#really there was so much wrong with this show

[captain-sirius-stark]

I want to see a fic where all of the Batkids end up in Gotham during the early Batman and Dick!Robin days and eventually end up in the cave with a much younger Batman and kid Dick. There is the disbelief and ensuing genetic test to confirm there really are two Dicks, but Bruce is still questioning who the others are.

One of the batkids says something like “We’re all your kids” and Dick replies “Well almost all of us”

Jason ribs at him “This before Bats actually adopted you? Still just a ward?”

Dick just stares at him confused “What?… You do know he never adopted me right??”

Jason glances over at Tim, not believing what was said, who looks up from his laptop and just slowly nods, intimately aware of the complexities of the early Batman and Robin situation.

And Jason gets Mad. Rips into Bruce for adopting the rest but never the first, for not hesitating with him but apparently never bothering with the one he’s called his brother all this time. He’s not even sure why he’s so angry about this but it rubs him really wrong. Dick is so confused by this sudden anger on his behalf, still having a rocky relationship with Jay on a good day. Though he would never show it, it gets to Bruce even though he’s still reeling from the idea that he will adopt these several children.

This could lead into a heartfelt conversation between Jason and Dick a la “How could you stand it when he adopted me?” “We talked about it a little when he first decided to do it. I asked him why he never adopted me. Sometimes his answer is enough for me; sometimes I want to punch him off a rooftop when I think about it… I hated it back then, the title ‘ward,’ that he accepted you like that after he threw me out, that he gave you my name, my suit… But I never hated you, not really.” Or to an introspective reevaluation of everything Jason ‘knows’ about Dick ‘Golden Boy’ Grayson-Wayne, the favorite son who was never even a son. There could also be some angsty interaction between big Dick and little Dick (I had to), trying not to reveal too much but also trying to prepare his younger self a little for the upheaval his life will go through when Bruce decides to take in another kid (and then another and another).

(Bonus points if somehow they get Damian in the original Robin suit and then never let him live it down. Maybe even the extra angst of Dick putting on the batsuit to fight a modern rogue in the past without debuting Nightwing early, taking Dami with him. Tim gets plenty of stalker like photos for blackmail purposes)

[luveline]

Oooooo carmy request: him being jealous of readers friendship w richie cos they re like buddys and he thinks she doesn't like him cos shes not like that w him

—you realise what Carmy wants from you. fem, 1.4k

Richie isn’t technically an upstanding citizen, but he’s a good guy. 

“I’m telling you, sweetheart, you just need to be more aggressive.” 

You’re sitting on a stool behind the counter filling the ketchup and mayonnaise bottles with the huge ones from the walk-in. Richie isn’t doing much of anything, which is fine by you; he’s good entertainment for a shitty job. 

“I don’t want to be more aggressive, I want people to be nicer.” 

“We don’t get what we want,” he mutters. 

You frown expressively. “Aw, baby, we don’t get what we want. You don’t get what you want, huh?” 

“What’s your problem?” he asks, though he laughs brightly. “You’re the fucking baby. You’re not doing that right.” 

You point at your extremely slow drip of ketchup. “No, you think? I know I’m doing it wrong, Richie. Doing it right is a lot of arm effort. Have you seen my arms?” 

“You’ve got muscle.” Richie lifts your arm up by the wrist. “Flex. Flex your arm.” 

“I’m flexing. You can’t see that?” 

“What are you guys doing?” Carmy asks. 

He comes up behind Richie and they’re almost twins. Not in appearance —Carmy’s lighter facially and broader physically— but in stance, their mussed up aprons and the rags on their shoulders a uniform. 

You flex. “Weight training.” 

Richie drops your arm. “I’m showing her how to fill the sauce bottles.” 

“And you didn’t know how to do that?” Carmy asks you. 

“I’m the one that taught Richie.” You absolutely didn’t teach Richie how to do it, that much is obvious. Richie laughs heartily, and Carmy frowns, and you realise that Richie thinks you’re both laughing at Carmy, which isn’t what was happening. Not totally. 

It’s hard to navigate The Beef without Mikey; Carmy is nothing like his brother, and Richie’s an asshole. 

Carmy nods at you. You’re worried his lip is gonna curl like it does when he’s mad and you’re gonna get told to do something you’re uninterested in, but it’s Richie who gets punished. “Can you finish Sydney’s prep?” 

“Why can’t she do it?” 

“Her stomach thing. It’s just onions.” 

Richie wants to argue, but can’t. He’s paid a wage to work. “Fine. But tell Syd I’m not her gopher.” 

Richie saunters away. 

“He’s not her gopher,” you tease when he’s out of earshot, to Carmy’s surprised delight. “God, Carm, don’t you know anything?” 

Your Richie impression isn’t your best. Carmy must enjoy it, still smiling to himself as his attention is turned to the register, where he begins wiping down the keys. 

“Is that really the way to do that?” he asks, gesturing to your sauce bottles. 

You’ve turned the cap upside down, feeding sauce into the bottle one drip at a time. It would be quicker to remove the cap entirely and pour straight from the big bottle, but that sometimes requires three hands, the big jugs are that heavy. 

“Despite what you might think, Carm, I’ve thought it through.” 

“You sure?” 

You could get defensive. When Carmy first took over the restaurant, you thought, What the fuck, Mikey. Leave your shithole restaurant to your world class brother and get your entire roster of staff fired in one fell swoop. But Carmy never fired you, hasn’t cut your hours, doesn’t treat you like an asshole. He is a jerk, that much is certain during busy dinner service, but he has yet to take it too far. (Ish.)

So you won’t defend your laziness, or expect him to like it. You get up from your stool and turn the cap right side up, tapping what’s yet to drip through the spout into the bottle. You set the cap aside, and you uncap the big ketchup to decant sauce until the bottle is full. 

Carmy glances at you from the corner of your eye. He looks at you, looks away again. 

You think he might like you. In the don’t have a choice, grown on him like moss way. He gets cagey when you and Richie are having fun, and he stares altogether too much, but he can be pretty when he’s smiling (or really yelling) and he has nice hands, and nice arms. He has a nice way of saying things. You don’t mind his attention.

There have been worse bosses to want to push you up against a wall. 

Not that you think Carmy could. He whines like a bitch at you for stupid shit, but Carmen Berzatto shoving you into a wall for a rough kiss? That’s never gonna happen. 

And yet… his frown tells a different story. 

“Why do you get so weird about me and Richie?” you ask. 

“I don’t get weird about you and Richie.” 

You open the mayonnaise bottle and set the cap aside. “He’s nicer than you think.” 

“Yeah?” He sounds vaguely depressed, which isn’t uncharacteristic. Seriousness colours his voice with a strange charm. “I’ll take your word for it.” 

“He is, he makes me laugh. He makes sure I eat, he shouts at guys when they’re mean to me.” 

“Who’s mean to you?” 

“Carmy.” You give up on the mayonnaise and wipe your hands down your apron, to his ire. You’d prefer not to smell like egg and oil during this conversation, but it’s better than smelling like burnt chicken, sort of. “Richie’s a nice guy, whether you agree or not.” 

“That’s great, I’m glad he’s so nice to you.” He sounds angry now, but he’s stuck as you are —walking away is losing. 

You really don’t get it. “Is he not supposed to be nice to me?” you ask. 

“He can do what he wants. You can do what you want.”

You laugh, and hope to diffuse the situation with a joke, “Okay, thanks for your permission, Chef.” 

“Fuck off.” 

He sounds less tense, but not fixed. And you might find it harder to keep up with him, constantly wanting to impress him, knowing you can’t, but you’re not out of touch. You aren’t a huge dick. 

Carmy beats you to it. “I was kidding, about the bottles. You can do it how you want.” 

“I wasn’t offended.” 

“But you don’t– with Richie, you– I don’t know what I’m doing wrong with you.” 

You look him up and down, lengths of his arms, tattoos and the cut over his elbow. His clean t-shirt, his neck, the strong line of his nose and his bright eyes. 

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” you say, smiling at him, knowing your expression says lots of weird stuff. 

Working here in the kitchen makes a busy atmosphere normal. Richie’s telling a story at the top of his lungs, Angel’s swearing about a dropped plate, knives scratch on boards and ovens hum. Being overwhelmed is something you’re good at, and big feelings don’t scare you. 

“You’re jealous of Richie?” you ask, playfully pitying. “Get it together.” 

“Fuck off,” he says again. 

“Seriously? Richie Jerimovich. He’s telling Tina a story right now about how the last date he went on ended with her asking if he’d ever been abducted by aliens.” 

“I’m not jealous of Richie.” 

“No, I don’t think you are,” you say, taking a step too close, and refusing to take the step back. 

Carmy doesn’t look mad anymore. 

You wonder if anybody’s ever held his hand. You used to think he must’ve had a ton of girlfriends, he got so famous everywhere he went, but… He looks like he’s never been this close to someone before. Like you’re making him nervous. 

“Me and Richie are friends,” you say quietly. “Is that what you want us to be?” 

His hand twitches at his side. 

“There, cousin, I cut the fucking onions. You happy?” Richie asks, and laughs as he steps back out to the front of house, unaware of the tension. “That’d be the day, right?” 

“Yes, Richie, I’m happy you did your job. Thank you.” 

“Was that hard for you, baby?” you ask Richie with a pout. “Here, let me kiss your poor hands.” 

Richie gives you the bird with both of them. 

You look to Carmy. Making fun of Richie together isn’t quite as good as holding hands, but you hope it’s a start. 

Carmy catches on, can’t hide his grin, “There’s tylenol in the office if you need it, cousin.”  

“Are your wrists feeling tender?” you prompt. “Or is that motion one you’re used to?” 

Carmy laughs and the sound takes on the shape of his smile, nearly giddy. 

“Fuck both of you.” 

[inevitablypazzi]

things i absolutely adore from this video:

- let's talk about how azzi's family allows their to roam freely without them with paige (that speaks volumes of their trust on her)

- paige carrying the big bags of the things she bought while azzi brings the smaller paper bag makes them look so domestic and screams let me carry your stuff for you (i am aware that of course paige carried those big bags because she's the one who bought them not azzi)

- paige calling azzi's grandfather 'papa' (hello????? their bond with each other's family never fails to make me feel something)

- azzi's grandpa (i think i'm not sure please do correct me if i'm wrong) greeting paige with such an excited and energetic 'hi' and then posing with her for a selfie IS EVERYTHING TO ME they really adore her and i can't get enough of it

- them asking paige about the stuff she bought and then scolding her about it (especially azzi's dad) is so adorable because it goes to show their comfort with each other 😭

the entire vibes of this video is just so precious i can't even put it into words how much i treasure the fact that these girls have developed such a beautiful connection with each other that it extends to their family too. i love them sm you guys have no clue. 😔

[algae-tm]

AGORA HILLS

Daniel Ricciardo x rapper!Reader SMAU

Warnings : SUGGESTIVE content!! Reader and Daniel being horny for eachother on main

face claim : megan thee stallion

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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danielricciardo : Locked in. It’s race week

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user7 : praying for a dr3 podium

— user5 : lmao you’ll need something stronger than prayer

user6 : can’t believe mother is dating this loser

youruser : whore

— user9 : 😅😨

youruser : I’m sorry I wasn’t aware I was running a brothel

youruser : who let you out of your cage long enough for you to post this

— user7 : girl pls ✋🏿 😭

youruser : who you trying to impress???? 😨😅

— danielricciardo : I’m sorry bookie, what can I do to make it up to you?

— youruser : you know what 😼🤭

— danielricciardo : on my way!

— landonorris : there are children on here!!!

— youruser : log off then norizz

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youruser : THANK UUU SO MUCH LONDON! Always a pleasure performing for you, truly one of the best crowds! Now if you’ll excuse me my man is waiting for me in our hotel room with nothing but edible underwear on 🤤

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lewishamilton : an amazing show as always y/n! But was that last part really necessary?

— youruser : yes

user7 : your free speech… hand it over!!!

user21 : how she’s so down bad over a man well past his prime i can’t understand 🤷🏼‍♀️

— youruser : PAST HIS PRIME!???log off NEOWWW

— user32 : I fear she’s dickmatised 😔

user45 : love that they’re still in the honeymoon phase

— user47 : FR!! I need all their secrets! after almost 3 years and they’re still so in love with each other

danielricciardo : AWOOGA

danielricciardo : woof woof bark bark

— oscarpiastri : 😨😨

danielricciardo : I ate the underwear 3 songs ago

— youruser : we can’t drive any faster 😭

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youruser : I see your “Danny Ric is a loser who doesn’t deserve y/n” and raise you “LOOK AT HIM, LOOK AT MY MAN, LOOK AT HIS BIG GORGEOUS, RIDEABLE NOSE, AND HIS TATTED THIGHS AND HIM IN A SUIT!!! RATTLING ON THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!! I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM, GOD FORGIVE ME FOR EVERYTHING IM GOING TO DO TO THIS MAN WHEN I GET HOME FROM THIS DINNER, THE SLOPPIEST TOP THATS EVER GUNNA SLOP IS COMING HIS WAY!” oh btw Agora Hills out like rn! view all comments

maxverstappen1 : oh… uhm okay. NURSE SHES OUT AGAIN

— youruser : don’t be jealous cause I’m doing your man on the daily

— maxverstappen1 : 😨

— user65 : lmao y/n stays traumatising these drivers

landonorris : listened to the song! Great! Cool! Cool cool cool. Didn’t need to know all that but really good I guess

user70 : you know I’m starting to see the vision

lewishamilton : y/n… is this why youre on the phone rn?

— youruser : sorry wrong number

— lewishamilton : this is social media

— youruser : no habla ingles!!

user1 : not the random picture of you on the second slide

— user3 : that’s what I’m saying 😭 like is this not an appreciation post for your man?

— youruser : god forbid a woman look hot and post it! need to show you guys he’s taken by a bad bitch!

danielricciardo : forever grateful you chose me to spend life with 💞

— youruser : oh… we not being horny rn?

— danielricciardo : my draws are off rn

— lewishamilton : OH this is why y/n just sprinted out of the room

— youruser : forever grateful you chose to spend life with me too 💙💙

— user47 : she sends him blue hearts??!????? Is it for visa cashapp paypal venmo el matador racing bulls

— user76 : girl 😭 you good???!

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danielricciardo : I wanna tie the knot. I wanna show you off

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youruser : DANIEL RICCIARDO, propose to me for real goddamit!! You coward

— danielricciardo : working on it baby

— youruser : ooooo I need you so bad rn

user56 : sooo only fans when

— danielricciardo : my eyes only sorry

user78 : y’all are nasty

— user67 : in the best way!

user81 : sending you lot my therapy bill

lewishamilton : I love y’all but don’t you ever get tired

— danielricciardo : yeah she tires me out all the time

— youruser : yeah I do baby!!

youruser : my man

— danielricciardo : my woman

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[signanothername]

Why do you like Killer?

*Cracks knuckles* get ready

I don’t like Killer, I fucking LOVE HIM

He’s my number 1 fave au sans and has been for a very long time

Now to be clear, I’m talking about canon Killer here, i have mixed feelings about some fanon interpretations, some are good and i genuinely love them, others not so much

That being said, let’s actually talk about why i love my beautiful amazing wonderful son <3333

(All art used in this post is by Killer’s creator: Rahafwabas)

The very first hook for me is his very concept, the mere idea of a sans basically agreeing to go on a killing spree after so many genocide runs is just *chef’s kiss*

Killer knew it was wrong, he knew he shouldn’t, yet he did

Killer doomed himself by his choice, he could’ve stayed as “sans” but he chose to accept Chara’s offer, yet his choice came to be after he saw no point in refusing anymore (important addition and a correction here)

The canon comics had Killer saying that he’s the way he is cause he gave up, he said “you won, you’re the reason I’m like this”, he’s been on so many genocide runs that he felt a little part of him die each run, only to give up and go on said killing spree

It’s interesting how the player is a big part of Killer’s story, cause whether Chara was involved or not, the player is the root cause of his suffering

But what i love the most is that regardless of his backstory or reasons, Killer’s actions led to their inevitable consequences, and it forever changed him

The biggest change? His very soul, it went from a normal monster soul to his signature target soul, infused with Determination, something that supposedly hurts monsters, it’s almost like his soul was infected with it, and you can see how it physically affects him with the black liquid that constantly comes out his eyes, nose and mouth, and even at times, that sludge is too much that he chokes on it

And the amusing yet tragic parallel? Killer aimed to “feel something new” by his genocide runs, only to end up not feeling anything at all, at least at his default stage 2

Which brings me to the concept of his soul’s stages

I love Killer’s stages so so much, it’s such a beautiful unique and wonderful concept

Killer’s individual stages are sooooo intriguing to me, it shows Killer in a different light each time depending on which stage he’s in, stage 1 is the closest he is to being “sans”, the closest to he used to be, he can feel emotions and is generally back to his more lazy bones attitude, as well as his ability to actually show sympathy, and feel the pain he’s always in, but what’s interesting is that regardless of the fact he’s the closest to his old self in this stage, it’s still so clear that Killer isn’t really “sans” anymore, that no matter what, he truly had changed in a way that can never be reversed, a point of no return, even when Color saves him, cause his new habits? His fears? His pain? His trauma? They can never be taken away, Killer has to live with the scars of what he experienced

Stage 2 is who he’d become, he can’t feel anything at this stage, emotions nonexistent, and his nonchalant behavior towards himself and others is most apparent here, a parallel I like to think of is that Killer’s inability to feel anything at all is almost like prolonged sensory deprivation, when you’re deprived of sensory input/ simulation for long periods, your brain needs compensate, and so it does its job, Killer’s soul prevents him from feeling so he resorts to other methods (usually very self destructive) to compensate for his lack of emotional capacity

I also really really love how that especially during stage 2, Killer isn’t trustworthy, cause in stage 1 you can actually trust him to an extent, in stage 2 Killer’s actions, behaviors and mindset are completely unpredictable, but not because he’s random, cause he’s actually extremely calculated, yet regardless, his carelessness when it comes to his own life and other people’s lives is dialed to an 11 here, so he could either choose to kill/attack or simply stay and listen

we even get an actual in depth look at how Killer’s mind works in one of the canon comics, in which Killer contemplates whether to attack Dream or not as he listens to his own stages in his head, one of which tells him to Kill Dream, while the other tells Killer to talk to Dream first

How Killer comes to a final decision on whether he attacks or not is something I believe his calculated mind makes depending on the situation and the pros/cons of what act he chooses, Killer is pretty smart, he knows when to let his trigger happy self out and when to settle down

Stage 3 or the “crazy stage” is the stage in which he’d attack anyone in his way whether friend or foe, we unfortunately don’t have much canon info regarding this stage, but that ain’t gonna stop me from analyzing the shit outta it (and talk about how i perceive it)

I like to think of this stage as the combination between stage 1 and 2, yet it’s almost like his soul can’t truly decide on which stage to settle on and by extension founding stage 3 as a separate stage by itself, Killer becomes extremely unstable at this stage, his soul moves rapidly and it’s obvious he’s in pain cause of it, whether that pain is just emotional or both physical and emotional isn’t really clear, yet i’d like to believe it’s both, and i feel like Killer’s capacity to attack anyone at this stage is related to that pain, and something I really love to believe is that Killer can’t calm down enough to settle back to stage 1 or 2 unless he either wears himself out by fighting someone, or he’s left alone to his own demons long enough to pull himself together, if he were to be forcefully restrained during this stage, it would only serve to make it worse and prolong the time he stays that way (cough something i may or may not have made a quick comic about but never shared as always vjvjvjj)

Not to mention, one of the canonical responses Killer gives when asked if he’s ok at stage 3 seems to make Killer alternate between answers he wants to give between saying he’s “fine” and “i don’t know” which makes sense, Killer isn’t stable at all, it’s almost like his stage 1 self and stage 2 self are fighting over who gets to talk (stage 2 seems more dominant)

Yet the fact Killer is able to answer and comprehend his surroundings enough at this stage is very intriguing to me, cause it shows how much Killer is able to handle/endure (which is A LOT cause damn) and not only that, but it also gives us a very clear difference between this stage and stage 4

As for stage 4?? Woooh boi, it’s the stage I like to call “plunging into darkness”

We also don’t have much canon info about this stage, but one of the things i find interesting is the fact Killer deliberately keeps it a secret from everyone, when he tells Color about his stages, he only tells him up to stage 3, never bringing up stage 4, only for Chara to sneer at Killer that he shouldn’t keep it from his new BFF

It’s obvious Killer himself is very uncomfortable with the subject of stage 4, it’s apparent that it’s a stage that he rarely gets to, but it still bothers him enough to not want to even mention it, which makes sense, cause the comic we had of stage 4 shows that Killer gets to that stage when he’s reminded of all the murders he committed, and unsurprisingly, when he’s reminded of his brother, as what triggered this stage is actually a memory of Papyrus telling Sans to “see a puzzle”, only to be followed by memories of screams of anger, fear, and hatred of those he killed immediately afterwards, stage 4 is heavily related to his trauma

Not to mention it’s clear that when Killer gets to stage 4 he blacks out, he’s completely unaware of anything he does during this stage, and is only left to deal with the aftermath when he gets back to his senses, the fact it’s also a stage that seems to be “getting worse” is something that Killer definitely seems to hate

It sometimes makes me think whether Killer had gotten into trouble cause he killed someone Nightmare wanted alive while at this stage, cause with how he keeps it a secret, I’d assume Nightmare would be unaware of it for a while (comic idea perhaps >:) )

But y’know what’s better than talking about the stages?? Talking about Killer’s personality, behaviors and trauma

Killer can’t distinguish between what’s real or not, and it’s obvious he sometimes sees the world in the third person, as in he’s not completely there at times, not to mention the amount of voices he hears in his head, from his stages talking to him to hallucinations of Chara, Frisk and Papyrus, and oooh boi does he hate these hallucinations, the past obviously haunts Killer and it’s something he tries running away from constantly, yet he can never truly run from it when it follows him everywhere

Killer has a smile on his face most the time, but his attitude changes especially when Chara is mentioned, or when he’s reminded of his past in any way, he literally avoids food that reminds of his past life as “sans”, he freezes up at certain phrases such as “best friend” (something i also made a comic about that i never shared chchhchc)

He just absolutely hates to be reminded of the person he used to be, of all the things he used to have, cause in truth? They were all taken away from him by his own hands, only to be then forced to work under Nightmare, who only ensures that he never finds peace of mind

And the sad part? Killer let’s all those things hurt him, he lets Nightmare have his way with him, he lets Chara torment him, cause he thinks he deserves it, and most importantly, he deluded himself into believing that this is what he wants because it’s what everyone else wants, because it’s what the player wants

Killer even sometimes tries to force himself not to feel anything, cause come on, since when does he feel anything at all?

Killer, to put it bluntly, hates himself, and he thinks that his suffering is the Karma of what he’s done, and even at one point, he was going to erase himself out of existence cause he believed that’s what he deserved, as in Killer thought of himself as unworthy when it comes to Papyrus, that his brother doesn’t need him, that his brother is better off without him, hell he even tells Color that he needs to kill him if he ever reaches stage 3, it’s an obvious “ i want someone to put me outta my misery” attitude

Killer feels hopeless, and so he lets himself suffer thinking he can’t ever find peace or hope again

Yet the interesting part? You’d never know that Killer hates himself unless you’re a being of emotions (Nightmare and Dream) or someone who’s perceptive enough to notice Killer’s self-loathing like Color, that’s how good of an actor Killer can be, you’d think he’s a cold emotionaless killer but the truth only shines to those who actually can see through his act

Killer just has that amazing character depth and his story is genuinely so unique and beautiful, cause you in his story you can find details of other details within the details vhvhvjvj

All that? Mixed with really adorable little things like his love for cats, his silly attitude, his nonchalance with Nightmare, his capacity to be social with whoever, and his friendship with color? That is why I love Killer Anon <33333

[mssainz]

INTRUDER | PART 3

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: Lewis invited his ex to your wedding.

You were given plenty of plates to taste. Lewis notices your apathy towards the cake tasting. “Did you not like it?” Lewis whispered into your ears, snapping your bubble. “No, I like them. I was just contemplating what to choose. Which one stood out for you?” Y/N replied.

“Anything is good for me. So you can choose what you want. I'll be okay with it,” Lewis replied.

Are you even interested in choosing one or are you just forced to join me here?

“Alright, strawberry cake for me,” You immediately replied. You lost your interest in even taking your time choosing what you really want. You felt like your husband-to-be doesn't even want to be involved with anything and just goes with the flow. He just agreed with everything you want and just let you choose not showing any interest in any details of your wedding. Knowing that he opt to invite his ex to your wedding makes you ruminate more if he just want to allow you to have your dream wedding or if he just want to get everything done just like that.

“Is there something wrong, love?” Lewis broke the silence while driving. “Nothing, why?” You responded.

“Nothing, it's just your quieter than usual. You usually talk non-stop about your day, even oversharing some stuff that I don't even need or want to kno..”

“I'm just tired,” You said, cutting Lewis off.

Oversharing stuff that you don't even need or want to know? Well, I'm sorry if I talk to much and I'm sorry that I choose to spend my remaining energy communicating with my fiancé how my day went.

YN is fuming mad in her mind but chooses not to say a word. She just doesn't want to start an argument when he just apologized.

He meant it when he said that he'll make it up to you. He brought you to your favorite restaurant, a place you cannot resist. You are enjoying your food and when his phone rang.

“I'm sorry, love. I think I need to go. I need to go to the headquarters right now. If you want, I can drive you home first before I go to the hq or...”

“No, it's okay. You can go. I'll finish my food,” You replied, not daring to look into his eyes.

“I'm sorry, love. Text or call me when you get home, okay?” Lewis said, before planting a kiss on your temple and leaving you behind.

“One bottle of red wine, please.” You finish every drop of the bottle before commuting home.

“I'll make it up to you, my ass,” You said as your removed your heels while entering your office. There you saw the newly printed out guest list without the name of his ex-girlfriend slash first love on it.

“What do I even have against her? She was your first love, a beautiful and mature woman, and you still can't forget her. And I'm just your fiancé, whom you apparently met when you broke up with her, whom apparently overshare even though you don't want to know about it” You said, tipsy walking towards your bed.

You lay down on your bed and stared at the ceiling for as long as your consciousness can hold.

Am I even doing the right thing? Is it still right to marry you? Won't I regret marrying you?

“Well, divorce is a thing,” You said before finally closing your eyes and slumbering.

The day came. You're in your white wedding gown, full glammed. You are fidgeting with your engagement ring.

You were asked to have your own personal vows prior to your wedding day. But until the very moment, you haven't written a single thing on the paper given to you.

You took a deep breath and wrote everything you wanted to say to Lewis before the ceremony started.

“Y/N, let's go no.. YN?” Your bridesmaid entered the room and found no bride in white dress.

The door of the venue opened, but it was not the bride who walked in the aisle. It was her bridesmaid rapidly walking towards Lewis with a note in her hand. It was not a vow but a farewell letter to him.

“I'm sorry, Lewis. You are free now. I'm letting you go, my love. Thank you for everything, for the wonderful years we have spent together. Thank you for the love that you made me feel. I love you Lewis. I'm sorry.”

“No, this can't be happening.” Lewis ran towards your room. He look at every place where he thought he can find you.

[starry-bi-sky]

"Stillborn? No, no, still born." -- DPXDC AU

Based off a comment I saw where Bruce knew about Talia's pregnancy in the earlier comivs, and was ecstatic to be a father. So much so that Talia feared he'd give up being Batman for it, so when she gave birth she put the baby (Damian) on a doorstep and (seemingly) told Bruce that the baby was stillborn.

Instead of Damian, that baby was Danny! Meet Daniel Brown, the 14 year old foster kid whose been living with the Fenton family for the last two years. He's about two years older than Damian.

His last name, "Brown", was a generic surname given to him because the note he came with didn't have one on it. It just had the name "Danyal" on it, but albeit 'Daniel' was the one that had been put into the system for, I'll be totally frank here, racism reasons.

(I looked it up to make sure, and it's generally not permissible for foster parents to change the names of their foster kids even if it's a permanent residency, and for that reason Danny doesn't have the last name "Fenton".)

Danny's got ✨~issues!~✨ He's been through a handful of homes growing up, most of them terrible for a variety of reasons. Which has, as a result, left lasting scars. He's generally a very sweet kid, just very distrustful and jumpy. He's got the signs of a kid suffering from PTSD, and a handful of other issues including attachment and insomnia. His inferiority complex could rival Damian's, and that's going to make for an interesting mutual hatred for when they finally meet.

(something I'll get into later)

He still has the blanket he was found in. It's made of a very high quality material and is a beautiful emerald green with little golden thread accents, it's high quality as a result has Danny clinging onto a desperate hope that his bio family might be out there, and the only reason they gave him up was because of some outside factor. It's been taken a few times in old foster homes, and he's flipped out each time.

While he still calls Jack and Maddie by their names, he likes them well enough. The bar isn't that high though, and while they're some of the better foster parents he's had, "better" doesn't equal "safest". Their laboratory malpractice. Basically, C- Fenton Parents. They're negligent by virtue of being engrossed in their work, but they do care equally about Jazz and Danny. So he doesn't hold it against them that much.

He kinda prefers it that way, their loud affection is overwhelming and Danny doesn't know what to do with their attention, even if he craves it. It's a bit of a complicated situation.

They took in Danny because they genuinely wanted another child, but didn't want a big age gap between them and Jazz. It was actually Jack's idea to foster, and they discussed it with Jazz beforehand. She was all for the idea. Thus, a handful of weeks later, a ton of paperwork, and inspection later, and Daniel Brown entered their household with a trash bag in one hand and eyes like shards of stained glass.

His relationship with Jazz is kinda strained, but that's by virtue of her constant psychoanalyzing and helicoptering. Like with the parents, Danny's overwhelmed by the attention and also just, straight up doesn't like the fact that she's telling him that there's something wrong with him. He knows that, thank you. He pushes her away when she does this.

Other than that though? When Jazz isn't smothering him and is acting like an actual sibling and not a third parent, they're pretty close, and Danny really likes her. They've hung out a few times on their own volition, and Jazz showed him how to take better care of his long hair.

His school situation,, pretty similar to canon with the bullying, albeit with a few more instances of him blowing a fuse and lashing out against his attackers. He's a rather angry kid, but it's quiet. It builds up, piles on top of itself, until eventually, like a volcano, it erupts and burns everyone within radius.

Danny's got a fire core, not an ice core. Phantom's hair is made of white magma; thick and heavy, setting itself on fire when his anger runs hot. When he gets angry, his skin begins to char and split open to reveal pulsating lava underneath, and he crackles and pops like a raging forest fire.

I haven't decided yet on how he meets the batfam -- i've got two ideas but they're both in opposition to each other, and drastically alter how the rest of the plot goes. But I do know that him and Damian hate each other in the beginning. And it has nothing to do with inheritance or "being the blood son" -- although their blood relation absolutely plays the major role in their disdain for each other.

Simply put, they're jealous of each other for the same thing: thinking that the other was wanted.

Damian hates Danny because, unlike Damian, Bruce knew about Danny since conception and wanted him from the moment he heard about him. He had a whole nursery set up, and still does. He never took it down -- just locked the door. Damian was thrust upon Bruce without warning, and he feels like he forced himself into the family. And while on some level Damian knows and understands that Bruce wants him and loves him as much as his other children, that doubt and feeling of inferiority still remains. He looks at Danny and sees him with what Damian always feels he needs reaffirmed.

Meanwhile, Danny hates Damian because he looks at him and sees him with everything Danny's ever wanted. He hates him because Damian grew up knowing both of their parents, with one of them for most of his life, and then moved over to the other. There was never a moment where Damian was (seemingly) left to doubt his place within the family. Damian was raised with the very same woman who left Danny on a doorstep, with no clue to his identity beyond a little green blanket and a note with only a first name. Damian was wanted everywhere, and Danny was wanted nowhere. Damian is Danny's replacement in his eyes.

(It's the little revelation that Damian grew up with their mother that elevates Danny from being quietly envious of Damian to downright despising him. What did Damian do, that Danny didn't? He could live with Damian living with Bruce -- Bruce didn't know Danny was even alive. But him living with their mom? Are you fucking kidding him?)

Damian never outright attacks Danny physically, but it's not like he hides that he didn't like Danny. Meanwhile, Danny, in all his repressive anger, quietly despised him from a distance until finally one wrong snide side-comment has him blowing up and it becomes a screaming match. They're both just enough similar to each other that when they look at each other they really just see a mirror.

They'll work it out together, eventually. But it'll be ugly and cruel and explosive, and they'll start mending the bridge to become brothers in more than just blood relation in the end.

But yeah, stillborn Danny has... a lot going for him.

[benevolentbones]

newcomer | spencer reid x fem!reader part 2

part 1

warnings: swearing, v mild dirty thoughts

word count: 1.3k

summary: your dad calls you on your day off

a/n: thank you so so much for all the support on my last few works, it means the world!! i love reading through all the comments! please if you have a fic request please let me know!!

it had been a few days since you dropped in to visit your dad at the bau, but your mind kept wandering back to the hazel eyed man you met.

you found his awkwardness quite adorable, and the way his face flushed when you spoke to him, made you smile.

you had heard a lot about the team over the years, so it was nice to put faces to names after your father had returned home that evening.

today was your day off, and you didn’t really have many plans, maybe you’d go and grab a coffee or take a walk around the park, who knows.

you stretched back against the plush sofa in your living room, flicking through the channels on your tv.

your phone began to chime, blasting out your ringtone. you picked it up on third ring, bringing it to your ear.

“hello?”

“y/n, are you at home?” your father questioned.

“yeah dad- i’m just watching tv at the moment, what’s up?” you sat up, scooting to the edge of the couch.

“can you do me a huge favour?”

you hummed in response “what is it?”

“in my home office, i left the latest case files- would you come to the bureau and drop them off?”

you chewed your bottom lip. on one hand, you didn’t really want to drive thirty minutes to and from your dads work, just to be there for less than five minutes. on the other, those five minutes could be spent talking or spencer reid.

“i’ll be there soon, dad.” you replied, hanging up the phone.

~

you practically raced to the bureau, cutting the usual thirty plus minute drive down to twenty three. a new record.

you clutched the case files to your side, making your way inside the building and making a b line for the bullpen.

morgan, garcia and reid were all sat around spencer’s desk, the younger man rambling on about the book he had just finished reading, which was a recommendation from penelope.

“honestly the plot could have been better- and i didn’t really like the-“ spencer was interrupted with a dig from morgan, whos eyes were glued to the elevator doors of the bullpen.

“why’d you do that ow.” spencer complained, rubbing the aching spot on his forearm. he turned his gaze to where both morgan and garcia were looking.

and there you stood. you had just stepped out of the elevator, you weren’t in the same office attire you had adorned the last time you visited the bau.

you were wearing a tight pair of black jeans that flared slightly at the leg, with a striped button down fitted shirt which rode up slightly, showing off part of your midriff.

“damn little gideon is mad fine.” morgan mumbled earning a quizzical look from spencer.

“little gideon- ew is that what you’re calling her?” penelope’s face contorted into one of disgust.

“i mean, you aren’t wrong..” she added, the blonde woman was practically undressing you with her eyes.

“guys come on- that’s a bit much don’t you think?” spencer mumbled, though his eyes did not once leave your form as you walked across the room towards gideon’s office.

“you’re just saying that because you like her, ain’t that right lover boy?” morgan cracked a smile, smacking spencer on the shoulder.

“shut up man..”

“do you really think gideon would want you dating his daughter?” derek mused.

“i mean anything is better than you..” spencer mumbled jokingly.

you reached your fathers office, balancing the files in one arm while using the other to knock against the oakwood door.

“come in.”

you pushed the door open, to reveal gideon leaning back in his desk chair, case files spread across the table. he had a telephone pressed in between his ear and his shoulder.

“hey dad- i brought the files you needed.” you smiled, shuffling over to his desk and plopping the bundle of papers onto his cluttered work space.

“thanks hon, you want to wait outside? i’ll be done in a few minutes and we can grab a coffee?”

you nodded, allowing gideon to continue his phone call. you backed out of his office, walking down the steps into the main section of the bullpen.

you scanned the room, your eyes landing on the three agents huddled around spencer’s desk.

you plucked up the courage and began to saunter over to them.

“hey reid look.” penelope whispered just loud enough for spencer to hear, immediately his head shot up, his gaze softening when he realised you were making your way over to him.

“good luck tiger.” morgan grinned, both he and garcia leaving the premises upon your arrival, after giving you a small smile.

“hey dr. reid right?” you mumbled once you reached his desk.

his eyes met yours, through his wire-framed glasses, and he nodded.

“yeah- you can call me spencer though- you’re y/n? gideon’s daughter?” he stumbled upon his words, rushing the sentences together.

you hummed in response, perching yourself against the genius’ desk.

“he’s told me a lot about you.”

“all good things i hope-“ spencer began, a slight nervousness to his voice.

this made you chuckle, “yes, all good things, i promise.”

“i hope you don’t mind keeping me company, i’m just waiting for dad to get off of the phone.” you eyed spencer, watching as he frantically neatened his desk.

“no-no not at all, i’m enjoying your company.” he mumbled out.

from the corner of his eye he could see morgan and garcia watching their interaction from the kitchenette, morgan had a cocky grin plastered onto his face and garcia held her thumbs up supportively.

spencer let out a breathy sigh, slumping down into his desk chair. he pondered for a moment, considering being forward. he didn’t want to come across as too needy or awkward, but if he was being honest with himself that’s exactly what he was.

he watched as you sat on the edge of his desk, happily swinging you legs back and forth, glancing around the bullpen.

fuck it.

“y/n?” spencer began, not being able to stop the crimson staining his cheeks.

“spencer.” you giggled.

“would you, i don’t know maybe like to go for dinner sometime- with..me?” you could sense the anxiety in his voice, the brunette avoiding your gaze as he fumbled with a pen on his desk.

you felt your cheeks heat up, and you reached over to place a hand on spencer’s arm. his eyes flickered up to look at you when he felt your touch.

“i would love to, let me give you my number.” you smiled happily, jumping from the desk.

you took the pen from spencer’s grasp, your fingers brushing against his causing a spark from the contact.

you picked up a pad of sticky notes and began scribbling down your number.

as you were doing so, gideon had left his office and was making his way towards the two of you.

“here, i’m free friday if you are.” you mumbled, passing him the paper and pen back.

“o-okay i’ll call you.” spencer’s eyes were now on gideon who had come to an abrupt stop, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“lets get going, kid.”

you nodded, shooting spencer a smile. “i’ll see you soon, dr. reid.”

and with that you had walked on ahead, gideon bringing his arms into a folded position in front of his chest.

spencer swallowed hard, feeling beads of sweat build up on his forehead.

“you want to take my daughter out?”

“uh yes, yes sir-“

agent gideon pondered for a moment, eyeing the younger man. he had worked with him for a few years, he trusted him to be sensible with you, and out of everyone he was probably the best pick.

“better you than morgan.” gideon shrugged, and with that comment he followed you out the door.

[pixiiipie]

Hi there, me again. 😅 so I’ve recently become obsessed with Sampo from HSR and I don’t really see a whole lot of writings for him. So, I figured I’d request it. It can be subby or just platonic, I genuinely don’t mind.

to betray my customers, i charge extra~

includes || sub!sampo | dom!reader | gn!reader | reader described as having a cock but could be seen as a strap | reader is a little mean but the ending is sweet | sampo is called a slut and whore | reader is called master | sampo has a crush on reader (u probs do look at him <3) not proofread!!

hello you :) i’m so so glad you’ve finally discovered sampo he was one of my first characters when but i stopped playing after i got kafka. so, i’m hoping my quick refresh of content will help me write this. obviously, we gotta fuck this sweet boy <3

“if that is all you require of the esteemed sampo koski, then i shall be taking my leave.” sampo said in his usual manner and flair, even going so far as to kiss your knuckle with a wink. he’d just finished carrying out some jobs for you and was only sticking around to collect the remainder of his payment. half now and half when the job was finished of course.

“until next time, tah-rah~!” with a bow, sampo turned to leave before your voice cut through his theatrics.

“wait.” you called, plain and simple but halting him immediately. the relationship you and sampo had was… complicated to say the least. you were well acquainted to the point where he’d complete tasks you’d assign him to for a much cheaper price than he’d charge others and even not charge you at all for smaller, easier things (maybe he’d try his charm and ask for a kiss instead- which you’d always indulge him in). truthfully, he was absolutely infatuated with you. sampo would do anything for you even if you refused payment.

“my dear sampo,” you began. your voice, although seemingly sweet, was laced with poison. sampo couldn’t help but take an unnatural deep breath trying not to show he was nervous and remain cocky. “i heard a little something from someone that piqued my interest. word travels fast as you must know.” you closed the gap between the two of you where you could just about feel his breath on you.

“ah that’s probably just some gossip to pass the time. you know how bored and lifeless people get. even i’ve spread a few rumours to liven things up and i’m preeetty sure they’re still going strong. meaningless chatter my darling y/n, meaningless chatter.” sampo mused trying to avoid whatever you’ve said coming into light and potentially screwing him over.

“a little birdie told me, that you encourage betrayal of your customers as long as they pay extra.” you say mindlessly playing with a longer strand of his hair.

“well- now now i wouldn’t say i encourage it per say and that doesn’t go for everyone i do business with. for instance! sampo koski would never do anything that goes against you that’s just plain wrong and against my moral code.” sampo explains although it comes out a little faster than he’d liked. you wondered just how many close calls he’s had if he’s this bad at excuses.

“you’re a bad liar sampo.” you whisper in his ear taking note on how his breath hitches and he presses his lips together. “and, so is your body. what’s this?” you adjust your knee so it’s pressed lightly over his growing bulge which, in turn, made sampo gasp sharply and immediately cover his mouth. “just.. just very happy to see my favourite customer.” sampo tries to play it off with a wink but to no avail. his voice was failing him pitifully.

“hmm how about an exchange for this new information? you keep me protected in exchange for me helping you out.” it was almost as if you had swapped roles. with one hand, you held his face and kept him looking at you while the other snuck through a gap in his clothes to hold his waist. sampo was desperately trying to hold onto his snark but it was hard when he wanted needed this moment that he’d been so patiently waiting for. “exchange gladly accepted.” he said with a smile taking your waist and pressing you against him more.

———

“oh sampo i can tell why everyone keeps coming back to you.” you say adjusting his legs so you can reach even deeper into him. sampo was seeing stars, blown away by the fact his fantasies were finally coming true. he’ll easily keep coming back to you for more than jobs now he’s had a taste of your cock. a taste wasn’t enough to describe this it was more a five course meal he’d never become full from.

“mgghh-! f-fuck mmMhmhmhm! no one can qui-quite get enoughhh offf- aH-! sah-sampo mmM-!” sampo moaned trying to fulfil your request and put on a show for you. he was stripped of all his clothes apart from his top, which lay undone but still over his arms underneath him, and lay on his back taking your cock like such a good boy. as instructed by you, his was to keep his hands pressed under his back.

“i wonder… do you do this with many people mr cold feet?” you ask slowing your movements to allow him to think. sampo only nodded with an attempt at a smirk between whimpers. this was only half true. sure, he’d fucked around a little for information but it was never like this. a quick handjob under a table, head in an ally but he was never on the receiving end.

“i thought as much. you’re never fully satisfied are you, whore?” your last word stung but sampo was quickly learning that he had a thing for pain. “you do remember why i’m doing this don’t you sampo?”the switch to his name caught him off guard and he’s not sure if he was turned on or disappointed by this. again, he nodded. “use your words.” you swore he whimpered at your change of tone and it was difficult for him not to cum from this. “s-so i’ll hnnngg-! i’ll protect y-ya!” sampo squirmed as your hands carelessly roamed his body and grazed over his nipples.

“mm almost,” you began as you leaned towards him, talking into his ear. “it’s easy for you to say you’ll protect me but how can i know you definitely will? if i have this dirt on you, it’ll make it that bit harder for you to betray me.” you punctuate your words with harsh thrusts that probably made it harder for him to understand and take in what you were saying. “nn-no ne-aH-! never hnnggh betray y-you! neva-ah! m-masterrrr” sampo almost cries, wishing he never made that stupid slogan for some extra cash.

“but look at how well you take me. makes me think that even if i did expose you, you’d like it. everyone would know what a slut mr cold feet is and they’d all want a turn with you and fuck you like the whore you’re clearly proving to be.” to compliment your words, you lazily dragged your hand up and down his aching cock causing him to buck into your hand and almost curl in on himself.

sampo doesn’t want you to tell everyone but only because he only wants you to fuck him like this! he wants to prove that he can be a good boy and allow the chance that maybe you’ll do this to him again. you’re the only master he wants and he would never betray his master. it was all too much. sampo was almost at his limit.

“plu-pluheeseee g’nnah c-cumm hnnggg!” desperate to reach his high, sampo began subconsciously grinding onto you and trying to match your thrusts to force you deeper inside. watching him, you grab his hips and help him working faster and deeper inside. “such a polite boy. everyone likes a good boy don’t they?” you ask wondering how foggy his head has gotten.

“mmgnmmm! g-good boy ‘mma g’boyyy.” he almost shouts as if he was trying to prove your previous points wrong. “you’ve satisfied your customer greatly sampo. you can cum.” you say pressing a kiss to his cheek where a tear was running down.

“thhh-thaahnk you!” he slurred over and over as he came over his stomach with a high pitched whine. you gently helped him ride out his orgasm and watched how his hands dug into the blankets underneath him. he really was good. they never moved from where you instructed him to keep them. before you pulled out though, you had to do one more thing. you took your phone and held it above him, making sure to capture the full image of sampo lay blissed out, covered in his own cum and with a cock buried deep in his ass.

“smileee.” you say almost mimicking his usual sing song voice. to your surprise, he followed your instructions and even stuck out his tongue to sell the image more. leaning down to kiss his chewed up lips, you tell him that you were only kidding as you slowly and carefully pull out. it was only to make him believe that you really had dirt on him and it wasn’t another rumour. it would make him think twice before doing anything knowing that you had a picture of him in this state (and probably download so he could never truly delete every trace of it).

“you’d let me?” you ask moving some stray strands of hair out of his eyes and letting your hand rest on his cheek. sampo only nodded and kissed your palm. “i want you to trust that i would never betray you.” his voice (although a little hoarse) was serious and a stark contrast to his usual tone. “if havin’ that will give you peace of mind, that’s okay.” he smiles up at you with genuine earnest. “you’ll never have the chance to use it anywhos.”

“you’re m’favourite customer. i only want you. i love you.”

“pleasure doing business with you sampo, my good boy”

if you enjoyed, please consider liking or even reblogging! any kind of interaction let’s me know that you liked this and gives me motivation to write more. make sure to follow to stay up to date with all my thoughts <3

[ghettogirly]

Ok, What about armando aretas finding out you're pregnant with his baby. He found the stick (anywhere doesn't matter).

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍:

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

-> synopsis: what would armando be like if he found out you was pregnant?

-> theme: angst and fluff.

-> warnings: mention of abortion, mature language.

-> authors note: i’m currently posting this to keep you guys fulfilled while im working on some short stories. those take longer than these little headcanons so i apologise for the wait! hope you enjoy!! Let me know if you guys want a taglist as well.

[🕷️] 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

-> 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 that you was pregnant about a week ago when you kept throwing up in the morning and was more light headed than usual.

-> telling your friends about your symptoms one day at brunch caused them all to look at you with widened eyes, their faces being explicit with the same expression. Fear.

-> “bitch, you’re pregnant.”

-> “what is armando going to think about this?”

-> what is armando going to think about this.

-> she was right.

-> you guys have never even discussed having kids before, both still being fairly young as you were under the age of 25.

-> you only worked in a cake shop as you was still a student, trying to finish your college degree.

-> the weight of your friends opinions dawned on you as you slowly sipped the lemonade you bought, the icy temperature of the drink awakening your nerves.

-> “fuck.”

-> 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 laid there on the marble countertop as both of your hands were rested by it side by side. Your hair hung down as you stared at it.

-> It was really true. You was pregnant.

-> The overwhelming thoughts clouded your mind, removing the ability for you to be happy about the idea of motherhood. Instead somber about this rude awakening. It wasn’t meant to happen now. Was it ever supposed to happen?

-> You and Armando never even spoke about the possibility of kids, just focusing on your free-spirited relationship as you both did whatever you pleased. Parties, meetings, the thrill of running from danger, running from law enforcement.

-> That was all going to change.

-> A wet feeling landed on your hand. Then another and another. It was teardrops. The transparent dots of water dropped onto your hand, staining them a little. Eventually an avalanche of tears would cascade down your face, causing you to uncontrollably sob as the obsessive thoughts became more and more out of control.

-> “Babe, ¿Estás aquí?”

-> Your eyes quickly widened as you heard a voice downstairs in the living room, the only man having that deep of a voice, your man. Armando. Quickly wiping your tears, you threw the stick into the bin next to the toilet, walking out of there as if nothing happened.

-> However, it was as if Armando sensed something was wrong. Not being a man of many words, he just simply raised his eyebrow at you, referencing for you to tell him what’s wrong. Yet, you just rolled your eyes and smiled. “Nothing is up.”

-> Still not satisfied he looked at you intensely, his face stoic as ever. Nevertheless, he left it alone and trusted you to tell him eventually. “Perdón por llegar tarde, estaba ocupado.”

-> You bring him into a hug, not caring about him being late. Just being happy he’s finally home. He wrapped his arms around you, engaging with the hug as his pointer finger tapped you gently on your back. That being a little thing he does, acknowledging how much he missed you.

-> 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃, you was passed out on the couch after watching a movie with Armando. Your empty takeout boxes being on the table.

-> Armando went upstairs to shower, allowing the water to cleanse not only his body but his mind too, the day for him being exhausting. He moved his hand to turn the water faucet off, his black hair being a wet mess, dripping slightly on his shoulders.

-> The male opened the shower door. Picking up the towel from the sink, he noticed something stand out from his peripheral vision. He moved his head slightly to turn towards the object that caught his attention, noticing a blue and white stick on top of the trash within the bin.

-> Peering down at it, he noticed it to be a pregnancy stick. “¿Qué es esto..?”

-> 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏, you notice Armando in front of you. Slamming the object down onto the table, he looked at you. Anger controlled every feature of his face as he stood there. Digusted.

-> “Espero que lo estés terminando.”

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆:

-> 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑. You slowly sat up, facing him as his eyes were struck with concern. Still adjusting to reality, you rubbed your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

-> There he gently placed the stick on the table. Not saying a word, just looking back at you, waiting for you to lead the conversation. “I was going to tell you.”

-> “It was in the trash.”

-> You couldn’t object to that, he was right. You wasn’t really going to tell him, hoping that it was all just a lie and that the stick wasn’t even real. Hoping it was one big dream.

-> Looking at him solemnly, you felt your eyes welling up with tears the second time that day. This time, he didn’t say anything but embraced you into a hug instead, kissing your forehead.

-> “Enfermo nunca te dejan.. i would never abandon you.”

-> Those words were the music to your ears. “Damn these pregnancy hormones are annoying.”

[🕷️] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“¿Estás aquí?” : Are you here?

“Perdón por llegar tarde, estaba ocupado.” : Sorry for being late, i was busy.

“¿Qué es esto..?” : What is this?

“Espero que lo estés terminando.” : I hope you’re terminating it.

“Enfermo nunca te dejan..” : I’ll never leave you.

[leothil]

so i kind of took a hiatus for the first month the season was airing from episode 1 all the way to episode 6, so any chance you can link me to some fic recs that i missed during that time span by any chance. i think that was march to late april?

Hi, thanks for asking and sorry for the wait, but I was busy all day yesterday. Here's some I found in my log:

the going water and the gone by @try-set-me-on-fire, where Eddie goes missing in the cruise disaster and is presumed dead. 31.5k words, rated T

illicit affairs by @burnthatbridge where Buck realizes he's bi and starts dating men, but isn't sure how well he'll do at sex with them, so Eddie offers to help him out. It's not cheating when he's just helping out his best friend, right? Note that as of now it's unfinished, but I'd argue it's still worth seeing their stupidity at work. 42.6k words, rated E

hearts will hold by farfromthstars (@doeeyeseddie) where Eddie keeps canceling plans with Marisol to hang out with Buck instead. 3.1k words, rated G

don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by fleetinghearts (@shitouttabuck) where Buck and Eddie pretend-date each other during Chimney's bachelor party to be able to give Christopher advice about dating. 14.7k words, rated T

put my heart inside your palms by @markofalover where Buck accidentally calls Eddie baby and Eddie is overcome with love. 3k words rated T

every evening, every time by hrudayam (@eddiegettingshot) where Marisol points out that Eddie doesn't really talk about Buck, and Eddie is baffled but then the puzzle pieces start moving in his head. 2.4k words, rated T

rebirth by @renecdote, a Buck introspection fic where he lies and ponders his bisexual realization. 752 words, rated G

lest i go unsheltered by iphigenias (@oatflatwhite) where Buck comes out to Maddie. 1.5k words, rated T

my heart is working overtime by lecornergirl (@clusterbuck) where Buck sits with his feelings after 7x04. 1.1k words, rated T

my heart aches with love for you by farfromthstars (@doeeyeseddie) where Marisol slightly chides Eddie for interrupting Buck and Tommy's date, and Eddie kinda bluescreens. 1.8k words, rated G

got that, oh, I mean by @bekkachaos where Hen comes over to talk to Buck after 7x04. 2.7k words, rated T

some things fall when they're meant to fall by @sibylsleaves where Eddie realizes he'll never prioritize Marisol the way he does Buck, but his realization comes just a bit too late. 25.7k words, rated T

as lucky as us by hammersmiths (@henswilsons) where Ravi overhears and observes Buck and Eddie interact, and Suffers. 3.6k words, rated G

every little thing the sun shows, well it’s worth it by wafflesofdoom (@capseycartwright) where Buck drives to Hen to talk to her about his new realization and Tommy. 1.7k words, unrated but like G/T

so much to say that's subject-sore by @hattalove where Buck thinks calling Tommy his boyfriend feels wrong, even though he wants to continue dating him. 3.1k words, rated T

the gift you gave him by @thatbuddie where Tommy asks Eddie for tips on what Buck likes, and Eddie wonders why he feels weird about it. 5.1k words, rated T

I won't tell no lie by @lamardeuse where Hen shows up at Tommy's place to ask him about his behaviour while they worked together at the 118. 1.3k words, rated T

Ah hell this is so long already so I'll stop here, but feel free to come back and ask again after you've gotten through these, because I have many more! Actually, one last one I have to recommend immediately too:

good luck, babe by @hattalove, a twitter fic where an outsider observes Buck, Eddie, Marisol, and Tommy during Buck and Tommy's first date and tweets about it all. I cackled the whole way through! 2.1k words, rated T

[tiredfox64]

Hello! I know today is Father's Day and I don't see much father's day stuff so I was wondering if you could write different scenarios for each of the Lin Kuei trio that are surprised by the reader and their kids for father's day?

Happy Father’s Day

Yip notes: No fatherless behavior here

Pairings: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: FATHER INTO YOUR HANDS-

Bi-Han

Bi-Han was not big on Father’s Day. That day had been nonexistent for years and it truly ceased to exist once he let his father die. Even when he married you and you had his first child he could not care about Father’s Day. It’s just another day for him.

But he is a father now. You want to celebrate that because he was a good father to his son. He may be the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei but he still makes time to spend with him. He puts in a lot of effort to teach his son how to defend himself and encourages him to help you whenever you need it. Basically, he’s trying to teach him to be a man at five years old. It’s good to teach them responsibility early on.

There is one thing that Bi-Han wishes his son could be and that’s to be a cyromancer just like him. He hasn’t show any signs that he has this ability or any other powers. His son is an excellent fighter but he could do so much more if he had his father’s abilities. He can’t force the ability to perform cyromancy on his son, that’s obvious. He also won’t punish him for not having it.

But the universe is always surprising people. And there is a special surprise waiting for Bi-Han this Father’s Day that you have discovered.

While finishing up breakfast and giving your son his food you noticed him looking at his juice with a grumpy face. He looked at it like it insulted him. You checked to see if something was wrong with it but the only issue you could detect was that it was warm. No one likes warm grape juice. That’s when your son decided to place his hand over the top of the cup and you began to see cold mist emanating from his hands. Some of the juice began to freeze, even making a squeaking sound while forming. A couple of purple ice cubes floated to the top of the juice and your son continued eating breakfast like that was normal.

“Wha—When did you learn to do that?” You asked him. He shrugged like kids do when they can’t understand the impact that just had on a situation.

This was incredible. He’s a cyromancer just like his father! Oh you can’t wait to tell Bi-Han when he comes back. You gotta plan something to really surprise him.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

By the end of the day all Bi-Han wanted to do was have a good meal and relax. There was something wrong with some of his clansmen, they were acting crazier than his son when he didn’t get fruit snacks. He’s happy to come back to a sane wife and a tranquil son. But that smile on your face does not yell sane. It yells ‘You have something planned and that could mean murder’. You ran up to him and hugged him so tightly that he wondered where you gained this strength. After placing a dozen kisses all over his face you ushered him to sit down and eat.

“What did you do? Have you murdered someone? Are you trying to murder me now?” He has always heard about wives killing their husbands in creative ways but never would he imagine he would be a victim.

“No! It’s just a special day.” You reassured him that you wouldn’t kill him.

Me personally-

Bi-Han still looked at you with the tiniest bit of concern, but he did notice that you made him his favorite dish. He was incredibly hungry after the day so he really wanted to eat. As he satisfied his hunger your son came in with the teacups so you could serve his father some tea. Tea that was hella hot. Like hell kind of hot. Woman! What are you doing?!

The amount of stream coming from the warm liquid as you poured it into the cup indicated how hot it was. Bi-Han stared at it wide-eyed before staring up at you. But you acted clueless and like it was a simple mistake.

“Oops, looks like it’s too hot,” You looked down at your son, “Sweetie, would you mind helping mama cool down daddy’s tea?”

Your son was shaking his head frantically with so much excitement in his eyes. You picked him up and brought him closer to the cup but not too close that he would actually touch it. He placed both of his hands out. Soon, Bi-Han started to hear the sound of ice cracking and forming in a matter of seconds. The steam from the hot tea began to dwindle until it was a faint vapor. When Bi-Han looked closer he found that there were a few pieces of ice that seemed to be made from the tea. His eyes were now wide with surprise.

A faint smile appeared on your husband’s lips as he looked at you and your son. He got up from his chair and began hugging you both. He congratulated his son for gaining his abilities and having some control over them. Better to find out this way than when he has a tantrum. Then Bi-Han looked at you. There was so much love and adoration in his dark eyes. You were the woman to give him a wonderful son who he feels pride in. A son who everyone will believe is his. He could not thank you enough for giving him such a wonderful gift that he will hold onto until his death. He will forever be grateful that you gave him the family he desired.

He could thank you on Mother’s Day though.

Kuai Liang

You always informed your twins to respect their father. Kuai Liang was a hard-working man who built his clan from the ground up just so he could protect Earthrealm and more importantly his family. Even with all that responsibility weighing down on Kuai Liang he still made an effort to be with his children. He didn’t mind having his daughter and son by his side as he trained the initiates. They did help him calm himself down when the initiates were an absolute trainwreck. If his daughter wasn’t there patting his arm and telling him that he was doing his best he would have bursted out into flames a long time ago. She’s pretty smart for a five-year-old. And his son is pretty fiery. He’s yelling at those initiates like he was a drill sergeant.

Recently, the twins have been with you more often. That’s fine, he doesn’t think they are picking favorites, but he does miss their company. But they should get more time with mama. It’s important that you both get equal time with them.

Little does your husband know that you have been planning something for him. He didn’t even know Father’s Day was approaching. It will hit him in the morning.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

The twins came sneaking into the bedroom in the early morning. They don’t understand time, they only understand that the sun is up so it’s go time. They got onto the bed and began lightly jumping as they told their dad to wake up. Kuai Liang groaned as he slowly began to wake up to the sound of his children giggling. They shook him away and finally, he sat up.

“What is the matter?” He asked in a sleepy voice.

“We have decided that we should begin training now.” Your son spoke for himself and his sister.

Kuai Liang fully woke up at that moment. He has been waiting for the chance to teach them how to control their fire abilities. They were early bloomers so he has been dying to do this for a long time. I was you who held back on allowing them to train even though they begged. You decided to allow it for his Father’s Day gift. You were still lying down when he turned to you for approval. That’s when you gave him a thumbs up and he was out of bed. You’ve never seen him tie his hair up into a bun so quickly.

Throughout the whole day, you saw your husband and children running around the place as he helped train them. They were focusing hard on getting their abilities to work just so they could impress their father. Your daughter was the first to get the fire started, literally. Her hand would produce this thick, black smoke before catching on fire. Her fire was like ethanol fire with the bottom having a hint of blue before transitioning into orange. It stayed steady and Kuai Liang was impressed by his daughter's commitment.

His son…well he is fiery. He so badly wanted to impress his dad that he put so much energy into it that both his hands ignited. He was so excited and he placed his hands together to see how large the fire could get. He didn’t expect to make a tiny fire whirl. The fire grew skinny but longer and burned brighter as it twirled in his hands. Kuai Liang was not ready for that at all and was worried for a second before his son closed his hands. The whirl disappeared and his son turned towards him with a large smile on his face.

“Daddy, did you see that?!” He yelled with enthusiasm.

“How could I miss it?” Kuai Liang responded.

After that fire hazard of a training session, they actually trained with the other initiates. They listened well to their father’s instructions, better than the other initiates even with some being adults. They weren’t perfect but Kuai Liang was still happy to see them making an effort especially when they helped each other out. Hopefully, that sibling love stays forever.

Half of the day was done and Kuai Liang was more than happy with the results of the day. Once he got back to you it only got better. You served him his favorite dish and you all sat down to eat dinner together. He told you all about the kids’ achievements. It warmed your heart to see his constant smile as he listened to his son or daughter explain how they felt at that moment. And then your son created another fire whirl to show you at the dinner table.

“Hey! No creating fire at the dinner table! You can only do that if we are under attack.” You scolded your son.

The end of the day came and you both put the twins to bed for the night. They were incredibly drained from the day. They have small bodies you can’t blame them. You and Kuai Liang made your way back to the bedroom and started preparing for bed. Throughout the whole time you were getting ready he would occasionally add in something else that happened in the day or something that was on his mind. It didn’t matter if it was minimal or something theoretical he wanted to talk more about the day. You started to wonder if you would get any sleep that night. But he eventually shut his mouth since he needed rest for the next day.

You both lay in bed, his forehead pressed up against yours and his arms wrapped around your waist. The only sound left was light breathing. Both your eyes were closed and you both slowly slipped into slumber. He heard you say one more thing to him.

“Happy Father’s Day.” You whispered.

“Thank you.”

Tomas

Father’s Day has been special to Tomas since you first told him you were pregnant on Father’s Day. Seeing that little onesie made his heart explode and filled his mind with the many possibilities that came with being a father. Even when your son was a baby you still made sure to make Father’s Day eventful to show how well he was doing as a father. He truly was wonderful both before and after your son was born.

Now your son is five and he understands the concept of holidays which makes it easier to plan something for Tomas. You and your son are a team with the goal of making Tomas happy for the whole day. Your son was actually the one to suggest getting his father a new karambit. It sounded like a great idea but you had to make sure to get the right one for him. Not one that was cheap or the incorrect style like a folding one. You know how much he loves his usual karambit so getting one that will make him put that one down even for a second would be a challenge. But there has been no challenge that you haven’t overcome yet. You will overcome this one as well.

You suggested to your son to ask his father to take him on a hunt. Tomas always mentioned how he wanted to teach his son to hunt both as a way to defend himself and give him a chance at survival. Your son was getting interested in finding a weapon that would fit him best. A bow and arrow was what caught his eye. So you can kill two birds with one stone by allowing Tomas to teach his son to hunt and allowing your son to figure out a bow and arrow.

A plan was made. Now to wait for Father’s Day to come.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

The moment Tomas opened his eyes to the morning light his son was standing above him and asked him to take him hunting. It confused your husband because this was out of nowhere. But children decide things at random and go with it. So is it really all that strange?

Tomas debated for a bit, unsure if it was safe to do so. But he began hunting when he was six so what difference does it make? It’s one year early. If any danger were to occur, Tomas would defend his son to the very last breath. He looked towards you for approval and you said today would be a good day to do so. It was sunny and your son was clearly excited to go outside. Your husband smiled at you before giving you a kiss and getting ready for the day.

In less than an hour they were out of the house. Tomas had his karambit and a hunting knife while your son had a bow and arrow. That gave you time to prepare everything and hopefully that karambit you told Johnny to order for you will arrive in time.

Tomas was loving the conversations he was having with his son. He would randomly tell him facts about things in the woods that he learned from books you had around. He never knew there was a difference between an oyster mushroom and a maitake mushroom until it was pointed out to him. He decided to collect some for you to use later.

A few miles in, that’s when they spotted a pheasant in the distance. It was clearly a male since it was larger and more colorful. Tomas instructed his son to duck down behind a bush and keep an eye on the bird. They couldn’t miss it since its blue head popped out amongst the green foliage. Tomas helped his son to place the arrow correctly and told him to be very careful when pulling it back. Your son was very focused and his breathing was intense as he stared down the bird. Seconds passed, possibly minutes. The only sound that was heard other than the breathing was the wind. Finally, he let the arrow go and it flew in the air. It struck the pheasant and it fell limp on the ground. At that moment Tomas could not be any prouder.

He congratulated his son on his first hunt. Not only was it his first but it was a success. They were able to gather vegetables and meat to take home. When he looked down at his son from time to time he saw his younger self in him. A strong boy who was on his way to becoming a great hunter. He’ll be able to protect himself and hopefully protect you from any harm.

Once the sun began to set that’s when they made their way back home. Your son held onto his father’s hand the whole way even when they walked into the house. The pleasant smell of food hit Tomas’ nose and he recognized that you made his favorite dish for him. You absolute sweetheart, he’s so happy he married you.

He was ready to tell you all about the successful day they had once he sat down but when he did that’s when you placed a gift box in front of him. It didn’t look like anything extravagant but there was a soft smile on your face and an excited one on your son’s.

“Open it.” You gestured for him to do so.

Tomas was careful with taking the top off the box. The light reflected off the item and soon he realized what it was. A new karambit. It wasn’t just any ordinary karambit though. He took it and the handle felt perfect in his hands, like it was shaped for him. The blade was a nice, shiny black color with the sharp part of it being silver. Then something caught his eye. There was something carved in the blade. They were initials. They were his, yours, and your son’s initials.

Tears began to prick his eyes without him realizing it. The karambit just looked so beautiful and the day he had was so wonderful. He felt you and your son’s arms wrap around him before you gave him a kiss.

“Happy Father’s Day.” You said with love.

“Thank you…thank you both.” His voice quivered a little as he hugged you both back.

Yap notes: I would love to go to another baseball game with my dad. Or bet on horses. I love going to the racing tracks with him. Adiós!

[ariaste]

(Interview with the Vampire thoughts, i'm putting the label up here for my mutuals who aren't watching it, hi babes)

listen i have THOUGHTS about Daniel, alright, I just-- these messy bitches are SO messy, Louis and Armand are objectively awful people (and I love them SO MUCH but that's beside the point) and they are miserable and making each other worse and they keep talking over each other and trying to impose their own story over the top of the other one's story, and BY GOD the one thing they need more than anything else is for someone to just LISTEN

and then here's Daniel, a bright young(?) reporter with a point of view, whose whole job is to listen, and to ask questions that draw out the story instead of imposing his own.

there is something sacred in that solemn duty (and I do think Daniel would consider it sacred and solemn and a duty, it's IMPORTANT, he knows it's important, he has the tape playing in his head to tell him that it's important) -- something sacred, something almost holy, it's not an interview so much as a confession in the most literal religious sense, and Daniel is the one receiving the confession and is possibly the source of absolution, or at least the first step towards absolution -- he really is, you know, any healing that happened in this fucked up community did not start until Daniel was there to listen. He is the one who listens, who takes in every flaw and justification and excuse and inadvertent truth, he is standing in witness, he knows the subtle differences between sympathy and empathy and compassion and forgiveness and condonation, and he does NOT condone what either of them has (by god he does not condone), and forgiveness has not yet been earned, and sympathy is really not so much his style so that's not even on the table--

But empathy and compassion. Those are on the table. Because you have to have empathy to do the job that Daniel does, you have to have just enough compassion to show up and listen, to extend that moment of grace to the subject of the interview even if they're a monster, you have have enough empathy to give them the gift of a chance to bare their hearts and be as complex and fucked up and human as anyone else in the world, and welcome that complexity and embrace it. You'd have to love that person a little bit, I think, even if they're awful, because you cannot every fully understand something or someone unless you love them. But love, again, is not condonation or forgiveness. It is just love -- "You're fucked up and wrong and everyone here needs therapy, but I'm still listening to you and I'm still giving you a space to be your whole, messy, fucked-up self."

But then to do the job that Daniel does, you can't have so much compassion and empathy that you get personally entangled to the point that your objectivity vanishes. And yeah, Daniel is VERY MUCH personally entangled, but his objectivity is still there, he's still able to hold the story at arm's length and think, "These are unreliable narrators, bias is everywhere, memory is faulty. The truth will set us free, but it's not coming out of either of these bitches' mouths unless I go hunting for it."

Like look at poor fucking Armand who has had 500 years of some of the worst trauma a person can have, and he is used to being the victim and lying and manipulating to protect himself and to defuse the anger of people who have the power to hurt him, and he is a CONTROL FREAK about it, and he has probably never, ever, not once had someone showing up to really, really listen to him the way that Daniel listens. People come to Armand and yell at him or accuse him or attack him or force him to make terrible choices or coerce him into situations he did not freely choose -- has anyone ever just listened? Has anyone ever held space for him to be as scared and fucked up and cowardly and needy as he is, and simply patiently, compassionately held witness to it with measured objectivity? Can you imagine how delicious and heartwrenching and, yes, fascinating it would be if someone did that for you?

Daniel's a really, really good journalist. DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT WHAT A GOOD JOURNALIST HE IS. I JUST THINK WE SHOULD TALK MORE ABOUT WHAT A GREAT JOURNALIST HE IS

[a-spes]

| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS — Part three (1.965 words).

| Summary — you robbed the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Dark!Yelena Belova, mentions of sex, N is abusive toward R, starvation, sequestration/kidnapping, R being referred as a mutt, R has been drugged, slight comfort if you squint (or maybe it's just me), humiliation, injuries.

| N/A — It took me a while to write it, and it's shorter than the previous parts, but I hope you'all still going to enjoy it!

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

There are some things that cannot be forgotten.

The things you did were one of those. Not only you stole her wallet, but you also had the audacity to lie to her face. You were looking at her, straight in the eyes, when you told her how much you liked it. She had you right there, laying beneath her, begging and screaming her name for hours, and yet it was just a lie. Sometimes she wonders if your pleas when she had her knuckles buried deep inside you were also an act. Maybe. She can't know for sure.

But you've done worse. You've been haunting her mind since you two met at the party. You were like a poison in her life, ruining everything she has tried to build. Since that night, it has been impossible for the redhead to think about anything else. The woman that was known for her calm and sturdiness is now unable to stay focused during the meetings. On the rare occasions she decides to show up, she barely listens, passing time by tapping on the wood table.

Why is she wasting her time, sitting at that table and listening to a bunch of men talking nonsense, when she could be looking for you?

She easily could've asked her men to do the research for her, but it was very unlike the woman to ask for something then wait for the others to fetch it. Natasha Romanoff isn't a queen, nor an heiress. She is the CEO of one of the world's most successul company, one that was built on sweat and hard work. Hers. Not someone else's.

When it comes to that story, her actions are dictated by her emotions, by a desire for revenge that intoxicates her. She knows it, and somehow appreciates the feeling. At first, that was new and exciting, she was almost glad of what happened, but she eventually got bored of that game you were playing. As the years went by, the excitation was replaced by frustration.

She really needed you to fix the mess you've created in her life, whether you're willing to do it or not.

"The mutt is drooling on your couch," an unknown voice yelled near you, and it was followed by quick steps, as if someone came in running. A second later, you could feel a hand that harsly grabs your face, nails digging in your skin, leaving crescent-shaped marks all over your chin.

That's when you opened your eyes for the first time, gasping at the sudden contact. You don't remember much of what happened last night, but you firmly believe that it's Kate's fault because one of the last things you see is the black-haired girl sliding glasses of alcohol in your direction.

You weren't planning on drinking, at least not that much. You don't even like for real the taste of alcohol, and you definitely hate even more the following morning. A pitiful sound escapes your lips as you try to open your eyes, realizing that you are in a much worse condition that you thought. As always, you promise yourself that it's the last time, but it's never for real. It's so tempting to say yes when Kate offers to go out, to accept the drinks she hands you and let down your barriers for one night.

"Do not make your case worse," a second voice said, "you already have more debts than you'll ever be able to repay," it said before another hand grips your hair tightly, tilting your head backwards.

You were more tired than usual. It felt like a weight was pressing down on your whole body, as if it had become too heavy for you to bear. A simple blink of the eyes required inhuman efforts, and in that condition, it was unthinkable to raise your head to get a better look at the person who had just said those words. All you could see were patches of colour, and what you assumed to be red hair mixed with blinding light. But your surroundings were blurred, and you couldn't see much more. So when she threw you on the floor, you didn't even try to get up.

"Poor thing...," the blonde said, chuckling softly. "I mean, look at her! She has no idea what's going on," and it was true. When she looked into your eyes, all she could see was fear, and pain.

The drug they put in your drink was strong. Maybe a little too strong, if your condition is anything to go by. She didn't know if you could hear her, but she was sure you wouldn't be able to move for at least a few more hours. Even swallowing was too much to ask for the moment, and the stain that had formed on the seat of her private jet was the proof.

At one point, she felt sorry for you, sprawled out on the carpet, or maybe it was her younger sister's incessant complaints about having to step over your body every time she needed to pass that eventually irritated the redhair. In any case, at one point, she decided to take you in her arms with all the gentleness she could, careful to not let you fall. You were so calm, so malleable, unable to react as she manipulated your body as she wished.

Eventually, she sat with you on her lap. Your chest was against hers, your face forcefully burried in her neck as she played with your hair with a firm hand. Despite your instinct to flee, you quickly relax in her arms. Your anxious breathing eventually slowed down until it matches with hers, both of your chests raising at the same time. The hand that stroked your hair also worked it magic until you could barely keep your eyelids open.

"Already going soft with her?" her sister asked when she came back with two glasses of alcohol, both for herself, and witnessed her sister craddling the mutt in her arms, something she disapproves of strongly.

"Weren't you the one who complained about me leaving my things around?" she asked back, rolling her eyes as the youngest spoke.

"I was just saying," she replied, shrugging her shoulders before dopping heavily onto one of the seats, earning a dark look from her elder sister. She then lets her eyes rest on your form, already knowing that what will happen next is going to be interesting. You've been hard to catch, and she expects you to be at least as difficult to tame. She knows her sister always enjoys a challenge, and so does she.

It has been the last time you saw light, and not the artificial one from the light bulbs, but the real one, from the sun's rays whose warmth you missed. You could only dream of the light caressing your skin, enveloping you in its comforting warmth until you open your eyes. Then, you are greeted only by the coldness of the cell you've been threw in almost as soon as the plane landed. They didn't let you a chance to run away, not even to think about it, before they locked you up in here.

You haven't seen the woman since. Nor anyone else. Your only contact with the outside are the muffled voices coming from the pipes. If they're even real, and not just a figment of your imagination. You are not sure anymore what's real or not. You spend your time between drowsiness and sleep, and can't distinguish what belongs to which world anymore. Maybe you've started to go crazy. A long time ago, you've read an article about the importance for humans to have contact with others.

But you were alone. With no food, no water, and no idea of what would happen next. Is she going to let you starve in this place? Maybe. It would be cruel, a perfect punishment for a thief, but certainly not a glorious death. You hoped for a better ending, something masterful. You hoped you would die as a hero, not as some pitful criminal. Here, no one would find your body, and you were sure that no one would organise a funeral for you. They wouldn't even know your dead. That's the downside of having no ties — No one really cares about what may happen to you, they probably think you've run away. Again.

Sometimes, you think of Kate, your flatmate and coworker, and it's enough to breath a little bit of hope in your heart. If there is someone that cares about you in that world, it's her. She would definitely call the police and look for you until she find your body. She is not a traitor.

At least, if she is still alive.

You can't be sure. No matter how hard you concentrate, you can't remember the last time you've seen her, the end of the evening being just black. You tried, but it hurt your mind so you eventually stopped so you convinced yourself with the false memory that she came home earlier, and that she is fine, waiting for you to come back.

The thought that everything is going to be alright soothed you as you kept alterning between drowsy and asleep for a few hours, waking up suddenly at the slightest noise. It is hope that keeps you awake, and the fear of missing someone coming down, something that only happened after an eternal wait, when you stopped believing in it.

You are unable to move, laying on the floor with your knees against your chest. When you opened your eyes, you were expecting another disappointment but you catched the flickering light of a torch. For a moment, you thought it was the end of you. But no, you've heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, the one of a key and then a creaking door. The silhouette rising up in front of you was impressive, but it wasn't death.

"'Morning Sweetie," the voice whispered. It was followed by the metallic clutter of something being placed on the ground.

Then you saw it. A bowl lit by the torch's light. Inside, there is something that looks like porridge. It isn't very appetising, but you didn't care. You are so hungry that you would've swallowed anything she was willing to give you. You crawled to her feet, dragging your body over to the bowl, only for you hand to grasp the void when you reached for the plate.

A sharp pain in your wrist followed. It's her boot pressing down on your wrist as she puts all her weight into it, preventing you from moving. It hurts so bad that you thought, for a second, that she might have broken your bone.

"Aww...," she cooed, her voice dripping with false pity, "you didn't thought it would be that easy, did you?" When the only answer she gets from you is a whimper, she chuckles. "Such a stupid thing...," she murmures, but despite the appearances, her voice is everything but sweet. It's harsh, and mocking. "If you want to eat, you need to earn that privilege. Nothing will be free for you, until you've payed your debt," her warm breath hitting your cheeks as she knelt beside you to utter those words.

And you knew it wasn't a threat as she left you again, knocking the bowl over as she does so. It is a promise.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

| Taglist (only if you have your age in bio!) — @loneliestafterparty, @natsxwife, @olicity-boo, @skittlebum, @skqrlett, @thalia-is-not-ok, @tobiaslut.

[paradiseprincesss]

heheheh request for my baby girl jackson 🎀 jackson hires a call girl because he’s lonely one night and wants to feel alive. however, neither of them expected to get attached and despite him trying to convince her that he’s bad for her (he literally confesses that he’s a killer) he keeps on calling her up again. he loves her but he doesn’t want to be with her, she loves him but she hates how she feels for him type of shit. then when one night he calls her, she’s blocked him anddddddd i’ll leave the ending up to you!

bonus points for angsty.

song - die for you by the weeknd

i would die for you | jackson rippner

yes yes yes, anything for you my looooove! thank you for the wonderful ideas ily. also yall fw this pink theme or what 🎀

summary: jackson falls in love with you, a call girl, but he knows that this is bound to end in disaster. you feel the same way, so you two try to keep it strictly sex. however, one thing leads to another and feelings get involved.

warnings: smut, p in v, kissing, swearing, sex work, in general just smut and mature themes, mdni 18+ only

word count: 3.7k

masterlist

jackson reached over to his bedside drawer, rummaging for his wallet as he caught his breath. his hands grabbed at his wallet, and he pulled out ten, crisp, one hundred dollar bills, handing it over to you. pulling up the duvet to cover your bare chest, you offer him a half-hearted smile as you take the cash from him.

"you only owe me eight hundred." you inform him, counting the bills carefully.

"yeah well, you're worth more than that." he says shrugging as he put his pyjama pants on and got up to shower. "thank you for tonight."

"you're welcome, i guess." you say quietly, watching him disappear into his bathroom as you hear his shower running.

you sigh with frustration and get up to get dressed as you collect your things, along with the thousand dollars you'd just made in one hour.

perks of being a call girl, i guess.

you and jackson had an arrangement, but you both knew it was much more than that. it started when one night, he had stumbled across an escorting service's website because he was feeling a little...lonely, though he'd never admit that. he put in a request for their top girl, and that's how he had met you. jackson was stunned when you showed up to his house for the first time — he wasn't expecting someone so beautiful and classy to be working in a business like that.

obviously, the sex was good — great, actually — for both parties. typically, you would go sleep with whoever was paying you, and you'd just act it up. you know, fake it 'till you make it. however, there was no need to fake with jackson rippner. the way he fucked you was delicious. his thick cock had you screaming and moaning for more, clawing at his back and shoulders; marking him up as he left love bites all down your neck and collarbone.

at first, yes, it really was just strictly sex. however, after maybe the third time you guys had hooked up, it was clear this was crossing the threshold of "just transactional."

there was undeniable chemistry between the two of you, and neither of you could deny it. the way he looked at you with his pale, icy, blue eyes as he fucked you sensually, and the way you moaned his name as he made you cum.

yeah, it was definitely more than just fucking, but both of you pretended not to notice it.

you did your part by taking his money and hurriedly leaving out his door as soon as he paid you, and he did his due diligence by...well, that was the problem — he wasn't. he continued to overpay you on a regular basis, compliment you in ways that seemed a little too intimate and personal, and fucked you in a way he hadn't even fucked his previous girlfriends.

don't get me wrong; he knew that he shouldn't have been doing this, but somehow he got flustered and couldn't help himself every time you came around.

he knew about your profession, but you didn't know about his. that's why it would never work — i mean, you were a hooker of all things, and he was a killer for hire.

not exactly a match made in heaven.

as you were about to leave, you thought twice about it. the sudden urge to talk to him about how you felt wasn't going away. so, hesitantly, you sit back down on the edge of his bed in the clothes you came to his house in, and scrolled mindlessly through your phone as you waited for him to finish his shower.

"oh, i thought you left." you heard his voice say as the bathroom door opened, causing you to turn around in slight embarrassment.

"sorry, um..." you say sheepishly, eyes glued to him as water dripped down his chest and a towel hung around his waistline (god, it was so hot).

"is something wrong?" he asked inquisitively, raising a brow at you as you got lost in those impossibly blue eyes of his.

"okay, um," you take a deep breath in, "correct me if i'm wrong, but sometimes i feel like we're — god, this is so embarrassing — um, i feel like there's something here. like, between us."

you feel your face burn as you finally brought up the topic you've been dying to talk to him about, and he sighs as he looks at you with an expression that you couldn't quite read.

"look," he says, coming to sit beside you, "i'm gonna be honest with you - i know that there's something between us, but if feelings are going to get in the way of our arrangement, we can just stop."

"i didn't say we should stop," you correct him, "i just...you know, wanted to see if i was just making it all up in my head? i don't know."

"you're not," he says, shaking his head, "but i think we both know it's wrong."

the conversation suddenly got very serious, very fast. you weren't really sure what to say to this. was he telling you that he had feelings for you? did he not want to see you anymore because you said something? as the thoughts and questions were compiling up in your brain, he brought you back to reality as he spoke to you softly.

"i'm just gonna straight up tell you that i've sorta developed feelings for you," he sighed, "but i think for both of our sakes, we should stop this. as much i don't want to, i really think we should."

"wait, what?" you say, frowning, "like, stop our um, arrangement?"

"i pay you to play pretend," he explained, "i pay you to pretend to want me, but in all actuality, i've started to develop fucking feelings and an...attachment to this fantasy. to the idea of you being mine or some shit."

it was almost scary how level-headed he could be in a moment like this. you wanted to tell him to shut up and just kiss him already, but it seemed that for him, his logic was taking the reigns right now.

"...i just told you i felt the same way?" you say with confusion, and he looks at you, taking in every word you were saying as if he was trying to detect any signs of dishonesty coming from you.

"i'd be saying shit like that too if i was getting paid." he said coldly, suddenly putting his walls up which hurt you a little.

"jackson," you say softly, "it's not about the money."

he doesn't say anything, but he stares at you in a way that makes you want to look away; he was so intimidating.

"maybe at first it was," you ramble on, "but for the last three months, i haven't cared about the money i just— i care about you. i don't know what else to say."

your confession had him speechless along with yourself, as you didn't expect to be telling your client you had basically fallen in love with him tonight.

"i'm no good for you," he says quietly, "i'm only going to hurt you."

"that's just what you think—"

"no, it's not. it's a fact." he cuts you off with a stern tone.

"do you love me?" you suddenly ask, feeling bold as the adrenaline rushed through your veins, but you regretted it as soon as the words left your mouth.

who asks their client that?!

"do i love you?" he asks with a scoff, "what kind of question is that?"

"a yes or no question." you say matter of factly, deciding to finally push the boundaries of whatever this was.

"i..." he tried to get his words out, but he couldn't. he couldn't say that he didn't love you, as much as he tried, because he did love you. "fuck, i— yeah."

you tried to ignore the way your heart started to beat uncontrollably as he said "yeah," and you bit your lip whilst thinking up a response. but before you could muster up the courage to say anything back, he started to talk again.

"don't tell me you don't fucking feel the same—"

"i do!" you say defensively, "of fucking course i do, jackson!"

"but that doesn't mean things can work between us."

"why not?"

"because—"

"because what, jackson?!"

"because i kill people for a living, okay? how the fuck do you think i can afford to pay you thousands of dollars a week?" he exclaimed back as his jaw clenched out of frustration.

that shut you up — you weren't expecting him to confess his love and the fact that he assassinates people for a living to you all at once. you couldn't find the right words to say, as you felt like any and everything you could say would just frustrate him even further.

"i'm gonna go," you say in a whisper, rushing to get up as he sighed from behind you, "maybe i'll see you around."

that night, you went home in silence. there wasn't a lot to say - shit hit the fan in a matter of seconds. the two of you just basically told each other that you'd fallen in love, but that it wasn't ever going to work because of external factors...

like the fact that he killed people for a living and you had sex with strangers to pay the bills.

you two didn't see each other for almost a week, but one warm, summer night on a friday, your phone started to go off. looking down at the caller id, you felt your heart start to race — jackson was calling.

hesitantly, you answer the call. "hello?" you say, wondering as to why he would be calling you not even a week after saying you and him had to "end."

"hey," he replies casually, "can we talk?"

how typical, you thought to yourself. "i thought you didn't want to talk," you say quietly, "you said yourself that this isn't going to work."

"yeah well, i say shit i don't mean all the time." he says cooly, and you rolled your eyes at his response. "come on, babydoll. i know you're thinking of me, too."

"don't play with my feelings," you scoff, "don't tell me you love me then tell me you don't want to be with me, then call me up again."

"first of all, i said we can't be together because of my job, not because i don't care about you," he corrects you, "and i just wanna talk about us. i've been thinking—"

"you said you're no good for me," you interrupt him, "don't send me mixed signals cause—"

"don't fucking start with that," he says, cutting you off in return, "you know i'm not the type to call about shit like this, or really talk about it, either."

"if you're going to be rude, i'm hanging up." you say, but he laughs softly on the other end of the line.

"relax, babydoll," he says softly, "come over, i just wanna talk, s'all. i'll pay you good, too."

"i am not fucking you." you scoff.

"for your time. god, calm down." he says, and you swore you could hear him roll his eyes over the phone.

"you don't need to do that," you sigh, "i'll come over in a bit, kay?"

"nine thirty?" he asks softly, and you agree before hanging up.

when nine thirty rolled around, you were dressed to kill — not literally unlike some people. just because you weren't going to fuck him doesn't mean you couldn't dress the part.

you pulled up outside of his home and you made your way to his doorstep; your high heels clicking on the pavement below you. he'd answered his door within seconds after you'd knocked, and he drank your appearance in.

"fuck, you look sexy," he said, biting his lip for a mere second, "come in."

"hello to you too, jackson." you say with a half smile as you playfully rolled your eyes, following him inside.

the moment you two were alone inside of his house, your hands were all over each other. of course, this wasn't supposed to happen — you were supposed to be "talking," but it seemed that neither of you wanted to face your feelings.

so, sex was the alternative. neither of you had to talk about your feelings or face the truth, and in the end, he got to cum and you got paid. it was a win win...kind of.

and this is how it continued for weeks. he'd call you up even though he swore that "this was the last time" every single time you two fucked, and he promised he was done with you and you promised you were done with him. he was in too deep, he knew he loved you, and you were too far gone — you knew you loved him, too.

he didn't know why he kept denying himself of being with you, and you didn't know why you allowed him to continue to drag the both of you down together. it was an awful thing, really. however, the cycle was never ending until one night, you decided you were through with it.

you decided your heart had gone through enough with him. this was supposed to be your job — you should have never let him string you along like this when you were falling in love. of course, you knew he felt the same way but you also knew he would never act on his feelings — he was too cold for that.

right?

so, you blocked him. you blocked his number and gave him radio silence, not bothering to give any explanation or second chances.

jackson hadn’t even realized you’d blocked him until his calls were not going through to your number, and his texts had turned green. he couldn’t believe you — the audacity!

of course, jackson was, well, jackson, and in typical stalker fashion, he had his ways of knowing absolutely everything about you, down to your exact address.

you were currently on your way home from seeing a client, and as you parked on your driveway, you noticed that the living room lights seemed to be on in your home. that's strange, you thought to yourself, i swear i turned off all the lights before i left.

you unlocked your front door, quietly making your way into your living room before letting out a shrill scream. you placed your hand right over your heart in surprise, "what the fuck," you huffed, "what are you doing in my house?"

jackson looked up at you from your couch with a smirk; he was always so cocky. "did you really think you could just block me, babydoll?" he cooed, getting up to approach you.

as much as you wanted to tell him off for literally breaking into your home, you also knew what he did for a living now. so, you figured maybe it was best not to argue with a potential serial assassin killer — he was trained in getting away with murder, after all.

"i can't keep doing this with you," you say softly, watching him as he towered over you, "i-i know you can, but i can't. it's just— i can't continue with you knowing that i, er, you know..."

"what, babydoll?" he says with a smirk, "come on, you can say it."

"knowing i, ugh, love you."

your words make him smile, and he places a hand on your cheek. "awe," he coos, "do you love me, babydoll? you just can't stop yourself from feeling this way about me? is that it?"

"jackson," you whined, but he pulled you in by your neck, "don't—"

"busy day, huh?" he says lowly, "how many guys did you see today?"

"ow," you whisper, "j-just one, we didn't even kiss—"

his grip on your neck became a little tighter, and he smirked down at you while your hands reached for his in an attempt to get him to let go. "well," he says softly, "consider that the last time you'll ever go out with another guy. fuck your job — you're mine."

gently, he lets go of your neck and decides to grab you by your waist instead, pulling your body flush against his. "what are you talking about?" you ask, resting your hands on his chest.

"can't you see what you do to me?" he whispered against your lips, giving you a gentle kiss before pulling away, "you wan't my love? fine by me, i'll give it to you, babydoll. but i don't share, and i'm never going to let you go."

the silence was eerie and the air was thick was tension, but you decided to throw caution to the wind that night.

"then don't." you whisper, and jackson instantly pulls you into a hungry kiss.

the two of you continue like this for a good while, making out against every wall in your damn house while stumbling up the stairs and desperately trying to get to your bedroom. between sloppy, heated kisses, and hands roaming over each others bodies, you finally make it to your bed (and what a miracle it was was). you straddled him on your bed as you push him onto the mattress softly.

he chuckles lowly, watching you throw your top off and revealing the gorgeous, hidden lace underneath. no matter how many times he'd seen this, he could never get tired of it — ever. his hands reached up to paw at your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"you're my girl," he sighs, "gonna show you off every fucking day, take you with me everywhere i go, every time i have a...job to do."

you giggle and help him take his suit jacket off, and unbutton his shirt along with slipping off his tie. once the two of you were fully undressed, just in your undergarments, he flipped you over so that your back was pressed into the mattress.

"say you fucking love me — say it." he growls, slipping your panties off in a rush.

"i do," you whimper, "i love you, jackson."

"good fucking girl," he groans, freeing his cock as the pre cum leaked from his pink tip, "who do you belong to?"

as he lined his cock up with your drooling entrance, you sighed, "you, i belong to you."

"that's right, babydoll." he tells you, finally pushing himself into you.

your back instinctively arches at the feeling of his fat cock filling you up fully, and even though he's fucked you on countless occasions, he always stretched your cunt out perfectly. your dripping hole was wrapped around his cock and he didn't wait a single second before setting a soft but deep pace.

"fuck, baby," he groaned, "look at how well you take my cock. it's like you were made to be my little whore."

his degrading (but also, really hot?!) words had you clenching down on him, causing both of you to let out choked moans. "you like it, don't you?" he asked, "you love being mine."

"yes!" you wailed out, "m-mhm! i love it, jackson, i love you!"

"i know you do," he cooed as he continued to push deeper and deeper into your cunt, "don't worry, babydoll, i love you too."

you whine as he continued to fuck you into oblivion, his hands coming to wrap around your leg as he hooked it over his shoulder. the new angle was mind-blowing in every way. so deep, so pleasurably painful.

you were already about to cum — but he didn't show any signs of stopping. "please," you breathlessly moan, "s-so close, ohmygod—"

"already?" he teases, "oh, babydoll. you needed to be fucked by me, didn't you? go on, show me how good my cock makes you feel."

you panted and moaned his name over and over again, and your eyes rolled back into your head. with your eyes closed, you couldn't see it — but he had the biggest, cockiest grin on his face as he watched you lose yourself from the way he was fucking you.

you couldn't find it in yourself to formulate any words as his cock drilled you senselessly, and all you could offer was broken, choked moans and breathily spoken pleas of his name. jackson was high off the way you were reacting to his very touch — he'd never seen you like this before.

usually, you two would have pretty rough sex, but this was something else. sure, it was rough but there was something else lingering in the air; love, perhaps?

yes — love.

"shit," he breathily spoke, "m'gonna cum inside- fuuuck."

as you were busy coming undone on his thick cock, he felt himself slowly tip over the edge, coming closer and closer to his own release. after a few more lazy thrusts, he was pouring himself into you with a low groan.

he pulled out after he was sure he'd filled your pussy up with every last drop of himself, and you could feel his cum dripping out of your spent cunt. he bit his lip at the sight of it — his sticky, warm fluids seeping out of your pretty pussy, mixing with your arousal. it was sending jackson into overdrive.

as he laid down beside you, he watched you closely as you crawled over and snuggled into his side. with a gentle sigh, he wrapped his arm around you tightly, holding you against him tenderly for once. jackson wasn't one to be very loving, like, at all. however, he couldn't deny that with you, he couldn't stop himself.

neither of you could take the pain of going without each other forever, and both of you knew you'd never find someone better because you were right for each other.

the silence in your bedroom was peaceful — not a word was said but all the love was there. neither of you had to say anything aloud for it to be understood.

and though it took some time for jackson to be able to articulate the feelings he was going through, once he did, there was no stopping him. you could never change his mind now — you were his, and he was yours. jackson would kill for you.

you could even say that he would die for you, too.

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt 

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer 

@aprilsfrog05 @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii

@stsrfujid

[wingzie]

The Definition of Jikook: Through Others Eyes

“Becca, how would you define Jikook?” In the last few months I have been asked this several times. And not by Jikookers. Since my bad experiences with offline events, I decided (in typical “me” fashion) to just throw myself out there and keep moving forward. This included joining more Twitter GC’s or Discord Servers and going to more offline events. In one of the most recent events, I lived locally and wanted to help. Therefore, I offered to escort some anxious Army from the train station to the venue.

Anyway, I was still cautious about going and, though there were a few odd moments, the event went really well overall. Something else kindled during this event that I did not expect: The desire to talk more about jikook. Before, even mentioning Jikook as a unit and not as Jimin and Jungkook was almost seen as a taboo. Especially compared to the other units that we are familiar with. Due to me no longer giving a damn and using my main twitter account, people relating to the event knew who I was and they had questions. Very interesting questions. About Jikook. About their enlistment. About the travel show. This was a pleasant surprise and it shocked me that some of these people already knew quite a lot without me telling them anything. Including some information that I thought was only in the Jikook circles. I asked one person why they didn’t talk about Jikook as much on Twitter and they said because they were scared with all the shipper fights. Which is quite valid really. If all you see whenever Jikook is mentioned is constant fighting, then you would distance yourself. It made me realise something though: 

Even if someone isn’t talking about Jikook. They are still watching and are very much aware of what is going on.

Sometimes we amplify the wrong things and we give the loudest voices to the negative comments. When I do the Live Reactions series, I will sometimes have hundreds of positive screenshots to go through and then(somehow) pick twenty-five of them for the thread. It was really interesting to see so many people talking about Jungkook going Live whenever Jimin went overseas or about the travel show. It also reminded some of moments that were sadly forgotten about.

This touches on something else too. Our traditions as a fandom have somewhat changed. With the removal of the social media awards, we no longer boost BTS’ history like we used to. Elon has also changed how we find content, with the removal of “moments” and advanced searching now being really difficult to find things. There is still hope though. With Jin’s return, it was lovely to see so many asking about Jin as a person or how Festa would work. Sharing old memories and watching Bang Bang Con together added so much value to our experiences together as a fandom.It’s something we should treasure. 

BTS have shared so much with us and it’s why I’ll forever be thankful for archive accounts. With every post or comment shared with others, we encourage them to learn more about the members or to watch content they may not have seen before. I experienced this myself when I mentioned Bon Voyage to someone who didn’t know what it was. They had only watched “In the Soop” and were excited by the concept of the members going abroad together. I hope they enjoy it!

Going back to Jikook, I have seen an increase of positive engagement surrounding them. This includes in both online and offline spaces. It makes me excited for when the travel show comes out and the conversations it will create, with so many already floating around. When I am asked how I define them myself, I try to turn it around. It doesn’t matter what I think about Jikook or how I define them. That should be obvious by my account. What matters is how others do and the respect that it holds.