#school flashing beacons

[elteccorp]

School Beacon System

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[sourlemonadez]

Sorry fellas, my blog is mostly dedicated to the robot goobers and I didn't initially want to post anything unrelated to the dca since people probably wouldn't gaf but at the end of the day it's my blog and you shall suffer

He's such a creature. Oh god a fish. I love that handsome fish man

Never in my life have I thought I'd love a roblox horror game, didn't seem like a game for me and yet it was so happy I gave it a shot

[lycansprites]

Pressure is an amazing game where "flashing" an enemy is a reasonable and frequent course of action that changes your further gameplay entirely

[valsverse]

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ I WANNA BE YOURS | percy jackson x gn!reader

percy jackson looks at you like you were the one who put the stars in the sky.

the son of poseidon gazes at you with so much awe and admiration in his eyes that most people would think you had just defeated a minotaur with your bare hands, or cured cancer or saved the world from total destruction, something that would be remembered for centuries to come. but in reality, all you did was toss a few nuts to the squirrels that scurried around camp. percy jackson looks at you in such a way that even aphrodite herself would point and squeal.

though, he'd never admit to that. the only telltale sign of his infatuation is the rosy tint that creeps up the tips of his ears every time you you pass by, and his lips that struggle to stay in a straight line whenever you flash him that smile—the one that makes his heart leap up and into his throat. even after four years of friendship, percy still hasn't figured out how to sit next to you and not be totally in love with everything you do.

it's as though you have some sort of magic power over him—a power that he's powerless to resist. and as much as he'd like to deny it, he secretly revels in the feeling.

but percy jackson would never confess his desires for you—not when kronos is still actively seeking to wipe out the demigod population. he can't afford to display any signs of weakness.

but it's worth it, he thinks, to risk everything just to wrap his arms around you and plant a kiss on your lips that would set the world on fire. yet he knows he can't—not without endangering you. not without putting you in harm's way. so why is it so unbearable to imagine life without you, when you were never really his to begin with?

and in those moments, when his mind is consumed with thoughts of you, memories of your touch and your gaze playing on repeat in his mind, he's left thinking, 'did i imagine it?' did he dream up the way your touch lingered on his arm as you adjusted his armor? the way you looked at him across the dining pavilion before turning away, as if you'd been caught in the act of something secret and sweet? he must have, right? because you would never look at someone like him with such tenderness. not at someone hot-headed and impulsive, someone with so many rough edges. no, you couldn't have looked at him like that. it must all be in his head.

you couldn't have looked at him the same way he looks at you.

despite his best efforts to conceal it, percy's convinced that everyone can see right through him. he knows that everyone can see right through him. the teasing from his fellow campers has been relentless—nicknames hurled his way, each one more unflattering than the last. romeo, hopeless romantic, loverboy..

loverboy.

he's no loverboy. not some kind of lovesick puppy at the mercy of some unattainable crush. no, that nickname is only reserved for the truly whipped, those who are wrapped around someone's finger, glued to their side at all times. he's no..

and then his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, suddenly alert. and there you are, all dazzling and gorgeous, a beacon in a sea of identical orange t-shirts and jeans. you stand out as though a spotlight has been trained on you alone. which is weird because to most people you're just another camper. albeit, an incredibly beautiful camper, but still, just a camper. so why is he so infatuated with you, specifically?

maybe he is a loverboy.

the realization hits him like a ton of bricks, and he almost groans out loud. can't he just carve his heart out and be done with it at this point? isn't that what the poets do?

but since he never really cared for those dead old men taught in school, like edward allan poe or whatever his name was, he'll settle for just daydreaming now. he'll settle for stolen glances across the room and the brush of your hands as you reach for a book. he'll settle for relishing in your little touches and how your lips shine in blueberry chapstick until he's ready. he'll admire the curve of your nose and the triumphant hugs you give him after your team wins capture the flag. he'll settle for it until it's not enough anymore. he'll settle for it until he needs more.

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: you win the championship and paige shows you how proud she is.

warnings: smut, spitting, strap, thigh worship, clit play, size kink, sort of breeding kink, paige is horrendously down bad 🔥😝

word count: 2.7k

author note: so lazy with this one; i just rly liked the request idea as a former volleyball player :D!

Paige Bueckers, the star basketball player at your school UConn & also your girlfriend, and you merely had any time to see each-other due to the demanding nature of your athletic lives. You missed her dearly. The separation had led to some desperate late nights of falling asleep on facetime, sending one and other awful sappy texts throughout the day, and even FaceTime sex, a whole new low for you both. You hated living this way, but as two athletes who had thankfully and unfortunately fallen in-love, you had no other choice than to reap you had sowed. The basketball season hadn't even ended when the volleyball season began in earnest, each moment passing in a blur of practices and matches. Your schedules were back-to-back, the end of one season blending into the beginning of the next, and you didn't have a chance to see each-other until now, just as the volleyball season was coming to end, with UConn at the NCAA Women's Volleyball Championship, the game you had invited her to. Your nerves were soaring. You had played and beaten all these other teams relentlessly over the past month, but knowing it all rode on this, while your overly-competitive and patriotic husky girlfriend watched from the crowd, made the pressure even more intense. As your girlfriend always said, "You have to feel the noise." The gymnasium roared with the intensity of a thousand heartbeats, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished wood blending with the rhythmic chanting of "Let's go, Huskies!" The scoreboard flashed 24-23. One more point, and UConn would be the champions. You never recalled Paige or her friends being volleyball fans, but they were at the literal edge of their seats from your peripheral vision as you tried to stay focused on the huddle, mind racing. "Alright, girls, this is it. One point stands between us and victory. We need to be sharp, focused, and give it everything we've got. Remember the training, remember why we're here." said Coach, his voice, though calm, carrying the weight of the moment. You glanced around at your teammates, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and determination. Your own heart pounded like a drum in your chest - the pressure, the responsibility, but also the exhilaration of the challenge. As you all broke the huddle, you didn't miss the resolve in everyone’s eyes. The team took their positions, and you moved to your spot at the front left, just before Paige, on the sidelines. You glanced over at her, eyes a mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but she met your gaze with faith in her eyes as she clapped her hands together enthusiastically, encouraging, "You got this, baby." warmly and lovingly. You sighed deeply, pointing to Paige as you locked eyes with her, conveying your commitment. Despite the times you had to prioritize other things over your relationship, you were determined to make it right and fulfill your promises to her by obtaining the game-winner point. The setter, Jessie, gave you a nod, her expression steely and confident. When the whistle blew, and the opposing team served, the ball sailed over the net, a blur of motion. Sara, the libero, dove expertly, digging the ball out with a perfect pass to Jessie. The ball floated high, a beacon of hope in the air, and Jessie’s hands moved with practiced precision, setting the ball up perfectly. Time seemed to slow down as you took the approach. Three quick steps, a deep breath, and then you were airborne. The gym seemed to hold its breath with you. Your eyes locked onto the ball, and in that split second, all the hours of practice, all the sweat and hard work, crystallized into this one moment. You brought your striking arm back, muscles coiling like a spring, and then snapped forward with all the force you could ever muster.

The sound of the spike echoed through the gym, a sharp crack like a lightning strike. The ball rocketed over the net, angling hard toward the far corner of the court. The opposing blockers, despite their best efforts, were a split second too slow. Time resumed its normal pace as the ball hit the floor with a resounding thud, just inside the line. The referee’s whistle blew, signaling the point and the win. For a heartbeat, there was silence, the realization settling in. And then, the gym exploded into cheers, a wave of sound that crashed over it. Your teammates swarmed you, their joy infectious, and you jumped, shouted, and hugged until you collapsed onto the floor, eyes shut. Reclined on the court, inundated by the applause and the profoundness of the moment, a tender touch on your shoulder prompted your eyes to flutter open, tears welling up. "Hey," she murmured softly, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your forehead, and you found yourself unable to hold back your deeper sobs. Opening your eyes, Paige knelt beside you, her beautiful face everything you needed to cap off a perfect night. She had this way of picking you up, not just physically, even though she does, but emotionally too, almost as if she always knew when you needed that reassurance. Paige didn't say more. Understanding the depth of your feelings, she simply held you close. As tears streamed down your cheeks, mingling with the shouts of celebration around you, you felt an overwhelming gratitude for her unwavering presence. Looking into each other's eyes, you couldn't help but smile. Paige always tried to lighten your mood, no matter how serious the situation. She tapped your cheek in a playful slap. "Lighten up, buttercup," she teased, "You just won the fuckin' championship and you out here cryin'?" You chuckled softly, cupping her face gently. "You're a bigger crybaby, Goldilocks." You know that moment, where everything else fades away and it's just the two of you? Yeah. Disregarding your family-friendly contracts, you leaned in and kissed your girlfriend the way you'd been longing to for ages. Despite the potential fallout from managers and anyone else, it felt incredible to feel her lips moving against yours in that way that always left you breathless. Her big, comforting hands enveloping you, rubbing the small of your back. You broke away, saying softly, "Let's go home." ----------- Though Paige was blonde and not the sharpest, it didn't take a genius to know what you meant by "Let's Go Home." You guys barely make it inside before she's turned you around against the apartment door, eagerly trying to yank your shorts off and get a taste of what she saw over the phone the previous weekend. You turn, gently pushing her head away. "No!" you insist. Like a bewildered puppy, she looks at you with confusion, panting. "I-... Is that not why you wanted to come ho-" "I have to shower, Paige, you're gross," you say firmly. She rolls her eyes, tugging at your shorts again, all the while planting soft kisses up your thick volleyball-girl thighs, really trying to entice you. "Pleaseee, baby," she begs, lips softly sucking a hickey on the front skin of your right thigh, leaving a trail of gentle kisses as her mouth inches closer to your pussy, her hands caressing your ass eagerly.

"I don't care. You know I don't," she tries to reason, her voice muffled against your clothed cunt, desperate to taste you. But you stand firm, looking down at her kneeling before you.

You push her forehead back with your fingers, before gripping her chin gently in a smooth motion. "You're such a desperate little slut..." you cooed, voice ruling.

Paige, the usual tough guy is photographable when she sticks out her tongue obediently, entranced, and you grant her request, spitting directly into her mouth and gently closing her jaw to ensure she swallows it before trailing off.

She closes her eyes, wanting to say strong. It truly does take all of her restraint not to tackle you and kiss you senseless because damn, it was so hot when you dominated her like that. She's so weak in the knees after the moment that she stays there until you finish your shower.

Before meeting you, she was used to being in control, but you always stripped her of her resolve. It left her a trembling soaking wet mess as she trudged toward the bedroom, where she found you naked on the bed, your hair wet and your body glistening, even wetter. She loomed in the doorframe, unable to tear her gaze away, captivated by the sight of you.

"Oh fuck, baby," she bellowed, "Shit, I- You're so fucking gorgeous, I-"

"Shut up, Paige," you interrupted, then spread your legs invitingly, your sparkling wet pussy on display for her eyes that lit up like a supernova. "You know, words are cheap. Show me. I want to feel it," you whispered, the sound of your voice like a siren, drawing her closer, your head tilted with a determined gaze.

She sauntered up to the bed. It was as if you blinked, and suddenly Paige was partially naked, still clad in her boxers. Her lips came to yours first, tongues intertwining hungrily, and you eagerly share your saliva, having left her mouth dry with your words.

As she drips what you gave her down onto your cunt, the trickle of saliva tickles you, sending shivers through your body and making your toes curl with anticipation.

"You look so hot when you're fucking me, babe," you tease her, and she lets out an impatient groan, lifting your body and placing your legs over her shoulders.

Her long fingers teasing up and down your slit elicit a velvety low whine from you, a sound that's more a reflex than a conscious choice, knowing it drives her crazy.

"Hold them," she murmurs, her breath warm against the back of your ankle. Lost in bliss for a moment, you don't comply, relishing in the way her fingers touch your clit like its her own body.

The stroke of her fingers always begins with a feather-light touch, barely grazing the surface like she's tracing delicate paths mapping constellations in the night sky.

Then, the tempo builds gradually, each stroke gaining confidence and purpose, lingering momentarily in certain spots where her touch elicits a buck or arch of your back. She stops abruptly, smacking the side of your ass-cheek lightly.

"I said, hold 'em, baby," she insists sternly, and you realize she's motioning to your ankles.

Paige wants you to hold them. She's usually a gentleman and does it herself, but you suppose you've riled her up too much today. Paige steps away from the bed and retrieves a box hidden underneath it.

Expecting something wild like restraints, you watch as it lands on the bed, revealing it's actually a package from a toy website. When she pulls it out of its wrapping, your eyes widen, and you try to shift to get a better look, but she stops you and says firmly, "Up. I didn't say you could drop 'em." Is she crazy? You think to yourself.

"You're out of your mind, Paige! What are you doing with that?" You're more the old-fashioned girl.

More 'hands-on'. And you've also NEVER had anything of this size in you, so you're rightfully scared, but Paige's hand presses you back down by your stomach and she insists, "You'll like it." As she fits it onto herself, she adds, "We both will. I got it for tonight since I knew you'd win, champ." That flatters you enough into relaxing briefly, but when you feel Paige atop you again, fear makes you instinctively want to shut your legs.

She sighs, "Stop playing with me," she chides gently, and you whimper, "I'm scared."

She smiles softly. Paige leans down and kisses you tenderly, then guides your hands to your ankles again as she reassures, "It'll hurt for a second. But after, I'll make you feel so good you won't even think about it." You nod, trusting her.

“Plus... with how wet you are, I should just-" the hum of a buzz fills the air as she presses the girthy length against your cunt, her bottom lip curling inward as she ruts forward. "Yeah, fuck.. I should slip right in there, right, ma?" she's asking for your permission now, but the way her abs clench, her hair tousles, and her face contorts... you don't hesitate or think about yourself.

"Put it in, Paige, please," you urge. With that, she starts, the thick tip barely penetrating your first layer before you're clawing at your own ankles, gasping for breath as Paige watches with focused intensity, her cheeks hollowed. The entrancement in her blue eyes as she watches you take her in is intoxicating, and you moan in response. "Aww, yeah baby... I know it's big, I know," she murmurs.

 "I just want to bury my cock in you, okay baby?" she opines delicately. "Okay.. Mkayy, just- oh!" the snap of her hips sends your body rocking backward, head against the headboard, a pillow thankfully cushioning the impact. "You okay? I'm not breakin' ya?" she inquires gently, but even if she is, you refuse to give her the satisfaction of knowing so. However, it's evident—the burn of the stretch makes tears prickle your eyes, and she can see them.

Yet, she wants you to lie so she has a reason to continue fucking you senseless. "M' fine," you fib, and Paige throws her head back, thrusting again with a grunt, this time fully entering you with a groan of satisfaction following. She thinks aloud. "So tight, baby... nobody else fucks you like this, I love it." You look down and realize a small vibrating device is pressed against her clit, and you feel a thrill knowing she can feel its sensations, basically meaning she can feel you. "Is my pussy good?" you ask teasingly, and she knows you're only trying to rile her up, to get her to obliterate you, so, she resorts to her only solution and turns you over. She fucks you from behind, gripping your hair, and the backwards angle in which her cock fucks into you has you arching your back and throwing it back, despite the sting everytime you guys meet each other's thrusts at the same time. "Keep throwin' it like that baby, fuck," she moaned. Each time your ass met her hips, the slam echoed loud, and you gripped the sheets, clinging onto your life as she placed her hand on your ass, the other into your back, holding you down as she had her way with you. "You look so sexy when you take me, babe," she coos softly,  and you gasp.

"I'm gonna cum, P," on the verge of completely letting go. "I-.. me too, baby. This pussy makes me want to cum so hard," Gazing at her over your shoulder and sending her into overdrive, you utter, "Do it, P." through lidded eyes. "Cum in me, mommy, I want your-" She speeds up, the nearly inhuman quickness sending precum oozing out of you as you whined desperately. "You want my what, baby, my what? Tell me, ma, lemme hear it. Wanna give it to your pretty pussy."  "I want your babies, Paige, please." Her thrusts became erratic, each one driving deeper and faster. Your body tensed, teetering on the edge. “Yes, Paige, please,” you begged, feeling the pressure build to an unbearable peak. With a final powerful thrust, you both shattered. Your vision blurred as waves of pleasure surged through you, your muscles contracting uncontrollably. Paige let out a guttural moan, her grip on your ass and back tightening as she came hard, the intensity of it all leaving the both of you trembling and breathless, clinging to each-other in the aftermath. Paige was so right. You did like it. If this was just for one win, a big one, then imagine the next win, the bigger one. MASTERLIST

[captain-hawks]

hajime umemiya x reader

c: fluff, pining, brother’s best friend!hajime

for all that’s changed in your hometown since you moved away to college, some things, it seems, will always stay the same—like your unfortunate affinity for running into hajime umemiya half asleep in your rumpled pajamas in your parents’ kitchen.

it seems impossible, that your older brother’s best friend has somehow grown even more handsome in the three years since you left.

the pictures to be found of him on social media are scarce, his own infrequently-updated feed is nothing more than a showcase of updates on his vegetable garden. but the rare, recent ones you’ve caught from acquaintances—and stared at for far longer than you’ll ever admit—clearly haven’t done him justice.

his mid-20s have done little to change his penchant for pushing his wavy white hair away from his face though, and one rogue lock rests against the prominent scar on his eyebrow. it’s embarrassing, the way your fingers still twitch at your side with the urge to touch it after all this time.

(and it’s even more embarrassing—how long your stupid, lovesick heart has carried a torch for him.)

“fancy seeing you here,” he grins, looking up from where he’s leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone—likely waiting for your lazy brother to drag himself out of bed.

“hey umemiya,” you chirp, quickly averting your gaze from his blue eyes, heart thundering in your chest as your arm brushes his when you go to open the cabinet beside him.

there’s warmth at your side as he spins, his body nearly caging you in as he casually reaches up to grab the box of cereal your fingers were stretching for. the same kind the two of you always used to sit at the table and eat on mornings like this, when he’d plan something foolish like an early hike with your brother and end up at whims of his terrible sleep schedule.

“hajime,” he says, placing the box down in front of you. running a hand through his hair, he gives you a rueful smile.

your toes curl against the cool floor tiles.

you’ve been on a first-name basis with him for long enough, but it’s always felt too intimate—like the way your lips and tongue move around the syllables will unwittingly serve as a blatant beacon announcing the truth of your pitifully unrequited crush on the man standing next to you.

“hajime,” you repeat softly, heart involuntarily bouncing against your ribcage at the way his eyes crinkle at the corners in response.

the sound of your phone vibrating against the countertop drags your attention away from hajime, but your lips turn downward in annoyance as you see the name that flashes along your screen.

“your brother said you guys broke up,” hajime states casually, eyes darting away from your phone and back to your face after he reads your ex’s name.

“because cheating on me once just wasn’t enough,” you sigh, flicking a button to silence your phone and decline the call. the joys of a long-distance relationship with your lame high school-turned-college boyfriend.

“i wish he would have let me kick his ass after the first time,” hajime crosses his arms, brows furrowing.

warmth unfurls in your gut, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, “how’d you know about that?”

he scratches the back of his head a bit sheepishly and then shrugs. “i may have asked your brother what was up when you stopped posting pictures with him for a little while last year.”

there are too many variables and factors bouncing around in your sleep-addled brain to find the sum of all these parts, logic slipping through your fingers like the honey-sweet feeling dripping down your spine and coating your nerves.

don’t be ridiculous.

“you could’ve just asked me,” you nudge his foot, feeling a little bold, like you can blame your uncharacteristic forwardness on exhaustion.

he mirrors the motion, then briefly catches the back of your ankle against his. “you changed your number.”

you did, after losing your old phone, though you hadn’t quite felt bold enough to message hajime on social media out of the blue to share your new number. your brother was always the proxy between the two of you, after all.

unlocking your phone, you hand it to him, suppressing the subtle shudder that runs down your spine when his fingers brush across your own. his lips quirk upward as he types, holding your phone out to you a moment later, only to snatch it back, reaching a hand out to pull you beside him.

with one arm wrapped around your shoulders, he finds his way to the instagram app, both of your faces popping up on the screen as he flicks to a story post.

“i just woke up!” you protest, like your legs aren’t threatening to give out under you.

he leans closer to you, the gentle scent of his shampoo leaving you dizzy on the inhale, a lock of his hair tickling your face.

“you look cute like this,” he grins, choking out a laugh when you pinch his side.

he snaps the photo and quickly clicks the post button. then he lets you go just as fast, like you’re not prickling with heat from head to toe, though you still find your shoulder flush with his when you lean back against the counter beside him.

opening the post, you have to stifle the sound that dances eagerly against your closed lips. the picture makes your heart lurch—his eyes are crinkled shut in laughter, his face turned slightly into yours, your smile bright.

he leans into you a little more, looking down at the picture with you, tapping the side of his foot against yours.

“he’s probably checking your posts,” he shrugs, eyes sparkling with mirth and something else you can’t quite identify.

“umeeee,” your brother’s tired voice interrupts you as he slinks into the kitchen, fully dressed—though his t-shirt’s clearly on backward, and his hair looks like he lost a fight with his pillow.

hajime pushes up off of the counter, fingertips skirting against your forearm in the whisper of a touch as he turns back to you before leaving and grins, softly murmuring, “text me sometime.”

[butmakeitgayblog]

Teach Me

Ch. 8

Woods residence

/////////

The street that matched the address in her phone was slim. An offshoot sat sleepily on the outskirts of towns, stippled with cars sitting under twin rows of shady trees that dotted the entire block. 

Sedans sprinkled themselves in among driveways filled with minivans and SUVS; all decked out with bike racks, tags denoting the proud parentage of some middle school kid, and more than a few sprawling stick-figured family trees that would leave anyone wondering if these people had ever heard of birth control. 

Every lawn looked manicured with its little picket fences. Every house, a revolving shade of white, eggshell, or beige. 

Clarke had to double check her GPS just to make sure the satellite triangulation hadn't somehow directed her to Mayberry circa 1930.

Only one house stood out in such an HOA hellscape. 

A shining beacon among the drab suburban nightmare, all ash-toned trimming and rustic finishes that complemented its deep, grey stone facade. It was a single-story lot stretched out from one boundary line to the other, creating an angular pancake sort of a house, squat and rather moody (if a house could even be described as such), topped with a slate roof with dark shutters, and a rough-cut stone chimney stretching skyward on one side.

The sight of it made Clarke smile as she parked under the shade of the house's designated curbside oak. 

Lexa had indeed said she couldn't miss the place.

Clarke spared herself a once-over in the reflection of her car's window when she hopped out, taking a second to check the understated allure of her makeup and the exact placement of the deep v-line of her sweater. 

A waist-high swinging iron gate decorated in blunted curls and ornate geometrics separated the manicured sidewalk out on the street from a front yard left to breathe and bend at its own will. Clarke made her way through the controlled chaos of the front walk, admiring the twin lilac bushes that flanked either side and drifted her fingers along the purpling of their first Spring bloom. An obnoxiously yellow jeep that Clarke would've never imagined for her tweed-and-tie wearing professor sat parked in the driveway in all its garish glory, sticking out like a sore thumb amidst the beige single file suburban backdrop.

A heated swoop flashed through Clarke's belly as she took the two front steps in one go, and she wondered when that delicious aching had replaced the more innocent flutter of butterflies. When just thinking of Lexa had started eliciting such a violent uptick in her heart's rhythm; the mere idea of being near her rocking Clarke with these sudden shots of adrenaline. 

She supposed it was probably somewhere between sneaking kisses in the studio's kiln room and exchanging dirty messages while they each, presumably, got themselves off.

Clarke hadn't had the courage to ask if she was the only one…

It really didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, not when the door swung open before she could even finish her third knock. Because framed in the picturesque doorway was - possibly, potentially, easily debatably once her brain would start working again - one of the most beautiful women Clarke had ever seen in her thirty-nine years of life. 

Just… not the particular one she'd expected. 

////////

Read on AO3

[supercap2319]

I was wonder if you could do an x male reader for Peter Hale. Where it’s Young Peter and Peter just realized male reader is his mate after catching his scent. And he just trips on his own face in the middle of the high school halls because that where Peter first caught their scent

Peter learned about mates from such a young age. His older sister, Talia, would tell him stories of what it would be like to have and mate, and when Peter would find his, he would know. He thought that Corinne might be his true mate. She was cute enough, but maybe it was more hormonal than true love.

He pushed his way through the hallways of Beacon Hills. Nothing bad or exciting ever happened here. Peter's family was the only pack in town. Of course, there were the Argents, specifically, Chris Argent, in almost every single one of Peter's classes. Peter knew that he would turn out to be just like the rest of his family. Hunters. Hunters of Peter's kind. Of werewolves.

Maybe Peter would go visit his sister after school and his two year old nephew, Derek. Catch a movie or go for a run in the woods. Whatever Peter's original plans were going to be were put to a stop as he inhaled something sweet and sharp. Almost like a cinnamon scent. Peter felt his inner wolf howl with delight as his eyes flashed gold for a second, and his claws and canines came out. What the hell was going on? Why was he shifting in the middle of the hallway....

Then Peter saw him: Y/N L/N.

Y/N was on the basketball team with Noah Stilinski. He was a golden boy. He was kind to all, and he was fucking burning Peter's nose with his scent. The smell of cinnamon was all over him, and Peter realized that this mortal boy was his mate. A male was his mate? Who would have guessed it?

Peter was so caught up in Y/N's smell that he accidentally tripped over his own two feet and came crashing to the floor in the middle of the hallway. Books, pens, papers, and Peter's Walkman of Nirvana went all across the floor. The sounds of laughter and ridicule were heavy on Peter's ears as the entire hallway saw his little slip up and started laughing and pointing at him.

The young werewolf would have gladly tore through everyone in school, especially, Argent, but the calming scent of his mate filled his nose, and Peter watched as Y/N kneeled down beside him and helped him pick up his stuff. "Shit, man. You okay?" Y/N asked once Peter was on his feet again.

Peter's head was still dizzy from his mate's scent, and it took everything Peter had not to take him right then and there in the hallway. He swallowed. "Yeah. Thanks, man. Guess I slipped on the floor wax." It was a lame excuse, but Y/N didn't seem to be interested in Peter's lies. He was looking at a cassette Peter's Walkman had dropped. "Dude, you like Pearl Jam and Metallica too? I love these guys."

Peter looked at him and smirked. "Me too. Maybe we should hang out sometime and listen to them?"

"Definitely." Y/N smiled.

The bell rang as Y/N looked at Peter. "Better get to class. Hope you're okay, Peter."

"Thanks for the help, Y/N." Peter smiled as the young man flashed him a smile and left as Peter finally found his mate.

[adiraargent]

Your pain is my pain - Mattheo Riddle

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader warnings: none, mentions of wizarding war ig wc: 475

In the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, the room felt suffocatingly silent, save for the occasional rustle of sheets as you shifted uncomfortably in bed. The weight of the nightmares pressed down upon you like a heavy blanket, suffusing the air with an almost palpable sense of dread.

You lay there, eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling as your mind churned with memories of horrors past. Night after night, the same visions plagued your dreams, dragging you back into the depths of despair with a relentless grip that refused to let go. Flashes back to the wizarding war and your last year of school. The war had ended a little over a year ago now and your nightmares had been coming back.

And yet, amidst the darkness, there was a flicker of light – a beacon of hope that shone brightly in the form of Mattheo Riddle, the cocky, slightly short-tempered Slytherin boy who had captured your heart in ways you never thought possible.

He had been your rock through it all, ever since you started dating in your fourth year. He was a constant source of strength and solace in a world gone mad. And as you lay there, grappling with the demons that haunted your every waking moment, you couldn't help but wonder why you hadn't confided in him sooner.

"Why didn't you tell me the nightmares are back?" His voice shattered the silence like a thunderclap, pulling you from the depths of your reverie. He tightened his grip around your waist, his presence a comforting warmth against the chill of the night.

You turned to face him, your heart heavy with guilt and regret. "I... I didn't want to burden you," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the room. "You have enough on your plate as it is."

Mattheo's expression softened, his eyes filled with a tenderness that took your breath away. "You know I never minded helping you with them," he said gently, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "Your pain is my pain, and your burdens are mine to bear."

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, a floodgate of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. How had you been so blind to the depth of his love, so oblivious to the fact that he would move heaven and earth to ease your suffering?

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I didn't mean to shut you out."

Mattheo pulled you into his arms then, holding you close as though afraid to let go. "You never have to apologize for being human," he murmured against your hair, his breath warm against your skin. "We'll face these nightmares together, just like we always have."

And in that moment, as you surrendered yourself to the safety of his embrace, you knew that no matter what horrors the night may bring, you would never have to face them alone. For in Mattheo Riddle, you had found a love that transcended even the darkest of dreams, a love that would light the way through even the bleakest of nights.

written by @adiraargent

please do not steal :)

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

SEBASTIAN SOLACE PLEASE I NEED TO BE FUCKED BY THAT MAN 🙏🏻

(I'm sorry if you need specifics aaah 😭 but FTM reader if you do that! Have a nice day!)

I did gender neutral/AFAB

Sebastian

-

Cw: double dicks, snake anatomy, overstim, slight edging and begging,

-

“Don’t think this is something I’ll do again in the future, at least not free.” Sebastian murmured, two of his eyes closed and one, the one hidden under his hair watched you out of the corner of his eye. “I’m just cold and everything else is metal or stone.”

You nodded, indifferent to his excuses, you gently felt his scales, tracing a bit below his stomach. Sebastian tensed a bit but didn’t stop you. He sat upright and tilted his head at you, his eyes now open, the ‘light’ he’s producing isn’t bright, almost like a nightlight, but still you’d have to squint to look at his eyes.

His scales were smooth and kind of nice to touch, almost…soothing. You ignored the weird look he gave you and traced small patterns on his abdomen. Eventually, half asleep, your hands drift closer to you, but you feel a bump in his scales. He gasped at the touch and you worried maybe he’d hurt himself there, then you felt your finger slip into…an opening?

You looked at where your hand was, there was…a vertical slit?

Sebastian jolted and leaned forward, moving your hand out of the way. “That’s not a place you want to touch!” He said with a whine in his voice. But you noticed…something begin peeking out of the spit. You paused, you’d had a few times interacting with snakes, enough to realize something you were taught in school.

Male snakes often have a bump, where there slit sheathes their cocks until they are needed.

You’d basically touched his dick…

“My bad.” You said looking up at him to see his cheeks were light purpleish, almost like he was blushing. “I uh…wasn’t meaning to touch there. Sorry.” You apologized, looking away, but before you could get up he gently grabs your arm.

“No no no, it’s…” Sebastian paused and looked away. “It felt good…I wouldn’t mind you touching there, I was just surprised and…I didn’t want to startle you with my…”

He gestured downwards and you see, both his cocks are peeking out. He looked back to you and mumbled something you didn’t hear. “Could you repeat that?” You ask.

With an aggravated huff. He reaches down rubbing himself, futher coaxing his cocks out. “Look, I’ll give you back the data I took and some free items if you…” He trailed off but you knew what he meant. With a glance down you can see his cocks twitch.

“Deal.” You say, data wasn’t as easy to obtain as you hoped, and supplies are worth giving a snake guy a handjob, right? Well, in this moment it felt that way…

Maybe it’s just you, wanting to get out of here, you look down, eyeing his cocks, one is noticbly smaller than the other, but a little thicker, while the other was longer and slightly thinner.

You take the smaller one in your hand, lightly thumbing the tip to test the waters, earning a deep moan. Sebastian leaned back, laying on his side to watch you, his eyes half lidded as you rub him, his hips twitch forwards and you feel something tighten around your waist.

“Fuck, like that…mind giving the other one a ‘hand’?” Sebastian said, blushing more and grinning. His hips buckled forwards, leaving the cock awaiting your attention to twitch and smack against his own stomach.

“Well…you don’t need me to stimulate it, right? You’ll cum if I rub only one, right?” You tease, earning a huff. He glared at you while trying to hide his blush.

“…I’ll give you a new flash beacon…” He grumbled out. You click your tongue with a grin.

“And apologize for breaking my old one.”

He hissed but cleared his throats. “I’m…sorry for breaking your flash beacon, now…please?” He said slightly annoyed his neglected cock drools as you look down to it.

“Good boy…” You take his hemipenises and strokes them in tandem, earning deep whines from the man, both cocks drooled enough to lube your hands, making movements easier.

Sebastian was blushing hard, whimpering at the praise as his tail smacks against the ground as he gets close. “L-like that….perfect….” He mumbled, trying to brush off the tremble in his voice as you thumb the tips.

It was enough, he peaked, whining as his climax hits him, he spurts his release onto his own stomach, you gently stroke him through his release. He collapses and pants hard. “F-fuck it’s been so long…stop stroking.” He squeaked out the last part.

You don’t, you keep stroking him as his cocks writhe under your touch.

Honestly it almost felt like milking a rowdy cow with…long utters.

Sebastian trembled and whined, his cocks leaking pathetically, hes humiliatingly sensitive from one release. You lean forwards and whisper.

“Maybe…I’ll let you rest if you return the favor…” You whisper into his…fin/ear? He trembles and tries to shove your hands away, but your grip tightens in respond, making him desperately whimper for relief.

“No, I’m already being generous eno-“ He yelps as you pinch the tip of his cock, his tail smacks against the ground hard. He whimpers and you see he wince. “D-dammit, ok-ok!”

He nods quickly, sighing in relief as you let go of his cocks, they look a little more swollen than you remember when they first emerged. They quickly retreat into the slit, as if scared you’ll change your mind.

You let him get a quick breather before continuing, Afterall you’re in no rush.

-

[elteccorp]

Pedestrian Crosswalk Beacon

Eltec is the top-most manufacturer of crosswalks. This provides hybrid pedestrian crosswalks, pedestrian crosswalks and many other crosswalks in a great safe way at fair prices. https://elteccorp.com/products/pedestrian-crossing-systems/hawk-hybrid-pedestrian-crosswalk/

[ao3sbatfamily]

Do you have fics where Bruce is the dad to a younger batfam and they’re not vigilantes??

'All I Have' by froot__loopity

He didn’t pick up the call, even as the beacon glared red and buzzed incessantly. He didn’t even look at it.

If there was a situation where he was seriously required at that very moment, his other parameters would have alerted him. While he was not the omniscient being counterparts, strangers, and foes alike saw him as, he had his sources that would tell him if the world was ending. By all of those accounts, it was not.

“Sorry,” Bruce flashed a wary smile at the school principal, and felt in his pocket for some way to silence the little device. He knew there wasn’t one, but the effort was what counted. “Just some very frustrating folks there who can’t handle simple problems themselves. Where were we?”

That was true, wasn’t it? Why was the Justice League calling on him when he had made it clear that unless a meteor was 0.4 seconds away from crashing into the Earth, he was completely unavailable for the next two weeks?

“I understand you’re a busy man, Mr. Wayne,”

Oh hell no. He had had enough of school administrators backing off and saving lectures for when he wasn’t around. It was time to brawl with the snob-demons, as Jay would put it. He allowed a bit of a threat to enter his gaze. “No, not at all. Those people frankly don’t deserve my attention. Now, we’re talking about Stephanie’s math struggles?”

[breaddwoo]

-Warm Light-

pairing: xavier x reader

word count: 2.73k

warnings: none :)

desc: when xavier sees your ability to glow, he gets a lil crush and y'all have a sleepover :))

a/n: my friends bully me because all i did today was write this 👊

had you been a normal child, life would have gone much differently. your emotions wouldn't get outed by your very skin; every boy you've liked wouldn't instantly understand through your illumination.

no matter how much you tried to control it, your flesh seemed to have its own conscience that made its own decisions.

your skin glowed. bright, radiant lemon or sometimes just a comforting, somewhat dim gold. this curse had embarrassed you more times than one should be mortified in a life time. a malediction passed on to you by a higher being with unknown intent.

so, there came a time when the bullying was too much. it was never violent, there were no harsh words spat in your direction. you tried your best to be nice to every classmate.

it was the isolation. a metaphorical twin of suffocation; you had no friends and never once held a romantic partner. no one wanted to get close to you, either wierded out by the power or didn't want to be associated with it.

in the end, nevermore was inevitable. no one paid any attention to you in the beginning of your enrollment; all eyes were on you, however, once you gleamed like a beacon during a school assembly after someone's hand brushed your ass.

that's how you met enid and ajax, and in turn, wednesday. you could tell she was perplexed by your ability just as the other two were, but she never gave into her curiosity. they made you happy.

you had some control when it came to your ability; you could "turn it on", as enid would say, whenever you wanted. you just couldn't flick the light switch off when you became a human light bulb.

but night time in dark hallways was the perfect place to practice, especially the halls of nevermore where moonlight was scarce and pitch blackness was abundant.

with a snap of your fingers, you'd illuminate the narrow corridor; another snap, and sometimes the light would go away. most of the time it just stayed on until you were randomly plunged into darkness.

as you continued this, you came upon a dead end. there was a large, looming figure in front of you but it was impossible decipher what it was.

with a snap, you tried to get a better look. nothing.

you snapped again and the blackness continued. by now your eyes had adjusted enough to understand that the figure was an antique statue; however, curiosity got the best of you and you needed the statue in full visibility.

to anyone wandering these shadowy halls at night, these random clicks may have made for a good horror story at a slumber party.

in frustration, you snapped your fingers a few times in attempt to get your skin to brighten when you heard a loud click.

then, low rumbling within the walls in front of you.

your body took this as the perfect opportunity to become a floodlight, revealing that the statue was now gone and a large set of stone stairs spiraled into mystery.

even this school is a goddamn oddity.

you sighed, knowing that this meant you'd have to go down the stairs or this scene would haunt you to your grave.

the first step you took was hesitant. no booby traps, no arrows flying into your chest. is this safe??

the decision had been made to enter, so with more confidence, you descended the twisting staircase.

you feared that your light would dissipate, but continued on until you saw a circular library holding old, dusty books.

"... hello?" you whispered. there was no one you expected to answer, but you were weary of the volume of your voice anyway.

"hello?" you asked again, this time with a bit of wavery confidence.

then, someone stepped out of a hallway to your left. someone tall, wearing a costume-like robe.

"jesus, can you please put that flash light away? you're blinding me," the figure complained, covering their eyes with a comically large sleeve.

you tried to dim the lights a bit. surprisingly, your skin successfully emitted a soft golden glow instead of the headlight it was before.

when you did this, you could make out that the figure was, in fact, a boy.

a very cute one.

"was- was that your body that scorched my eyes?" the boy asked with intrigue before backtracking, "wait, sorry, wrong question right now. who are you and how did you get in here?"

you laughed a strained laugh, wringing the hem of your skirt in your hands, "uhm, yeahhh. i was- i was just practicing my, uh, glowing and happened to somehow make a statue move? i don't know, i'm probably as confused as you are."

you were nervous, afraid that you had happened upon a cult that would cut you up for finding their secret lair.

the boy studied you for a second, then stepped forward. you could see the details of his face a little better when he did this. man he's cute.

the room may have been dark, but your light cast shadows on his face in all the right places. he was taller than you, and he may not have had a conventionally attractive face, but you were nevertheless starstruck.

he gave an awkward, but adorable, smile.

"this is the hideout for a secret society called the nightshades. there's really no point in hiding it since you already know about it, though you can't tell anyone you found this place, " he explained, running a hand through his shoulder length hair.

"oh, okay, then i definitely shouldn't be here. i'll get going."

you hurriedly began for the stairs; a small tug on your sleeve stopped you from going further.

"wait, wait," the boy protested, "can i get your name? just, y'know, for future reference."

you snorted, "what would you need my name for in the future?"

"many things," he grinned.

"also, i wanna see your... light?" he said for lack of a better term.

you dropped down from the step you currently stood on so you were once again on ground level with the boy.

"i'll show it to you in exchange for your name."

he crossed his arms, "but i asked you first."

"maybe, but im the bargainer here. deal or no deal, " you stated, stifling a laugh.

the boy placed his fingers on his chin to feign consideration, saying, "you give a tempting offer."

you raised your brows to ask so, deal or no deal?

he let a grin spread on his face, "fine. xavier thorpe, that's my name. can i see the light now?"

xavier. what a cute name for a cute boy.

you gave an obviously exaggerated sigh and tried to make your skin glow a little brighter. holding out your hand, you let him examine your abnormality that brought you to this school.

xavier's hazel eyes glittered with wonder as he ran his hands over your candlelight skin.

beginning to feel embarrassed, you pulled away with a faint blush painting your cheeks.

"anyway, i- i should go," you mumbled, feeling too bashful to stay there any longer; your skin may glow again as it did with every boy that piqued your interest and you'd had quite enough of that and the reaction the boys would give.

you could tell that xavier had more to ask, but he kept his queries to himself and allowed you to ascend the stairs.

"oh," you began, halfway up the stairs, "and my name is (y/n)."

when xavier heard the wall at the entrance of the stairs close above him, he wandered to the step you were standing on when he touched your warm, illuminated hand.

"(y/n).. " he whispered to himself, a small, innocent smile painted on his face that was hidden by the darkness.

> > >

after that day, you noticed xavier in the halls much more often. he was even in your third period class. how have i never noticed?

xavier would catch up to you on your way to different classes, talking about whatever came to mind. the company was new and unusual, but not unwelcome.

after a little while, you were able to call him your friend. your best friend, even.

it was friday, the weather outside was abysmal as rain streaks on the windows beside you cast odd shadows on your desk.

it was a quiet study hour instead of the usually rowdy third period debate class.

there was a small tap on your shoulder, so you turned around to feel the brunt of a small folded paper hit your forehead.

"ow..." you whispered to yourself, frowning at the offender. xavier presses his lips together to keep himself from laughing and pointed at the floor.

looking down, you found the little weapon sitting on your book bag.

you gave him a really? are we in middle school? look, but picked up and unfolded the tiny note anyway.

inside were crudely written words that said:

hangout at the paint shed tonight?

you couldn't help the smile that stole your expression, giving him a small thumbs up. the little invitation left you giddy; you could already feel your skin beginning to warm with a warning flare.

xavier retaliated with a gracious smile. god, he's so adorable.

now the school day was going to take forever.

> > >

"xavier, what is this?"

the art studio now looked like a girl's room after a slumber party. there was a thin foam mattress in the middle of the wooden floors, decorated with many plush pillows and knitted blankets. snacks covered almost every empty surface that wasn't occupied by art supplies. there were even fairy lights hung above the makeshift bed, giving the room a comfortable and inviting appearance.

xavier looked proudly at his work, "i just thought, since we rarely get to spend more than an hour together, that we could have a little- uh, sleepover."

looking at his embarrassed blush, you burst into a fit of giggles.

"i didn't know we were middle school besties. did you ask your mom?" you jested, covering your mouth to attempt to suppress the laughter.

xavier noticed your skin begin to emit it's usual glow that he adored, but he feigned frustration as he crossed his arms. the blush on his cheeks became a fiercer shade of scarlet.

"sorry, sorry. i know you worked hard on this, thank you," you grinned, wiping a tear caused by your outburst.

"so, what did you want to do first?"

the question left xavier quiet. there was a very specific activity he wanted to do, but he was afraid the very question would reveal his true feelings.

"do you- uh, do you remember the first time me met?" he questioned.

you nodded, "of course. how could i forget the night that i burned my image into your poor pupils."

"well..." he began, "ever since then, i've wanted to paint you. with that glow, it'd give me insane practice at lighting with acrylics." and you're insanely pretty and i want to watch you glow any time i wish.

he didn't add that last part, though.

the request forced the dim luminosity of your skin to radiate a brighter light.

just seeing you like this, xavier melted. ever since the first day he felt your light touch his skin, everything about you occupied every corner of his mind.

each time he walked with you in the hallway, each day you sat together drawing, he felt himself falling for you a little more.

tonight those feelings turned him into a tight envelope of emotion ready to burst, his wax seal already cracking.

you looked down, "okay then."

xavier could tell you were embarrassed but quickly grabbed his paints. tonight he would paint a masterpiece.

> > >

the whole process had been difficult, what with you laughing every time he made his concentration face and him playfully scolding you not to move.

"do you ever sit still?" he asked, almost finished.

"do you ever concentrate without biting the inside of your cheek?" you shot back.

he squinted his eyes, "touché."

you were about to giggle again, but restrained yourself to avoid more reprimanding.

finally, with the acrylic still drying, he was done. "do you want to see it?"

you breathed out, "i don't know. i'm scared."

xavier put a hand on his chest to feign offense, "and why would you be scared?"

"uhm, cuz- because i'll see myself through your eyes."

the room went silent; you could even hear one of the shed's lightbulbs go out.

"what does that mean?" he questioned, putting down his brushes. you shook your head to avoid the topic, dismissing him, "nevermind. forget it, i don't even know what i'm saying."

he pushed on, "no, seriously. do you think i see you in a bad way?"

"no- it's more like i'm afraid you won't see me in the way i most want you to."

xavier knew exactly what that meant. considering the way you brightened the room every time he was in it, he guessed that maybe you felt the same; but here was some (hopefully) solid proof. this was it: the opening he needed.

he lifted from his stool, walking over to you and guiding you to the flimsy bed he had put together.

when you both were laying down, he turned on his side to look and you and you reciprocated.

"(y/n), you- god, how do you not see? i feel like im pretty obvious, even if i don't physically glow every time i see you," xavier began, moving to prop his head on his hand with his elbow using a pillow as support.

"well i'm sorry! if i could control this damn ability i probably wouldn't even be here," you said defensively.

he back tracked, remembering he can be a bit rude at times, "no that's not what i meant, sorry. what i mean to say is that i look at you as if you hang the stars in the sky. when we're together i can't rid myself of a stupid grin that plagues me even after we've parted, and though i enjoy it, it sure makes my cheeks hurt. "

you laughed at the last comment and he felt warmth in his stomach. "well, i literally glow when i see you so i think i win."

"i didn't know this was a contest of affection," he teased, moving a bit closer.

"it's not, but i want a prize anyway."

both if you knew what you were suggesting, xavier just needed to take the initiative to do it.

he leaned over you, your back pressed to the soft foam beneath.

the moment his lips touched yours, a bright white light exploded in the room.

he pulled back, an uncomfortable tingling sensation rising to his face.

"did you just...?"

"oh my goodness," you gasped, reaching for his now sun burnt face.

"i-i'm so sorry! i didn't know i could do that!" you were mortified. you've ruined everything. you burned the first boy you've ever kissed.

then came a chuckle, along with full blown laughter. xavier rested his face in your neck as he continued to laugh.

"i can't believe the first time we kiss i get sun burned! that's so adorable!"

the word adorable wasn't how you would describe it, but you smiled and went along with his positive reaction.

"god, I'm so in love with you, " he blurted out of pure affection.

another snap of light almost caused xavier's eyes to dry out of his head, but you luckily covered his face just in time.

"please xavier, " you stated, your whole body a beacon of light that lit up the room, "no more of that. i'm literally going to cook you alive."

xavier laughed. he was fine with that, as long as you and your warm light were his.

> > >

-extra-

the both of you lay on the bed, sprawled across each other.

"i want to give you a pet name," xavier stated matter-of-factly.

"you can do that if you enjoy a 24/7 sun burn, " you laughed.

"hmm... " he stared at the ceiling, deep in thought, "i've got it!"

"and?"

"my little glow stick."

you gave a horrified expression, "xavier no, do not call me that."

"aww cute little glow stick," he teased.

"bro stop."

you spent the rest of the night smothering xavier with a pillow.

[bestworstcase]

Thanks for your response ala Ruby & Yang, great stuff!

Idle aside, but do you have any thoughts on Yang's role as the sort of black sheep of the family by dint of Raven associations?

Cos like, Tai overtly favors Ruby, projects Raven onto Yang, resents Raven being rough up and is bad enough about reminders of her Yang feels she has to apologize for his negative reactions. Let alone his... Everything else.

Then there's Qrow who doesn't seem to interact with Yang over much at all and one of if not their most major interaction. Involves him straight up saying he thinks she's either a liar hurting people for fun or "crazy".

I recall someone I was chatting with wondering: Imagine doing everything you can to keep your family from breaking apart & being compared to the woman who left you when you were a baby?

Cos I do wonder how Yang feels about all that given she seems to downplay and or try to work around her family's issues when she can. Let alone what it says about the adults in the room.

smth i think about a lot is the way yang’s narrative about her childhood shifts between v2 to v5

’cause in v2 it’s: “it was tough. ruby was really torn up, my dad kind of shut down. it wasn’t long before i learned why…” all to provide context for this anecdote about putting ruby in a wagon and running away to find her mother. and then her conclusion is “my stubbornness should have gotten us killed that night.”

and while there is a degree here of yang framing the story to emphasize the point she wants blake to understand, it’s also very obvious in her delivery that the emotional reality of this memory for yang is “the time my stupidity and stubbornness almost got me and ruby eaten by grimm”—when she was [checks notes] like five, six years old, and regularly left at home unsupervised.

but in v5, it’s: “my mom left me. ruby’s mom left too. tai was always busy with school, and ruby couldn’t even talk yet; i had to pick up the pieces. i had to pick up the pieces. alone.”

aside from the telling slip (tai, not dad)—yang centers her own feelings and the harm this situation did to her this time. which is something she’s always felt but i don’t think she could have brought herself to say it out loud to anyone during the beacon arc, because it was pressed down under the guilt on display in burning the candle, the feeling of having been inadequate and too stubborn and too selfish and and and–

coughs quietly. “my stubbornness should have gotten us killed that night.” / “you were predictable. and… stubborn. and maybe a little boneheaded.” yang’s narrative about the wagon incident—which happened when she was five or six!—pinning the blame on the thing tai imagines to be her fatal flaw is…probably not coincidental. yang in v4 after a year of being loved by her team and supported by mentors like glynda / oobleck / port has the perspective to know that tai doesn’t know what he’s talking about; but as a small child who’d just had a terrifying near-death experience with her baby sister… 😶

it definitely had a big impact on the way yang sees herself

BUT i do read qrow's talk with yang in 3.8 pretty differently ->

because the context is: yang saw mercury attack her and struck back in self defense, then had like a dozen synthetic soldiers point guns in her face, then looked up and saw the replay footage of herself walking over to shoot a boy who was just kneeling on the ground. and some of the most powerful authority figures in the world are pushing this narrative that stress and adrenaline "clouded her judgment."

like this would make anyone doubt their sanity. bc holy shit.

yang, though...a couple weeks ago, yang after being knocked unconscious woke up and blearily saw someone she thought was her mother walk away from her and disappear in a flash of red light. she hasn't mentioned it to anyone, because it's just so bizarre—yang doesn't know about raven's semblance yet—she must have just been seeing things. right?

aside from raven (who isn't here) and yang (who believes she hallucinated), the only other person who knows that yang saw her mom on the train is qrow, because raven told him about it. he also knows that:

tai insisted on not telling yang ANYTHING about her mother, and qrow respected that up until now; so yang doesn't know about raven's semblance and can't make sense of what she saw.

salem's infiltrators are the same people who attacked amber, and qrow didn't get a good look at them because they seemingly vanished into thin air—pretty damn good chance that one of them has a semblance that manipulates what you see.

ozpin wants #2 kept secret, so yang has some very powerful people actively trying to convince her that she's crazy. ironwood is straight up gaslighting her.

qrow also—based on the first thing he says, which is "why'd you do it?"—seems to consider it a possibility that it is what it looked like but yang did have a good reason, and i actually do not think that is an outrageous thing for qrow specifically to think. because qrow was emotionally abused as a child, and he knows yang, and in the event that yang really did suddenly turn around and punch a guy who was kneeling on the ground, why would she do it?

glances at shay d. mann. well. maybe this kid has been harassing her? maybe he said something horrible or threatening to her and in the heat of the moment she just snapped? maybe "he attacked me, i saw him attack me" isn't really a lie per se, she's just scared that "he's been picking on me ever since he got here and he made a disgusting remark and i just couldn't take it anymore" won't be taken seriously? as in, he did attack her—verbally/emotionally.

it's probably worth asking, at least!

so, qrow leads with "why'd you do it?" in case there is some invisible reason justifying the apparent action. yang says "you know why." qrow goes okay, well, i only know what i saw, so you're either lying (i.e., yang had a reason she now isn't telling) or crazy (i.e., yang saw something different from reality that was very real to her).

she says "i'm not lying." qrow believes her: "crazy, got it."

at this point, he knows the most probable explanation is that one of salem's infiltrators fucked with her head. the inner circle's gaslighting doesn't sit right with him; he's not going to buck ozpin by telling her the truth outright, but he wants to make sure yang knows she isn't losing her mind. he also has all the info needed to guess that yang is actually really really scared that she might be crazy.

which is why he kicks off the wall and begins to pace around. the language he uses sounds dismissive, but his tone is mild and his body language implies "let's talk about it, let's figure this out."

leading to:

YANG: Who knows? Maybe I am. QROW: And here I thought your dark-haired friend was the emo one. YANG: I saw my mom. …I- I was in a lot of trouble, took a pretty hard hit. But when I came to, the person attacking me was gone, and I thought I saw… her. Her sword. Like the one in you and dad’s old picture. QROW: You’re not crazy, Yang. That was your mom, alright. Let me guess—she didn’t say a word, did she? YANG: How did you know that? QROW: I don't see my sister very often, but she does try to keep in touch... whenever it suits her. YANG: Wait—you mean you talk to her? That was real!? QROW: Yeah, she found me. Had a tip from my most recent assignment and wanted me to give you a message.

it's really telling that yang responds to him this way. 'cause we've seen how yang acts when she feels dismissed or belittled:

TAI: Well, "normal" is what you make of it. YANG: What is that supposed to mean? Do you want me to just pretend like nothing happened? I lost a part of me. A piece of me is gone. And it's never coming back. TAI: You're right. It's not coming back. But that doesn't have to stop you from becoming who you wanna be. You're Yang Xiao Long, my sunny little dragon. You can do whatever you put your mind to. So whenever you're ready to stop moping, and get back out there? I'll be there for you. YANG: I– I...

she freezes and shuts down! her teachers have to come to her rescue!—but when qrow goes "crazy, got it" and suggests she's being "emo," yang blurts out her big secret. i saw my mom. to me that suggests a level of trust and understanding that isn't there with tai: qrow says stuff like "okay, so you're crazy" and "here i thought your friend was the emo one" but what he means is "hey, i know something's really bugging you, tell me about it," and yang picks up what he's putting down.

it's akin to how ruby goes "did you miss me? DID YOU MISS ME??" and qrow's like "nope" and they both laugh. or the back-and-forth ribbing between him and the girls in 3.4. there's this layer of mild ironic meanness in the way qrow converses with his nieces that all of them are fluent in, and in this scene he's using that mode to signal that "crazy" is not off-limits, that it's okay to talk about openly.

crucially, there's a code-switch in the middle of the conversation: as soon as yang gets real and says "i saw my mom," qrow reflects that seriousness back to her. you're not crazy, that was your mom, she found me afterward and told me about it. it was real. you're okay. qrow's ability to do that—to shift into a more serious mode when irony isn't appropriate—is why yang can have this rapport with him that she doesn't have with tai, because tai isn't... being ironic when he says mean or dismissive things to her.

anyway, qrow passes on raven's terrible message and then kind of annotates it: "raven's got an interesting way of looking at the world that i don't particularly agree with, and she's dangerous." (which is a very diplomatic way of saying he thinks raven is full of shit. lol.) but then he connects this whole conversation about raven back to what happened after the match: "you're a tough egg, kiddo. don't let this tournament thing getcha down. you had a slip-up; sometimes bad things just happen."

implicitly: yang isn't crazy. what she saw on the train was real, a product of raven's personality and her semblance. sometimes bad things just happen. qrow believes that yang had the experience she says she did when she punched mercury. he doesn't know why she had that experience—yang doesn't either!—but he knows she isn't just "crazy." sometimes things that seem crazy are actually real.

remember what he tells the girls in 3.4? "you may be acting like huntresses, but you're not thinking like one." same thing here. he's telling yang, hey, you're not crazy, you know what you saw, but you don't know what or who caused you to see it. "you cut off the head of the king taijitu, but now the second head's calling the shots."

hint, hint.

it's subtler than the hints qrow drops for ruby in 3.12, but very much in the same vein, and yang is plenty smart enough to figure it out. she might... not have? in the couple of hours between this conversation and everything going to straight to hell, but if they'd had literally just one more day, just long enough for the wheels turning in yang's head to click together with what ruby heard from velvet about coco hallucinating during her and yatsu's 2v2 against emerald and mercury, she would've had it.

more... generally, i've never gotten the sense that qrow projects raven's flaws onto yang in the way that tai does; qrow is definitely a lot closer with ruby than yang, but i think that has less to do with favoritism on qrow's part than it does ruby thinking he's like the COOLEST uncle ever and wanting to use a scythe like he does.

'cause like, qrow isn't their parent, he doesn't live with them, he's not responsible for raising these kids like their dad is, so while he obviously did contribute to fucking them both up because: alcoholic, ultimately there just isn't the same degree of betrayal or emotional abandonment; he's not their dad. both times yang talks in detail about her childhood, it's "my mom left, ruby's mom left, tai wasn't really around, ruby couldn't even talk, i was alone"—she doesn't mention qrow. there isn't that deep hurt, that feeling that qrow is someone who left.

when he isn't drunk, yang seems to feel pretty okay around him, and qrow likewise treats her... honestly a lot better than tai does:

he stops by their dorm in v3 to hang out with both his nieces; yang is fully in sister mode—cheers for ruby to beat him until ruby loses, immediately shoves her out of the way like "my turn!! >:D"—and qrow ribs them both, takes ribbing from both of them in good humor, tells both of them "you two are gonna go far."

qrow nicknames to show affection; ruby is "pipsqueak," yang gets "firecracker."

we only see qrow's goodbye to ruby, but in 5.4 yang indicates that qrow came to talk to her before he left, too. she also has complete trust that he's keeping the promise he made to look after ruby.

yang, as noted, opens up to him about seeing her mom; she's also shocked that he's still in contact with raven and indignant that he didn't tell her sooner, but—unlike with tai—she doesn't seem surprised that qrow is willing to talk about raven in general.

which tracks with what tai says in 4.11: "despite asking him numerous times not to, i know qrow told you where you're mother's been at these days"—meaning, this was a point of contention between him and qrow. behind the scenes, while tai refused to discuss raven at all, qrow was going okay well, let me tell her then, she deserves to know. and then ultimately he just bit the bullet and told her behind tai's back. i wouldn't be surprised if it turned out qrow had been straight with yang that her dad wanted to be the one to tell her the important stuff, and he wanted to be respectful of that, but raven wasn't an off-limits topic.

general contrast between yang-tai and yang-qrow dynamics; for example both of them say almost verbatim "you've got a long way to go before you're ready for the real world" (3.4/4.4). from tai it's belittling, he's insulting her; from qrow, it's meant to encourage, it's "remember you're still new to this, you'll make mistakes, just keep learning, keep trying." (rwby does stuff like this all the time, refracting an idea in different directions to highlight contrasts between characters; ozpin's advice to ruby vs port's advice to weiss is another example.)

a lot of qrow's resentment toward raven is centered on her abandonment of yang: "did you know yang lost her arm? [...] rhetorical question, i know you know. it's just obnoxious that you'd bring up family and then carry on like your own daughter doesn't exist. [raven: "i saved her."] once. because that was your rule, right? real mom of the year material, sis." like he is PISSED on yang's behalf that raven won't even try.

my impression is that qrow—although a) often away on long missions in far away places and b) an alcoholic who sometimes got blind drunk and became a burden yang and ruby needed to take care of—when he did manage to be there, made a serious effort to connect with both of them. he ended up being closer to ruby bc she wanted to learn scythe-wielding, but i do think qrow would've trained yang too (or instead) if the girls had different combat interests.

and while his relationship with ruby has a mentorish aspect, i don't get the sense either of the girls see him as a parental figure: he wasn't part of their household, he traveled a lot, his alcoholism in combination with tai's neglect eroded the adult-child boundaries because they had to be responsible for him as often as the reverse. he's a friend who also happens to be related to them. and that's especially true for yang, because he wasn't her teacher.

(i know it's a... pretty common headcanon / fanon that qrow lived with them, but i really don't think that's supported by the text? whenever ruby or yang look back on their childhoods, the family unit is always them + tai, and qrow isolates himself out of fear that his semblance will injure those he cares about. plus ozpin sending him all over the place as the one member of team strq still active. it makes way more sense to think he lived alone, and visited when he had the chance. which is the main reason i'm WAY softer on him than on tai, 'cause qrow wasn't in a caretaker/parent role; at most he was an occasional babysitter. so while his incidents of turning up drunk on the doorstep contributed to the harm... it's like, it would absolutely have been better for them if qrow were sober, but that wouldn't have changed anything about their home life. they'd just have somewhat easier relationships with qrow.)

TO WRAP THIS BACK AROUND TO THE QUESTION, tai is unfairly judgmental and harsh with yang bc he projects his idea of her mom onto her; yang also has a better relationship with her mom's brother than she does with her dad. how do these two dynamics interact? how does yang feel about hearing from tai that she's too branwen, so to speak, while also getting along better with the branwen side of her family? how might that fuel her desire to find raven?

if her uncle treats her better than tai does, then... maybe her mom would too, if only yang could reach her?—obviously it's not rational, but like. i don't think five year old yang put her baby sister in a wagon and ran away to find her mom because she thought she would ask "why did you leave me?" and then get her answer and go home. as yang grew older and developed a more realistic perspective it shifted to "i just need to know why she left" and she projects that backward onto herself as a child, but at the time what she wanted, what she was looking for, was someone who would take care of them.

[casparscunttt16]

"You're jealous" |Stiles Stilinski|Oneshot

Jealous!Stiles x Reader.

Summary: In which your friend Javier is tutoring you for an upcoming quiz in your Spanish class leading you to be spending more time with him rather than your boyfriend Stiles.

Warnings: Jealous Stiles, slight arguing.

(Gif not mine)

I walk through the busy hallways of Beacon Hills High, rushing to my locker hoping I can be quick enough to not get caught in a group of students. I make it to my locker and put away my books and binders, then heading down the hallway towards the cafeteria. "Hey wait up!" I hear a familiar voice and I turn to see my friend Javier. "Oh hi Javi" I smile at the messy haired boy, and pull him into a hug.

"Hey do you wanna start studying now? We can definitely do so in the cafeteria if you're okay with that" he chirped with a toothy grin. "Of course whatever works for you works for me" I respond as we walk down the hallway side by side. "Thanks for tutoring me by the way I really appreciate" I add on. "The least I can do for you helping me snag a date with Danny" he chuckles. "Sooo how's that going?" I drag out.

Javier tells me how it's going with him and Danny and I smile listening to the details of how the date went, how things are between them, if they'll be anymore dates in the future etc. We walk into the cafeteria and sit at a table, Javier places his bag on the table and takes out his laptop, flash cards, highlighters and other things for studying. About 10 minutes into the study session my boyfriend walks over to the two of us.

"Hey baby" he coos hugging me from behind and resting his head on mine. "Hi babe" I say turning around and kissing his lips. "Did you wanna go out to lunch with me and Scott?" he asks casually because on most days thats what we did. "No I can't I'm studying with Javier, maybe after school we can hangout?" I suggest raising an eyebrow. "No yeah that's fine" He smiles and kisses my forehead then walking off to Scott.

"Well isn't he cute" Javier compliments "How long have you two been a thing?" he asks as he picks up the flash cards. "He's very cute, but almost two years. A year and nine months next month" Javier smiles at my answer then parts his lips to speak. "Okay let's get started on fill in the blank, I think that'd be easiest".

Throughout the remainder of the week I was hanging out with Javier in and out of school to prepare for this Spanish quiz, it'll be about 70 percent of our grade because it's about everything we've learned this quarter so this was not something I wanted to take lightly y'know? Today was Thursday and the quiz was on Friday. It was the end of the school day and Javier walked me out to the parking lot. "You're going to do great, girl don't even stress" Javier reassures me then pulling me into a tight hug. "Thanks Javi, but you're literally crushing me" I squirm as he laughs. "Sorry" He smiles before we part ways.

I see Stiles in the distance standing by his jeep as he always did to take me home. I walk over to him eagerly. "Hi Stiles" I kiss his cheek and he looks down at me and rolls his eyes. "What? Did I do something" I ask confused. "Why don't you go kiss Javier since you seem to love his company" he says jealousy dripping off his tongue as he pouts slightly. "Stiles you do know he's been tutoring me right?" I scoff in a bit of irritation as I get in the passenger seat and buckles myself in. "Yeah but it's so painfully obvious he's into you and you're oblivious to it" he says through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as we pull out of the parking lot and begin driving on the main road. "Stiles he is not into me." I respond in a flat tone, the car fills with silence between us for a few minutes, the radio in the background quietly. "You're jealous" I state in a firm yet questioning tone.

Part 2?

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Hair

Written for @hinnymicrofic November 2023 - Prompt 10

School year 96/97, told through the medium of Hair

He first noticed Ginny’s hair in October, at Quidditch practice. Well, not so much noticed, because of course he had noticed before that she had hair in a general sense. She obviously wasn’t bald, was she? No, it was more like he paid particular attention to her hair, specifically. It happened when she dived sharply for a loose quaffle, twisting as she went, and whatever she’d used to clip it up to her head came loose. Suddenly, her hair was tumbling behind her, first as she hurtled towards the grass, then as she soared upwards, aiming for the hoops. It caught the late afternoon sun, and almost seemed to glow, like flames streaking through the air behind her. Ron saved her shot (with his face. Classic.), and as she pulled up in front of him, face alight with laughter, her hair fell forward, like a cloud around her shoulders. Harry decided the odd feeling in his stomach was hunger - must be time to head back up for dinner.

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Ginny was grateful to Dean, checking over her Charms essay, really she was, but honestly, it was a bit dull, just sat there in the common room, waiting. Her gaze fell idly on the table in the corner, where Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting, deep in conversation. Harry had his back to her, and, for want of anything better to do, she traced the line of his hair with her eyes, where it fell, curling just slightly towards his collar. She imagined running her finger there, feeling where his hairline met the pale skin of his neck, and she shivered slightly. 

“It’s pretty good, Ginny. You just need to add a bit more about the Substantive charm’s practical uses and then I think you’ve covered everything.”

Ginny jumped at the sound of Dean’s voice, suddenly feeling very guilty about the direction of her thoughts, and more than a little surprised. I mean, where the fuck did that even come from?

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The Slug Club Christmas party was every bit as appalling as Harry had feared. Luna’s company helped to make it just about bearable, as did the amusing spectacle of Hermione attempting to avoid McLaggan. The biggest problem was that no matter how many utterly terrifying/incredibly dull/undoubtedly influential (delete as applicable) people Slughorn seemed determined to introduce him to, Harry found his attention constantly drawn to the flashes of long, red hair from across the room, everytime it caught the candlelight. It was impossible to miss, a beacon that always drew his gaze. But as always, Ginny remained just out of his reach.

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At breakfast, before the Hufflepuff match, Ginny watched Harry carefully. Sure enough, she quickly picked up the signs that he was stressed. Losing Katie was bad enough, but Ron’s (ahem) mishap and Cormac’s subsequent recruitment was significantly more concerning. It seemed like every few seconds, he’d run his fingers through his hair. Long, slender, strong fingers, oddly delicate despite the callouses from his wand and the handle of his firebolt, though why her stupid brain insisted on noticing that, she had no idea. Well okay, maybe she had a bit of an idea. But anyway, the constant agitation made his hair stick up in spiky black tufts, even more unruly than usual - which was really saying something, wasn’t it? 

Maybe it would be neater if he cut it shorter? she thought - but he wouldn’t like that, would he? Because if it was shorter, it wouldn’t flop down over his forehead, covering his scar. And, now she came to think about it, she wouldn’t like it either. There was something strangely hot about he always looked so dishevelled, like he had perennially just got out of bed. She wondered, not for the first time, whether it was as soft as it appeared? She imagined running her own fingers through it, the feeling of it against the delicate skin between her fingers and… oh crap, she didn’t just sigh out loud, did she?

“Everything okay, Ginny?” enquired Hermione, her tone solicitous, but her expression irritatingly knowing. “You look a bit… flushed.” 

“Yes, fine,” she answered, smoothly, returning Hermione’s arched eyebrow with one of her own. “Just a bit warm in here, isn’t it?”

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By the time Harry arrived at The Burrow at Easter, he knew he was in real trouble. Being in such close proximity to Ginny was… problematic. Everything about her was just so bloody attractive, and it did things to him. Case in point: when Hermione was finally persuaded to make up the numbers for two-aside Quidditch. Harry honestly didn’t expect this to be an issue - after all, he’d played Quidditch with Ginny countless times, and okay it was often a bit distracting, but this was something else. Obviously, her lips didn’t help, pink and slightly parted as she concentrated on stealing the quaffle from under his nose, but the main difference was the way she was dressed, in the unseasonably warm weather. Those  unnecessarily short shorts, and the way her t-shirt stretched over her chest… well, anyway. He needed something else to focus on, and fast. Ron! Yes, genius. Thinking of Ron, instant mood killer. Ron with his ginger hair. It was the exact same shade as Ginny’s ginger hair, wasn’t it? Ron’s ginger hair, which was cut short, and not at all like Ginny’s which was long and thick and shiny, and currently braided into a thick plait, hanging down her back towards… Oh Merlin! This isn’t helping AT ALL! 

“Harry! Look out!”

Unfortunately, Hermione’s warning came way too late, but at least sorting out the minor cuts and bruises from his collision with the tree branch and subsequent tumble to the ground gave him something else to think about. 

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The moment they stepped through the portrait hole, Harry pressed her against the wall, his mouth on hers. With only a moment of hesitation, Ginny allowed her hands to slip up his back, feeling his shoulders tense at her touch, before sliding them through his hair. 

Yeah, I was right, she thought to herself, it really is as soft as it looks.

After that, she really didn’t do much in the way of thinking at all.