#shes one of the best things to ever exist on this planet

[locallesbianinyourarea]

CYANA ART!!!!! this was the first ever time i EVER drew her and i think she looks great! we <3 cyana in this household

[inupibaldspot]

Wingman ain’t subtle.

Paring: Gojo Satoru x reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : This takes place when Gojo and the rest are students and you are one year senior/older than them

Gojo thinks today is a bad day.

“y/n-senpai apparently only dates guys older than her” Shoko says she sucks the drink from the straw. As much as she’d like to be smoking, it wasn’t allowed on campus.

The lollipop in Gojo’s mouth falls to the ground which makes Geto snort.

“Sucks to you Satoru.” He comments. “If only you were born a year or two before you’d have a chance.”

Gojo winches as he looks over to Shoko with eyes pleading that she was lying “For real?”

“Yeah.” Shoko and you shared being gifted with Reverse Cursed Technique so they’d spend a lot of time training together so the two were close.

Ever since he learned that fact, Gojo had Shoko be his wing man on learning to be and also learn about your type. She was hesitant at fist but oh boy! Gojo was so hopelessly in love with you she kinda felt bad. Shoko adds. “She thinks older guy make her feel protected.”

Gojo huffs, his stomach churns with jealousy. “I’m literally the strongest…” who else would you need to feel protected?

To add on the fact that learning about him having no chance with you because of the year he was born — ‘Satoru was spawn killed.’ Geto would add— he and his classmates had forgotten to put up a veil during a mission which triggered Yaga’s, their teacher in charge, wrath.

Yaga takes in a deep breath“How many times do I have to tell you to put up a veil ?!”

Gojo really couldn’t careless as his teacher yaps away and probably neither did both of his two friends. He could see Geto nod at times as if acting like he was taking Yaga’s word to heart and with Shoko dozing off with her eyes open.

He does his best to fight back a yawn as something suddenly grabs his attention. You. His eyes trail to you ,who was a year senior to him, walking along the hallway, revealed by the long strip of windows between the classroom and hall. Gojo thinks you’re the loveliest piece of existence in the planet as you gently tug a piece of hair behind as you talk with Utahime.

Feeling a piercing gaze — or maybe it was Yaga’s shouts— you look over inside the class as meet your eyes with beautiful vibrant blue ones of your junior, Gojo Satoru’s.

When you give him a smile and a small wave, you weren’t expecting him to straight up beam at your direction and full on wave as if a kid would wave at an airplane passing by.

Of course this angered Yaga further as a nerve pops on his forehead and hands clenched. “Pay attention, Satoru!” He swings his fist at the boy.

The impact of his teacher’s fist on him sends him flying. If he weren’t such a good student he would have actually used his limitless to block such hits but alas— it may not look like it but he was. “Sensei—! Hitting your students should be against the law.”

He sees Geto sent him an amused smirk and Shoko,who finally woke up, trying to figure out what was happening and to his horror, you were giggling at him. Not many things can make Gojo feel embarrassed but his crush laughing at him when he got hit was one of it.

Yup-! That’s exactly what he needed; his crushing laughing as he gets beat up and lectured by his teacher. His day was going fan-tas-tic!

The day goes on with with the remaining classes. Evening classes were usually training so Shoko was in infirmary with Gojo and Geto on the training grounds but one thing bother Gojo was that the ‘hit’ from Yaga earlier did leave an impact. The back of his head a aching and even made him jump when Geto applied the slightest bit of pressure.

Call him dramatic but he didn’t want the ache to go on further so there he was on his way to the infirmary. He really needed Shoko to patch him up.

He slides the door open as he starts to complain. “Shoko heal me up. Yaga’s hit really did some damage on me”

“You’re hurt?”

Hearing a voice which wasn’t Shoko’s and with almost a magic like ability to make his heart race grabbed his attention. He turns to see you who was near the storage cabinet as if you were arranging something.

“I- uhh…” Suddenly his throat constricted and he couldn’t speak. His face heats up as you tilt your head waiting for an answer as he clears his throat. “Just a bit, y/n.”

“Shoko is out though. She got called to assist in a mission. ” You smile as you sit on a near by chair, pulling another chair beside.

You smile at him as you pat the chair beside yours indicating him to sit down there which makes him tense up slightly but he does as told. “Also you should be calling me ‘senpai’. Utahime-senpai was complaining that youth these days have no manner.”

You laugh. “Now tell me where you’re hurt.”

He sits beside you as he tilts his head and points at his sore spot. “Here.”

Gojo watches you raise your hand and inspect his heat, the places where your fingers grazes heats up which makes him gulp deeply. You laugh as you see a swelling on his head. “Wow- Sensei really did hit you hard…”

The white haired boy relaxes as he he feels the calming sensation on his head which means you were using your technique of healing him. “Does age really matter that much?”

You hum as if thinking through your answer. “Of course. Even a year older means you’ve been in this world for a year longer. That in itself is commendable enough.”

“I heard from Shoko that you like guys older…” Gojo says no longer trying to contain the jealousy in his voice. “Is it because of the same reason?”

Gojo watches your eyes widen and blink in confusion; he thinks any expression you make is so so adorable. You then proceed to giggle. “Just because I dated people who are older than me doesn’t mean I have a type.”

Damn that Shoko probably messed around with her wording. Gojo curses as the girl made it seem you would only date guys older than her.

“For example…” You hum as you bring your finger up to your lips. “Right now I like a guy who is younger than me who never respects his elder.”

Hearing her words, every restrain in his body breaks free and Gojo stands up from his seat ; before he knows it his lips are on yours. He hold your face in place, cupping both side of his cheeks.

Gojo kisses you. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

He brings one of his hands to the back of your head, as he runs his hands through your hair. His lips keep moving as if he had lost his mind; deep and urgent as if he couldn’t waste a single second.

Out of breath, he pulls away and looks at you who was breathing heavily and lips slightly plump from his desperate tugs and bites. He watches the same lips curl into a smile as you give him a teasing smile. “Also tell Shoko to quit being your wing man,Satoru. She isn’t quite subtle about it.”

Check out more of my work here !! <3

[lxvvie]

On today's episode of 'Simps 'R Us', Call of Duty: Medic. How is your fave as a patient when you have to take care of them when they're sick/injured?

Capt. John Price - Probably the grumpiest patient ever; doesn't really know what to do with himself while he's recuperating. Also can't smoke so that contributes to the grumpiness. The boys will poke fun at him (read: Gaz and Soap) and Price threatens to make them do wall sits when he gets better. The plus side is that you're there to keep him company.

Gaz - Is somewhere in the middle between grumpy and the best patient ever, depending. Luckily, he has an abundance of entertainment in you and whatever movie or puzzle you have for him.

Alex Keller - Is actually quite agreeable as a patient where you're concerned. When he's sick, Alex is the one who has Vick's vapor rub slathered under his nose, on his chest, on his feet (with socks on, too), and he's under as many blankets as possible. Even though he hates being hot, he's prepared to sweat that motherfucker out because he'll be damned if he leaves you hanging, Boss. ❤️

Soap - Golden Retriever as fuck. This is the man who can clear a fucking building, y'all. Soap is the one who's absolutely heartbroken and mopes in bed for all the wrong reasons. How could you do this to him? How could you leave him when he's at his lowest? How could you—"Johnny, I'm in the other room."

Ghost - What is man but a miserable pile of Ghosts? Simon is agreeable because he's knocked the fuck out asleep 80% of the time. He's also under a lot of blankets. Like... a lot. So much so that you'd be forgiven for thinking that it's just a pile on the bed and not him. The only way you can tell is the tuft of hair sticking out from under the covers. Also has a tendency to sleep curled up somewhat. He feels... safe.

Roach - Is absolutely, 💯 the best patient ever. You hardly have to ever worry about him. For the most part.

Keegan - Keegan is just... there. Existing. And feel just like he looks right now: sorry and like shit. He's right there in the middle, surprisingly; he really only calms down and accepts the help because you sweet talk him into doing so.

Alejandro - Is the one who has to warm up to being a patient because if he had it his way, he'd work from bed. Good thing he doesn't and you and Rudy are there to keep his ass in bed and AWAY from the desk. He winds up loving it, though, because it means he gets to flirt with you endlessly.

Rudy - The perfect patient. In fact, he's the one who'd have a list of home remedies passed down in his family so Rudy's always prepared if something were to happen.

König - His nervous energy won't keep him down for long and, surprisingly, König hates being tended to. Doesn't like the implied helplessness that comes with it. He'll relent somewhat after you've lectured him but there are some trying moments.

Horangi - Probably the absolute worst because he won't stay down for anything. Horangi likes to move around because it helps him to not concentrate on the pain. You'd have to literally proposition him or something like that to make him stay in one place lmao.

Graves - The most complaining motherfucker on the planet. Doesn't like this shit at all. He'd have a change of heart if you were butt naked while taking care of him, darlin'.

Valeria - The one who's busy being pampered while plotting revenge on the bastard(s) who managed to get her sick.

Farah - The one who feels guilty for being in the state that she's in and would rather she tend to herself but Farah relents when you tell her she deserves this and more. It's so cute the way she gets a little bashful when you do so.

[heliads]

Can I pretty please request Carlos Sainz x reader where she’s rly shy and gets worried that maybe he wants someone more outgoing but he tells her he loves her any way she is? Your writing is amazing 🫶🏻

anon i love you wholeheartedly please let me speak on carlos

masterlist

You are not who you are supposed to be. There are qualifications for being the girlfriend of a Formula One driver, you’re sure of it, probably even a style guide somewhere if you only bothered to look it up. Perfect hair. Clean makeup. Pretty, but doesn’t try too hard. Willing to give up their whole life to follow one man on mad jaunts across the planet. Wherever your guidebook is, though, you must have lost it long ago, because you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, and worst of all, it’s starting to show.

You never should have gotten into this position in the first place. That isn’t to say that you hate it, far from it; dating Carlos Sainz is the best thing that ever happened to you, making you the happiest wrong person at the right time to ever exist. In every other universe, he’s probably seeing models or actresses, but here, he has you, and you’re willing to fight off every multiversal version of you just to keep everything as it is right now.

Your butterfly effect was quite stunning, actually. You ended up getting tickets to a Grand Prix through last minute cancellations. They were great, came with paddock passes and all that, and while you were lingering through Ferrari hospitality, Carlos happened to drop by to visit a friend and he noticed you while you were in line to get some water. He’s got the confidence of, well, a world class athlete, an adrenaline junkie, a professional race car driver, and so he introduced himself.

Sometimes, it’s just as easy as that. A father’s cousin’s roommate buys two tickets to a Grand Prix, then a stranger’s roommate’s brother gets sick, and suddenly you’re touching down off a plane overseas and walking through the door of paddock hospitality. You wear red, and you are seen. Just like that.

It took one more weekend before either of you knew that you wanted what you had to last for good. He texted you, followed you on Instagram and blew his cover of seeming cool by accidentally liking a post of yours from six years ago. And, when he saw you again, he knew that he wanted the spark between you to be something more, something like a bonfire.

Coincidence may have supported you thus far, but you don’t trust it not to abandon you. At the end of the day, you are you, you are Y/N L/N, and you are so far removed from Carlos’ world that it stuns you to think that you were even in his orbit so long as to meet him. If there are powers that be somewhere in the universe, they’re either playing a cruel joke or messing around to give you a helping hand. 

Hopefully, it’ll be the latter, but truly who knows at this point. As if it wasn’t surreal enough to introduce Carlos to your friends and family as Carlos Sainz, Formula One driver. As if it doesn’t blow your minds that people have started making Instagram accounts just dedicated to posting photos of you and your boyfriend whenever you’re seen out together.

The problem lies in the insanity of it all. You are not from this sort of life, you weren’t born into a silver spoon dynasty and you barely know how to interact with any of them now. You get along with the other WAGs as best you can; Heidi’s lovely, sure, and you were friendly with Charlotte until she disappeared, but sometimes it feels like it’s just you and your boyfriend against the world. Of any ally to pick, Carlos would be your top choice each and every time, but still. The fact remains that he will go out and race and leave you to your own devices, and you lack the extroverted impulses to social climb with everyone else.

This, then, is the main concern. You can pick out whatever designer clothes you want, goodness knows Carlos has offered to buy you anything already, and you can get your nails and hair done before each and every race, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, at your core, are never going to enjoy the paparazzi circus whenever you have to brave it.

It’s just not your scene, that’s all. You’re on the quieter side, happy to spend time with a few key friends but increasingly nervous in large crowds. Formula One is all large crowds, as you’ve discovered; thousands of fans, hundreds of engineers and team members, plus drivers and girlfriends and best friends. So many eyes, all on you. So many voices all shouting over each other.

You love Carlos, though, and you love him wholeheartedly, so you gather up your courage and go to race weekends when you can. Every time Carlos sees you in the crowd, he smiles so widely his friends tease him for weeks, and he runs to you first after every podium and strong finish. You want to be there for your boyfriend, truly you do, you just wonder if all of this should come easier to you than it does.

Also, you wonder if Carlos wishes the same thing. He has been nothing but perfect to you, so the spirals of guilt currently tangling their way through your insides are purely of your own creation, but what if he truly does think like that? Carlos must see the other WAGs, how they shine and sparkle with attention instead of feeling the urge to run. Wouldn’t he want that? Wouldn’t he get frustrated that you can’t be like the rest?

Thousands of girls in the world, and he picks you. You don’t know if it’s sweet or genuinely frightening. He wanted you out of everyone, yes, but he could replace you in a snap, swapping you out like some useless part on his car. There is nothing about you that cannot be replicated in any other girl. Even Charles did it, in a way, got himself a new girlfriend that’s a dead ringer for Charlotte. Carlos has no reason to keep you except for something he knows and you don’t.

The guessing will drive you mad, maybe, but you’ll lose your sanity long before that just trying to keep up with everything in his fast-paced life. You’ve been to prior F1 races, obviously, it’s how you met Carlos in the first place and it’s also how you kept him, but this upcoming weekend is different, this is Barcelona. Carlos is the center of attention at his home race, and every step he takes, a new storm of people is flooding in to ask him for autographs, selfies, anything to remind them that he’s real and right before their eyes.

Carlos doesn’t ask for a whole lot, and he certainly didn’t force you to come to this race, but you saw the hope in his dark eyes when he brought it up oh-so-casually at a dinner last week. You had assured him that you would go there to cheer him on along with the rest of his home crowd, and Carlos had been delighted for the rest of the evening.

You are happy to go, truly, but it’s taking everything in you to keep your smile up in front of the reporters and crowds and fans, and it’s just the first day. All you’re handling right now is qualifying, not even the actual race. In the back of your mind, a voice whispers that it’s only going to get worse from here on out, but when Carlos looks back at you as you wind through the paddock, you just smile and tell him you’re glad to be there with him. You’re here for him, after all, and Carlos is busy enough with race stuff that he won’t want to hear your complaints.

That’s what you keep repeating to yourself throughout the entirety of that day. Carlos qualifies well and is properly pleased about it, as he should be. The possibility of a podium or perhaps even a win for his home race has been one of his top goals for the season, and he’s as close as he can get to it right now. He earnestly talks about it the whole drive back to your hotel, but once you’re back in the safety and peace of the room, the conversation abruptly switches back to you.

Carlos sheds his jacket at the door, watches you flop down onto the bed with a smile on his face, then asks you pointedly, “And how are you doing, amor?”

You smile back at him, the expression trained to perfection after being tested so many times today. “Great! Glad that everything’s going so well for you. I’ll be cheering for P1 tomorrow.”

In truth, you’re tired more than anything. People kept coming up to you all day, assuming that taking a selfie with Carlos’ girlfriend was at least half as good as getting to see him. They gave you all manner of gifts and things to give to him, extracting promises that you’d tell him dozens of different people wished him well. You knew you’d get a lot more attention when you started dating Carlos, but the lack of personal space and privacy at the races is truly unlike anything you’d experienced before.

Carlos has been dating you long enough to pick up on this, apparently, because he furrows his brow and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “I’ll be glad to see you tomorrow, but do you want to tell me what is really on your mind? Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know you, no?”

You sigh, covering your face with one of your arms. Carlos deflects from this attempt to hide by gently pulling your arm away, pressing a kiss to your forehead to make up for it. “Talk to me, cariño.”

You look sorrowfully at him, but when it becomes clear that Carlos won’t let you go until you confess, you give in. “It’s just a lot, I guess. The people and the cameras and everything.”

Carlos frowns. “I can get them to go away, you know that. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You look away. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear it. All of the other girlfriends have no problem with it, just me. I thought you’d want me to be more outgoing, so I tried, I really did, it’s just hard for me, I don’t know why.”

When you dare to risk a glance up at Carlos, you’re surprised to notice that he looks genuinely hurt. “Sweetheart, you didn’t think that I would actually be unhappy about that? I just want you to be happy. Don’t think about me.”

You let out a low breath. “I know, it’s just– I want to be like the rest, really. I don’t want this to be a reason–”

You cut yourself off, distracted by Carlos’ hands still wrapped around yours. Carlos picks up on the obviously dropped subject, though, and looks at you with fresh concern. “You don’t want it to be a reason for what?”

“That you would break up with me,” you whisper.

That’s it, then. That’s the truth. If you can’t live with Carlos’ lifestyle, why wouldn’t he leave you for someone who could? It makes perfect sense to you, but judging by Carlos’ expression, that logic couldn’t be further from his mind.

“No, Y/N,” he says, “That’s not right at all. I don’t want to break up with you, like, ever. Not because of this. I don’t want someone else, I want you. I love you, querida. I love the girl who showed up out of nowhere and made me forget about every other woman in the world. I love the girl who shows up to my home race even though it stresses her out because she wants to be there for me. I love you, Y/N. No one else. Just you.”

And, well, in the face of such passionate declarations, who could stand firm in their own self-pity? Certainly not you. You smile and let him kiss you again and again until you can’t see straight, and after that it is better, it is all better. Hearing it straight from Carlos is better than trying to guess at it. It lets your worries finally sink off into nothingness. It’s just you and him, just what he wants. Just what you want.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

[wearepurplejackets]

Little recap of episode 4 of season 4 of Wakfu

Look at this!!

You saw this beautiful smile???? This smile can stop babies from crying (and Nora). This smile can revive a puppy.

You saw it???

Well, I hope you did because I think we'll not see it in a really loooooooong time~ (maybe 9... Or 10 episodes.) The storm is coming... violently with a bat.

(BEHOLD SPOILERS OF EP 4 OF SEASON 4 OF WAKFU)

I remember Tot said season 4 was gonna be sad a f*ck and that Yugo will have to pass some kind of "hard trial" (AGAIN) in this season because this kid will never have a good rest. Not even a breath. Stop. Give this little boy some holidays c'mon, the lord is always testing our little angel to the limit. (And by lord I mean Ankama I'm looking at you...)

So it's very likely that Yugo will start to suffer even more in the next episode. And of course, in the entire season :))))))) Let this boy have something, someone precious by his side more than an instant and stop take it from him in the next second, I beg you. (He just found his family... And... Qilby I guess. And Adamai just abandoned him already to investigate by his own way...)

Just seeing how the kings and queens of every nation were so disrespectful in front of him and just called his mother a monster and made her cry, well. (I want to riot! When Joris said they were "quite tense" he fell short.)

Okay, yes, I understand the eyes in the sky~ are pretty creepy and of course I don't trust her either, at least, like this is so suspicious for sure, no one was born yesterday even when she is trying to be so kind and helpful monitoring the entire planet (yeessss mom, way too much).

But, c'mon, this is a goddess as tall as... I don't know, as much as she wants, girl she is made of f*cking magic. If she wanted she could erase you from existence. She didn't have to give a f*ck about anyone and HERE WE ARE~

The best thing you can do is looking for a fight with her in the moment you meet her with no hesitasion? Do you want to die that much? Do you know about survival? Did you skip that class maybe? (I'm going for a tea BECAUSE-)

It was so necessary to (be a little racist dear rich people and) insult the giant blue mother of your hero in his f*cking face and the people who are at least trying to do your job (which any of you losers did well, like ever, btw. When Sadida kingdom was about to be destroyed by the chaos of Ogrest what did you do?? Eh, where were you???)

Jobs like protecting and saving your citizens from, nothing, being robbed and I don't know: imminent death??? I mean, really? Was that all you thought about in this situation? Being a d*ck was your best choice.

These same guys here were talking about stolen freedom?? What freedom? The brotherhood of Tofu had to save your asses for like 3 season. 3 ovas and dozens of comics. The same people who criticize others actions but never assist and reunite when they are needed, Cause I don't know Rick, it seems a little fake....

Yugo just met his mom and his sis and he already has the world of 12 hating them... Like wow, the rulers are all going to die in the hands of that kind of white demon/zombies of TLOU/soul suckers or whatever they are. And I really don't give a f*ck for any of them, ladies and gentlemen. Only the crowns are going to remain. (Down with the monarchy.)

Weeeeeeeell.

You know what? I don't care what Yugo will do from this point. Nop, not a bit. But I'm with him to the end of everything. I will support you honey, I will defend you no matter what. I mean, I'll be totally okay if he decides to save the world for the third f*cking time and I also will be okay if in the end he prefers to let all these motherf*ckers die in an instant with no mercy and no regre-

And it could even happen that Yugo loses someone important in season 4... (The same way I will lose my mind.) Hope that never happens, I just swear to god-

Anyway, Yugo fans, unite and brace yourselves.

[suzukiblu]

Day ten of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

The waitress comes over with another steaming mug of hot chocolate for Kon and Tim awkwardly orders not-Robin's-coffee-order, which since he's panicking he defaults to Caroline Hill's usual for. She's a med student, she drinks enough caffeine for his tastes. And also she likes extremely sugary drinks, which is definitely to his taste. 

Look, Robin can't drink an iced brown sugar oat milk espresso with six extra pumps of syrup and four extra shots of espresso, especially in front of the exact teammate who would tease him the most mercilessly for having a finicky drink order, but Caroline Hill can drink anything she wants, and Tim Drake is just gonna be channeling her for this conversation, he guesses. Her Twitter account already got him here to begin with, so he might as well.

“That is a concerning amount of caffeine in one drink, dude,” Kon observes with a raised eyebrow instead of teasing him over either the syrup or oat milk, which is not actually what Tim expected to hear. But, well, he's not Robin right now, so maybe Kon isn't feeling the same urge to start shit that he usually seems to. 

Tim's not sure how to feel about that. But Robin is, technically, an “authority” figure and a fellow superhero, and Tim Drake is just some guy, so . . . 

Actually, Tim doesn't really know how Kon gets along with civilian guys. He's seen him flirt up plenty of civilian girls, obviously, but he doesn't really seem to talk to all that many guys. Like . . . ever, actually. 

Weird, he thinks, repressing a frown. 

“How would you know, you're Kryptonian,” he says. 

“Half-Kryptonian,” Kon says, then waves a hand around the café. “And like, you know, also this entire planet is full of people who can just tell me these things. Five thousand milligrams is the minimum lethal dose of caffeine for a healthy adult, which is something like seventy-five shots of espresso, but more than four or five shots in a day is still not gonna be great for you, and you just ordered six.”

“. . . how the hell do you just know that off the top of your head?” Tim asks, blinking at him in absolute bewilderment, and Kon smirks in smug amusement.

“Dude, I was programmed by exhausted grad students pulling six months straight of all-nighters,” he says, pointing at his own temple. “I know every possible thing there is to know about every possible caffeine delivery system. Including the illegal ones and the ones the government hasn't yet realized should be illegal.” 

“Huh,” Tim says, still more than a little bewildered. That does make sense, he guesses, but since Kon's already told the team he has absolutely no useful background in any kind of science or math past the absolute kiddie-level basics when they were all exchanging information about all their personal training and experience, it's still a surprise to hear. Shouldn't Cadmus have prioritized an actual education over things like safe caffeine intake for baseline humans, especially since Kon's safe intake level is probably different from a baseline human's anyway? Which–well, he guesses Kon did get cracked out of his cloning tube early, but still. They at least should've been building up the basics for him. Like–more than the kiddie-level basics, he means. 

Cadmus is definitely not capable enough to be in charge of Kon. Like, at all. Ever. Tim has fewer and fewer regrets about this whole plan every minute, in fact. If anything, he should've started drafting it the day he met Rex Leech, never mind the fact that Kon hadn't technically existed yet at the time. Or after the Poison Ivy incident, maybe. At the least he should've done up an outline or two after he and Kon and Bart had helped Suzie escape recapture and then collectively lied to the government about it.

“You work for those guys, right?” he “asks” as Kon takes a sip of his new hot chocolate, because while the best time to start this whole plan was months ago, the second-best time to start it is now. “Project Cadmus?” 

"Yeah," Kon replies, looking a little surprised by the question. Tim reminds himself to con the team into brushing up on the superhero version of stranger danger, because Kon answered that question way too easily. "Well, just started to. I'm a field agent. How'd you know?” 

"I've done some research on you since we first met," Tim says, which isn't even a lie; just some careful phrasing. "I really appreciated what you did for me. And to be honest, I think we'd get along."

"Oh yeah? Tell me all about it," Kon says as his posture shifts a little and he flashes him the kind of smirk he normally reserves for, well . . . 

Huh, Tim thinks in vague bemusement.

Kon's flirting with him. 

. . . huh. 

Not actually the angle Tim was intending to take here, but . . . well, he's not above taking it. And anyway, Kon's just a flirt in general, so it's not like it means anything. 

Admittedly Tim hasn't actually seen him flirt with a guy before, but presumably Kon's just feeling out an opportunity to experiment or not ready to be out to the team yet. Tim's not, so he'd hardly blame him for that. Tim's not even out to Steph.

And he's definitely, definitely not out to Bruce. 

Well, ideally he'll be a supervillain before that becomes necessary, assuming his life goes to plan. 

Robin was always going to be a temporary gig, after all. 

"I don't know," he says, and lets the corners of his mouth curl up in amusement. "You just seem like my type of guy." 

"Your type of guy?" Kon says, his smirk widening as he leans in towards Tim, who decides to pretend that particular bit of flirtatious implication was actually intentional. Tim is . . . not all that great at flirting, admittedly, but it's not like Kon has particularly high standards past “didn't explicitly tell me to fuck off”, so Tim figures he'll be able to get by for long enough to have this conversation. 

Not much longer, but all the same. He has a plan to pitch, that's all that actually matters here. 

“Yeah,” he says. “And I wanted to thank you for saving me, so . . .” 

“You wanna thank me, Tim Drake?” Kon asks with a slower, wider smirk, leaning in a little more again, and Tim instantly turns bright red as he realizes how that actually sounded. 

Yeah, okay, he is actually the worst at flirting. Fuck. 

“Uh, yes!” he says quickly, very much needing to clarify that statement before his stupid fucking hormones try to talk him into maybe just . . . leaning into that particular miscommunication a little. Not the goal here. Definitely not. “I mean–being a field agent doesn't sound particularly lucrative? And I know being a superhero isn't.” 

“Lucrative?” Kon blinks, expression turning puzzled. “I mean, I guess not. I don't need that much money or anything, though, I just live at Cadmus these days.” 

“You live in a lab?” Tim says, letting himself sound as incredulously horrified as he felt the first time he heard that. “Why?” 

“I dunno, saves me a commute,” Kon replies with a shrug. “Also, like, it's not like I have a credit score to get my own place with. Or a legal identity. Or, you know, money. Landlords tend to want those.” 

“Hm,” Tim says. “Do you want one?” 

“Huh?” Kon wrinkles his nose in confusion. 

“Your own place,” Tim clarifies. “I really would like to thank you. I could help you get a place.” 

“Uh, thanks? But I still couldn't afford rent, even if somebody cosigned for me or whatever,” Kon says, looking puzzled. “I really don't make that much.”

“No, I mean I'd pay your rent,” Tim explains, which is in fact an insane person thing to offer somebody, admittedly, but it's not like Kon has all that reliable a grasp of normal social mores. “Or just buy you a place outright and pay your property taxes. Whichever you'd prefer.”

Kon blinks. Tilts his head. 

“So like, you're just a very extra dude, huh,” he says after a moment, his eyebrows slowly raising as he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. “Like you're the guy who blows the budget on the friend group's Secret Santa out of the water every year.”

“Possibly,” Tim says, putting on a sheepish smile. Kon laughs and folds his arms on the table, looking amused. 

“You wanna buy me an apartment?” he asks. “What, just for saving your life?” 

“I really think you're undervaluing that particular achievement,” Tim says. 

“I think you're overvaluing it,” Kon replies with another laugh. “No offense, but I didn't do anything but block one lousy bullet.” 

“One lousy bullet is enough,” Tim says, and doesn't think of any bodies he's seen. Kon tilts his head again, then takes a sip of his hot chocolate. 

“Okay, fair,” he allows. “But I'm bulletproof.” 

“I'm not,” Tim says. 

“You were as long as I was touching the same floor as you,” Kon replies with a shrug, and takes another sip. “It wasn't like I did anything hard.” 

He hasn't actually said “no” to the apartment. Tim's pretty sure that's just because he thinks he's either ridiculous or just not being serious, but he's not above pressing the advantage anyway. 

“You didn't have to do anything at all, though,” he says. "And buying you a place wouldn't be all that hard for me either. Besides, you deserve a little gratitude for your efforts, don't you think?” 

"Sounds like supervillain talk, dude," Kon says, his mouth quirking in amusement around his next sip. Tim resolves to dial back on that at this point in his career. He's laying groundwork, yes, but subtlety is still the wiser course of action. 

"You say that like you've never socialized with a supervillain before," he counters dryly. 

"Well, usually ones who wear a bit less," Kon replies, lowering his mug to grin wickedly at him. Tim figures if a little more flirting might soften him up on this whole idea, well . . . 

It's not the most altruistic thing he's ever done for a plan, admittedly, but if it works, it works. 

"So you're telling me I should invest in a crop top before I try to take over the world and remake it in my own image?" he asks still more dryly as he raises an eyebrow at Kon with a little smirk, and Kon laughs and leans in a little closer again, giving him a not very subtle up-and-down with his eyes. 

"Only if you're trying to recruit me for your evil plans, pretty boy," he says, grin turning sharp. Tim feels vaguely faint, and also wants to lick the bastard's stupid perfect teeth. Jesus. "So I dunno, what are your feelings on Daisy Dukes?" 

"I'm going to be honest, I'm not actually that much of an exhibitionist so at this point we're just describing my ideal costume updates for you," Tim informs him. 

"Oh yeah?" Kon asks with another laugh even as he straightens back up to visibly preen at the suggestion. Tim is all for that, personally. Both the preening and the theoretical updates, in fact. And, a little more weirdly, just the idea of having anything whatsoever to do with what Kon might ever decide to wear. Especially whatever he might decide to wear for his costume. 

Yeah, that's probably a later thought, Tim decides. Like, a private-time kind of later thought. Specifically “behind locked doors in an empty house” private-time, actually.

"You're solar-powered, aren't you?" he says reasonably, because apparently he likes to suffer and also make himself low-key insane. "Showing a bit more skin can't hurt." 

"I wonder if Superman would buy that excuse," Kon says musingly. 

"Power Girl exists," Tim replies still more reasonably. "And Supergirl wears a miniskirt, last I checked." 

"Valid," Kon says, putting on a mock-thoughtful expression and tapping the side of his jaw. "Maybe I'll put in some cutouts and go for a lower neckline, tell the big guy he's making the rest of us look like prudes. What do you think, bikini or high-cut bottoms?"

"I don't know the difference," Tim lies, desperately trying not to overheat and die at that question and every single accompanying mental image that his useless brain has so helpfully decided to supply. "You'll have to provide examples."

"Will I now," Kon says, grinning all over again and pointedly striking a very suggestive pose in his seat. Tim valiantly struggles not to melt. "What, pretty boy, you want a fashion show?" 

"Well I did want to be a photographer when I was a kid," Tim says, although it was definitely never that kind of photography he had in mind. Kon laughs again and shifts in closer again, though, so it's worth it. Tim is mortified, but also undeniably into just . . . all of this, really, just everything about this conversation. Robin can't flirt with Superboy, but, well . . . Tim Drake still isn't Robin, now is he? 

He's probably taking advantage of the situation a little, Tim can admit to himself, but it's still just . . . nice. He's wanted to flirt with Kon for way too long, at this point. Indulging in a little bit of it isn't the worst thing he could do. 

And again, it's Kon, so it's not like it's serious or anything. The guy won't even remember this conversation tomorrow, much less anything about Tim Drake. 

. . . admittedly that'd be counterproductive to Tim's long-term goals here, but still. He's willing to take his time on this. There's a plan. It has steps. Layers. Processes. 

"I like you, man," Kon says with a wider grin, which is in absolutely no way whatsoever in the plan. "You're funny."

Tim stares blankly at him as it occurs to him, almost disbelievingly, that he might've . . . made a good impression on Kon? Somehow? 

Well, that's weird.

"I'll never get a fashion show out of you if I'm not at least funny," he says on autopilot, as someone who's been well-taught both when and how to press an advantage. Kon, yet again, grins at him, and gives him another much brighter laugh than usual. 

Actually, he kind of hasn't stopped grinning at him, has he. 

Huh. 

. . . huh. 

Tim really did not plan for this. This is just . . . not at all what the plan was. 

“Well, you definitely are funny,” Kon says, biting his lip around a warm little smile and ducking his head just enough to look at Tim from under his lashes, and Tim decides he can probably just amend the plan.

He's a Bat, isn't he? They know how to improvise when they have to.

[justawritterwithideas]

Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r

✩ previous part | next part ✩

summary: Things start to get a little tense when Y/N and Spencer have to come face to face to find the person who wants to hurt her, but a clue leads to the total breakdown of everything.

general warnings: this series contains topics such as mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers.

chapter warnings: this chapter contains strong language, confrontations, mentions of murder, among other similar things. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.

words: 4,380 words.

a/n: hi guys, after days there's finally a new chapter of boy wonder and the rockstar, yay. sorry for the delay but it's been weeks without creativity, but finally i can upload a decent chapter. sorry if it's a bit (too) dramatic, but put yourselves in y/n's shoes, ok? this chapter has strong confrontations and a little bit of plot change, but don't worry, in the next chapter everything will calm down, trust me. thanks in advance for the love and also for the support for the previous chapters, see ya!

𝟎.𝟑: 𝐒𝐒𝐀 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧.

Sometimes, our mind plays tricks on us, like remembering those embarrassing moments in life, but not remembering the formula to do an equation; remembering what that person told you and that marked you forever, but not remembering what your mother asked you to do.

Sometimes, also, destiny plays tricks on us.

Those times when you ask, please, that the earth swallow you up and spit you out anywhere else but there, that it take you to the deepest part of the planet and disappear until everyone forgets you exist.

I think that concept was the exact way to describe what Y/N and Spencer were experiencing after coming face to face, after 15 years.

On the one hand, the astonishment of the girl's friends and on the other, the confusion of the boy's friends.

Face to face, facing the reunion and the various emotions they experienced from head to toe.

"Reid, do you two know each other?" Emily's voice made them both turn in her direction, but Spencer without even being able to bring himself to answer, the words were snatched from his mouth and taken up by the opposite.

"It's not something I'm interested in being honest, but us knowing each other doesn't affect the investigation, does it?"

Bang, first bullet.

"No, it doesn't affect."

Spencer glanced in the blonde's direction, crossing glances again for the second time that day.

That warm look she always gave him when they met had become the iciest anyone had ever given him.

Bang, second bullet.

"Miss Autumn... Or Y/N?"

"I'm both, I don't mind being called one way or the other." The girl looked in the direction of the group of people, who were watching her trying to decipher where she and the tall one knew each other from. To divert attention, she changed the subject. "Please sit down, I feel a little embarrassed that you are up and we are sitting down." Commented the girl.

The group of people settled around the four individuals seated on the large couch.

But Spencer's eyes did not move from the girl, who stirred uneasily in her seat.

Y/N was more nervous about the presence of the man she hadn't seen in years than about what had just happened a couple of hours ago.

Her hands were shaking, her heart was pounding in the bottom of her chest, she was out of breath and her mouth felt dry, as if she had run a marathon.

She knew that at some point she would meet that boy, the thing is she didn't think it would be so soon. The situation they were in wasn't the best, and even less so with the context behind it, but clearly fate didn't care what was happening and made them meet despite Y/N's prayers not to meet the one-who-must-not-be-named again.

Spencer looked more mature, even though he was always mature for his age. She remembered that he used to do the fee slip for some older friends that Y/N used to have, plus he knew how to think maturely regarding his decisions; not like her, who chose her hair color based on which box of dye was cheapest in the market, but Spencer always said she looked good in any color.

"Miss Y/N." The woman's lost gaze went in the direction of the blonde girl speaking to her, blinking quickly to focus.

"Yes? Sorry, I was just thinking..." Her gaze went from side to side, noting that they were expectant of her answer. "Excuse me, what was the question?"

A sigh came out of Tyler's mouth, who was leaning against the back of the couch. One thing the guitarist hated was the police, more so the feds so, them being there was not at all to his liking.

"I was asking what you did prior to you getting the box."

"Oh yeah, well we were coming from a sound check of the venue where we would be performing. We did that and then we would go to lunch, but before that we were going to stop by the hotel for a change of clothes. I walked into the front desk and was talking to Felix, but before I got on the elevator the receptionist told me that a package had arrived in my name." The girl let out a soft sigh, refocusing on her story. "I wasn't surprised that a package would suddenly arrive, usually information about where you are and who you're with usually travels faster than light, plus it's not the first time it's happened to me."

"What do you mean it's not the 'first time it's happened to you'?" J.J. asked again.

"Well, usually brands contact the band's marketing people days in advance to find out where we are to send packages, to use at concerts or interviews as part of the publicity. It's not the first time a brand has sent a package to a hotel for us to receive." Suddenly, Y/N's face became a bit of an enigma to people. "Even though I was surprised that it was addressed to me, usually they tend to address it to Gerald because he is the manager, they don't usually expose our personal information because of possible leaks."

"That's true, they always send packages in my name by protocol, it's part of the contract that is signed with the brand at the time of sending it." Gerald stated.

"So them sending packages in your name is not a normal thing, is it?" asked Emily.

"That's right, there are usually packages that come with letters inside that indicate who they are addressed to, you know... 'Dear Autumn or Dear Paradox'." Spencer's gaze went in the direction of the pictures in the package and then to the girl in front of him, who looked distracted at the rings on her fingers.

None looked like a wedding or engagement ring, Spencer thought.

Even though that thought quickly faded, it was unprofessional to think about it when a madman was after her and sending her ghoulish gifts.

"So the person thinks they're close to you, or they're a person from the past who was close to you." Commented Tara, who simply kept leaning against a wall.

"It's kind of hard, a lot of the people who were close to me suddenly cut off contact or are stuck with me, like this group." A fake laugh escaped Y/N's lips, glancing in the direction of Reid, who was lowering his gaze.

Bang, final punchline.

"Thank you, miss. We know it's important information you've just given us, but we'll still have to conduct an interrogation with all of you separately." Before anyone could protest, Emily continued. "This way we can rule them out as suspects, we know they wouldn't hurt Y/N, but this way we can start working quickly and efficiently to find the culprit, before it gets any bigger."

"What do you mean by 'bigger'?"

Y/N looked in the direction of the woman in the suit, who simply let out a sigh.

"That it might come to hurt someone in your circle or... you."

All the air in Y/N's throat shot out, feeling her insides stir at what the woman had just said.

They could hurt her friends just by being friends with her, the only family she had left just by being close to her.

"Thank you agents." Gerald stood up as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he had to warn the management straight about the risk of the tour at this point.

This was a disaster, a complete disaster.

It had been a couple of hours since the agents had set up at the hotel.

Since that couple of hours, Spencer had not been able to cross a single word with Y/N.

It wasn't because they wouldn't let him, on the contrary, he'd had plenty of opportunities to do so.

But the words in his throat wouldn't come out, it was as if they were trapped and his brain wasn't working at all.

"How do you know Autumn, Boy wonder?"

Penelope's voice snapped Spencer out of his chimera.

"What are you talking about, Garcia?"

"Don't try to fool me, it's clear you two go way back. You knew who she was with just a glance and she confirmed it, even though you'd never seen who it was. You didn't even react when we saw her pictures at Quantico, you didn't seem to know who she was until she spoke here, so tell me now, how do you know her?"

The woman's hands went to her hips, implementing pressure to get Spencer to talk about what was going on.

Y/N and Spencer were a couple of feet away, but they seemed like they were miles apart.

"It's a long story." Spencer began.

"If you don't tell me, I'll investigate under my own steam and believe me now that Hotch is gone, I'm not going to stop."

"Well, Y/N and I have known each other since college. We were friends for a long time, exactly three years..." A long sigh took hold of Reid, who felt all the memories together fall like an avalanche of sensations and emotions, just like how it was when he was in college. "I think he was one of the few people who put up with me during this time and who supported me the most. But when I was accepted to the academy I promised not to cut off contact with her when I moved to Virginia..."

"So what happened, why did it seem like running into you is the most horrendous thing that ever happened to her, even though she got a human finger this morning?" Penelope's own questions were answered as she looked at Spencer's embarrassed face. "Don't tell me that... Oh no, Spencer."

"I stopped responding to her letters within a month of arriving in Virginia, cut off all contact with her."

It seemed that admitting it made the pain stronger and stronger, like a stake through his stomach and his whole body.

"Why, Spence, why did you do that?"

"Well, the truth is-"

"Guys, there's security camera footage. Penelope we need you."

They both looked at each other before they could make their way to where everyone was.

They were all standing around the computer, where it was clear on the monitor screen as someone dressed as a courier dropped off the box, then handed a receipt to the receptionist and quickly left. Fast forwarding the recording, the moment where the band enters and the package is handed over can be seen.

"Well, the girl gets the package and then asks a question." Luke spoke aloud.

"She probably asks who sent it or who delivered it, to make sure it's for her." J.J. replied back.

"And then she goes to the elevator, the doors close and then..." The recording switches to the one in the hallway where the group is seen exiting the elevator heading to one of the hotel's private rooms. The new image is seen in the boardroom, where everyone is seen sitting around chatting and the woman opening the box.

The scene seemed orchestrated for a key scene in a horror movie: the girl screaming, holding her hands to her mouth and the others seeing the inside of the box, Felix trying to calm Y/N down, Tyler running out of the room, Gerald calling mortified to what appeared to be the police and Shawn calling on the phone in the room to what would be reception. In a quick lapse, the amount of people running in and out of the room is seen, leading people outside to leave the scene as close to what had just happened and soon stops when the police arrive, who do the procedure when faced with such situations.

"The group enters the room, Y/N opens the box, yells and soon everyone takes different stances with what they just saw, but no one touches the box except for Y/N..." Rossi watches Penelope replay the recording from the beginning, from receiving the package.

"I think it's common sense seeing that, I wouldn't touch a box with a human finger too." Garcia replied to Rossi.

Spencer watched everything in extreme detail, trying to figure out what he was missing. There was something that didn't add up to him, as if it was all set up to happen that way.

"Doesn't it look to you like everything was perfectly organized?" Spencer's voice made everyone turn to him. "Like everything all of a sudden was made to run like that, like that person wanted us to see what happened, every single thing that happened while we got there."

Every single movement of the band was on camera, from their departure from the hotel in the morning to their arrival at lunchtime; from when, Y/N, they received the package to when they opened it, what everyone in the band was doing at the time of the event and even after the event, every single movement was monitored by the cameras, every single one of them.

"It's as if that person knew their routine to the letter, every single schedule and activity..." At the time, all BAU members had one person in mind, the only person who could know every detail about them was the one who lived 24/7 with them.

"Thanks, big G." Y/N received the coffee between her hands, drinking it from the makeshift interrogation room. The five of them were looking at each other, trying to understand what they were doing there and how they had gotten there.

"I don't understand why they have us here, we haven't done anything. We've already told our story a bunch of times and to different people, what the fuck are they waiting for to free us? A divine miracle? For this crazy guy to come and turn himself in?" Tyler was the most dismayed at that moment, at any moment he was going to explode against anyone who stood in front of him.

"Stop it, Tyler. We're not getting anything out of your shitty attitude, they're shuffling through every possibility to rule us out of being a crazed psychopath out to hurt Y/N." Shawn gently patted Tyler to try to calm him down, but it seemed to have made him more prone to explode. "The more we help on this, the faster we can get out here and have a good nap."

"Shawn's right, guys. Let's try to make it easier for the agents to investigate, so we can get on with the tour as soon as possible." Gerald finished with his pack of gummies, tossing the wrapper in the trash.

"What did the bosses say regarding this?" Y/N's words made Gerald let out a sigh, sitting back in the chair where he was.

"As long as this won't calm down and that none of us were in danger, the tour will have to be paused or at worst, cancelled."

A wave of protests came out of the band's mouths, causing Gerald to have to pound the table to calm them down.

"Cancel it, G? We haven't been on stage for two years and to suddenly cancel it, our sales will go down." Tyler vociferated, rising from his seat.

"What's going to happen to the fans? We're going to disappoint them if we cancel it just like that, they've waited for four years for new music and two for a tour, are they going to keep us on indefinite hiatus again? You know how long we've waited for a tour, they know the level of fans we manage worldwide." Y/N was next to rant, bringing one of her hands to her hair to comb it.

"Can't you tell your fed friend to help us hurry this up?"

A current of electricity coursed through every part of Y/N's anatomy, who turned to look at Tyler for his words.

"No."

Y/N's words were harsher than breaking a diamond in two, causing the guitarist to raise his hands in a symbol of peace.

"Let's try to stay calm, guys. Let's not lose our peace, this will work out, I read that the BAU is one of the most prestigious groups in the FBI, they'll be able to solve this problem before this goes any bigger." Felix turned in Y/N's direction, giving her hand a gentle squeeze and invited her to sit next to him.

The silence and calm didn't last long as Spencer and Emily entered the room, along with two police officers.

"Officers, are you bringing news?" Shawn asked, before he could watch as the officers approached Gerald's chair.

"Mr. Gerald Murphy, you are under arrest for being the prime suspect in the crime committed-" Emily's voice made all four of them stand up from where they were.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Felix was the first to react, trying to stop them from slapping handcuffs on the oldest of them all.

"What are you talking about, he didn't do anything! Gerald!" Y/N's loud voice made Emily's voice sound in the background, which recited the rights he had and escorted him out of the room. "Gerald! Please!"

"Hey! You sons of bitches, he had nothing to do with it!" Tyler went after them, along with Shawn who had him by the hip so he wouldn't throw himself at them.

"Shawn, call corporate! This is a misunderstanding, calm down." Slowly, Gerald's voice became more and more distant.

"Gerald! Please, he didn't do anything!" Y/N was more agile than the officers, so she quickly wriggled out of their grip.

She still didn't get very far when familiar hands held her back from going outside, where a group of paparazzi were waiting for some action for the morning news.

"'Stop it, Y/N... Enough fighting." Spencer's voice made her fidget, trying to get out of his grip, but starting to tire after a few struggles.

"Let go of me, Reid. Stay out of it, he didn't do anything." The girl's slender hands went to the chestnut's wrists, making them downward to signal him to let go.

When the boy released her, it made Y/N turn in his direction.

She was angry.

No.

She was furious, her face was red with rage and her voice was shaking.

"What's the matter with you people!? You just took away an innocent person."

"The evidence places you as the possible perpetrator, Y/N." Spencer was trying to sound calm, occupying his most professional voice in front of the girl.

"What the fuck are you talking about! He was with us when I got the package! And the last two months since he started the tour! We would have noticed if it had been him." Y/N's hand movements indicated desperation and exaltation, Spencer could tell with her body language.

"Have you been with him in the moments he's been missing to do unofficial things? Or in the spare moments between rehearsals?"

Y/N's voice was replaced by silence, leaving the most obvious answer in evidence.

"That person can be dangerous, Y/N."

"Then why didn't he ever do anything to me? Why didn't he ever do anything to us?" Y/N folded her arms, still wearing that annoyed expression on her face.

"Because I use decoys to take out his anger."

"What do you mean, a-are there more people besides Bruno?" Her voice trembled at the recent news, bringing her hands to her face as she realized Spencer's facial expression hadn't changed at all at the bad news.

"At least eleven cases have been linked, Y/N."

There's that scary expression again, Spencer thought.

Y/N had to brace herself against a wall to keep from losing her balance, feeling a sensation rise from the pit of her stomach to her throat.

Even though he was aware of what was happening, there was one thing that was clear to him.

"Gerald wasn't, Spencer. I can bet my voice on it, he's innocent."

"Y/N, the evidence-"

"Fuck the evidence, Spencer! He didn't do it! He wouldn't be able to! He bet his whole career on a broke shitty band, he bet his life on us." Small salty tears began to fall down the cheeks of the girl, who faced the young man. "Someone who bet his life, his career, his fate on a band with no future couldn't do that."

"Y/N..."

"No, Spencer! He wasn't, that's my final word." The petite girl's small body walked past the taller one, bumping her shoulder against the other's arm as she left the scene.

"Please, Y/N, listen to me."

Despite Reid's long legs, he wasn't able to catch up to the young blonde who was disappearing inside the elevator.

Everyone's attention was around the heated exchange of words between the two, it was impossible to let go of the situation they had just witnessed and even more so with the end of it.

The man leaned against a wall, letting out a heavy sigh before he could turn around inside the room where his companions were.

"Spence, everything okay?" J.J approached his best friend, who looked somewhat upset from what had just happened.

"Everything's fine, J.J. She was upset about the situation that just happened." He commented giving a long sigh, looking in the direction of the elevator door where the girl had just disappeared. "It's all right, okay?"

A new silence surrounded them with the people in the place, watching each other's faces for the next move they were going to make. Spencer was touchy, everyone knew the singer was detonating something even they didn't know if they could handle, a side of Spencer they had never seen.

"Excuse me, Dr. Reid?"

The brown-haired man's gaze went in the direction of the door, where the boy they identified as Shawn was standing.

"Can we talk?"

The cigarette between Y/N's fingers was burning away as time went by. The icy wind on the terrace gave her goose bumps, but she tried to forget the event that had just happened.

They had arrested her only remaining family, accusing him of being the person who might be sending her those horrible obsessive messages and also accusing him of possibly hurting her.

Along with this, she had just run into the person she thought she had forgotten after 15 years and would now have to be with him behind 24/7.

Footsteps sounded behind her, causing her to let out a whimper and, without looking back, she blurted out.

"Felix, please. I want to be alone, what part of that don't you understand?"

The smoke in her lungs choked when she heard the answer.

"I don't think it's a good idea to be alone on a rooftop, Y/N."

The girl's body turned, watching the tall man behind her. He had his hands in his pockets and had that look on his face that made her get on her knees.

"Least I want to see you, Reid. It's already too much to share with you for the last few hours." She commented sullenly, taking one last puff on her cigarette and flicked it to the ground, stomping on it with the toe of her boot.

The contrarian's arms crossed her chest, starting to walk in the direction of the door that divided them from the elevator and the terrace.

"Y/N, listen to me." Spencer's hand caught one of the girl's arms, causing her to turn sharply to push him away.

"I have nothing to hear from you, Spencer. Unless it's to get Gerald released."

"Gerald may be the person who wants to hurt you, Y/N. I'm doing this to protect you."

"Protect me or make a wash of your image?"

"You know better than that, I would never do anything like that."

"How can I believe you? Liars don't change, Spencer. Do me a favor and let me go."

Y/N's attempt to flee had been interrupted, again, by the older man who wouldn't let go of her arm.

"Please, you have to listen to me."

"No Spencer. It's been long enough that we could talk, and now I have to listen to you because you want me to? What's happen with me, I have to ignore the fact that you didn't contact me for 15 years and now I have to act like we're lifelong friends? No Spencer, it won't happen."

"Y/N, this goes beyond that, it's import-"

"Important? This is more important than you erasing the idea that I ever existed? That we ever had such a strong friendship? That I supported you in every way you could think of, what about me, Spencer? Do I also have to forget all the damage you did to me when you disappeared? It's not fair." Y/N's cheeks burned, all the pent up anger she was going to take out on him. "It was always 'Spencer this, Spencer that' you, you and you. For once, in your life, stop thinking about yourself and think about me, for once in your fucking life!"

"Things aren't the way you think, stop imagining things that aren't."

"Then how were they? Explain to me how things were. Go ahead."

The atmosphere between the two was so tense that they could cut it with a knife, as if suddenly all time stopped for both of them.

Spencer had a chance to redeem his mistake, to prove that the reason things were done this way was not because of his own arrogance, but to protect her. To prove the point of his absence for so long, of cutting off contact so suddenly, that he had done things right and always, always, thinking of her.

But he didn't.

"It's not the place and time to do it, Y/N."

Spencer could see the hint of illusion Y/N had in her eyes fade, as her pupils went completely black and on her face neutrality returned.

"Right, because for you it's never the place and time to do it, Spencer." Before she could turn around, she came back to face him one last time. "The day you have enough pants to face the problem, that day talk to me but for now, don't you dare cross me unless it's to get Gerald back here."

For the second time that day, Spencer watched Y/N's blonde hair disappear behind the metal doors.

Just like the last scent of their past together.

@alexa-33 | @ahhhhyesk | @imthefuckingleader | @narmothewraith | @kneelforloki | @niyahwhoreworld | @lexie0037 | @deadunicorn159 | @corpsebridenightamare | @preciousbabypeter | @sakuramadae | @zzz000eee | @runefirestarter | @sebastiansstanswhore | @whateverrrrrrrrs | @xsarcasticwriterx | @chris-seb-marvel | @bellaramseygfsblog | @lillysbigwilly | @dezibou | @astrophileous | @ily2lia | @sophiario | @valenftcrush | @oxace-of-heartsxo | @spencerrxids | @w31rdg1rl | @ineedsomezzz | @yeehawbitchs | @coolstories66 | @baku-hoes-blog | @bollzinurmouth | @louderfortheback | @flowersownme | @venomsvl | @strawberry--fawn | @maereasblog | @stevenknightmarc | @imaginexred | @chargrilli | @emrys-m | @queenofthedreaming1 | @lostinheavensworld | @sugarbutterbailey | @kaicyl | @fudosl | @read4funz | @mrsgweasley | @lazybot | @myfatbottomedgirls | @adaydreamaway08 | @narmothewraith | @dianalafleur | @basicallynotbreathing | @mj0801 | @augustinesletters | @clockworkballerina | @maereasblog | @niyahwhoreworld | @yourfavunsub

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a lot of love, alme. ❀

[nebulouscoffee]

The thing about Kai Winn's storyline ultimately being a tragedy is, it's not only a tragedy because her fate (in the eyes of the non-linear Prophets) was already known and nothing she did or said was ever going to make them acknowledge her- not only because she wanted so badly to have a big role to play in the grand, historic story of the newly independent Bajor and just couldn't handle the fact that she was never meant to- not only because the Prophets spoke to Sisko and Bareil and Kira and literally even Quark but not her- not only because she was deceived and raped and killed in the end- but most of all because, it was partly her love of Bajor that killed her.

Think about it- her whole regression during that final arc with Dukat is so tragic precisely because she was THIS close to redemption! Throughout the show, we see that her brain processes information in very rigid, binary ways: if you are not my ally, then you are my enemy. If you disagree with even one of my opinions, you are my enemy. If you refuse to endorse and support me in this mission, you are my enemy. That's part of why she's so easily swayed by fascist rhetoric, I think- she's just unable to cope with nuance. (This is foreshadowed in 'Shakaar', where she puts the whole of Bajor under martial law just because Shakaar disagreed with her over how she was handling soil reclamators.) Her personal narrative is I am the one who will save Bajor -> anyone who gets in my way is my enemy and therefore an enemy of Bajor -> I must stop them using any force necessary for the good of Bajor because I am after all the one who will save Bajor.

But when Sisko discovers the city of B'hala in 'Rapture', she is for the first time forced to accept the truth that he really hasn't been faking this whole "talks to the Prophets" thing- he's the real deal. We learn later on (when she tells "Anjohl" about how she honestly felt nothing the first time she saw the wormhole open) that a small, small part of her actually always doubted the existence of the Prophets. Now, she is faced with definitive proof that they are not only very real, but they also really do have a bond with Sisko. And for a while, she even comes to terms with this! In fact, at the end of the episode, she and Kira have possibly their first completely honest exchange:

KIRA: Maybe we're the ones who need to trust the Prophets. For all we know, this is part of their plan. Maybe they've told Captain Sisko everything they want him to know.  WINN: Perhaps. I suppose you heard that Bajor will not join the Federation today. The Council of Ministers has voted to delay acceptance of Federation membership.  KIRA: You must be very pleased.  WINN: I wish I were. But things are not that simple. Not anymore. Before Captain Sisko found B'hala, my path was clear. I knew who my enemies were. But now? Now nothing is certain.  KIRA: Makes life interesting, doesn't it?

Like, YASS babygirl- you too can learn to handle nuance!! I believe in you!!💪💪

And later on, at the onset of the Dominion War, she comes to Sisko for advice herself. She doesn't want to see her planet colonised again, and she's even willing to put aside her desire to be the main character to ensure it doesn't happen. Driven by pride and the need for power as she is, she is also driven by the desire save Bajor (and preferably be the one saving Bajor, which is the subsection of this desire that ultimately ends up being her downfall) - and she does briefly decide that cooperating with the Emissary is the best way to do this! I think about this scene from 'In The Cards' so much:

WINN: ... I have asked the Prophets to guide me, but they have not answered my prayers. I even consulted the Orb of Wisdom before coming here and it has told me nothing. So I come to you, Emissary. You have heard the voice of the Prophets. You were sent here to guide us through troubled times. Tell me what to do and I will do it. How can I save Bajor?  SISKO: You want my advice? Then this is it. Stall. Tell Weyoun you have to consult with the Council of Ministers, or that you have to meditate on your response. Anything you want, but you have to stall for time.  WINN: Time for what?  SISKO: I don't know. But I do know the moment of crisis isn't here yet, and until that moment arrives we have to keep Bajor's options open. I'm aware that this is difficult for you, given our past, but this time you have to trust me.  (Winn holds Sisko's left ear.)  WINN: Very well, Emissary. We put ourselves in your hands. May we all walk with the Prophets.

In the earlier seasons, Winn would often casually make claims that the Prophets had "told her" something, or that she was just "doing what the Prophets asked"- and her political position as Kai always allowed her to just lie about being in contact with them all the time. Now, you can see the sheer humility- the embarrassment, even- on her face as she (for the first time) openly admits to Sisko that she has never actually heard them speak before; and that they clearly "prefer" him. Yes, there's some (understandable imo) bitterness here- but not at him, at THEM. And when she tries to read his pagh at the end- something she probably does to dozens of people every day, most of whom would unquestioningly believe anything she declares afterwards- she doesn't even try to pretend she felt anything there. It's one of her most genuine moments in the whole show, you can just SEE the redemption arc in reach and it's so heartbreaking!!

I think 'The Reckoning' is a huge episode for her too, for many reasons- but let's talk about how it sets up this fascinating parallel between her and Kira (who Odo describes in this episode as having "both faith and humility"). The Prophets choose Kira as their "vessel" because she was "willing"- meanwhile, Winn was right there just begging to be a part of this! Here she is, with a Prophet right in front of her face- and she prays and postures and begs and prays some more, all just to get ignored. Kira's brand of faith is very, "I am ultimately insignificant and I surrender my power and my body and pagh to the Prophets"- Winn's is more, "if I do all the right things, then I will be able to prove to the Prophets that I am worthy of their attention, worthier than everyone else, and maybe then they'll appoint me the saviour of Bajor! It's My Destiny, You See!! (Why Isn't This Happening For Me??)" And the events of this episode are kind of a big slap in the face to her honestly, because they sort of prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Prophets have no interest in her. Maybe stopping the battle was also an attempt at regaining some kind of agency with them- I DID THIS, I pulled a switch and it had a direct effect on the Prophets, so there!! (Whatever that effect entails). She does care about Bajor. Of course she does. But her ideal configuration of Bajor involves her being a major player in its salvation, which she was just never meant to be. And this is why she's so tragically susceptible to Dukat's manipulation- he was the first person ever to tell her everything she always wanted to hear.

And the intriguing thing about Dukat's deception is, it doesn't all fall apart at one go. It falls apart in layers. And this makes for some excellent, excellent Winn characterisation imo.

First, she thinks the pah wraiths are the Prophets- and they tell her, hey, The Sisko has faltered, Bajor needs you, and only you can fix this. Good lord, imagine finally getting to hear those words after a lifetime of silence! And it's very telling that her first reaction isn't to gloat like she would've in the earlier seasons, but instead to humbly- even anxiously- pray. Bajor needs her, the "Prophets" have asked her to do something, this is her moment! Then, this random lovely Bajoran farmer comes in and tells her even more things she has always wanted to hear- that her activism during the Occupation (ignored by Kira and Sisko alike) saved lives, that he always wondered why the Prophets would choose an alien as their Emissary, that surely Sisko and his followers were mistaken- and finally, "our world will be reborn- with YOU as its leader". Sounds good, right? But THEN she finds out she's been speaking to the pah wraiths and the lovely farmer is a devil worshipper actually. And she tries the "wash away my sins" approach- she wants some kind of quick fix ritual that will "purify" her, so she can continue to be Kai the right way. She even admits to Kira that she's always been power hungry and she wants to change- and I believe her! Unfortunately, Kira then tells her something she doesn't want to hear- that she has to step down as Kai. And surely that can't be, right? She's the saviour of Bajor! She's so complex... it's not simply her love of power that this scene reveals imo, but more significantly, her inability to see herself as not a vital part of Bajor's history; of this whole larger narrative. Like-

WINN: I'm a patient woman. But I have run out of patience. I will no longer serve gods who give me nothing in return. "GIVE ME"!! ADAMI MY BESTIE MY GIRL MY BUDDY THEREIN LIES THE PROBLEM!!!

So, okay, fine, now she's swayed over to the side that maybe the Prophets aren't that great, and maybe the pah wraiths are the true gods of Bajor (because they were willing to talk to her), and maybe she's okay working with the devil worshipper. But then it turns out he's DUKAT- and at this point, she's literally murdered someone, she's ready to stop this, to go back to Sisko and set things right- but then the book of the Kosst Amojan lights up because of the blood she spilled. She did that. It happened as a direct result of her actions. She's just so desperate to be acknowledged... to have a role to play in all this, no matter who offers it to her. So the pah wraiths actually giving her a reaction isn't something she can resist. And here's where things get even more tragic.

WINN: But the prophecies! They warn that the release of the Pah wraiths will mean the end of Bajor.  DUKAT: The old Bajor, perhaps. But from its ashes a new Bajor will arise and the Restoration will begin.  WINN: Who will be left to see it?  DUKAT: Those the gods find worthy. It will be the dawn of paradise. And you, Adami, are destined to rule it.  WINN: You're sure of that?  DUKAT: It is meant to be.

Again with the ease at which she's swayed by fascist rhetoric! Let's be clear, she was (and is) absolutely against the Cardassian Occupation. But her worldview is built on the pursuit of being "worthier" than everyone else, of being "closer to god" than everyone else- her expectation of faith is that it's some sort of determiner of who's doing it The Most Effectively, rather than it being a practice- and she just completely misses that any sort of plan that executes masses and spares whoever is deemed "worthy" is... literally exactly what people like Dukat did to her planet. Something something faith as competition, faith as determiner of inherent superiority, faith as a way to gain power via proximity to god… never faith as submission. And the worst part is she’s self-aware. It’s heartbreaking.

And it's about to get even more heartbreaking, because she truly believes she has arrived at her girlboss moment in the finale (I think the tragedy of her being a rape victim and knowing this and having to hide the body of the one (1) person who was looking out for her while being stuck with her rapist speaks for itself.) After kicking Dukat out on the street (lol), she studies the eeevil texts and realises that to set the pah wraiths free, you need to make a sacrifice. So now she gets to deceive him in return. And she does! The look of shock on his face when he discovers she poisoned him is priceless imo, and her triumph as she taunts his dead body, the sheer joy on her face as she casts off her Kai robes, when she recites those incantations and something actually happens- and that too such a large pyrotechnic spectacle- is so sad knowing what's coming. Because ultimately, the pah wraiths want to destroy Bajor, right? And Winn just doesn't. Of course they don't choose her. Of course they choose Dukat over her! She really thought that by tricking and murdering him, she'd made him the unimportant piece of the puzzle, that she was stealing back his thunder- but tragically, it turns out even the pah wraiths see her as disposable. Of course they resurrect Dukat (a man who's proved time and time again that he wants to see Bajor & Bajorans destroyed) and turn her into the sacrifice. The way she screams "NO!" here breaks my heart- she's betrayed her planet, and it was all for nothing. (Dukat's "are you still here?" is particularly devastating.) I think it's very significant that her final words are "Emissary, the book!"- it shows that in her last moments, she's owning her mistakes- she's stepping away from power and putting Bajor first, and leaving her own fate in the hands of the Prophets. Who, of course, once again ignore her, and choose to save Sisko instead. God.

The utter tragedy that even in the pah wraiths' plan, she was just a pawn. That she died at the hands of the gods she thought chose her, but used her, all while the gods she'd coveted her whole life stood by and did nothing. The Prophets chose Sisko because they believed he would put Bajor's interests over even his own- and now they ensure he will be back one day to see the new Bajor. She never will.

Yes, it was her pride that got her here. Her mean streak. Her inability to cope with nuance. Her inability to see herself as ultimately insignificant. Her inability to surrender to a higher power in any way that didn't involve becoming more powerful herself; more relevant, more "close to god". But it was also her love of Bajor. Because if she'd cared about Bajor less, then maybe the pah wraiths might have chosen her- or at least spared her, or taken her to their realm after she burned, the way they did with Dukat. Now, she ends up being the one thing she never wanted to be: insignificant.

Honestly if I had to summarise the tragedy of her arc in one sentence, it would probably be Kai Winn: Too Evil For The Prophets, Not Evil Enough For The Pah Wraiths. She and Dukat are not the same! She is a perfectly pathetic, sad and wet blorbo and I am holding her gently in my hands while apologising for her crimes <3

[headspace-hotel]

a friend of mine said that the environment would be better if everyone lived in cities and basically left the rest of the natural world alone... i felt like there was something wrong with that argument but i really dont know enough about it to have a real point against it. i might be biased though cause i love being around nature and want to be able to live rural without killing the environment? idk im just wondering if she's right and how to live in a way that isnt negatively impacting the world

love your blog btw, it's been the thing that's helped me understand ecology for once

the idea that humans Are Bad for the ecosystem—not that particular activities or practices have particular negative effects, that just humans existing harms the environment—is in fact the worst idea ever

I mean, first of all, where does your friend think food comes from?

"Food" is one of the problems. It's one of a lot of problems. Some other problems include "all other natural resources besides food" and "human rights."

It's not just your friend, this kind of thing has been suggested in varying ways by self identified "leftists" a bunch of times, and I genuinely hope they're mostly random laypeople who can't really be expected to know more than they can learn from being terminally addicted to Twitter, because otherwise I will call them "dumber than a sack of hammers" in those exact words.

No offense to your friend. Your friend is a laypeople. And sadly, non-experts end up with ass-backwards ideas about how conserving the environment works, because of all this commonplace nonsense about humans being a cancer upon the planet. I'm not angry about those people, just sad.

But my serious answer is—The world's most intact and best managed ecosystems are found on land owned and managed by Indigenous people, who do what with the land?

LIVE ON IT.

And these groups of people learned to manage and care for the land how?

BY LIVING ON IT.

Conventional (white, Western) intuition holds that human management of an ecosystem should reduce biodiversity, but what science shows—I mean what study and observation and data and more study and more observation and more data shows—is that indigenous land management practices can do better than Nature can on her own.

I mean, for one thing, if you don't live in a place, you don't observe it every day. You don't see how the ecosystem and its inhabitants change over time. You can't learn about it, and therefore you don't know about it.

Disconnection from nature is ignorance about nature and ultimately apathy towards nature, and that's the worst and most disrespectful thing we can do.

And like I hope it's clear that even in the imaginary scenario where everyone lives in a city, even if this was possible (it's not), the city dwellers who are separate from nature are living a silly little lie. You're part of the ecosystem. Don't like it? Go become a rock in space.

The electrical signals moving through your brain right now are rays of sunlight that were soaked up by a plant that grew in dirt. Do you know fruit? Do you enjoy fruit? I enjoy fruit, I'm drinking a smoothie right now! That fruit y'all love so much was pollinated by a bug.

A bug did that for you! Because you're family! Because you're part of this world, because you belong to this intricate and ancient community of living things that need each other, that were shaped by evolution to need each other, and nature cannot abandon you.

But more on the cynical side of things, even if you don't know where the hell a berry grows or how, someone has to grow and harvest and ship that berry to you, someone who has to live somewhere, and you should care who is doing it and how they're being treated and paid, and ultimately you should want for them the same things you want for you.

Urban life is just rural life with extra steps my friend.

Like, @ all the "put everybody in cities" crowd, what is the plan here? Fancy ass indoor aquaponics systems notwithstanding, we're not technologically at a point where we can just, like, build giant multi-story factory buildings where we grow food under special lamps, and even being at that point wouldn't make it a good idea. With all the hype about solar power, you'd think people would look at plants (have been using solar power just fine for like a billion years) and think, "Neat how those things can just make food when you stick 'em in the sunshine."

I'm sorry, I'm never going to be psyched about technological innovations that are like "We took a plant and put it inside."

There is so much I could say here. The brainrot in the wake of "cottagecore" discourse where a bunch of well meaning white people got convinced that farming was racist. The idea that rural people are somehow more complicit in colonialism than urban people, and that rural land is, I don't know, landier than urban land, and the correct and moral thing to do if you live on stolen land is to....what? Live on land that has a protective layer of concrete in between it and your racist feet?

Land ownership is a whole fucked up beast, but you're not cultivating a non-exploitative relationship with land by living in a city. There's just extra steps in between you and the land.

"Homesteading" as seen on cottagecore boards on Pinterest has a lot of white supremacist wet dream mixed in, but listen: It is not only okay, but GOOD, to want to live in close relationship with the land, with the food you eat, with the trees and plants that fill your lungs when you inhale. It's IMPORTANT. It's VITAL.

What has to change is that this relationship can't be based on ownership and dominance. Ecosystem is community and that ain't it.

My ancestors were colonizers, the land I live on right now was violently stolen, the ecosystem that once was very carefully managed so that it flourished with life was ravaged, and I don't even know the names of most of the life-forms that ought to be here. What now?

You belong to the ecosystem that takes care of you. You can't wash your hands of this and run away.

I feel like I'm getting off topic, but it's very much on topic actually. What I hope for the future is that we would stop entertaining the silly little lies that imagine we can just...opt out of participation in something that is underneath our every footstep and in our every breath. It would make us feel pure, but it wouldn't be real.

I do think that forcing people off the land that is their home is bad, in general. I don't think those people have to be indigenous for this to be bad—and successfully claiming otherwise is a bit of conundrum, since as far as I know, the political and social phenomenon of indigenous identity has a lot to do with the being forced off your land thing.

Obviously people like me don't have the same deeply central cultural relationship to the land, but the "we should all just go live in cities and leave nature to itself" proposal implies that such relationships are unnecessary or even bad.

I've said this before but I find it weird when environmentalists accommodate indigenous ways of life in their visions of the ideal future as like...a special exception granted because it's like, the nice thing to do for a historically marginalized and violently oppressed group. Not because there is value or merit in those ways of life. Like "Oh I guess indigenous people should be allowed to hunt because it's part of their culture" ????? And it's part of their culture because...why?

Maybe because it's a sustainable way of doing things and has been for millennia???

Like don't listen to me, look at the research, indigenous folks participating in ecosystems and managing them worldwide know what they're doing and the rest of the world should be looking to them as examples. Key word here is participating, because you can't competently manage an ecosystem with your head all the way up your ass with the idea that you're somehow not part of it.

Humans aren't a cancer upon the planet. It's capitalism and colonialism. It's the practice of seeing the world as a disposable resource to be exploited.

Humans lived in the place I called home for 15,000 years. Within the past 200 years, almost every forest was razed to the ground, and almost every large animal extirpated or damn near to it.

"Humans" did that! These humans are so terrible!

But I have to remember.

There are descriptions of this place from before that, and they describe a lush, teeming heaven-like paradise that the adjectives provided by English trembled to capture, so perfect and bountiful that the observers assumed this land was never tainted by Adam's sin.

Humans did that, too.

[sassy-cass-16]

man. the locked tomb is so funny and so full of memes and so beautiful and sometimes it just hits me that it's also so fucking sad.

gideon and harrow spent their entire childhoods hating each other for no reason. they never had to hate each other. harrow had gideon's blood on her hands when she opened the tomb and lost her entire family and it was all for no reason. just because gideon had no one to stick up for her. and when they were both orphans they couldn't even talk to each other about it. because they hated each other.

gideon fell so in love with harrow that she died for her and then harrow spent an entire year pretending she didn't exist just so she wouldn't lose her forever. gideon literally tells harrow's story for her and takes such reverent care of her body for the short time she's in it. gideon first saw her own father through harrow's eyes and called him Lord.

and john. and john is terrible. and he is so human that he becomes terrible. he breaks down weeping because no one else in the entire universe will ever understand his jokes again. he lost everything and he is the only one who even remembers the thing that was lost. he is so completely ordinary that you almost feel like you can't blame him for everything he's done but he is terrible. he let his friends die over and over and over again and he wants to wipe everything clean and start over and he is a man who has gone so completely insane from loneliness that he's circled back around to seeming horribly normal.

he greets his daughter with a dad joke and names her as best he can and gives her a title and a body with speed holes that help her go fast. and he's not malicious. and he's not good. you can't even really call him a villain--what the hell else was he supposed to do? in any of these circumstances? but he is trying his best and his best is simply not good enough. the true horror of god is that he is just human.

all the lyctors. all the lyctors are a tragedy in their own rights. augustine and mercymorn are just the two examples that we know the most about, and their own god/father/brother/lover/beloved/teacher killed them both.

(admittedly, mercymorn struck first. admittedly, john was defending himself and his entire empire. admittedly, it was ianthe's choice to save john in the river that killed augustine. less than an hour before that, augustine was apologizing for raising his voice and john told him to have a cigarette and do you see what i mean about it being hard to blame john for anything?)

and the whole concept of the fourth house in general. we don't talk about that enough. that is almost an entire planet's worth of child soldiers, from what little information we have. what does it say about ulysses and titania that they were the ones to found that house? isaac was thirteen. jeannemary was fourteen. they were expected to become full lyctors before isaac's voice had even dropped. there was no way they could make it off canaan house alive. these kids were doomed.

protesilaus ebdoma had a wife and kids. his wife's name is mia and she probably has no idea what actually happened to him. same with abigail's brother and nephew. corona and ianthe's parents must be losing their shit--they think their eldest daughter is dead and their younger one is now a fucking Saint with a gold skeleton arm.

that's not even getting into alecto. or nona. or camilla and palamedes and paul. this series is so fucking sad even without getting into the revelation that all the lyctors are slowly merging with their cavaliers.

[bitchlessdino]

TPC: Seungcheol hot tub sexcapades

Series

Pairing: afab!reader x seungcheol

Genre: smut

Word count: 2.6k

tags: virgin!reader, mention of body image issues, mention of adult content, mentions of tresspasing, mentions of drinking alcohol, smut but not sex? nag!seungcheol, heavy making out, oral (reader rec.), fingering

Summary: At the grown age you are, you were very much ready to lose this social construct that is your virginity, and who better to lose it to than the hottest guy at the party.

author note: i haven't touched this in so long. Happy to have them back and with cheol of all people. hopefully finishing this soon bc it looks like I have another mile stone Im about to hit.

Tag list: @iwouldbangchan @1uvlywon @just-here-to-read-01 @candidupped @minnie-mouser22 @shiningstar-byulxx @90s-belladonna @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @lovelyhan

The only times you’ve cum were by the will of your own hand. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you are painfully a virgin.

High school wasn’t great to you and neither is college, but it came at a point in time you were ready to get it over with. God, did you sound like some cliche. Not any more cliche than this party you’re at though. Drunk, horny, high. Almost everyone there was one, two, or all of the above. 

You aren’t all that different. Especially after landing your eyes on possibly the best lay you could have. His eyes round like planets, shining brighter than any star in the sky. His hair is coiffed more perfect than the head of any Ken doll. And his lips, so naturally pouty and biteable, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip would taste sex alone. 

“Ooh, he's a good one. Nice eye.” 

“Em, I can’t,” you say, shaking your head at your friend. “Look at him. He’s too out of my league. What would I even say? Hey, you’re really hot, wanna take my virginity sometime? Are you kidding me?”

“Why the fuck not? You’re hot, he’s hot. You would make the hottest porno ever to exist—if that was your plan.” She adds that last part after seeing the panicked look in your eyes.

“Yeah,” You reply, rolling your eyes. “Hot stud steals V card from loser virgin.”

“There’s a market for that,” she nudges.

“Whatever. I’ll probably just look for someone more approachable.”

“Hey, the worst thing about coming up to him is he says he isn’t interested.”

“And how is that not at all traumatizing?”

“It’s life. Just be willing to walk through it.”

With a bit more convincing, somehow she’s managed to push you toward him. Your sneakers dragged against the floorboards, hands shaking in anticipation. In a split second, his bored gaze lands on you, and a chilling strike runs down your spine. It halts your step. Time slows down as the corner of his lips slowly turns up. His chin lifts up to greet you nonverbally, waiting for you to come closer.

You finally reach him, eyes following you like a hawk, you try to relax in his presence. Emphasis on try because besides the music, all you can hear is the pounding in your chest that travels to your ears. You release a shallow breath before saying “hi,” really wishing now you accepted that drink earlier when you arrived.

“Hi.” His voice was deep, yet mellow. “Having a good night?”

“I think so. You?”

“You can say that.” He briefly nods off to scan the party. “Could be better though.”

“How so?”

“It just,” he simply shrugs his shoulders, “could be better.”

You take a second to think about how you can turn this around in your favor. Strategizing happens to be one of your many amazing qualities. Like a light bulb appearing above your head, you remind yourself of the neighborhood you’re in and how familiar you are with it than you realize. “What if I told you I knew a place we can use a hot tub? No one home, all to ourselves.”

“I’d say, ‘hi, I’m Seungcheol. Pleasure to meet you. What’s this about a hot tub?’”

You make your grand escape from the party to take Seungcheol to a neighbor's house that you’re used to babysitting. As far as you know, they’re on a vacay to the Bahamas and won't be back until next weekend. That means you have all the freedom to hop over the fence to their backyard with an unlikely chance of getting caught.

“So, how do you know this place we’re trespassing?”

“I know the owners. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

You turn on the hot tub and watch as the bubbles start to form, your smile doing just the same. Your eyes shift from the water to him nervously. “Just takes a few seconds. Meanwhile…” Your fingers fiddle with the bottom hem of your shirt, raising it past your mid-drift. Your nails graze up your sides as your shirt is pulled over your head, revealing imperfect skin, an imperfect body, scantily clad by beige–your safe color–lace and ribbon. “We can’t get our clothes wet.”

It took time for you to give your body the love it deserves and some days you still feel it’s not worth it, but at the end of the day, you’re the one living in it. You had it only in yourself to love it the most, even if you made it the reason you’ve gotten this far without popping your cherry. Your worst critic would always be yourself, after all.

Even in this backyard, where Seungcheol can't even bear to tear his eyes away from you. He draws in a breath, quietly scoffing to himself as he outlines the shape of your body. To him, the evening air smells delicious with the addition of the view. And no, he wasn’t looking at the full moon tonight.

The sensation in his chest deepens when your shorts are released from their top button, falling to your ankles after the zipper is pulled down. “Well?”

He looks up after your eruption of giggles, watching as your toe is first to dip in the warm water. Inch by inch, your body gets submerged, raising your internal body temperature by several degrees. He breaks away from your gaze with a smug smile, finally removing articles of his clothes, starting with his shirt. 

An Adonis body perfectly matching his Adonis face. Chiseled all over, his muscles stood taunt on his figure. He joins, sitting across from you, sharing the heat of the surrounding water, now glistening his skin in the beautiful twilight. You could devour every inch of him.

“This is nice.”

“I told you. Would take this baby out when the kids I babysit are asleep. Let my mind go blank for an hour or two.”

He nods at that, silent after.

“This is actually the first time I brought someone, always too scared about getting caught on the job. Haha.” Why would you say that?

You shut your eyes in embarrassment but tried to get over the initial cringe of your words before changing the subject. “So, do you always follow strangers at the mention of a hot tub?”

“Not always, but I find it better not to question most things. More fun that way. Do you always lure strangers into intimate and private settings?”

“No, but so far I have no complaints.”

He gives you a closed-mouth grin, now making you wonder about the smile he’s hiding behind those lips. “Let’s hope I keep it that way.”

The air is thick with tension, even six feet apart from each other. Most men would pretend not to look, but not Seungcheol. His eyes stayed stuck to you, dark and stormy in stark contrast to the clear skies faintly illuminated by the lawn lights and barely there stars. You are almost sure he wants you at least a third as much as you want him, but he made no gesture in approaching you first, so you dangle yourself in front of him. 

Lifting off your seat, your breasts bounce up from the water it once floated in into the cool, crisp air. You saunter in his direction until you're mere centimeters away from him, supremely conscious of the pure sex radiating off his pristinely large build. “It’s gonna sound like a cliche, but I don’t do this kind of thing. I’m usually a by-the-books person.”

“What’s changed?”

Your hand reaches for his bicep, hard and pulsing under your fingertips, and you pull yourself towards him, knees bent on either side of his thick thighs until you're straddling him. Your eye level ascends until you’re looking down at him, his irises dilating once he sees you and feels your soft curves meet his deep hollows. “You look more fun than books.”

“So what, you’re gonna do things differently with me?” You feel the pad of his fingers ghost over your spine, shivers following, causing you to arch into him with a gasp. “I don’t know if I’m worth all that.”

Your hands trickle on the nap of his neck, threading in his dry hair, and excitement bubbles inside you. “The call I get to make.”

His lips, pink and plump, meet yours when you lean in. Like pillows, they cushion the impact and hug the curve of your lips before they start ebbing with carnage. His hands press into the solid of your lower back, fusing into like a tense thread has snapped loose. Your tongue beckons him for access, cheeks flushed against him. You whimper as he holds you tighter, his erection digging into your crotch, and you can somehow feel how wet you are. You’re wet all over from the water your party submerged in, but the lining of your warmth contains a more viscous fluid.

Eventually, Seungcheol pulls away, earning your bemused expression. “I’m not taking your virginity.”

“What?” You ask, shocked, backing away. “How—Why the hell not?”

“I overheard what you and your friend said. Not very subtle. As to why…you deserve better than that.”

You roll your eyes, “Ugh, you’re one of those guys. Remember that not everyone holds the value of sex to this same high standard.”

“But you do, given you feel so pressured to do it for the first time.” He lays an awkwardly platonic pat on your arm, discomfort apparent on your face, but he shows no sign of caring. “I’m not going to let you throw something…heavy away to someone you met—what, 15 minutes ago—to cater to a societal norm. Depending on the person, they would have hurt you. I could’ve hurt you.”

“Look.” Your hand presses against his bare chest. “I approached you. I chose you. Who I decide to have sex with is up to me. I’m grown enough to make that decision.”

“I’m not telling you to promise your body to someone you plan on marrying. What you deserve is to have it to be with someone special, at least someone you trust. Why would you let me even this close to you?”

You scoff. “You had no complaints when we were making out. So don’t use this generic ass excuse that it should be ‘special’ or someone I ‘trust.’ If you don’t want to sleep with me then don’t.”

“You don’t listen.”

“I’ve complied with most things in my life. This will not be one of them. Now, if you don’t want this, it won’t be you. I’ll move on to someone else…I’d just hoped it’d be you.” You lift yourself onto the ledge, only your feet in the water. “Seeing as this is going nowhere, thanks for wasting my time. Good kisser though. Three stars.”

You’re about to leave when his hand stops at your knee. You look down at him expectantly as he gets closer. “Stubborn too.” He stands in the pool to meet your eyes, lips pursed in an amused smile. “I followed you so no one else would. I plan to keep it that way.”

You raise a brow, unsure where your surge of confidence came from, finally feeling the tremble of your hand as it covers his. “What makes you think after this I plan on staying with you?”

“Because although I won’t be having sex with you, I can give you something just close enough.”

Now both hands are on your knees, lips colliding with yours once more, just as hot and sweet as the first kiss. You moan as his teeth dig into your bottom lip, his hands finding your unbreached heat. Then there's that familiar reflex of pulling away, the situation dawning on you now. You blink back at this beautiful man that takes your breath away just from his mere presence and get that same feeling every other time you come close. “Seungcheol…”

“You backing down on me, virgin?”

“Okay, that hurt.”

He chuckles. “I’m teasing, but not the kind I should be doing.” He lands a kiss on your nose. “I’ll be careful. If you let me, that is.”

“I am. You just make me really nervous.”

“I understand. I won’t do anything you wouldn’t want me to.”

You nod, a little too eagerly. “I want you. I-I’m letting you.”

“Good, then relax.”

He parts your legs further away, hand firmly pressed against your warmth, seizing the oxygen from your lungs, and he kisses you tenderly. Your hand clasps over his cheeks, deepening your liplock, and you feel the courage seep out of his fingers as they push aside your damp panties. His digits glide over your moisture, coating himself in the arousal built over your time together and you feel him smile against your lips. “That’s definitely not water, but I have a feeling you know that already.”

“More teasing?” You ask in a weak breath.

“I’ll make sure it’s worth it.”

He bows his head, his knees hitting the plastic bottom. His hands glide over your thighs, a tingling sensation follows its path. His kiss marks your skin in a way that wasn’t visible, only burning you with an unreplicable heat. His touch—gentle and firm—makes your head go to places you usually go to when you’re alone. His eyes tell you comfort and safety, but conflict with the glint of hunger that shines through.

He kisses the center of your folds, easing at you with light flicks of his tongue. Although delicate, it drives you insane, wanting you just to bury his face inside you already. Patience eventually rewards you as his tongue runs stripes over your bordering thighs—small jumps on your end—then your slit. He coats himself in your translucent nectar, sighing in your heat. Mewls then leave you like a nursery rhyme, haunting yet addictive. “Delectable just as much as you look.”

There’s a slow rise and drop of your chest watching him devour you. His lips purse to your core, darting in you to lap your insides, and you whine from his vigor. Your thighs press against his hot, red cheeks as water splashes around him. You shake—vibrate actually—speaking his name like it was the only thing that makes sense, and somehow you still feel how gentle he is with you. 

This stranger is meant to be a stranger, so why did he make you feel special?

With the curl of his fingers, they plunge in you, feeling how you pulsate around him as he sucks on your clit. You buck into his face, a wreck, hands glued to the edge of the tub in anguish. Your moans are a grand symphony on loop, the background music to the beautiful moment he’s savoring. How you gush feels him with pride, tightening his core as you push his head closer with your knees. “I-I’ma cum…”

He says nothing, only rummaging faster, deeper, holding on to the pace until his gums are filled with your climax, not minding how it makes him a mess. Your hips hit his face in an erratic beat, only settling down after he licks your thighs clean. You gasp in amazement, only for that gasp to be swallowed by Seungcheol as he sticks his tongue down your throat; you taste his promise.

You part in thick, glossy ribbons, eyes fucked from–you still can’t believe you’re saying this–orgasming by someone other than yourself.

“T-thank you,” you say with gratitude you conjured from the pit of your stomach.

“If you really want to thank me,” he leans in closer, “Let me take you out sometimes and I’ll let you experience it all over again.”

[withacapitalp]

Countdown Pt 2

Follow up to this thing I wrote yesterday

People always acted funny when they saw his timer. They usually reacted in two ways- either they tried to pretend that they didn’t see it, or they said how sorry they were. 

That’s not enough time. 

Oh I wish you had more time. 

Only a few days? I’m sorry honey. 

But Steve had never been upset about it. Sure, he only had less than a week with his soulmate, but that only meant that their time was more treasured. They understood that they had to make every second count. 

Wasn’t that a good thing? 

“You’ll understand someday, Steven,” His mother had said quietly into her wine glass one night when it was just the two of them at home. She was sitting on the couch, flipping through their photo album idly, holding Steve hostage with stories about how good things used to be. How in love his parents were, once upon a time. How happy they used to be before the job, before the promotion, before the big house in Loch Nora. 

(They really mean before they had him. Not that either of his parents will ever admit that) 

“You’ll understand,” She repeated in a whisper, taking another long sip. 

“What will I understand?” Steve replied. Usually he tried to stay as still and silent as possible on nights like these, did his best to pretend like he didn’t exist, waiting for her to finally wave a hand and release him to his room. But this time he didn’t get it. 

“You’ll understand that this? This is a curse,” She spat out, holding up her right arm and showing him her timer. All zeroes. His mother’s soulmate had died when he was ten, but her timer had counted down. She had met him at some point in her life though. She knew him, but she hadn’t lived a life with him. Whoever he was, he had died alone.  

Steve had always wondered about that, always wanted to ask. If she knew who her soulmate was, why not be with them? If she had found that person, why not make every second count? 

“It’s a curse,” His mother had said, continuing when Steve didn’t say anything in response, finishing what was left in her glass, “Especially yours. I remember the first time I saw your timer. It was right after you were born. I was holding you against me, you were so little then, so sweet, and I looked down, and I saw it. Five days. What kind of God would only give my baby five days? Not a good one,”

Steve wasn’t exactly sure what kind of God was out there. If he was being fully honest, he wasn’t sure he believed in God at all. 

He believed….in the universe. He believed in something linking them all, something that knew them and wanted them to find the person that completed their lives. The Universe knew that Steve and his soulmate were strong enough to handle five days, four hours, and twenty two minutes. That unnamed unexplained universe knew that they would know what to do with that time. 

Steve had plans for his five days, four hours, and twenty two minutes. 

When he found that person, the first thing he was going to do was hold them for at least five of those minutes. Steve loved hugs, and his parents hated them, but his soulmate would love them too. He knew that for sure. 

So a five minute hug, and then he’d ask where they wanted to go. The two of them would travel to wherever his soulmate wanted. Steve had the money, he’d been saving every single birthday and Christmas check he had gotten since he was nine. By now, it was more than enough for two tickets to anywhere in the world. 

They would spend the whole plane ride talking and getting to know each other. They would laugh, probably a little too loudly, and annoy everyone else around them with how infatuated they were with each other. 

Maybe they’d go to Paris. Stroll through the city, eat pastries, stuff like that. Maybe they would end up in some remote part of the world where it felt like they were the only two people on the planet.

Maybe they’d just stay in Hawkins. Hole up in his house, listen to records, swim in the pool, or lie in bed all day. 

A hug, possibly a trip, and after that it was up to his soulmate. Steve wasn’t going to monopolize their five days with just his ideas. He had a bunch of suggestions if they didn’t know what they wanted, but those were the only two things he really cared about. 

He didn’t hug his soulmate when they finally laid eyes on each other. Steve didn’t even realize his timer had started counting down. 

He was too busy thinking about the broken bottle being held against his neck. 

By the time he and Eddie both realized that their timers had started, they were already in the thick of things. Steve had seen it while Nancy was wrapping her sweater around his waist to try and stem some of the blood coming gushing out of him from the bat bites. He had put both hands in his hair just to try and give himself some other pain to ground with, and his timer caught his eye. 

It was already on three days. 

He had only met one new person in the last two days. One new person who always hid his timer under a leather cuff around his wrist. 

Steve did go through with his plans, but it was a funhouse mirror version of them, twisted and wrong. 

They did hug, but it wasn’t something soft or intimate. Eddie had woken Steve up from a nightmare on their second to last day, and Steve had laid in his arms shaking for two of their final forty eight hours. 

They did go on a trip of sorts, if stopping the apocalypse in an alternate dimension counted as a trip. They went, but they didn’t stay together. 

God, if Steve had a chance to do it all over again, he never would have let Eddie out of his sight. 

There was no avoiding fate, no changing what The Universe had planned. Steve has always been aware of that. He’s known that as fact his entire life. But still. Maybe things would have gone the way they were supposed to if they had been together. 

Because it was supposed to be him that died. 

His entire life he had known it was going to be him. 

Steve has imagined it a thousand different ways. A random heart attack, or a freak accident, maybe even saving his soulmate’s life somehow. He had never even thought to consider it might be his soulmate saving him instead. 

It was perfect. Dustin and Eddie would be far away from the danger, and Robin and Nancy were going to be just fine. Steve had no idea when it was coming, but it was going to happen in this final fight. They would win and he would have to do something stupid to make sure they did. Something off plan that would end up killing him. 

Except, he didn’t do anything that wasn’t in the plan. 

It went off without a hitch. Well, there was a pretty scary moment where there had been vines around his neck choking him, but the rest had gone exactly as they wanted it too. He and Robin had torched the monster, and then Nancy shot him in the head. 

Vecna was dead, burning to ash on the floor in front of them. They did it. They actually fucking did it. 

The elation of that was unlike anything Steve had ever experienced. The bone deep relief of knowing everyone he loved was finally safe, that this was finally over. That he had somehow lived to get to see it all. 

He had lived. 

He…..he was still alive. 

Steve hadn’t even thought to look down at his timer. He had been so busy just reacting, being in the moment of the fight. The fight was over. They had won. Everyone was safe now. 

Steve was still alive. 

He looked at his timer. All zeroes. 

How long had it been all zeroes? 

Steve took an experimental breath, and then another. Still breathing. Still alive. He looked down at his wrist. Still all zeroes. It was like he was looking at a puzzle with only one piece left, holding that last piece in his hand, but unable to make it fit for some reason. There was just something that was so wrong. 

There were two options when it came to Timers. You died, and your timer vanished, or your timer hit zero, and your soulmate died. There were two options. 

Steve had just never considered the other one. 

And by the time he ran out of the Creel House, it was already too late. Steve knew that. He was running anyway. He wouldn’t believe it until he saw Eddie for himself. His mother’s voice filled his ears the entire time. 

“You’ll understand that this? This is a curse,” 

Steve had promised himself he would never think about his timer that way. Promised that he would never be like his mother. 

But she might have been right about this. 

[sosa2imagines]

I had my dance and now I'm where I belong. Part 5

----------------------------------------------------- Warnings- Angst for Bucky, Fluff for all (This part will mostly focus on Bucky facing the consequences) ----------------------------------------------------- Part 6 -----------------------------------------------------

Saying yes to go on a date with Steve was the best decision of your life! On your first date he took you to an Italian restaurant and was the perfect gentleman, on your way you had notice few girls drooling over him trying to get his attention but he kept looking ahead and at you, ignoring everyone else. Like only you existed on the planet. Steve made you feel better, feel worthy of love again like there was a light at the end of the dark tunnel.

On the other hand ever since Bucky thought about you his head has not been in the right place. Sharon did finally showed up that night in a disheveled state hair a mess, lipstick all over her mouth but Bucky was too tired to notice, but that didn't stop Sharon from being mad at him for the mess in the room ignoring his painful state she kept the lights on purposefully to annoy Bucky which resulted in him sleeping on the couch, you would never do this to him he thinks about you again.

But that was just the beginning, they would have little and minor arguments here and there like any other couple would but than they turn into more serious and loud arguments. It was only few months into the relationship when the arguments started getting intense that led to resolving their issues by having make up sex and things would go back to normal for awhile. 

Even when some random girl would flirt with him Sharon won't confront him unlike you, again he compared you and her. Sharon had a simple solution for everything 'sex'. It would be a huge lie if Bucky said he was not getting fed of it. Sharon was in the mood but Bucky gently denied her instead suggesting her to cuddle and talk, naturally she scoffed still determined she cupped his dick but that only made Bucky yell at her "Can't you for once do something else other than sex?" Sharon removed her hand only to hit Bucky with the pillow which again resulted in him sleeping on the couch for god knows how many times in his own room!

That made him think about his situation relationship with Sharon. She knew Bucky was dating you, yet neither of them pulled away from the kiss and one thing led to another and Bucky slept with her for the entire trip. He knew he shouldn’t have continued things further with Sharon after that mission, yet the sneaking around gave him an adrenaline feeling, he enjoyed it. Their sneaking and love affair continued, at one point Bucky did find himself beginning to fall for Sharon and he was also beginning to be even happier with her. 

But than Steve came back, of course he beat him up and Tony did to but both of them said the same thing Sharon will screw this, but how? He started to miss out the little things like hanging out with his friends, enjoying movie nights, playing games, cooking, then he also started missing you the time spent with you how it was not just about only sex, you guys would cuddle, talk for hours without getting bored, go for long walks and help him whenever he had nightmares. Sharon eventually did helped him in the beginning but later on she started to get annoyed she would tell him to suck it up be man enough, on those nights he missed you and Steve terribly, you both would help him in unique ways that made him sleep peacefully.

But now those are only memories and now he lost his friends that are family along with you now he is living with just friends who barely talk to him. Somewhere deep inside he was realizing his mistake he was no longer enjoying infact he was suffering but his ego and pride was bigger at the moment to make him accept the truth.

Few days later few important CIA agents had come to work along side Shield and Tony was more than happy to entertain them especially one particular person 'NICK FOWLER' no one knew he was with the other agents. When Sharon saw the agents she knew instantly helping them would do wonders to her career. So she was casually chatting, flirting, all this was being witness by Bucky who was fuming smoke coming from his ears. He drag Sharon away from them to a corner she was quick to yank her arm away "What the hell are you doing?" She yelled at him "What I'm doing? what are you doing flirting with them?" "That's rich coming from you" "What's that suppose to mean?" "As if you don't flirt with others" "So is this payback?" "Oh honey I don't do paybacks now suck it up you look so cute when jealous" she patted his cheek and left. Their bickering did not go unnoticed by Nat who was smirking.

But Bucky went into a guilt trip as soon as he heard those words 'you look so cute when jealous' that's what he used to say to you whenever you would talk to him about his behavior, in that moment Bucky realized how you must have felt. He never even said sorry to you. Just then he saw Sharon again not just flirting but getting way to close for comfort. The way they were glancing at each other, the way his hand was roaming on her something, no not something, everything felt wrong. "That's Nick Fowler" Tony cuts his train of thoughts "What?" Bucky asks in confusion "CIA agent Nick Fowler, rest of the agents will head back but he is going to stay for a day or two" Tony smiled. "Rogers hates him if he was here that man would have been dead." Tony adds more to Bucky's confusion. "Why?", "Hmm" Tony acts like he thinking smirking he shrugs "Ask Capsicle, a little friendly advice though, keep an eye on those two Cap was lucky not so lucky can't say the same about you" "Wait, what?" Before Bucky can ask anything Tony was gone.

Back at home after another awesome date- "You are quiet today" he asks playfully "I'm thinking" "Can I know what are you thinking about?" You nod looking at the ground blushing hard "I think I'MFALLINGINLOVEWITHYOU" in one breath you confessed what Steve was dying to hear. Steve literally choked on air you had to pat his back "Jesus I didn't know you would react this way, are you okay?" "No I mean yes what did you say? slowly please" You wide your eyes closing them taking a deep breath opening again you look into his eyes "I love you Steve" you tell him pressing your lips back to his. Steve made you feel safe, feel like he would never hurt you in anyway, especially in the way Bucky did. Unlike with Bucky, being with Steve felt secure. There was no doubt that he would be a loyal, loving man.

Ever since Nick Fowler had entered the Tower Sharon was spending more time with him. Bucky was losing his patience. She was hardly with him. Bucky even tried to lure her with promise of a mind blowing sex but she just pushed him away saying she is busy working. "Hey man how does it feel?" Sam asks enjoying the frustration of Bucky. "What do you want?" Bucky asks him clearly annoyed "Y/n felt same when you ignored her only difference is she was not cheating on you" Sam furrowed his brows trying to put some sense into Bucky's brain. But before Bucky could say anything the elevator door opened revealing Sharon and Nick giggling, random blabbering and holding hands. Sam whistled and left the trio alone.

"Where were you?" Bucky barks anger clearly visible, Nick just smirks he hugs Sharon and not so gently squeezes her waist giving Bucky a look and heads towards his room. "What was that?" "What was what Bucky what's gotten into you? We just went out for dinner", "For four hours?" "We lost track of time, aww are you angry? baby you look so cute when you are jealous" again those words something snaps in him he drags Sharon to their room pushes her against the wall he tears apart her shirt and before he can proceed he stops. "What are these?" he asks pointing his finger to the marks on her neck and collarbone. Sharon looks in the mirror and all the color drains out from her face. Bucky's mind flashed him the image of Sharon's disheveled face from many nights ago. "GET OUT!"

----------------------------------------------------- Part 6 ----------------------------------------------------- TAGLIST- @differenttyphoonwerewolf @nouk1998 ----------------------------------------------------- (Hey lovely people why do you think Steve hates Nick? Hope you all enjoy this part finally Bucky getting what he deserves, I know I have dragged it long but I really don't won't to make the parts way too long to read. As always feedback is appreciated lots of love to you all 😁❤️. Sneak peek- Since I dragged it too long, Sharon will be kicked out tomorrow but she will ask someone else to help her and someone else of that some else will slap her 😂) -----------------------------------------------------

[suzukiblu]

I know it's totally wrong for what you're shooting for but your stories make me feel bad for Clark. All these folks judging him, when as far as he can tell Kon doesn't even want to be around him. And honestly, he's had clones before. No one expected him to mourn when a Bizarro degraded

. . . okay, friend, first off I apologize, because I def got carried away with this response and it turned into a bit of a rant, hah. Please don't take any of this the wrong way or get the impression I'm annoyed by this ask or anything, I just fundamentally disagree with SO many things about how Clark's relationship with Kon has been handled in canon and apparently I had to word-vomit a lot of that out here and now in explanation of why I tend to write Clark as being Objectively Wrong about Kon/how he treats Kon.

A) There's no convincing reason I can think of that Clark should think Kon doesn't want to be around him, and if he DID, why would he have given him permission to wear the El crest to begin with, much less offered him either the name "Superboy" or "Kon-El"? Especially Kon-El, because that's a name that originated from a specifically ADOPTED member of his birth family, and Clark offered it to him while CALLING him family, but also . . . lying to him about having a secret identity? And whole-ass other life??

and also

B) I actually WOULD expect Clark to mourn a Bizarro degrading. That's like his whole deal, in my experience of him across various media: Clark Kent is a person who thinks that every person matters and is undeniably the kind of guy that would be upset by someone suffering from genetically-inevitable degradation. Especially if the people suffering that degradation only exist to suffer it because HE, Clark "I Am Personally Responsible For This Whole Damn Planet, And Yes That IS A Threat" Kent, exists.

Like, Clark always takes way too much on himself. So it doesn't really make sense to me that a dude like that would take one look at a kid with his own face who is actually at best about a month old and just decide "yeah, this person doesn't need me ever involved in their life at all" and STICK with that assessment even through repeated problems, near-death experiences, and straight-up disasters. ESPECIALLY because Clark already knew Matrix, and she was ALSO a genetic experiment who'd been made in his image by someone he didn't have any reason to trust. But he still took Mae to his parents' farm and let her live there pretty much immediately, trusted her with SO many of his secrets and even trusted her living with his parents without, again, having to jump through ANY of the MULTITUDE of hoops that Kon did to earn a similar level of trust, and she eventually started dating literal LEX LUTHOR and Clark still trusted her after THAT!

( I mean, I think everyone thought Lex was his own son at the time or something weird like that, Because Comics, but still! STILL!! )

Shit, Clark still trusted Mae after she had a mental breakdown ON HIS PARENTS and tried to attack him and had a severe enough psychotic break that she thought she literally WAS him! Mae very quickly proved herself to be WAY more dangerous and hostile than Kon has EVER been outside of being directly mind-controlled, but from the jump Clark is way more invested in her and her life and CARES way more about her and her life. And later he responds to Kara just as differently as he did Mae, despite her ALSO debuting as both a more dangerous and more hostile person than Kon. So like . . . there's a bit of a double-standard going there, it kind of feels like? Like, at least on a meta-level. And I'm sure most of it's editorial nonsense and the kind of narrative problems that lie inherent in like . . . what, thirty-plus years of comic history and about eight bajillion different writers and the like, obviously, but it just is REAL hard to justify that behavior in the actual narrative when Clark Kent is meant to be the moral paragon that the entire damn rest of the DC universe is meant to set its metaphorical watch by.

Either way, though, I'm usually trying to write Clark as either sympathetic or at least understandable in his logic, even when it's flawed, so I wouldn't really say it's "wrong" if you feel sympathy for him while reading my writing. Like, I'm not saying he's in the right in those specific fics, but I do still want to be empathetic to his point of view. It is again just REALLY hard for me to explain a lot of Clark's canon relationship with Kon in any way other than "benign neglect due to just deliberately assuming that all Kryptonians are always Perfectly Fine, Thanks due to his own personal issues about what 'Superman' represents", and that's the KIND option.

Long story short, I really just don't care what DC says, It is NOT on the brand-new teenager with zero life experience who Clark deliberately LET put an S-shield-shaped target on their back to single-handedly foster a relationship with the perfect superhero idol that most of the damn world looks up to. I genuinely cannot think of a single significant occasion where Clark ever does anything for Kon that involves CLARK having to put in any kind of recurring effort, but we're supposed to accept that KON has to earn scraps of Clark's attention and the right to be considered a part of his family over and over again--while Clark, again, doesn't have to do anything to earn Kon's attention or the right to be considered a part of HIS family? Ever? Even ONCE??

Relationships are two-way streets, DC! That's just how relationships are, DC!! Otherwise it's just parasocial bullshit or someone taking advantage of someone else, DC!!!!

Don't get me wrong, I really love Clark, I think he's a great character in a lot of fascinating ways and that he is VERY interesting and affecting when he's done well ("you can do anything you want, and all you want to do is help people" HELLO CRYING IN THE CLUB RN), but like . . . come on, DC, what the fuck and WHY?

[star-girl69]

Cruel World

Shin Hati x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: hi everyone and welcome to the first chapter! as i mentioned, i’m just getting into star wars so i will get some things wrong!! i don’t know all of the lore yet, so please feel free to tell me something i missed! i hope you all enjoy!!

also, i took a little bit of creative liberty here regarding the nightsisters of dathomir, so don’t be surprised!

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of death, imprisonment, swearing, mentions of insanity, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter One - Sweet Long Nights

Chapter One - Sweet Long Nights

—-

The Empire had fallen only a few weeks ago. You and mother had been holed up in some small planet, some small shack, waiting, biding your time.

Your mother said she just needed a second to think. To figure out some sort of direction, something. There had to be something she could do, to restore the power that had been taken from her.

And in the darkness of the night, while the wind blows dirt and dust through the small holes, a voice calls to her.

Thrawn will bring the Empire back. Thrawn will bring your power back. If you can get to him.

—-

Before the world had shown you cruelty, you had never known it. You lived in a lavish home on a tropical planet, far away from any prying eyes. Most people didn’t even know you existed, the elusive whispers of Morgan Elsbeth’s daughter, always destined to remain shrouded in secrecy.

You had tutors to teach you the fine arts of the most important planets, the politics of the Empire, language and math- but the really important lessons, the true power, was reserved for your mother.

She taught you not only about power in terms of what it meant to everyone else- but what it meant to the two of you. Descended from the Nightsisters of Dathomir, you were called witches, sisters, ladies of pure darkness.

And over the years, the bright green energy that bursted from you hands turned to uncontrollable surges of power into something that felt like it was yours. Your power. Something only you could control.

Then, the Empire fell. All of your mother’s assets were stripped away, including your beautiful home, all of your tutors, and everything you had ever known.

Adjusting was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. And you did it, missing the comforts of home all the while. It was something inside of you, a gaping hole, pure darkness that you apparently rule over- but it really rules you over.

That same darkness is inside your mother.

You both want that life back. You both need that life back.

There are black holes inside of your chests, and they need to be filled and filled with power.

The pursuit of your old life has led you here.

The room is metal and dark, shackles twist around your arms. You sigh, trying to find a comfortable spot on the metal bench made into the wall, but you can’t.

You miss softness.

“Are you sure this guy is going to come?”

Your mother looks away from the still closed door and to you, remnants of a true mother-daughter relationship on her face.

She cares for you. She just cares for power more. But as long as you have the same goal- you are her and she is you. One in the same. Mother and daughter.

“Yes,” she says, simply, and it seems like there is no more room for argument. “He’s a mercenary. And I paid him well.”

You shoot her an unimpressed look, but in your heart, you know this is the best she can do.

Her composure softens ever so slightly.

“I know,” she says, almost motherly, almost comforting. “I know it’s hard. But the path to power is a hard one, my daughter. We wouldn’t have come this far if we weren’t truly made for it.”

You smile, awkwardly, an acknowledgment of her words, and her lips press together tight, returning the awkward grimace.

The minutes pass by in silence, and you mother stares at her hands in her lap, shackled, and you stare at your own. You flex your fingers. No green sparks from your fingertips.

“Fucking weird-ass rocks,” you mutter, tempted to bang your hands into the wall over and over again until the power-dampening shackles snap off. You doubt they will, but who will blame you for trying?

You heard stories from your nanny’s when you were younger- one of them even descended from the Nightsisters as well. Her bloodline was much younger, much weaker, but she could still entertain you with small tricks and stories she had heard.

She told you that without their power, Nightsisters fell into madness. They would rake their hands down their face, rip their hair out. Away from their home planet, from the magic in the ground, they would slowly lose themselves.

Your mother had prevented that.

After the massacre of the Nightsisters, her and a few others had done powerful magick that you couldn’t even dream of. They had taken ichor from the planet, condensed it, and cut open their chests to rest the stone inside their rib cages.

You had been cut open while you were still a baby, but the stone still rested inside of you.

You look back up towards the closed door. You look towards your mother. And you look up towards the sky and say a prayer to the Winged Goddess.

Then, you can hear something. It’s faint. But it’s the sound of bodies falling, a lightsaber swishing through the air.

The sounds grow louder, accompanied by guns, bullets, one after another. Your mother remains apathetic, a blank, waiting look on her face. She says she isn’t capable of looking into the future- but you often wonder if somehow she is.

You take your seat next to her, shifting anxiously, trying to look as neutral as your mother.

The lock clicks, and the door opens, retracting upwards.

A man waits in the doorway, illuminated by the bright white hallways, dressed in all black. He reaches up and pulls down his hood, revealing a pale face and a full, gray beard.

Your mother stands up, holding out her chained arms.

He points, gestures, and they snap off. You watch your mother rub her wrists, before she turns to you.

You snap out of your amazement.

You lock eyes with the man before you, and he does the same thing, and your shackles fall off. Immediately, you can feel it under your skin. The power. The one from your ribs, passed down through the Nightsisters.

“Baylan, you are true to your word,” you mother commends, the highest compliment she could ever give.

He nods his head slightly. “And well paid for it, Lady Morgan.”

He reaches his hand out, and you stand, rolling your wrists, flexing your fingers, tempted to let green sparks jump out.

Your mother steps forward, and he helps her step over the threshold, then takes your hand and helps you step over it as well.

“Lady Y/N,” he says, and you don’t dare say thank you- because your mother didn’t. And she never would.

She walks briskly, and you find your way next to her, Baylan quick behind the two of you.

“The Jedi who captured me seeks the map.”

Your mother had only basically explained what the map was, how it will lead you to Thrawn, the other galaxy he is mysteriously trapped in. You know it was enough to imprison you over.

“She knows about Thrawn.”

“Who is this Jedi?” Baylan asks, a bit of arrogance creeping into his voice- he is better than whoever, surely. You’ve heard her name a hundred times before. Your mother cursed it when they locked you up.

She looks at you.

“Ahsoka Tano,” you hiss, sparks crackling at the ends of your fingertips. An enemy of your mother is an enemy of yours.

—-

The three of you board the ship in the dock, and as Baylan sits in the captains seat, you expect him to close the doors and take off. Your mother next to him, you behind her, an empty seat next to you.

But he doesn’t. He waits, until you get bored and anxious to get off this ship.

“What are we waiting for?”

He doesn’t look at you. Your mother taps her fingers against her seat.

“My apprentice.”

Footsteps echo up the ramp, and you turn around in your seat, only to find a girl, about your age, with chin length light blonde hair, and a spot of blood on her cheek.

Her eyes meet yours. She stops and stares at you, and all you can do is stare into her bright blue eyes, wide and rimmed with black makeup.

You’ve had lovers before. Weak humans with no powers, just servants in your home or the neighboring ones. But the lightsaber on her hip makes your heart skip a beat. She makes your heart skip a beat, and you stomach flip, and you can’t even feel stupid for the feelings in your body.

She nods, sitting down next to you, and you look her up and down, her armor, the spot of blood on her chin, the small braid resting on her shoulder.

The doors click up, and you can’t take your eyes away from the blood on her cheek. Finally, she looks back at you as the ship lifts up, seemingly a little confused and offended, glaring right at you.

“You have blood on your cheek.”

She looks down and wipes her cheek with her hand, smearing it, and she looks at the blood on her palm.

“Hm,” she says, no expression on her face, and you smile.

—-

That night, on your own ship, your mother asleep in the room next to you, you stare at the ceiling and think of your blonde savior. And you think about the way that if you focused, you could hear her heart speed up as she looked at you, and you could see her pupils dilate.

It’s a sweet long night thinking of her.

—-

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[artist-issues]

What are the best stories you've seen that have a theme of forgiveness? If not strictly about forgiveness, then any themes along the lines of retribution, redemption arcs, or even "seeing through another's eyes" (I may or may not have rewatched Brother Bear recently lol)

Well, we’ve got all my old standbys. Cinderella, of course, is a story that really has forgiveness in it, because Cinderella wholeheartedly forgives her stepfamily for mistreating her. (Actually, she might be “forbearance,” not forgiveness.) But they’re completely off her hook. I think there’s a really great moment of forgiveness between Nick and Judy in Zootopia that gets overlooked. Frozen, with Anna and Elsa. Brother Bear is a really great example, truly! I love that movie.

I think some of my other favorites include the original A Star is Born, or even the Judy Garland remake. (Those also might be more “forbearance.”) I think one of the best examples I ever saw of forgiveness was in Avatar: the Last Airbender, which everybody knows:

And of course, ‘Til We Have Faces and The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis have some of the best-distilled forgiveness moments in any stories, ever. There are sweet ones in The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald, too, though they’re not as dramatic. In Anne’s House of Dreams, by L.M. Montgomery, Anne’s repeated forgiveness of Leslie’s coldheartedness or rudeness is a really simple but awesome example of day-to-day forgiveness.

I don’t easily think of a lot of good examples of it in stories. Brother Bear definitely has it, because without it, the story doesn’t work—Sitka wouldn’t help Kenai to learn from his wrongs, Kenai would’ve been killed by Denahi, Koda would’ve been left alone—but I don’t think forgiveness is the main focus of the movie. I think it’s a load-bearing component, but not the focus.

You’re making me want to see a movie that really homes in on that!

The thing is, I guess, for forgiveness to be the focus of a movie, there has to be a character that 100% definitely does the complete wrong, inexcusable thing to another character. Something that he deserves to be on the hook for. Then he has to acknowledge that he did the wrong thing and want forgiveness. And then the other character, the one who was wronged, has to willingly acknowledge that wrong and then let the offender off the hook. It’s not just “we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.” It’s both parties acknowledging that wrong was done, and having an exchange that ends in reconciliation. It’s got grace and mercy wrapped up in it.

Not many movies have true moments like this. Usually, one character is super sorry and the other character just seems to brush off whatever they did with like, a callback to an inside joke or something. (I’m thinking if Treasure Planet, to be honest.) Or, the situation necessitates that they put their conflict aside and work together, and then after the day is saved they sort of “get over” all that and swagger off into the sunset together.

As far as “redemption” goes—gee, all the old standbys! All the ones I mentioned above, plus Star Wars, plus East of Eden (the movie, not the book) plus, of course, my all-time favorite movie, Lilo & Stitch.

In Lilo & Stitch, you have the ugly little creature who belongs absolutely nowhere, is by definition a blight on nature and an abomination of existence, who was actively created to ruin everything. And he does it, and he takes delight in it. But there’s this little girl who gets pushed down, gets her doll chewed on, gets rejected when she’s most in need of his companionship—and she just keeps on loving him anyway. Because she’s chosen to, not because he did anything to deserve it. And then that infects him. That idea of family—of someone choosing to love you, no matter how ugly you are inside and out, and by choosing to love you, they create a place where you belong. No matter what. And that changes him. A germ from outside of him changes him from a literal world-destroying, home-shattering selfish monster into something new, something adopted, something loved.

I’d call it a story about committed love and grace, not necessarily redemption—because the focus of the story isn’t really “Stitch does something wrong but then through a process of pain and transformative struggle, redeems that wrong.” That’s not the focus of the story. But it’s still “bad character becomes good.” And I can’t help but talk about Lilo & Stitch once you get me started on it, sorry!

I think the best redemption stories are some of the ones I’ve listed above, plus East of Eden, Beauty & the Beast, and really, truly Sydney Carton from Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities.

And I think Kylo Ren was well on his way to being one of the best redemption stories of all time, if TROS hadn’t fumbled the ending so clumsily—but that’s another post for another time! I don’t know if this satisfactorily answered your question, but it was fun to ramble about and I’ll tag you if I make another post as more come to mind.