#still funny how I spend so much time thinking about shows like Death Note

[darklight-owl]

Writing the first fanfiction I've written in like 6 years. Plvspw what have you done to me.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!

I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3

Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara. 

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao

warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13

wc: 3.5k ish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.

Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things. 

Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax. 

Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration. 

It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers. 

"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler. 

"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."

Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words. 

"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers!  How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?" 

"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"

"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!" 

"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."

"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."

"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling. 

"I could do this all day, princesa. " 

You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure. 

~~~

You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit. 

You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive. 

He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time. 

You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far. 

That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him. 

You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.

"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar. 

"You okay?" 

He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you.  "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all." 

You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."

He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."

"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."

~~~

As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two. 

Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand. 

Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over. 

It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you. 

You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.

You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.

You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass. 

It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder. 

"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?" 

You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink. 

"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar. 

He stretches out his hand, and you take it. 

"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."

Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words. 

"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"

"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish. 

"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck. 

"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."

The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do. 

And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him. 

Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you. 

~~~

He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.

You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.

He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer. 

He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in. 

You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness. 

"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him. 

You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension. 

You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip. 

"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck. 

He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders. 

He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out. 

"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper. 

Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."

The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile. 

You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face. 

~~~

It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more. 

He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words. 

Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is. 

He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate  all your needs. 

When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order. 

So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk. 

He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach. 

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -" 

"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains. 

You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary. 

"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?" 

Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-" 

"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious . 

"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body. 

"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something. 

You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up. 

He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?" 

You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression  is steady, just as unreadable. 

"Do you want to?" 

You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over. 

"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me." 

You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust. 

"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod. 

Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man. 

You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper. 

"Fuck, Miguel." 

"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot. 

You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares. 

"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans. 

"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."

His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters. 

" M-Miguel …"

He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm. 

" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?" 

You nod frantically with a stifled sob. 

"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."

"...fuuck you."

" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."

"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.

"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."

" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please." 

"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?" 

"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks. 

He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers. 

You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath. 

"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."

You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought. 

You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy. 

He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum. 

Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago. 

"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process. 

"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?" 

"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."

All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles. 

"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa." 

_

_

_

[writella]

Reckless Romantics

Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.

Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music lover— any kind of music you like— but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofread— will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).

A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goals— time got away from me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know it’s always true.

— with love from writella, my beautiful reader. ♡

Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.

My mercy prevails over my wrath, he’d say— his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others did— admired, applauded, stuck by him for it— it would be a lie to say that he didn’t take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldn’t fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.

So why couldn’t someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?

As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldn’t fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.

From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all you’ve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.

This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, although— maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybe– sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.

Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the same— they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didn’t always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishaps– (it’s the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)— to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A band’s frontman.

“So, what about you?” One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. “Which one do you like?”

“They’re all attractive guys,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road. “But I don’t really think about them like that.” You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.

“Come on,” she prods. “You never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.”

“Whose us?” Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. “I don’t talk about that shit.” But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.

“I don’t laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.”

“But what I’m saying is that I didn’t let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,” the girl jokes half-heartedly.

“What do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because I’m the one with the CDs.”

And it’s true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girl’s room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girl’s room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discovery— the find of all finds— was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.

You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the band’s history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you weren’t listening, that’s what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the town’s music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.

Except for now.

“Well, if I had to guess,” the girl persists despite your silence, “I think it would be Rick.”

“What?” Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, “Why Rick? Everyone likes him.”

Rosita sends a look your way. It’s innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.

“Exactly,” the girl says. “He’s a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like he’d talk you through it, which I think would be good for— someone like you.”

Your face is on fire, you can’t even speak properly. “I- first of all, what do you know about my experience?” you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, “Second, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?”

Oh—

That makes car goes quiet.

You know you made a mistake.

You didn’t mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didn’t apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. It’s not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rick’s curls are, how he doesn’t have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him.

Right?

Maybe it doesn’t matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you don’t get close to them. And it didn’t matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.

Right?

Anyway, let’s get back to your crass… joke.

“Hilarious.” Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.

“That was ages ago though,” the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, “and he did it to help her. He didn’t care about the mess he made. He save her. I’d say that’s pretty romantic.”

“Let’s not call that romantic,” Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. “That wasn’t love.”

“That was reckless, not romantic.” You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

But after that day, it was all you could think about.

The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that he’d send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.

These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.

Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyone’s? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if you’d like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasn’t just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peer— at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But it’s not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didn’t get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldn’t have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and she’s tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you can’t help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didn’t make you feel like the childish little sister others do.

Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But then— it all caught up to you.

Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.

And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than that— he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.

You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didn’t. He hasn’t spoken to you in almost three weeks until—

“Woah-” you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.

“Sorry,” you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. He’s still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.

“Hi,” you whisper tentatively.

“Good morning,” he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You don’t miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesn’t miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.

“Good morning,” you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.

“Good morning,” he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.

“Oh wait— is the leader’s meeting here today?” Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, “I totally forgot! I’m sorry. I know I should be gone by now.”

He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I was just going to the bathroom.”

“Here? Was someone in the one downstairs?”

“Just wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didn’t see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.”

You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying you’ll sound immature or stutter in front of him. “I'm sorry,” you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: “I know you’re busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?”

Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closet— you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.

Rick doesn’t question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much you’ve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? It’s like you haven’t felt him in ages.

“What were you playing today?” He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rick’s legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.

“Selena. Rosita loves her. It’s one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.”

He nods. “I probably wouldn’t understand a bit of it,” he laughs.

He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you don’t. There is a silence that follows until you ask, “So,” starting slowly, “what’s wrong? Is Daryl aright?”

He doesn’t answer. His mouth is open as if he’s deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, “You know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.”

The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appear— a quiet laugh. “Well you know I’d never want to make you sad. Especially not you.” You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. “We’ll be fine,” he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, but— he knows he doesn’t want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldn’t after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you what’s happening: “Daryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how he’s always going out there. But I think it’s way too soon.”

You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. “I think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,” you suggest.

“I know,” he nods a bit annoyedly; “and that’s a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethin’ he can be so damn stubborn. It’s frustrating. He won’t compromise or listen to anything.”

Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like he’s describing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.

“And,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldn’t tell you what he’s about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glenn’s arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought ‘em, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.”

You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. “Wow,” is all you can get in before he speaks again.

“Imagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldn’t even meet him?” Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. “It was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on what’s inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.”

Your eyes remain wide, “We did so much rebuilding you.”

“We did complete rebuilding.” He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: “I think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I must’ve hurt him,” Rick realizes, “and now he definitely won’t be back today— maybe not even until next week.”

A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things you’ve never dealt with. You didn’t want to say something stereotypical.

“I’m sorry I’m putting all this on you.”

“No, no,” you quickly console, trying to think. “Um, well,” you say, starting unsteadily, “this is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I don’t even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?”

“I do,” he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:

“This is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t those two hate each other?”

“I mean, yes— but it’s much more complicated than that to me— but no, I don’t mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I don’t remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because they’re brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, but…” you trail off.

He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like you’ve gone too far. It’s all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to what’s going on that you’re even confusing yourself a little. “I think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think that’s like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But there’s still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like I’m sure you already know and I didn’t even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life you’re trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.” You laugh small and breathily as you end. “That probably didn’t make sense.”

Rick smiles to himself. “I didn’t get that first bit, with the quote, but no… that made a lot of sense to me.” He nods toward you and you return his smile. “You’re so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.”

This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: “May I, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: “yes.”

Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. You’re slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftly— worried you’ll lose your confidence, worried he’ll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you don’t know. But you’re sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.

Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also weren’t.

Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, “I liked that,” he says softly.

“You did?” You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.

A short, airy snicker comes out, “Mhm,” he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.

“Can I… try it again?”

Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. “Yeah,” he nods, voice gentle. “Do you want me to help?”

You nod before you speak, happily accepting, “Yes.”

He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesn’t notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smile— the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.

Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, “Come here.”

You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.

“You want to try this time?”

“Uh,” he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but you’re afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, “Yes, okay.”

So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. “Sorry,” and quickly he responds that it’s okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.

You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.

Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. “Wait,” you say, “I like this.” You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. “But… there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay,” his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, “What it is?”

Another pause. “I feel nervous,” you whisper.

“You have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”

You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.

He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.

“Well, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,” you stutter, “I want to pleasure you. If that’s okay. And I was wondering if you’d teach me how- to touch you here.” You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.

Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.

This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didn’t expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. “I feel like I took advantage of you last time.”

“Rick…” you shake your head. “I’m the one who didn’t close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everything…” You start to worry— is he second guessing everything now?—“I feel maybe we remember this differently.” You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.

Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before.” His thumb sways on your skin. “I just don’t want you to end up feeling like you’re wasting your time. Your first times.”

You’re surprised, “It’s so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you don’t think you’re good enough.” You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. “I like you. So much.” You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. “No one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you know— she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just don’t. I don’t have my person, or any person.” You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. “You’re kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me… “ If your face could get any hotter, it does, “And, well, you’re very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.”

God… Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situation— and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying to— would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose that’s one for widower’s wisdom.

Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. “Remember when I did this the first time?”

A smirk came on, there’s the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.

“Yes,” you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, “Should I start taking this off too?”

“Mm, stay like that.” He’s taking off his belt. “Thought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.”

Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.

As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didn’t realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happens— although it’s only been twice— and each time he talks to you— which has been plenty— you steal a little more of Rick’s heart and he just can’t stop it.

“So,” he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, “you usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.” He shakes his head, “there’s not too much too it but it’s best to keep your hand light at the start, you—”

You nod quickly, “May I?”

As he nods back you, “Yes.” And as he says it you’re already licking your hand.

“Is it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?”

He’s caught off guard, “No, no, that helps.”

So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but you’re a little scared to speak up that way just yet and you’re too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how he’s so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a little— testing it out to see what happens—and he groans, unadulterated this time, “oh, fuck.”

The heel of your foot that’s under your lap pushes into your center at that.

You start pumping faster. “Am I doing good, Rick?”

Hearing your voice sets him off, “Fuck, sweetheart. Yes.” He’s honestly choking out each of his words, he didn’t expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that… he can’t even remember. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. You’re feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.

You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.

“Did I, make you come?”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing.

“I did?” your cheekbones rise as you ask with awe— it was another first for the books.

Rick’s tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contact— almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. “Doesn’t always happen that fast,” he explains.

“Well before a month ago I didn’t know how to make myself come so I wouldn’t know,” you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. “I didn’t expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it was…” you smile while giggling, “interesting.”

“A good interesting I hope.”

“Very,” you assure. “I liked it.” You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesn’t tell you that you don’t have to; he helps along with you.

“You sure you’ve never done any of this before?”

You shake your head. “I just read fiction books.”

He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.

When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, it’s time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.

Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, “I really wanna show you something sweetheart.” He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. “Can I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?”

You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. “I-” you start nodding your head, “-I would really like that.” And in such a small voice you add, “Please.”

Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, “I would love to.”

Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once they’re gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.

Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldn’t like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that they’d get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happening– someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feel— you now knew what it was like to be desired.

Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.

He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, “Look down. Don’t miss your first time.”

Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, they’re always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see you’re nervous. You don’t trust yourself, you know it, and he’s starting to realize it too. You’re scared of completely letting go.

He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. “No one’s here,” he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. “Relax,” he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Don’t think about who could come downstairs.”

“What if Rosita or Daryl come back?”

“What if?” He says it so simply as if he’s ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but… you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Lay back,” he gently commands, “forget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like I’m the only one who's here.”

Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you can’t control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, “uh, ah, uh, uh” that turn into “sorry, I’m sorry.” You’re still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time you’ve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.

But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. “I like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds you’re making.”

Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.

“Keep going. You don’t have to be shy.” He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. “We’ve already made a mess anyway.”

He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, “Can you make sounds too?”

Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, “Want me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?” His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.

Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.

That’s it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. “I love tasting your pussy, baby.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole “My bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?”

“Oh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.”

Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. “Sorry,” you say. You’ve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. “Rick! Oh my god,” you moan and then again and again and then you come.

Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.

He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. “You did such a good job,” he says. “You always do.”

You’re filled with pride at that. “Thank you.” Then worry sets in. You realize how public you’ve made everything. “Did I just ruin your life?”

He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.

“I’m gonna check downstairs. Okay? If they’re there, they’re there.” You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. “They might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes are still nervous, but it’s all too late anyway. “Okay,” you respond.

“Okay,” he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, “I promise I won’t wait two weeks to see you again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.

When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.

As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.

Call when you’re done, it reads.

“Rosita?” He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?

He can almost hear the grin on her face. “They should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “There’s just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.”

Before he can respond, telling her that it’s absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:

“So, fucking my roommate? You’re glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.”

She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. “Just get over here,” she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.

Oh, Alexandria’s leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomen’s fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.

Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.

[unluckilyimnot]

Yes! Dw abt it :D in fact, I just wanted to see Sae being a daddy. It can be without the divorce though, just wanting to know how he would be as a father 🫶🏻

Sae as a father

m.list | rules

note: hii thank you for your answer <3 here it is finally i hope you like it ! also i made a get to know me, let me know what you think about it hihi i would love to chat a bit more with you guys

He must be awkward at first but he loves it a lot

I see him as a girl daddy he would love his little girl to death

talks about her more than he likes to admit it

but she's so funny

wait until she get to school and he’ll get to listen to all the gossip with a lot of passion

he’s really into it, if he came home late and she’s already to, he asks you what happened today and ask for all the details

loves to pick her from school when he can, but he’s busier than you

“no daddy you don’t get it !” and then she’ll explain the whole thing again (she doesn’t know shit about it but he would always let her think she’s right <3)

he doesn't want to be strict with her but he's still cold when he's upset, it's hard for him to work on that

but he always make sure to make it up for her by talking to her and explaining what was up – he doesn’t want her to think it’s normal to be ignored without explanation

both of you have to work on a lot of things, you’re not perfect, but you really want to show her the best model possible

sometimes he jokes about the fact that she loves him more than you

he loves doing picnic with both of you, that’s his favorite type of family date

when all of you three cook together and then you get to sit in a sun bath to enjoy it – it’s really the best

Not forgetring about the sea !! It's really important for him and he wants her to have a thins kind of feeling/relationship with it as well ♡

she would love to cook with him !

I hc him that he won’t let you cook because of his diet notably but also because it’s his way to show that he loves you and her

he’ll do his best for her to taste a lot of things but still respect when she says she doesn’t like something

he’ll probably get killed if he ever force her to eat something she doesn’t like in fact, ‘cause you hate that behavior

he also want her to be really educated about a lot of things so both of you make sure that she can go to a lot of museums, see temples and be in touch with animals to be aware and take care of them and the planet

he’s love to do sport with her but won’t forced her either if she doesn’t want to

but if she does, damn he’ll make sm time for her (even more than before)

but he’ll be salty if she’s more into the things you like

he’s totally the type to get caught away to watched cartoons or movies with her but ended up SO into the story ?? like hell yeah he needs to know the end of this barbie or pixar movie

play with her a lot even if he’s not the best at it, you’re definitely more expressive than him but you can be tired and he wants to spend time with her that way too

if she ever cry because of someone at school, be sure that his next day is taken and he’s got an appointment with the director without even asking him

he’ll just show up and makes things clear, could also talk directly to the kid if it was bad enough

he loves to walk with her on his shoulders even if she pulls his hair too much sometimes

he’s overly cute and caring with her  

i hope you liked it ♡

[kylosjuul]

Kylo Ren Fluff HCs

warnings: none, AFAB!reader (not proofread sorry)

I have made my triumphant return to writing! Enjoy my sweet delusional babies.

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Kylo admires your softness, though you are very strong, (and almost annoyingly independent) he finds himself in awe of your smooth skin, the way your hair frames your face. He takes notice of the way you keep your nails filed and clean, how you always smell so sweet. He’s just enamored by how beautiful you truly are and how lucky he is.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Oh boy. As previously mentioned in the NSFW alphabet, he’s a sucker for your thighs and your ass. You’re the perfect shape, molded especially for his hands. But on a more sentimental note, he loves your eyes. How long your lashes are, the way you look up at him with love and certainty.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He wasn’t use to having another body next to him. So many nights saturated with nightmares and coldness. He was so cold. That first night cuddled up to him, he knew he couldn’t sleep any other way. He prefers being ‘big spoon’ holding your frame tightly against his chest, so he can protect you, even in sleep. At night just before tiredness takes you, you’ll sprawl across his chest, playing with his hair and talking about anything and everything. It’s moments like that, that he replays when he’s feeling stressed, remembering the curve of your smile and the smell of your shampoo.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Due to being you know, the ruler of everything, he cant really take you out properly. However, his idea of a ‘date’ is making sure to be home on time to eat with you, talk about your days, and just spend quality time with his girl.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Kylo isn’t the best at this. Mostly, because he feels so undeserving of you and when he tries to communicate how much he loves you, it makes him well up. You can always tell what he’s feeling just by looking into his eyes, always a little glazed over when he’s looking at you, of course. He’ll swallow down a sob and just grab your hand, stroking it with his thumb. And that’s enough for you.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Family has always been a sore spot for him, obviously, constantly seeking that feeling of belonging. He’s scared to death to ever become a father, afraid of letting his children down. Of letting you down. Of letting his anger get in the way. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think about making you a mother sometimes. How amazing you would be, how he craves to see you holding his child. You’re his only family now, so he’s more focused on nurturing you. (For now).

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Anything you want, just ask. It is yours. You’d be talking about some pretty dress you saw, not even halfway through your sentence and he’d say,

“Pull up my account.”

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

At first he was afraid of people looking at him as weak while holding your hand, but he very quickly got over that. It took him awhile to show PDA, but now that you rule together, he feels even stronger when your palm is in his. He’ll gladly walk the Finalizer with a hand on the small of your back, chin high. He’s so proud of you, and likes to show you off.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Panic. He would drop everything to leave and go check on you. If you were bed ridden, he would stop 20 times a day to see if you needed anything, making sure the nurses were making you their top priority. You’d wave him off telling him you were going to be okay, but that panic never stopped for him. You’re all he has left.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

You’re definitely the funny one. Even when he is particularly stoic that day, you can still make him crack a smile. You bring out the Ben in him sometimes, and he revels in that, laughing for minutes on end over something stupid.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

In passing, he’ll give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

As a greeting, he’ll kiss you slow, taking in your lips against his.

When you’re in bed, it’s this languid, breathless kiss that has his heart pounding out of his chest.

When saying goodbye, it’s a quick peck followed by a few moments of staring into your eyes, never wanting to leave you. Ever.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

He has and always will show up for you. Whenever you need him, he feels it deep in his chest, you don’t even have to say it out loud. You two are so connected, so intertwined, he can feel you needing him before the thought crosses your mind. No matter the time or context, he’s rushing to your side. He loves his sweet girl. 🫶🏼

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The first kiss. Kylo had never felt so warm, so held, in his entire life. The first time you kissed him was also his first kiss. Ever. The excitement, and fear, that twisted in his chest made him feel giddy, softly grabbing your neck and surrendering himself to you. Thats when he knew he would be whatever man you needed him to be.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

You calling it quits. Even if he lived 10 lifetimes, he wouldn’t feel like he deserved you in any of them. Yes, he would totally understand if you ever decided to leave him, but selfishly, he can’t find it in him to let you go. Even if it may be what’s best for you in the long run. The man he is and was haunts him and makes him feel sick, always hoping that his baggage never bleeds into yours.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

He puts on a sock, then a shoe, one at a time for each foot. Like, he doesn’t put both socks on, THEN the shoes. Freak! (jk)

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

I’d like to headcanon that he calls you ‘sweetheart’ every once in awhile. Always whispering it too, it’s always so gentle and sweet. I can also see him calling you ‘my love’ here and there. So cute.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Having shared quarters definitely helps with this, so even on days where you don’t see him at all, you know that he’ll be there after your duties. He values just being able to hold you, talk to you for hours, whatever you want to do with him. Another way you and him spend time together, and maybe the most important of all, is going on missions. There’s no other person you can truly rely on besides him, and it’s no question that everyone can count on a success when you’re working as a team.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Here are a few songs that remind me of Kylo!

The Reason- Hoobastank

Birds of a Feather- Billie Eilish

The Summoning- Sleep Token (heavy on this one).

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Kylo is a tough one to crack. There are still some things he hasn’t told you, but he’s the most vulnerable when you are, when you start opening up to him. He’ll tell you a similar experience that happened to him, never wanting you to feel alone.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

When you first joined the Order, he viewed you as nothing but competition. Your numbers, your successes challenged him until he realized you were more of an asset than an enemy. Then, he craved you. He daydreamed of how powerful you would be together. That fateful day in the throne room when you both defeated Snoke was his wake up call. He essentially begged you to join him, and you said yes, by his luck. It took him awhile to muster up the courage to ask anything from you, but he did. And you both have been unstoppable since.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

The second a tear hits your cheek, he’s curling you into him with a vice grip, stroking your hair, gentle touches to your back. He knows pain, and loathes you experiencing it too. He’s your safe place.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

Kylo is proud of how far he’s come, what he’s proved himself to be to the order. How people either fear him or respect him throughout the galaxy. But there is nothing he’s more proud of than you. He is honored to be even associated with you, pride surging through him when people recognize your power. He feels most confident when you’re walking beside him.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on in his life. You are sharp, lethal. But graceful. Each swing of your saber carefully calculated. He would go as far to say you were a much more reliable and sturdy fighter than himself. He swells with pride seeing you take what’s yours, getting your revenge.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Given your dyad, there are no secrets. He can’t exactly read your thoughts word for word, but he can pick up on the feelings you have no matter how complicated they are. Sometimes he knows what you need before you do.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

He would be shaking, nervousness vibrating in his chest, along with hope that you won’t refuse him this. This promise, this covenant to hold you forever. He swallows thickly, eye twitching and jaw working. You can see in his eyes there’s already a trace of tears. He’d grab both your hands, almost crushing them with how scared he was.

“I want you. All of you. Forever.”

He takes a knee humbly before you.

“Please.”

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Your presence. Everyone aboard knows the only way to knock any kind of sense, or peace, into the Supreme Leader is through you. (Which is why most political or detrimental plans are run by you first). You can feel his anger rippling through your dyad, urging you to find him, and once you do you place a light hand on his shoulder, “Kylo…breathe.” And he does.

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Don't you think it's funny cause actual canon gay characters in BL manga will say "I love you" but only the shounen bromance can spew out some of the most romantic shit akin to a 19th century poet writing a letter expressing his surpressed love for his lover 😭.....

Genuniely can't tell if it's bait or not, but I'm going to treat this ask seriously anyway.

Here, have some examples of beautiful and poetic expressions of love in BL media!

I'm going to start with my favourite murder husbands, Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu from Word of Honor/Faraway Wanderers!

This happens in episode nine, less than one third into the story- it's that early, they've known each other for like a week and are already able to tell they're meant to be. They've made their decision to be together, and over the course of the story:

They defend each other multiple times and fight side by side in multiple episodes, sometimes protecting their adopted kid/mentee Chengling as well

Zhou Zishu is willing to go against the whole martial arts society for his boyfriend. With zero hesistation, might I add.

They both know the other has done horrible things (lots of murder on both sides here) and that's not only okay, it's a big part of why they're soulmates and get each other so well!

Zhou Zishu is slowly dying (poisoned nails in his chest, long story) and Wen Kexing can and will risk his life to save him. Don't worry, they get a happy ending both in the show and the novel even if the show's last episode is behind a paywall and Netflix didn't even include it for some reason?

But enough about them, let's move on to the immortal fantasy genre boyfriends Hua Cheng and Xie Lian from Heaven Official's Blessing!

Please note how Hua Cheng is ready to accept Xie Lian in whatever state he's currently in- as a god, a fallen outcast, even grieving and angry and at his absolute lowest. He's stood by Xie Lian in his worst moments, even if at the time Xie Lian had no idea it was him.

Hua Cheng has loved Xie Lian for 800 years, ever since he was a boy Xie Lian saved from falling to his death during a procession.

Xie Lian became a god, then fell due to horrible circumstances, almost committed a war crime against another nation that destroyed his country, spend 800 years wandering the mortal realm as a poor cultivator with his powers greatly reduced, and eventually ascended to become a god again. Throughout it all, Hua Cheng loved him and did his best to help him and then find him.

They're both adorable and the definition of a power couple once they're reunited- no spoilers, but they eventually fight an incredibly powerful god side by side and win & the last scene in the story is them reuniting for good since there's no more obstacles to their immortal love.

Let's move on to my favourite Japanese BL, Our Dining Table (also available as a series that came out semi-recently, but the examples below are from the manga.)

Yutaka is a lonely salesman who meets Minoru, a restaurant worker and his much younger brother Tane grieving the death of their mother.

Yutaka and Minoru hit it off by bonding through food they cook and share. The series is incredibly heartwarming, and as seen above Yutaka becomes a much happier person thanks to both his new relationship and big brother-like bond with little Tane.

As a little bonus, the whole found family together!

This post can't be complete without Golden Stage (or Golden Terrace, as the English official translation calls it).

Fu Shen and Yan Xiaohan aren't even in love at this point! This is at the beginning of the story, when their marriage has just been arranged by the emperor and they're still bitter rivals.

Yan Xiaohan is already protective of his future husband- later on, he also builds him a mansion meant to accommodate his disability (nerve damage in both legs, which requires a wheelchair and/or crutches). They're both incredibly powerful military generals, and the emperor was an idiot thinking an arranged marriage would humiliate them.

Of course they fall in love, of course they're a power couple, of course they send each other letters through trained geese when they're separated during the war, of course they run to each other as fast as they can across a wide cold river when they're finally reunited! Of course they're important to me!

....Aaand how about some Wangxian to wrap up this post? They need no introduction, an absolutely wonderful and complex relationship in a complex fantasy/intrigue story available in several forms - the books, the animated series (as seen above), the live action series, the audio drama, there's so much!

Some of their most beautiful moments:

Lan Wangji writing a song for Wei Wuxian and naming it Wangxian. Years after it's composed, Wei Wuxian plays it and LWJ is able to recognise him even in a different body.

LWJ begs WWX to come with him to Cloud Recesses, to safety, after WWX makes himself an enemy of the whole cultivation world for protecting innocent people.

They confront the final villain together, and work together to expose his crimes. This is also when their final love confession happens, and it's hilarious- in front of everyone's salad, WWX declares he also wanted to sleep with LWJ.

Despite censorship, the animated series was still able to allude to their wedding, showing them in red wedding robes (unfortunately can't find a gif rn)

Respectfully, if you genuinely think BL doesn't have beautiful love confessions and displays of romance, you need to find better BL.

[balladofmyramblings]

What would have happened if

1. Katniss didn't volunteer for Prim, so Prim and Peeta compete in 74th Games.

2. Gale and Katniss compete.

3. Katniss and Peeta's brother compete. Before, he volunteered for Peeta.

The Questions :

A.What strategy would Haymitch made for District 12?

B.What would Katniss do to them? Would she become an ally with those 2 boys?

C.Who would be the winner in the end?

Thank you so much :)

@curiousnonny

You have ZERO idea how much I’ve thought about the first question.

Let’s start from the beginning: they’re reaped. they get to the capitol. I think that their outfits would have stayed the same, so they would’ve made the same kind of statement before the games and had a fair bit of attention.

next, training. I think Peeta and Prim would still spend a lot of time together, like an older brother and younger sister bond. Prim might not know him as well, and Peeta might not know her as well, but I think they’d still want the best for each other, and of course Peeta would want to protect Prim as much as possible (both for Katniss’ sake and because he’s a good person).

For the personal training score thing, Peeta would probably get the same score, and I’m guessing Prim would show off her healing knowledge as much as she could and maybe score a 6-8, if she’s lucky, or a 4 if not. Either way, it wouldn’t be like Katniss’ 11, but enough to get some attention.

Now, the interviews. I think Prim would play up her medical aspect, how she has that advantage despite being so young, and talk a fair bit about Katniss and her protection (that she now doesn’t have). I think she’d gain a fair bit of sympathy for it, and while maybe not thought of as a victor, she’d still be seen as useful and not completely discredited.

Then Peeta comes in. I think he’d still be just as charming and all, and when Flickerman asks him about girls again, his answer will stay the same. Prim will probably believe it way better than Katniss did honestly, and I think that they could maybe bond over it, and Prim would probably think it was funny.

Peeta would still have managed to intrigue the viewers, and while it wouldn’t be as fun watching the love story play out, it’d still be cool. I think Katniss would probably be interviewed earlier than the last 8 tributes, or after Peeta gets in a troubling spot (but not with the careers- I’ll get to that later) (side note I just almost called them death eaters and earlier almost called the capitol the hallow this is a PROBLEM atp).

Katniss’ response would probably be something like, “I’ve always appreciated Peeta, and am so thankful he can look after my sister. I want her home safe.” Or something like that- not denying her and Peeta, but focusing the attention back to Prim, because she knows how this works and needs Prim to stay relevant and not be overshadowed so much that people want Peeta to win instead of her so he can get home to Katniss.

In the actual games, I think Peeta would stay with Prim, who would’ve made friends with Rue during training. Omg I totally forgot about Rue.

I think Prim and Rue would’ve become friends with each other during training after both trying to observe each other because they’re both so young. I think Peeta would’ve stuck with both of them.

So yeah, I know it’s probably annoying to the Peeta-haters to paint him as this kid defender/protecter, but I genuinely believe that’s what he’d do.

During the arena, I can only guess at. I think Rue would’ve tried to show them her hiding spots, and Prim tried to show Peeta what Katniss had showed her about hunting, but they would’ve had to find some in between and probably gone for something in the middle for both of them (maybe 40ft off ground instead of 80ft, and only foraging).

I think they would’ve made it pretty far tbh, like to the top 12 given all their combined skills, but anything past that I can only guess at. Yes, I should probably be trying to be more creative, but it’s so open and I don’t think Prim would be comfortable going after to KILL the careers nor do I think any of them would know about the hoard of food or stuff.

In the end, I think Peeta would’ve died first, or it would’ve been like what happened with Rue and Katniss. If that happened with either Prim or Rue, Peeta would still try his best to get the other one to make it to the end, and if it came down to the two of them I think he would’ve let the other one win.

Honestly though, I have pretty good hopes for their little group, especially Rue now that she’s with far less bold people. So I think the victor that year would either be Prim, Rue, or a career. Slim chance for Peeta, and the 2 people if from the same district never would’ve been inacted if this happened.

Katniss and Gale I really feel like depends. If they were both reaped, that would’ve sucked, so I��ll get to that later. If Gale had VOLUNTEERED for Peeta…well let’s just say he wouldn’t want to do that.

See, I think Katniss literally thinks about this. She’d never forgive him for not taking care of Prim while she was gone. Especially CHOOSING to follow her to a death arena. Look at how mad she got at Peeta for saying he liked her- this would basically be a bigger version of that, and he knows her so much better (or they both think he does), so it would hurt more.

I think Katniss would’ve just been so angry with him for the train ride and training Haymitch nor Cinna could’ve done anything about it, and just painted them as adversaries instead (although Gale wouldn’t be helping this). Katniss’ training would’ve gone about the same, and I’m guessing Gale could’ve pulled a score anywhere in the 8-10 range.

Now, I think the interviews would decide how the rest of the games would go. I think Katniss’ would’ve gone about the same, except with maybe a jab at Gale because he was supposed to stay and protect her sister. I don’t think she would’ve gone overboard with it though, because there was still that part of her that wanted to protect him, even if he’d done this.

And then Gale’s interview I have two thoughts for.

Possibility one- his hatred of the games overcomes his love & desire to win Katniss back. He sits completely silently the entire interview, not interacting with or acknowledging Ceaser or the audience the entire time. This would earn him points with sponsors, but not the capital because of the rebellion aspect.

Possiblity two (less likely)- his love and desire to win Katniss back overtakes his hatred of the games, and while he does spend time playing up his benefits (to appeal himself), he does ask for her back. During Katniss’ interview, she would’ve put her foot DOWN on this and honestly probably refused to answer anything about him, bringing the attention back to her and her skills.

In the arena, I think Gale would’ve spent like the first day trying to find Katniss, but because Peeta wasn’t there to distract her Katniss would also have her bow, so he would’ve left soon enough after realizing this.

Katniss’ journey may have stayed mostly the same, with the careers after her, except this time Gale might’ve joined them for REAL instead of Peeta (if it was the first version of the interviews). Not to mention, he would’ve known the look in the trees, and would know it was her shooting that got her the 11 (by deducing it- Katniss definitely wouldn’t have told him).

If it had come down to Katniss and Gale, I think Katniss would’ve offered the berries again tbh (if she still had them). She holds many grudges, sure, but I think she would’ve cared about Gale’s family too much to just kill him, and again, he’s her best friend. I think Gale would’ve accepted, but let her eat the berries, thinking she was doing that to him.

Honestly, there are so many possibilities for this, and I don’t think I know Gale’s character enough to fully explain and predict him lmao.

If Katniss and Peeta’s brother competed, my best guess is it would be just like a normal hunger games for her. She wouldn’t go after him, he probably wouldn’t go after her, and they would mostly not interact imo. Maybe there’d be something about Peeta’s brother trying to steal her attention, and it’s only main outcome different than the original would be stirring up more attention for d12 in the reaping.

Geez I really need to start reading questions fully before answering. I think I mostly did though, but for the Haymitch thing, I feel like it’d just depend on how they felt about stuff. He’d probably just drink for Katniss and Peeta’s brother, but be more focused with Prim & Peeta and Katniss & Gale due to the more drama.

Really interesting question to explore, so thanks, @curiousnonny ! As always, feel free to debate and discuss other possibilities in the replies/reblogs- I’d LOVE to hear y’all’s ideas for it.

[cowgurrrl]

It Will Come Back

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (except this is all backstory)

Author’s note: now we’re cooking with peanut oil 🤠

Summary: “I get mean when I’m nervous, like a bad dog.” Cop Car by Mitski [3.3k]

Warnings: survival stuff, parental anxiety, PTSD symptoms, Jane being the best, some smoochy smooch

More survivors filter in. Slowly, but they still show up— nobody you recognize or care about. You still haven't seen Matt, and you're quickly losing hope. Not that there was much to begin with. Time crawls on, and suddenly it's been weeks since that September night. Adam and Jane are inseparable most days. She wants to be next to him and hear what he has to say or teach her, and she laughs. Full-bellied, air-stealing, big laughs at his jokes or a funny face. Seeing her interacting with someone, especially a man, like that hurts something deep inside you. The whole time you think, she deserves a dad. She wants a dad. She's worthy of a dad, but her mom can't ever fucking pick 'em right. He's not her father, and there's nothing you can do to change that, but to her, he's a safe person to be around. That's enough for now. 

There have been murmurings of a wall going up around the Quarantine Zone— nobody in or out without clearance or a death wish. After that, FEDRA will clear the rest of the QZ and get whatever survivors are here into apartments. Maybe even give us jobs again. May is still hounding you about coming around and helping at what is now the makeshift hospital, where she spends her days tending to new survivors and stupid FEDRA soldiers who take bullets to the shoulder for not paying attention. You don't care. The entirety of your attention is on Jane.

Is she eating enough? Is she sleeping? Is she getting nightmares like you are? Does she see the blood staining your hands when she closes your eyes like you do? Seeing your mom kill four people in front of you can't be good for your mental health. How do you help her get through it? What can you do to ease this aching burden you handed her without a second thought because at least she was alive? Is she happy? Would she even tell you if she wasn't? Would she still let you see that part of her, or is she aware of just how fragile you are these days? You're still in survival mode. You're not sure when you'll get out of it, if you ever will.

One night, before the last dredges of summer heat can slip away, Jane sighs as she lies next to you, staring at the ceiling. You look down and push her hair out of her face so you can see her better through the darkness. She leans into your touch, snuggling closer and throwing an arm over your abdomen. 

"What's wrong, bug?" You ask quietly as you kiss her temple. 

"D'you remember when we used to sit outside and look at the sky before bed?" She asks like it was years ago instead of a few weeks. In a way, it feels like it. You take a deep breath and nod. 

"Yeah, I remember."

"I miss the moon," she mumbles. "Is it still there?"

"The moon?" You ask, and she hums. "Yeah, the moon is still up there. It'll always be in the sky."

"Do you think Daddy looked at the moon like we did?" She asks, and you freeze. She rarely brings him up, if at all. She doesn't know why he's not around but understands that most families have two parents. Still, you know she thinks about him, and you've told her it's okay if she does. You just didn't expect her to ask you that.

"I don't know," you admit. "What do you think?" She looks like she thinks for a moment before reaching out to play with the ends of your hair. 

"I think he did." She says, and you smile. She doesn't say anything else, falling asleep in your arms not even ten minutes later. You do your best to follow suit, closing your eyes and snuggling her to your chest, but your mind floods with memories of sitting on the balcony of your apartment with her, looking up at the night sky. 

It was her favorite thing to do. She would smile as you pointed out constellations and listened when you told her stories about the formations. You told her that the Big Dipper was the Little Dipper's mom, so they were never far apart. You told her that the Big Dipper loved the Little Dipper so much that they were put in the sky for everyone to see their love forever. You told her they were like you two. Before you finally fall asleep, you start coming up with a plan. 

Over the next week, you take notice of the patrol shifts. You figure out when and where they patrol and when they change shifts. For the most part, it's the same rotation every few days as a few FEDRA soldiers patrol the perimeter of the QZ. However, most of them are focused on where they're building the wall, protecting the workers, and making sure nothing gets in or out. You figure if you stay away from the building site, you're in the clear. When you're alone, you pull your bag from under your and Jane's bed to check your gun. The grip still has blood, but it's loaded, and you have extra ammo. You glance around before tucking the gun in your waistband, the weight of the metal a comfort against your skin. 

That night, you almost decide to change your whole plan. In the past few days, FEDRA has gotten especially jumpy, and in turn, they've gotten brutal. They've recently implemented a curfew, making everyone get off the streets and stay in their shelters from the hours of nine pm to six am. At first, the punishment for being caught outside after curfew was a slap on the wrist. Then, it became a fine that nobody paid because nobody had money anymore. Now, it's time, ranging from hours to days, spent in lockup. You've seen May helping a few people once they leave lockup, bruises and cuts littering their skin. As if fighting Infected wasn't threatening enough, now we're living under constant fear of getting the shit beaten out of us by FEDRA. 

Waters doesn't even look at you when he walks through the shelter. None of them look at any of us. Their eyes are hollowed by whatever they've done since the beginning of the end. You would feel bad if you didn't know he and other FEDRA soldiers lived the most lavishly out of any other survivor. Rumor has it they spent our food budget on ammunition, and rationing will start sooner rather than later. Empathy is hard to find on both sides these days. 

Still, you quietly slip your shoes on and rouse Jane awake. When she opens her eyes, she blinks at you several times like she can't comprehend that you're sitting up instead of lying next to her. "Wanna go see the moon?" You whisper, and a huge smile breaks out across her face. She sits up and puts her shoes and jacket on before tiptoeing out of the room behind you. The hallways are empty, so you sail through the old high school and to the double doors leading to the street without any issues. As you approach the door, you put a hand on Jane's shoulder, pull your gun from your waistband, and keep it low before opening the door to check that the streets are clear. Jane gets the silent message and stays back until you wave her on. She looks up the second there's no roof over her head and marvels at the vastness of the sky.

There aren't as many stars visible as usual, but you chalk that up to the new crazy amounts of pollution let off from the bombings and the building of the wall. Still, the moon is full, bright, and shining across Jane's smiling face. She's looking up, but you're looking at her, watching how she takes in the rare sight and lights up when she spots the Big Dipper. You want the joy in her eyes to stay there forever, but she quickly turns pensive as she looks at you, her eyes shifting nervously from you to the empty, dark street.

"Are we gonna get in trouble?" She asks, keeping her voice quiet so it doesn't echo across the buildings. You hide your gun away again and walk over to her, putting your hands on her arms.

"No, we're not gonna get in trouble. I know how to keep us safe, and we're not going far," you say and point to the fire escape ladder leading to the roof on the side of the high school. Still, you can feel Jane's anxiety as you hold her. You nudge her to make her look you in the eyes and smile when she does. "Do you trust me?" You ask. She thinks for a minute before nodding. "Then, let's go look at the stars."

She clings to your neck as you climb up the fire escape, not even looking down at the creaky metal under your shoes. You shush her gently and rub her back as you get higher and higher, assuring her that she's safe and you would never let anything happen to her. When you finally get up to the roof, you can see more of the night sky and even what's left of the city around you. Much of it is rubble or half-toppled over buildings, but there's still a lot left in the heart of the QZ. You wonder if that was on purpose. Jane gasping stops you from unraveling that thought anymore, and you quickly look down to see her wide-eyed and pointing at something on the horizon.

"Mommy, look," Jane breathes quietly, afraid it'll disappear if she speaks too loudly. It takes your eyes a second to adjust, but when they do, you can't help but smile at how the little flashes of light flit around. "Fireflies," she says. "Did you know fireflies light up like that so they can talk to their other firefly friends?"

"I didn't know that." You say, amazed at her intelligence, but she just giggles at the thought of knowing something you didn't. You guys lie on the roof together and gaze up at the moon. It looks bigger and brighter than you remembered. Maybe you've fully lost your mind and forgotten what the moon looked like. Either way, you're happy just to lie next to Jane and look at it with an appreciation you certainly didn't have before Cordeceyps took over your life. 

The night is cool and still a product of the transition between seasons. It always fascinated you how the world seemed to pause and take a breath before switching from summer to autumn. The cicadas are still out in full force, and you can hear them from wherever they took shelter after the bombings. A bird flaps its wings overhead and lets out a desperate call, practically begging for another bird to return its song. Distantly, you can smell cement being poured in an effort to keep you safe. You think you can smell the blood on the gun digging into your side too. The blood you spilled in an effort to keep her safe. How much farther will we each go to keep up the fantasy of safety? 

You're not sure how long you're out there, under the stars, with her, but you know your eyes get heavy, and your body relaxes for the first time in weeks. Jane rolls over to be closer to you, her fingers intertwining with yours, and you turn to look at her. She takes a deep breath and stares at you, the gears in her mind working overtime as she thinks. You wish you could peek inside her brain to understand how it all works, how she is as amazing as she is, but you can't. So, you wait her out. After a minute of just staring at each other, she squeezes your hand and smiles.

"I love you, Mommy." She says. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a second, you think you'll choke on your emotions. You lean down and kiss her forehead, squeezing her back.

"I love you, too, Janey." You say, but before the words can even leave your mouth, you hear the unmistakable sound of metal scraping metal. Someone is coming up the fire escape. You sit up and shield Jane's body with your own as you pull the gun from your waistband. You flip the safety and aim the barrel toward the noise. Your heart thrums in your face, and your ears ring as the scraping sound gets closer and closer. Jane whimpers behind you, and you reach back to touch her shoulder but stay laser-focused on the person coming for you. When the person comes over the ledge, your finger twitches to hit the trigger, but you stutter as you make out familiar features. His flashlight also helped protect him from catching a bullet.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Waters asks as he lowers his own gun that was pointed in your direction. You're not as quick to waver. "Lower your weapon," he says like it's a nuisance even to have to voice. "Don't be stupid about this, sweetheart." There's enough of an edge to his voice for you to comply, and he watches you as you put the gun on the ground and raise your hands. 

"What are you doing here?" 

"I could ask you the same thing. I got a call about some movement on this side of the QZ and was sent to check it out," he says. "You're lucky it was me. Anyone else would've shot on sight."

"Oh, so I should be thanking you?" You ask. Jane clings to your legs and shyly buries her head in your thigh, and you sigh as Waters glances between her hands and your eyes. "She wanted to see the stars." You answer his unspoken question and his Adam's apple bobs. 

"I should put you in lockup for breaking curfew. Not to mention you're armed." He says. It's more of a statement than a threat. He doesn't seem like he likes the thought of separating you two, even though he was more than keen on it when you first got here.

"So, do it," you say. "Do whatever you have to do, but you're not gonna touch her." He takes a deep breath as his radio crackles with someone asking for a report about your movement. He meets your eyes and holds your gaze while pressing the talk button.

"Nothing here. Must've been a cat or something. Circling back now. Waters out," he says, and you let out a shaky breath. He nods almost imperceptibly at you, and you nod back— a silent agreement. "Let's go." He says once the moment has passed. You grab your gun but show him how you release the magazine and pull the slide to spit out the bullet left in the chamber. He doesn't try to take the firearm from you. In fact, he turns his head when he sees you tucking it in your waistband again. Jane all but jumps in your arms, and the three of you silently climb down the fire escape. When you get to the bottom, you tell Jane to go inside and lie down. 

"I'll meet you in a second, okay? Adam is there if you need anything before I get back." 

"But, Mommy," she whines, and you shake your head.

"No but's. I need to talk to Mr. Waters. I'll be there in a second. I promise," you say, and she huffs but complies, disappearing behind the high school doors. Through the cracked glass, you can watch her walk down the hallway until she turns into the classroom/bedroom where you've been sleeping for the past few months. Once you know she's safe, you turn back to Waters. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"The world ended. I can't be a little nice sometimes?"

"Not when you wear that uniform," you say, and he chuckles. "If you're expecting something in return-"

"I'm not." He says, and you throw your arms up in defeat.

"Then, what? You had no problem throwing someone from our shelter in lockup for breaking curfew. Why is it different for me?"

"Do you want me to put you in lockup?" 

"Obviously not."

"Then, let it go." He says, and you roll your eyes before walking away from him and up the stairs. 

"Goodnight, Waters."  

"Owen," he calls, and you turn around to look at him. "My name is Sergeant Owen Waters." 

"Well, then, goodnight Sergeant." You say. With that, you slip back into the school and down the hallway, leaving him in the street. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, fighting an impending headache as your adrenaline finally starts to leave your body. You almost scream when you collide with another body in the hallway, your nails digging into the person's arms as they reach for you. 

"What happened?" Adam's voice pulls you from your shock, and you sigh as you push away from him.

"Why are you even awake?"

"Did you get caught out past curfew?" 

"It's none of your business."

"It is when Jane tells me about it." He says, and you scoff. It could be the leftover anger from your interaction with Waters or your frustration with this entire situation, but you can't hide it anymore. 

"You know, I got along just fine on my own for years. So, I don't need you to play Dad to my daughter just because the world ended, alright?" You spit, trying to push past him to crawl into bed with Jane, but he grabs your arm. Your nails dig into his skin until he lets go of you with a short cry, and you grip his wrist tightly as you back him into a wall. It would only take one quick turn for you to break it. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"Just because you don't want to see it doesn't mean people don't care about you and Jane," he says. "You didn't want help from anyone even before all this shit happened. You don't know how to handle it when someone cares about you, so you just push them away."

"What? You want to be the one to take care of us?"

"What if I did?" 

"Give me a fucking break, Adam."

"I'm serious," he pushes. You let your guard down enough for him to slip his wrist out of your grasp, but he doesn't make any other move to get away from you despite the fire seething in your veins. You're suddenly all too aware of how close you two are. You can make out the freckles littering his cheeks and the scar on his upper lip he told you about on your date a few months ago. You can't remember the last time you were physically this close to anyone else, let alone a man. "Something awful happened, and a lot of people died, and we did a lot of horrible things to stay alive. I know you get nightmares from it because I do, too," he says, and you clench your jaw. "But we survived. We survived and ended up in the same spot, and I care about you and Jane. I did long before any of this. Shouldn't that count for something?" He asks. Your mind is swimming, and you shake your head. His heart beats against yours, and you're close enough to smell the cigarette he smoked before bed. It's annoying how fast you lose track of the conversation when he's looking at you like this.

"If you ever grab me like that again, I will snap your neck. Do you understand me?" You ask, and he swallows hard.

"Yes."

You have no idea who moved or blinked first, but you know you were kissing him against the wall of an old high school before you could even realize it was happening. He tasted like cigarettes and mint and something familiar. 

And Jesus fucking Christ, if you didn't crave something familiar like that.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Pleasure Is My Business: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: You’re brought back to your high school days with this case. You put that behind you when you graduated, but life has a funny way of bringing you closer to the person who made your life miserable back then.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

Larry was reluctant to send everything over but he did it. So, when you walk into the police station the next morning, Hotch already has all the files on the desk. Spencer is in the break room getting some coffee and you join his side to get the day started with some caffeine.

"Tonight is the first night of the reunion," he says.

"Fine, I'll go for a couple of hours and say hi to everyone. I don't know why they deserve it since all of them treated me like shit. I'm pretty sure they still hate me."

"You're an FBI agent. It doesn't matter what they've done with their lives. You're helping so many people despite what they've done to you. Nothing else matters."

"You're absolutely right," you grin and kiss him.

You two grab coffees for everyone before heading over to the empty conference room. Hotch is already on the phone with Penelope as everyone shuffles into the room.

"This guy is richie-rich. Eighteen cars, six houses, and three boats. Can you even boat in Dallas?"

"When you're talking about that much money, ten grand for a call girl is like deciding where to go for dinner," Emily says.

"I have half a million over here for something called the bat cave, and here's a picture of him as fetish Batman. That is wrong," JJ shudders and shows the picture.

"Is there anything this guy didn't like to spend money on?"

"Yeah, his ex-wives. Fielding was married four times. He didn't have prenups in the first two, but he did everything he could to cut off his ex-wives."

"Are there children involved?" you ask.

"Yes, with three of the wives. Hoyt Ashford was married a few times, too, wasn't he?"

"You know, considering that when Kevin takes me to dinner and a movie, he defaults on his student loans," Penelope divulges. "This amount of money is sick."

"What did you find?"

"All three of our dearly departed rich guys were embroiled in bitter court battles over how much to pay in alimony and child support, and even when the court ruled in the wife's favor, these three charmers just decided not to pay."

"Garcia, can you generate a list of high-profile Dallas CEOs who are holding out on their ex-wives?" Hotch asks.

"One loaded losers list, Dallas edition, coming at ya. Penelope out."

"So, why would a prominent businessman who could easily pay child support refuse to?" you ask when Penelope hangs up.

"For this type of overachieving personality, paying money after the marriage ends probably offends him."

"They're spending tens of thousands on an escort, but they won't drop a dime on their wife and kids? That's cold," JJ shakes her head.

"Meanwhile, most prostitutes come from broken homes and she's listening to pillow talk. That could serve as some sort of trigger about how their ex-wives are cheating them out of money, and how their kids are nagging them. It's everything that these men take for granted that she never had."

"Should I assemble the police for a profile?" JJ asks.

"I don't think it's gonna help. She lives in a completely different world than they do. The same thing goes for the news-watching public. The CEOs who sleep with her won't admit to it."

"I couldn't even get past the team of lawyers protecting them," JJ says.

"What if we give the profile to the corporate lawyers? They've cleaned up after her even if they don't realize that they've seen this woman," Hotch suggests.

"Every time we've approached them, they've circled the wagons. What makes you think this is going to be any different?"

"She's putting them at risk, too."

"I'll gather the lawyers."

As soon as JJ gathers the corporate lawyers, your entire team stands in front of them to deliver the profile to them. There are about three dozen lawyers in the room of all different backgrounds. You scan the entire room only to stop at someone you recognize. This man used to go to the same high school as you in Dallas. He ran in the crowd that bullied you the most, though, he doesn't seem to recognize you.

"We're looking for a white woman between the ages of twenty-five and thirty. She's being paid between ten and fifteen thousand per session, and she's very well versed in the world of money and privilege."

"Even though she's a call girl, she doesn't look like one. She could pass as a businesswoman or a co-worker. You've probably written up her personal expenses as losses such as shoes, jewelry, and clothing. Your bosses pay her in cash, but they may also be paying her in other ways like taking care of her, getting her a new car, and even paying for her medical bills."

"She probably didn't grow up with a father figure, and she is now turning that rage toward clients who walk out on their families," Emily adds.

"What's going to happen once this woman is caught?" one of the lawyers asks.

"She'll be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."

"What about the other men she's sleeping with, the ones she doesn't kill? Will they be prosecuted?"

"Right now we're concentrating on stopping her from killing again."

"That's all well and good, but our employers are going to ask us about the risks involved In cooperating with an FBI investigation," another lawyer asks.

"Tell your employers that the risk is not only a physical one. She's compromising privileged information as well. After she sleeps with these men, they talk to her. It's part of the release they get in seeing her. All that dirty laundry you've worked so hard to cover up, she knows it. As long as she's out there, it's not just your clients that are vulnerable. Your firms are, too," you warn.

"Excuse me," a young woman speaks up from the back. "I'm Allison Barnes. I'm a lawyer at Webster Industries where Joseph Fielding worked."

"This is really not the time," Larry tries to stop her.

"We'd like to hear what she has to say. Go ahead, Ms. Barnes."

"A while back, I looked at some paperwork that Mr. Fielding filed about a penthouse downtown. I asked him what he'd be using it for, and he just kind of chuckled and said it was for a friend. Is that the kind of information you're looking for?"

"Do you have an address?" JJ asks and walks over to her.

"Please heed our warning. We're doing our best to get to her before she strikes again. Thank you."

Before the man you recognize can leave the meeting, you walk up to him with a friendly smile on your face.

"Jason? Jason Gavins?"

"Yeah? Don't tell me I'm in trouble," he jokes.

"No, nothing like that. I'm Y/N. We went to North Dallas High School together. Do you remember me or am I just coming off as creepy?" you chuckle.

"No, I remember you. I'm just shocked that you're here. Wow, it's been a long time."

"How have you been?"

"Good. I can tell by your badge that you've been good, too. Wow, the big FBI, huh? I always knew you'd do something special like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on. I'm assuming abilities like yours don't go away over time."

"You're right," you chuckle. "This might be a stretch, but did you happen to get a reunion invitation?"

"Yeah. I think it'll be fun to go for a night. Are you going?"

"Maybe for a few hours."

"I hope to see you there," he flirts.

He leaves just as Spencer joins your side.

"What was that about?"

"He and I went to high school together here in Dallas. He ran with the crowd who bullied me, but I don't think he remembers it."

The penthouse that Allison gave JJ is definitely home to the unsub. She must be staying here in between kills. You enter the penthouse knowing you're going to see the same blue energy, but it's driving you crazy not remembering who it belongs to. This place is too clean to have someone live here, which means she might have a different place to live. An initial sweep doesn't come up with anything out of the ordinary, but after spending some time in the bedroom, a few things pop out at you.

"Do you have anything?" Derek asks.

"No, and she seems too smart to leave a receipt lying around."

"Check this out," you say. You open a jewelry box that houses expensive rings and bracelets. "She's got a lot of high-end designer jewelry here, and then this." You pick up a small ring that's not like the others. "It's way too small to be an adult's. She probably kept it from her childhood."

"It's a purity ring. By wearing it, you promise to save yourself for marriage," Emily explains.

"She broke that promise a long time ago." Derek opens her closet doors only to find a leather suit used for sex. "Hey, Y/N, got a whip?"

"Nah, I'm not into that," you laugh.

"There are antique first editions on the bookshelves," you hear Hotch say from the living room.

"There's nothing identifiable. No pictures or sense of personality. Her lifestyle is completely disposable."

"Well, these aren't just for show." Hotch points to the books. "The spines are cracked. Somebody's been reading these. You know, we profiled that she learned to fake privilege. What if she's not faking it?"

"You're saying maybe she came from money the whole time?"

"Maybe."

The living room phone rings, and for some reason, you know that the call is meant for the FBI. It's like someone knows the FBI is in this room right now.

"Y/N or Prentiss should answer. If it's a customer, she'll get more information out of them," Spencer suggests.

"Unless she's calling in for her messages."

Derek takes out his phone and gets Penelope on the line.

"Yeah, Garcia, we're getting a call to this line. Can you work some magic?"

"I don't have a trap-and-trace in place yet. Give me a few."

"Prentiss, get ready to vamp. She's gonna work it."

The machine picks up the call, patching in whoever is calling.

Hi, it's me. You know what to do.

"Aaron. I know you're up there," the unsub says. "Pick up. Aaron Hotchner."

How the hell does she know who Hotch is? He must have run into her without knowing she was the unsub. Hotch looks at everyone before answering the phone. The machine is still on, so you're able to hear her side of the conversation, too.

The thing is, you've heard this voice before. You know this person. At some point in your life, you've either run into this woman or knew her, but where?

"Hello? I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours. Can we start there?"

"I thought I could trust you, Aaron."

"Who says you can't?"

"I want to. I even looked you up online. Is that strange?"

"No. It's flattering to be noticed by a woman like you."

"I thought you were so upstanding. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings. I found it posted on YouTube. For a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world."

"I've disappointed you, haven't I? Just like all the other men in your life who've walked out on their families, who deserve to be punished."

"Did you walk out on your family?"

"No, my wife left me."

"Do you have kids?"

"I have a son."

"How often do you see him?"

"I try to see him every week."

"Do you see him every week?"

"No, I don't get there as often as I want," Hotch sighs.

"I believe you, but don't compare yourself to the men I see. You are nothing like them. You're just another whore."

"How am I a whore? You come when called. You do their bidding. In hotels, you take the side elevator to avoid crowds while the men who pay your salary walk across the ivory marble foyer into their cars, but I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?"

"Garcia, anything?" Derek whispers into his phone.

"I'm on the landline, triangulating the cell. Give me sixty seconds."

"What do you mean?" the woman asks.

"You want to show the world all these bad me, and my investigation's just getting in your way."

"No, Aaron. You're not doing your job!" she yells. Your eyes widen in recognition at the exact moment you figure out who this woman is. You cover your mouth to keep your gasp from getting out. "You don't want to arrest me and don't want me in custody because you're in their pocket. You just want me to disappear, just like they do."

"Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you. You've been betrayed so many times. You don't know who to trust, and that's why that first murder felt so good. However, each one since has been less and less satisfying. You know that's going to continue. Am I right?"

"Yeah," she whispers.

"Come to me and turn yourself in. I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear.

"If we met under different circumstances, I could believe that. I won't let you cover this up."

A gunshot goes off on the other line before she clicks off. She's killed another man, another victim in her pocket.

"Garcia, talk to me," Derek says.

Penelope got the location of the phone call, but as you suspected, the man, Trent Rabner, was already dead inside his car. The only thing to go off of is the phone call she had with Hotch, and it's only until everyone is back at the station do you reveal where you know her from.

"I know who our unsub is."

"You do? How?" Hotch asks.

"The first time I saw her energy at the office firm in the elevator, I recognized it immediately. I came across this woman at some point in my life. The next crime scene only made me realize not only did I come across her, I actually knew her. Then, I heard her speak over the phone and when she got so angry, it clicked in my head.

"Her name is Megan Kane, and I went to high school with her here in Dallas. I caught her and a teacher having sex which resulting him getting fired. She became the laughingstock immediately. Everyone was talking about it. She got so pissed at me, but our unsub is her. My high school is having a reunion, and I'll put all my money on her being there tonight. One of the lawyers we talked to will also be there. He might have seen her or talked to her. He was one of her best friend's boyfriends in high school."

"Have Garcia get us everything she can on Megan Kane," Hotch says. "Morgan and Prentiss, go talk to the lawyer and see if he knows anything."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[amaya-writes]

heyyy, i was stalking your work and really love it! i was wondering if you could do a hc for the haikyuu setters? just something along the lines that y/n was with the team, they got bored so, they decided to do a little vb game with y/n and one of the spikers hit y/n in the face a little too hard lol and the setters tend to them and just spend the rest of the night with them just caring for them. sorry if this doesn’t make sense! i hope you’re having a good day and resting well!

Notes: I'm glad you said hcs because otherwise this would have taken forever to write also I don't really use the term y/n in fanfics so I'm sorry if you wanted that-

Warnings: n/a just fluff, slight mentions of blood tho

Characters involved: Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio, Miya Atsumu, Sugawara Koshi

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Oikawa Tooru

Thinks it's funny, but he doesn't laugh.

At first, he just walks over to you and checks if you're okay, once he's certain you're okay then he'll purposely take a couple minutes off to sit on the sidelines with you as an excuse to goof around.

"Don't worry darling, I will avenge your wounded nose- and ego."

Gets smacked on the head by Iwaizumi and is forced to return to the court while you sit on the sidelines and watch the game.

But Oikawa is quick to return to your side during breaks and gloat about how he destroyed the other team to avenge you.

Overall, he doesn't really take the situation very seriously since he knows it was just a small injury.

It's why he wouldn't really bother with cuddling you to make you feel better or anything since Oikawa thinks it's really no big deal.

But he will cuddle you to make up for the hour or so you were forced to just sit on the sidelines and watch them play.

Is the type to try and hug you right after the match when he's all sweaty and pretends to be offended when you run away from him.

Kageyama Tobio

The other person better say their prayers because Kageyama is fuming at the sight of your injury.

He calms down a little once he sees you laughing about it and joking about war scars with Sugawara (who immediately went into mom mode and took care of your injury while Kageyama death stared the person who hit you) but he's still pretty mad about the whole ordeal.

Kageyama is the type to apologise to you for getting hit since he was the one who asked you to come but also calls you an idiot for getting hit in the first place.

His Tsundere ass will go back to the game and insist you just sit and watch but also turn to look at you like every five seconds to the point where Ukai just kind of subs Sugawara in for the last few mins.

Once the two of you are alone and walking home together he'll insist on holding your hand and ask you if your nose is okay like five times.

He won't actually cuddle you either unless you initiate it but unlike Oikawa, Kageyama is worried about you.

It's easy for you to see that with the way he nervously turns away every time your eyes lock because he still thinks the injury is his fault.

But Kageyama does kiss you on your nose before leaving and tells you to ice it so it can heal, and that gesture shows you just how much he cares for you.

Miya Atsumu

Is concerned at first but then finds it funny.

He also blames Osamu for you getting hit just for shits and giggles and then the two of them get into a (not so serious) argument while Kita actually patches you up.

Does the 'I'm going to win this match to avenge you baby' thing then proceeds to lose because their coach made him and Osamu play on different teams so he literally just spent the match trying to aim his serves at his brother.

Once you're both heading home and he somehow convinces you to go over to the Miya household, Atsumu is actually the one who has to be cuddled rather than you because he's upset he lost.

Will literally just lay on you and whine for a bit before he remembers about your injury and peppers your face with kisses.

Ends up forcing Osamu to cook for you because you lost blood (was a couple of drops) and just cuddles you the entire night on the couch while watching a movie.

Sugawara Koushi

The only one who's actually concerned and rushes to your side immediately.

He'll abandon the game for a bit to make sure you're okay and fix up your wound (band aid and all) and then go back to playing.

But once he's done Suga's right back by your side asking you if you're feeling okay and making Daichi go get you ice for the small bruise that formed.

He calms down once they're completely done with practice and have cleaned up, but expect the occasional question about your wounds when you're walking together.

Suga does like physical affection so expect to constantly have an arm or hand on you while he does cheesy things like spoon-feeding you at the restaurant the team drops by (lowkey loves how embarrassed you get because of the PDA).

He might even cuddle you through the night depending on the severity of the wound or just kiss you at your door and text you through the night until you fall asleep.

[iam93percentstardust]

Hello friend!! Let’s make the stony fandom more vibrant! Tell me:

Favorite stony meta

Stony fic idea that you want to write but haven’t gotten to yet

Three most recent stony fics you read and why you liked them

🥰🥰🥰🥰

Henlo fren! Thanks for the ask!

Favorite stony meta

Oh god, I could talk about the dynamics between Tony, Steve, and Howard all day long. There's so much complication going on there. And I think it's a really interesting choice on the MCU's part not to write Howard and Steve as best friends. I went back and rewatched CATFA the other day, and it really struck me that Steve views Howard with a measure of awe (because of the things he creates and the fact that he seems to actually understand women where Steve doesn't) and a measure of wariness (for the same reasons), but they're not really friends. We don't see Howard spending time with the Howlies outside of strategy meetings, he's not in either of the bar scenes, and Steve never smiles around him. And on the flip side, up until Steve's death, Howard is fairly condescending towards Steve (at least towards his intelligence, given his remarks about Steve not understanding the Hydra tech). Honestly, I think that a lot of Howard's adoration for Steve came about only after Steve's death. It's easier to look up to a martyr, after all, than a living, breathing superhuman. And it would have been easy for Howard to convincingly claim that he'd admired Steve all along since he, like Tony, uses masks as easily as breathing

Stony fic idea I want to write

Ooh I've had this idea for an interactive reality show AU for literal years at this point, but I've been too intimidated to write it. The idea would be, as I said, a reality show AU with Steve and Tony as the judges, who are already in a relationship and have to deal with outside forces trying to break them up during the course of the season. The interactive part comes in with the fact that the actual reality show would be based on readers' votes. The Stevetony storyline would be pre-planned and completely independent of the reality show storyline. The reality show storyline would be written in real time, though, or as near to it as possible, and characters would be voted off as the readers vote.

As I said, I'm horribly intimidated by it. The interactive aspect makes me very, very nervous. I'm afraid to start writing it and then find out that no one is as interested in the concept as I am, so no one votes. I've had a couple times in the last few years where people claimed to be really excited to read something that I worked really hard on only to get 2-3 regular readers, and I'm just afraid for that to happen here. If it were any other fic, I'd be fine with it, but the fact that it's a fic that would rely on the readership in a time when people are more and more resentful of writers asking for interaction... Well, let's just say this fic is one that'll probably stay in the ideas folder.

Three most recent stony fics

Tomorrow We'll Be Born Again by KandiSheek: I love angsty fics where they think it's time to walk away because obviously the other one doesn't love them and it's over and their heart is breaking only to find out that no, the love is still there, they just don't know how to show it <3

In Written by naivelittleprincess: I like fics that do something clever with the formatting, and a love story written in post-it notes is right up my alley <3 It's funny and clever and super sweet. Defs recommend it for anyone who likes unusual styles

speak easy, swing hard by laiqualaurelote: Prohibition AUs, my beloved. I love 1920s fics, especially because I'll never write one of my own, and I love pre-serum Steve. I don't want to spoil the twist, but you should definitely read this one <3

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Death by Exposure

Written for the Phic Phight Prompts: At first Danny had been worried sick that Wes had figured out that he was Phantom, but when no one believed him it had sort of become funny. Still, after the anti-ecto act, and the GIW, and his own parents very public very violently vitriolic screeds against ghosts, Danny had to wonder what he'd ever done to Wes that the guy would risk exposing Danny to all that. (from @hpwotters-blog, or at least I think that's you're tumblr.), and Wes Weston wakes up to find an injured Phantom on the fire escape. (from @half-deadmagicperson)

Other prompts that will be included in later chapters but aren't in this one:

With how much time he spends on basketball and his delusional conspiracy theories, no one would ever suspect that Wes Weston has another secret hobby… (from @kadziduo)

And Wes has been spending more and more time around Fenton and Co. lately - hey! he’s only trying to get some much-needed evidence against them, not trying to get all buddy-buddy with them. And anyway, they’re an entirely annoying bunch, so he wholeheartedly blames them for the fact that he’s currently being monologued at by the ghost holding him hostage. (from @a-closet-emo)

Chapter 2: Exposome

AO3 Link

[Warnings for: violence, blood (ectoplasm) and injury, and guns]

Much to Danny's relief, everything continued on more or less as normal. His classmates didn't shoot ecto-blasts him while he walked down the halls, the G.I.W. didn't raid his house to abduct him for experimentation, and no matter what had been said at that presentation, the school's generally positive opinion of Phantom had remained intact, just like Sam had said it would.

The only thing that really changed was that most of the student body started wearing Fenton Wrist Rays to school. Some of the girls customized them by painting them with nail polish or gluing rhinestones to them. One girl even soldered tiny loops onto hers so she could attach charms to it. They were an accessory more than a weapon, now, and Danny found his worry subsiding.

Another thing that didn't change was Wes Weston. "I'm telling you people! Look at this!" He held up a picture of Danny with photoshopped white hair and green eyes. "Tell me he doesn't look like Phantom! You can't!"

"Yeah, and I bet if you photoshopped white hair on a picture of yourself, you'd look like Phantom too," one of the cheerleaders heckled.

"You know, there's a really easy way to prove if he's Phantom or not," an upperclassman pointed out, holding up his wrist to show off the silver bracelet there in demonstration. "These ray things don't hurt humans, right? If you really wanna prove he's Phantom, you can just give him a little zap, and see what happens."

Wes looked at the upperclassman, mouth agape in horror. "I'm not gonna shoot him!" he said, aghast at the very idea. Wes didn't even wear his wrist ray to school, and tended to scoff at the assertion that ghosts were all that dangerous at all. "I wanna prove he's Phantom not put him in the hospital."

"Uh-huh, sure." The junior scoffed and shook his head. "Sounds to me like you just don't want us all to see how wrong actually you are."

"Harmless or not, you know we're not allowed to shoot those things at each other," Sam interrupted harshly. "Unless you want detention, I suggest you put a sock in it. Come on Danny."

He followed her to their usual lunch table with Tucker right behind him. 

"I guess you guys were right about Wes not wanting to hurt me," Danny noted as they took their seats. "He may be an asshole, but it's nice to know he has some standards." Just as Danny was about to take a bite of his sandwich he felt his ghost sense go off and his breath misted in front of him. He put his food down with a deep, deep sigh. "I gotta ghost. If I'm not back by the time class starts, take notes for me, okay?"

"You got it, dude," Tucker said. "Do what you gotta do."

Danny sprinted to the bathroom to transform and then took off to deal with Cujo, who'd apparently decided to terrorize a pick-up game of catch on the football field by chasing the ball and tackling the players. Thankfully, Danny would definitely be able to take care of it before Valerie caught wind, but it gave him a bit of a scare when he got there and saw that one of players had activated their wrist ray and was trying to shoot Cujo.

"Stop that! Don't hurt him!" Danny shouted, firing a warning shot in front of the guy's feet to make him back off. "He's just trying to play with you. He doesn't know any better. Cujo! Come!" Cujo turned to look at Danny and happily trotted over to him, tongue lolling. "Good boy." Danny knelt to scratch Cujo behind the ears.

The little dog hadn't even gotten too excited and grown to the size of a shed, and yet these kids had tried to shoot him anyway. Thank the Ancients that they respected Phantom enough to stop when he told them to.

"Is he... friendly?" asked the guy who'd shot at Cujo, cautiously deactivating his wrist ray.

"Oh yeah," Danny assured. "And he's actually well-trained, too, but if he gets over-excited, well, he becomes a bigger problem. He's still friendly, but he's just a dog, and he doesn't know his own strength sometimes."

"Can I pet him?"

"Sure," Danny said. "He won't mind." The student let Cujo sniff his hand before stroking the dog's head.

"Ha," he was clearly amazed that he was able to do something like this at all, and his mouth fell open in awe. "Woah, he feels so weird, like if water could hold a shape."

"You mean like ice?" scoffed one of the other guys he'd been playing catch with.

"No, man! I can't describe it. You gotta feel it for yourself."

Skeptically, the other guy came closer and did the same as the first, cautiously stroking the dog's fur. Cujo rolled over to let them pet his belly, basking in the attention. "Oh, wow that does feel weird."

"I know, right?!"

"Sorry to cut this short, but I really need to get Cujo out of here before Valerie finds him, because she kind of blames him for ruining her life."

"Why's that?"

"Because he kind of accidentally ruined her life," Danny answered with a shrug scooping the dog up. Cujo wriggled for a moment, getting comfortable in Danny's arms before popping his head up, excited for the flight. The nearby students all said goodbye to both Phantom and Cujo. The two who'd been brave enough to pet him thanked Phantom for that opportunity.

Flying home with the ghost dog in his arms to usher him through the Fenton Portal, Danny grinned with relief, and hope. It seemed like the students of Casper High were more inclined to trust Phantom over the government. Maybe he could even convince them that what they were learning about ghosts was wrong, that ghosts could think and feel just like humans did.

After sneakily dropping Cujo off in the Ghost Zone, Danny flew back to school, but a newspaper vending machine stopped him in his tracks. The front page headline read "Phantom menace poisoning the minds of our schoolchildren!" It was an article about how Phantom was supposedly brainwashing the local youth into liking and trusting him. It warned parents to remind their children that all ghosts were evil, and dangerous, even if they appeared to act otherwise.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Danny flew the rest of the way back invisibly.

All Danny's hopes were dashed in short order as the situation grew steadily worse. The school installed ghost detector alarms that would wail anytime Danny got within six feet of them in his human form, which of course had Wes chomping at the bit to scream, "Fenton is Phantom! He keeps setting off the ghost detectors! If that's not proof, I don't know what is!"

"Danny got ecto-contaminated from one of our parents experiments a while ago," Jazz said calmly as she passed them in the hall. "If he was a ghost he would activate them from much further away."

"Yeah, what she said," Danny agreed. That, at least, was true. When he turned into Phantom, any ghost detector within thirty feet of him went off. His human form suppressed his ecto-signature enough to sow doubt in Wes' theory.

Danny's parents started giving speeches in the park about "ghost safety" that basically consisted of them spewing vitriolic ghost hate for an hour straight, and teaching ordinary people how to kill ghosts. They made Danny come to their first speech. When it was over he locked himself in his room until the morning, skipping dinner because he felt too nauseated to eat anything. 

Eventually, the propaganda started to work, and even some people at school started to believe that ghosts were evil. There were still others who disagreed, some because they wanted to believe in their ghostly hero and others simply to spite their parents, as teenagers were wont to do.

The worst was when the government gave approval for the G.I.W. to start doing anti-ghost patrols in Amity Park. Danny tried to go out as Phantom less, by the Ancients he tried, but despite their improved training, the G.I.W. just couldn't hold up to certain stronger ghosts, and they weren't immune to overshadowing either. Besides that, Danny had to protect the ghosts too.

It was one thing to let the G.I.W. chase them off, but they tried to capture ghosts for experimentation as much as possible, which Danny couldn't let fly. He wasn't about to let even his worst enemies go through anything like that. Then there were the ghosts that specifically targeted Danny, like Skulker, and forced him to transform and fight, disregarding the danger to both of them. Taking all that into consideration, try though he did, Danny actually ended up as Phantom even more often than before.

With so much more being piled onto his plate, Wes' continued campaign to expose Danny's secret stopped being funny again, and became annoying, and eventually, Danny was forced to wonder why. Why was Wes still so determined to expose him?

Surely he wasn't completely blind to everything going on. He had to know that there were laws in place that stripped Danny of all his rights as a human being, just because he had ectoplasm in him. He must have heard about all the vile things Danny's own parents said about Phantom during their "ghost safety" speeches. And there was absolutely no way the G.I.W. patrols could've escaped Wes' notice.

So why? What had Danny ever done to Wes that he would risk exposing—no, that he would do everything in his power to expose Danny to all of that? Sure, Danny had messed with him a little, had teased him, but so what? He'd never done anything to Wes that put him at risk of being dissected. What had Danny done to deserve all this?

Danny had feared Wes once, then laughed at him, then vaguely disliked him, but now Danny had grown to actually hate the guy. He resented Wes for continuing his potentially deadly efforts against Danny as the stakes rose ever higher.

Then the unthinkable happened. The G.I.W caught up to Phantom, shot him out of the sky. Danny took two shots to the back, one to the side, and one to the leg before was able to give them the slip by turning intangible and traveling underground.

It was spring break. Sam's family had dragged her into some fancy retreat that they wouldn't let her worm her way out of. Jazz was touring out-of-state colleges with their mom, and they wouldn't be back until the following afternoon. Tucker had gone to his family reunion. Danny had assured them that he would be okay. He'd promised he'd be careful.

And now he was bleeding out. Ectoplasm and flecks of blood soaked his jumpsuit, and he was sure he'd broken several bones when he'd fallen out of the sky and hit the ground hard. He couldn't go home, not in this condition. The house's ghost defenses would finish him off in an instant. He could go to his friend's places, but there would be no one there to help him, and he couldn't properly treat the wounds on his back by himself. He needed help. He needed someone who knew, who wouldn't hand him over to his parents or the Guys in White.

And he needed them fast because he could tell he was about to pass out, and he couldn't risk someone finding him unconscious and calling the G.I.W. on him. There was only one option available to him. Reluctantly, he flew west, huge drips of ectoplasm falling rapidly from his open wounds, splattering on the street below. The ecto-blasts had singed his skin too badly, preventing him from healing as fast as he normally did. The edges of his vision started to blacken as he flew sluggishly, awkwardly through the air, barely avoiding another anti-ghost patrol.

Finally, he reached his destination.

His only chance.

He landed heavily on the fire escape with a loud clang. The second his feet hit the metal, his knees buckled and he blacked out momentarily, unable to go any further. So there he was, helpless and injured, outside the bedroom window of none other than Wes fucking Weston, desperately hoping he hadn't just made a huge mistake.

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[floradinterlunium]

Preference is the Fruit of Love

 So as Jikookers we all know one thing to be true! Jikook gravitate towards one another, often showing a very clear preference for each others company over others. This preference is made more obvious when members are around because it is in these moments that we see them form this almost exclusive impenetrable bubble around themselves creating an “Us” and “Them” environment.  While unintentional, it nevertheless happens. 

One of the best examples of this the 2019 Boys with Luv Comeback Special filmed in NYC. Before I get into my opinions of this moment, I want you to watch the moment I am speaking about. It starts at 5:03 and ends at 7:01 (P.S. I chose this video because it clips out the parts I am talking about).

Now this moment starts off with Jikook being separated. Jk is seated with Jin and RM, while Jm is seated with Tae and Hobi. They don’t look unhappy separated they are laughing and goofing around, mostly JK poking fun of JM’s origin story. 

However, when teams are decided JK becomes incredibly happy. He’s super giddy to change teams. One can say it’s because he also is happy about being on a team with the entire Maknae line but the proof of why he’s really happy is what he does when switches sides. He walks over smiling at JM and then proceeds to tap JM’s shoulders with his paper.

JK is happy to be on a team with JM. Which is funny seeing that JM is notorious for losing games, while JK is the Golden Maknae who enjoys winning. That aside...JK is happy to be on the same team as JM. And JM is clearly happy to be on the same team as JK seeing as his whole body language shifts and his attention turns away from Tae and the rest of the group to 100% JK. Not 50% or 80%...100%.

Jikook spend the entire game in their own little bubble, sadly leaving Tae out the entire time. They don’t consult him about answers, they spend the game whispering to each other and acting as though the team is just them! I mean look at  the distance they’ve created between themselves and Tae, and look at Tae’s expression. He looks bored and not happy because he’s being left out. Even the editors noted it with the “Guys, please play with V.” I genuinely don’t think Tae likes being paired with Jikook for games because this happens. You put them together they enter their own world. I am almost certain Jimin said as much on a live once. He said something along the lines of “I would call JK but when we are together we become laser focused and forget to communicate with Army.” And we see that very statement come to life all the times when they are together. 

Above is another example of them forgetting others exist. You might think they are alone but spot the broad shoulders peaking from behind Jimin and you’ll find RM. The entire time he’s paired with them it’s like he doesn’t exist. 

Or...what about the time they invited Hobi to join them to practice Busan Dialect with them and then forgot they invited him. Or the time they were live as a group and Tae had to separate them.

This is a habit they have that is not exclusive to one member. i do think it bothers Tae and Rm the most but still they do it to all members. The Boys with Love Comeback Special shows it the best to me though...because from the get go JK showed how happy he was to be sitting with JM and JM alone, and JM showed his happiness by closing any and all distance between them. Also sadly, Tae’s displeasure makes it very obvious. 

I’ve honestly never seen two people so naturally create a sort of force field around them the way Jikook do. If you let them get in their zone it’s hard to break them out of it, and from what I gather members rarely try to. They just let them do their thing. In all the behind the scenes moments, rehearsal moments what do we see? We see Jikook goofing off while members don’t bother/willfully ignore them. They don’t ask many questions, they do occasionally give them a death glare (tried to find a clearer shot but trust me Hobi is glaring hard at them) but mostly they leave them be because it becomes more awkward when you break them up.

[cityandking]

1, 14, 23, 42 for dairef, middy/eniko and um [checks notes] dai/ozy for a laugh

thanks my dear!! // send me a ship

1. How do they fall asleep? Wake up? Any daily rituals?

DAI/ZAREF — I feel in my heart that they're both disciplined about keeping regular bedtimes (quest permitting) and waking up early. dai is always up with the sun to go pray/meditate, and then after he and zaref will spar, and then it's time to wash up and make breakfast (daichi cooks). MIDDY/ENIKO — eniko will stay up late no matter how hard middy tries to coax him to bed, but the longer they're together the more that means staying in bed with a book/tablet/computer as she falls asleep (if he's having a particularly restless night he'll leave the room so he doesn't bother her and come to bed much later—though it's always a bit of a challenge navigating the millions of pillows that spawn in bed when middy is around). mornings are a little easier—it's a tossup who wakes up first, but they'll both the other one sleep in whenever possible. waking up slow and all that. DAI/OZY — this is so funny. given ozy's current *waves hand* everything, I'm imagining daichi turns in first (always on schedule) and ozy shows up whenever (some time after the moon is in the sky). in the morning, daichi is still up early which probably means ozy is too. maybe he has coffee ready for them when dai finishes with his morning prayers

14. Anything they both dread?

DAI/ZAREF — they're equally invested in not losing the other one to the Void or some other horrible death (zaref has been much better at avoiding this than daichi). I think they're also both a little trepidatious about the Void-ified Underdark right now. MIDDY/ENIKO — I don't think their dreads intersect a whole lot, actually. broadly speaking there's the "something bad happening to the person I care about" fear, but their specific dreads move kind of in opposite directions—middy spends a lot of energy thinking about other people and eniko spends a lot of energy thinking about himself (I think maybe depending on the AU they'd both dread whatever's going on with loreth—middy because it's loreth, and eniko because it'll hurt middy) DAI/OZY — they're on the same page quite often about the bad situations they're walking into and the relative unpleasantness of them, but they're also both the kind of person who will just grit their teeth and do it, so I'm not sure dread is the right word. I guess they're both confirmed Not Fans Of The Traveler

23. How do they hug? Kiss? Tease? Flirt? Comfort?

DAI/ZAREF — daichi is Bad at flirting and also not great at teasing, but he gives a great hug. he is also very good at kissing zaref, because he's a good student and a quick study and zaref's preferences are the only ones he has experience with. zaref is good at flirting (and teasing) and daichi, despite being an awkward little dude, very much enjoys it when zaref goes through the trouble of flirting with him. they exchange a lot of physical comfort—hugs, touches, etc—and they're also better about talking things out directly than they used to be. MIDDY/ENIKO — they're a surprisingly tactile couple given eniko's endless issues. good hugs, very good kisses, lots of flirting and teasing. for eniko that's all fun, easy stuff he doesn't have to think too hard about, and he enjoys doing it with middy. comfort is harder. he's bad at giving comfort and really bad at accepting it; he'd rather nurse his hurt like a bruise than let anyone try to comfort him. it's maybe one of the most difficult parts of their relationship DAI/OZY — sorry this is so funny. um. I don't think they hug. I think there could be some really weird (read: fun) power dynamics to explore with how they kiss. ozy is both the tease and the flirt in this relationship, though daichi gets a certain sort of entertainment out of stonewalling him. (this is actually also flirting, in a "I know you can do better than that" kind of way. like I said. weird power dynamics.) ozy is canonically Bad at comfort, and dai doesn't try to comfort ozy so much as he tries to talk through thorny issues and concepts. I think maybe there's a kind of comfort in that though? like he's willing to meet ozy where he is for those conversations

42. Do they let each other get away with things that would normally bother them?

DAI/ZAREF — dai definitely lets zaref get away with more shit than anyone else. I feel like zaref is general inclined to let people get away with stuff, dai included (ozy is an outlier etc) but idk I don't hold the zaref lore. daichi's much more patient and gentler and inclined to look the other way with zaref than pretty much anyone else, sometimes to an unhealthy degree, tho it's been better recently MIDDY/ENIKO — yes, but mostly in the sense that the things that would normally bother him don't bother him when it's middy. she can get away with so much, and she knows this. (middy tends to let people get away with plenty that they shouldn't, so eniko tries to hold himself to a higher standard for her sake, particularly when it comes to communicating and being available) DAI/OZY — absolutely not. if anything ozy gets away with less than other people would. daichi's calling him on everything.

[ddejavvu]

ohh i have SUCH a controversial jennifer jareau opinion. and this is probably gonna be more like an essay. i wish i could say i was sorry.

everyone always says theyre anti jj slander, which is fine ofc, but just weird bc i NEVER see anyone slandering her. in my 3 years in the fandom, ive seen it happen maybe 5 times total, which sucks because she deserves so. much. more. hate.

(spoilers for *that* jeid plotline, as well as some other things)

in season 7, spencer tells her that she has mean girl vibes and she replies "i was a nice girl, especially to guys like you" which ALWAYS pissed me off because she literally just confirmed what he said? and everyone acts like it was a funny joke. she said that shit with her whole chest and meant it, and it wouldnt be *that* big of a deal if it was the only time. but shes consistently mean to him throughout the show, ignoring him, walking away, etc. spencer isnt even the only one shes like this to. and she just has a sense of superiority, idk how to describe it. just by the way she talks and interacts with those around her, you can tell. (while we're on that note, she also ignores her privileged a LOT. maybe not all the time, but theres been multiple times where she acts like she went through hell to get where she is. other than her sister passing, she had it completely easy. in terms of resources, opportunities, etc., she was basically born with a golden spoon in her mouth.)

in s14 when she confesses to spencer that shes always been in love with him, it just makes my blood boil. obviously he had been over her a long time (imo), but that was something she should've kept to herself bc it just brought alllll those feelings back to the surface. not to mention that hes the godfather of her children, and shes married, and will probably (definitely) doesnt know how she feels. thats literally emotional cheating on her part, even though reid didnt reciprocate it, it was still wrong of her to be that close to him without will knowing how she really felt.

there are other things i dont like abt her too, but those are the main things and im trying to keep this as short as possible. but i literally cant stand her, shes by far my least favorite character, and everyone acts like shes an angel sent from heaven, when really shes just a privileged bitch.

i like JJ a lot (i want her to be my mom </3) but i do agree with several of your points - she's definitely not the worst character, each and every character has a list of flaws that we could make, so this by no means makes her the worst, but it does make me angry <3

i just rewatched that 'mean girl' episode!! she doesn't even hesitate before saying 'guys like you', which, you're totally right, means he was right, and she was definitely a mean girl in high school. or even if she didn't say any of it out loud, she was still silently judging 'guys like him' and in high school you can always tells who's silently judging you. they're teenagers. they're not silent about it. the nasty looks they give you?? oh man. but i do think that the blame for ignoring spencer needs to be placed on all of the team members, because they do it all the time too, it's not just her. she has some pretty bad moments with him, but it's definitely something they all do and she shouldn't take the full blame

lmao don't talk about jeid. the writers actually deserve the death penalty for that, god it was so nasty and weird. i know that it was something she confessed in the heat of the moment, like she wasn't sure she was gonna make it out alive and didn't wanna die without saying it but ??? WHY WOULD YOU PUT IT ON HIM TO DIE THREE SECONDS AFTER FINDING OUT ??? like great it's off your chest but now he's gonna spend the (very short) rest of his life thinking about it?? AND THEN THEY DIDN'T EVEN DIE LMFAO SO HE WAS JUST STUCK WITH THAT !! and yeah!! will!! what about will!! or her kids!! it was so... writers i'm watching you...

one scene of hers that really pissed me off was in reid's kidnapping two-parter in s2 (the hankel incident) where she was almost attacked by those rabid (?) dogs and she shot them and she's obviously shaken up and she tries finding reid and realizes what happened and she feels so much guilt for splitting up with him - which was not her fault, she didn't know and should not be held responsible for what happened to him - that she started trying to make other people mad at her?? she cornered derek who was grieving and stressed at the loss of his best friend and they're both sleep deprived and she says something like 'admit it, you hate me, you think it's my fault' AND I???? GIRL. he is being so nice to you?? he was literally like oh honey if you need time off i know you're really shaken up and we can take care of this and and and AND SHE WAS LIKE oH yeah suRe just admit it i'm the worSt everybody hATEs mE- I WAS... this is not about you. go get therapy for the dog attack that you just almost suffered?? do not stand around a crime scene and pester the victim's best friend and delay the investigation because you're feeling guilty. go talk to someone about it. take a few days off. again, i totally get that she was shaken up and hopped up on adrenaline, but everyone told her to go get some rest and she was like no i think i will make myself the problem instead <3

all of that being said i still love her </3 i was not kidding when i say that i wish she was my mom holy shit i would have loved to grow up as her kid but she definitely has her flaws just like the rest of the BAU, and logical, critical breakdowns of a characters flaws aren't slandering, they're analysis, so i think everybody needs to stop shitting on people who criticize or analyze their faves lmao

send me your unpopular fandom opinions

[i-love-you-all]

Valorant Revelations cinematic

Just got home and watched it for the first time so here are initial thoughts ig? I spend a lot of time on figuring out HQ location lol.

It’s nice on a more personal note that the training range was shown a little more because I’ve set/will continue to set quite a few scenes from my own writing there. But it’s nice to know that injury/death is theoretically possible (and the Sova VM confirmed this latter part)

I’m pretty sure it’s basically confirmed that at least Valorant Legion all live in different places and get called when a threat is detected. I wonder if it’s supposed to call in the closest agents though or just ones best suited to fight against the threat.

If you think back to the Pearl cinematic, Sova, Phoenix and Yoru were called in. Since it’s in Portugal, it would make sense for Sova and Phoenix to get called in as they’re both in the EU, Britain and northwest Russia, but It had me thinking... well... where was KJ, assuming she spends more time in Germany (which she may not). How was Yoru, who def does spend time in Japan, called in as well?

Additionally in this cinematic, why was Sage called but not Omen? They were in the same place at the same time. There was no controller on that team and real life for them would probably work differently from the game, but... smokes are great utility! I suppose it could be that It had to be between Sage and Omen if KJ, Raze, and Jett were all closer, and Sage has more leadership qualities considering the existing team?

If we follow the theory that it calls the closest agents possible though, we can start to rule out places where the Valorant HQ on the mirrored world isn’t. It wasn’t close enough to Lisbon to get called on over Yoru (unless Yoru was at base). But it was close enough to India that Istanbul, and Korea were closer.

Actually scrap that, because then Japan would’ve def been closer than HQ, right? Unless this is a hybrid thing and it calls the agents best suited to the mission in priority order of location? Which would still suggest that Valorant HQ is not on NA. Idk anything more specific and even that is just conjecture lol.

Sage’s locker was cool, Haven pre-kingdom (or maybe kingdom never took it over? Is that too much to hope for?) There’s a sign that I think says not just a/your healer which is funny. The Raze graffiti :))

(Sage is buff tho, and not enough fan content shows her like that) Though, most agents should be buff if they’re part of valorant because handling guns does take quite a bit of arm/shoulder strength esp to handle recoil.

Assuming Lotus has some radianite artifact that Astra/Harbor are looking into? Wonder why Yoru didn’t join?

It’s fun to look at Omen’s smoke and realize it’s not as clear on the inside like in game. (and look! sage can still self-heal!) So ig that’s our reminder that in game mechanics aren’t constantly linked with the same abilities in the story.

Also, I’m gonna assume that Fade was looking for clues related to the disappearance of the person she cared about? I had a fun thought that perhaps this version of Valorant stole Alpha (?) Fade’s person but that’s now proven wrong.

Astra’s so pretty. Her eyeshadow :))

I guess I wonder how Valorant Protocol is sending agents to other locations in the other Earth’s world? Was it not just linked to Pearl’s portal? Or did they like, hack other portals too or whatever they did.

But yeah I wish more lore was brought out about the artifacts, but I assume they wanted to show the map off first, so maybe it’ll be part of the reveal for the actual map? Fingers crossed.