#we are both queuing this post like. at the same hour as each other

[psystirene]

Slugcat Shipruary 3 - Full Moon

Using my OWN designs this time... yippee! This is an edited version of my Gourmand design (made it lighter) and I adapted an old Nightcat design of mine to better fit this style (+ my theme of making this look like 🌖. you know)

Uhmmm ngl this ship grew on me a lot drawing this. As I've said before I have a soft spot for it since it was one of the first I thought about <3 So among the adjustments, I made Nightcat a bit chunkier, as I imagine Gourmand spoils the colony once they come home with so many new foods and recipes. Nightcat reads the stars to help their colony navigate the world. I imagine maybe they're somewhat of an inventor like Gourmand is, so they are always learning off of each other, though Gourm spends more time leading the group and Nightcat has more time to experiment with the new plants and objects they find on their travels. Also i think Nightcat would have the Mark of Communication from the beginning <3

anyone like rambles. I like rambles. hi shipruary people

[igotyupls]

GYM BRO’s? GYM HOES!

(SNSD Choi Sooyoung x Male reader) rewritten!! WC: 3440 + also if u previously read it then read after the keep reading, from then on ive added and changed the story

Sooyoung stumbled into the brightly lit 24-hour gym at stupid o'clock in the morning, unable to stay still in her apartment . With SNSD’s big summer/late-summer comeback announced, her schedule was absolutely shit lately between vocal training, choreography bootcamp hell, and a new diet that had her craving carbs 24/7. 

Call her crazy, but a good workout sounded way more appealing than yet another hour tossing and turning in bed. 

The location near their dorm was usually blissfully empty at ass o’clock in the morning too - perfect for looking like a disgusting post-workout mess without judgment. She swiped her membership card at the empty front desk, earbuds already queued up with a stupid EDM mix. 

Rounding the corner towards the cardio equipment though, Sooyoung came to an abrupt halt. 

Wait a damn minute...was that...a guy? 

Working out alone in the free weights corner? Well crap, so much for having the place to herself, she thought.

Squinting across the room, she vaguely recognized him - one of their fan-sites maybe? He seemed just as startled to no longer be alone, nearly dropping the dumbbell in his hand with a awkward fumble. 

“Oh shit! Sooyoung-ssi?” His eyes bugged wide, literally about to pop out, “Shit, sorry, I didn’t think anyone else would be here this late...” 

Sooyoung snorted, shifting her gym bag higher on one shoulder. “You and me both, dude.” An awkward silence passed of them just standing there staring. *sigh* no use being a bitch about it, she decided. Gym’s open 24/7 to members, even nosy fanboys. 

Tossing him a casual chin jerk goodbye, she headed towards the treadmills. 

“Well don’t let me mess up your sesh or anything,” she called over one shoulder, queueing up her go-to cardio playlist. Setting her phone on the ledge, Sooyoung hopped up on the belt and started jogging.

The familiar burn soon had her zoning out - eyes fixed on her reflection in the big wall of mirrors, volume cranked enough to drown out any other noise. 

Including the sound of fumbling weights behind her...as the same flustered fanboy now seemed incapable of  looking away from Sooyoung's sweaty reflection. His eyes tracked her bouncing boobs barely contained in the old Nike sports bra, and down to those leggings leaving nothing to imagination with each pounding step. 

((a/n: so for the sake of my sanity we’ll all pretend this is a treadmill and that the fila is a Nike, alright? Good.🫡))

Sooyoung noticed the attention after a few minutes, torn between rolling her eyes or biting back a smug grin. Fan service was part of the job after all - but she also knew damn well what she looked like working out in minimal fabrics. Didn’t mean she enjoyed feeling ogled like a piece of meat, but the ego boost was kinda nice. 

Nearly 45 minutes and 5 miles later however, tiredness sank in as Sooyoung began cooling down to a walk. 

Her leg muscles felt more like limp udon noodles at this point, chest heaving to gulp oxygen. Risking a glance behind her, she noted the fan seemed to be wrapping up his own workout now too - re-racking an impressive set of heavy dumbbells across the open floor space.

Sooyoung slid her feet to a stop on the treadmill, skin sticky with sweat. She bent down to stretch her quads and muscles briefly, back to the weight area. 

When she straightened up from touching her toes, the guy was much closer than expected - openly staring with those wide dark eyes.

"Feeling pretty bold over here aren't we?" Sooyoung arched an eyebrow, unflustered. His mouth snapped shut audibly, face and neck flushing darker.

"S-sorry noona!" he stammered, glancing away and raking a hand through his messy black hair. "I just uh...wanted to say nice workout? You really seem like you know what you're doing..." His awkward compliment trailed off into uncertainty, still avoiding direct eye contact.

Sooyoung couldn't help chuckling internally at just how shy this random fan was at interacting with her one-on-one, especially with so much exposed skin on display. She had to admit she didn't exactly mind the shy flattery. After over a decade pressure-cooking in the entertainment industry, it was actually sort of refreshing.

"I thought maintaining stamina is important for those long music show rehearsal hours," she replied easily, straightening up with a slight groan as her abdomen muscles protest. 

Noticing the guy's eyes follow the flex of her defined abs, she had to hide another smirk. Too easy.

"But clearly you know what you're doing too," Sooyoung continued with a glance at the impressive set of free weights he had been using earlier

"I don't usually see guys your age lifting that heavy without a spotter."

Pink still dusted his sharp cheekbones, but he met her gaze now without the prior dose of awkwardness at the indirect praise. 

Rubbing the back of his neck almost shyly, his lips quirked upwards.

"I try to hit the gym pretty consistently. Can't let you idol types have all the good bodies, you know." Y/N murmurs with a smirk, a smile.. somewhere in between

Was he...flirting back now? Sooyoung thought as she cocked her head, curiosity piqued by this boost of confidence in him, 

She noted that he really was very good looking, with feline eyes and a sharp jawline that complemented the defined muscles under his sweaty workout t-shirt. No wedding ring either she observed.

"Oh really now?" she challenged, arms crossing under her boobs subtly. Enjoying the way his dark, definitely interested gaze automatically tracked and traced her tits, she took a half step closer.

"Maybe you could...give me some tips then?" Batting her lashes innocently, Sooyoung gestured one manicured hand at the bench press station nearby. "My upper body strength is definitely my weakness in dance practice lately." She says, 

Y/N looks momentarily caught off guard by the bold invitation, his adams apple visibly bobbing in a hard swallow. But then he regains his confidence, lips quirking in a smirk again.

"It would be my pleasure to help demonstrate, Sooyoung-ssi” he says with his eyebrows raised and the smirk plastered on

Sooyoung watched with interest as the handsome fan confidently adjusted the bench press bar to a heavy weight for her petite frame. Clearly trying to impress her. Smirking slightly as he patted the black vinyl meaningfully in invitation, she walked closer. Intentionally lingering longer than necessary in his personal space before fluidly getting into position on her back.

The barely there bra did nothing to save her from the cold of the bench against her mostly bare skin. Goosebumps rising, Sooyoung tilted her chin up towards her impromptu trainer hovering near her.

"Well show me what you've got Mr. Gym Rat," she prompted cheekily. 

His appreciative gaze flicked down to where her nipples had peeked almost visibly through the sweat-damp bra barely covering them. 

Clearing his throat, Y/N carefully guided her hands into position holding the loaded barbell now held above only inches from her breast . 

Sooyoung noticed how his fingers lingered, thumbs sweeping the inside of her wrists.

"Right uh, form is pretty important obviously..." Y/N started out slightly unevenly. As he began explaining proper technique, one large hand pressed unnecessarily against her toned stomach - supposedly to demonstrate using her core muscles.

"Make sense?" he asked, unconsciously stroking along her defined abs with his thumb distractedly. 

"Mmhmm..." Sooyong managed, hoping she didn't sound as breathless to his ears as her own thudding pulse. She chalked it up to a normal physiological reaction - an undeniably hot guy was freely running his big hands all over her pretty much naked skin. It had been awhile since she got this type of casual intimacy with her crazy schedule and long-term even busier relationship. 

Noticing her physical response, Y/N's lips curved slyly. He leaned down close, caging her under the heavy bench bar. "Why don't we start with a set, see how you handle it?" The intentionally lowered voice raised involuntary goosebumps on her skin,

Swallowing, Sooyoung tried focusing on proper breathing and form as she guided the weight smoothly down. But with him hovering so intimately close, she became hyper aware of every inch of bare skin exposed to the gym air and his wandering gaze. 

Each brush of his fingers igniting sparks over her nerves. 

Biceps burning from exertion, she carefully guided the barbell back into its holders. Breath coming shorter, she couldn't resist looking sideways up at him through her lashes. 

Heart kicking faster seeing pure lust in his hooded eyes. She should tell him to back off, that she wasn't some groupie to take advantage of. Should remind him she had a whole career, a boyfriend even - a goddamn celebrity boyfriend none the less. But the words died on her lips as his palm smoothed down her stomach again.

"I think you need another set baby..." 

The risky nickname from his mouth sent a new flood of wetness between her clenched thighs. Recklessly she arched up into his arm, just enough to make her stiff nipples touch across his wrist. His low hum is satisfying to her ears.

Maybe she could blame it on the adrenaline crash later she thought, Or the fact that she hasn’t gotten laid properly in weeks thanks to her and Jung Kyung-ho’s overlapping schedules . 

But right now, feeling so desired and drowning in endorphins was exactly what Sooyoung needed after endless brutal days of smiling through every nonsense using her idol-persona as a shield

So here and now, Sooyoung threw caution fully out the window. Grabbing a fistful of her Y/N’s sweaty shirt, she yanked him down insistently, crushing their mouths together. He responded immediately, large hand pulling too-roughly in her messy ponytail to angle her head for better access. 

She bit and pulled at his lower lip sharply. "What's your name anyway?" Sooyoung asked against his mouth, just realising she had no clue who this fan who felt so good pinning her down was,

"Y/N..." he managed, kissing wetly down her throat. Hearing the breathless need filling his voice sent another slob of wetness straight between her legs. 

"Hmm Y/N-yah..." Testing his name on her tongue earned a responding groan. His hands slid boldly up from her shaking stomach to cover her neglected tits, kneading roughly through the thin cloth of her sports bra. White burst behind Sooyoung's shut eyelids, back arching off the vinyl bench. 

"Oh fuck..." she moaned out. The vulgarness is a stark contrast from her idol act coming out unfiltered. 

Y/N’s dark chuckle against her hammering pulse made her inner muscles clench on nothing. 

"That's it baby, tell me what you want," he murmured , thick fingers tweaking her hard nipples for emphasis.  

"Ahh!" Sooyoung whimpered as the sensation went straight to her clit, hands flying down to roughly shove down the band of her leggings and underwear before she peeled her sweaty bra over her head. Tossing it carelessly to show her gorgeous bare tits with stiffen nipples. His pulse racing double time seeing literal fantasy material come to life right in front of him. "Holy fucking shit..."  Y/N mutters,  staring open-jawed,

"Like what you see?" Sooyoung purred, noting his stunned expression. Inching closer she took his shaky hands, guiding them onto her exposed tits. Hot soft skin filled his palms and Y/N groaned at finally living out countless fever dreams.

"Fuck yes... You're even sexier without clothes noona."

He tested their size and weight gently. Watching with wide crazed eyes as she bit her kiss-swollen lower lip on a moan when he thumbed over her nipples teasingly, properly now that her bra is off.

"Been wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits for years..." he rasped before ducking down to capture one of the brown peaks in his mouth.

"Oh god!" Sooyoung's shocked cry as he lavished attention on her breasts with lips, tongue and a hint of teeth. He smirked around a mouthful of her boobs.

"Sensitive here huh?" Tweaking her spit-slick nipple sharply in emphasis.

"Yes! Fuck..." Grinding against his thigh slotted between hers searchingly, Sooyoung fisted a hand almost too-tight in his hair. Urging him to give equal attention to her other needy tit.

The power rush left Y/N lightheaded. Never in a million years did he imagine his long-time celebrity crush would be practically humping his leg whining for more. He needed to be inside her like five minutes ago.

With urgency he flipped Sooyoung, bending her over the bench. Groaning reverently at the sight of her flawless bare ass and soaked panties.

"Fuck you have no idea how many times I've jerked off imagining this perfect ass up in the air for me." He emphasised the filthy words with a sharp open-palmed spank to one plump asscheek. Her answering moan urged him on. Gripping her slim hips bruisingly tight, he dragged his still covered dick along her slit.

"Please Y/N-aah... Want to feel you inside..." Hearing Korea's darling beg so prettily to be fucked sent Y/N into overdrive. With shaking hands he shoved down his boxers, dick springing free and almost smacking her ass. Groaning at the first glide of his angry red dick through slick soaked folds.

"Tell me how bad you need this cock baby..."  He asks as he teases them both - rubbing his swollen purple head along  her pussy but refusing to enter. 

Sooyoung whined, circling her hips urgently. "Please, feel so empty... Fuck me oppa!"

That was all the permission he needed. Tightening his hold on her hips,, Y/N thrust forward - plunging into her  incredibly tight velvet heat in one relentless slide. Balls slapping harshly against her clit. 

"Holy shit!" They both choked out. Frozen for a second, from just pure bliss

Then Y/N was fucking into her hard and fast - years of suppressed longing fueling his brutal pace. The lewd slick sound of their smacking flesh filled the empty gym. Her sharp cries urged him deeper.

Draped over her arched back, he slid a hand down her shaky stomach. Through the neat patch of pubes to circle her clit in firm strokes.

"Don't stop, please...I'm so fucking close!" Sooyoung whined, sharply circling her hips with his still imperceptibly swelling dick nestled deep inside her. Y/N starts fingering her clit in fast strokes, wanting to push her over the edge,

"Be a good girl and cum on oppa's cock," he rasped directly into her ear. Licking along the line of her throat when she tossed her head back, mewling.

"Oh god, fuck yes I'm cumming!" Sooyoung wailed, vision white as she orgasms hard - cunt spamming erratically around him. Milking every last drop of cum from his buried dick as she shook through endless waves of dizzying twitches.

Y/N fucked her slowly through the intense aftershocks until her limbs went limp, slumping forward. Soft puffs of breath hitting the bench under her flushed cheek. Holy hell she looked completely fucked out like this - hair, a wild mess, his release leaking steadily from her well used pussy.

Unable to resist, he carefully pulled out his sensitive dick free with a wet sound and her whimper, making him groan again as even more juices dripped freely down her soppy cunt in globs now coating her thighs. Gripping her ass cheeks, he spread them eagerly - her slick puffy folds still shaking, twitching.

Ducking down without hesitation, Y/N licked broadly up the entire crease. Tasting the salty-bitterness of her orgasm mixed with his semen.

"Ohhh fuck..." Sooyoung jerked, overstimulated nerves clearly on fire. But he just hummed directly against her, the vibrations making her squirm as he straightened his tongue. Spearing deep into her pussy to taste everything,

He gripped her hips again to hold her trembling body still, continuing to spear his tongue relentlessly into Sooyoung's oversensitive canal "Oh god, oh fuck!" Sooyoung whimpered and gasped as the intense sensations crashed over her overloaded nerves. The lewd, slick sounds of his sucking filling the empty gym.

Just when her thighs started really shaking from the stimulation, he finally let up. Pulling back to admire his handiwork once more with a satisfied groan.

But he isnt done with his bias yet,, he pressed two thick fingers back inside her velvet heat. Smirking when she jerked and whined at that light penetration.

"Mmm , you'll take a little more for your fan ,right?" He purred slyly even as she shuddered through another weak orgasm.

Not giving her a chance to recover, he quickly lined himself back up. Nudging just barely inside once more.

Sooyoung blinked sluggishly up at him, lips parted and slick with spit, eyes filled with tears even. "Ohhh f-fuck I can't..." Sooyoung whined, still shaking through the aftershocks. But despite her pleas she eagerly pushed her ass back for more of Y/N's thrusting fingers.

"Mmm yes you will," he growled. "Gonna make you cum all night..."

The lewd sound of his fingers pumping her soaked pussy echoed around the empty gym. Her broken whimpers urging him on.

"Oppa wants that sloppy cunt nice and wet before you take this dick again."

Adding a third finger, he twisted them until she bucked sharply - abusing her g-spot mercilessly. "Oh shit! Oh shit don't stop..." Sooyoung babbled, rocking her hips desperately to get those thick fingers deeper.

Y/N chuckled darkly at how needy she was for it already. His free hand cracked down hard on one jiggling ass cheek, making her yelp.

"Fuck yourself on oppa's fingers just like that. Let me see you cum again."

Arching sharply, Sooyoung braced her hands properly - shamelessly riding his thrusting fingers now. The lewd sound of her soaked pussy sucking them in greedily echoed with her pitched cries.

Right on the edge, Y/N suddenly ripped his hands away - ignoring her scream. Gripping her hips tight enough to bruise, he rammed balls-deep into her still-spasming cunt. Bottoming out so deep she saw stars.

"OH FUCK yesyesyes!" Sooyoung babbled mindlessly.

Y/N set a brutal pace instantly - their slick bodies slapping together loudly. Obscene squelching noises coming from where their juices dripped down her trembling inner thighs.

"Yeah? Oppa's cock feels good pounding this tight pussy?" He rasped filthily against her ear. Her constant and almost musical 'ah-ah-ah's with every deep thrust said it all.

Flipping her easily onto her back not the nth time, Y/N hooked one slim leg over his shoulder - driving himself impossibly deeper. Loud smack of balls against her ass echoing.

Sooyoung's next orgasm crashed through her violently - back bowing off the bench as she wailed his name. Cunt spasming erratically, trying to milk his cock.

Not nearly done with her, Y/N manhandled her limp body into his lap , as he sat down on the gym’s vinyl flooring next - spearing up into her dripping hole once more. Sharp cries ringing out as he bounced her roughly on his dick by the hips.

"Yes yes fuck! Shit I can't..." Sooyoung babbled, still cum drunk and now full on crying. But her petite yet tall  body continued riding him eagerly. Tits jiggling wildly with the force of it.

Reaching around, Y/N's thick fingers found her throbbing clit again. Rubbing messy circles as she squeezed almost painfully a fourth time. Her rhythmic contractions pushed him closer to the edge too.

But he still wasn't done using her gorgeous body yet.

Pulling out abruptly mid-orgasm, he smirked at her wrecked wail. Manhandling her to knees, he fisted himself rapidly - aimed right at her sweat-slick back curved so beautifully before him.

"Look so fucking good on your knees noona... Now tell oppa what you need," he gritted out, squeezing the life out of his own dick,

Whining and grinding her ass back desperately, Sooyoung glanced over one shoulder. Eyes glazed and burned into his.

"P-please...want you to cum all over me oppa," she begged prettily, pink tongue swiping across her swollen bottom lip. "Mark me as yours..."

"Fuck!" Y/N roared, fist flying rapidly over his slick dick. Her nasty plea instantly triggered his release. He painted her back and ass cheeks in endless ropes of white hot semen - marking SNSD's lead dancer Sooyoung as claimed, way more claimed then her man could ever mark her.

Chests heaving, he eventually tugged her fucked-out body upright against him. She mewled weakly feeling their mixed cum and her juices now dripping freely out of her loose fucked out vagina and down her thighs and his.

"Let's get you cleaned up hm?"

Scooping her up easily, Y/N carried his pliant bias towards the locker room showers....... [A/N: lol pt2 coming out soon , i might finally surpass 5 if not 7k words, it'll be a personal milestone, took down the previous one cause i noticed typos and added bs, i didnt spellcheck it or even read through it prior to posting like an idiot, anyway req: @snsdyb]

[be4chywritez]

Please, can you do a part 2 of the winner takes it all of nico hischier something about her going to the stadium series or him talking about her to the press like really proving the couple goals to everyone.

Pd i love your writing🥰

thank you lovey🤍

supportive boyfriend | nico hischier

nico hischier x driver!reader

beachy’s masterlist

part l

beachy’s notes: THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD so if you see two of the same paragraphs no you didn’t ( i popped in an edible)

Nico adjusts his hair from his face, still damp from the quick post-game shower he took. Reporters surround him, and he really doesn’t want to be cooped up in a stall answering these questions.

Less than 24 hours ago, he watched you win the world championship, and now he’s here, but his mind keeps wandering back to you. He loves how you would go to the ends of the earth just to support him. You’re so selfless; most world champions would party all night, but not you. You got on a flight to come support him, even though it was a tough loss. He knew you would tell him how good he played.

A PR officer gives him a nod, queuing him to start answering questions. He responds to what feels like the same question in different formats, giving fake chuckles to the jokes that some of the reporters make. But then someone asks about you, and anyone with a brain could tell how much he loves you.

“Nico, we didn’t see you arrive with the team. Why is that?”

He straightens up, an involuntary smile making its way to his face. “Um, my partner is a Formula One racer, and I went to see her win the championship.” He doesn’t want to sound braggy, but who wouldn’t? His girlfriend is a world champion.

Another reporter asks, “How does that dynamic work? You both travel quite a bit.”

Nico’s smile widens, and his eyes light up. “It’s definitely challenging, but we make it work because we understand and support each other’s dreams. We both know what it’s like to be passionate about our careers, and we make sure to be there for each other, no matter what. Like yesterday, I was in the stands cheering her on, and today, she’s here supporting me. It’s all about finding balance and making time for what really matters.”

The reporters seem genuinely interested, leaning in as Nico continues. “We’re each other’s biggest fans. After a tough game or a challenging race, we always find a way to lift each other up. It’s not always easy, but having someone who truly understands and supports you makes all the difference.”

A reporter at the back chimes in, “Do you think having such a high-profile relationship adds pressure?”

Nico shakes his head slightly. “Not really. If anything, it gives us more strength. We’re both very focused and driven, and having someone who knows what that’s like is incredible. We don’t see it as pressure; we see it as motivation. And at the end of the day, we’re just two people who love each other and want to see each other succeed.”

The PR officer wraps up the session, and as Nico makes his way out.

As he walked out, he spotted you immediately, standing outside the locker room with a warm, encouraging smile on your face.

You were bundled up in your Mercedes-AMG Petronas jacket, a stark contrast to the casual clothes he had changed into. Your eyes lit up when you saw him, and you quickly closed the distance between you.

“Nico!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him. He hugged you tightly, finding warmth in your embrace despite the disappointment of the game.

“You made it,” he said, holding you close. “Thank you for coming all this way.”

You shrugged, your smile never fading. “Of course, I did. I wanted to be here to support you, win or lose.”

He nodded, grateful for your unwavering support. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested gently. “I could use some time with you.”

You nodded in agreement, intertwining your fingers with his as you walked together through the hallway and out to the parking lot. The drive back to your shared apartment was filled with a comfortable silence, hanging between you.

When you arrived home, Nico unlocked the door and held it open for you with a small smile. The apartment was quiet and welcoming, a stark difference from the noise and pressure of the game. You kicked off your shoes by the door, feeling the tension begin to melt away.

Nico moved to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients for a simple dinner. “How about we make some pasta?” he suggested, turning to you with a hopeful look.

You chuckled softly. “Sounds perfect.”

-

After dinner, you cleaned up together, it was in these quiet moments that your bond felt strongest, the shared routines and unspoken gestures speaking volumes.

Nico washed the dishes while you dried, stealing glances and exchanging small smiles. When the last plate was put away, you turned to him with a soft smile.

“Thank you for dinner,” you said sincerely, reaching out to touch his arm.

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours. “Thank you for being here. It means more than you know.”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “We’ll get through this,” you murmured, your voice filled with assurance.

Nico wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. “Together,” he agreed softly. “Always.”

-

The rest of the evening passed in comfortable companionship, watching a movie together on the couch and enjoying each other’s company. As the night grew late, you found yourselves curled up under a blanket, the quiet of the apartment soothing and familiar.

“You know,” Nico said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Even on the toughest days, having you here makes everything better.”

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I feel the same way. We’re in this together, no matter what.”

He nodded, his gaze softening. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too,” you replied, your heart swelling with warmth.

Nico leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His lips trailed down to yours, capturing them in a deep, passionate kiss.

The kiss deepened, Nico's hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, his touch igniting a fuzzy feeling in your lower stomach.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, Nico's eyes held a hunger that mirrored your own. He gazed at you with adoration, his hand caressing your cheek.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

You chuckled softly, your heart pounding. "You're not so bad yourself."

Nico kissed you again, softer this time, a silent promise of love and devotion. You melted into his arms, the world outside fading away as you lost yourselves in each other.

[logan-lieutenant]

goodbye to a world

reading between the lines of the various goodbyes and dismissals to logan sargeant

Pt. 2: Alex on socials

full series

oh, alex albon. you beautiful soul.

it goes without saying that the social media presence of drivers is so important that it’s monitored and orchestrated by an entire group of people– but a team like williams? they’ve got that shit under lock and key. i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again: the shitstorm williams has been in puts an unbelievable amount of pressure on their drivers not just to perform well but to pick up the pieces. they’re at the forefront of the “let’s look forward! let’s keep pushing” optimism campaign that all backmarker teams have to put together for the sake of professionalism. logan basically doesn’t have a social media presence, and you see more of him on the official f1 grid photography dumps than williams’ own account. alex’s posts are more frequent, but the content itself might as well be autogenerated. in conferences, they’re both reserved, careful what they say, always swinging back inelegantly towards the same one-liner: “we’ll look at the data, reset, hope to come back stronger in [next race]”. and unlike teams like mclaren, mercedes, ferrari– the two teammates definitely don’t make posts to or about each other.

alex posts this three hours after the official august 27 announcement:

alex…

this is going to have to be a list again, isn’t it? one post, a few photos, and he’s already said and conveyed so much more than the williams “statements” ever even tried.

first of all, 12:20 exactly? that’s been queued. obviously. we also know that alex found out about logan being axed mere hours before the decision, and i for one think that was absolutely deliberate. they wanted to get logan out– like, physically out of their vicinity– as quickly and as discretely as possible. so are they going to give alex, who’s famously kind and compassionate and talks too much and pays more on-camera attention to logan than practically anyone else in that team… they’re going to give him a heads up? unlikely.

so is there a chance that this post was composed for him before they even told him? that’s actually almost a certainty, but the most important detail to mention is that caption. let’s go sentence-by-sentence.

“i know firsthand how brutal this sport can be…”

wow. okay. i said sentence-by-sentence but i can’t even get past this because… BRUTAL. what a word. this is clearly a reference to alex’s own replacement by red bull. 2019. not that long ago, but considering alex’s f1 presence has already been solidified as “adhd cat dad who can also outperform the SHIT out of a backmarker car” it’s not something that’s called back too often, that he had a shot in a front running team. it wasn’t really a fall from grace, was it? because even in a williams alex has continued to prove himself and put that car way further ahead than it deserves to be. so it was painful but not in a way that, like, max’s silverstone crash is still painful to some people. it’s pretty distant in the f1 public consciousness from what i can tell.

but alex is making a point to throw back to it. not in detail, not heavily, because he’s not making it about himself. the only allusion to the actual event is the word “firsthand”. high is the right way to go about it because saying anything about “back when i” would be going too far, reshifting the spotlight in the wrong direction. but he’s asking us all:

remember when i was a kid and i was trying to build myself up and they tossed me aside like i was nothing? remember when i got discarded by a team that’s burned through so many second drivers already, and left thinking my only f1 legacy would be “that disappointment”? remember how much that hurt?

brutal. what a word. because that’s what red bull is, that’s what they do. famously. but it’s definitely not the word you’d apply to a team that’s supposed to be The Underdogs and A Family and A Lovely Sense of Familiarity and Support what fucking ever.

so alex gets away with this by the way he’s planned out the last half of that phrase: “how brutal this sport can be…” because he says ‘this sport’, not ‘this team’ or ‘james vowles’. so he’s flipping a two-sided coin here:

side one, on the surface. what williams want to see from him and want to believe. the sport is brutal. it is what it is. life’s not fair. that’s just how it goes. no blame but the harsh reality of the sport itself.

side two, between the lines. not too far deep between the lines, too, all you have to do to see this side is not have a compulsive, ashamed, desperate desire to see anything else. this is brutal. what’s happening to logan is brutal. what’s happening is painful and humiliating and you’re leaving him in the dust like he was always disposable, like you never wanted him, like you can’t wait to forget about him and i know because that’s what happened to me.

he’s saying this right to their faces. he’s saying it to everyone.

“…it’s tough to see Logan leave the team mid-season.”

i have a feeling this is the part that was prewritten just because of the word tough. “this is, of course, incredibly tough on” et cetera, we know where that understatement came from. the emphasis is on the fact that the disruption, the replacement is happening literally during the season, which is Such A Mess For Everyone, not the fact that the disruption is logan losing his entire career in disgrace (because he’s already said that part). so this single sentence toes the line so gracefully it’s almost an art.

“You gave it your all brother and it’s been a pleasure being teammates with you.”

this is really interesting specifically for the fact that 1) shortly after james manages to say the same thing as a put-down and 2) he goes on to contradict himself. i’m going to pick up later on the “you gave it your all” part because we will definitely revisit that, but the second half is nice too. it’s not focusing on logan’s performance as a williams driver, or as an f1 driver. it’s about logan– and, to an extent, himself– in a light people don’t tend to see either of them in: as a teammate. when you’ve got a team like mclaren or ferrari where the teammates are so closely matched that their race craft, cooperation and competition is a direct talking point in their racing, we talk about that a lot more often. but alex and logan can spend a race more than half a grid apart from each other, and as a williams driver that’s been true for alex this whole time. so we don’t think of which of them is or isn’t a better teammate because they’re barely driving the same race, and they’re not being treated like they’re in the same team. but even bringing that up in a post is good to see, just another way to give logan an additional title. the williams’ failure, the underperformer, the disappointment, the backmarker, and– oh yeah, alex albon’s teammate. love to see it.

“I know whatever you do next, you’ll be awesome.”

WOAH. okay, talk about shifting the spotlight. what’s been the williams 2024 story so far? i mean, if you were going to use a sentence to describe “how we got here” and “where we’re going”? we would probably see something like: logan’s failure in 24 brought in carlos sainz for 25. the narrative from james vowles in particular is: whatever we do next with carlos sainz, we’ll be awesome. the williams narrative since jv took over has basically been “uhhh yeah we’re nowhere now but WE’RE GONNA BE!! UH! SOMEWHERE! EVENTUALLY!” all about the future.

logan, in contrast… his whole narrative since joining f1 and immediately tumbling has been “he had a chance for a future but it’s gone now.”

not. to. alex. albon. in the wake of this announcement everybody is fucking reeling, and in the context of williams people are buzzing all around colapinto and how he’s been rocketed into the limelight for the better or worse, and all the distraught logan fans are either throwing up or screaming to the heavens, “WHAT NOW??” logan is being pushed aside the same way you’d push some clutter off a desk. he’s evaporating into thin air, or at least that’s what williams are trying to make him do.

three hours in, and alex albon is there to remind us: logan’s story is not over. he’s acknowledging that logan’s future is wide open, empty, undecided and unprepared (“whatever you do next”) but he’s ACKNOWLEDGING THE FUTURE. and the change in tone from third-person “seeing Logan” to second-person “you’ll be awesome”… once again, it’s not about him. it’s not about alex being a nice guy and a nice teammate and showing the world how nice he is by taking pity on this other person who’s leaving. he’s personally telling logan and by extension us: you’ll be awesome. doesn’t matter where you go, what you do, you have the potential to be awesome and so you will be. it’s not even “have fun” “enjoy where you’re going” “i hope you do well” it’s <<you will>>.

��Just you fucking wait,” Alex is saying. “You wait and watch. He’ll show you.”

it’s not just a lovely goodbye, it’s a ferocious goodbye. it’s a statement. it’s a confident send off, maybe the only genuine vote of confidence he’s ever gotten from williams.

and we love to see it.

[copperbadge]

Oh god I got a discussion of therapy all over that poor person’s post about ADHD.....did not mean to spill quite that many personal beans but I queued it when I was tired and it posted before I noticed it was inappropriate. 

I wanted to reply to the comments individually but I felt like I’d be disjointed about it and maybe some people don’t want their comment on one post blasted to 30K people on another post, so in a general sense... 

I know there are different modalities to therapy -- I have no idea what mine were but I doubt it matters since it was twenty-five years ago and I was a child. Part of the problem is that the modalities which are clear-cut in theory seem unhelpfully loose in practice. I’ll look through a directory of therapists and a half-dozen will give different modalities from each other but talk about the same handful of therapeutic techniques, or address the same family of issues, or both. And most of the modalities both in the clinical and practical sense seem extremely unpleasant, so that is perhaps a Me Problem. 

I end up asking myself, “What’s my goal in doing this?” and I picture myself sitting down with a therapist who asks what I’m looking to address, because that would help narrow down my options. But I never have a good answer. So I think, “That seems like an hour a week that could be spent doing something less expensive” and close out of the search window. Then a few weeks later I think “Well, that might be useful, I’ll look around” and the cycle starts again. 

There are so many good uses for therapy, but a lot of what people say they use therapy for, I've done on my own for years, or am working on now and don’t feel like I need help. I don’t really have any problems identifying therapists who aren’t going to work for me for one reason or another, but it’s an issue if I can only tell a therapist what I don’t want to do. Saying “I’m not interested in doing roleplays” is fine as boundary-setting but if I can’t say “Because I want to accomplish this different thing” then all I’m doing is insulting someone’s profession, really. 

So what’s left? Just the vague sense that other people I like and admire find it useful, and my experiences were very much outlier, so maybe I should try it again. But if I can’t identify why I should try it again, and if I’m going to be aggressively combative about it (which...I don’t want to be but I do know me) then all I’m really doing is paying someone to be insulted by me for an hour, and I can do that to people who deserve it more, for free, on the internet. 

niennanir

The thing with therapy, speaking as someone who was a counselor for a period of years, is that it is a tool that supposes a baseline function. Going to Therapy when you have ADHD is very similar to being handed a hammer and told to use it when you have no arms.  

I did want to respond to this comment specifically because a) that’s very validating and b) it means that if I do want to continue looking I guess a good place to start would be asking my meds psych, because he at least deals with adults with ADHD on the reg and can be like “Well, first we gotta get you some robot arms.” 

I just like the idea of having robot arms, really. The hammer’s a bonus! 

...my meds psych is a very nice man but he’s also super earnest and will probably not understand why I find the robot arms thing so funny. 

[snickerdoodlles]

I disagree with your chan headcannon

But I like your other headcannons so can I for macau headcannons if you don't mind

😂 well the good news is that i’m in the fandom minority with my “Chan is loyal to Korn only” camp and rarely ever post about him, so keep asking me about brothers and we'll be delighted together

and yes!!! MACAU MY DARLING BOY!!! i love him SO much, but i will limit myself to only three (3) headcanons for him on this post in a futile attempt to keep it from getting too long

Macau & Kim

his favorite way to piss Kim off is by making club mixes of chinese drama OSTs. he does this with Kim's actual songs too after those start rolling out, but this feud began long before they started posting to social media. Macau also starts off with a larger following for his mixes than Kim does for his covers, and while that eventually plateaus and Kim passes him in their follower counts by the time canon rolls around, Kim is still so fucking bitter. the day Kim starts to let it go is the day Macau posts a video of himself playing hot cross buns on the drama dizi* he stole from Kim years ago.

Macau & Chay

Chay and Macau do Not like each other. i know people like to make them friends, i just don't see it happening without a lot of work first and it's so much funnier to me if they're frenemies. i do love them as online gaming besties tho (before they find out who the other is), because then they both have to live with the mortifying knowledge that Chay once called Macau 'daddy' after he gave him a bunch of turnips in animal crossing, because they are teenagers and teenagers make stupid daddy jokes. any inclinations of trying to be friends because Porsche and Vegas are friends dry up faster than water on a hot pan after that.

Macau & Pete & Vegas

you know what's a great way to bond with brothers and in-laws? movies. you know what's the worst leisure activity to do with Pete and Vegas? WATCH MOVIES. every action scene is scrutinized and criticized and Pete keeps rewinding the same three seconds to mock the character's kick stance. any murder scenes are WORSE. Vegas hates romances and hates ballads. the only things not totally infuriating to watch with him are cooking shows and home improvement shows and the occasional gardening show and yawn. Pete's tastes are much broader thanks to Khun, but he also comes with so many opinions on how to properly watch shows and Macau doesn't actually want to dress up every time they watch a horror film.

so movie nights are almost a bust. they do find some movies they're all into, but it's usually an exercise in frustration. but then, one day while they're queuing up a film they're only 37% sure on, Pete's grandma calls with the hot town gossip--"do you remember Kobb Pete? yes, the nice old man who runs the fruit stand, remember how he gave you a mango on your first day of school and you dripped all down your new uniform? well, you'll never believe what's happened, you know how Kobb passed his stand down to his son Mew and Mew was training up his son Mod to take over one day, except they got into a fight on how to best display the pineapples and papayas and they had a fight, yes, right there in the middle of the road, and Mew fired his son, but Kobb backed Mod, so they opened a rival fruit stand with Mew's wife, but Kobb's wife sided with Mew and got the neighbors involved, and--"

it takes grandma forty minutes to regale the tale of the on-going fruit vendor feud. then she continues to update Pete on the rest of the hometown for another three hours. Macau and Vegas are enthralled. how often does your grandma tell you things Pete, can we be there for the next one, what's the full story behind the thing with Folk's fishing boat, why did you ask grandma if Sine's husband was in the garden--

listen, small town drama is the best drama. and Vegas is having a journey to discover which mafia things are things he likes vs which ones he forced himself to like to survive, and being a nosy cunt sniffing out all the juicy scandals is absolutely something he takes to with glee (he will become grandma's favorite when they visit, they are terrifying together). Macau just loves hearing all the petty drama and neighbors feuds that result in increasingly passive aggressive displays of garden gnomes instead of gunfire. movie night becomes grandma call nights and it's the best family bonding.

*inspired by Jeff buying one of the Wei Wuxian's flutes and the fact that he reportedly learned how to play it because he's a big ol' cql nerd ❤❤❤ this is also a reference to @majestictortoise's fic Middlegame, which everyone should read if they haven't yet and reread if they have

Send an ask, get a headcanon (prev: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9)

[theweasleysredhair]

Baby Love [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 1693

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Looking after Teddy Lupin makes Fred decide he wants a baby of his own with you.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @firewhisky-kisses @obsessedwithrandomthings @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whizbangs-78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @oh-for-merlins-sake | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: just a reminder that this is a queued post! i’m currently taking a small break from tumblr (should be back by the end of the week though!) as i am not in a good place at the moment. feel free to continue sending in asks and messages whilst i’m away - i’ll answer as soon as i’m back online! i shall also catch up on things that i’ve been tagged in and fics i’ve missed then as well! ❤️❤️ to the requester - i hope you enjoy my love! 💕

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“Never seen him so content,” you hummed to Hermione, a smile playing at your lips as you nodded over to Fred, who was sitting on a nearby couch in the living room of the Burrow, where everyone had gathered for Christmas - the second one since the Battle of Hogwarts - holding a tiny toddler, who was giggling at Fred’s attempts to make him laugh, hair turning a bright blue as he threw his arms into the air.

Hermione laughed, “He’s always loved Teddy.” “He reminds him of Lupin I reckon,” you replied, not having to mention the reason why, considering the small boy looked just like him. Fred, you knew, felt indebted to Lupin, since he was the one to bring George back to the Burrow when he lost his ear - kept him safe after the incident, travelling back quickly to save him. You knew that was one of the reasons Fred offered to look after Teddy so often - that and the fact that the baby adored him.

“Are you not thinking about children yet?” Hermione asked you, breaking you from your thoughts, “I’d have thought with the way he can never keep his hands off you that you’d be pregnant by now.”

You let out a laugh, knowing she wasn’t exactly wrong - Fred always had at least an arm around you or a hand on your waist, always pulling you into his lap and kissing you when he got the chance. And he’d only gotten worse since you were married a few months ago, thoroughly enjoying the new house you’d moved into after the wedding and all the privacy it gave you both - George had learnt to knock on the door when he arrived rather than apparating in immediately, after finding you both in a rather compromising position on the kitchen counter one time.

“Well, I mean obviously we’d love to have a baby... it’s just, well we both got hurt pretty badly in the battle and each had to deal with nearly dying,” you spoke, earning a sympathetic look as thoughts of the battle crossed both your minds.

Fred had nearly been hit by a wall falling in an explosion - he had been knocked unconscious and the moment you saw him laying on the floor of the Great Hall, you’d assumed the worst, until Molly had assured you with a watery nod that he was okay. Then when the battle recommenced, you’d had your leg crushed by falling debris, not being able to dodge spells fast enough, meaning you were nearly hit with the killing curse, had George not have pulled you out of the way in time.

The battle overall took its toll on you both, causing flashbacks and nightmares for the first year or so, only just beginning to ease when you and Fred decided to get married a couple of months back, wanting to make things official after years of dating.

“We just haven’t had the time to plan for a baby. Plus, we’re still really young,” you continued, shrugging your shoulders a little before turning your gaze to Fred, who was preoccupied by baby Teddy, pulling faces at him and playing peek-a-boo, not being able to help the smile that graced your lips, “But maybe having a baby would be a good thing.”

“He’d be a great dad,” Hermione grinned, seeing the way your eyes lit up as you watched your husband cradling the toddler in his arms, even as Teddy decided to grab a hold of Fred’s ginger locks, pulling at them happily.

“The best,” you nodded with a content smile. You excused yourself from Hermione as you saw Teddy reaching out in your direction, stuttering out what you assumed was his attempt at saying your name, clambering over Fred’s lap to get to you.

“I’m here baba, I’m right here,” you cooed, scooping the now-sandy haired toddler up into your arms and giving him a hug, his little chubby arms wrapping around you as best they could. You marvelled at how much he resembled Remus, the same tiny smile on his face.

“Be careful, he likes hair now apparently,” Fred grumbled, rubbing a patch on his head that you assumed Teddy had yanked. You laughed as you sat beside him, nudging his side a little with a wink, “I thought you liked having your hair pulled.”

“I do, but only when it’s you that does it, not when a baby does it with the intention of making me bald,” Fred replied, but despite himself he was smiling at Teddy, who had curled up in your lap and was babbling nonsense to you both.

You glanced up, noticing a presence watching you, finding Molly stood in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a spatula and practically cooing at the sight of her son and his wife looking after a baby.

“Oh you remind me of me and Arthur when we had our Bill,” she gushed, waving the spatula in your direction. You smiled at her warmly and shifted the toddler a little, Fred holding his tiny hand in his much larger one.

“I’m assuming Bill was a lot calmer than the rest of them, eh Molly,” you laughed, watching as she nodded immediately, nearly sighing as she thought back to her other children.

“Indeed. Charlie was a nightmare, always finding creatures from the garden and claiming them as his pets - once found a Doxy in his room that he’d been keeping from me, if you can believe it! An absolute pest, had to get rid of it as soon as I could. Percy was a good child, very smart. Almost as good as Bill. And then came you two,” she pointed the spatula at Fred who mocked innocence and pointed to himself in shock, “Who were nightmares. Then there was Ron and Ginny, but they were almost easy compared to the twins.”

Fred grinned smugly, “We enjoy keeping you on your toes, mother dearest, what can we say.”

Molly hummed disapprovingly at him, “I can’t wait until you both have a baby - for your sake, Y/n, dear, I hope they’re like Bill. For your sake, Fred, I hope they’re like you were, an absolute terror.”

Fred’s jaw dropped comically, absent-mindedly taking Teddy from you as he crawled on his lap, jogging him up and down on his knee, “Terror? Me? As if. I’m the light of your life. Besides, it’s awfully forward of you to think we’re having a child, Mum.”

“Oh look at you both with him,” Molly gestured pointedly at the toddler, who was happily playing with Fred’s jumper, “You’re parents already, you just need a baby of your own.”

With that, she turned to head back into the kitchen, as Fred turned to you, wiggling his eyebrows, “What d’ya reckon, eh love? Want a baby with me?”

“Already picked the names,” you joked, taking Teddy back from him and lifting him up in the air, making him squeal in delight, waving his little fists around.

Fred grinned, then found himself watching the way you were holding Teddy, the way you were cradling him so gently, making him smile and laugh. He bit his lip, imagining what it would be like with his own baby - one with his ginger hair, his nose, and your eyes and lips. One that was half him and half you.

All through the rest of the gathering, all through playing games with his family, talking about how Bill and Fleur were expecting their baby in April, and how Hermione was doing working in the Ministry, all he was thinking about was starting a family with you, watching as you cared for Teddy, to give Harry and Ginny and few hours alone before they took him back for the evening.

And as he sat, arm slung around your shoulder, Teddy now asleep across both of your laps, he decided he wanted his own baby with you.

Later that night, after you’d returned Teddy to his godfather, you and Fred retreated back to the room you were staying in in the Burrow. You lay on the bed, watching your husband move around the room, seemingly deep in his own mind as you watched him bump into the corner of the cabinet twice, and nearly trip over the rug, before you spoke, “What’s on your mind, Freddie?”

He paused in place, having removed his trousers and instead stood in a shirt and his boxers, “Just thinking about Teddy... and you... and how good you are with him.”

“You’re pretty good with him too, you know, he loves you. Kept asking for his ‘Unca Fwed’ when I gave him back to Harry,” you laughed a little, shaking your head.

Fred grinned, “He’s pretty cute, huh? Been wondering what it’d be like to have him around all the time. Except not him, but a different baby. Our baby, to be precise.”

“You want a baby?”

Fred nodded, almost shyly as he pulled his shirt off and threw it over to you, you swapping the shirt you were wearing for his, happily breathing in the smell of him clinging to the fabric.

You smiled at him, holding your arms out to him as he crawled up the bed until his body hovered above yours, leaning on his forearms on either side of your head.

Wrapping arms around neck, you leaned up to brush your lips against his, “I’d love to have a baby with you, Freddie.”

He nudged his nose against yours, humming contently, “Yeah?” “Yeah,” you confirmed with a soft smile, kissing him gently, “Imagine, we could have one by next Christmas, or one on the way.”

“Maybe babies. Multiples run in the family, you know,” he murmured, moving to place kisses along your jawline and you felt him grin against your skin.

“I’m not having twins,” you deadpanned, shaking your head at him fondly as you scoffed out a laugh. Fred pulled back a little, still grinning back at you cheekily as he gently rocked his hips against yours, making your head fall back against the pillow,

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that, love.”

[doctorstethoscope]

Moment || Aaron Hotchner x gn Reader

A/N: hiiii besties expanding on a lil prompt from the weekend due to popular demand! Thank you to @the-modernmary for  helping me with it!! If u liked this teeny bit of angst u will love her fics!!

just a little note for those of you who read The Right: I am going on vacation this coming Saturday-Wednesday. I will have the chapters queued to post for y’all, but I will not be able to respond to taglist requests or update the masterlist until I come back! Still let me know what you think about the chapters though, they’re some good ones! ok onto this fic.

contains: slight cursing, alcohol consumption

wc: 1.7k

You take a deep breath as you walk out of Strauss’s office, taking exactly one beat to regain your composure before hastily making your way over to Hotch’s office, letting yourself in without knocking. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” you said by way of greeting as you crossed his office and settled into one of the chairs across from his desk.

“Tell you what?” Hotch asks, looking up from his paperwork with confusion knit across his brow. 

“That Strauss was going to harangue me the second I walked into the building this morning. I seriously didn’t even make it past security before she nabbed me.” You told him, disgruntled. 

“I didn’t know. What did she want?” Aaron asks, and you look up and see that he’s telling the truth-- he really didn’t know. 

“Oh… I assumed she would have cleared it with you before she asked me.” You said, your boisterous energy deflating the longer you sat in the chair. 

“Is she pulling you for undercover work? She always does that, and she never asks if we have anything coming up or what your consult workload is--” 

“No, Hotch. She’s, uh, she’s not pulling me for undercover work.”

“What is it?” 

“She said the director tapped me to lead the field office in Vegas.” You confessed, looking up and seeing the air leave Aaron’s chest. 

“Wow.” Aaron says, blinking. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. 

“And you’re going to take it?” He asked. 

“I told her that I needed some time to think about it.” You answer him.

“What’s there to think about?” He wonders. 

There’s a moment where you think you might actually roll your eyes at him. There’s a moment where you consider begging him to give you a reason to stay. There’s a moment where you consider crossing the desk and depositing yourself in his lap, kissing him with the weight of all of the feelings that had you wanting to stay. 

But, after a moment, you realize that none of that’s happening. He’s sitting across from you, looking at you like you’d be the biggest fool in the world not to take advantage of this opportunity, and maybe he was right. Maybe you would spend the rest of your life wanting him one-sidedly, wondering what good you could have done for the world if you had simply accepted that he’d never love you back. 

“Nothing,” you answered, after a moment. “There’s absolutely nothing to think about at all.”

****************************

Aaron’s barely even distracted when you swing his door open and plop yourself into one of his chairs first thing in the morning. He’s used to it, by now. He may have been a less-than-willing participant in your friendship at the beginning of your relationship, but now he was glad to call you someone he was close to. His closest friend, really. 

His ears perk up when you mention Strauss. “Is she pulling you for undercover work?’ He starts to rant, already planning the tirade he’s going to deliver to Erin when he notices your demeanor change. You’re… shy, all of a sudden. You’ve never hidden from him before. He doesn’t like it. 

“She said the director tapped me for the field director position in Vegas,” You revealed. The sentence hit him like a punch in the gut.

“Wow,” is all he can manage to get out, fighting the way his throat threatens to close up. “And you’re going to take it?” He asks, although he knows the answer will break his heart. 

“I told her I needed some time to think about it.”

“What’s there to think about?’ He asked, allowing himself to hope for a moment that you’ll make some grand confession, to imagine for a moment that you might possibly feel the same way he does, to believe for a moment that he’s worthy of your love. But he’s not.

“Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing to think about at all,” you tell him, standing up and leaving with a forced casualness. 

Aaron had been married long enough to know that that tone and those words together mean the exact opposite of what they are supposed to mean-- but he was still confused. What could possibly make you stay? And how could he find it before you left? 

*****************

The following days between you and Aaron had been chilly, to say the least. You didn’t bounce ideas off of each other on cases like you normally would. You came to the opposite conclusions at every turn. You were out of sync, and everyone felt it. So when the case wrapped up on a Friday afternoon, you were more than happy to rush home to a bottle of wine, a pint of ice cream, your moving boxes and some trashy reality television.

You’d given up on packing after about an hour. Your heart just wasn’t in it. So instead, you lounged in your pajamas, sipping at your wine in the hopes that it would guide you to your first full night of sleep since you’d spoken with Strauss. You’re just about to head to bed when there’s a knock at your door. You swing it open, revealing Aaron, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. 

“I was an asshole.” He offers. “Am I interrupting anything, or?”

“Just packing,” you say, wanting to twist the knife a little bit even if it wasn’t truthful. Aaron is undeterred, and steps inside anyways. 

“I didn’t want you to leave with us still in the middle of the fight. You can be as mad as you want in the morning, but have a glass of champagne with me?” He asks, with those big brown eyes you could never refuse. 

“Fine,” you sighed, still easily won over by him, even when you were heartbroken and mad. 

“Here, you open it. Congratulations,” he tells you, handing over the bottle. You start picking at the foil, and he speaks up in the silence. “Things are going to be different without you, you know. I like that our team is structured the way it is… as a team, but you know, in a lot of ways, it was nice to have a partner in you.”

“You know, come to think of it, I’m not sure if I even have cups. They might be packed away,” you say, still picking at the foil and decidedly not looking Aaron in the eye. He chuckles a little at your comment.

 “I don’t know what I’m going to do when you’re gone. I mean, who else can rein in Derek, or get to see me the big picture, or talk Emily off the ledge when I’m sure she’s about to go rogue?’ 

“It’s going to be okay,” you tell him, setting the bottle on the counter, still unopened. Aaron heaves a sigh. 

“You should stay.” He says, after a moment. 

“What?” You say, blinking, because surely you must be drunk or dreaming or something else. 

“You should stay here. You don’t have to take the job in Vegas.” 

“Haha, very funny,” you joked, bringing your attention back to the bottle to avoid looking him in the eye. 

“I’m serious. Listen, I know I said there was nothing to think about, but I changed my mind.” 

“Oh, did you? And what if I haven’t changed mine?” You asked, getting angry now. 

Not able to hold back for another second, he takes your face in both of his hands and kisses you. “Just, think about that before you board a plane. Okay?” He says, and before you can even speak, you hear the door swing shut behind him. 

Damn you, Hotchner. 

You don’t sleep a wink.  When 8am finally rolls around, you pull yourself out of bed and get dressed, heading over to Aaron’s. As you buckle your seatbelt, you realize that you know you have to go over there but you have no clue what it is you even want to say to him. You hope you’ll figure it out without sounding completely insane as you knock on Aaron’s door, and he swings it open, still in his sweatpants and incredibly surprised to find you on his doorstep.

“I’m even more mad at you right now than I was last night,” you tell him by way of greeting.

“That’s understandable. I haven’t been very fair to you,” he agrees, and the fact that he’s being so reasonable only makes you angrier. You slip past him and step inside the apartment. 

“I don’t get it. You couldn’t just let me move on, start a new life and forget about the torch I’ve been burning for my boss the entire time I’ve worked here? You had to have the last word, even if I was leaving forever.” 

“No,” Aaron says, and you bite your tongue, trying to allow him a moment to respond even if you weren’t feeling all that gracious. “No, I couldn’t let you move on thinking the torch you were carrying ws unrequited.”

You’re struck by his words. “What are you trying to say?” 

“I’m sorry, it doesn’t matter. It’s a great opportunity for you in Vegas. I’m happy for you, and you shouldn’t let this--” 

“Hotch, what are you trying to say?”

“Just that I’m proud of you, and I know that you’ll do excellent work, and--”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to hide from me.” You call him out, and he looks at you for a moment. This time, you don’t break his glance. 

“I’m not trying to hide. I’m just too late.” He tells you, looking down at the floor. 

“Tell me, Hotchner. Tell me, please.” You beg of him, shifting to try to get him to look you in the eye.

“I love you, and I figured it out too late.” 

You draw in a sharp breath, and he’s sure he’s ruined any vestiges of friendship that still existed between the two of you in this moment, and that you’ll board your plane to Las Vegas and he’ll become a creepy old boss that you never think about again. He takes a moment to look at you, a moment to mourn what might have been, a moment to remember the way your laugh made him smile while the memories were still fresh. He takes a moment, and then you speak up.

“No,” you correct him. “You figured it out just in time.”

tagging: @choppa-style @wanniiieeee @zheezs14 @torykjamie @maureen4y

@ssavanessa22 @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @ssahotchie @infinite-tides

 @itsmytimetoodream @averyhotchner @msmarvelsmain @hotforhotchner11 @hotchinkevlar

hi besties I tried to tag everyone who said they wanted to be on my regular hotch list and a few of y’all who regularly interact with the right but if i made a mistake/u want to be removed u can lmk I will not be offended!!!

[nyx-aira]

Anything For Her

Requested by anon

Summary: Wanda and Nat have a surprise for you.

A/N: I wrote this at 2am and queued it, haven't looked at it so I hope it's alright, I'm heading to bed now

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

PSA c/@ynscrazylife

They had been secretive the whole week and you couldn't figure out why. That wasn't until Saturday when you woke up to the smell of breakfast and saw a tray with food and a little note on it.

"Meet us downstairs when you're finished."

Exited as you were for your surprise you ate as fast as possible, rushing to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready. You almost tripped over your own feet as you ran downstairs to meet your girlfriends.

Looking at them they had the biggest grin on their faces. Wanda stepped forward and brushed a smear of Nutella from your nose, smiling as you scrunched it up in that cut way of yours.

She pressed a short kiss to your cheek as she grabbed your hand and led you outside where Nat was already getting the car ready. Getting a kiss from the other redhead as well they showed you into the car, not telling you where you were going.

The drive wasn't long and soon you arrived at your destination. Exited you stepped out of the car and looked at the building right in front of you. It was a bookstore, the biggest you had ever seen.

"Happy anniversary love."

You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind as Nat put her head on your shoulder.

"Do you like it?" She asked innocently, knowing this was the best gift they could have made you.

"I love it." You said as you got out of her embrace and took both of their hands, dragging them inside. You were beaming, this was gonna be a great day.

Two hours later Nat and Wanda were carrying stacks of books as they followed you around, Wandas magic making it easier for the two redheads. They were looking at each other with a knowing grin, they knew this would happen but none of them were complaining.

Meanwhile you were sitting on a couch, surrounded by books as you decided which ones to choose, completely obvious to the world around you or that you had lost your girlfriends some time ago in the true crime section.

Wanda was the first one to notice you were gone. She tapped Nat on the shoulder and the other redhead immediately knew what was going on. She climbed up on one of the tables trying to get a better view but she couldn't see you.

All the while Wanda was asking an employee if they had seen you. In the end it was an elderly lady that pointed them in the right direction.

The sight that greeted them was adorable, you were sitting crisscrossed on the floor, stacks of books surrounding you as you were engrossed in a book that looked awfully like another true crime book.

"There you are, bookworm." Wanda teased, "we almost didn't see you under all these books."

You sheepishly looked up to them and close the book you were reading. Looking around you you noticed all the books you wanted to buy.

"I don't think that will fit into our car." Nat mused as she helped you collect the books on the floor.

You looked at Wanda with your best puppy dog eyes. It took you less than five seconds until she gave in.

"Fine", she stated with a smile, "I'll magic the books home."

You jumped into her arms and hugged her, pressing a shirt kiss to her lips before you did the same to Nat.

They just rolled their eyes at your antics and you started walking to the check out.

When you stepped out of the store you looked at your girlfriends, both smiling in your direction, bags of books floating around you.

They loved you and would do anything for you.

And you knew it.

-----

Taglist: @escapetodreamworld @midnight-lestrange @ynscrazylife @procrastinatingsapphictrash @ineffablebean @cliint @wlwlovesreading @satxnsupreme @ycfwmalise14 @yelenabelovasgf

[peaceisadirtyword]

Heathen (Ivar/Edlynn)

A/N: Hello♥️ as I promised, here’s the first chapter of the new series I’m writing. The idea came to me when I was rewatching Vikings and then I planned it while rewatching The Last Kingdom. So I started writing it, doing a bit of worldbuilding to introduce some original characters and here I am. It’s set on season 6B (I'm changing things, so it will not follow the show’s storyline). And I was really excited to write the mature version of Ivar, so I’m sorry if he seems a bit out of character. This chapter might be a bit boring, but it serves as an introduction. I hope you enjoy it, thank you for reading🥰 I will post a new chapter every Thursday at 21:00 (CET). 

Warnings: mentions of violence and war, talk of arranged marriage, alcohol... Well, it’s Vikings😅

Words: 4197 

Summary

gif belongs to @therealcalicali 

"I've heard the pagans are back" 

Edlynn raised her head. She sat next to the window, and had spent most of the time looking at the rain falling outside as she leant her head against the wall. It had been raining a lot those days. The beautiful cloth she was trying to practice her embroidery on was already forgotten and abandoned on her lap, a bit dirty with blood from all those times she had poked her finger with the needle.

The queen looked nervous when one of the girls in the room mentioned the northmen. Edlynn had also heard her father and even the king himself talking about it, whispering and with a frown, like men do when they talk about a very serious matter. They had already evacuated some of the towns near the coast, but no one really told her what was happening. 

"We must trust on our men and on God" she smiled at her "They will protect England, they always have" 

"I heard the king is thinking about evacuating the city too" other of the girls whined "What if they find us?" 

"They won't, my dear" the queen looked uncomfortable "I don't know about the plans my husband has, he won't discuss them with me, but I'm sure he'll do what is best for our people" 

Edlynn bit her lip. Queen Elsewith was nervous, she had seen her ordering the servants to start packing slowly, in case everyone had to leave the town. And there were whispers and an uneasiness that everyone had noticed. 

Next to her, her friend Mildrith leant in to speak softly. 

"I hope we can see the heathens from up close this time" she giggled. 

Edlynn had to hold back a smile. For some reason, Mildrith had a fascination for the northmen that called themselves vikings, even if everyone else was scared of them. She had been infatuated with a viking boy that worked on the lands King Alfred had given to the northmen some time ago. Even if neither Mildrith nor Edlynn had been allowed to visit those lands, King Alfred invited some of the settlers to dine in his own home sometimes, to secure the good relations with them. The boy and Mildrith had had a short but intense romance that Edlynn helped to hide from her family and the king, and since then she had been obsessed with learning about their culture. 

Edlynn could understand why, their ways and their traditions were different from the ones she had grown up with, and anyone with a bit of curiosity in them would want to know more. But no one let her learn about their Gods or they beliefs, for it was a sin. 

"I don't think we will" she shook her head and spoke softly "The King won't let them"

"Maybe they will be invited for a feast" Mildrith bit her lip, excited "And we can see them. They say they're are the same ones that took York" 

"We should go and pray" one of the women in the room stood up, interrupting Edlynn as she was about to answer her friend "For the safety of our country and our king, ask God to protect us"

Some of the women muttered in agreement, and soon the room filled with the noise of everyone standing and walking to the door. But before she could even stand, the queen approached. Quickly, Mildrith and her bowed their heads at Queen Elsewith respectfully. 

"Edlynn, I'd like to talk to you for a moment, if you will" 

She nodded slowly, and Mildrith excused herself after widening her eyes. 

"Yes, queen Elsewith?" 

"I just wanted to see if you were alright, Edlynn, these days I've barely seen you" 

She bit her lip again. The queen was always nice and kind to her, but it was still the queen and she couldn't act like close friends with her. And she definitely couldn't speak her mind freely. 

"Yes, I'm fine" she smiled softly "These days I wasn't feeling too well, I... Spent some time in my chambers just resting" 

"I was worried about you, you disappeared just after your engagement to Lord Edmund, and as I've also been there, I thought maybe I could help" 

The engagement. She had tried her best not to think about it the past few days. Even if Edlynn knew since she was born that she'd have to marry a stranger, it was still awkward to meet a man during a small feast that was announced as her future husband just half an hour later. 

In any case, she was still lucky, Lord Edmund was handsome, young and, as far as everyone knew, nice. Edlynn wasn't that upset about it, but it was still overwhelming, and the fact that she'd have to abandon the court, her friends -oh, what would she do without Mildrith?- and her family to go and live in a stranger's home saddened her. 

"Lord Edmund is a very good man that I can't wait to get to know better, and I feel honored and lucky that he chose me to be his wife" Edlynn repeated the words that Hilda, the nun that raised her after her mother's death, had made her learn in preparation for this moment. 

Elsewith smiled sadly at the young girl. It was a woman's duty, but she saw a lot of herself on Edlynn and she knew she must have been scared and nervous, even if she understood it. But Edlynn had always been a proper and obedient lady and, like many other women in her position, learnt to hide her true feelings. She'd never do anything that went against her father and the King's wishes.

"The king would never have let him ask for your hand in marriage if he didn't know he's a good man, a good warrior and a good Christian" the queen reassured her "He loves your family a lot and just wishes a good life for you"

"I know, my queen, and I will always be thankful to him and to you for how much kindness you've shown me and my family" 

Her smile widened. 

"I also wanted to talk to you about Mildrith" Elsewith sighed and started walking to the door "She really shouldn't go around talking about how she'd like to meet a northman, it's... Not proper"

"I know" muttered Edlynn, following her "I'll talk to her" 

She nodded, and just before exiting the room, Elsewith took her hand and squeezed it softly. In some way, she had always considered Edlynn her friend. 

"Remember you can come and talk to me any time you need" the queen smiled again "Women understand each other much better than men" 

"I will" she nodded "Thank you, my queen" Edlynn bowed her head again before Queen Elsewith turned around, walking to the nearest chapel escorted by two of the guards. 

__________________________________________

King Alfred threw a feast to celebrate the engagement. Usually, this kind of things weren't celebrated that much, but Edlynn's father, Lord Eldred, had been close to King Aethelwulf and was close to King Alfred,  becoming one of his most trusted men after his mother's death. Besides, Alfred and Edlynn grew up together and even if with time the both of them had learnt to keep their relationship purely formal, he still had a soft spot for her. 

Edlynn's sister had been married to a lord from Mercia and her brother was a proud member of King Alfred's personal guard. Now it was her turn to make the family proud by doing her duty and what she had been born to: Stand next to her soon-to-be-husband and smile politely at strangers that couldn't care less about her and her happiness but that queued to wish the both of them a happy marriage. 

Even if she knew that was what she was supposed to do, it was still boring. 

"The king has told me you enjoy reading" Lord Edmund, sitting next to her, was the one that started the conversation after talking with the king and her father about war. 

Edlynn was surprised when he spoke to her. It was the first time the two of them talked. She wasn't very talkative, at least not at the beginning, and didn't really expect more from him than the usual formalities. She had seen marriages like this many times, and didn't really expected him to acknowledge her much in public.

"I do" she smiled politely. 

"It's nice, what kind of things you like to read?" 

"Mostly, about history" she bit her lip nervously "I find the Romans particularly interesting" 

Lord Edmund nodded. 

"I will make sure that you have enough to read back in my castle" he said softly "And don't be afraid of asking for anything that you need or want to feel comfortable" 

That surprised Edlynn even more. He smiled at her confused face and his grey eyes fixed on hers. 'At least he has pretty eyes' she thought. Maybe their children would inherit his grey eyes and not her brown ones. For some reason, she didn't feel that overwhelmed by the thought of a young child with his grey eyes and her auburn hair.

"I knew you were special since I saw you, when I first arrived here to take an oath to King Alfred after my father's death, that's why I asked your father for your hand in marriage, and I'm pleased to know there's much more about you behind your beauty" 

His words were so sweet, and one lock of his bright black hair fell next to his face, giving him an attractive look that made Edlynn understand why many women had been glaring at her since the engagement was announced. 

"You flatter me, my lord" she tried your best to sound confident "I appreciate your kindness, thank you" 

From the corner of her eye, she could see her father and Hilda, the nun, watching her. Edlynn straightened her back and kept talking to Lord Edmund, feeling a strange emptiness inside her. 

____________________________________

Ivar knew taking England wouldn't be easy, but it would definitely be easier if he was leading the entire army. 

King Harald had the last word, and even if he trusted him enough to let him think about the strategies, it wasn't the same. Ivar made a flawless plan, he thought about every single detail, and he knew exactly what the english would do. It wasn't too hard. 

"So, King Alfred is evacuating the city" Harald emptied his drink, taking another piece of meat before his deep blue eyes fixed on Ivar, who ate in silence next to his brother. Hvitserk ignored them, focusing on the food on his plate "Should we take it?"

Ivar raised an eyebrow and swallowed the food before taking his cup to drink some more ale. 

"We need to defeat Alfred first, we can't do much with just the city"

Harald shrugged. 

"Defeating him in battle won't change much either, we need to gain some more ground" 

Ivar hummed, nodding. 

"I agree, and we should try and find something that gives us some kind of advantage over them, because we are outnumbered and we can't defeat them just by winning battles, they can assemble another army faster than us" 

"And? You're the strategist here, Ivar" Harald chuckled. In some way, he was happy to have the youngest Ragnarsson back on his side.

"We need to find something that makes them surrender to our terms and buys us some time" Ivar raised an eyebrow. 

"Like a hostage?" Hvitserk raised his head for the first time since the food arrived. He let Ivar do the talk, and stuck to fighting. 

Ivar smirked at his brother. 

"Exactly. A hostage, dear brother" 

"I don't think that a couple of soldiers captured in battle will make them surrender to our terms" Harald shrugged again "We'd need someone else, someone like..."

"The queen" 

The king raised an eyebrow at him, while Ivar smiled softly.

"Christian women don't go to battle, and we can't try and break into their camp, there will be too many guards"

"Exactly, so we need to find a moment in which the men are occupied with something else, something like..."

"A battle" Hvitserk chuckled. 

Ivar nodded winking at his brother.

"So you mean to kidnap the queen during the battle" Harald nodded slowly "It could work"

"The queen won't be far from the battlefield, and there won't be so many guards" Ivar shrugged, taking another bite from his plate. 

"We could go and meet them on a battlefield, I already explored some of the lands around here and I think it would be easier to attract them to the woods" Ivar nibbled one of the ribs "Then, we ambush them, and keep them distracted enough time to sneak into their camp and take the queen"

"And then?" Harald looked interested. Sometimes, he found Ivar's mind fascinating.

"Then we negotiate" he shrugged "We just want some land, right? The queen in exchange for that land, I think it's a fair exchange, then, when we have the land, some resources and a place to settle down, we can continue fighting, because we will be stronger" 

"But he could betray us after he gets his queen back" Hvitserk raised an eyebrow. 

"I know Alfred, he won't" Ivar shook his head "Not as long as he thinks we're willing to stop the raids and the invasion if we get the land" 

"So we lie to him" Harald pointed, and Ivar nodded slowly. 

"But first" he raised an eyebrow "We need the queen"

_________________________________

 The beds on the camp were uncomfortable. Edlynn didn't complain, though, knowing everyone had bigger problems than worrying about her not getting any sleep. 

Just two days after the engagement feast, king Alfred ordered to evacuate the city. The northmen were too close, and it was too dangerous, it was the only explanation she got when her father bursted into the chambers and ordered to pack only the necessary. Edlynn barely saw him since then, as he and Edward, her brother, would ride with the king when everyone was moving and didn't leave the king's tent when they camped, too busy with battle plans and strategies. Queen Elsewith was also with them, and Edlynn's betrothed, Lord Edmund, too. Betrothed... It still sounded too irreal. At least, he rode next to the carriage she traveled in. 

Mildrith was the only one that found the entire thing exciting. Edlynn often found her wandering outside the camp, and didn't mind how many times she begged her to stay in the tent, Mildrith wouldn't listen. 

Edlynn could sneak a couple of books inside of her trunk, hidden between some dresses, and it was the only entertainment she had. 

"They say tomorrow there will be a battle" Mildrith muttered as she watched some of the soldiers training. It was raining and the both of them stayed inside of the tent, just at the entrance so Edlynn could read and Mildrith could watch the people around. 

"The King and our men will be victorious" Edlynn repeated what Hilda said every time she mentioned the war "We have God on our side"

Mildrith frowned, as she always did when she heard that phrase, which was the only thing everyone seemed to say these days.

"I'm not so sure about that, Lynn" she muttered "They are smart and their Gods are fierce, they say that they're lead by the same one that took York" she lowered her tone "Ivar the Boneless" 

Her friend raised an eyebrow, the name was familiar. 

"Why do they call him boneless?" 

"Because he can't walk" Mildrith shrugged like it was obvious "They say he crawls around like a snake, and that he's fierce and vicious... Some even say he's the Devil incarnated" 

Edlynn rolled her eyes.

"Those are tales, Mildrith, he's just a man" she chuckled "A cruel one, a heathen, but just a man, he's just like you and me" 

"Some women say he's handsome too" she giggled. 

"Have they seen him?" 

"Yes, in York, they said he's cruel but beautiful, just looking at him felt like a sin" 

Edlynn closed her book. 

"You shouldn't go around saying these things, Mildrith, anyone would think you're in love with that heathen"

She laughed out loud, making some of the soldiers near them turn to look at her. 

"I'm not in love with him, I don't know him" she shrugged "But I'd like to see him, at least once" 

Edlynn rolled her eyes again, shaking her head before going back to the book.

__________________________________

Edlynn didn't know how to feel when she saw the men leaving. King Alfred said goodbye to his queen and Edlynn hugged her father and brother. Even Lord Edmund kissed the back of her hand and bowed his head with a gentle smile on his lips. She didn't know how to react, as she never had to say goodbye to the men when they left to battle. Should I cry? Smile? She tried her best to imitate queen Elsewith. 

"Pray for us" her father kissed Edlynn's forehead softly for the last time before getting on his horse "And may God be with us" 

She nodded slowly and kept silent as they left the camp. 

After a couple of minutes in silence, the queen walked towards her, making Edlynn nervous. Will she scold me for not doing this well? 

"Edlynn, I'd like you to join me in my tent to pray for the safe return of the king and his men"

She looked around. Some of the women looked at her, probably jealous of seeing she had the queen's favor and thinking that was the reason why she had been betrothed to Lord Edmund. 

"Of course" Edlynn nodded her head respectfully, ignoring them.

The queen smiled brightly at her, relieved to hear her agreeing. She had a bad feeling about this new war, and worried about her husband, but  also hoped to find some kind of peace on the tent. 

"You can go, there's food and wine, I'll go talk to the priest first, and then I'll join you"

Edlynn nodded with a small smile. Her eyes found Hilda's, who smiled proudly at the young girl she loved so much. Mildrith waited until the queen had walked away and then approached her friend. 

"What's with you and the queen?" 

Edlynn shrugged. 

"I suppose she's just trying to be nice, after all she understands what's like to be betrothed to someone you don't know" 

"Oh" Mildrith bit her lip, almost like she had forgotten Edlynn was about to marry a stranger "Yes, it makes sense... Anyway, be careful, people will start thinking you're trying to win the queen's favor" 

Edlynn glanced to a group of women from the court, who looked at the both of them and whispered. 

"I'll go to the queen's tent now" she decided to ignore it "Join me later? We could go to the river and maybe bathe" 

Anything to avoid thinking about the battle that was probably going to take place soon. 

Mildrith nodded with a smile and waved at her as she approached the tent. The guards bowed their heads respectfully and moved to let her enter. It was much bigger than the tent Edlynn shared with Hilda, and the bed looked much comfortable than the one they had given to her. The bedding was soft and warm, and made her sigh in jealousy as her eyes wandered around the tent. 

There was a table with some food and wine on it, and Edlynn's mouth watered as she realized she still hadn't eaten. In front of the bed, there was a table with a cross and a few candles, which was where she supposed both the king and the queen said their prayers. 

Edlynn glanced at the entrance to make sure no one entered and quickly grabbed a grape from one of the bronze plates and turned around to savor it. She loved grapes, and the best ones could only be found at the king's table. 

But as she glanced down to hide her face in case the queen entered, Edlynn noticed something on the rug that covered the floor of the tent. Frowning, and wondering why there was a dark spot just before her, she bended down to examine it, widening her eyes when she realized it was blood. There wasn't just one spot, but a trail that disappeared behind a curtain, and suddenly she realized something else. 

The guards didn't ask who I was before letting me in. 

Before Edlynn could even react, someone grabbed her from behind, putting their hands on her mouth to stifle the scream that left her throat. She writhed and fought, but there was two of them, too strong for her. Suddenly, she heard a whisper on a foreign language and then an intense pain on the back of her head as one of the two men hit the back of her head with the handle of his sword before there was only darkness. 

________________________________

Ivar was proud. Once again, he ensured a clear victory over the saxons with a flawless plan, and he demonstrated he still was the brilliant strategist everyone admired. Even Harald looked impressed to see that the risky plan to defeat King Alfred's army had been successful. Ivar seemed to read the young king's mind perfectly, and if everything had gone well with the other part of the plan, they'd have a queen waiting for them in the camp that would make things even easier for them. Hvitserk also looked satisfied, having missed the adrenaline of the battlefield and the satisfaction of killing too much. Harald admitted he was wary of those two, with Ivar's sharp mind and Hvitserk's skills in battle, they were nearly unbeatable. 

Thanks Odin any of them had given any signs of wanting the crown of Norway Harald had fought so hard to get. But he still didn't trust Ivar completely. 

But now they had a common cause, and he hoped that controlling some lands in England would satisfy Ivar's hunger for power. 

"So..." Ivar didn't speak until he had finished two horns of ale. The intensity of the battle, standing for so long and walking with the crutches left him exhausted "Do we have a queen or not?" 

The men that had just entered the tent, still wearing the saxon's armor, bowed their heads before speaking. 

"We do" one of them smiled victoriously "She's unconscious, but guarded, we had to hit her to bring her here" 

Hvitserk raised an eyebrow. Ivar had made very clear that he didn't want the queen harmed. Not yet at least, he had said with a chuckle the night before, Alfred won't surrender to our terms if we harm her. 

"She's fine, though" the other man glared at his companion "It was just a small blow on the head" 

Harald nodded, ignoring the stern glare Ivar sent their way. 

"Try and wake her up" the king ordered "We'll talk to her before feasting and resting" 

The men bowed again and left. Harald then turned to look at the brothers. In some way, it hurt to see them so close again, reminding him of his own brother, who had also been his most loyal friend. The Ragnarssons didn't have the best relationship, but he noticed they looked much closer since they went back to Kattegat after being with the Rus. He didn't know what had happened there between them, but now he was sure no one could get between them. He envied them for that. 

Now they seemed to be having a conversation in silence, with just some stares and grimaces. 

"Your plan worked" he said out loud, looking at Ivar. The youngest son of Ragnar shot him a cocky smile. 

"Of course it worked, saxons are predictable" he shrugged "And Alfred won't dare to attack us when we have his queen" his eyes shone with pride. 

"I wonder if she's pretty" Hvitserk muttered with a dreamy smile as he chewed on a piece of bread. Harald smirked at that, he understood the feeling of coming back from battle and feeling the need to have a woman after filling his belly with warm food and cold drinks. It helped to relax. 

Ivar rolled his eyes. He was never as interested in women as his brothers were, and the few times he actually was with women had ended in disaster. So he couldn't understand the obsession. 

"She's a christian, so probably not" he shrugged "Anyway, that's the last thing we should worry about" 

"There are beautiful christian women out there, little brother" Hvitserk chuckled, amused by his brother's annoyance. 

"They're weak" he narrowed his eyes "They are always scared, they don't fight and they don't have the spirit and the courage of viking women"

"How many christian women have you met, Ivar?" Harald laughed. 

Ivar frowned. He had had too much contact with christians for his liking.

"Anyway" he scowled, annoyed, as he stood up leaning on his crutch "Let's go, we have a queen to meet".

__________________________________

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @therealcalicali @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @gruffle1​ @justacripple​ @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly​ @letsrunawaytotomorrow​ @inforapound​ @sallydelys​ @hellogabysblog​ @winchesterwife27​ @hecohansen31​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @tgrrose​ @lovessce​ @tootie-fruity​ @didiintheblog​ @alexhandersenx​ @belovedcherry​ @fantasydevil2002​ @xceafh​ @astrape-the-weatherwitch​ @destynelseclipsa​ @momowhoo​ @mcrmarvelloki​ @nanahachikyuu​ @valopz​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @poisonous00​ @whenimaunicorn​ @heavenly1927​

[bitchassbucky]

.eps (explicit)

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: dark!bucky x dark!reader, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood mention, gore and dismemberment/beheading, murder, toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, sedation/drugging/use of sedative, stockholm syndrome-ish, one very special character reveal

A/N: i told y'all there's more <3 the special character treat is for @sarge-barnes-sir mwah!

this is queued shdhhsh gonna fix the links in the mornin’

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS ABOVE, IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THIS VERSION, GO AND CHECK OUT THE NON-EXPLICIT VERSION.

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Safeness, comfortability, warmth are all but a false sense of reality.

When a prey takes down its walls, the predator moves in. Camouflaged in familiar colors, in words that you’re used to hearing, in praises, in lies. Most predators use the mask of the night to move in darkness—unyielding and calculated. Come morning, there will be only one left alive, tainted with victory and bloodshed.

You and Bucky have been engaging in a dance for two—a battle of who’s willing to take the leap of faith and unleash hell upon the other.

Stifled smiles and pursed lips.

The air is filled with unsaid irritants, little things that ticked away like bombs.

There was no time for pleading, no time for mercy, no rest for the wicked.

Did you still love each other?

How far are you willing to go to keep up with his… complacency?

Bucky’s mundane life already taking a toll on you. The endless nightmares of him feeling you. The swirling vision of Bucky being with you every waking—and sleeping—moment: it grates your soul to shreds.

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

“Yes, darling.”

“What about the day after forever?”

“That too, honey.”

Where was the man you loved so deeply? The man that broke his morals just to be with you?

Was he under this hull of a Yes Man? A poor little thing that says ‘yes’ to everything like a puppy.

The man you held so dearly now slipping away, chipping his humanity, shedding the once-human.

“Would you marry me tomorrow if I asked you?”

“Of course, baby, why wouldn’t I?”

“Would you kill for me?”

“I’m meant to do the same for you.”

It’s irritating how Bucky gave up too quickly. Too fast, moving too fast. The gazelle let the lion tear its neck as it lay there, unmoving, letting the blood seep into its hide.

When you first met Bucky, it was your own fairytale unfolding before your eyes. Kismet, reality, forgiveness from above. He was soft and shy, passionate, lively.

Far from what you expected from a man his age—you blame Steve for forcing you into his narrative before. That all men are out to get you. They will hurt you. They will use you and leave you for good. But Bucky? Bucky came in like a knight. He saved you from the carcass of your past. He saved you from the sins that you prayed and knelt for.

Bucky taught you how to love.

Bucky taught you how to live for yourself.

Bucky taught you that being alone doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.

“It was an unspoken little thing, wasn’t it?”

“What thing, baby?”

“Our love.”

“Yes, honey, it was.”

He worships you.

He worships you like a fucking God and you hate it.

Suffocating, too suffocating. You dove straight for the water and now you’re drowning.

Do you still love each other? The question hangs in the air, heavy with its weight, light as a feather.

It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.

So you stand there with a syringe half-filled with a horse sedative. It’s a concern how easy it is to waltz into a pet store and pick up a general anesthetic. You make a mental note to look at it later.

Bucky’s body slumps forward, his forehead meeting the edge of the table with a dull thud. If the overdose doesn’t kill him, the weeping crack in his head will.

Holy fuck, humans bleed a lot. And fast. Good thing you already have that clear tarp taped down. Even with the hush money stuffed down your throat, it would take a good nick to regrout the kitchen.

“What is that for, honey?”

“I’m painting the cabinets.”

“Okay, darling.”

So you let him bleed, surprised that the liquid is redder than what you thought it would be. A soft gurgling noise came from Bucky, the last of air escaping his dead body. You stood there, syringe in hand, as you thought how to dispose of a six-foot-tall man without arousing suspicion.

Not that he’ll be missed anyway: the local news and the internet already branded him as a psycho and you as a victim. You were both victims in this fairytale. They reported his case as “skipped the town like the sicko he is.” So, no—no one’s going to look for him.

The sun was high up in the sky and there was a dead body in your kitchen.

A butcher and a surgeon walks into a bar for a drink. “What do you do for a living?” Said the butcher, “I save lives! What about you?” The doctor answers. “I save animals from dying slowly. We’re basically the same. You’re just very clean.” You see, the butcher comes into the bar covered in blood, reeking of death. The surgeon, on the other hand, wears his white coat with pride even though he’s surrounded by death every passing second.

Today was the day you learned that you have the tools of a butcher and the precision of a surgeon. Unlike before.

You carefully take Bucky’s fingers off of his left hand, leaving a skin flap on the edge of the last knuckle for you to stitch close later. Four promises. Four goddamn promises and he broke all of them.

It was his fault that he’s dead. He made you do this.

Starting with his left shoulder, you jab the knife between the bone and the soft flesh of his armpit, bringing the blade downwards. The sickening smell of blood swirled along with the image of muscle and fat being sliced made you gag.

Does the brain know that it’s seeing something it shouldn’t?

A rational part of you wanted to look away but the time is ticking, it’ll be much harder once rigor mortis sets in an hour.

You swing the knife down, cracking the bone once, and then again, and again, and again until the shoulder bone splinters and dislocates itself from the rest of Bucky’s torso. You had to switch knives and blades and a fucking bone saw to get through the rest of his limbs, leaving only his chest, head, and stomach untouched. After taping up and packing the arms and the legs, you work on putting the rest of Bucky into a nondescript suitcase.

The only problem being his head getting into the way of things.

Wanting to preserve even a shred of his dignity, you left his face untouched. Well, save from the crack in his skull.

You begrudgingly take a hefty chef’s knife and start cutting through the jugular vein, only stopping when the blade hits the spinal cord by his nape. The serrated blade of the bone saw sits on your blood-soaked gloves, scrape-scrape-scraping until it snaps into two.

The human head weighs around 10 pounds, kinda like a bowling ball.

An opaque black garbage bag containing Bucky’s head looks nothing suspicious as you put it inside a backpack—into a firepit you go.

His limbs—arms and legs alike—are going deep into the ocean, forgotten and to be used as fish food.

The limbless torso will be finding its home in a deep hole in the middle of a densely wooded area, far from the city.

But you’re not quite sure what to do with the mason jar of teeth though; the clinking noises of it remind you of the seashells you used to collect when you were a kid. Maybe you’ll stash it away with the torso.

Placing the bags into the trunk of a rental, you begin your journey to the end of your fairytale.

The drive to and from the places was tiring, to say the least. The internet connection of the diners was spotty at best. Locals were overly friendly with the city folks who came passing through their towns. The roads reek of roadkill and manure from the farm animals that were left to roam for fresh grass.

At least you get to come home in a spotless apartment, alone once again.

But not lonely.

Your space is yours again. No trace of anyone anywhere. Immaculately yours.

—

Humans are social creatures.

No one can truly be alone, especially in today’s world where we’re connected to everyone—whether we liked it or not.

Leaving your wretched job behind was an easy feat to do. No one can say no to the victim of such a vile crime. That’s all they saw you: a helpless little thing. So off you went; saying half-assed goodbyes and sending emails of courage and hope and fucking resilience.

Your resignation meant that the company’s free of any dirt from you, Bucky’s disappearance quickly becoming a joke and a rumor blending in one.

They let you leave: in your bank account a fat check ensuring that you’d shut up about the scandal for months until you can’t feed yourself no more. So you packed your bags and jet off without looking back. You never liked that apartment anyway.

Nevertheless, you found yourself looking into another dead-end job in one of the towns you stopped over before. It’s a charming place like time froze in their plaza while the rest of the world went on. You found a small studio apartment in a street tuckered away from the main avenue, you settled there as days became nights and nights turned into days.

You woke up one morning craving a healthy serving of coffee and pancakes, luckily the town’s local diner wasn’t far from your new home.

The coffee was too hot, the pancakes were amazing, fluffy, and just right. You’re sitting in a sunny booth, the warmth doing its wonders.

“Hi, can I get today’s paper, please?” Your voice is sweet as you call your server, giving her a quick smile.

A pair of Raybans adorn your face, unconsciously hiding behind its darkened glasses. The waitress gives you a thick stack of newspapers, refilling your cup with black coffee.

Upon opening the paper, you ignore the town’s headlines and went straight for the job postings. The door jingled open as patrons come in and go, waving to familiar faces.

Job Vacancy Announcements

Secretary to the Town Sheriff

You skimmed over the rest of the details, only noting the address of the office. The job looks quite lucrative for someone who would only take messages and organize files for the sheriff.

Looking over the job posting again, you read over the words walk-ins only. That shouldn’t be hard enough.

The diner looked deserted save from the man sitting behind your booth. Leaning over and tapping his shoulder, you put on a polite smile, “Hi, sorry, do you know how to get to the sheriff’s office from here?”

“Hello, darling.” The man croons in an accent, he looks over to you, “join me in my booth, will ‘ya?”

You’re in no position to reject his proposal, you’re the one who needed an answer.

Taking your coffee cup, you slide into his booth, “hi.”

“Just the face I wanted to see.” Clean-shaven, a hint of mint and smoke, and something woody; a worn leather jacket and white button-up shirt hugging his soft frame. “Some folks over on the apartment complex were talkin’ about a city girl wanting to rent a studio all by herself. That happen to be you?”

You look over to him, trying to understand how that small of news spread like a wildfire, “yeah. I moved in a week ago.”

He leans over, smiling sweetly as he unabashedly lets his eyes roam your features, “What’s a city girl like you doin’ in a place like this? I hope we ain’t too boring for you, gal.”

Chatty—he’s way too chatty.

“Just wanted a change of pace, really. Away from the bustle of the city.” You rustle the paper, clearing your throat to get back on the matter on hand, “so the sheriff’s office? Is it too far from here?”

“What business are ‘ya bringing into the office?”

“A job, actually. Says here that they’re looking for a secretary.” You might as well tell him everything, he seems too chatty to be dismissed over and over again.

“Well, darlin’, today’s your lucky day. No need to drive down the old road.” He reaches down to his seat, pulling up a brown hat, “Hi, I’m Sheriff Bodecker. Now, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

You bite back a giggle, you’ve always wanted to be involved with the law.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 141

Last week I posted a day early because vacation was doing vacation things to my sense of time.... This week I forgot to queue the chapter up because Monday was a work holiday, so I forgot today was Tuesday. *insert facepalm here please*

Thanks on this one go largely to @baelpenrose who rightfully pointed out that one part made very little sense to him and therefore was unlikely to make sense to a reader.  The clarification smoothed things out quite a bit, I think.  Just in case, whoever spots the area I’m talking about gets a cookie as soon as travel restrictions lift.

As always, thanks go also to @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname for completing the corners of my support system. And, a super-duper extra-special to @drinksteawithcake! I don’t know if I am allowed to tell everyone why, but you know why you get the extra-special, and I hope you are having fun!

BWAAAAAHP!   BWAAAAAHP!

“Uhhh?” I squinted in complaint as flailing arms clambered over me. One pair snagged me around my waist to drag me from bed before depositing me shakily on my feet. “What are you - ?”

BWAAAAAHP!  BWAAAAAHP!

Any trace of sleep was shoved out of my system, replaced by sizzling alertness when I realized I was hearing ship-wide alarms.  Shoving myself into the first clothing I grabbed, not even bothering with shoes, I was hot on Conor and Maverick’s heels as we raced out of our quarters and into the corridor. We paused only long enough for both men to kiss me and for “I love yous” to be exchanged before they turned and headed toward the areas indicated on their datascreens, while I hauled ass toward the Archives, ducking and twisting to avoid anyone in my path.

“Forty minutes,” Tyche told me crisply as I basically fell through the door, panting. “The Ark could be invaded and the battle over by the time you make it.”

“I ran….huff….the whole….ugh….way….” I managed to gasp out.  Part of me felt like puking, but I was pretty sure the muscles in my abdomen were too busy to figure out the logistics.

Clicking her tongue, she pulled me up from the floor. “Alistair, make a note to suggest to Xio that Sophia’s quarters be relocated once we have a better idea of when we are dropping into real space.”

I nodded numbly. “And probably… amp up… sensors… give… earlier… warning.”

“Nice outfit, by the way,” she laughed quietly as we finally reached the shelter point within the Archives.

Glancing down, I had to suppress a sigh. The first thing I grabbed to dress myself had apparently been a pair of Conor’s boxer shorts and a very filthy t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Maverick, since Conor’s was usually under coveralls. “At least you can’t say I took my time getting dressed.”

Her shaking head was greeted by faces in various states of wakefulness - this had been a drill, and woke nearly the entire Ark during their sleep interval on Delta shift.  But we weren’t out of the woods, yet: the drill didn’t end until all of Xiomara and Evan’s scenarios played out, including the mock combat and various tests of concealment for the other shelters.  As such, Tyche stood guard over the choke-point into this section, while Alistair had stayed behind at the entrance.

Early on, when the drills started, there had been fifty-fifty odds that the mock-invaders would make it this far, but over the past few weeks, that had narrowed to maybe twenty-percent.  It was still too high a chance in my judgement, and Xiomara clearly agreed as she stepped up training schedules and randomized the timing of the drills. 

Taking a swig of water from a stash of bottles, I queued up my datapad and stood next to Tyche, watching the ‘casualties’ from a point where no one could see over my shoulder to avoid panic, which I would have done in a real situation. “They didn’t find mess hall seven this time,” I murmured.

She glanced at my screen. “Acoustics are still too damned high. She must not be simulating for that this go around.”

One of the decoy locations lit up. “Looks like this time it’s heavy on thermal.” The location in question had been equipped with a cooking surface, triggered to activate when the klaxons that had woken me up went off.  Which Xiomara knew, but did not tell the ‘pirates’ for authenticity.

“How did they get past the combatants this time?” She asked, both curious and slightly worried.

Rolling back the sensor data, I watched it carefully. “Looks like these got in during the initial breaches, multiple points. But the line has held since, that’s good.”

Doing another check toward Alistair’s direction, she didn’t seem to see anything concerning. “How many?”

“Four,” I confirmed.  “Sam’s thermal camouflage is working beautifully, though.”  I couldn’t help but grin, and Tyche snorted at the same time. ‘Thermal camouflage’ was a bit of overkill as a name, but it was working well in every round. Potential access points were equipped with fast-acting environmental simulators - originally designed for temporary habitats on inhospitable moons - modified to release atmosphere like a Terran equatorial rainforest within one minute in an enclosed space.  It was a much more simple and elegant solution than any others we had found for giving combatants defending the Ark an advantage - instead of trying to create technology to make them look colder, make the entire area match human heat signatures.  Boom, instantly blinded enemies.

A tense half-hour later, the ‘all clear’ sounded, queueing grumbling from those who had dozed back off as everyone stood to make their ways back to their quarters. I waited with Alistair and Tyche for everyone else to be accounted for on the way out, and the three of us headed back toward our quarters together.  Alistair peeled off first, living closest to the Archives, and no sooner had my sister and I reached my door than the page sounded for the post-drill meeting.  She waved me off as she answered on her databand, and I did the same as I pushed into my quarters and flopped on the couch. “Councillor Sophia Reid, present, audio only,” I answered. “And no jokes, Pranav… I look like I smell awful.”

“Alistair Worthington, present, audio and video. I can confirm that she does, and she does.”

Laughter filled the comms and the rest of the group leaders and Councillors joined the debrief.  Finally, everyone was present and Xiomara called the meeting to order.  First, the leaders of each shelter reported in, as those usually went the fastest. There were a couple malfunctions in the deployment of the shielding to disguise the entrances and hide heat and electrical signatures, but nothing Huynh’s team couldn’t fix.  Tyche and Alistair made the recommendations around earlier detection and the need to move those sheltering in the  Archives closer as we approached time to drop out of relativistic space. 

Once that was out of the way, it was on to the combat and invasion teams. Overall consensus was that Sam’s trick with the portable environments was a rousing success and would be installed at each point determined to be most likely as a breach, with trigger conditions to be determined later. “I hate to say it,” Michael sighed, “but we also need Charly’s team to crank up the scovilles on the arrows and grenades.” His team had played the ‘invaders’ this go around, equipped with sensors and readouts to simulate the effect our defenses would have on the various species who most commonly were found on pirate vessels.  Evan had worked intensely with Pranav and Derek to ensure that the strategies provided by the readouts were modelled after similar strategies based on which ever species each team member was assigned, to ensure we weren’t accidentally drilling against human tactics.

Michael hated it, but he was strict about his team complying nonetheless.

“Seriously?” I squawked, and I wasn’t the only one. “One of those things accidentally went off in my quarters…. Can confirm, they’re pretty potent.”

“They dissipated too fast against my team, and also the contact element left a lot to be desired. Charly, you may want to consider adding a sticking element.”

“Duly noted,” she chimed in with a yawn, her normal pep doused by being woken up and then the drop in adrenaline post-combat.

“What about the sonic weapons?” Xiomara asked, moving the meeting along.

“Still less effective than Nixe is on her own,” a familiar voice I couldn’t put a name to responded with a sheepish tone.  “How hard would it be to train more people to shatter glass with their voice?”

“Incredibly,” Grey stressed. “It takes a very unique combination of training and the right vocal chords.”

“Then we may need to work on adding a projection component.  The sonic devices can match the pitch, but not the actual tone and direction. They’re very effective given time and especially contact, but we need something more immediately disabling.”

Xiomara groaned. “Are we back to Mariah Carey on this one?” Objections exploded until she muted the comms. “It’s that or opera.” Votes started scrolling up the screen, and I could see Xio nod. “Opera it is.  Let’s find a suitable piece and try using more analogue-style speakers.”

“I still say that death metal would work better,” Arthur suggested as soon as the comms were back on.

“Annnnd we already tested it, I will remind you. The volume works, but the pitches aren’t high enough to hit a broad enough population of species sensitive to sound.” After that nearly-obligatory objection, the meeting continued going through reports from each combat team until finally Xiomara announced the end results. “I have to admit, this was one of our best drills yet. Ten percent casualties of the combatants defending the breaches, only two percent among non-combatants, and the invaders were only able to traverse three decks before they were subdued.” She let the cheers go for a couple seconds before getting everyone’s attention again. “Yes, great job on the improvements, but let me remind everyone - those numbers still leave us below threshold for a healthy genetic population. Engineering teams, make the necessary adjustments with whatever resources are necessary. Shelters Three and Seven, you will start training for armed and unarmed combat with Shelter Fourteen and Combat Team Two daily.  Sophia, your team will coordinate schedules. Any questions?”

There were no arguments, not even a groan or mutter as the meeting was dismissed. Before I could even add the new task to my agenda the next day, I received the notification that Alistair had beaten me to the punch.

Glancing at the time, I wanted to hit something.  I had to be back up and at work in four hours, and the realization weighed me down with exhaustion.  The guys had come in and gone to bed while I was in the debrief, and I could already hear synchronized snoring coming from the bedroom.  Rather than risk waking them with my now-frozen feet, I pulled the quilt off the back of my couch and rolled myself into it.  Only minutes later, a heavy weight oozed across my hip and started purring furiously.

“Yeah, buddy. I agree. We need a nap.”

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[corvus--rex]

The last one was the prequel to this one, which I actually wrote first. It's not even the beginning of the main story, but it was what I came up with first. Oh well. I wanted to do cyberpunk without it being Leakira (which I do love, I just wanted to do something different), and came up with this. I have played the shit out of Shadowrun tabletop, so a lot of it comes from that. And since it's part of the last post, it's still an Omegaverse :)

~*~*~*~

Lance backed away, raising his hands. “Hey, no need for that. I’m not even armed.”

The mercenary pointed with his weapon.

“Over here?” Lance asked, still playing the game. “Ok.” He walked over to the window of the high-rise. “Might want to watch that draft. Wouldn’t want to come down with something.”

His hard-wired comm picked up everything, making the assassin on the ledge outside chuckle. But he knew that it was his cue, and punched through the window feet first, his tech-enhanced boots forcing through the thick glass easily. The black monofilament blade glowed red with heat, cauterizing the sliced wound to the mercenary’s throat and killing him instantly. Lance pulled out a modified holdout pistol, taking out the overpaid mercenary that followed with perfect aim.

“Red! On your nine!” Lance yelled above incoming fire.

A small knife flew, catching the mercenary in the throat. Keith used his falling body as a springboard, launching himself at the next target. Both he and Lance heard the same thing over their comms.

“Comin’ in hot!” Shiro yelled.

Lance and Keith both knew what that meant. That meant that this semi-stealth mission was turning into a Russian stealth mission, and that it was coming in the form of Hunk’s gatling gun. Soon enough, they both heard the whine of a spinning barrel and the screaming of rapid laser fire. Mercenaries were still pouring in and the teammates knew that they would still have to fight their way out. Lance had already retrieved the files and uploaded Pidge’s traceless virus. All they needed to do was get out.

Keith spun in the air, knives flying, carving a path to the exit. As he turned, he caught sight of a mercenary coming up a little too quickly behind Lance. His violet eyes went wide, launching himself off walls, furniture, and bodies.

“BLUE!” he screamed as the mercenary drew a small pistol and fired.

Lance’s gasp caught in his throat, his free hand going to the exit wound in his chest and dropping to the floor. This was wrong. These were just mercenaries. And the Voltron Pack always wore heavily modified body armor. There was no way something so small should have been able to punch through that. In a blind rage, Keith hit the mercenary hard enough to pin him to the floor, drawing the ultraviolet hard-light blade he kept on his back. Pressing his thumb to a bioscanner on the hilt, the small knife expanded in an instant to the straight-edged ninjato, which he plunged through the mercenary’s chest plate. He turned the blade back, jamming it into its sheath.

“Blue’s down! We need evac! NOW!”

The laser bolt from the pistol meant that Lance’s wound was cauterized and he wouldn’t bleed out, but it didn’t keep him from going into shock. Keith barely had the presence of mind to retrieve both Lance’s and the mercenary’s weapons before returning to the marksman.

“Stay with me. Come on, Blue. Team’s coming. I need you to hold on. You’ll make it.” Keith was rambling, and he knew it. But he couldn’t help himself as he watched the light in his Alpha’s blue eyes dim.

The sound of electricity and the smell of ozone whipped past Keith’s senses, a small blur following. Several mercenaries dropped, the blur that was Pidge spinning, her electrified katar flying through the next throng. A powered whine and sharp crack felled a line of mercenaries, Allura quickly moving on to the next group with her whip. Knowing that backup had arrived, Keith focused on keeping Lance awake. The Alpha was only barely conscious, the bolt having blown straight through his lung.

“Come on, baby. Stay with me. Team’s here. We’re getting you out.”

Keith was desperately trying to keep his scent hopeful, but the fear and panic saturating his mate’s was overwhelming. Lance was afraid of dying, and it was looking like a very real possibility. The Alpha’s hand moved, a brief jerking spasm. Keith took it, pulling the tactical glove off and holding it to his face, softly kissing his mate’s palm.

“You’ll be ok. We’re getting out.”

Pidge came up, putting a gentle hand on the Omega assassin. “All clear. We need you to get him to the extraction point. Allura’s got the body of the one that got him.”

Keith hadn’t even noticed it was gone. But he had a new mission objective. Get his mate to safety. He shoved both weapons – Lance’s and the mercenary’s – into Pidge’s hands, and picked his mate up in a bridal carry, racing to the extraction point. Shiro was in the pilot’s seat of their VTOL, a specially built, modular one the Coalition named Atlas. Hunk and Allura were already onboard, Pidge bringing up the rear behind Keith. Allura rushed to help the Omega assassin. The limited medical supplies on the Atlas wouldn’t save Lance in the long run, but it was enough to get him back to base.

The Coalition Rebellion’s base was hidden within a high-rise owned by shell companies belonging to the financial backers of the rebellion. The three biggest supporters were Olkarion BioTech, owned and run by Claudia Ryner, a thin middle-aged woman who could flip between hard-ass CEO and a gentle maternal figure in a split second, Taujeer Chemicals, owned and run by a man only known as Baujal who never showed his face and always used a voice modulator, and The Garrison, manufacturers of weapons, armor, and vehicles, owned and nominally run by Ellen Sanda and more practically run by Cmdr. Iverson. They all wanted the megacorporation that ran the world, Daibazaal Industries, gone as much as everyone else.

The Atlas landed on the grounds of the Rebellion base, known only to the Coalition as the Castle of Lions. Medics were waiting to rush Lance to the medical floors, leaving Keith on the landing pad feeling like his soul had been ripped from his body. The rest of the Voltron Pack surrounded him protectively, and the worry, panic, and fear he’d kept carefully bottled up overwhelmed him and he dropped to the asphalt.

When the assassin woke, he was in a med floor bed. Pidge had set up a work station in the room, the weapon and punctured armor of the mercenary being run through her meticulous scanners. Hunk tinkered with Shiro’s cybernetic arm while Allura paced like a caged tiger. Keith sat up, a wave of dizziness making him lay down again. It got the attention of everyone in the room. Pidge adjusted the bed’s position remotely, allowing Keith to sit up without falling over. They were all at his side immediately.

“Surgery was successful,” Allura told him, “Lance will make a full recovery. He’s still out, and they want him in a completely neutral environment. The only medics allowed in are Betas.”

“I can’t see him?” Keith asked, worry and panic clouding his scent again.

“Not yet,” Shiro said, “He still needs to heal, and you know that pheromones can interrupt that process. Even a bonded mate’s.”

“I could probably get in, check up on him for you,” Pidge offered. There were few cases like Pidge where, even if the corporate-run nanny state hadn’t mandated sterilization for all Betas, she would most likely have done it anyway. The benefit in this case was that she was less likely to upset Lance’s healing.

“Please?” The Omega couldn’t keep the whining cry for his mate out of his voice.

Pidge nodded, placing a small hand on his arm.

“Oh!” Hunk said, darting over to the other side of the room. He came back with a high stack of blankets and pillows. “The medics don’t want you moving around much yet, but we figured you’d feel better with at least a small nest.” He went back, returning with another blanket in a sealed bag. “I went and got this one from your room.”

Keith didn’t need elaboration. He instinctively snatched the bag from Hunk’s hands, holding it close. They were his pack, and fully understood the state he was in. Pidge queued further processes for her scanners and left to check on Lance. Hunk went with her, as he was the only other Beta in the pack and could back her up when they got there. Shiro and Allura were the pack’s other Alphas, and while they wanted to see their packmate safe, they knew they couldn’t be near Lance. They could, however, ensure the safety of their pack’s Omega, and so stayed with him, only assisting with the nest when it was asked for.

Even with limited nesting materials, Keith still was able to build one that made him feel more secure, the soft fluffy blanket from the nest he shared only with his mate adding to the security. The shrill, distressed trill coming from him died down only when he fell asleep, wrapped in his mate’s scent and knowing that his pack’s two other Alphas were nearby.

When Keith woke next, Hunk and Pidge were back. He shot up in his nest, a soft questioning noise rolling up his throat.

“He’s doing better,” Pidge answered. She turned around. “It’s been about six hours since we left to check on him. They said that you can probably see him tomorrow morning, which is in,” she checked the time, “About four hours.”

“You should eat and rest,” Allura suggested softly. “If you’re exhausted and upset when you see him, it could make things worse.”

Keith knew she was right, but it didn’t make it better. He wanted his mate, his Alpha. He’d had to watch when he was shot, when he fell to the floor, had to watch as his beloved Alpha desperately clung to life. He wanted them to curl up in their nest together, safe in each other’s arms. The memories caused another distressed sound, this one harsher, even more shrill than before. The pack snapped to look at him, knowing that if Keith got any more worked up, he could go feral. It was a state more closely associated with Alphas, but it was certainly possible for Omegas. The kind of trauma he’d experienced that day combined with being separated from his mate was making things dangerous for him. Pidge dropped what she was doing, climbing into the nest. She was a packmate and therefore safe, but she was about as far removed from anything like Lance as possible and, therefore, was the safest person to be close to Keith. He curled up, still upset, but allowed her to hold him, reinforcing that he was safe.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep again.

He was woken next by Pidge gently shaking him, breakfast in hand. He accepted it, a soft sound escaping, his Omega brain still in control. After breakfast, that Pidge actually joined him in his nest for, she called for a medic, who came in and checked Keith over, clearing him for release. Pidge stuck close to him, going along to the next floor where Lance was still under medics’ care. But he was awake, and Keith darted inside, Pidge staying by the door.

The Omega curled up on his mate’s bed, softly nuzzling him. Lance ran his fingers through his mate’s hair, a large medical patch monitoring his biorhythms across the back of his hand. After a few minutes when Keith still hadn’t said anything he looked to Pidge, concern and confusion written across his face.

“He nearly went feral last night. Hasn’t spoken a word since then,” she explained.

The medics tried to make Keith leave when they were alerted to Lance’s shifts in his system caused by the sudden fear for his mate, but the Alpha insisted on his Omega staying. Pidge left, knowing Alpha-Omega mate-pairs in general and her packmates in particular. She knew how important their connection was and that if they were separated both would most likely turn feral, attacking anyone who got too close that wasn’t their mate. Shiro and Allura stood guard over the room from the outside, preventing anyone from entering they didn’t approve. One nurse claimed that she was just there to check up on Lance, but her scent told them she was lying and that she was most likely there to try and separate the pair again. Shiro’s tall, broad frame firmly kept her out. Pidge and Hunk had brought the nesting materials from both Keith’s hospital room and their own apartment in the Castle. Lance’s biorhythm readings were calmer than the medics had seen, and they stopped bothering him and his mate.

It wasn’t until the end of the day when Keith finally spoke for the first time. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“For a while, so did I,” Lance admitted, “But you got me out in time. You saved me, mi amor. We’re ok.”

Curled up in their temporary nest, wrapped in his Alpha’s arms, long, elegant fingers carding through his hair, Keith was able to sleep peacefully for the first time since the start of the mission.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19* | 20* | 21* | 22*

[akaashisupremacy]

Just a Holidate

Summary: You and Kuroo agree to be holidates. What could possibly go wrong? 

Notes: The Usher karaoke scene is inspired by @sugardaddykenma ‘s hq x usher confession album post  which you desperately need to check out. In general, I love to write for Kuroo. Check out another fic here and my Masterlist. 

Kuroo  x reader  

genre: Christmas fluff, angst, a sprinkling of crack, ficlet  (wc: 1.2 k)

“What are you doing on the godforsaken app?!” Kuroo Tetsuro peers over your shoulder, bending down to look at your phone.

“I’m aggressively swiping for a holidate,” you scowl. Dating apps are self-explanatory enough, “And there are not enough available people with cars.”

“That’s rather materialistic of you.” he comments, straightening up his back.

Both of you have just finished a coffee get-together with some friends from your middle school, the first of many holiday engagements to come. Many of you went off to separate high schools but still kept in touch.

“Tetsuro, I’m here for holiday fun,” you roll your eyes, “I’m not looking for a life partner with outstanding moral character.”

A snicker escapes him. Sounds fair.

“What’s your radius?” He asks curiously.

“5 miles I think.” You shrug.

“If you make it 7, I have a car.” He smirks.

——————————————

“I can’t believe I took you up on your offer,” you say incredulously, “And that you’re requiring me to go to your parties too.”

The first of your holiday parties is actually not yours, but Kuroo’s instead. In the interest of fairness, he insisted you have to go to his engagements as well.

“It’s called a two-way street.” He tuts, locking up his car.  

Kuroo picked you up earlier this evening to go to a karaoke reunion with his old team mates from Nekoma. As you walk to karaoke place, you bring up an old memory.

“Every time I think about you and karaoke, I remember the time where you and Yaku serenaded a girl with an unsolicited Usher song with the rest of the volleyball team as your backup singers.” you chuckle.

“Wait—who told you about that?” His face glows bright red. It’s unusual to see Kuroo caught off guard. “I was black out drunk and it was on a dare, okay?!”

You wiggle your fingers, “It’s a secret.”

The receptionist leads you to the reserved room. The room is dark, lit only by brightly colored blue and green lights. The wall paper looks like it was designed by someone on hallucinogens. You turn to him with a questioning gaze.

“Don’t look at me. This was Yaku’s idea.” he raises his brow.

He quickly introduces you to his friends before they hand you the list of available songs and the remote control.

“If you want to sing, we can queue something for you.” he mindlessly browses.

An idea goes off your head. When he stands up to  order for some drinks, you quickly queue a surprise in a few minutes.

“Who queued Simple Things by Usher?” calls out Tora. You see Kuroo’s ears perk up from across the room and his eyes widen in a mix of alarm and amusement as the opening notes play.

“It’s Kuroo’s song!” you call out in reply, “Can you hand him the mic?”

Tora shoves him the mic. The Nekoma team start to cheer in anticipation. He  glare at you mischievously grin and give him a thumbs up from your seat.

He slowly grabs the mic and mouths, “I’m getting you back for this...”

————————————————

Despite not having gotten over the trauma from his Usher karaoke, Kuroo still insists on having you come as his date. You admire him for his persistency.

He’s not terrible by any standard. He’s even kind of fun, so even though you’d rather stay home some night, you never really regret having gone out with him.

“Kenma’s place, 8 pm, drinks and Cards Against Humanity.” he calls one evening, “It’s kind of last minute, but can you make it?”

Kuroo calls out of the blue. It’s 9 am on a Saturday morning.

“Probably not, I’m going to decorate my apartment.” you reply, untangling some lights with one hand. He hears the shuffling over the phone.

“But it’s so close to the holidays?” he asks, somewhat confused as to why you’d choose to decorate so late into the season.

“It’s mostly just lights,” you sigh, “I didn’t have the money to buy them earlier this month so I only got them now. This is important to me, Tetsuro. My parents used to never allow me to decorate their house. Now that I have my own place and time, I wanna do this.”

When you are met with silence, you become defensive, “I knew you wouldn’t under—“

“If I come help, can you go?” he interjects.

In less than half an hour, he quietly gets to work untangling and hanging your lights. He even goes back into his car to get his toolbox and some supplies.

Kuroo is so silent when he’s concentrating you’re a little freaked out.

“You’ve changed, Kuroo.” you murmur, “High school you would've been making hot takes and calling me chibi-chan, but you’re actually doing something nice for me.”

“I like to think I’ve matured since then.” he raises a brow at you.

He twists some hooks onto the surface and you hammer some nails on the other end of the same wall.

“You’re really into this holidate thing,” you comment, “Didn’t think you’d be so extra, but thanks for helping me out.”

“No problem,” he utters, eyes glued to his work, “I’m just tired of showing up alone. Most of the guys are in long-term relationships and I’m still extremely single.”

“But why are you being so extra? Is it really the single-ness?”

He glances at you and rolls his shoulders back.

“‘I've always thought you were kinda cute…and spunky…and really nice. Even if sometimes I’d annoy you, you’d still help me out when we were in junior high. Do you remember that?” he tilts his head, “Which I guess peaks to as you put it, your great moral character…I guess I just wanted to see if you still live up to that image of you I’ve built up in my head.”

You let out a small laugh.

“Do I?”

Without skipping a beat, he clears his throat and replies “Yeah, you’re even better than I thought you’d be.” You’re surprised by the lack of his usual bravado. He almost seems…shy.

“So you’re to debunk your middle school crush on me basically.”

“Among other things,” he smirks, “I like spending time with you though. I like who I am when I’m with you.” A small smile wipes the smirk off his face. A certain vulnerability permeates his tone.

“Okay, I think this is it.” He steps back from his handiwork and hands you the plug.

“Go ahead. See if it works.”

You plug the lights in and your apartment is aglow of fairy lights. A hush falls between the two of you, both at a loss words. Your apartment even looks better than it was in your head.

“Not bad,” he nods in approval.

You slowly turn to him.

“Thanks, Tetsuro, this is the best present ever.” you beam at him, before turning back to your handiwork.

He feels unexpectedly moved by your reaction. He mumbles a “no problem” and stands a little closer to you.

“You’re not so bad a holidate yourself. I might actually miss this when the holidays are over.” you chuckle.

Kuroo wants to reach out behind your shoulders but stops himself. He is harshly reminded that he’s a temporary companion. As he watches your face by warm yellowish lights, he takes in each detail of your features.

In case things could somehow miraculously work out, he wants to remember this night as the night he fell for you. But until that happens, he readies his heart to be broken because he’s just a holidate after all.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan @kaizumi @holaaaf @glxar

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! :D 

[etherealino]

mixtape: on track – scb

synopsis: “i can’t let you go, how can i ever let you go?” 

genre: idolverse!au, post breakup!au, radio dj!reader, angst, fluff uwu

warning(s): one curse word. changbin went ooc, oops.

word count: 3423

a/n: i had this plot since forever and when mixtape: on track was released, i realized it fit changbin so well. djbdjsdj,,,,,, hope this doesn’t suck :]

“First song of tonight, my people, Song Request by Lee So Ra, featuring BTS’ Suga. Just send in your requests, problems or if you just wanna say hi, just mention me, @/sleeplessy/n.” You said through the microphone and you lowered the volume of the microphone, muting it as the song played through the whole station—in every radio, that is.

Every night, all you did was talk about everything that comes into your mind—you’re good at it, actually. Plus, to everyone seeking advice comes to you, one of the reasons why you can’t lose topics to talk about. That was your job. From 11 pm to 3 am, for four hours that’s what you do.

This was your job ever since you broke up with your boyfriend of 2 years. Your boyfriend was none other than Seo Changbin of Stray Kids. You two were so happy, you were sure of it. Changbin was making you happy, you were making him happy. You knew you two were drifting apart when fights became a sudden routine every night, shouting until voices get hoarse. Then just this one night, Changbin came home, he picked a fight with you probably due to how stressed he is and he took it out on you. You two were on each other’s throats once more, when suddenly you shouted, “You know what? Let’s just break up. It’s best for the both of us.” You know you should’ve took it back when you saw Changbin’s expression fall, but then he glared at you again, but you still saw the tears pooling in his eyes, even though he shouted back, “Fine! I’ll pick my stuff up tomorrow.” Then, just like that, he left.

And ever since then, you can’t sleep properly. So you thought, it would be nice to look for a job instead of stressing over on how to sleep. And here you are, Sleepless Night with Y/N from 11 pm to 3 am—you became everyone’s favorite DJ in just a snap of a finger, it’s crazy when you think about it. You always loved the idea of being a radio DJ, if you were being honest. It’s been two months since you and Changbin broke up, and ever since then, you never listened to Stray Kids anymore, knowing you would just end up going to YouTube and binge his videos and fancams all day long—then cry.

You heard that Stray Kids have been having soft concepts lately, different from their usual concepts, and sometimes—a lot of times—Stray Kids’ songs were everyone’s requests, but you pretended not to see. Stray Kids would always have a guesting in your station, and you knowing the schedule would not go to the time allotted for them to avoid seeing Changbin. It’s been two months, but you were still undeniably hung up on Changbin. Everyone could see right through you.

“Once again, people, that was Song Request by Lee So Ra, featuring BTS’ Suga. How have you guys been? Still can’t sleep according to your tweets.” You said as you let out a small chuckle. You scrolled through the computer in front of you, looking at the tweets that were sent in as you talked about nonsense. “Shout out to some users that says they want to be in a relationship asap. Take your time, my people, savor it while it lasts instead of rushing, hm?”

Truth be told, you were looking for a certain user. This user would always say hi, giving you an update on what happened in their day. It would always end with, “How was your day? :)”. They would always tweet something that cheers you up. They would just randomly tweet you heart memes, even at daytime. Weird enough, even though you followed this user, they never sent you a dm. There was this weird feeling at the pit of your stomach that wants you to send them a message, but you also didn’t want to. So, you let it be. 

Weird enough, they never sent anything today. You frowned, going to their profile, refreshing the page but nothing. It’s crazy when you think about it, missing someone you never met at all. But there was just something about this user that gravitates you towards them.

 You didn’t even notice at all until your phone silently went off, vibrating, serving as a signal that it was already 2:30 in the morning. You have 30 minutes to wrap up the show. You always have that alarm or else, you will get carried away and you don’t want to ruin the schedule. “Time check, it’s now 2:30 in the morning, my people, send in your problems and I will try my best to give you the best advice I can.” You announced. Your Twitter blew up and you scrolled and scrolled. You went back up, refreshing your notifications. And finally, your favorite user has sent you a tweet. But it was different from their usual tweets. “From user sleeplesscb,” you announced. It was honestly unusual, they never send in a problem to ask for an advice, so you were kind of worried for them. “Hi, DJ Y/N, I used to have a girlfriend, she really means a lot to me. It’s been awhile since we broke up but I can’t seem to let her go. I really wish I could turn back time to take everything back so we would still be together.” You read. You sighed, biting your lip. “Well, user, if you really do love her, let her know. If you’re lucky, she might feel the same way as you. Tell her how you feel, make her feel loved and do everything you think you should do before you regret it.”

What if this is Changbin and he wants to—

 You pushed the thought away, shaking your head as you bit your lip. It couldn’t be Changbin—it’s impossible. Changbin’s too busy for stuff like this. More importantly, Changbin would never feel that way. You just have to accept that your once shared love with Changbin is just now one-sided.

 “If you end up really doing what I just said and doesn’t end good, you can hunt me and shoot me down.” You chuckled as you refreshed the page once more and you saw that the user sent another tweet saying, “Can you play Mixtape: On Track by Stray Kids? Heard that the group’s rapper, Changbin wrote it and it’s how I feel.” You bit your lip. Are you ready? You inwardly sigh, giving yourself a nod. Just this once, for them. “Since it was your problem that I gave advice, I suppose I can grant your request.” You announced, searching the song to play it. You took a deep breath before announcing, “Here’s Mixtape: On Track by Stray Kids.” 

Even a fool knows this, you’re the best thing I’ve got.

Just that line. That single line was enough to make tears pool in your eyes. Changbin’s voice went through the whole station and you muted the microphone again to prevent any noises to be heard—your sniffles, to be specific. You listened to the whole song. Just like what you expected, Stray Kids are still great—greater, even. But the fact that Changbin wrote this song made your heart flutter. He probably wrote it after your breakup, but you refused to listen. Funny how the universe just finds way to make you do what you’re supposed to, even if you’re against it. Did he actually write this for you or he just got an inspiration out of it? You don’t know, but it feels nice to hear the boys again—Changbin, especially.

 You feel like jumping and throwing the things around you when Changbin’s part, “I can’t let you go.” came. You wanted to scream. You felt that. Changbin put so much emotion into this song, more tears streamed down your face and you sighed. Then it was followed by Felix repeating it. Then another line from Changbin, “How can I ever let you go?”

“Yeah, how could you?” You whispered as you aggressively wiping your cheeks as if you were actually talking to Changbin. By the last line, it was Changbin again, he changed the first line to “I know it because I’m a fool and can’t live without you.”

You really wished he really did write it for you. You wanted him back more than anything. How could you be so stupid to yell those words that led to your breakup?

When the song was finally done, you finally turned the microphone on.  “And that’s it for today’s show everyone. I feel like I was a little bit boring today, it was tiring today after all. I promise to make it up to you tomorrow!” You said through the microphone and to your surprise you actually sound stable as if you weren’t a crying mess just before. “Time check, 2:55 in the morning, may you finally sleep in peace after a whole night of soft love songs. Tune in again tomorrow—or later tonight, rather for more advices, blabbering about whatnots, and songs to play for your situations as cheesy as that sounds. This is DJ Y/N, signing off, leaving you with Day6’s I Smile. Good night, everybody.”

And just as you said, she played Day6’s I Smile and queued more songs that are enough until the next program which would be at 8 am. You turned the microphone off, removing the headphones off your head as you neatly placed it to where it belongs. You went out of the studio room, the radio producer smiling at you. You closed the door behind as you went to pick your bag and coat. “I’ll see you tonight.” You said to her and she smiles.

“You did great today, just like always.” She said with a smile and you bowed, thanking her for the compliment. “Stay safe, take care driving.”

“Yes, stay safe, too.” You said as you waved bye to her. You exited the building of your radio station, going to the parking lot, ready to go home. You climbed in, starting the engine on as you decided to listen to the songs you’ve queued. The drive home was peaceful. City lights and soft music as you drive at the middle of the night; just your aesthetic, this was what you used to do with Changbin. Yes, Changbin was still at the back your head. You really wanted to know if it was for you. But other than that, you wanted to know how is he doing. Did he go through the same as you did? Was he better now? How is he? Did he find another person to finally replace you?

As you arrived home, a soft sigh escapes your lips. Why were you thinking about Changbin again? Oh, because that’s what you always think of every night. Can he sleep peacefully every night unlike you? Can he move around without thinking about you? Does he listen to your program every night?

Anyway, you got off your car with your coat and bag as you arrived in front of your house. Head down as you fiddled with your keys, walking up to your doorstep. You sigh. You were tired, but you were not sleepy. You have this tendency to be a bit clumsy when tired. So, as you were walking to your doorstep, you dropped your keys. You sigh loudly, bending down, sitting on the back of your legs to pick it up.

But someone has beat you to it.

You looked at the shoes in front of you, freezing. His scent finally filled your nostrils, his hand that was holding your keys out for you, the oversized black hoodie. You’d know those anywhere, everywhere. You bit your lip, looking up at the person to confirm if it really was him. And it was. You don’t need any confirmation to know it was him. Just his scent alone was enough to prove that it was him.

You shakily grabbed your keys, standing up as you look into his eyes.

Was it really him? Or did everything got into your head that it led you into imagining things?

He breathed out as if he was nervous, then he spoke, stuttering, “H-Hi.”

It really is him. It’s Changbin. 

“What are you doing here?” You mumbled, not being able to properly process what’s happening. Why is he here? Is he here to get the shirt he forgot to take with him? Psh.

Changbin clears his throat, looking at the ground then up to you. “The DJ in the radio said, I..” Changbin trails off as he tries to find the right words. “I should tell you how I really feel about you, and.. I..” Changbin trails off once more, being really nervous as he avoids your eyes.

Woah, wait. 

Your eyes widen as you look at Changbin. “That user was you?” 

Changbin looks up, nodding as he says nothing. You bit your lip, but a soft chuckle escapes your lips. That’s why you keep on gravitating towards the user. Seriously, how does the universe does that? You looked at Changbin who was looking down as he breathed out, trying to find the courage to speak up to you.

“Fuck it.” Changbin whispers to himself then turns to look in your eyes. Then he started to speak, “Firstly, I’m sorry for taking all the stress out to you every night when we were still together. It was really shitty of me to do that. I’m sorry I wasted the chance you gave me. I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’m sorry for failing your expectations on me. I’m sorry I never became the man who you wanted. I’m just.. sorry for being shitty at showing you how much you mean to me. You should have someone who would love you the way the universe wants you to be loved—the way you deserve.

“I’m in a very big risk right now—we are in a big risk right now. Anyone could be somewhere here, take pictures of us and expose us, but I don’t care. But if ever we get into trouble because of it, I will protect you even if I’m at risk. I just want to let you know what I’ve been hiding for the past two months. It was eating me up. I was just happy on making you smile through the memes I send, through the little messages I sent, but I craved for more, Y/N. I want you back.

“I was in love with you. We were happy but we suddenly drifted apart because of me and my stupid pride. I knew better than that, but still I picked a fight with you almost every night when all you did was try to calm my nerves. I shouldn’t have let it get that far for you to yell those words. Up until now, Y/N, I’m still in love with you. You’re always here. You’re a part of me, Y/N. Every minute of every hour, you’re all that I think about. It bothers me to think that what if you already found someone else. Every time you giggle through the radio because of my messages, I regret my actions of letting you go just like that even more. I love you, Y/N. I still do.”

Changbin finishes with nervousness swimming in his eyes as he looked at you, but you only blankly stared at him. He knows that look. You’re not interested anymore, he thinks, but he was so wrong. He’s the only thing you wanted, nothing else.

“Before anything else, I know you haven’t been listening to our songs, considering you never played any of our songs despite a lot has requested and it’s impossible for you not to see it. But what I’m trying to say is, the song I requested was written for you.” Changbin says as he nods as if he was approving into his words, thinking he said the right words. He looks at you, who still blankly looked at him. “You.. can hit me now.”

“I can’t believe it was you.” You mumbled as you looked down, then to your side—everywhere but Changbin. Changbin chuckles nervously.

“I thought you were going to find out since I put my initials at the end.” Changbin said. Right. The ‘scb’ in the end. You were a bit oblivious to things. Okay, you just didn’t want to get your hopes high.

“How’d you know I have a radio program every night?” You asked as you look at him.

Changbin shrugs, looking at the ground. “Stress was getting into me, so I went out to get a bit of fresh air. Drove into the city in the middle of the night, around 1 in the morning, just like we used to. I turned the radio on and then I Loved You by Day6 was playing. I decided to stay on that station for a bit because it was one of your favorites. And then, I heard your voice.” Changbin explains. He looks at you, biting his lower lip, then he softly adds. “You know I know your voice anywhere—everywhere.”

You lick your lips, looking at the side. You shake your head lightly as you feel tears pool in your eyes. “I hate you.” You mumbled, just as the tears have cascaded down your face. Changbin looks at you, lowering his head as if he was ashamed.

“I know.” Changbin mumbles back.

“I hate you for making me love you so much. Why is it so much easier to love you than hating you? Up until now, it still feels like the first day when we broke up.” You said, wiping your tears off. Changbin holds himself from reaching out to pull you in his arms.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” Changbin apologizes and he looks into your eyes. “I’d do anything for you to forgive me, I really will.”

You cock your head to the side lightly, raising an eyebrow. “Anything?” You repeated, asking with emphasis. Changbin nods as he looks at the ground, not being able to say anything knowing where would this lead to. He can seriously imagine you saying ‘Never show up to me ever again.’ He was so scared, but if it would make you happy, he’ll do it. 

“Stay with me.”

Changbin’s head snaps up, eyes looking into your tear-filled ones. Stay with you? Didn’t you hate him? “Objections? Hey, let me tell you, I got this job because I didn’t want to dwell into stressing myself because I can’t sleep. So I said, why make a job out of it. You know why I can’t sleep?” You said and Changbin shakes his head. “Because I can only properly sleep with you beside me. You owe me two months of peaceful sleep!” You pouted as you told Changbin these things. Changbin couldn’t help but chuckle, smiling at how you suddenly turned cute. “Stay with me, Changbin. Please.”

Changbin cautiously takes a step, and when you don’t take a step back, he takes this a sign that he can pull you in his arms for a hug. So, he did. Changbin wrap his arms around your shoulders as you wrap your own around his torso. You laugh lightly through your sniffles, finally feeling complete after two months. Changbin kisses your temple, keeping his lips there as you tighten your grip on him. 

“Every night, if you want.” Changbin mumbles.

After two months, you finally slept properly and peacefully again. When you woke up, Changbin was already awake, playing with your hair with a wide smile on his face, giving you a kiss on your nose, forehead, cheeks and finally on your lips. You two were back and you were sure that you two are stronger this time. The universe really does have a funny way to make things right again. And as you are working, talking about the most random things, your eyes shift outside the studio where the waiting room is, you see Changbin watching you with a smile on his face. He gives you a wink, lightly raising his fist, mouthing, “Fighting! I love you.”

“A great person just told me that you deserve to be loved the way the universe wants you to be, so don’t rush into anything, the right person is just there.” You said through the microphone with a wide smile.

You mouthed back, “I love you, too.”

sksks when changbin sang that did you feel that? i cant relate and i felt that.

[doctorreids]

folklore - spencer reid x reader

CHAPTER TWO - cardigan 

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summary: reader reflects upon her first time with spencer, upon the loss of her father and whether or not she did enough to save their relationship. 

warnings: death/loss of a loved one.

word count: 2,494

“sequinned smile, black lipstick, sensual politics. when you are young they assume you know nothing.”

This case hit the team particularly hard. Child abductions could either end with a happy ending or… This one was not one of those times. She was sure Reid had a statistic but they were all too exhausted to even keep their eyes open on the jet. The air was somber and tense - everyone feeling all too guilty to indulge in any kind of conversation.

By the time the plane had landed, none of them had slept and it was completely dark outside. She knew she needed a drink and a strong one at that. Reid had sat by her the entire flight home, she noticed how he could barely focus on his book in front of him, his shoulders completely tense. The 20,000 words per minute was slashed to 10 minutes. She hated yet understood that they all felt guilty, but there was always a special sadness in her when Reid was upset. He was the one negotiating, all that weight fell on his shoulders and she just wanted to hold him and tell him that everything will be okay.

They all filtered into the office, Reid following sluggishly behind her. This was routine now, having only been at the bureau for just shy of a year, she had learnt how everyone took their coffee or tea, what time they all headed home with Hotch and Reid being the last out of the doors. She’d become accustomed to joining them in burning the late-night oil.

Reid didn’t even spare a glance at the kitchen as he sat down at his desk, a frown etched onto his face. She just wanted him to smile.

Making his coffee was second nature to her now; she knew exactly how much sugar he took depending on how he was feeling. Smiling to herself, she placed his mug on his desk and as he glanced up she walked back to her own desk to start working on the post-case paperwork and other cases she’d been asked to consult on.

She didn’t see it but he smiled. Only slightly but he did.

A few hours passed when she was finishing up her last file when a note was dropped onto her desk as Reid walked past her desk.

'Would you like to get a drink at Dan’s tonight? - S’

Grinning, she packed up all her files into her go-bag, grabbed her coffee cup and jacket meeting him in the kitchen. Silent words were exchanged as they met each other’s eyes, walking in sync towards the elevator.

“Didn’t take you for a Dan’s person, pretty boy.”

He blushed at the nickname, she rarely used it. “I-i just thought you could use a bit of respite is all.”

“We both could.” She giggled, nudging him with her shoulder. “You barely read your book on the way home and you couldn’t concentrate on your files, is everything okay?

She didn’t want to push him into talking to her, he would talk when he felt comfortable. However, his silence after her question and his eyes trained on the pavement made her nervous.

“N-not that you have to tell me! I just worry about you.”

His head snaps up. He meets her eyes with a slight smile.

“All I know is that I’m okay when I’m with you.”

After nursing a few drinks between them, despite both of them knowing they were lightweights, they stumbled out of Dan’s and into a cool January night. Pressed up against a streetlight, she grabbed onto the lapels of his suit jacket.

They’d spent the night talking about the case. How much she saw herself in the kids that were abducted. How he felt as though he had let everyone down. Her heart broke at his vulnerability.

Their noses were so close, she could feel his hot breath fan across her face; the smell of whiskey and wine mixed together. On a cold, winter night, they were each other’s warmth. Taking him in under the dim, amber streetlight she traced his features as if it was the last time she would ever see him, ever hold him, ever be this close to him.

His hair was short yet long, he was growing it out. She liked it either way. She’d have him anyway just as long as he was hers.

His eyes bore into hers, occasionally flickering down to her lips, filled with the same yearning and desperation she felt herself filled with.

His lips. She watched as he swiped his tongue across them. Suddenly she was sixteen again at homecoming waiting for that first perfect kiss.

In his embrace, she felt whole. No feeling of loneliness nor was this just pure lust. That underlying promise of something more made her stomach sink. She tried to figure out what was going on in his head.

“Penny for your thoughts?” She laughed.

They pulled back from a moment, the intimacy of their embrace broken.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nodded.

Their lips connected and winter disappeared. It was sweet, his lips soft against hers. Her hand rested on the nape of his neck, his on her hips pulling her into him. Moving together, they were intoxicated by each other. She could now taste the whiskey on his tongue, each of her senses was consumed with Spencer. Just Spencer. Running her hands through his hair, she doesn’t want to let go.

Their lips parted, the cold breeze cut between them. Giddy smiles graced before their faces as he brushed her hair out of her face. A mutual understanding that they need each other, unspoken they know how much they do. She’d never needed someone as much as she needed him.

She tries to calm her breathing, her heart beating so fast it might burst out of her chest, as they walk wrapped in each other back to his apartment. His hand rests on her hip, rubbing small circles into it as they walk home. She had never seen him as brave as he was tonight.

Yet nervousness surrounded them both. They were so young, they knew so little but so much about the other.

She wanted everything.

“when i felt like an old cardigan under someone’s bed, you put me on and said i was your favourite.”

The note he wrote all that time ago is tattered now and she toys with it. She’s kept all of the notes he’s passed her since her first day at the Bureau. She knew that he would profile her, it’s why he left the notes.

She knew that he understood that she sometimes needed a reason to smile, that he wanted to make her laugh and to make their working days just that little bit easier.

She wonders if he ever kept her responses.

The warmth of his cardigans that she used to wrap around herself when they queued up a new documentary on Netflix or when they watched an episode of Doctor Who together always reminded her of the warmth between them that first night they shared together.

Curling up further in her leather armchair, she tries to recall his touch. Trying to remember how his hands felt as they brushed her inner thighs, on the small of her back, or the place where she needed them most. She can’t remember where he used to hold her but she remembers how it made her feel.

Even on her worst days, the days were the grief, frustration and sadness were all too much, his embrace made her feel as though he was the sun; the centre to her universe and she was a whole galaxy of stars passing through. Old wounds healed and winter turned to spring in his arms.

But even that feeling has started to fade as his eyes no longer look at her as though she lightens up the night sky, now they just look through her.

It’s hard for her to pinpoint the exact moment things went wrong. Maybe they just left their rose-coloured glasses on for too long to avoid the reality that everything was collapsing around them.

The pain she held in heart, all the times she felt used or abandoned, became non-existent in his presence. The pure happiness he brought her she finds hard to describe; he reminded her of hot chocolate on an autumn night, but he also reminded her of the hot sun beating down on your back as you lie on the beach with nothing but the sound of gentle waves to keep you company.

She wonders if she ever brought him the same happiness he did for her?

It keeps her up at night. All the questions. What did she do right? What did she do wrong? Can it be fixed? But she reminds herself that it’s been months, if fate wanted them together she’d still be waking up on the other side of town to the smell of coffee and Beethoven.

“you drew stars around all my scars, but now i’m bleeding.”

The monitor flatlined, piercing through the silence of the blisteringly white, pristine hospital room.

She knew that she would lose him eventually. Just not like this.

This was her father - the one constant in her life since she lost her mother. He was her closest friend, confidant and companion. He taught everything she knows about life, love and good food. She needed more time. She was only young, she even believed their assumptions that she knew nothing and this was proof.

Finally, she allowed herself to weep. Hopeless tears rolled down her cheeks as Spencer wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. Her head pressed against where his heart lay in his chest. Even his heartbeat couldn’t calm her down.

Too weak to carry herself, the doctor’s words to her barely registered to her. All she knew was that it wasn’t painful, he didn’t suffer. Her father was finally at peace.

That provided her no comfort in that moment.

She can’t recall the week leading up to the funeral. Every day felt as though she was outside of herself, watching everything else happen. She felt numb, frozen in one place, and unable to move. People tackle grief in different ways, she knows the stages, yet she never felt herself go through any of them. She was completely and utterly disembodied by grief.

She listened to the kind words at the wake, at the funeral. She tried to remember them all but all she could think about was Spencer’s hand in hers. His gentle squeezes brought her back down to earth, out of the turmoil in her mind.

She thinks about how her Dad told him to take care of her. She remembers overhearing a conversation about blessings but she let that go a long time ago, they were too young for marriage her father would always joke.

She knew he was trying to be there for her as much as he could be, he couldn’t take time off of work to provide her with the support she needed. All he could do was call, check in as often as he could. The distance only made her heart shatter more and more. He didn’t urge her to talk about how she was feeling, he knew it would come in time but she all she wanted was that embrace. She wanted to feel his hands lightly trace her skin, the feeling alone mended the scars on her heart. But he wasn’t there.

“i knew you, tried to change the ending, peter losing wendy.”

She didn’t blame him for not being there. Work was as demanding as ever, that was the excuse time and time again. Then again, they were both not ones for sharing their feelings - she knew that he agreed with her when it came to spilling their souls. Sometimes it felt as though they were burdening each other with the weight they both held on their shoulders. Despite all the instances where they told each other that they would be there for it all, they still held back.

She didn’t know how to trust him with it.

He didn’t know how to express how scared he really was.

Their love was reminiscent of first love; full of childlike wonder, hope, and open to the world and its seasons.

But everyone grows up. Everyone is faced with the reality of life. Things come to end, there is suffering and there is happiness - everyone, whether you believe it or not, is in the hands of fate.

She laughed at the thought of Spencer believing in fate, he was a man of science after all. She believed that it was fate that they met that day, that they fell in love. She always will but she wonders if it was fate that pulled them apart or just a set of cruel circumstances and their fears of vulnerability.

The loss of her father impacted her in ways she struggled to comprehend herself. Her heart started to come apart that day, the cracks starting to show.

She loved her father, she was grateful for all he did. Her mother passed when she was 7 and her father never faltered. He taught her all she needed to know about love, about who to love, and who to let go. She didn’t know who to be without him. She had so much more to share with him.

She needed Spencer there and he wasn’t. Somedays he was so quiet she wondered if he had left his or her apartment. He never made her a cup of tea when the jet landed late, he never left her any notes, he never touched her anymore.

She tried to convince herself that she had done all that she could to try and save the sinking ship that was their relationship; cooking his favourite meals, bookshop dates, movie dates, long walks whenever they could. She tried talking to him, to try and get him to tell her how he felt but he shut it down. She knew it was easy to point fingers and place the blame on him for the end of their relationship but it’s not that simple. Maybe she stopped paying attention to everything he said, maybe she was too closed off, maybe she missed the signs. Maybe she clung onto him too much or maybe she left him alone too often.

For now, the loss is too much. From her father to her love, it crushes her. Each glass of wine provides her with the liquid courage to press that call button. But each time she reaches for it, she retracts and her nerves kick in.

Letting go is easier said than done, but all she needs right at this very moment is his embrace. Maybe just one more glass. Maybe then she’d call and he’d come back to her.