#what if she writes smt else

[witcheshollow]

I love that we have all collectively decided that Jeremys French tutor is going to be suspicious. We literally know nothing abt this person, but bc theyre Not Jean teaching Jeremy French they earned immediate suspicion

[athenalvss]

Wally west X batsis!reader please 🙏😩

Maybe where she's looking hot asf at a party Bruce is holding in the wayne manor ball room and all the JL and young justice and teen titans are they and someone's flirting with reader and he realises he needs to swoop in real fast. Dick, Roy, Jason, Kyle and Donna are his biggest wingmen

NERVOUS

summary: Wally is madly in love with you, but he's scared of you and your dad, but his friends try not to let that stop him.

pairing: Wally west x batsis!reader

part one- part two

note: idk what I did lol I tried to write smt cute but idk what happened to me. AND officially Wally west has a masterlist

open request - wally west masterlist

The crystal chandeliers in the living room shone like stars, and you, with that damn impeccable wine colored dress and the innate bearing of a Wayne, seemed unattainable to anyone, untouchable, as if you were the most valuable jewel in Gotham.

You were gorgeous, completely mesmerizing to anyone, but even more so to Wally. But it wasn't anything new to anyone; it wasn't the first time he'd looked at you like that. In fact, he'd been doing it for years.

He met you when you were both teenagers, a couple of years after becoming friends with Dick. You weren't yet an active part of the vigilante world; Bruce didn't want to risk anything happening to you, but it was only a matter of time before you made a place for yourself in his world, at least working from the Batcave, providing information and conducting major investigations.

But even then, at a young age, you were a whirlwind; sharp, brilliant, with that dangerous mix of charm and sarcasm that left him speechless.

And tonight, seeing you like this, with that dress that hugged your curves with lethal precision, with that presence, while you were laughing at something that idiot Atlantean ambassador said, I felt like I couldn't keep pretending anymore.

Because now you weren't just his teenage crush, you weren't two kids anymore. He was a grown man, and you were a beautiful woman. He had to do something. He couldn't breathe at the thought of someone else getting there first.

I had to do something. I couldn't just stand there like another spectator while someone else refilled your glass and said things he wished he'd whispered to you years ago.

I couldn't breathe at the thought of someone else getting there first. Of someone else stealing your smiles, your secrets, your nights.

"Would you stop staring at my sister?" Dick asked, appearing at his side.

Wally didn't take his eyes off you, still watching every inch of you. How the hell could he get close to you if every time he spoke he was just talking nonsense? Maybe you liked that half-fish guy? Or maybe... did you always have that mole on your right breast?

"You've already broken him, you asked him for a very difficult task, Dick," Jason announced from a corner, holding a glass.

"He hasn't blinked in three minutes," Roy added, chewing on something. "Literally. I'm worried about his nervous system."

Donna placed a hand on Wally's shoulder, with that trained calm she used when someone was about to explode. "We know you can do it. But if you need help... well, we're bored, and it's a worthy cause."

"Perfect," Jason said, crossing his arms. "This is officially a field operation."

—What? No, you don't need a gun to th——Wally looked at them, somewhere between frustrated and scared.

"No one mentioned a gun," Donna interrupted, already pulling a small transmitter from her purse. "Right, Jason?"

Silence.

Jason smiled. “Didn’t you want to get rid of that guy over there?”

—Yeah, but not like that! We're not going to shoot anyone. —Wally raised his hands nervously.

"Shoot him?" Jason let out a dry laugh. "Don't worry so much about the guy, focus on keeping up with my sister."

Wally looked at him as if he'd been stabbed straight through the ego. "What kind of motivation is that?"

— a realist, —Roy chimed in naturally as he looked you up and down from afar— She's so fine, and you're... well, you're you.

"Thanks, Roy," Wally replied with a bitter smile. "It's nice to have friends like that."

"We're not your friends right now, at least not me," Jason clarified. "You want to flirt with my sister, it's totally disgusting. And Roy, shut up."

Roy threw up his hands, offended but amused. "I only tell the truth. Do you want me to lie? Do you want me to tell him he has a chance without our help?"

"Yeah!" Wally exclaimed. "Lie to me a little! Some emotional support wouldn't hurt, you know?"

—Perfect, everyone shut up —Donna took a small transmitter out of her bag— Put this on, Wally

Wally looked at her with a mixture of surprise and resignation, while Donna skillfully adjusted the transmitter behind his ear. "What's this?" he asked, somewhat nervously.

"A direct channel to us," Donna replied with a reassuring smile. "We'll guide you in real time so you don't make a fool of yourself."

"Really?" Wally blinked in disbelief. "Is this to save me from myself?"

"Exactly," Jason crossed his arms with a wry smile. "Now you really have no excuses."

Roy leaned closer, his tone more serious. "We're here to make sure you don't die virgin."

"You're an idiot Roy." Dick looked at him seriously.

Donna stepped back, assessing him like a soldier before entering the battlefield. “Ready.”

"Already?" Wally asked, feeling like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

"Okay. Give me two minutes," Donna said, turning toward the dance floor. "And you, breathe. Straighten your back. And for the love of the Titans... don't look at that mole again."

"I wasn't going to look at the mole!" Wally protested.

Dick just patted him on the shoulder. “Good luck, West.”

And then Donna moved forward. She crossed the room with the kind of confidence that could make politicians and aliens alike tremble. By the time she reached you, your glass was already half empty, and the Atlantean ambassador was rambling on about some unimportant maritime treaty.

"Shall I steal her from you for a second?" she asked, with a charming smile. She placed a hand on your back and gently guided you away from the Atlantean ambassador. You didn't ask any questions. You knew that if Donna pulled you out of a conversation, it was for a reason.

"I owe you one," you murmured.

"You'll pay me back," she replied with a half smile before disappearing into the crowd.

You turned to go back to the middle of the room and that's when you saw Wally, just passing by, drink in hand.

His eyes found you. He stopped.

"Hey," you said, before him. Had he always had those green eyes? oh god, he has a new freckle.

"Hey," he repeated, his voice steadier than he felt inside.

>Roy: He's in! We've got eye contact!

Jason: He shouldn't be talking nonsense.

Donna: Okay, let's let him breathe.

Dick: Shhh, turn it down. He's nervous.

"Are you having fun?" you asked with a genuine smile.

"Sort of. Not as much food as I expected," Wally replied without thinking. Then he laughed at himself. "Though... I think the night's looking up now."

Roy: There! Good one! Point for the unforced comment.

Jason: I give it half a point.

"Do you want to get some fresh air? We can go... to the garden, if you like," he suggested, as if he didn't want to miss the moment.

"Sure," you replied. "Besides, they made some nice arrangements in the garden, you have to appreciate them..."

idiot, idiot, idiot, what did I just say?

You walked together without saying much at first, through the French doors that led to the garden. The fresh air enveloped them with a faint scent of jasmine and damp earth. Inside, the party continued to echo in the distance.

Wally nervously ran a hand down the back of his neck as you leaned your arms on the stone railing overlooking the lower garden.

"It's a very nice view..." he murmured.

"Yes, it is," you replied softly, without looking at him. "If you think this view is great, you can't imagine what it looks like from my room." I just invited him to my room, shit

Roy:…

Donna: THAT'S IT GIRL, SHOW HIM!

Jason: I refuse to process it.

Dick: Don't go there, Wally, don't go fucking there!

Wally choked slightly on his own breath. “From your room… do you have the best view of Gotham?” he tried pathetically.

You shrugged, amused. “Depends on what you want to see” You leaned a little closer, enjoying the mix of nervousness and tenderness he exuded, "So... do you want to see the city with me from my room sometime?"

Wally swallowed, as if he was about to say something big.

Roy: IT'S NOW, IT'S NOW!!

Donna: Don't think about it anymore, just come closer!

Jason: If they kiss, I'm cutting the channel.

Dick: Shhh, shhh, Wally's going to—

They were a second away from getting close, from finally breaking the tension, finally going to be able to live in peace, damn those beautiful eyelashes…

"tsk, fucking disgusting."

You both turned. Damian. Standing like a shadow in the bushes. Arms crossed. “Stay away from my sister or I’ll bury you alive” face.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, visibly fed up.

Damian raised an eyebrow with absolute calm. "By keeping you from making stupid decisions."

Wally opened his mouth to defend himself, but Damian glared at him before any words came out. "Slowly back away from my sister..."

BONUS SCENE

In a secluded corner of the room, away from the hustle and bustle of string music, some League members share light conversation and moderate drinks. Barry Allen glides among them with his usual restrained energy, stopping next to Bruce, who watches silently from a vantage point.

His gaze is fixed on something beyond the crowd: on the garden, where his daughter and a young redhead in a suit are laughing too close to the edge.

Barry smiles, then follows her gaze. His expression changes slightly. "Oh, I get it."

"he's too close."

Barry was holding back a laugh at Bruce's intense concern for his daughter. "Come on, Bruce. He's nervous, not a danger. He's been avoiding her for years; her breathing by his side is progress."

Bruce finally turns his face toward Barry—Tell your nephew to stay away from my daughter, not to bother her.

"I really don't think it'll bother her. Oh look, she's getting closer."

Bruce discreetly reaches for the communicator hidden in his ear. He taps a channel. He doesn't change his tone of voice.

"Damian, now."

[lowrisemiller]

Hiii okay okay- idk I literally just woke up and was wondering if you could write smt along these lines. It’s Joel in Jackson, and he and reader have been having some tension. And after a big raid and grab in supplies a different couple had decided to hold a ‘wedding’ or what is considered a wedding in their times. There’s dancing in the middle of Jackson, fairy lights galore, cake etc. and reader just shows up in a beautiful dress (obv not outshining the bride, but yk in Joel’s eyes could) yes with some patches to recover the rips and some discoloration but that’s the moment Joel is like wow- mine. :D IDK IF U GET TYE VIBE just wanted to request (I also don’t know if these are open so if not it’s totally okay! Luv ur work ty in advance HDHS) also could be pure fluff or yk smut im grateful for either.

ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴜꜱ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

jackson!joel miller x fem!reader one-shot

srry this took awhile to answer, I hope you like it!

masterlist | 1.6k words | brief slow burn, protective joel!, possessive joel!, smut smut smut unprotected piv, soft dom!joel, age-gap not specified but it’s legal! | 💍 |

divider by @saradika-graphics

The lights in Jackson had never looked quite like this.

Maybe it was the paper lanterns, all glowing like warm stars strung between buildings. Or the buzz in the air—something hopeful, something rare. The couple who’d gotten married weren’t exactly close to you or Joel, but it didn’t matter. In a place like Jackson, a wedding was everyone’s win.

There’d been a successful raid. Medicine. Coffee. Batteries. Even flour and sugar for cake. So of course Maria declared a celebration. No one argued. Not even Joel.

You hadn’t seen him yet.

You’d spent most of the day getting ready, which felt ridiculous at first—vain, even. But when you pulled that salvaged dress from your closet, patched lovingly by hand, you realized how long it had been since you’d wanted to feel pretty.

The dress was vintage, silky and soft, a faded blue thing with little sewn-on appliqués along the bust and hem. A few discolored spots, a stitched-up tear at the side—but in the right light, you felt like you’d stepped out of someone else’s memory. Someone softer.

Your heart fluttered as you walked toward the town center, where fairy lights lit the snow-dusted ground and music spilled from the speakers Maria had miraculously kept alive.

And then—he saw you.

He hadn’t been looking for her. That’s what he told himself.

He’d posted up on the edge of the square, sipping something that might’ve been whiskey but tasted more like sugar and rust. He didn’t dance. Didn’t socialize. Tommy tried to drag him into a circle of people twice before giving up.

And then—he saw her.

Saw her.

Goddamn.

She wasn’t the bride, but in his eyes she may as well have been. That dress hugged her waist, skimmed her thighs, drifted in a way that had his heart stalling mid-beat. Her arms were bare despite the chill, her hair pulled back enough to show the soft line of her throat.

But it wasn’t just about looks. It was the way she walked—half-nervous, half-glowing. Like she hadn’t realized yet how much power she had. The kind that could floor a man like Joel Miller.

He hadn’t touched her in weeks. Not since that night they’d fought—nothing explosive, just stubborn silence, two people afraid of wanting too much. But now?

Now, when she looked at him with those tentative eyes, Joel was already unraveling.

His hand curled tight around the drink.

Mine.

The thought was quiet. Heavy.

He didn’t say a word as she approached. Just watched her like a starving man.

“You gonna stand there all night?” you asked gently, a hint of teasing in your voice.

Joel’s mouth twitched. “Might.”

“Even with cake?”

He didn’t respond.

You reached out, just brushing your fingers over the back of his hand.

That was all it took.

He looked at you like you’d stepped into his dream. Like he was both furious and grateful.

The tension that had brewed between you—the stares, the avoidance, the aching near-misses—was crashing down fast. His eyes followed every inch of you like he was memorizing. Like he’d never forgive himself if he looked away.

You offered him your hand, even though your palm was trembling.

And for once, Joel took it.

He let you lead him out, not to the dance floor, but to a quieter place behind one of the cabins, where the snow had stopped falling and the fairy lights glowed low.

“Didn’t think you’d come,” he rasped, voice low and rough.

“I wasn’t going to,” you said. “But then I remembered how much I wanted you to see me in this.”

That did it.

His mouth was on hers before she could say another word.

Not gentle, not yet—he kissed like a man deprived, both hands gripping her waist, fingers finding the bare skin of her lower back. The silk of the dress shifted under his palms, and he pulled her flush against him, letting her feel every hard line of his need.

“Christ,” he muttered, dragging his lips down her throat. “You wear this just for me?”

“I didn’t say that,” she whispered, breathless. “But I hoped.”

He groaned—actually groaned, low in his chest.

“You got no idea,” Joel growled, pressing her back gently against the cabin wall, his hand sliding up her thigh beneath the slit of the dress. “How long I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this. Thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

Her fingers tangled in his hair. Her hips tilted toward him.

“Then stop thinking.”

You gasped as his hand found the heat between your legs. The cold air made your skin prickle, but Joel’s body—his mouth, his hands—were fire.

“Fuck, baby…” he murmured. “So fuckin’ wet already.”

He dipped a finger under your panties, teasing just enough to make you whimper, make your thighs shake.

“You needed this, didn’t you?” he muttered. “Needed me.”

You nodded, too breathless to speak.

But he didn’t rush.

Joel was slow. Intentional. Fingers tracing every inch like he wanted to carve you into his memory.

And when he finally slid them inside—two thick fingers curling perfectly—your knees almost gave out.

He caught you, of course. Held you up like it was nothing.

And still, he didn’t kiss you again. Not yet.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against your ear, grinding his palm into your clit while his fingers fucked you slow and deep.

“Say it.”

“Yours,” you breathed, hand fisting his jacket. “I’m yours.”

Joel kissed you then. Bruising, messy, possessive. Like he couldn’t help himself.

He should’ve taken her inside. Should’ve cared if someone might see.

But right now, with her pressed against that wall in the quiet dark, Joel couldn’t think.

He dropped to his knees, lifting her leg over his shoulder, mouth finding her heat like he was starving.

And God—the sounds she made.

Whining. Gasping. Moaning his name like a prayer.

He held her open, tongue working her clit in long, slow strokes while his fingers pumped deeper, slick and warm.

When she came—shaking, sobbing his name—he kept going, drinking her in like he was afraid to stop.

Then he stood, face slick, breath heavy.

“I’m not done with you,” he growled.

You barely remembered how you got inside.

His place. His bed. His weight on top of you.

Joel kissed you softer this time, stripping you slow. Your dress fell away in pieces, and his hands mapped every part of you like he had all the time in the world.

But when he slid inside you—bare, thick, perfect—there was nothing slow about it.

He fucked like he meant it. Rough. Deep. One hand holding your hip, the other tangled in your hair. His eyes locked on yours the whole time.

“This what you wanted?” he rasped. “Me claimin’ you like this?”

“Yes—yes, Joel, fuck—”

He groaned against your neck, hips stuttering as you clenched around him.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he growled. “So tight—goddamn. Gonna come, baby—where you want it?”

“Inside,” you whispered. “Please.”

He kissed you hard, hips jerking.

And then—he was gone, coming deep with a low growl, like the word mine dragged out into a sound.

After

He held you after.

Didn’t say much.

Just kissed your shoulder, buried his face in your neck, and stayed.

And maybe that was the real wedding.

Just him. You. And the warmth between you in the dark.

🏷️ @xodilfluvr @zevrra @millersdoll @littlemillersbaby

[pinkyqily]

Could you writr smt with Vicky and maybe reader bit older than her trying to teach her to drive and pass the test and it being absolutely chaos for them two? Maybe like as chaos that they need try get Irene or Marta to help (Basicly anyone of the elder but not Alexia thanks)

𝙁𝘼𝙎𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙊𝙎 - platonic vicky Lopez x reader x Irene Paredes

Summary: You and vicky cause havoc when you had to get your drivers license, but else to stop both of other than the mother of the group Irene.

Contains: cursing, funny banter, going back and forth in English and Spainsh, hate comments, also pictures used in the instagram acc doesn't not represent readers only there for aesthetic reasons so feel free to use your own description. 2y age gap as vicky is 18 and reader 20, if the age gap makes anyone uncomfortable plz let me know and I'll change it

A/n: apologizes that it took me a long time to reply and get this done but here it's and I hope that you enjoyed reading this cause it was a lot of fun writing this 💕 and I found it funny how you didn't want a alexia mention 😭 there's only a small mention of her in the social media part. There's also going to be 2 more parts cause who doesn't want there love to continue.

Anyways don't forget to like,reblog and comments as they help my page and motivate me 🫶🏿

It was during an away game where you had overheard vicky talking about how she was getting ready for her driving license.

and she was talking about how she needed someone who already knew how to drive to teach her, so she doesn't look like a fool whe she get to the center for her practices.

You being the experienced driver yourself and had recently gotten yours. decided to offer your help to her in which you received a laughing vicky in your face.

"Usted es un conductor experimentado, ¿en qué ciudad?" She said while laughing

"This one belive it or not my driving is exceptional". You tried convincing her.

"Si eres excepcional, no me gustaría saber cuáles son las habilidades de conducción de Salma".

"Salma?who can barely drive herself outside of her own parking lot is who you're comparing me too I fear you've lost it."

"Por favor Salma, conducir es como una brisa".

"brisa sure a one way tickets to a real madrid game in which you guys crash before you get there". You said to her.

By now both of you where going back and forth on which one of you had bad driving.

"Está bien, dejaré que me enseñes porque nadie más se ofreció".

"Meet me after our game on Friday."

Friday came around pretty quickly, and you found yourself in a free area to help vicky practice. The first few days went pretty calmly as she already knew the basics.

It was around your one week mark of teaching her that things to a turn for worse.

you had decided that you both would take turns driving out. distance being from your place to a near by cafe, going and returning.

Vicky had done perfectly fine, fine being hitting a few stuff but she got her act right. It finally was your turn until one asshole decided to pass your light speeding and almost hitting your car as you we're in front.

But you weren't one of those drivers who would let it slide.

You rolled down your cars windows and started cursing out the guy in your broken spanish as your blood was boiling when you saw his car infront of you. The audacity of reckless drivers now are days.

"¿Tu cerebro está tan dañado que necesitabas chocar mi auto?." You yelled out from your window

"Estás jodidamente atónito de que no puedas hablar. Pensé que estábamos conduciendo y no teníamos como objetivo quitar vidas". You said to the driver who stil hasn't responded by now a few people where coming out to see what was going on.

The driver was at least 5'0 when he came outside of his car coming your way. Seeing him from your rare light you also decided to get out because there was no way he was going to intimate your ass.

"Vicky just stay here and keep the door closed this Canadian driver is about to go bonkers".

"¿Seguro que quieres salir allí?" She asked you

"The last thing I'm having is that guy thinking he can hit my car and think he can get out of it". You said to her.

"Aye don't be worry I'll just go out there take a picture the damage and his drivers plates so I can get it insured". grabbing her hands as you could tell she was getting worried.

"solo que nada mas". She said

"Can't promise you no trouble though". You told her as you got out of the car. Thank God for athleticism because the moment the guys saw a tall women coming out the car he had change directions of where he was going.

Who was intimidating who now?. You did what you told vicky taking pictures of the damages and drivers plates. All of a sudden your felt someone tap your shoulders but you where quick to catch there hands due to fast reflase.

Looking up and seeing your Barcelona teammates and mother figure Irene starring at you.

"¿Qué está pasando?" preguntó ella".

"Some asshole started It and aye being tall has it privileges". You told her half joking.

"Por favor dime que Vicky no está en tu auto".

"Well she is cause I was teaching her how to drive until this mess". You said pointing to your car and the dumb driver.

"Bueno, ustedes necesitarían un auto nuevo porque el suyo necesita una reparación total." She said to you instead of whatever speech you thought she'll had given you on.

"I'll have to rent one ugh speaking of renting one this one isn't even mine to being with". You told her now remember this was a car the club had gotten you so your transportation could be easier.

"No te preocupes, ellos lo entenderán, además, claramente no es tu culpa". She said

From then on she came to every single practice she could make it to so that she could monitor your teaching and Vicky's driving.

Thankfully the club was able to understand the situation and you got a new one.

The day of Vicky's finally test came pleased to say she passed with flying marks and now has her drivers license. As she told you over the phone the moment she found out

"Told you I was an expectation all driver and teacher". You said to her playfully hitting her arm

"No eras tan malo como pensaba". She told you

"So your accepting the fact that I'm a great driver".you told her

Bueno, no genial, no te adelantes". She said but this time around her tone was very much different to the teasing one she normally use on a close friends.

After your call with vicky you had decided to drive to her place.

she did deserve a celebration for passing her test wasn't everyday people pass it, so you told yourself, but it was more of a excuse for you to just see her.

She was quite flustered to see at her place considering both of your just off the phone. You took her out to her favorite snack shop and told her she could pick as much stuff she wanted that it was all on you.

She brought some ice cream and a bag if snack filled with both your favorites for away games.

You found yourself starring at vicky in a i wanna be more than friends way, the way her lips would touch on the ice cream leaving a traces of it on her cheeks, the chil wind slowly blowing through her bouncing curlys.

You felt like grabbing a pices of her curlys but held yourself back

YourInstagram&vickylopez

Victories are meant to be celebrated @vickylopez

Comments

@Woso_fan are they dating?

@Ona.batlle what are we celebrating that the whole gang isn't there

》yourreplied vicky passing her drivers test thanks to my amazing teaching

》vickylopezreplied Estábamos de acuerdo en que bueno ¿de dónde salió lo asombroso?

@Salmaparalluelo ese beso parece un poco antipático mantén tus gérmenes lejos de mi hermana pequeña

《Youreplied calm down I haven't taken your sister from you yet

》comments has been deleted

《You replied calm down we're just having fun

@cattta.coll feeling a little disappointed on not being invited

@Claudiapina La primera foto es romántica creo @vickylopez @yourusernamee

《Youreplied worry about fans suspecting you and @patriguijarro being together

《@Claudiapina sí, solo somos mejores amigas

《Youreplied Bestfriend who spend the whole summer together

@viickylopez the best teacher 😄

《Liked by creator

@vickyandyournamesupremacy I knew something was going on with them after that el classico

《@Wosoloveseveryone replied don't spread misinformation like vicky would date a thing like that

《@allaboutwoso replied wait what

《@wosoloveseveryone replied you can check my page I've posted the moments between these and it quite obvious they're more than friends or want to be more than friends

@alexiaputellass ¿qué es esto?

《Comment has been deleted

Translations

"You are an experienced driver, in which city?" - "Usted es un conductor experimentado, ¿en qué ciudad?"

"If you are exceptional, I wouldn't like to know what Salma's driving skills are - "Si eres excepcional, no me gustaría saber cuáles son las habilidades de conducción de Salma".

"Please Salma, driving is like a breeze." - "Por favor Salma, conducir es como una brisa".

"Okay, I'll let you teach me since no one else volunteered." - "Está bien, dejaré que me enseñes porque nadie más se ofreció".

"What's going on?" - "¿Qué está pasando?"

"Is your brain so damaged that you needed to crash my car?" - "¿Tu cerebro está tan dañado que necesitabas chocar mi auto?."

"You're fucking stunned that you can't talk. I thought we were driving and not aiming to take lives."- "Estás jodidamente atónito de que no puedas hablar. Pensé que estábamos conduciendo y no teníamos como objetivo quitar vidas".

"Are you sure you want to go out there?" - "¿Seguro que quieres salir allí?"

"just nothing more." - "solo que nada mas".

"Please tell me Vicky isn't in your car." - "Por favor dime que Vicky no está en tu auto".

"Well, you'd need a new car because yours needs a complete repairing." - "Bueno, ustedes necesitarían un auto nuevo porque el suyo necesita una reparación total."

"Don't worry, they'll understand, besides, it's clearly not your fault."- "No te preocupes, ellos lo entenderán, además, claramente no es tu culpa".

"You weren't as bad as I thought."- "No eras tan malo como pensaba".

[yournightmary]

fake dating with ellie… like shes trying to get away from cat (cat has like an obsession w/ her or smt??) and reader ex’s with abby but abby wont leave her alone so ellie and reader start fake dating but ellie gets possesive, wants to spend all day with reader EVENTUALLY STARTS ACTUALLY DATING

lmao this might be rlly bad… i love your writing

Fake Dating with Ellie

content warning:: fem!reader, modern!AU, mentions of drinking and smoking, i don’t know what else

AN:: I passed my exams😋 Hope you enjoy it, I kind of ran out of ideas at the end:/

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Cat thought that Ellie ‘owed’ her something because she did her tattoo for free (even though she literally made the offer). She was constantly on her ass but in a way that Ellie couldn’t really call her out on or anything.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ As for you and Abby- that poor girl got caught up in her first wlw relationship and couldn’t let you go. You didn’t have the heart to just tell her off so you tried to find a different way to let her know it’s not going to work out.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ You and Ellie weren’t really friends, like of course you guys knew each other. But most of your interactions were on parties or during hangouts with your shared friends.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ One time you overheard Ellie talking about Cat to Dina and you shared your own little story with Abby. That’s when you actually talked to each other, not just meaningless small talk.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Ellie was the one that came up with the whole ‘fake dating’ idea, right after Cat started accidentally showing up at Ellie’s job every single time she was working. She still has no idea who gave that girl her schedule.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ You’ve heard some rumors about Abby telling people ‘you were just on a break’ so you thought, why not? Ellie’s a good friend, there won’t be anything hard about fake dating, right?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ At first it started off as just being everywhere in public together. She’d walk you to your classes, always sit next to you and small things like that.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ But Dina said you don’t look believable. And she was right to be honest, it looked like you guys were just friends (which you were) hanging around.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ That’s when you both agreed on some light touches. You’d hold her hand, she’d keep an arm around your waist, maybe even kiss your forehead when Cat or Abby were looking. (There were a few times she pretended she saw them just to do that)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Then you proposed that you should starting posting each other on your social media. Not like a hard launch ‘Hey this is my girlfriend’ thing, more like Ellie sneaking in a little candid photo of you in the shitposting hell her insta story is. Which Cat always saw immediately after posting.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Ellie made the mistake of tagging you on them one time and literally a few hours later you were getting a ‘hey girly’ message from Cat’s account. She tried to convince you that Ellie was cheating on you by sending some old screenshots of their messages and photos of her. Ellie almost pissed herself laughing when you showed her the DMs.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ After a few weeks of fake dating you and Ellie actually became pretty good friends. You had a lot more in common than you thought… other than weird exes.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ You started hanging out alone, or just with Dina and Jesse- since they were both in on it. Whenever she would act couple-y at those times she’d laugh it off as ‘muscle memory’.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ You both agreed that kissing was okay as long as it wasn’t too much, just a small peck here and there. It was mostly because one time at a party Ellie leaned in to whisper something to you and you backed away, unfortunately (or not) Abby saw that and thought it was a little weird.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ After that you acted pretty much like a couple, even in private. Like she’d bring you some take out and you’d kiss her as a thank you, the only thing that was different than actually dating was the fact that you both apologized every time you did that. No matter if it was on accident or not. It wasn’t most of the times

⇢ ˗ˏˋ A good few months passed and Cat finally let Ellie live in peace while Abby moved on from you and went back to Owen. At first you both were relieved that the ‘crazy ex’ thing was over for both of you, but then you realized that meant the end of fake dating. Because obviously you didn’t have actual feelings for each other, it was all just an act, right?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Yeaaah, not really. You literally didn’t change anything about your relationship after that. Ellie would constantly ask you out on ‘friendly dates’, but you don’t really get high and make out on those, do you?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Any time you would mention getting a partner she would get so upset. I don’t think she gets angry when she jealous, she just gets sad and thinks that maybe you don’t actually feel anything for her.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Then you were both at some random party and someone was hitting on you. Before you knew it Ellie was grabbing your wrist, leading you outside and telling you she doesn’t want to fake it anymore (she was a little drunk) ((and high))

⇢ ˗ˏˋ The only thing that changed when you got serious was that you moved in together, as lesbians do. I mean you kind of dated for almost a year, that’s a long time.

I will never ever write in a normal format

[be-missed]

Smut with Cairo Sweet x Dom!femReader?

Option 1.

The plot would be like Cairo is making someone else jealous with R, (maybe Winnie) and she doesn't know R has feelings for her.

Or

Option 2.

Cairo is just teasing R cause she knows R has feelings for her.

Then

It's makes R hurt/upset + angry. But how Cairo treating her also makes R hot and frustrated (like Cairo teasing R in the classroom or smt)

And the ending would be good? Like they are gonna be a couple. Yeah.

- I know it's a shitty idea, I just wanted to help you.. lmao<3 Thank you for writing, I always enjoy reading your works! Sorry for the long ass request! <33

Untitled 2 (MDNI)

Cairo Sweet X Dom!Fem Reader

(Picture not mine)

Summary: Cairo tries to make you jealous using Winnie and you got angry. SMUT

Warning/s: explicit scene, explicit language, voyeurism, exhibitionism, strap, curse words. MDNI!

A/N: probably my most explicit story. I don't know if this is how a dom works, I apologise.

Masterlist

____________________________________________________

You followed Cairo in to the bathroom, and as you open the door, there she was standing in front of the mirror fixing her hair. "What the fuck was that?" You yelled at her as you stormed in.

Cairo ignored you as she tried to reapply her red lipstick that she used to mark Winnie's cheek. You get frustrated at this act so you went towards her and yanked her arm "I'm asking you a question, Cairo. What the fuck was that?" Cairo stared into your eyes with a devilish smirk, acting stupid she asked "What was what Y/N?"

You know that Cairo was acting stupidly so that she can push your buttons more. "You know what I fucking meant" You said as your eyes widen trying to warn Cairo. The other girl shaked her head no and said "I don't know what you're talking Y/N" and chuckled.

This infuriated you, "Oh, you want to play this game? Okay, fine" you then smirked as Cairo raised her eyebrow, waiting for your next move. You pushed her into the sink, you trapped her body as you leaned in to her ear and whispered "As much as I want you dumb, I need you to explain the things that you do with that girl."

"What girl Y/N?" Cairo said as she starts to caress your forearm that's holding her in her place between you and the sink, "Oh, you mean Winnie?" She said with a smirk and you answered "I don't care about her damn name, tell me what're you doing with her?"

Cairo lets out a chuckle and said "Oh is that jealousy I smell?" trying to tease you. You smirked at her "I can't be jealous over a nerd who thinks she can pull you" which Cairo then laughed at. "Oh, she don't need to pull me if I'm the one who's pushing myself into her, hmm?" Cairo said with a raised eyebrow.

This made you angry as she admitted how she is trying to push herself at Winnie. "So you're replacing me with someone who I bet can't even make you cum?" You said chuckling. You then leave slow wet kisses on her neck as your other hand caress the inside of her thigh, playing with the hem of her short.

You can feel Cairo's breathing gets shallow. "Can she make your sweet little pussy drip, hmm?" Cairo bit her lip as she tries to suppress a moan as you unbuttoned her short. You were waiting for a response from Cairo, but as you slightly pulled away from kissing her neck, you can see her eyes are closed, with her biting her lips, breathing getting shallow, as she gripped the the end of the sink. This is where you want her, desperate, in need, and dripping.

You smirked at Cairo's state and you insert your hand inside her underwear, your pointer and middle finger started to work on slow circles on her clit. This action earned you a breathy moan from the other girl. "Look at me Cairo" you demanded as you started to tease her dripping hole.

Cairo whimpered as she looked at you, "Can that girl make you feel like this?" You asked taunting her, but Cairo is much more of a teaser than you are, she thinks "Winnie, her name is Winnie" she said with a smirk.

"I don't fucking care about her name. I'm asking you a question. Can she touch you like this, hmm?" You asked Cairo as you dipped a finger inside her clenching hole and it made her whine even more. "Answer me, Cairo" you said as you only push the tip of your finger teasing her. "Just put it in" Cairo said trying to grind on your hand.

"Answer the question, can she make you feel good?" You asked as Cairo shaked her head no and said "No, just ngh... please" Cairo sounded desperate as she tries so hard to grind on your hand. "See, it's not that hard to fucking answer my question, right?" You then insert your pointer finger inside her making her roll her head back as she closed her eyes.

Cairo grinded into your hand while you started to kiss her neck again, now leaving tiny marks. You heard the door open, but you ignored it, but Cairo frozen up. You heard a voice that called Cairo's name and you whispered into her ear "You better answer that" and you put another finger inside her. Cairo bit her lip to stop herself from moaning. You moved her fingers inside her, massaging her velvet walls.

"Cairo are you in here? I saw you enter the bathroom earli—" Winnie was cut off when she saw what's happening in the sink. Cairo's mouth shaped like an O, with her breathy moans, with her heavy breathing. Your back was facing her, your face deep in Cairo's neck leaving wet kisses.

You know who it was, but you still continue to push your finger inside of Cairo. "What... do you... need?" Cairo said to Winnie as she starts to feel your hands getting faster. Winnie on the other hand was stunned with what she's seeing. She don't need any explanation on what you're doing to Cairo.

"I..." Winnie was speechless, but before she gets out of the bathroom, you looked at her through the mirror and you smirked. "Can you make her feel this good?" You asked as you started to fasten your phase into Cairo's dripping hole that earned a moan from the other girl, "Come on, I'm asking you..." you then kissed the side of Cairo's face as she was grinding into your hand and gripping your back.

Cairo lets out a loud moan as you started to massage her clit with your thumb. Winnie was watching the scene in awe as she shaked her head no. You smirked at her and said "Good. Now, do you know who she belongs to?" You said as you sucked a big mark on Cairo's neck, still looking at Winnie through the mirror, while Cairo moans loudly with the pain and pleasure she felt from the kiss.

"Yo..you" Winnie said stammering and she gulped with how Cairo looked so hot. "Good, now you know your limits. I better not see you near her again, understood?" You said to Winnie as she nodded, understanding what you said. "Now scramble, I don't want to see you near her again" That was the last words that Winnie heard before she ran outside the bathroom.

You whispered to Cairo who's now fighting for her life as she grinds herself into your hand, "Heard what she said? She can't make you feel this good. Only me, do you understand?" You said as you add another finger into Cairo's core, which earned a loud moan and a nod. You can now see a tear falling down into Cairo's face as you feel her hole getting tighter and wetter.

"Do you know what happens when a good girl has three knuckles deep into her cunt?" You asked Cairo as she say weakly "cum..." You teased her and asked her again "What sweetheart? I didn't hear you" through gritted teeth, Cairo said "Good girls... cum"

And you nodded, approving what she said "That's right, good girls get to cum" after you said that, you fasten your phase and giving it to Cairo harder. You can feel her clenching getting more often as you hear her whisper that she's close.

But before she gets to her release, you pulled away. "UGH, FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" You hear Cairo cursed, looking like a mess, with her unbuttoned shorts, wet underwear, her neck full of your marks. "You said it yourself, good girls get to cum. But you aren't a good girl sweetheart." You said with a smirk and put your three fingers inside your mouth, trying to suck Cairo's juices.

Cairo looked at you angrily trying to button up her shorts "What the fuck are you into?" You smirked at Cairo and said "Tonigh, your house, your bed, and you on your dress" you walked closer to Cairo and kissed her cheek "See you later" and you walked out for the bathroom.

Cairo was so angry at you, but she knows she needs to follow your order for her to get her release. Cairo was fixing herself and when she looked at the mirror, she saw her neck, full of your marks which only means that it's either she wear a scarf, cover it with makeup, or just go home.

***

You bent Cairo down in her own matress, both arms are crossed on her back with you holding to it, while your other hand starts to caress her ass. Cairo struggled to move as you pin her down. "Stop moving, we both know you can't do shit in this position." You said as you trail your fingers through the inside if her thigh, until you reached her soaked core.

You dance your fingers through her wet slit, teasing clit and her drenched hole. "Aren't you a little excited?" You teased as you grab the end of the strap that you're wearing and nudged the tip of it to Cairo's aching clit. Cairo whimpered with the action and tried to grind down, but to no avail, you just pinned her even more that made her grunt.

"Now now, be a good girl Cairo" you said as you leaned down to her and kissed her exposed shoulders. Cairo bits her lips and said "I don't think it'll fit", she was worried knowing that this is the first time that you'll use your new bought strap. Your kisses travels to her shoulder, through the side of her neck and to her ear which you bit her lobe and said "Don't worry darling, I'll make it fit."

You straighten your body as you squirt a fair amount of lube to your strap, even if Cairo is wet, a little bit of help wouldn't hurt, after all, you didn't want to hurt Cairo. Because even though you don't admit it to her, you know for yourself that this set up that you two have does not only end as a fuck body, but as every time you spent with her, you fall for her charm and her as a person. So you wanted to give Cairo the best experience she'll ever have.

"Y/N please..." you hear Cairo pleaded with a needy voice and you answered "Of course baby, I'm just preparing you, I don't want to hurt you" and you leaned down kissing Cairo's spine that leaves goosebumps on her skin.

As you teased her drenching cunt with the tip of your strap, Cairo grinded down. You slowly insert the tip of your strap as you play with her clit, Cairo moaned with the intrusion and tries to push her hips to meet you.

"Is this okay?" You asked, making sure that Cairo don't feel any pain which she answered with a laboured breath "S'big..." which is followed by a whimper as you still push half of the length. "You're doing good, just a little bit more" You said as you let go of her hands and you massaged her lower back, trying to give her comfort.

By the time that the strap was fully inside of Cairo, you looked down at where your hips meet and you cursed to yourself, looking at how Cairo's cunt is stretched, with her juices leaking down, wetting her thighs and yours.

"Y/N move, please..." Cairo plead as she gripped the bed sheets crumpling it. You started with a slow motion, only leaving the half of the strap inside and pushing it back with a little pressure. In each thrust you give, Cairo lets out little throaty moans that turns you on more.

"Let go... I need you... rough" Cairo said after a few minutes for getting used with the length and girth of the strap. With that request, you fasten your phase, as you grip her hair forming a pony tail for more leverage. Cairo moaned at the sudden pull of her hair and the sudden thrust you gave her.

"You like this, huh? You like being my little fuck toy?" You said as you thrusting into Cairo hard enough to hear skin slapping. Cairo tried to nod while she can't control herself from moaning out and strings of curse words can be heard.

"Are you dumb enough to not know how so speak?" You teased Cairo as you pulled her up, holding her through her chin as her back is now pressed to your front. This position hits another level of deep into Cairo's cunt, this earned you a loud moan as she clings to your arm for support. You know fasten your phase as your other hand snaked through Cairo's front to play with her clit, drawing tight circles into it.

You csn hear Cairo panting and chanting your name as you know you're fucking her dumb. Cairo's cunt gets a little tighter and release more of her juices, signs of Cairo getting close to her release. You leaned in to deposit wet kisses to her neck as you whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

"I'm.. close" Cairo let's out as she puts her hand on top of yours that was massging her clit. You knew that this means that she needs your hand ok a different place like her nipples. Which you obliged, you put your fingers into your mouth and wet it with your saliva, after wetting it, you toyed Cairo's right nipple that was protruding and asking for attention. As Cairo replaced your hand with her own fingers that was massaging her clit.

All of these actions was now pushing Cairo for her release, "Please baby... want to... cum" Cairo said with gritted teeth and closed ayes as she chases her release. With you fastening your phase and giving it to Cairo harder, you counted on your mind.

Three... Cairo was now gripping your arm marking it with her nails...

Two... She arched her back getting ready for the outburst that she'll experience...

One... Cairo shouted your name as she grinded down to your strap and reached her high...

Cairo cummed, soaking your strap with her juices, some even dripped om her thighs and yours, also wetting the bed sheet that was under her. You can feel Cairo's laboured breathing. You gently put her down to bed with her laying on her stomach as you continue to move your strap slowly to help her ride out her high.

You know at this stage, Cairo will be unresponsive as she is currently bathing in her post-cum self. You stroke her hair to the side as you murmured how good of a girl she was for cumming and soaking your strap. You followed it with lines of kisses through her back.

Pulling away from Cairo, you looked at her now swollen cunt pulsating and still clenching. You lightly massage her lower back to help her relax and to help her regain her consciousness.

After a minute or so, you feel a light breathing from the other girl, knowing that she fell asleep, you slowly pulled the strap out of her that made her whine, as you put her under the sheets and you lay down beside her. Even in her sleep, she wants to be close to you so she cuddled into you.

Stroking her hair, watching her sleep, gives you peace as you whispered "I love you" hoping she can't hear it in her sleeping state. As you closed the lamp from your side and get comfortable, Cairo shifted a little anyone heard her whisper "About time you say you love me"

This comment made you freeze, because you thought Cairo was asleep. "I thought you're sleeping?" You said nervously which Cairo chuckled and replied "No, I wasn't, I was resting." This earned you a confused face and told her "Aren't those the same?" And Cairo answered you with "I don't think so, I just closed my eyes, but you moved me so I let you"

Even in the dark you can feel Cairo smirking. "But I thought you're tired" you said and Cairo answered you "I was... the strap was big, but you made it fit. I can feel my pussy pulsing because its swollen" which you then smirked but you quickly said "I'm sorry, I..." but Cairo cut you off "Don't be, I like it. Every time I walk or sit down it reminds me of you fucking me"

This comment made you blush as you quickly dismissed Cairo "Stop with the teasing..."

A few minutes of silence has gone by, until Cairo broke the silence and asked "Is it true? Do you love me?" The moon light was now brithher than it was as your eye adjust to the darkness. You looked at Cairo who is now staring at you as you said " Yes, I'm afraid so... I love you... I'm falling for you. I think that was the reason why I hate it when you flirt wth other people and to that Minnie girl"

Cairo chuckled at your response and said "Don't be scared, because I ove you too. And if making you jealous would be the reason to make you admit your feelings then I should've done it earlier."

The both of you chuckled at the comment as you pulled Cairo closer and she nuzzled her face into your neck.

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

A/N: Any thoughts?

[hoe4hotchner]

Hii ! Can I request a hotch x bau!reader with the grumpy x sunshine trope where hotch is kind of protective of the reader and she (or you can make it gn I don’t mind) is oblivious and I don’t rly have an idea for the plot maybe on a case or smt 😭 tysm if you write it and if you don’t it’s ok too <33

I honestly had to google the trope, I've been writing fanfics for nearly 10 years and at this point I still only remember the classic tropes.

Anyway, I don't know if I used it correctly. Hotch is a teeny tiny bit dramatic

"Alright, team we have a lot of work to do. The sooner we get on top of this, the better." Hotch said looking at his watch, hoping he could be back in Quantico by tomorrow morning for the yearly budget meeting. Who else would defend the expenses of the BAU?   "Don’t worry, Hotch. We’ve got this. I’m sure we’ll crack this case in no time!" You flashed him a smile, despite the situation.   "Let’s focus on the details for now." Hotch's eyes softened gradually as he nodded.   Throughout the day, Hotch’s attention seemed to drift toward you more often than usual. Whether it was a glance when you ventured too close to the edge of a crime scene or a slight increase in his tension when you had to interact with potential witnesses or suspects, it was clear he was more on edge than ever.   "Y/N, be careful over there," Hotch’s voice rumbled as you peered over the edge of the cliff the last victim had been thrown over, a hint of concern veiled beneath his gruff expression.   "I’m always careful, sir. No worries!" You glanced back with a bright smile.   Hotch’s jaw tightened, though he tried to conceal it with a curt nod. As the case progressed, so did the danger. In the evening, while following a promising lead, you and Reid were near a run-down building that had become a potential hotspot where the unsub potentially performed his twisted rituals and routines. Hotch was nearby, coordinating the team's efforts, but his eyes never strayed far from your location.   A loud noise echoed through the building, the dust stirring into the air. You instinctively reached for your weapon and moved toward the sound, but Hotch’s voice cut through the chaos.   "Y/N, stay back!" he commanded, his tone firmer than usual. You froze for a moment, a bit taken aback by the intensity in his voice, but quickly resumed your position behind Spencer.

"Got it, sir."   Despite your reassurance, Hotch’s anxiety was palpable. When you finally emerged from behind the building, safe but slightly shaken, Hotch was waiting for you, his concern evident even as he tried to keep his face emotionless.   "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice softer now, though still edged with an underlying urgency.   "I’m fine. Just a little adrenaline rush." You smiled up at him, brushing off the dust from your clothes. Hotch’s gaze lingered on you, a mix of relief and frustration in his eyes.

"You need to be more careful. I can’t always be there to protect you guys."   "But you are always there, Hotch. I’ve never felt unsafe with the team. We’re all in this together." You tilted your head, puzzled at what he meant.   "It’s just…" Hotch’s expression softened slightly, and he took a deep breath. Before he could finish, the team regrouped, and the focus shifted back to solving the case. Yet, the tension between you and Hotch remained.

It wasn’t until the case was closed and the unsub caught that Hotch finally found a moment alone with you.   "You did well today."   "Thanks, Hotch. So did you. I couldn’t have done it without your support." You beamed at the praise, trying to pay it right back to him.   "It’s more than just support. I—" He hesitated. Hotch’s gaze lingered on you, his usual stoicism cracking just a little. "I worry about you. Sometimes more than I should, I think." Hotch’s expression softened further, his protective and cold nature finally giving way to a vulnerable side. "Just promise me you’ll be more careful. I can’t afford to lose you."   "I promise." You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. Hotch’s eyes met yours, a rare smile touching his lips.

Consider linking or reblogging if you enjoy my work

[another-bryk-in-the-wall]

Rain and Snow - Martin Septim x F!HoK

i have found a new pookie so of course i had to write smt for him. please enjoy. i didn't use any specific language for the HoK apart from she/her, so you can imagine your HoK, no matter if High Elf or Kahjiit :)

Warnings: the writer is cringe but free, fluff

tagging @shadow-pancake9 cause you were so nice in the comments of the teaser :D

♥

Rest had become a foreign word for them. She either running around, trying to save Cyrodiil from harm, fighting others here and there, or trying to locate things for him. He was reading the books provided, trying to fight the demons crawling into his mind from the things he had read.

The nights were too long. The nights were too dark.

She came to realize that sleep was something impossible to reach on this very night. Too much blood, too much death, all coming back to haunt her. All the tossing and turning hadn’t helped her, made her feel even worse.

So instead she got up from the bed, stretching a few times. The Cloud Ruler Temple was silent, only a few snores could be heard from time to time. The weather had changed drastically these past few days, a rainfront came in from Skyrim, along with fog and a coldness that reached her bones when she was outside. The rain was falling still, playing piano on the roof tiles.

She put on her socks and shoes and headed into the Great Hall to escape the invisible demons chasing her. A fire was still crackling in the fireplace, filling the room with a warmth she was seeked so badly. Force of habit, she checked the room before fully entering, when she noticed - she wasn’t alone.

By the fireplace was a couch. Someone must have moved it from the corner to the fireplace, and someone was sitting there. The silhouette was clear, she couldn’t mistake him for anyone else.

“Martin? Why are you still up?”, she asked as she took a step towards him, now fully visible.

Martin looked up from the book he was reading. It wasn’t one of the daedric books she had gotten hold of, no, just a simple fictional story of a Khajiit Alfiq, telling the stories of travel and causing chaos all over Tamriel. The book was a children’s favourite, for non-Khajiit as it was a fun book, for Khajiit children it showed them there were more ways to live and to come to terms with their own unique ways.

“Something lighter for a change?”, she asked, by now standing in front of the fireplace. Martin’s eyes had deep bags under them, the tiredness written across every line and wrinkle on his face. His whole posture screamed ‘sleep!’, but when the mind is full, the body cannot sleep.

“I needed something different for once.”, Martin said - even his voice was full of sleep. He placed a bookmark into the page he was currently reading, then put the book aside. “What keeps you up?”, he patted on the spot next to him.

She sat down next to Martin, eyes on the fireplace, “I was dreaming of Kvatch again. I often dream of the people I couldn’t save. It haunts me.”, she sighed.

Martin, not really knowing how to reply to this, placed a comforting hand on her back, rubbing there slowly. “But you saved so many people there. You saved me. You changed the world by being so selfless.”

“But there were so many other people which I didn’t save! They also deserved to be saved!”

“There’s a reason for everything in life. Their deaths were part of something bigger, leading us here. There’s a meaning behind their deaths, and if you continue to fight on, their deaths won’t be in vain.”

She sighed as she placed her face into her hands, Martin’s words repeating in her head. “You know…I am not sure what the Gods have planned for us. Nor am I excited to find out. But I have to do it.”

“Wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to do it. We have to do it.”, Martin said, a reassuring smile covering his tired face. In another moment, these words coming from another person would have made her laugh. But right here and right now, she knew Martin was right. They were in this mess together. “No matter what you do, I’ll be right by your side. And when I am crowned Emperor, you can be sure that you’ll be set for life. I’ll make sure you won’t have to worry for another day of your life and you’ll rest in satin every day.”

“Well, I am looking forward to that, because the blankets here are quite itchy.”, and they both couldn’t help but laugh - it was true after all. The blankets were horrible, the pillows not a bit better.

“Once the weather is better, I’ll head down to Bruma and get us better pillows. One of the vendors must have pillows in stock.”

♥

In the late hours of the evening, she returned from her day trip down to Bruma. The weather had progressively gotten worse over the past few hours, changing from a rain storm to a full blown blizzard. Shivering and frozen to the bone, she arrived back at the Cloud Ruler Temple. The cold nearly made her stiff, the warm fire in the fireplace heated her the moment she came through the door.

“There you are!”, Martin said, he had approached the door when he heard it being opened. Probably not the wisest choice, thinking of how he had the biggest target in all of Tamriel on his head - but in this snow and cold, approaching the Cloud Ruler Temple without being spotted was impossible. Martin helped her out of her coat, hanging the soaking wet cloth over a chair close by. “I have some leftovers for you. Jauffre tried his hand at making soup, and it was amazing. I didn’t want you to miss out on it.”

And it was. Sitting by the fire next to Martin, the fire, the soup, the closeness to the new emperor…it all warmed her up rather quickly. “Say, my friend, you went down to Burma in this weather? Why?”

She turned around, pointing to the bags she had placed next to a door. “Check them out. I bought some extra potions, and something for you, Martin. I would show you the things myself, but it still cannot feel my toes.”

Martin raised an eyebrow as he stood up, making his way to the burlap bags she had pointed to. In one were several potions, ranking from healing potions to poison, to one that’d paralyze the target. “That’ll come in handy someday soon.”, he said as he neatly put the glasses out of the bag, carefully putting them on the shelf next to him. The second bag were various vegetables and some meat, and hidden deep inside… 

“Two sweetrolls?” “For you and me. You said you were craving it a few days ago, so I thought…” “You are the most amazing person I have ever met.” “Did you check the last bag?” “No.” “Do it.”

Thankfully, Martin wasn’t facing her, otherwise he would have noticed the steam coming from her, how her skin was burning hot, how she was hoping he’d like what she had gotten him. All she could do was fidge with the seam of her shirt as she was listening to him unpacking the bag. And she thanked all the Gods out there that they were the only ones left in the room, everyone else either on duty or in their chambers.

Martin’s eyes got wide when he realized what she had brought back - two blankets, two pillows. The quality was out of this world, soft and warm, filled with feathers from the rarest birds. “Where did you get this?”, Martin couldn’t believe his eyes, the softness under his fingers, holding as if they were to melt. He wasn’t bedded in satin during his life.

“I called in a favour.”, she said, finally having enough grip on herself again to face Martin. The amazement was written across his face, holding the blanket up to show her. “A favour? Do I even want to know?” “It’s best for me to know and for you to never find out.” “You have friends in strange places.” “So will you have it soon, Emperor.” “Stop calling me that, I’m still Martin for you and will always be.” “Of course, Martin.”

And they both couldn’t help themselves, giving the other the biggest smile possible. “It is gonna be cold tonight. Are you prepared?” “Of course Martin, I have ample clothing to wear, and in case it still gets too cold, I’ll set some of the furniture on fire.” “Jauffre will kill you if he finds out.” “That’s, of course, a fair concern.” “I have a fireplace in my room in case you seek warmth.”

Oh, of course she did.

♥

Wearing two sets of clothing couldn’t keep the cold outside. The Cloud Ruler Temple felt like a crypt, freezing everyone in its halls. The storm outside made trees fall down, the sound of their cracking could be heard all the way into the walls of the Temple. And of course, she couldn’t sleep, like so many nights. What did Martin say? If she seeked warmth, she could find shelter in his room? The offer was tempting, and in this very moment, the need for warmth, security and the desire to have a feeling in her toes again overwhelmed her. On silent feet, she made her way into the chambers of the Emperor, dragging her blanket and pillow with her. From previous peeks into his chambers, she knew the bed was big enough for two.

“Martin?”, she whispered into the room upon opening it. To her great luck, the Emperor was still awake. Not situated near the fireplace, but wrapped in his new blanket, cozy and a bit warmer. A candle on his nightstand illuminated just enough of the room for him to read. “Good evening, how are you?” “I am coming back to indulge on your offer. I cannot put it into words how freezing cold the room I am staying in is.” “That’s alright. Come here and close the door.”

And that’s what she did, closing the door and hushing over to the Emperor despite her stiff limbs. The bedding was warm and comfortable, so much better than the futons they were sleeping in. Something that lessened her back pain for once, strained from carrying the weight of this world on her shoulders. “Thank you.”, she said as she made herself comfortable next to Martin, trying not to be too close to him.

Martin closed the book with the bookmark, just how he did the day before, and turned to her. “If it helps you sleep better, you may of course come closer.”, he said - his red face betrayed him and his calm voice just this little bit shaky. “That’d be very kind of you, thank you.”

Martin’s arms were warm and comfortable. In this very moment, the world seemed alright, the snowstorm outside did not matter, the gates of Oblivion seemed to be shut for just a moment. He smelt like old books, the temple and the soap they used to wash themselves every night. For a moment, the world seemed okay. And for a moment, their flushed faces didn’t matter, the awkward silence didn’t matter, it was just them, for this short eternity.

[kairiscorner]

Hi precious🫶🏻

Love your story’s btw💕

I would like to request a scenario where someone is bad mouthing reader (out of jealousy or smt else u decide). While Miguel is hearing EVERYTHING, that is said abt his wifey. Whatever happens next is up to you darling.🫶🏻

Don’t feel pushed to write abt something u don’t feel comfortable with💕

OH MY GOD, SURE THINGGGGGG and THANK YOU SO MUCH ??? I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS TOO !!

not another word. — miguel o'hara x wife!fem!reader

his back muscles tensed up and his nostrils flared as he huffed and puffed, his eyebrows knitting together in a furious look that tried his damn hardest to remain calm. he could not, for the words he was hearing from the so-called 'friendly colleagues' you invited to have dinner at your place were laughing and muttering to themselves under their breaths how naïve you appeared–how you looked so young and stupid, that they were shocked that an 'pretty little airhead' like you became their 'respected' colleague.

"she's got a pretty face, sure, but have you seen how much of a kltuzy butterfingered little thing she is?"

"right? watch out for her, she might woo your husband away from you with that insipid little grin of hers that just makes me want to..."

"she's so annoying, she always keeps offering me her shitty treats that nobody wants–i'm surprised she even has a husband, no one in the right mind would put up with her."

your colleagues laughed amongst themselves as they kept insulting you and calling you names behind your back; you left the living room to get them some of the goodies you baked for them that you took so long trying to figure out how to make them and actually baking them up. you were anxious this whole time if they'd like it or not, but little did you know they were already dreading to taste what you made, not caring how much effort and thought you put into making these treats–and that angered miguel, very, very much.

he tried to calm himself down and remind himself that this was your gathering, he was just going to mind his own business and let you be happy. but he can't be happy if he knows that your colleagues right there that feigned a welcoming aura and a friendly demeanor towards you didn't like you, and all for the stupidest, worst reasons he had ever heard come out of another person's mouth. miguel had enough, he was going to teach them just what happens when they insult his darling little wife one more time.

"then i guess i'm not in my right mind for wanting to stay with her," miguel said in a low, intimidating voice that made all your colleagues tense up in their seats and turn their heads to look at your husband with pursed lips. miguel looked down at them with an angry glare, with hints of a furious red in his pupils. he looked everyone down one by one and noticed they were all frightened of him–good. "but i don't really care if i'm 'not in my right mind' for loving the most perfect woman in the world, i'm not in my right mind–i'm living the best life i can and that's with her." he said as his voice softened at that latter part, thinking fondly of you amidst his anger towards these horrible colleagues who dare take your kindness and generosity for granted.

miguel sighed and furrowed his eyebrows again. "i don't give a damn about who any of you people are, how much you make, or what my wife thinks of you all–which, believe me, is a far kinder judgement than anyone would have of such mundane, cynical people–i will break every bone in your bodies and make you all beg for forgiveness and grovel at my wife's feet if i hear another lick on an insult get spewed out by those disgusting mouths of yours."

miguel spoke that threat with a low growl in his voice, he was becoming a little more feral, which he promised to you he'd keep under control, but he couldn't in this situation–he couldn't stand idly by and let you be insulted by these morons; he can't help his emotions sometimes, but believe him when he says he's tried his damn hardest to hold back on getting even angrier on these colleagues of yours that couldn't even acknowledge you were a sincerely kind soul that just wanted to make others happy.

you soon emerged from the kitchen with a gleeful smile, carrying the delicious treats you made for your ungrateful colleagues. the moment you saw them, they all looked spooked; as if they witnessed dracula or somebody just say he was going to suck the blood out of them all and turn them into human prunes. you chuckled nervously, asking them what was wrong, with miguel standing up from his seat–giving your colleagues a glare of warning–and kissing you sweetly on the lips in surprise and muttering in soft voice, "nothing's wrong, querida. oh, my favorites–i'll have to thank you with something else you like later, hmm?" he offered as he wrapped his arm around your waist, making you all flustered and shy as you tried to remind him you two had guests over. "we can always kick them out, nena, it's fine... let me hold you just a little longer." he whispered in your ear as your colleagues gulped and tried smiling up at you and praising your treats, about how good they look and smelled, how tasty they must be–making you smile wider at the sudden compliments you were getting.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

despite the happiness you thought you were bringing your colleagues, miguel desperately wanted you to know that you don't need to make others happy... you've already make him happy since day one and he's been happier and happier with you ever since that day.

[soaps-mohawk]

Hehehe thank you for giving me the permission to yap. Idk how long this will end up being so grab a snack to read-

(and to my ask before. I agree with you. I was close to rage quitting SO MUCH but then I'd cry cause I didn't want to loose where I was in the mission so I cried my way through it. Darn you Kyle for falling out of that plane... and yes. I used youtube vids for the alone mission HELP)

Okaayyy my fic idea. Its possibly going to be a dystopien omegaverse fic, reader is a omega, Price and Ghost are alpha's and Soap and Gaz betas (I've always imagined them like that since reading ur fic, but i make them other things depending on the ship. and what the story is like. like nikprice, i oftern think of alpha x alpha or make John a omega heh)

So outline part 1 is, the worlds population has been greatly plumeting, since the old goverment wasnt strict as the new one. The new goverment takes over, and builds a intitute that forces omegas into it as soon as they present to teach them to be the 'perfect omega'. its one of those VERY messed up places, like the guards or workers dont give a damn, they get no help and are brainwashed to not tell anyone abt how it works. (This was one of the parts where i was scared it was close to urs, thats why im yapping now so if u think its too close u can scold me and tell me to think of smt else LOL)

As soon as omega's hit 18, they are sent out into a pack or with an alpha. betas can join a waiting list, but alphas get priority. Now, when the rest of the task force was offered, they declined. But poor Johnny just wanted his own lass, he didn't think it'd be bad. so he joins the waiting list, and ends up getting reader. And well the rest arent happy cause now they gotta help look after this traumatised lil thing.

What i was thinking, Johnny has never had a omega, because of the intitute and goverment. So he has no proper idea on how to care for an omegas needs, like heats and everything. so he ends up getting the rest of the team to slowly help (it overtime becomes a poly relationship) but as reader feels safer, she ends up feeling safe enough to talk about what happened in the institute (cause whos gonna come after a military pack, they're protecting her?!)

but ofc, the goverment finds out and like nup they aint having that, and they take her back. (this is sometime idk when) but they all end up turning against the whole goverment and yada yada. Theres prob A LOT i would change so far and add, but I havent gotten that in depth yet.

do u think thats too simular to CRCB... idk I was thinking about it once then i remember oh crap thats sounding a lil familiar- part of the reason i wanted to tell you abt it, also just bc i wanted to yap abt it bc if i end up writing/changing it its just rlly interesting. you dont veen gotta answer this if its too close just msg me and scold me HELP-

anyway ill stop my yapping before it turns into a novel.

Reminder to get a drink and a snack, I hope you can get plenty of rest <3 (apologies for any spelling mistakes, I'm half asleep and couldn't be entirely bothered to reread and Im just praying it makes sense. Grammarly dont like me)

I think that's a great idea!! Very unique!! I'm glad I could inspire you to write your own fic and I don't mind the similar ideas. (So long as credit is given where credit is due)

[yingfelis]

Hello hello~ I found your account by tags with Senti. And you have no idea, this is a breath of fresh air for me - an author who writes my favorite character.

If you don't mind, can I ask for something at your discretion with the reader who is in a relationship with Fu Hua and Senti? Together at the same time. Just imagining going to Hua's Bird Farm or something else...

Sorry for my bad English. Thanks if you noticed, have a nice day~

Double Trouble

Glad you have found my account!! I love all the Honkai characters so much and love writing for them since barely anyone else will

Fu Hua x Reader x Senti

God, lemme just say, good luck if you get into a relationship with those two

Lots of teasing in the relationship. 95% of is coming from Senti.

Senti is such a big baby too, like she’ll complain and beg for you and Hua’s attention but when she actually gets such loving affection from you guys she’ll melt and get all flustered

Hua is a bit clueless when it comes to certain things but she’s doing her best. She does a lot of acts of service though, it’s one of her favorite ways to show love.

Cuddle piles in bed. Senti either spreading on top of you guys, pulling you and Hua in, or spooning. Each of you alternating between little and big spoons

Pet chickens. To no one’s surprise. Senti is probably chasing them around for fun while Fu Hua is checking for their next feeding time or smt

Dates are also really fun since it’s basically a Russian roulette on what’s gonna be planed and what’s gonna happen

From quiet dates in a cafe to an entire day spent at a festival and… kicking some bad guy/honkai asses somehow. It’s always a fun experience and it’s even better to go home and cuddle up to relax

Honestly there’s almost never a dual moment with you guys however on the off chances where there are, just being in the presence of two of your most favorite people is enough.

[killersfool]

hiiii i’ve a wee fluff imagine idea for bobby!! : )

bobby and the reader live together in a flat in dublin and the reader goes to trinity uni to study english literature (or smt else that has like a lot of reading and essay writing anol that craic) and she’s falling behind in a lot of her assignments and it’s all piling up and she’s just all overwhelmed and doesn’t know how to cope.

she ends up breaking down into sobs or shutting down at random points in the day due to stress and rob hasn’t got a clue what’s wrong and keeps noticing these random break downs throughout the week.

basically he comforts reader and helps to organise herself and just all fluffy cute comfort fic <333

If I could flip back time, bend the seconds and go back three years ago, I would do it right now.

Pile after pile of flashcards, annotated books with pastel post-it notes shooting out of the sides, folders of Irish poetry I can hardly understand, tattered photocopies of Hozier lyrics, every work of Shakespeare staring at me from my overcrowded booksheld — dusty, messy, probably even dank. Miss Carter has decided to set three more assignments onto my workload for the week. An essay on crime fiction (I haven't even read the first book on the reading list), my creative writing portfolio and then another essay analysing a piece poetry of my choice. Reading and highlighting Hozier's lyrics of 'I, Carrion (Icarian)' is the only thing keeping me going. Phoebe Bridgers blasts through my ears. It's quarter to 11. I need a break. An early night would be nice. Or TV. But do I really want to sit next to Robert whilst he watches his weird YouTube videos?

I kick my table. Not out of anger. Not out of irritation. I just want to see all of my notes topple ontp the floor. They do. Then I'm kicking the table three more times. Or maybe eight. All my flashcards are on the carpeted  floor, next to my discarded, empty packet of pinballs. I'd stolen them from Robert's stash. He'll never find out.

Climbing over my pile of unread books by my doorway, I push open the door. It squeaks. Some oiling would be nice. Trinity college really provides the best for their students! 

I still wish my roommate was also doing English, someone to bond with over shared trauma, to gossip about our nightmarish teachers and fellow students. But no, this guy is doing a degree in bloody mathematics. The complete dichotomy of English. No similarities. No way of comparing the courses to eachother. Him and his terrifying videos that he watches with his shoes up on the armrest, cheek in his open palm, drinking a cup of tea. Like it's that simple. Numbers and sin, cos, tan and circle theorems and whatever tragic nonsense is being spouted in his lectures.

He hardly speaks to me. Three years together and I barely know him. Sometimes I tag along with him when he goes out for breakfast. Once every two weeks. Sunday morning. We talk about school, about friends, about anything that pops in our heads. Yesterday we spoke about music. He originally wanted to pursue a career in music. A band. But they didn't work out. He took a gap year to pursue this group. So he's a year older than all of the other third years. He doesn't let that faze him. When he told me stories about his band, 'Inhaler', I had to lose eye contact, look down at the pink marshmellos floating about in my cup. He looked lost. This wasn't the place for him. He missed the confidence upon stage, the ability of making something out of nothing. Life is unfair. That is when I realised it. Hearing about shattered dreams and names of songs that were never produced.

I also realise life is unfair right now, as I accidentally bang my hip onto the kicthen island, the knife-like corner lodging itself into my skin. It's like the world is against me. 

Sometimes I wonder if Robert thinks I'm an idiot. I feel like I'm an idiot when I walk past his bedroom, hunched over his laptop, headphones on as he works through the most difficult maths questions I've ever encountered in my life. He makes university seem easy. Has his allocated times for study, going out with friends, the gym, practicing bass, going though record shops, meals, watching TV. Everytime he gets home, he drops his things down in the kitchen. I sneak a glance at the big green 'A*' on all of his test papers. I look up to him. His intelligence, his masterful management of time. I'm always too frightened to ask him how he does it. He'll think I'm stalking him. 

Me, on the other hand, I waste time. I don't have balance. I never have time to be with my friends. Always locked up in my room. A prisoner. Essay after essay. Poem after poem. Book after book. A constant cycle I've been in for three whole years. The stress is weighing down on me like a hundred bags of bricks. I need to stop for a second. To breathe in. To calm down.

So I do the last thing I would normally do. I go into the living room and sit beside Robert on the sofa. He's half asleep, jeans cuffed, hair all over his face. He sees me walk in, glances up, eyes big and speculting. He instantly moves his spindly, spider-like legs from the armrest to give me some space. I can hear some sort of maths video playing on the TV. I'm scared. At least it's not English. I'm immune to maths. It doesn't affect me anymore. Whatever logorhythmic scale this American YouTube man is yapping about isn't making my face contort at all — it's like sorcery.

This could be a way of winding down. Maths. I'm calmer now. No changes of focus or narrowing of perspective. No pathetic fallacy or magical realism. Just messes of words that don't really make sense at all.

"'D'you want to watch TV? I can turn this off if you want." Robert has his thumb on the home button.

"Leave it on. I just need a moment."

He dubiously puts the remote back down. He yawns, stretching out his arms and leaning back. I hate it when boys do that. With his parted, manspreaded legs, adams apple bobbing, head rolled back. It's idiotic. Completely idiotic. He doesn't seem too intrigued by Mr American man. The video is a guy next to a whiteboard writing millions of brain-numbing equtions. Robert is nodding along. I think I'm going to cry. I don't know why I want to right now. My hip is actually starting to throb and ache. I look down at my jeans. There's a hole in them. There's blood. It's wet. I hadn't noticed before. It's properly pouring out blood.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I exclaim, hand pressing down onto the cut through my jeans.

Robert swiftly nears me. He's looking at me up and down, hands trying to find a place to move to. It's dark in the room. He reaches for the lamp switch. "What is it? Are you okay?"

"I'm bleeding. Jesus christ. That kills. Fuck me."

He passes me his jacket and says, "Apply some pressure." 

Then he runs out of the room. Fast as a plane. A man on a mission. Long curls dancing to the rhythm of his steps. Mr American man won't shut up about algebraic expressions. He's got a really bald head. Glimmering. 

Robert is back. He has bandages. I don't know where he got those from. Antiseptic wipes, plasters, sweets, even a cup of tea. He was only gone for about five seconds. How did he manage to get all of that? He hands me the cup of tea and sweets whilst asking, "What happened?"

"I walked into the island like an eejit. I'm so feckin' stupid."

"Just breathe, okay. You're not an eejit. I do that every day." 

I have to unzip my jeans to let him check the cut. Which is awkward, to say the least. He's looking at me like a doctor — not really caring about seeing my skin — but I'm still so shy around him. He sees me struggle with the button. He undoes it, fingers coming in contact with mine. They're slender. So very perfect for the bass guitar. Then he's unzipping my jeans. Only the tiniest bit. A mere centimetre of my knickers appear out of the top. Any more than that and I'd be flush as a tomato. I've always had a little crush on Robert. Being stuck with a really smart bass guitarist with the dreamiest eyes for three years is enough to make a person fall. The reason I've been avoiding him lately has been due to that fact. I don't want to make it obvious.

He finds the cut. It's bled through my knickers, making a big blot of dark red. He pulls down the waistband of my pants, prepared to wipe the wound. I have to grind my teeth together to prevent a sob from escaping me. I'm crying. Stressed and hurt and just wanting to dissolve into nothing. The cold draft of wind isn't improving the situation. If only there was no such thing as coursework and I couldn't glide my way through university like Robert. 

More and more blood. I think I might pass out. The blue-eyed boy is knelt down on the floor, knees biting into the carpet so that he can properly see where to put the bandage. 

"So how's English going?" He's not looking at me. Only at the wound. I don't think he's noticed that I'm crying. I don't want him to. I cover my face with bloody hands, accidentally smearing the metallic substance onto my nose. 

I don't know what to say. Do I tell him how much I regret picking it? Do I make this already awkward situation about ten times worse? I hate when people pity me. I hate when I feel like eyes are lingering for far too long when I cry. But when Robert looks at me, it's different. The pools of serenity circling his iris aren't looking down at me with a sort of aristocracy. That's how my English peers stare me down. No, instead, he's looking at me like there's a billion questions rushing across his forehead. He just needs to decide which one to ask. Or to simply say nothing. Like I am. We've both learnt how to cohabit in silence. To walk past eachother and ignore the feathers of conversation falling between us. We're busy. Always busy. Except for those perfect Monday mornings that I always look forward to. Especially the one time when he showed me around his favourite record store. He had asked me to choose him a record to buy. I walked through the entire shop, fingers shifting records, reading unfamiliar artist names. Then, I saw it, the — now bane of my existence — Hozier's 'unreal unearth'. He bought it. He'd told me he only really knew 'Take Me To Church'. I'd leant against the till as he paid and said, 'it'll change your life.' Then he'd locked himself in his room. Through the ever so thin walls — paper thin — I could hear each track hum into my room. I never got the chance to talk to him about the album. I think the thought of bringing it up made me feel sick — due to the English essay upstairs still waiting patiently to be finished.

Now there is an excuse. To talk. I'm injured. I don't want to move. He's still attempting to wrap a bandage over my stomach, then across my back until it's around my torso. I feel his fingers graze my skin with every subtle movement, along my spine, the small of my back, my abdomen, my hip bone. He's still looking at me. Searching. Like I'm a new island and he's an explorer trying to name me.

"What's up, sweetheart?" He finally talks again. His words are throaty, emananting from the pits of his throat. He's still wrapping, waiting for an answer.

"Just college. You know. It's killing me."

He shakes his head. "You're so smart."

"Says you."

He shakes his head. "Look, this might be a bit weird but sometimes when you leave random essays lying around or even creative writing. I read them. They're incredible. Your mind just works in such an interesting way."

I'm at a loss for words. He reads those? Those are usually just failed attempts that I toss aside. Scrap paper. Strange drawings. I don't even want to look at them.

"You get top grades in every test," I sigh. "I'm barely passing. I'm the worst in the class. My professors hate me, I've got so much work, I'm falling behind in every assignment—"

Then I'm properly crying. Sobbing. Breathing so heavily I think I might collapse. Heaving. Sniffling. Covering my face so he can't see me. I'm like a child. Pathetic. Stupid. Worthless. I was never good enough for Trinity. Why did they let me in?

Warm arms, press of skin. Just above the wound, over my chest, arms dig into my body, hugging me from behind. Head burrowing onto my shoulders, knees into the sofa. His lips ghost the back of my neck. Tears are falling down. He turns me around to face him. I hate how he's seeing me like this. My cries are usually saved for when he's out with friends or blasting music on his record player. He's never seen me this vulnerable, just utterly ripped into shreds by the hands of life. His scent is making me feel better, the tissue now on my cheek makes me feel better, the quiet words of 'breathe, let it all out, it's okay' make me feel better. He's calming me down. I start to forget what I was even crying about when I look into his eyes. This intense eye contact. Remembering his height. Even sat down, his torso is far longer than mine.

"I've got an idea," he murmurs, peeling his body away. I miss the warmth. I miss the touch. 

"What is it?"

"We should go somewhere. Get out for a bit. Say it's a 'mental health field trip'." He curls his fingers to accentuate the apostrophes."Maybe down to the Cliffs of Moher. When you're all healed up of course."

"Give me a week."

"A week? I'll be the judge of that." He raises an eyebrow, now tying up the bandage.

"Where did you learn all this?"

"I'm actually first aid trained. Did it in my first week of uni." He takes a deep breath, settles back onto the sofa. 

I take a sip of my tea. My eyes are surely blotchy and red. I bet there's mascara all over my face. "Thank you so much."

"No problem at all. Do you want to tell me what's going on? Is there any way I can help?" He's referring to my school work. "I was alright at English in high school. No where near as good as you are. But maybe another opinion might help you."

"I'm really stuck on a Hozier analysis."

"I never told you how much I love that album. It's perfect." His eyes glow like they do when he's talking about something he loves. Usually it's caused by talking about playing bass, but right now it's due to the beauty of Hozier's music. "I learned the bass line of De Selby part two."

"Show me. Now." I don't even ask. It's simply a demand. Anything to take my mind away from that cut still bleeding profusely. A little concert would be nice. Especially if said concert involves watching Robert play bass. I sometimes peek through the crack in the doorway to see him sat down on his bed, pick between his index and thumb, bass guitar on his lap, headphones over his ears. The pure concentration on his face is unparalleled. Notes thrum quietly through the room. He falls into any piece of music.

"Alright." He laughs at my enthusiasm. "Then I'll help with your English."

"Thanks." This is probably the most I've ever spoken to him. I'm mumbling each word, not wanting to look into his eyes.

He disappears once again. This time I hear the thudding footsteps over creaky floorboards. I hear a door squeak open, the faint patter of rain upon the ceiling, the quiet murmur of distant sirens as night blooms. It's tranquil. For a moment, I'm at peace. Until I remember the stack of unread books in my bedroom. I groan into my hands. Everything just keeps getting worse and worse and—

He's back. Not empty handed. Bass in one hand, Hozier lyrics and my pencil case in the other.

"I emailed your professor about the trip. I'm sure she'll be okay with it." He's off again. He comes through the door with his amp and lead. He plugs both in. 

"You're a life saver, Rob," I say.

He starts twisting around the knobs on the bass. Volume up. Then he's tuning. He smiles up at me. I think I'm staring. I think he can tell. His long fingers, tattoos, rings. It's all too much. My fingers are restlessly tapping the armrest. My legs are up on the coffee table. He pulls out his phone and plays the song. Then I'm lost in the music. His eyes are closed as he slides his fingers up and down the neck of the bass, as he stomps his feet down on the carpet to every drum beat. If only I could go back to the days I'd go to concerts every day. If only I could go back and see 'Inhaler' on a world tour, watch Robert from the crowd, completely in his element. Exhilarated, chanting, knowing every lyric like it's my mother tongue. Sometimes I wonder what life could've been like if the band had worked out. If the world did realise just how incredible they are. But, here, appreciating each pluck of every string, the grin as he watches me. I can't take that for granted. 

[thegamingcatmom]

Helloooo, you asked for RE village asks.

What kinda pampering do you think Miranda likes? (Especially from an s/o)

I think she'd like having her wings massaged but only if she really trusts the other person.

YES HI HELLO

I meant to answer you right away, but then I got distracted writing a lil smt about Miranda and her housewi-I mean assistant. It´s a one-shot, so it shouldn´t take all too long to finish, hopefully. 🤭

...And then I got distracted writing a lil smt about Miri the Workaholic, which you will find further down. 🤭

SPEAKING OF-

(Someone´s very much looking forward to this one...)

First of: It is crucial to understand that I view Miranda as a rather...practical being. She´s not big into all that lovey-dovey stuff, simply because she prefers getting straight to the point. Everything else is a waste of time in her opinion, and while she does technically have all the time in the world (perks of being immortal), she quite lacks the patience for it.

Besides, she´s a workaholic. Ynow what has her undead heart soaring? Seeing her papers neatly organized in separate stacks. Bonus points if they´re labeled. 😩🤌

So, when it comes to actual pampering (as in: things you do to her), what immediately comes to mind is preening because that actually has a use, yknow what I´m saying? Yknow, plucking those loose feathers (gently, if you know what´s good for you), and keeping the good ones nice and clean. That may or may not include a bath.

(She does quite enjoy those, it has to be said. With or without feathers...)

But yeah, it´s not so much about what you can do to her, and more what you can do for her. (That also includes looking pretty for her btw.) Therefore-

Pampering Birb Momma would include:

keeping her lab nice and clean

just like her feathers

taking notes for her so she can do other stuff in the meantime (she´s a sucker for proper time management)

keeping her jewelry spotless (mask, handchains, etc.)

handing her tools, adjusting the light, anything she might need when she experiments on someone (that one might get a satisfied smile out of her)

awaiting/welcoming her when she gets home like a good little waifu

that will do wonders for her mood, especially when she´s had a rather tiring day with her "children"

bonus if you´re wearing an apron (they just...do smt to her, it´s all about that domestic stuff I´m telling ya)

polishing her cutlery (she has no use for it, but she loves shiny things)

(...she´s part bird yall, cmon)

luring ppl into her lab for her to experiment on so she can take care of other things in the meantime (it´s all about that time management, ppl)

bonus if you wrap them up like a present, bow and all

that will actually get a laugh out of her

(Miri has a rather dark humor)

applying her makeup (not that she´d ever admit it, but...that one drives her wild)

So ye, any kind of pampering is more related to how you can help her with her work because that IS all she does, basically. That´s what she lives for. However-

She could be persuaded into taking a break now and again. Perhaps. If you ask real nicely. Apron and all.

What I´m saying is: Don´t use words. She´s not listening anyway because she´s already knuckle-deep in her next specimen, mumbling to herself as if possessed. If you wanna get her attention, you have to demand it. Be the aggressor, yknow?

...Meaning:

HOW TO APPROACH A WORKING BIRB MOMMA 101:

(Participate at your own peril.)

Start by grazing the tips of your fingers against the feathers located at the very edge of her wings - known as the primary feathers. Go nice and slow, so as not to spook her. (Failing to do so could result in fatal consequences.) A light ruffling of wings or a flitting of eyes in your direction typically means your touch has been accepted. (Should you find yourself faced with neither of those things, don´t let that deter you! You´re still standing, which means your presence is tolerated regardless.) Proceed with firm but gentle precision as you slowly work your way to the base of her wings. You may apply slight pressure here and there, but make sure to keep your eyes trained on her face and posture at all times to avoid missing any signs of discomfort or unease. (Failing to do so could result in fatal consequences.)

Those signs could include:

a furrowing of eyebrows

a twitching of her jaw (typically a result of chattering)

a puffed up chest

a sudden and strong ruffling of wings, usually accompanied by a puffed up chest (a defense mechanism to appear bigger and more threatening)

a strong release of air through mouth or nose (resembling a hiss)

a low humming sound (resembling a growl)

in extreme cases: loud, harsh squawking or screaming

Body language is a primary form of communication for many species, and knowing hers is essential for survival.

By now, you should have reached the feathers located midway between the base and the outer wings - known as the secondary feathers. Those are more sensitive to the touch, so start by softly running your fingers along the plumage towards the base - your goal. Now, the same strategy applies: Be on the lookout for any signs of discomfort or unease as you move along. (Failing to do so could result in fatal consequences.) If you find neither of the aforementioned signs, you may also try and slip your fingers between the feathers. As those are more sensitive, your touch might evoke a stronger reaction, such as a violent twitch or a strong ruffling of wings. If that happens and it is not accompanied by a puffed up chest: don´t.panic. It is vital to understand that this isn´t a sign of discomfort, and showing fear or hesitation in such a moment could trigger a fight or flight response. Given the nature of her species, fight is the more likely reaction. (Which will most likely result in fatal consequences.)

This is why I cannot stress this enough: understanding her body language is crucial.

If you´re able to read this: good job! You´ve made it to the base - known as the tertiary feathers. Those are the most sensitive, so it is strongly advised to proceed with caution. (Failing to do so could result in fatal consequences.) If any pressure is being applied at this point, lessen it until the mere tips of your fingers are resting against the feathery coat. Due to the sensitivity of that area, you might notice a slight tremor - let it guide you! Tremors are a telltale sign of victory, so continue feeling for more as you draw closer to where wing and body meet. The trembling might become increasingly more violent the closer you get, so don´t let that deter you. On the contrary: you´re nearly there, so keep pushing forward! (Failing to do so could result in fatal consequences.)

You will know you have reached the spot when her wings begin to droop, as if gravity is gently pulling at them. Once that state has been achieved, initiate the ultimate checkmate by dancing your fingers along her spine - pressure optional. Proceed to watch in a mix of awe and self-satisfaction as her head tilts back and her eyes begin to close in complete and utter bliss. If you listen very closely, you might be able to perceive a low humming sound.

Got you.

Your hand finds purchase on her shoulder, but before you can apply the slightest pressure, she yields, sinking into the chair behind her with an irritated sigh that more resembles a hiss.

Someone´s angry.

If there is one thing she detests more than failures, it is resting when she could be doing something instead.

You saunter around the chair with a little more sway to your hips than usual before claiming all the space her lap provides to make sure she stays resting. Her muscles ripple beneath you, and you choose to ignore the fact she holds enough power to obliberate armies.

If she wanted to, she could throw you off with a mere flick of her wrist. But, alas...

Her icy blue eyes glint dangerously as she opts to stare at you with a mix of resentment and irritation, eyebrows furrowed and full lips flattened into a thin line. In fact, her gaze is so vicious that you almost believe she wants nothing more than for you to drop dead on the spot.

Almost.

If it weren´t for the fact her arms had wrapped around you as soon as you sat down.

"And what, pray tell, do you think you´re doing?"

How she manages to sound calm despite the storm clearly raging within her never ceases to amaze you. It used to terrify you.

A long time ago.

"Sitting," you reply with feigned innocence, even going so far as to throw your arms around her shoulders as far as the halo adorning her back would let you to settle in further.

"I see that."

...

"Cool."

Conversations with her are always so fulfilling.

"Why?"

Ah, there it is.

"...Why what?"

You can´t help it. Pushing buttons and testing boundaries has become your favorite way to pass the time. You blame the endless spiral of cleaning, and cleaning, and some more cleaning. You get that you have to contribute something, but your mind craves stimulation.

Hence you being a massive pain in her ass from time to time.

"Dove..."

Sigh.

She´s no fun when she has the patience of a boiling pot.

"You work too much…" you admit meekly, avoiding her piercing gaze as your fingers gently bury into the feathers closest to them.

"I wasn´t aware this was for you to decide."

Fair point.

"Well..." you sigh dramatically, making no move to untangle yourself. "If my presence causes such pain and misery for you, then I guess you can always just...let me go?"

Both of you are aware that you aren´t merely talking about her arms currently wrapped around you. They tighten their hold at the mere mention, causing you to risk a peek.

...

It takes everything in you to keep from grinning like the Cheshire Cat as the fold between her eyebrows deepens and the glint in her eyes transforms into an ominous glow.

Got you.

Again.

With slow and deliberate movements, your right hand shifts from the feathery prison of its own making to her face, where your index finger begins to smooth out the persistent crease between her eyebrows with gentle precision.

"I´m bored," you whine, uncaring of the fact you sound like a petulant child.

Now it´s her turn to let out the most dramatic sigh in history. "I´ve given you tasks-"

"Yeah, cleaning. Which I´ve done, by the way. Everything´s spotless."

A moment of tense silence passes.

"Don´t interrupt me, little bird."

Sometimes, you forget that she still scares you. And then you go and do something stupid.

Like interrupting her.

"...Sorry," you mumble, your finger trailing down the bridge of her nose, focusing on how perfect her skin is rather than acknowledging the weight of her judging gaze.

Another sigh fills the air before her hand catches your wrist, stopping your fidgeting and drawing your attention back to her words.

"As I´ve said..." she emphasizes, throwing you a pointed look that makes you want to go back to admiring her flawless skin. "I´ve given you tasks. Tasks that go beyond cleaning, as you well know."

You do know. And you’ve tried your damnest to avoid them since she gave them to you weeks ago.

"I...I don´t wanna..." you admit meekly before letting your gaze drift down to her necklace.

Her chest rises, lifting you slightly as she takes a deep breath - probably to keep herself from tearing your head off in sheer frustration over discussing this topic at least once a day.

You brace yourself for the worst, as always.

...

But it never comes, as always.

Instead, a finger rests against the underside of your chin, applying slight pressure to force you to meet her gaze.

It´s not the all-consuming fury you expected, nor the silent judgement you had grown accustomed to. Instead, it´s something far worse:

Disappointment.

"You don´t wanna?" she mocks you, the crease you fought hard to smooth out now back in full force as her eyebrows furrow in irritation. "Are you truly so selfish to deny me? To deny The Black God? We all must make our sacrifices, little crow. I have told you this time and time again, and I am tiring of this conversation. My patience is but a flicker, and you have long since extinguished it."

And yet, it's been weeks since she tasked you with the ultimate betrayal.

Or the ultimate proof of devotion, in her eyes.

"...Sacrifices?" you echo in disbelief, the temper you fight so hard to contain in her presence starting to rear its ugly head. "You´re asking me to send innocent people straight to their doom! People I´ve known my entire life! People I love!

You try to break free from her grasp, fully intending to storm to your room, lock the door, and remain there for the rest of the day.

You barely manage to stand before her arm shoots up, forcing you back down as it curls around you in a vice-like grip. You begin to thrash and push against her, but her other hand surges up to seize your throat in a firm hold, yanking you back towards her in one swift movement.

Her hold doesn´t hurt much, but it serves as a reminder that it could.

"Was it not you who wished for variety?" she hisses, her breath hot against your cheek. "Was it not you who wailed about setting foot outside again? Was it not you who wept for those pests to quench your thirst for companionship?"

Her grip tightens at that, reminding you of her possessive nature. She doesn´t show it often, but you know it´s there - lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

"That is what is due," she snarls. "That is your sacrifice."

She releases your throat, but her arm remains firmly wrapped around you. You feel her piercing gaze drilling holes into the side of your head, daring you to oppose her again.

You say nothing in response as you keep your eyes trained on a speck of dust on the floor that you somehow missed, stubbornly refusing to meet her gaze. You know how much she despises that.

Being ignored, that is.

"Perhaps I´ve made a grave mistake by placing my faith in you, hm?" she continues in a low hum, trailing the back of her finger along your cheek. "Perhaps it would serve me better to have you strapped to my table? Transformed into my next specimen? Perhaps then you will discover a sense of gratitude for the position I´ve so generously offered you."

It´s not the first time she´s playing that card - trying to bend you to her will by threatening to make good on the promise she made all those months ago, when you first stepped out of line. Maybe that´s why, instead of fearing for your life as you probably should, all you feel is exhaustion.

You refrain from opening that can of worms, however. Despite all evidence to the contrary, you´re not that stupid.

Just like you refrain from addressing the fact that you were never really offered anything. An offer implies having a choice.

Instead, you continue to ignore her, your eyes idly scanning the floor for any more dust particles you might have missed. How can such a small space get dirty so quickly? It feels like once you’ve reached one end, you could start all over again. It´s ridicul-

A finger on your jaw interrupts your thoughts, turning your head to face her once more.

Her eyes are the only sign that you´re getting under her skin - that ominous glow is back.

"Don´t tempt me, dove..." she warns. "My tolerance for your perpetual insolence is tied solely to your more appealing qualities as a potential vessel, should I ever find myself out of options. Keep testing me, and that day might arrive sooner than you think."

You know you shouldn´t. You didn´t merely poke the bear today - you speared it. The best course of action now would be to keep your mouth shut, nod in humbled defeat, and hope you look convincing enough doing it.

But you´ve never been one to follow your own advice. If you were, you wouldn´t be stuck with the Devil today.

"...You think I´m appealing?"

...

There is a moment of silence.

And another.

And another.

The silence stretches on as you watch her watching you. Her eyes take their time mapping your face, scrutinizing every inch with a precision usually reserved for the unfortunate souls strapped to her table. You´ve yet to feel the hard wood pressing against your back or the cold leather cutting into your wrists and ankles, but you very much feel the raw power she radiates.

And then her eyes stop.

Her finger trails along your jaw towards your chin, where it lingers - tapping once, twice, thrice, as if considering something - before your jaw is seized between her pointer and thumb. She uses the hold to pull you closer, stopping only when the tip of your nose nearly brushes hers.

You can´t stop your eyes from mirroring hers as they dart down, fixating on her plush lips.

The breath catches in your throat.

"I think you have tasks to complete."

And just as quickly, it´s released again as you sink into her, your body deflating in a frustrating mix of relief and disappointment.

Only to feel disappointed in yourself for feeling disappointed in the first place.

And then you take the time to acknowledge her words, and a new wave of frustration washes over you. You know she won´t yield on the matter, but you can´t stop yourself from pushing it one last time.

"...Can´t I just...sacrifize a goat or two?" you sigh, fingers starting to fiddle with her necklace. A nervous habit of yours.

You´re surprised when, instead of finding yourself on the receiving end of one of her outbursts, a low, melodic chuckle reaches your ears. It´s a beautiful sound, and one you´ve managed to evoke only a handful of times since she bound you to her service.

You´re unable to stop the hope from blossoming in your chest-

"Insolent little bird..."

She says nothing more in response, and that hope wilts again like a dying flame.

This conversation is over.

With a heavy sigh, you release her necklace and begin the process of untangling yourself-

Her grip tightens.

You glance at her in confusion for a moment, taking in the slight curl of lips and the lidded eyes, before you realize-

They have yet to leave your lips.

The realization barely has time to settle before her thumb begins tracing your lower lip. Her touch is no more than a whisper, nearly prompting you recoil from the ticklish sensation.

Her icy blue eyes snap back up to yours then, keeping you rooted to the spot as her thumb continues to drive you mad.

It´s clear what she wants, but she makes it your responsibility to provide it. She always does.

Another way of proofing your devotion to her.

Your eyes stray downward in response and, at this point, you´re no longer ashamed to admit that the tantalizing sight clouds your mind almost instantly, pulling you in like a moth to a flame.

She always does.

Just before your lips brush hers, you´re hit with the compelling urge to seek out her gaze once more.

Her eyes are burning.

Then, suddenly, the world around you darkens, and your eyes just so manage to catch a glimpse of feathers before you´re plunged into total darkness.

Save for those burning eyes.

And then, you´re burning. Your lips have barely grazed hers before she´s consuming you, the restraint she´s shown until now discarded as she takes what is due.

...

It´s not the stimulation you had in mind, but you´re not about to complain. Lest she does make good on that promise...

At least you got her to stop working.

.

.

.

Any mistakes you might find: keep em. I was too lazy to read it back. 💀

Besides-

Since this will become the 1st part of (hopefully) many of my planned series (which is really just a way for me to indulge in my obsession for Birb Momma without having to worry too much about the plot), this version will probs undergo some tweaks and adjustments first before it´s released on ao3 too.

Hope to see yall there! 🐦‍⬛🖤

(The next part is already in the works. 🔥🤘)

.

THANKS A LOT FOR YOUR ASK! 💋

(Btw: I´ve been rewatching the part of Shadows of Rose where Rose meets Miranda to get some inspiration, and DUDE-

Miri´s eyes are positively crazy, I cant- 🫠❤️‍🔥

Also the way she breathes the words?? Yknow what I´m saying?? 😩🤌

Also also: TALL. 🫠)

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hiii I really like your writing I just read the dos and don'ts of requesting for you originally I was going to request smt like chansaw(Heather c + Veronica) comfort reader after a failed attempt but that falls under sh so I think smt else that would be cute and not angsty would be chansaw comfort reader after they get hurt or are sick and reader is being whiny and difficult.

I understand if you don't write this or get around to it I just thought it would be a nice request!

Love your workkk!!!

<3

Insufferably Alike

|| chansaw x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, sick reader, dissociation mention, vomit mentions

|| Summary; when reader's forced to go to school, Veronica notices how terrible they're feeling and takes action with Heather.

Requests open!

Started; June 13th

Finished; June 17th

~~~

Today was just not going your way. From the moment you woke up, you felt nauseated and just overall gross. Sure you had tried to ask your parents if you could stay home from school; but yours were the type that would say 'if it's not vomit, you're going'. Which lead to where you currently were.

Sitting in your first period class, head on your desk and nearly half asleep to the sound of you teacher droning on and on. What was he talking about now? Gravity or something, you didn't care. It all sounded like gibberish to you.

It wasn't until the bell finally rang did you snap out of your dissociative state. As you packed up your things, one of your girlfriends; Veronica Sawyer, walked up and placed a hand to your shoulder.

"Y/N?" Her tone was soft, full of concern. She'd been watching you the entire class, you looked like a mess. Though, unlike your other girlfriend Heather Chandler, Veronica was a little nicer. She spared you the trouble of knowing just how terrible you actually looked right now. It was obvious to anyone with a brain that you were feeling like complete shit.

You glanced behind yourself at her, offering a small, weak smile that only further proved her point. Veronica knew your real smiles and that... was far from it," hey, Roni." Even your voice sounded sick.

"Okay, I'm getting Heather and we're taking you home. No arguing," she added when she saw you about to protest and whine. You simply sighed and gave her a look, she rolled her eyes and grabbed your hand. Pulling you through the halls to find the Demon Queen.

Heather was hanging outside by the front of the school, sitting on one of the benches and talking to Heather D & Heather M. She was lost in conversation, so she didn't notice the two approach her until Veronica cleared her throat next to her.

"Oh, hey Veronica. Y/N." Heather looked at the two of you, then paused when she saw how pale you looked," shit, babe. You look like you just crawled out of a grave."

Veronica sighed, leave it to Heather to tell you how you look. You rolled your eyes and folded your arms across your chest, giving her a pout," gee, thanks. You're just full of compliments today, aren't you?"

Heather D snickered and Heather C shot her a glare for it, quieting her. Heather C stood and walked over to you and Veronica, hands on her hips. Waiting for Veronica to speak.

"We need your car to take them home," Veronica stated, pointing beside her to you. Who, in that moment, had started feeling incredibly nauseous. Before Heather could even respond to Veronica, you had doubled over and thrown up right on her shoes. Causing her to grimace.

"God you two are insufferably alike," Heather muttered, referring to when Veronica threw up on her back at the party. Veronica just gave her a sheepish smile, making Heather roll her eyes," well, now I gotta go home and change anyway. So, come on." She muttered, clearly not pleased with how her morning was turning out.

Heather took the three of you to her place, when she got there she headed right for the shower to get the smell of vomit off her. As for you and Veronica, Veronica helped you up the stairs. Supporting most of your weight and carrying you to Heather's bed. She helped you get changed into some of Heather's comfy pjs, then tucked you into bed. Following in only a moment after. Snuggling right up to you, even if you were sick.

As for the rest of the day, the three of you spent it ditching school. Cuddled up together and just overall enjoying the comfort of each other's presence.

[theshipdiaries]

How I Would've Written Camille

Honestly, if I had been writing the show, I would've made Cami reluctant to be part of the supernatural community during season one (kind of like in the show) but have her hate Klaus throughout all of it for what he did to her. Her belief that "people want to be good" would be shattered and reshaped. Then, in season two, I would've had her step up. Why? Because if she had taken responsibility, Klaus' baby wouldn't have died. She did say this at the end of season one or the beginning of season two—but then, instead of doing nothing with that realization, I would've made her become the new human leader. She would reluctantly help Klaus when needed, not for him, but out of guilt and friendship with Marcel and even Hayley. Be there more for Davina, actually help her through her trauma. SHE IS A PSYCHOLOGIST. DO SOMETHING WITH THAT. She has a masters on it.

She'd be a real asset to everyone because of it and someone who understands suffering caused by the supernatural world. What it's like to be collateral damage. She could help humans, werewolves, and vampires alike, and through that, she would begin to understand why Klaus does what he does and why he is the way he is. The way the supernatural world can destroy who you are.

All of season 2B she was just a babysitter. And her season 2A storyline panned out to nothing. Which is sad. Instead, when Ester and Finn tried to use her, she actually would've begun to understand Klaus's trauma and need for revenge.

Not because he entered her mind and showed her *his damage.* And it wouldn't be just because she is a psychologist.

Like, THAT would make more sense. The ship would actually be good. Her character would be complex and deep (not that stupid "darkness" thing on season 3 about how she beat up an abusive guy????? Is that even a bad thing???) .

In the actual show, at the end of season 2 (while she is babysitting btw) vincent asks why she stays and she says "my family's legacy" and then he is like "that's bullshit". Are you kidding me? And then she says it's for Klaus??? CANT SHE HAVE SMT? NOTHING. Not even the reason she stays in such a dangerous city that offers her NOTHING in return is about HER.

And she, not Klaus, would be the one to help Kenny not kill himself. She would use both her life experiences in New Orleans and her psychology degree to break through the compulsion and actually talk him off the ledge.

She could've helped the police like she started doing in season three, and then she’d feel conflicted because she couldn’t tell them the full truth. She can’t protect all humans. I don’t know—give her her own storyline. When she dies, she’d be scared that it would lead to war, because no one would be able to help them keep the peace. Who will protect the humans? Instead, they made her story all about Klaus.

And then Klaus would have grown fond of her—maybe even fallen in love with her. Everyone in the community would have loved her. After her death, they would try to be better to honor her, *especially* Klaus. He would want to honor her and everything she fought for. Not just him but how she fought for everyone. NOW IT WOULD MAKE SENSE.

But nothing happened.

They reduced it to *"she fought for your light"*—HIS light *alone.* Are you kidding me? They didn’t do it well. They just made her nothing. It was all about what she did for him. Never what he did for her (because he didn't do anything).

They molded her to whatever they needed at the moment and whatever would make Klaus think she understood him or smt. They sprinkled her in here and there, but her advice to Vincent? Her advice to Davina? Anyone else could’ve given it—Hayley, Jackson, even Josh. Almost none of it was specific to her. Some moments were, but not enough. Her death was all about HIM. How it affect HIM. Not anyone else. Not even HER. She could have actually had a friendship with Hayley not only like 3 scenes during the entire season. Feel like she can't help anymore because she is a vampire, that she can't be partial, that she has lost a part of herself. Idk ANYTHING OTHER THAN JUST SAD KLAUS CHOSE AURORA OVER HER. I liked that she was scared, and wanted to become stronger but that still led to nothing. Maybe when she is bitten by Lucien it isn't just because he wants Klaus to suffer, it's her protecting someone. BUT NO. Just about Klaus.

They shoved that ship down our throats. LOOK SHE UNDERSTANDS HIM!! LOOK HE CHANGES FOR HER (no he literally doesn't) !! LOOK LOOK. She is the innocent human who the big bad guy changes for!!! You guys love that!!! We know you do so here!!! Now stop it with the klaroline thing! LOOK AT THIS!! We made it as obvious as possible, yeah Klaus acts OOC but who cares. LOOK LOOK.

But why? WHY? GIVE ME A REASON. MAKE IT MAKE SENSE. ENOUGH WITH THE EXPOSITION. SHOW ME.

She deserved better.

[forkaround]

Anyone else notice that the only female screenwriter/director that's also a 'household' name is loathed for her work when the same tropes/situations in other BLs, by male screenwriters/directors are not? I'm talking about MAME. (who else?)

Pan BL fandom she is hated no matter what and she is the only BL writer (OG and Screen) that's treated like this. She is a very good writer. I've seen people complain about the plot but she is very much not a plot writer, she is a character writer and her characters are brilliantly crafted. They don't fall into pure moralities. They are complex. Human. She makes brilliant shows. She knows the foundations of writing very well. Not a single one of her shows has fizzled out at the end like most of GMMTV and many other companies/writers work. She started a business by herself to tell the stories she feels compelled to tell. She doesn't stick to a 'formula' (12 episodes, 11th episode breakup, etc.). Each story is told in a format that suits the story being told. Hell I'm sure she saw the DSN reviews about the second half not being as good and came up with the LITA formula (which, imo, is genius). I believe Wedding Plan is one of very few proper QLs where the female characters are crafted/given screen time equally to the male characters for the story being told. (Looking at you Bad Buddy, would it hurt you to have more InkPa?)

And despite all this she is, first of all, the only female 'household' name in BL and, also the most hated. People talk about her like spiting venom. The fandom picks apart her work in the most bad faith way possible just because it's a MAME product. Somehow it's fetishization only when she does it. The same story, the same tropes/plot line, the same SA under a male writer or director's name isn't scrutinized the way it's under MAME. If a man does it, it's a realistic queer experience. But it's the same thing. So I'm wondering why people hate when she does it but not when they do it? Especially since most of BL is written and directed by MEN! (Anyone going BL is for-by women really needs to look up who is writing and directing 90% of BLs in Thailand. Japan has the opposite stats, it's mostly made by women, that is as much as I could find.)

I believe Thai people love her (from what I've heard) and this is a everyone else thing. Foreigners hate her for some reason.

As a writer myself the mentality of the English speaking fandom I encounter on the internet is very concerning. Purity is very important to these fans. That's why they opt for the most tame BLs, all from GMMTV. And when some character does something slightly bad the fandom has to justify it with something. Take Only Friends for example, they are making these 20 smts into Korn TPKL level masterminds to justify liking or hating a character. Or fans would justify a characters bad behavior as them having been abused at home like Tantai from Laws of Attraction. As if that's an excuse. (explanation, yes. Excuse, no).

Purity has no place in art. Art isn't pure. Art is messy. It can't be anything else.