#and in many ways was trying his best in the circumstances. and are we not supposed to be loving our neighbour

[family-tree-of-ships]

So, I’ve been thinking.

Buck has some seriously bad taste in girlfriends over the course of these glorious 6 seasons, before he decides to see if the other side can bring some light in. I mean, all of the women he has seriously dated had some strong likable qualities to them and they all wanted what’s best for Buck (I’m trying at my own share of optimism here). I think, from all of them, Abby was his most successful one (before it obviously crashed and burned and shattered his big wonderful heart). It had something none of the other ones had. Acceptance and honesty. Abby accepted his job, listened when Buck was caught up into his head about the stresses of the job. Buck accepted her problems with her mother and helped her through while she was alive and for a good time after she passed. Buck was honest with her, as she was with him. They had been through their fair share of trials and tribulations. Up until she left for Europe, I honestly liked them together.

Once they’re officially over, all the other relationships he has either miss one or the other.

Ali couldn’t get over the dangers Buck was open to while on the job.

Taylor fully accepted his job, even was honest and genuine with him at some point. Buck didn’t reciprocate either. He couldn’t get over her intense ambition for every new story she could use to her benefit (to which she obtained by breaching his trust, both when they first met and when they were well into their relationship). He wasn’t open with her, again, in many circumstances. Even cheated on her with Lucy, for whom he didn’t have any sort of feelings other than attraction. When you get drunk, the truth comes out. There’s no devil, just a complete lack of self-restraint. If Buck truly loved her, which we know he didn’t, since her answer to her confession was literally “Good.”, getting drunk should’ve confirmed his affections, not completely contradict them. Buck, seems like an affectionate and happy drunk, since that’s who he is. If he loved Taylor, we should’ve gotten a sequence in which he calls her and starts spitting dramatic declarations or even comes home to her because when you love someone, they’re your home. Your instinct is to go them, not kiss the next person you see. Then, he lies, once he gets to his apartment, after this ‘mistake’. And asks her to move in. Because he got nervous. He couldn’t be honest with her. When they found out, they brushed it off quickly, never to be mentioned again. As if they wore both scared. They break it off, eventually, after a story that should’ve remained private made the headlines. It was an important breach in trust, but it shouldn’t have been enough for Buck, considering how loyal he is (just look at how much he waited for Abby). But it didn’t need to be too much, since there wasn’t anything too significant or tethering between them to begin with.

Natalia was fascinated by his death, which was an instant message that this wasn’t going to last in any way, shape or form. Buck is also dishonest with her, about Lucy and his history with her, again. We can understand this, it shines a bad light on him if he confesses he has cheated before, but didn’t he say she sees him? Shouldn’t that bring out at least some kind of easiness into ending up saying the truth? Apparently not.

We can see why the majority dislike Buck’s choices in the women he dates long-term. Ali and Natalia never get fleshed out. Abby and Taylor do and you, as a watcher, can even sympathize with them, but they both end up really hurting Buck. So, what can you do? Settle for what the show gives you? Fandoms don’t do that, especially when they aren’t satisfied.

Okay, so who reaches those two requirements and is constantly present in Buck’s life, who is properly fleshed out? You guessed it.

Drumrolls, please.

Eddie.

Do we even have to talk about acceptance? Come on.

Eddie has been here since season 2. Through a near death experience, then another one, then a lawsuit and then another one (there’s a lot, enough to fill a whole card-based game). Buck has also had to suffer through two of those near-death meetings with Death that Eddie has had. They’ve fully had each other’s backs within the first 48 hours of meeting one another. Honesty between them is natural and that is expressed in a lot of scenes. To list a few, we have Eddie having panic attacks when he thinks of committing to Ana. He goes and talks about it with Buck and Bobby and then breaks it off with her. Secondly, when Eddie finds about the fates of his army friends and destroys his bedroom through a fit of rage brought on by helplessness and fear. A very vulnerable state to be in (let’s be honest, how many damn people have seen Eddie cry his eyes out?). Buck goes in, listens to him, gives him advice and we later see them both patching up his wrecked bedroom walls. Thirdly, we have Buck going to his house to get some reprieve from the constant worry his friends have for him, knowing that he won’t be pushed here, but comfortably accompanied. He falls asleep immediately (let’s ignore couch theory before I go bonkers). That’s both of them expressing vulnerability and raw honesty. More than they’ve done with any lover, no matter how fleshed out.

There’s clearly an answer here. We’re going to wait until they find it.

#911 #911 show #911 abc #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #taylor kelly #Abby #they’re in love your honor #I quite fucking literally don’t make the rules #I’m given facts #I analyze #I come to a conclusion #this is what the show is giving me] #911 what’s your emergency #911 fox #911 season 6 #the brainrot is real #buddie brainrot

[street-smarts00]

I have a request for a drabble or headcannon style thing, whatever you prefer. Where spencer and reader are very close (friends or dating you can decide) and he makes a fatal mistake on the job that gets reader killed 😳 if that is something you will do 🥰 thank you

(Long) Drabble: Doubt Comes in

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!reader

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! Normally I don’t like sad endings lol BUT this request gave me the motivation to write something with this idea I’ve had. I almost made it a full one shot but didn't know how. (if you like Orpheus and Eurydice, see if you can catch the hadestown references)

Warnings!: Sad ending/ANGST, Murder, death of a loved one, mentions of kidnapping, anxiety and questioning reality

Its kinda long for a drabble but not long enough where I would call it a one-shot, i got carried away but hope ya'll like it!

The team was working on a case with an unsub that was targeting couples. The team didn’t realize that the unsub had been stalking them since they arrived. He quickly learned of your relationship with spencer. 

You were leaving the precinct to follow up with a victim's family member when the unsub had snuck up on you. After you went missing the team went into a frenzy and tracked your location to an abandoned warehouse. 

When they arrived on the scene they had the unsub on the phone. He claimed that you were safe and unharmed. 

He said you were free to go but only one member of the team could go get you. He demanded they send in her boyfriend. 

Hotch was hesitant to send Spencer in. He was in shambles ever since you went missing that afternoon. His mind was scattered, he couldn’t think of anything but you. 

They figured while this was exactly what the unsub wanted, it was their best chance to get you out safe. 

Spencer was handed the phone and headed towards the warehouse. The building was dimly lit, it was so dark he could barely see 5 feet in front of him. The place was filled with storage and pallet rack shelves turning it into a maze. 

As he made his way through the building the unsub would give him directions if he strayed too far from the path. It was like the unsub had eyes everywhere, he must’ve either had cameras or was positioned on a hidden upper level. 

While Spencer was walking the unsub would taunt him through the phone. Asking questions about your relationship. 

It made him sick. He never said anything to the man on the other end of the line; didn’t want to give the unsub the satisfaction of knowing he was in shambles.

It felt like he had been walking for forever when he finally reached you. You were curled up in a corner of a dead end. When you saw him you jumped up and landed in his arms. He felt you trembling against him and it made his heart crack. 

“You said you would let her go if I came to get her,” he spoke into the phone with a shaky voice. 

“And I intend to keep my promise. You both are free to go. Except, she must walk behind you. You cannot not turn around under any circumstance until you both are out of the building.” 

“What will happen if I do?” 

“Let’s just say you’re wearing a kevlar vest and she’s not. If you turn around, speak, or hang up the phone, I shoot.” Spencer's stomach dropped. “And don’t even think about being a hero and giving her your vest.” 

“That's all we have to do? And we can go?” You asked, voice horse from not speaking in hours. 

The voice on the phone spoke again. “You’d be surprised how many men can not resist the temptation. The worst temptation you’ll ever meet, the one that lines between your ears and behind your eyes.” 

It seemed like a simple enough task. To walk out of the building. Spencer trusted you to be there and you trusted him to keep his eyes ahead. 

He placed a hand on your cheek. “I promise I-“ 

“I know. I love you,” You interrupted. 

“I love you,” he spoke softly before leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. The kiss was desperate, like he was trying to savor every last bit.

You both separated from the kiss and started your journey through the warehouse. This time the unsub wasn’t giving him directions to find his way back. At first he didn’t need them, with his eidetic memory he could recall the pathway he took. 

But as he kept walking the anxiety started to eat away at him. The darkness was messing with his eyes and the silence was deafening. He started to make wrong turns, forgetting which path to take and doubting himself. Either he was getting lost or the building was getting longer. 

The only thing that brought him comfort was the sound of your footsteps behind him. Or was that his footsteps? He didn’t know anymore. 

It felt like his senses were working against him. He already felt like an idiot with his mind not being able to think straight due to your disappearance. But now your life was in his hands and they’ve been trembling since he walked in. 

The logical part of his brain told him there would be no reason for you to not be behind him. But the anxiety running around in his head was questioning if you had ever been there at all. Or why would he let him win? Why would he let her go?

He had thoughts pounding in his mind of “Is this a trap that's been laid for me? Is this a trick that's been played on me?”

After what felt like a lifetime he made it to the front door. His footsteps picked up and he grasped at the handle to feverishly push the door open. 

Spencer walked outside as a wave of relief washed over him. They finally made it. 

He turned to face you as the corners of his mouth perked up. He met your eyes, shining with glee that you made it out safe. 

Then it got loud. He heard gunshots vibrating against his eardrums. Your eyes went wide as saucers. You grasped at your abdomen before you crashed into Spencer. 

How could this happen? They made it out. He said he would let them go. And Then Spencer saw it. 

You hadn’t made it out yet. 

He turned to look at you before you crossed. You both didn’t make it out. You got hurt, and it was his fault. 

He held you close to him. The surrounding sounds all blended together. Morgans screams for a medic, the officers breaking into the building. That all fell on deaf ears. 

It seemed as though his whole life fell apart when he saw you mouth his name as the light disappeared from your eyes.

Your life was in his hands, and he let you slip away.

“Eurydice, dying now a second time, uttered no complaint against her husband. What was there to complain of, but that she had been loved?” ― Ovid, Metamorphoses

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction

[thebirdandhersong]

well mark that down as situation 2938489 that I don't know how to handle

#i would love advice on this if y'all have any thoughts to share because i know what my parents think and im having trouble sorting it out #i love these three friends of mine but it is really draining to be around them now because all they will talk about is church drama #(re: our old church) and rehashing it all and being Outraged about the horrors etc etc #either that or being downright condescending about protestants/non denominations and acting like it's funny to talk like that all the time #i end up being more angry or resentful or exasperated at the end of our conversations than glad and at peace like i did before #(before all THIS ish happened and the three of them were like okay this is all we're going to talk about now) #i've tried to say in gentle ways (i am simply not capable of this kind of blunt confrontation) that maybe we should not be talking #so uncharitably towards other people especially behind their backs. like. yes bad things happened. we have to acknowledge that. #but continually making jokes and jibes at a priest's expense really rubs me the wrong way especially since i KNOW that he loves us #and in many ways was trying his best in the circumstances. and are we not supposed to be loving our neighbour #and is this not downright slander to keep going on this way esp since it goes on for HOURS at a time #anyway i don't know what to DO because if i keep chatting with them/meeting up with them conversation will be 90% this thing and i Hate It #but on the other hand i feel responsibility towards them because my godson's one of them and another is a friend who is a fairly recent #convert and if i leave them to stew in their own echo chamber i doubt it'll do them good #am i supposed to keep some distance? am i supposed to keep arguing whenever one of them says something unkind or inflammatory? #am i supposed to keep speaking up so that they hear a different perspective? am i supposed to run in the other direction for my own peace o #mind? anyway i am still thinking this over and it stresses me OUT #it used to be fun and life giving to be around these people and now it is so exhausting and seriously alarming in many ways

[star-ocean-peahen]

After watching Cinderella (the original animated movie, which was my favorite as a child), it strikes me how it solves many common problems people have with this fairy tale. Like:

Why did they try to identify the mystery girl using her shoe size? Because the bullheaded king's only clue to her identity was the shoe the Grand Duke picked up off the steps.

Why didn't the prince recognize her by her face? Because his father wouldn't involve him in the process at all, and wasn't the one going around trying to find her.

Why did the prince want to marry a lady he only met that night? Because his father was going to force him to marry someone, and he genuinely liked this woman.

Why did Cinderella want to marry a man she only met that night? Because marriage was her best and most secure way to freedom. Fucked up, but you can't say it's unrealistic for the setting of a fairy tale. She also genuinely liked him.

If they're using the slipper to find her, wouldn't it be more sensible to search for the person with the other slipper? Yes. The King is purposefully nonsensical and the Duke is purposefully terrified enough of him to carry out his orders to the letter. Furthermore, they end up doing that in the end anyway, because the Duke's glass slipper is shattered, and Cinderella brings out the one she has to prove her identity.

Why didn't the stepmother and stepsisters recognize Cinderella at the ball? Because they were dancing too far away, and then left the party to dance in private, which was possible because the King wanted very badly for his son to hit it off with someone and tried to arrange the best conditions for that to happen.

Why didn't Cinderella save herself? Because in real life, abuse victims should not have to shoulder that responsibility, and usually can't. In real life, you need and deserve an external support system. Asking for help, in this kind of situation, is very important. She is saved by others because she is loved. Because she is not alone. Because she has friends who love her, and want her to be happy and safe and free. Because in real life, people who want to help someone who is suffering are like the mice. We can't pull out miracle solutions, but we can provide companionship and if we're in the right place at the right time, we can help the person find a better life.

Why didn't the fairy godmother save Cinderella from her abusive household, or try to help her sooner? Because she's magic, and magic can't solve your problems. Quote: "Like all dreams, well, I'm afraid it can't last forever." This (and Cinderella's dream of going to the ball) is a metaphor for pleasurable things in bad circumstances. An ice cream won't get rid of your depression, but it will provide you with momentary happiness to bolster you, as well as the reminder that happiness in general is still possible for you. Cinderella doesn't want to go to the ball so she can get away from her stepmother and stepsisters, or so she can meet someone to marry and leave with. She wants to go to the ball to remind herself that she can still have things she wants. That her desires matter. This is important because the movie does a very good job of illustrating Lady Tremaine's subtle abuse tactics, all of which invisibly press the message that Cinderella doesn't matter. While going to the ball and fulfilling her dreams may not be a victory in the material sense, it is still a victory against Lady Tremaine's efforts.

Why is Cinderella's choice to be kind and obedient framed as a good thing, when you are not obligated to be kind to your abuser? This one walks a very fine line, but I think the movie still makes it make sense. Lady Tremaine never acknowledges her cruelty. She always frames her punishments of Cinderella as Cinderella's fault. Cinderella is interrupting, Cinderella is shirking her duties, Cinderella is playing vicious practical jokes. Cinderella is still a member of the family, of course she can go to the ball, provided she meet these impossible conditions. Lady Tremaine's tactics are designed to make Cinderella feel like she must always be in the wrong and her stepmother must always be in the right. If Cinderella calls her stepmother out on her cruelty, or attempts to fight back, Lady Tremaine can frame that as Cinderella being ungrateful, cruel, broken, evil, etc. If Cinderella responds to her stepmother's cruelty defiantly (in the way she's justified to), she's not taking control out of Lady Tremaine's hands. Disobedience can be spun back into her stepmother's control. She wants Cinderella to be angry and sad and show how much she's hurting. So since Cinderella is adapting to her situation, she chooses to be kind. Not only because she naturally wants to be and it's part of her personality, but because it is a form of defiance in its own way, and it allows her to keep a reminder of her agency and value. Her choice to be kind is her chance to keep her own narrative alive: she is not obeying because her stepmother wants her to and she has to do what her stepmother does, but because she wants to. It's a small distinction, but one that makes all the difference in terms of keeping her hope and identity. (Fuck, I wrote a whole paragraph about how this doesn't mean you can't be angry at people who hurt you or that you need to be kind to deserve help, and then deleted it by accident. Uh. Try again.) Expressing anger and pain is an important part of regaining autonomy and healing. Although it is commendable to be kind while you are suffering, it is NOT required for you to get help or be worthy of help. If Cinderella's recovery was explored beyond "happily ever after" she would need to let herself be angry and sad to heal. Cinderella is not only kind because it comes naturally to her, but because it's her defense against the abuse she's suffering. Everyone's story and experiences are different, and one does not invalidate the other.

Bonus round for answers that aren't part of the movie:

Why didn't Cinderella run away? Where would she go? Genuinely, in hundreds-of-years-ago France, where would she go if she snuck out of the window with a change of clothes? With her step-family, she's miserable and abused, but she's fed, clothed, and in no danger of dying or being taken advantage of by anyone other than her stepmother and stepsisters. Even if she escapes and manages to find financial security, her stepmother might be able to find her and get her back.

Why didn't Cinderella burn the house down with them inside it/slit their throats in the night/poison their food/etc.? Because that's a revenge fantasy, and this story is a fantasy about being saved. There's nothing wrong with making Cinderella into a revenge fantasy. That's perfectly fine, as long as you acknowledge that the other type of fantasy is also a valid interpretation. (I mean, the original fairy tale features the stepsisters getting their feet mutilated and all three of them getting their eyes pecked out, so go for it.)

Why isn't Cinderella more proactive in general? Because she's a child who has been abused for the back half of her life, who has had to be focused on survival because. you know. she's an abused kid.

How did she dance in glass slippers? Gotta agree with you there man, that's weird.

#cinderella #cinderella (1950) #fairy tales

[awniie]

AT LEAST LOOK AT ME WHEN YOU LIE

ᣞ ⊹ ݁ summary: your boyfriend suguru finds the best way to punish you !!

꒰ content: mean!sugu, fem!reader, pussyslapping, praise/degradiation, cum denial, feel like this whole thing is kinda a niche kink

ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ notes: my ‘mean suguru’ drabble was based on this so if some stuff sounds familiar it’s cus i took this n drabble-fied it; also this is for the anon who asked for it <33 ALSO @d0nk3y-k0ng my new-found geto fixation is your fault <33

“Suguru, can you help me?…this thing is too heavy!” you called out, voice straining as you struggled to bring the giant cardboard box through the door. It was way too heavy for you, and of course the delivery people had quickly set it outside the door, escaping the potential work of having to bring it inside. Your boyfriend quickly rushed to your aid, grabbing the opposite side of the box. “I got it baby, where did you wanna put it again?” Suguru asked, setting the box against the wall and looking at you.

“I wanted to put it in the living room. That way it’ll be the most accessible.” You told him. You two hand just moved into your new place and decorating was the sole thing on your mind. You spent hours on pinterest, trying to find the perfect aesthetic for your new home. You valued your home,so much so that you started repeating all those cringey aphorisms whenever you were questioned about your new-found obsession.

“Home is where the heart is, sugu.” You told him. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, but what does that anything to do with spending $100 on a house plant?” You let out a sheepish laugh. “Well…I can take care of the plant. Which takes heart…?” You murmured. It was an inane suggestion, which was appropriate for the circumstance of spending $100 on a plant. “Sounds a bunch of bullshit to me.” Your boyfriend told you. He was necessarily happy with all the money being spent on what seemed like superficial things, he seemed to be happy with the results of your decorating.

It took about 30 minutes to situate this new mirror, but for good reasons. It was big, like really big. Leaning, it was taller than you and almost as tall as your 6’3 boyfriend. It was wide as well, providing a perfect view of anyone who looked into it. It was a gorgeous peice of furniture. The frame was a creamy white, with ornate molding. There were carefully crafted swirls and curves on it, with tiny clay embellishment. It had looked like something out of a fairytale, like a mirror that could reveal the deepest desires of whoever dared look inside. It was perfect for your new house, the only thing that wasn’t so perfect was the extravagant price. Your jaw almost dropped when you saw the cost. No way in hell would Suguru let you buy it, no matter how much you beg or how many tears you spill.

So you searched for alternatives. Any sort of duplicate or listing on another site would be scouted out and search throughly before you succumb your wallet to $2,500. You must’ve been god-kissed that day, as the only cheaper listing was $1,700. Still, it wasn’t something you felt 100% sure about buying, but what other options were there? Suguru would be proud of you for finding a cheaper offering and thinking about a budget. So, you went ahead and bought it, feeling pretty proud of yourself for doing so. Did you tell Suguru about the purchase? no way. You’d only tell him if he asked, and you prayed with all your heart that he wouldn’t.

“Sooo…do you like it?” you asked him hopefully. Maybe he would say yes and then move on to something else, and not ask that dreadful question. Maybe, when you told him about the bargain you made, he’d be proud of you for your efforts. “Mhmmm, t’s real pretty.” He put his hand on his chin, as if thinking. “How much did we pay for this again?” Suguru asks, stepping back and giving it an appraisal.

Shit. It was silent for a good 10 seconds. You could feel the way your words dried up on your tongue and died, as if they were too scared to come up. He raised an eyebrow and asks again, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. “How much did we pay for this thing?” Stil not answer. He came up behind you, snaking one arm around your waist, while his open hand went to your chin. “Baby, you gon’ answer me?” His ghostly purple eyes searing yours through that cursed mirror.

…

“I-I just forgot to tell you-…!” you whined, legs buckling as you felt another sharp stinging sensation land on puffy clit.

“Oh, you did?” Suguru asked facetiously. You nod and cry as you feel another slap land on your clit. He then grabs your face with his hands, holding your cheeks between his slick-coated fingers. “At least look at me when you lie, baby.” He said as he guided your face in the mirror.

This was humiliating. He had you spread out on the floor, pussy glistening and your back pressed up against his chest. He had took upon himself to punish you, which subsequently turned into something lewd and twisted. Hence the being sprawled out, leggings and panties long discarded and receiving countless slaps on your cunt. It was painfully obvious that he was hard, feeling his length that was being squashed up against your ass. Your hair was messy and out of place, your skin sticky while drool and tears coated your chin. The worst part? He was doing this right infront of the new mirror and he wouldn’t even let you look away, so you were forced to fully embrace your current state.

“Please sugu. I didn’t mean too…just lemme cum please? You begged, your voice shaky and full of hiccups.

“Noo, only good girls get to cum .” He cooed, his finger playing with your little bundle of nerves. You’d been at this for about an hour now. He’d start to finger your cunt, and then he’d hit it as punishment. The closest you’ve been to finishing was the half-broken orgasm you’d stolen from his fingering, which in return you got another slap.

“Could’ve been done a long time ago. You’re making this so difficult for me baby.” He whispered in your ear, as if this hurt him more than it did you. “So now, are you gonna tell me the truth, or are you gonna keep lying to me? Cus’ trust me, I won’t hesitate to hit this pussy again” He threatened, the hand on your sticky clit moving even more slowly as an incentive.

You meant to shake your head, but when he swiftly plunged his fingers into your weeping cunt, the sloppy sounds of your slick, must’ve drowned out whatever of your senses was left. “y-yes…!”

You saw the gleam of that dangerous smile in the mirrors reflection. “I knew you would. Such a smart girl, yeah?”

Then your boyfriend laughed, a soft and smooth laugh that should not have gone down to your lower stomach with molten delicious heat. Could you blame yourself though? His fingers were pumping in-and-out of you with tantalizing proficiency, making your insides do somersaults. The way that syrupy-sweet praises dripped off his tongue alongside bitter jeers. Your brain was too far fucked out for so many conflicting emotions. “Go on now..say what you needa say to me.”

“m’ sorry for spending your money sugu! I shouldn’t have bought it, should’ve a-asked!” You confessed, buckling you hips in tandem with his fingers. “Ah ah…no moving.” He reprimanded, taking those fingers out and slapping your hole again. Your body jolted at the sudden sting and then slumped back against his chest.

“Look at you, all teary eyed and wet-pussied. You like this shit, don’t yeah?” He catchesized, with that stupid-stupid smirk on his face. “I bet you’re not sorry at all.”

“No-yes-no m’ sorry..! M’ really really sorry! ” You could barely understand what he was saying. Your pleasure was the only thing that mattered right now, all other senses finger-fucking out of you a long time ago. Geto loved you like this though. Fucked dumb and too far down the abyss of your own pleasure to think properly, all inhibitions lost. It was the easiest way to get an answer out of you.

“I think you bought this mirror just for yourself. Just so you could watch yourself get fucked? He guessed, dragging his hands across your quivering thighs. You hated how soft his voice sounded, especially when accusing you. whimpered as he did, wishing he’d just hurry and put you out of your misery. “N-no”

he frowned, stopping his hand in its tracks. He brought his lips close to shell of you ear, sending shivers down your spine and more wetness to your cunt. “Look at me, and don’t lie.”

You looked at him, straight through the mirror. “I promise, i didn't sugu. I just wanted our home to look nice!” you confessed, sniffling and squeezing your thighs together to create some sort of friction for your achey pussy.

Suguru felt his heart melt a little. You were so pitiful with your shaky mewls and whines . He couldn't help but feel a little bad for being so mean to his precious girl. He shouldn't punish you too hard, obviously you didn't know much better. “Aww..look at that face. How could I be so mean?” He told you, trailing that finger up on down your slit. He smiled at how you hips yet again bucked at his wandering digits. “So needy. Poor baby, drooling n’ crying just like this pussy. Guess I should give you what you want, yeah?”

“Mh! Yes sugu, please lemme cum now! I’m so sorry, won’t do this ever again.” You begged. At this point you were full on crying, all other senses overrides by your need to cum. His thick fingertip teased your sopping entrance, re-coating the fingers in cum.

He simply laughed, diving those fingers back into your pulsing heat. “Oh, I know baby. I know. Now watch me as I give this pussy just what she needs.”

#that ending kinda sucked #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #jujutsu geto #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk fanfic #smut #jjk suguru #gojo smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu suguru #jjk gojo #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #jujutsu sorcerer #saturo smut #geto x y/n #jujutsu kaisen suguru

[elixrr]

“Wait, Y/N—” He stops you in your tracks. He needs a rundown. He needs a repeat on why you're leaving him. “Why— why are you—”

“Why?” You stop yourself from crying out loud, “Because you're killing yourself over me.”

He stops in his tracks. Him? Killing himself over you? What are you saying? He's fine, he's perfectly fine, as long as he's with you!

“Wh– What makes you say that? Please, love, don't go away. Don't leave, tell me what's wrong, I can make it right!”

“You were making your way back up in life before we started dating.” You begin. Your voice became soft and sorrowful, holding in layers of guilt for this poor, poor man before you. “You were making money for yourself, and you were finally helping yourself become financially stable.”

“So it's the money?” He lets out an exasperated laugh, as if he were relieved at the circumstance. He smiles with slight relief in his eyes, and he reassures you, “Don't worry! I'll find more jobs, then I'll earn enough to buy you more things. Hell, the money you gave me when... when you told me you were leaving, I– I can use it!”

His smile stays for a bit, but it fades when he watches your expression sadden.

“It wasn't about getting me gifts. You need the money for yourself, not me. I'm fine with everything I have. I gave you the money because you need it to take care of yourself again.”

You can't bear to look at his confused face. He's such a sweetheart, and it hurts like hell to leave him, but it's for the best if it means he only has to support himself, and not two people.

“But... If you just need me to be financially stable, that's fine. I can do that, then afterward, I can buy—”

“Honey, that's not it. You need the money for yourself and yourself only, don't count material things for me.”

“But— I just... I don't want you to leave. We can work this out. We can work it out together.”

You pause, hesitating. The door stands tall behind you. You don't want to leave him; he's your darling, but guilt overrides your heart, and you take your stance.

“I wanted to work it out with you, so I've tried. We've discussed this so many times, remember? But when you did become financially stable again, you wasted it all away for me on Valentine's Day. I loved that gift— I love you, I love you so much, but I can't keep watching you destroy yourself.”

He finally feels the tear rolling, and yours begin to pour.

“And since you only begin to listen when I'm on the verge of leaving, I feel like it would help you more than it would hurt if I left.”

“But I can't do this without you!”

He runs up to you, trying to hug you, but you're out the door, and he falls to the ground, sobbing on his knees and watching you leave. It's terrible, it's horrible, but he can't bring himself to stand up and chase you. To his surprise, you kneel by him and hold his cheek.

“I don't want you to do this alone. But you have to, if it means you'll be able to live again.”

And there's a pause between you two. It's raining, drizzling raindrops coat your hair and lather across your clothes, as it does with his. The air is thick; bridges are burning. This was not something he could ever recover from, but you have a whole future ahead of you, away from him. Was he holding you back the whole time? Did any of this interfere with your work? With your mental stability?

Please, take him back. Keep him with you.

“I left a great sum of money with you.” You pull yourself together and stand. Your sudden stability towers over his— considering as he lacks it. “If you section it correctly, you'll have enough to pay the bills for almost two years, and you'll have money left over for about three months to buy yourself luxurious food and some nice clothes. If you don't look for luxury, that will last you a while, more than enough to look for a whole new job.”

“I don't care.” He finally manages to cry out, and he holds your waist in a final, desperate attempt to keep you with him. “I don't care. I– I don't want money,

I just want you.”

But he can't keep you. You glance at your driver and signal for her to wait. You lift your ex-boyfriend back up and take him back into the house, seating him on the couch. You take one final look around the shabby living room, and you sigh.

“I'd tell you to come back when you can handle everything better, but by then, I'm sure you'll have met someone new.”

“But what if I don't?”

“Then feel free to come back when you're comfortable. I'm glad you're so kind and loving, but I simply just couldn't stand watching you waste your future away for me.”

You stand up and kiss him one last time. He, like usual, doesn't process it in time to kiss you back, and before he could reciprocate, you bow and wave a goodbye, and you're out the door.

You grab the doorknob and— before you close the door, you turn around and mutter the quietest, soon meaningless ‘I love you,’ and you gently close the door,

and that was the end of it all.

You said that he should build a new future for himself, but with his tearful eyes glaring hot, burning laser beams at the door, it's very safe to say that this future is starting off terribly far from a good one.

He needs a restart; he's realized it before, but he never wanted to start over like this—

He never wanted to see a future without you in it. But you're gone. All that's left are the remaining photos you haven't taken, as well as the money you've left for him.

He hears the car drive off into the distant future.

He hears the car skid into your new future.

He knows why you left him now, but he doesn't know why you needed to.

If only he could get you to repeat it one last time. But there are no repeats.

All you've really left him with is a restart.

– LYNEY, FREMINET, HEIZOU, GAMING, xiao, EARLY KUNI(KUZISHI)

#genshin x reader #character x reader #lyney x reader #lyney x you #freminet x reader #freminet x you #gaming x reader #ga ming x readet #gaming x you #ga ming x you #heizou x reader #heizou x you #venti x reader #venti x you #bennett x reader #bennett x you #xiao x reader #xiao x you #genshin fic #genshin impact fic #character x y/n #genshin x y/n #angst #light angst #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #this is some deadplate ronan inspired type shit

[allfearstofallto]

I swear to God Childe has so much potential as a yandere, I have this feeling that his soul “died” when he fall into the abyss, after that major event he is a completely different person and his parents knows it they saw it in his eyes, soulless, thirsty for blood and violence.

Imagine him in utter shock when his kids get scared of him, not realizing his love is twisted and sick in the head after they saw how he treats their mother by trying to mimic what he thinks is “love”, how she gets anxious whenever she’s around him,they can hear her cry every night from their bedroom despite her trying her best to be the mother they deserve knowing the circumstances that led to their births, Generally children can feel when something is happening in their household but cannot fully understand it due to their age (lol speaking from experience).

He thought he’d have a picture perfect family with his darling, but why now are they seeing him as if he some type of a monster? That will for sure would make him insecure and it brings up the abyss memories. He claims he loves them and their mother so much but why does he hurt their mama?.

Friend, this is literally a full fledged fic already! And it's incredible!! I've been thinking on this idea for a bit already cause I already had an ask similar to it, so I'll add onto your fic just a little bit!!

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere themes, reader has children

Growing up in a large family with so many siblings to love and care for, laughter was a sound that he often heard. It was his favorite sound, other than the distinct noise that blood made when it dripped into freshly packed snow. Snezhnaya is cold, but laughter coming straight from your belly is so so warm.

He loves coming home to the sound of laughter. Childish giggles and your rich chuckles. He'd sit his bow down to the side and close the front door to the manor, a noise that was rather loud. He'd be smiling ear to ear, wanting to join in on all the fun, only to realize that the house was now quiet.

Childe went to the living room, where you sat with his two sons. Your two sons. His little bundles of joy that he was eternally grateful to have. The younger one rested on your lap, the other on the carpeted floor at your feet, with a myriad of toys splayed in front of him.

Why did you always make that face at him, he wondered. Big doe eyes, like deer in headlights, you always looked so stiff and scared around him. Maybe that's why in turn, the kids made that same face, maybe that's why the laughter always stopped when he entered the room. The kids would huddle in closer to you and farther away from him.

"It's nice to see you all together when I come home," he'd say, with that smile still on his face, but you could see the edges of his lips twitching. He was forcing this smile and you forced one back, gently tapping your son with your foot to tell him to do the same. He hesitated for a moment, then beamed up at him with a grin, missing his two front teeth.

"We missed you, papa!" He yelled, just as you told him to. Just the way Childe wanted. Your younger son continued to bury his face in your lap, trying to look any where but his father.

Childe didn't seem bothered by this and leaned down to tousle the boy's orange hair, making him flinch in your hold, "I always loved that they got my hair color," he said while looking at you, eyes so dead and empty, you thought you were looking into a void, "I never realized how well my hair and your eyes went together until I saw them."

"Is that so, my love?" You spoke warmly while gently trying to nudge your son from your lap, "We could talk more about it now. I was just going to send the boys to their rooms."

His expression finally changed. The facade finally fell. His smile dropped and his eyebrows furrowed. You could tell that he was trying to hold the expression back, trying not to scare the children, but they'd already notice his change in demeanor. His shift in attitude making the air feel thick and tight, constricting your chest.

"Why would we do that? We can just talk together, as a family,"

#mai<3 answers #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #genshin childe x reader

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 ! - 𝐥.𝐜 🫧

daughter of aphrodite! reader x luke castellan 💘

summary- luke would carry the world on his shoulders for the approval of your mother

warnings- like two cuss words, feminine reader, one slight reference to sex (lukes a virgin lolol), not proofread (yet)

3.3k

You had always been the favorite of your mother, Aphrodite. With the way she frequently delivered extravagant gifts, ranging from beauty supplies to carefully crafted swords, it was clear you were granted special treatment from the typically vain goddess. Others grew envious of your glorious relationship, watching from afar as you had yet another conversation with her. 

The unfortunate truth was that you worked your ass off to receive a fraction of affection from your mother. Waking up at the crack of dawn to get ready, biting your tongue as others gossiped about you, and training hours per day were just some of the cruel circumstances you had to endure in order to keep up your facade. Everything about you had to be seemingly perfect, which is hard to maintain when living in such harsh conditions.

Your ethereal beauty and charming personality gained the attention of many, making Aphrodite proud. However, no matter how many demigods asked you out, they were all politely declined. This wasn’t a personal choice, but instead one forcefully implemented by your mom. 

Every camper knew of the strange rule the goddess had set for you. Not one soul would be allowed to take you on a date without her approval. Unfortunately for you, she was extremely strict and harsh when choosing. It was odd that the ruler of love would prevent her dearest kin from experiencing the joys of having a partner, but the gods did little with rationality.

During your weekly prayer one evening, you found yourself pondering why Aphrodite seemed to reject all suitors. Seeking answers, you broached the subject with her. In response, Aphrodite professed a desire for nothing but the best for you, her words punctuated by the subtle shifts in her mood. Intrigued by her cryptic response, you couldn't help but remain curious, uncertain whether she spoke the truth or spun another detailed tale.

Among the crowd of diligent campers who showered you with attention, there remained one who truly stood out. Luke Castellan, the offspring of Hermes, had harbored a profound admiration for you from the moment of your arrival. While others were fixated solely on your captivating exterior, he found himself drawn to the depths of your enchanting personality. Your passionate expression for the things that ignited your soul—be it delving into the mysteries of ancient artworks or nurturing the vibrant flower fields—held him spellbound.

One day, the immense ache in his lovelorn heart became too agonizing to bear. As the sun awoke from its slumber and you elegantly devoured a ripe pear, he asked you to follow him into the lush forest. Despite the slightly sketchy request, you obliged, trusting Luke with your whole heart.

"I hate to sound blunt, but why are we here again?" You queried, batting away pesky flies and dodging branches that lunged out intrusively.

"I'm determined to take you out," he proclaimed, his voice brimming with confidence, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt creep in as you cringed with uncertainty.

“Luke, you know how my mom feels-“ 

“Yeah, I know how your mom feels. But how do you feel?” He blurted, his coffee brown eyes staring deep into yours, and for a moment, you saw the deepest part of him that was hidden from the rest of the world. 

“What’d mean?” You questioned him, trying to wrap your head around his statement, like it was a foreign concept for someone to ask how you perceived the situation.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” Luke whispered.

“I’d love to, but she-“ His response was accompanied by a light shake of his head, his voice gaining intensity as he delivered his next sentence with austerity.

“Tell me the truth. If Aphrodite wasn’t your mother, would you date me?”

Silence flooded the woods; it seemed even the birds stopped singing to hear your much-awaited response. 

“Yes, I would.” You said it honestly, twiddling with your hands out of nervousness for your mother’s reaction.

“Okay then. I have a plan; don’t worry.” Luke interlocked your fingers, gently dragging you back to the pavilion with a grin plastered across his face.

As the day unfolded in its familiar rhythm, there was an intriguing twist: you found yourself stealing glances at Luke more frequently, your fondness for him blossoming rapidly. Anticipation brewed as you prayed for the success of whatever scheme Luke had concocted. Yet, the nagging suspicion of your mom’s disapproval gnawed at you, even if Luke was nicknamed the camp's "golden boy."

As dusk approached and dinner was served, the absence of Luke grasped your attention. The atmosphere lacked the presence of a couple other different Hermes offspring, too; the usual crowd at the wooden picnic tables was now missing. Brushing aside budding concerns, you settled beside your siblings, concealing any anxieties that threatened your composure.

You would have thought Hades took a visit to Cabin 11 with the way everyone was scrambling around. Dozens of clothes littered the floor, the room looking as if a freight train plowed through. Luke was in the center of the mess, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully examined his outfit options.

“A suit is definitely too much, right? I mean, I think it would be weird to go completely dressed out.” He started, with Chris standing next to him as they both pondered.

“Yeah, yeah. Ditch the suit.” His friend replied, tossing the crisp attire back into the closet. 

“So do I wear the camp shirt or something else?” Luke interrogated the rest of the children.

“Camp shirt.” Chris said, but another older female camper chimed in.

“Obviously not. It’s a disgusting neon orange.” She declared, rolling her eyes.

“I think it makes him look devoted to the camp.” Chris defended.

“Oh please, it washes him out. Try this navy blue top.” The Hermes girl tossed a crinkled polo at him, turning away as he slipped the shirt on.

Luke looked in the mirror, pleased with his choice. All of his peers stared at him in judgment before coming to the conclusion that the deep blue suited him.

“Told you. Now hurry up. You can’t miss dinner.” She uttered, shooing him out of the packed cabin. 

All eyes were focused on him as he walked to supper since he was out of the appropriate attire. He snagged his dinner, rushing to sit next to you. 

“Cute shirt. A little late though; dinner's almost over.” You complimented, and the rest of your fashion-inclined siblings nodded in agreement. Luke felt his cheeks flush from your words and because of the overwhelming stares provided by campers.

“Thank you. I’m not really hungry anyway." He responded, which wasn’t a complete lie. His stomach was doing cartwheels as he counted down the minutes until the burnt offerings. As soon as the sound echoed through the air, he practically sprinted to be the first.

He slid almost all his food into the metal tin can (which he would definitely miss later that night when he went to bed hungry) and, with shaky hands, lit the dinner. The aroma of multiple dishes mixed into one and then set on fire was putrid, but luckily for Luke, that’s just what he needed to catch the attention of Aphrodite.

As she heard the pleads of the boy, who was begging for a conversation, and smelled the smoke, it was enough to send her spiraling down onto Earth. She was gorgeous—ten times prettier than any image Luke could have pictured in his head.

“I'm Luke Castellan.” He stumbled out nervously, but recollected and gathered his thoughts.

“I want to date your daughter, Y/N.” He declared, noticing the way the goddess looked away with anger. 

“And before you say anything,” he continued, “I swear I have the best intentions.” 

Aphrodite narrowed her eyes, inspecting him.

“I don’t know. Many boys just like you have claimed the same.” She spoke to him with such clarity.

“It’s different; I can promise you that. I’m a good kid.” He pleaded, growing desperate as he swallowed.

“You aren’t sounding much different than the children before you.” She replied, and Luke could tell she was about to walk away, so he did what he thought was best and blurted out what came to mind.

“I’ve never smoked, I pray to the gods every night, and to be honest, I rarely step foot out of camp. I’m healthy, I take care of myself, and I’m the best swordsman in camp—at least that’s what everyone says. I’m still a virgin, and I’ve never even glanced at another girl in any romantic way because the only one I have eyes for is your daughter. Please, ma’am.”

Aphrodite's eyebrows lifted, and her mouth agape at his sudden speil. She had to admit that it was quite impressive.

“Hm, I suppose you have made a compelling argument. I’ll let you take her out on one date, but only if it goes well will you be allowed to see her again. And she must approve of you.”

Luke smiled at her, letting out heavy breaths he didn't even know he was holding on to. 

“Thank you so much. I can assure you, you won’t regret it.” He thanked the goddess, who just shrugged and left him in the dark forest. Too thrilled to care, he joyfully jogged back to the cabins, where his bunkmates patiently waited.

He shoved his way inside, panting, excitement bubbling within him. The air in the cabin seemed to crackle with anticipation as everyone turned their attention toward him, their eyes lit with curiosity, waiting for him to spill the details of what had transpired.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, unable to contain the joy that surged through him. Instantly, the air was filled with the sound of cheers and joyous squeals, his friends erupting into a wave of celebratory exclamations.

“Well, sorta. As long as the first date goes okay,” Luke added, his enthusiasm slightly dampening as he lowered his head, a hint of uncertainty tainting the original exhilaration of his announcement. The cabin fell into a sudden hush, a sense of disappointment crushing the once great news. 

“Then we better get to planning,” Chris interjected, lighting a spark of hope. Everyone returned to their primary delirium, huddling together to craft the picture perfect night.

Campers threw out ideas for the date on the spot, ranging from the location to his preferred mannerisms. His sisters used their experiences with being a women to instruct him on how to act, telling him what was considered acceptable and what to avoid. The rest of his siblings and friends scoped out the land, deciding on the perfect site.

After enduring the lengthy schooling, Luke stole a fleeting moment away from his lesson, his heart set on sharing the newfound momentous revelation with you. The bonfire raged on, campers swarming around it like hungry sharks. Old friendships were being rekindled, and new bonds were forming. Admits the social circle stood you, who laughed as you spoke to the Apollo kids.

With a grin that illuminated his features, Luke observed you from a distance, captivated by the infectious positivity that radiated from you. As you strayed away from the chaotic crowd, your eyes met his. His feet propelled him forward, drawing him towards you. 

“Hey!” you greeted, your voice filled with genuine excitement as he approached.

“Hey! Guess what?” Luke's words tumbled out in a rush, his eagerness present as he awaited your reaction.

“What’s up?” you inquired, intrigued by his anxious body language.

“Your mom said yes,” Luke revealed, his expression a mix of anticipation and restrained enthusiasm.

“What?” you gasped, disbelief coloring your features before giving way to unbridled joy.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, the thrill evident in his voice.

Excitement flourished within you, causing you to leap into his arms, angelic laughter filling the atmosphere as he lifted you up and spun you around. The cutesy scene hooked the attention of others, whispers beginning to travel.

Like a raging wildfire, Luke's announcement spread swiftly through the crowd, resonating with everyone within earshot. Within minutes, the joyous information spread through the gathering. Some were jealous, spreading rumors the moment they heard them, and some were just happy for the two.

Neither of you cared about the whispers and gossiping of those around you, their chatter fading into the background as you were enveloped in his warm embrace. The world seemed to melt away as he gently set you down, his touch lingering on your skin.

As you looked up into his eyes, time seemed to stand still, and the intensity of your love was reflected in the depths of his gaze. With each beat of your heart, you felt a surge of affection wash over you, your gaze softening as you looked upon him with adoration. There, in the depths of his eyes, you found comfort, a sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside.

"7 o'clock okay for tomorrow?" Luke's voice broke through the haze, jolting you back to the present moment. His words sent a tingle of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Mhm," you murmured in response, your mind still lingering on the warmth of his touch, until a daughter of Demeter called you over, disrupting the spell cast by Luke. As you tore yourself away, a shiver raced down your spine, the absence of his soothing hands leaving you feeling strangely hollow.

In the darkness of the night, neither of you seemed able to sleep with the thought of each other prominent in your minds. Remembering all of the special moments you shared, even before today, summoned a mixture of emotions. If this date didn’t go according to plan, the memories would be permanently lost, drowned out by new experiences.

Eventually, Hypnos blessed you with a night’s rest, and before you knew it, it was 6 p.m., an hour before the long-awaited gathering with Luke. Your siblings were currently helping you get ready in the vast space that was the Aphrodite cabin.

"Do you know where he's taking you?" Urged your closest sister, her fingers deftly working through your hair as she leaned in.

Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you met her gaze in the mirror, uncertainty dancing in your eyes. "No, not really," you admitted with a sigh, feeling a knot of anticipation coiling in the pit of your stomach as you nervously tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"Oh gods!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination as she dropped the task of defining your hair, her attention now fully focused on the impending dilemma. With a sense of urgency, she hurriedly crossed the room to her bustling closet, the sound of fabric rustling filling the air as she searched for the perfect outfit.

You watched her with amusement, as she rummaged through her collection.

With a triumphant exclamation, she emerged from the depths of her closet, a victorious smile gracing her lips as she presented you with a selection of carefully curated outfits. "I'm sure we can find something that'll work," she declared with confidence, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she began to lay out the options before you.

She presented you with a breathtaking spring dress, its delicate fabric decorated with teensy flowers. You ran your fingers over the dainty material, embracing its beauty.

"It's perfect," you breathed in awe, your voice barely above a whisper, as you marveled at the garment.

"I know, right!" she exclaimed, her excitement infectious as she twirled around in delight. "This is so exciting! Your first date!" she continued, her words bubbling with enthusiasm as she continued to fuss over your appearance.

You attempted to summon a smile, but despite your best efforts, the flicker of unease in your eyes did not go unnoticed by your sister.  She gently squeezed your hand, a silent gesture of support and reassurance.

"What's wrong?" She questioned you softly, her hands pausing in their task of arranging your hair as she turned to look at you through the expansive vanity mirror.

"It's nothing, really. Just... anxious, I guess," you replied, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to find the right words to express the complexity of your thoughts.

"Hey, it'll go great. And if not, there's a long line of suitors out there waiting for you," she reassured you, her voice filled with warmth and understanding, "so I'm sure Mom would approve of at least one of them."

"But I don't want it to be them," you confessed, your voice shaky as you admitted your true feelings. "I want it to be Luke."

She slightly frowned, grabbing your head and leaning into you. You shut your eyes to block the tears, discovering a place of love in her arms. A sudden knock on the wood door interrupted the warmth of silence.

She hopped up with eager anticipation, practically skipping to the door to greet Luke. As she opened it, you seized the opportunity to slip into the closet and change into the dress she had requested.

Luke stood on the doorstep, his hands fidgeting with a bouquet of ethereal flowers, their petals shimmering in the sunlight. A hint of uncertainty flickered in his eyes as he glanced around, searching for you.

"Uh, is Y/N here?" he asked, his voice laced with nervousness as he scratched the back of his head.

"Yes, she is," your friend replied, her tone firm, her gaze locking onto Luke's with determination. "But before you go any further, I need to warn you. You must take excellent care of her, no matter what. Because if you don't, I'll come find you personally."

“I promise.” He stuck out his pinky, interlocking it with hers to signify an agreement he would uphold. Stepping outside the cramped enclosure, you checked your reflection and headed towards the door. 

"Hi!" you exclaimed, your voice ringing out into the air, breaking through the awkward tension that had settled between the two of them. Luke's shoulders visibly relaxed as he turned to face you, a sigh of relief escaping his lips upon noticing your presence.

"Hey." He whispered softly, capturing in the sight of you standing before him, your captivating looks leaving him momentarily speechless. You smiled, threading your arm between his and escaping the cabin. 

"I brought you these." Luke stated, his voice tinged with admiration as he handed you the colorful floral arrangement. You accepted the bouquet with a grateful smile, the fragrance of the flowers filling the air as you gently wafted them in your hand.

"Thank you," you replied sincerely, touched by his thoughtful gesture, "they're beautiful."

Lost in conversation, you continued hiking together, the winding path leading you deeper into the heart of the forest.

Unbeknownst to you, Luke had a destination in mind, his steps purposeful as he guided you along the trail . The scenery around you shifted, the dense foliage giving way to a small deserted landscape.

Atop the grassy bank, a thick picnic blanket lay spread out, its vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with the lush greenery that surrounded it. An assortment of fruits and treats adorned the blanket, ranging from juicy strawberries to decadent chocolates.

As you settled onto the blanket, the soft fabric cushioning your every movement, you couldn't help but marvel at the breathtaking scenery that unfolded before you. Stretching out into the distance was the icy blue lake, its surface shimmering in the golden light of the sun, which peeked over the horizon as if to witness the magic of the moment.

As the minutes flew by, the loud croaking of cicadas immersed and the sky gradually transformed into a canvas of twinkling stars.

Wrapped in Luke's arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the worries and uncertainties of the day melting away.

In that moment, as you lay together under the vast starlit sky, you felt a profound connection to Luke. A realization that filled you with a sense of joy and contentment, knowing that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Whether your mom approved of your relationship or not (spoiler alert: she did), it didn't matter. What mattered was that you were with Luke, and in his arms, protected from the surrounding cruel world.

#luke castellan fluff #luke castellan #liv’s writing ! #luke castellan x reader #laufey #aphrodite

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hi hello! Idk if your request is currently open or not, but I'd like to request a fic where the Reader is a member of the Smiling Critters, they're still alive due to Catnap's fondness of them. They're on his side but hate it, only doing it in exchange that Dogday wouldn't get hurt.

With Catnap's permission, they would visit Dogday and give him whatever food they could find ( let's say Catnap still has some fondness for Dogday inside of him ) but with limitations.

You can change the idea into how you prefer! Thank you in advance :D

Ps. Mind adding a scene where Dogday calls the Reader " Angel " and reminisces about Catnap's fondness for both of them? I hope it makes sense, I just melt seeing Dogday calling us Angel :'D

Here We Stay

Note || KSJSJSJD I loved writing this, everything makes sense :D My apologies I took so long to write this! Kinda short too but UUHHHHH-

WC || 1,176

Sypnosis || being a member of the Smiling Critters meant you would’ve died one way or another, but you didn’t. Now all you can do is hope for the best.

One of the worst possible things could be corporate greed, even just having good intentions yet the worst execution is a plausible answer. Just how could you be forced into this situation? Trying to make things worth Catnap’s while is harsh, the only reason you knew you were alive right now was merely because he was particularly fond of you and DogDay alike. He wasn’t the same after the fact the Prototype’s reign began, you weren’t aware of much yourself, so all of this was just plain scary to you.

All your friends just disappeared and died, some of which you didn’t know was happening. You only got all that information because of DogDay.

You hated the circumstance he was put in, it seemed so painful for one’s legs to be severed and just hung up there the way he is now.

Repeatedly however, DogDay has assured you he didn’t mind being like this so long as you were in good health. He couldn’t bear knowing he wouldn’t be able to do a single thing for one of the only friends he has left. So many of his friends were gone already, DogDay would elect to die for you if it meant you would live.

Truth be told, you had only exchanged the peace you had before so that DogDay would not get hurt anymore then he already has. Catnap had full will and the power to completely end your life otherwise, you just were scared. 

Sometimes when you could, you would take a look at the broken clock that had somehow still worked like normal–and think about what time it would be in the day–Is it nighttime? How about daytime. Oh how you wished you weren’t subject to things the way they are now, all because of the wretched rules of humans and even the abject rulings of the Prototype himself.

Why would Catnap even view that silly toy as a god anyway? Perhaps that was for him to know, and for you to find out. Once, your life isn’t in any danger any longer. Just maybe it will be possibly any hour now, one can only hope. 

Trying to scrounge the Factory for any possible food was getting harder and harder every hour, one could argue it may be the stupid little mice stealing those last precious crumbs away. You would argue it would be the little Wuggies, those small toys were objectively brisk–and limpid too (colors so closely related within the walls of the factory, you forget sometimes they are even there).

You try hard to not forget where you are, in order to get back to DogDay with food for him. That was the only reason you were even anywhere else and away from your sunny friend, you would still be close to him any chance you get on account of Catnap’s permission. 

You wished otherwise.

“Ugh!” Groaning, you step over the possible weak spots that would have you falling through the floor. “There has to be food around here somewhere..” You mention, notioning to the fact you had now stepped into an office. There would be bound to be food here!

With an ounce of hope, you began scrounging the office for any possible heaps of food that you find. Ruffling through any drawers and papers, this office seemed to be a mess. You paid no mind to the messes anyway, there are bound to be messes since the last ten years in Playtime Co. 

“Success! Haha!” You triumphantly hold a bundle of donuts in your hand, “Take that Hour of Joy!” 

Winding down from your self inflated permeated success, you began making your way back to DogDay. You’d have to speak to Catnap to get to him first unfortunately, you always hated this part. Nonetheless, it was necessary.

You picked up the phone, already dialing Catnap to inform him of current conditions. You carefully had curated your words, you always did this when you spoke to him which ever way.

His deep voice rumbled soundly in your ears, “Food, for him?” 

“Yes.” You silently groan, kicking a benign rock stubble as you stand around while awaiting his confirmation. Why the hell was he so scary to you? Though, Catnap’s voice was oddly reassuring when he spoke without malcontent. For a moment, there was a long pause. 

You swore you could hear someone screaming and pleading to the giant purple cat; you felt bad for the unlucky victim that had crossed paths with Catnap.

“...” Then the phone hung up, you sighed a breath of relief that you could visit DogDay. Many things you would do for him just aside visiting, was having to loop in Catnap on whatever the contents of the material you would bring in hand with you. You knew the cat well enough his pause of silence meant yes. 

Well, you can go now at least. You don’t even want to recount the last time you had brought something to DogDay without telling Catnap. 

You stepped over the rubble that had led up to the heretic altar, you recognize he is one of the many dubbed a heretic, you truly wished he wasn’t in so much pain this way. Though immediately another thought crossed your mind.

This hallway needed some serious cleaning up to do.

A strained voice pulled you from your thoughts, “You didn’t have to bring anything my friend.” DogDay was being positive about you as per usual, you sighed as you stepped up to him then sat down as your legs were weary and tired. 

“DogDay we are friends, I’d do anything for you.” You motion, taking out a donut so you could feed it to him. Though in a rare few circumstances you were allowed to free DogDay’s hands so he could eat himself. Unfortunately it was not one of those circumstances. He took a willing bite, chewing it up as he savored it. 

For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to articulate anything, “Do you, remember how he was before… Angel?” DogDay was still mournfully thinking about Catnap’s old self, which he had every right to do. Knowing someone for as long as you would, then that someone changing so drastically–especially not in a good way–can be startling. 

You fed him another bite of the donut you held in your hand, “How could I forget? He was quite silent, sure enough. But he was always considering each and every one of us.” You nod with a tilted head. Oh, if you had the chance to turn back the clock and change things, you would’ve done it all in a heartbeat. 

Sincerely, you were scared. Scared for Catnap, scared for DogDay. All your possibly living friends you know are still alive. 

You grin slightly, wanting to alleviate the conversation and change the subject, “You might need a cleaning.” DogDay couldn’t help but bark–reminiscent of laughter–at your words. He shifted himself noticeably, most likely to bear the weight from one end to another. And remove the discomfort for a little bit before it would dare come back. 

“You may be right, my angel.”

"One can only hope."

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime x reader #dogday poppy playtime #x reader #ah he’s so cute #I’m MELTINGGGF

[emoangel44]

The thing I've always loved most about aa4 is how much darker the tone is than the rest of the series in a way that isn't just edgy for the sake of it, but subverts your expectations from the original 3 games in a really interesting way. The trilogy was built upon the trust Phoenix had in others, and it was something we as players could almost always feel certain in. AA4 flips this on its head and makes it so Apollo effectively can't trust anyone but himself.

Your mentor, who the in the trilogy was a paragon of wisdom you could always turn to no matter what, gets revealed to be the culprit and sent to jail in the first trial and by the end of the game his list of crimes has stacked high but you still have so few answers on why he did any of it.

Your boss, the goofy protagonist of the trilogy, is now inexplicably a washed-up, disgraced, cheating poker player with an implied drinking problem who seemingly found a new hobby in evidence forgery and jury rigging.

He has a codependent relationship with his daughter, your assistant, who usually is a completely innocent and hapless victim of circumstance. She sees herself as the provider for the house and will help her father cheat at poker, or forge evidence, or guilt trip the poor attorney they knowingly screwed of out of a job into working for them for dirt cheap.

The detective, the only other returning main character, a previous assistant, is completely changed since we last saw her. In the trilogy she was chipper and bright despite the hardships she faced, and now she's unfriendly and burned out, turned bitter by the world. The scene we're first properly introduced to her in Apollo genuinely spends several minutes thinking his boss is making him bribe her with cocaine.

Every single defendant is a criminal guilty of something other than what they're charged for. Each case centers around an underground black-market poker ring, a mafia family and medical malpractice, a smuggling ring, and a family of forgers and an incredibly shady troupe of magicians. The one thing all of these people have in common is that none of them will tell you literally anything about what's happening, half of them clearly reveling in being as big of cryptic assholes as possible.

The only person who doesn't fit this description is, for once, the prosecutor. Usually your biggest obstacle and the most morally corrupt of the main cast, he's the only person who's both 100% on the side of truth and on the same page as you for the entire game. He's just as clueless as you, being used nothing more than a chess piece just like you are.

But the truly masterful thing about AA4 is how morally grey it is. These characters aren't just one note villains. They're not even villains at all. Most of them aren't even malicious.

Your boss, for all the low levels he stoops to, is underneath it all the same guy he's always been, doing everything he can to bring a criminal to justice and protect his family. Your assistant is a sweet girl who truly cares about you, she's just prioritizing herself and her fathers safety before anything else. The detective is the same passionate and kind woman under everything else. The rest of the defendants are genuinely well-meaning young people who got involved in shady stuff they didn't fully understand.

The game is filled with good people trying to make the best of bad circumstances. The game has just as many fun moments as the original trilogy. For all it's rough appearance, the game has a similar heart. For every unanswered question or unrighted wrong, there's a smile or a hope for a better future. For every bad action, there's usually someone trying their best behind it. The game is melancholic and dark, but isn't afraid to let good shine through. It knows there's no shadows without the light.

#ace attorney #ace attorney apollo justice #aa4 #ajaa #post rescued from my drafts

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty-Seven - The Hardest Thing Is Letting Go

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

1.9K words

Warnings: Funeral

guy's im still so sorry for this one, it's incredibly angsty - I promise I'll make things fluffier soon

Series Masterlist

"There was a time when I was afraid of the world. I was afraid of what was happening in my life and what it was becoming. I was afraid of the world we find ourselves being apart of."

Y/N had never addressed a room like this. Each and every mafia boss stared at her. Her own husband stared at her, with admiration in his eyes, Lando too. He was so proud of his little sister for doing something like this.

She shouldn't have to do it. The fact that she was standing in front of everybody to honour her best friend was astounding.

Tears were ready to fall, but Y/N wouldn't let them. She was going to be strong. For Oscar.

"There was one person who I could count on when I was this scared. He watched over me, kept me company and made me feel normal. There were times when I was breaking down and he'd play some music and get me to dance, taking my mind off of everything.

"That man was Oscar Jack Piastri."

She'd started writing this letter the moment that Carlos had gotten her back to Spain. It had started out as a letter to Oscar, with a lot more in it than she was willing to say in his funeral.

"Oscar wasn't a part of the Norris family," she continued. "In theory, we were never destined to meet. Every day since he first came into my life, I thank my lucky stars that we had him on loan from Webber."

Her hands shook as she turned the page.

"Without Oscar, I wouldn't be here today. He saved my life in so many ways. There was a time in my life, without him by my side, I would have ended it all."

The tears were free flowing now. Carlos stood from his seat and came to stand beside his wife, trying to gently coax her to sit down, but she wouldn't. She had a a speech to make.

She skipped over the next little section. That bit was for her and her only. "Oscar was the bravest of us all. He endured so much. He didn't have to be harsh or domineering to show just what power he had.

"But he was also kind and sweet." He was my soulmate, in the most platonic sense of the word.

Platonic, Y/N thought. But a small part of her was so sure, had circumstances been different, it would be Oscar she was in love with, Oscar who was holding her through the night. Even if they were still in with world of crime and mafia families, if Y/N didn't have to marry Carlos, she was sure she and Oscar would have been together.

She knew this before she got married, but she couldn't say anything. In another universe she would have loved Oscar.

"He saved my life more than once, and I will never be able to repay that debt," she said, wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks. "He was the very best of us and our world will never be the same without him. Oscar-" But she stopped, just a second to compose himself. "Oscar..."

This time, when Carlos wrapped his arms around her, Y/N fell into him, crying against his chest. He held her for a moment, stroked her back and ran his fingers through her hair.

He moved Y/N behind him and addressed his fellow heads of family. "Oscar became a very dear friend of mine. Without him, I wouldn't have my beautiful wife standing by my side. To that, I say we raise our glasses-" Nobody had a glass in hand "-to a man we will sorely miss."

It was different to the funeral of Norris. The grief Y/N felt was different, harder to deal with.

After the funeral, Carlos took his wife home. They sat in the very back of the car as they were driven to the Webber plane hangar. Lando had organised food for everybody for after the funeral, but Y/N just couldn't be here. And Carlos knew it, too.

They sat beside each other on the jet, her head on Carlos's shoulder as she cried herself to sleep. Oscar was gone. The words still felt foreign to her.

It was incredibly long flight, with the couple stopping over in Malaysia. They had been the ones to take Oscar's body back to Australia, back to his family, to be buried. It meant a long trip for them, but they didn't care. After all that Oscar had done for them, this was the least they could do for him.

It was near a day later that they touched down in Spain. Their stay in Madrid had been short lived, just long enough to refuel the Spain. They should have stayed in Australia, the couple thought. But that was too painful.

Carlos drove them back to the house. He kept his hand on her leg as the radio played quietly, filling the space between them. They didn't have to speak; it wouldn't help anything for the time being.

"I wish he could have met baby Oscar," she whispered as they approached the gate in front of the house. She cradled her bump with one hand, the other on top of Carlos's.

Before the funeral, Carlos had insisted that they go to the hospital, for Y/N's first prenatal check up. They found out just how far along she was and the sex of the baby.

As soon as they found out they were having a boy, she knew they had to call him Oscar. Oscar Sainz, after the man that had saved his life. His middle name was chosen by his father. Pau, a Spanish name. OP Sainz. Their baby was OP Sainz.

Carlos drove through the gates when they opened and pulled into the garage. He opened the car door for Y/N and held her hand as they walked through the house. The house was different now, it felt colder somehow.

"I'm going to get us guard dogs," he said as they climbed the stairs.

Y/N nodded her head as she walked through the hall, heading towards the room that Carlos and Oscar had decorated for the baby. She hadn't seen it yet, just listened as Carlos told her about it to try and calm her down.

Her breath caught in her throat as she walked into the nursery. "You two did all of this?" She asked as she looked around the room, They had done everything, put up shelves and built the drawers and wardrobe. They'd painted the walls and set up the crib, including a little tee-pee tent full of cushions and blankets.

There was a blanket in the crib, one decorated with giraffes. Y/N picked it up and held it close to her chest as she looked around the room. Her husband and her best friend had done all of this for her baby. It was a living memory to Oscar, just like the baby would be.

"I'm thinking of painting his name on the door," said Carlos as Y/N turned towards him.

Y/N put the blanket back and fell against her husband, pressing her lips to his. "My wonderful husband," she whispered, her eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly.

He took her hand and walked her out to the window. "Take a look," he said and she looked to where the golf course used to be.

Carlos had set up an entire play area for their child. If Y/N had the strength to cry, she would have. But she couldn't anymore, her body too exhausted.

"What would you like for dinner, mi corazon?" He asked, his finger trailing up her arm.

"I just want to sleep, Carlos," she croaked, exhausted.

That was fine, he'd let her sleep. Carlos followed her out of the nursery. He watched as Y/N turned left, heading back to her old room. That was right, he hadn't told her yet. "Querida, wait!" He called as he grabbed a hold of her arm. "This way."

Carlos led her into his bedroom, the bedroom they now shared. He'd moved all of her things in during those twelve weeks that he had been alone. He sat her on the bed and got her changed into her loosest and comfiest pyjamas. "Sleep, mi corazon. I'll have dinner for you ready when you take up," he said and pulled the sheets back.

Y/N climbed under it. She closed her eyes as Carlos kissed her forehead and left the room.

He spent the next few hours making his way through work. It was comforting, having things back to normal. Or, as normal as they could be. Most of the work he went through was sorting through his fathers affairs.

After three hours of working, there was a knock at the office door. He glanced up briefly and returned to his work. "Not now, madre," he muttered under his breath as he strode into the room.

"¿Y? ¿Ya no hablamos nuestra lengua materna?" She asked as she sat in the seat opposite him. (And? Don't we speak our native language anymore?)

Letting out a sigh, Carlos looked up from his work and placed his pen down. "Podemos hablar nuestra lengua materna, madre. ¿Qué te gustaría hablar?" (we can speak our mother tongue, mother. What would you like to talk about?)

"No hemos tenido una cena familiar desde que murió tu padre," she said, correcting her posture and sitting up straighter. (We haven't had a family dinner since your father died.)

Carlos shut his eyes for a moment. It was their first night back in the house since Y/N's kidnapping. "Por favor madre. No es una cena familiar a menos que mi esposa esté allí. Después de todo lo que él ha pasado, ella necesita tiempo." (please mother It's not a family dinner unless my wife is there. After everything he's been through, she needs time.)

He stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he began as he switched back to English. "I'm going to make my wife some dinner."

Carlos strode out of his office, leaving his mother where she was.

And he really did make Y/N dinner. He didn't ask the cooks to do it, he got stuck in and made her something to eat. It was surprising, just how good of a cook Carlos was. It was also surprising how much he enjoyed it.

He made her dinner, along with a side of buttered toast, just in case she didn't want what he made her. He walked it up to the bedroom and placed it on the dresser as he gently woke her up. He whispered her name and shook her shoulder gently. "Wake my, mi amor. I made you dinner."

Y/N opened her eyes. It was clear from the way she stared at him, eyes wide, that her sleep hadn't been peaceful. Carlos placed the plates in front of her as she sat her. "Here, querida," he said and pulled the cutlery from his pocket.

She dug into her dinner, eating it all (including the toast). "My wonderful husband," she said as he placed the plates back onto the dresser.

Carlos climbed onto the bed and sat himself beside her. He grabbed a hold of her and pulled her onto his lap. "I love you," he whispered, his forehead pressed against hers. "My beautiful wife. I'm never going to let you go."

She grabbed his cheeks and lifted his mouth to hers.

Taglist (CLOSED): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @formulaal @graciewrote @biancathecool @evans-dejong @sparklyperfectionstranger @venusesworld @goldenharrysworld @cassie0sstuff @gracielukey @watermelonworries @celesteblack08 @shobaes @chonkybonky

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader smut #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #cs55 #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #mafia!f1 #mafia!au

[thepixelelf]

ah! love - 3

genres: married life au, family au, fluff, a little... angst? but we know it ends up okay (best friends to lovers) relationship: husbands 95 line x reader (feat. baby doremi line) words: 2.0k warnings: none notes: joshua centric!! also they live somewhere where it gets cold sometimes. I know that Joshua's had a little less time in the a!l spotlight, so I hope this satisfies the shushus[?] out there! this is the first >1k bday fic I've written in a while idk what came over me lol

ah! love masterlist

Joshua saves the day...wait, the night?

Joshua loves his kids. More than anything, though that thought sometimes scares him if he thinks too hard about it. The point is, he loves his sticky little mischievous imps, no matter how many times they throw up in the middle of the night, or run around with food half-chewed in their mouths because they've yet to develop a fear of choking like he and the rest of his partners have, or the half a million other things they don't warn you about parenthood. He loves his sons, end of sentence. Period.

But that's not to say they were his idea. Like a lot of the current life he feels overwhelmingly lucky to live, none of this was his idea. He hadn't even dreamed of it -- even his sleeping consciousness couldn't have been so creative as to spin the love story that led to his present. He hadn't fathomed marrying you and his other two best friends.

The marriage was Seungcheol's idea. But apparently you and Jeonghan were already thinking about it, too.

Joshua had been entirely caught off guard.

He was thinking too rigidly, he realized. Their marriage isn't legally recognized in any sense, and it was for that reason that he'd never even considered it in the first place... but it's still his marriage, whether penned and signed or not. There are three rings on his finger to prove it.

The kids were Jeonghan's idea. Well. The kid was sort of his, Seungcheol's and your idea. Jeonghan had said he'd always dreamed of having two kids -- a boy and a girl, like him and his little sister. You'd had your own fears about children, as did Seungcheol. You were scared you wouldn't know how to parent, wouldn't be able to raise a child in the way they deserved. Seungcheol worried how a child raised in their unconventional family would be treated by their peers. They'd all chosen the life they would live together, society's judging eyes be damned, but the child wouldn't have a choice, least of all an informed one.

Over the breakfast that was long forgotten after Jeonghan made his casual suggestion and vulnerable confession, you and Seungcheol eventually needled him down to one kid. Maybe.

As for Joshua, he didn't say a word. He was too lost in his own head, imagining a swaddled baby in your arms, and you in his. A shimmering mirage of his lips pressed upon your forehead, before he bent slightly to kiss the baby's tiny hands.

One kid may have been Jeonghan's, Seungcheol's, and your idea, but with Joshua, and circumstances as they were, you came home with three.

So perhaps some of this was his idea.

Not this, though.

"Papa...?"

Joshua blinks himself awake. His room is mostly dark, but warm light filters in from the hallway. The culprit? A little boy with one hand on the doorknob and the other wiping the corner of his bleary eye. Joshua can't tell who it is by looks alone, since the boy is all but a silhouette in the doorway, but he knows from the sound of his voice that it's Vernon.

Slowly, he removes his arm from around your waist. It's unlucky, maybe, that tonight you chose to sleep in Joshua's room, and then Vernon decided this was the place to be, too. He scoots away from you, then tries to lightly step across the room to kneel in front of Vernon. "Hey, bud," he whispers, trying desperately not to wake you up after a long day. "Can't sleep?"

"Bad dream," Vernon mutters.

⭒-⭒-⭒

"Bad dream?" Joshua sat up from the couch he was sleeping on just a minute ago, and he watched you whip around like a kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

But you only had a glass of water in your hand, and you winced as you turned off the tap. "Sorry. I was trying not to wake you."

"You didn't." Not really, anyway. The couch wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep on in the first place, which was why he offered you his room to sleep in while you needed a place to stay for the night. Actually, both Jeonghan and Seungcheol had offered their beds too, and it became a bit of a squabble, but you'd settled things by just picking the room offered to you first.

"Liar," you said, and even though the only light in the room came from the moon through the balcony windows, he could hear the smile the word came through. Still, there was a certain tiredness in your voice.

"Seriously. What's wrong?"

A sigh left you.

"Come, sit," he insisted. "Talk to me. You know I'll annoy it out of you eventually."

Another sigh came from you, but this one of reluctant, amused acceptance. You walked across the combined kitchen slash living space in in their three-room apartment, set your water on the coffee table, and sat on the other end of the couch from him. Too far for his liking.

"What's your mood like tonight?" you asked him as you relaxed into the cushions, your head resting so that you stared at the ceiling.

"On what scale?"

"Hm... holiday rom coms?"

He thought hard for a second. "The Princess Switch 2: Switched Again."

You snorted, rubbing your hands over your face. "Not good then?"

"Well, you did have to abandon your apartment because the heat turned off and your dumb landlord is completely MIA." He shifted his body to face you, one arm propped up on the back of the couch to lean his head on. "But you showed up here wearing a comedic amount of layers, so the day had its funny moments."

A laugh bubbled from your throat, and Joshua found himself smiling in the dark. "I guess you're right. How's your mood in terms of..." You let your head flop to the side to look at him. "...a hug?"

He had to wonder sometimes if you had absolutely no idea what he would do for you if you asked. A hug wouldn't be on that list-- it was so easy that it didn't even constitute consideration.

But his heart warmed, because even though he knew he'd never refuse to give you something so simple as a hug, you knew he wasn't constantly the physical affection kind of guy. You wanted to ask him. You wanted his comfort, but only if he was willing.

God, was he willing.

"All yours." He opened up his arms, and you all but sank into him.

You both stayed like that for a while, silent, but warm. He was satisfied with you in his arms, but he could tell your mind was still stewing.

"You gonna tell me what's got you up so late?" he muttered, rubbing his thumbs back and forth on your sides.

"Do you ever think about the future, Joshua?"

Sometimes. But it was always with you in it. "Not really."

Leaning back, he brought you to lie almost on top of him, so now he was the one staring at the ceiling.

You sighed. "I try not to... at least not too much. But sometimes, on nights like these, I'm scared that I..."

He waited for you to continue, but when you didn't, he gently patted your back. "That you what?"

"That I want too much."

Joshua breathed in. Held that air for a few more seconds than necessary. Breathed out. He wondered if it would always be like this-- you being brave enough to speak aloud the fears he kept locked up.

"Don't be scared," he whispered, because what else could he say?

Me too?

No. He couldn't know if you meant it in the same way he felt, and it would be selfish to let his words and feelings out now, while his two other best friends were asleep mere meters away.

You chuckled, as if to dispel any vulnerability you'd revealed. "Easy for you to say."

You had no idea.

"I'll protect you."

"Ah, right. Did you read my mind? We'll have to sleep out here tonight."

Not yet catching up to your joke, Joshua loosened his arms around you and furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

You lifted your head, a cheeky, bitable smile on your lips. Your voice lowered to a conspiratorial hush. "There's a monster under your bed."

⭒-⭒-⭒

Joshua ends up in the kitchen downstairs, all three boys sitting on the counter since Papa Seungcheol isn't there to discourage it. He tried to help Vernon right back into bed, he swears, but as soon as Seungkwan roused from his sleep and asked Vernon what was wrong, a conspiracy of monsters under each of their beds spiralled out of control. Even Chan got dragged in, heavy sleeper that he is.

Now, Joshua's showing them his ultra-secret monster repellent recipe. He melts an ice cube on a warm pan like a slab of butter, then pours warm water over it. Hiding more ice in his hands, he pretends to pull it from the pantry and adds that to the "mixture" too.

The boys watch, entranced and more than a little tired, as Joshua carefully pours the pan's contents into a measuring cup filled with yet more ice. He then pours that into a spray bottle they use to water the plants and screws the lid on. "There," he says proudly, presenting the bottle in front of the boys like it's a fine wine.

"What's going on down here?" your soft voice comes from the bottom of the stairway.

Joshua winces. "I was hoping I wouldn't wake you."

"It's alright," you say, though he can tell you're still fatigued. You walk over to the kitchen and pet the first boy's head that you reach, Chan's. "What are you all doing up?"

While Vernon makes grabby hands for you to run your fingers through his hair as well, Seungkwan answers. "Papa Shua's making monster-go-away juice."

"Monster-go-away juice?" you echo, then turn to Joshua with feigned shock and a quiet gasp. "Not your secret recipe?"

Joshua smiles. You're always so quick to match his humour. "I know." He throws the boys a look before meeting your eyes with full, teasing seriousness. "But I think they're ready."

Your eyes glimmer with laughter, but you hold yourself back for the sake of the bit. Turning to your sons, you wag your finger. "This is powerful stuff, boys. You have to use it carefully."

Chan's eyes are wide, sparkling with awe as he takes in your every word. Seungkwan and Vernon are equally rapt. Joshua's going to have to explain all this to the more straightforward husbands tomorrow, but tonight? Seeing the adorable looks on his sons faces and the playful tilt of yours is totally worth it.

"But don't worry," he chimes in. "It only works on monsters. It's harmless to humans. See?"

In a flash, he points the bottle at you and pulls the trigger, spraying a thin mist of water-water right in your face. You flinch in surprise, affronted, but only Joshua can tell. You laugh, then look at the boys again. "See? Nothing." You snatch the spray bottle from him. "It doesn't do anything to papa Joshua, either."

Okay, he thinks as you spray him not once, but three times, he deserves that.

"Now, papa Joshua and I are going to take care of any monsters, and then we're all gonna go to sleep, okay?"

The boys nod, and Vernon yawns, then motions for you to pick him up. You send a look Joshua's way, and he sends one right back. He gathers both Seungkwan and Chan in his arms, but before you start the trek up the stairs, he stops you. Each of the sons in his arms get a kiss to the top of their head, and then he leans over and presses one to your temple. Lastly, he bends down and, while Vernon has raised his arm to once again rub his eyes, Joshua kisses his tiny little hand. Just like he imagined over breakfast not so long ago.

No, waking up in the middle of the night to save his sons from imaginary monsters was never his idea. Neither was this life, or this family.

But Joshua wouldn't have to any other way.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #poly svt x reader #poly seventeen x reader #joshua hong scenarios #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong x reader #svt x reader #kpop scenarios #svt scenarios #svt imagines #kpop imagines #a!l.collection #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #scoups x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan x reader #choi seungcheol scenarios #choi seungcheol imagines #choi seungcheol x reader #yoon jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan x reader

[jamespotterismydaddy]

The Wolf's Betrothed

dark!aemond x niece!reader

summary: prepare to be kidnapped by your delulu uncle

A/N: this is based off a request that asked for non-con so this is the closest i've written to it but i still think it's dub-con??? idk pls lmk what you think

TW: MAJOR DUBCON, incest, smut, knife kink, blood kink,, breeding kink, forced marriage, murder

word count: 1,929

You feel content. Cregan Stark is a good, honourable man and he will make a fine husband, is what you continue to repeat in your head as your carriage makes its way to Winterfell. You travel without your family, being sent early to meet your husband to be and you’re nervous. You met few Northernmen on Dragonstone and you fear the cold, but you know it’s for the best. This alliance could be the thing that puts your mother on the throne. Though, as you get closer to your destination, a sense of dread begins to set in. 

That’s when you hear it, the beating of wings, shortly followed by screaming. The carriage comes to a halt so swift that you’re thrown from your seat.

“Princess!” One of your handmaidens exclaims as she helps you back up.

“I-I’m alright.” You say as you find your footing. You make your way to the door. “We must go.”

“Perhaps we should wait for the guards?” The other girl says nervously.

“They’re as good as dead.” You say as you throw open the door. Your men that are left, fight for their lives against the few green soldiers. They don’t need many when they have a dragon. You glance up to the sky and see her… Vhagar.

“Fuck.” You murmur as you hop to the ground, your handmaidens on your tail as you begin to run towards the forest.

You pant as you go, trying not to trip on your long skirts, snow filling your boots. You know you need a plan but the only weapon you have is a small dagger and you’ve never been a great talent in hand-to-hand combat.

You’re close to the treeline now, barely 200 yards away. You know Aemond won’t torch it if he thinks you’re in there. All you have to do is make it. To. The. Treeline.

But you don’t. It goes up in flames in front of you and you have to turn and shield your face from the heat. Your handmaiden, who was in a much less elaborate dress than you, made it further, and she goes up in flames with it. You turn, grabbing the hand of the other girl and begin to go south before you see three men waiting for you. You turn north and begin to run but you don’t make it far before Vhagar lands in front of you.

“No…” You breathe out as you backup, your handmaiden clinging to your arm. You know you’re caught now.

Two men catch up to you and grab you each by the shoulders, giving you no time to draw your dagger as Aemond descends his dragon.

“Dōna mandianna.” (sweet niece) He says as he approaches. “Sepār hae gevie hae nyke mōrī ūndan ao.” (just as beautiful as I last saw you) He tilts your chin up gently.

“Release my bride. You can do as you wish with that one.” He says to his guards as he glances at your handmaiden. The two men grab her.

“Princess, help me!” She cries out as she’s taken away.

“She’s no threat.” You say to your uncle, glaring up at him.

“My men deserve a reward.” He says offhandedly and you begin to wish she had died in the fire as well. You wish you died in the fire. His hand comes up to caress your face. “I have missed you.”

“I miss my brother.” You say with hate in your eyes.

“Hmm, an unfortunate circumstance.” He replies.

“Kinslayer.” You spit out at him.

He sighs and puts his hand on the small of your back. He is courteous with you, for now, as he leads you toward Vhagar. You let him, biding your time. He straps you in in front of him, his fingers gentle with you, as if you are the most precious thing he has ever laid his hands on.

No chance to jump then. You think to yourself, wishing you could’ve taken him with you once Vhagar was high enough to make the fall fatal.

You don’t speak to each other as he takes you closer to Winterfell. You look solemnly at the scorched land. It’s a pity to see, especially since it is the start of Spring. It should have been the start of new life, not the end of it. He holds his hand out to help you down the dragon and you accept it, glad that he chose not to make you grovel. You know he could. You know he’s not above such things. He keeps his hand on the small of your back as he leads you through the castle, the place crawling with Greens.

You arrive at Lord Stark’s chambers, Aemond letting you in. You’re slightly surprised when you don’t see Cregan but you think perhaps that your uncle is keeping him in the dungeons instead. “And what of my husband?” Aemond freezes when you use the word. 

“That cunt wasn’t your husband.” He says lowly.

“Wasn’t or isn’t?” You ask, not fully believing that he would kill the lord of Winterfell. You back up slightly. Aemond may be in front of the door but you wish to put some distance between you.

“I would not let them trap you with that mutt.” He says as he steps forward. You step back. “You deserve someone worthy of your status.”

“Aemond…” You breathe out, your eyes well with tears.

“It was always meant to be you and I. I’ll take care of you… I love you.” His eye gleams, his words full of possession.

You’re aware that you’ll only have this one chance so you reach for the sheathed dagger. You know you can’t kill him, but you can break him. You lift the blade to your throat in one quick motion but it’s too late, Aemond’s hand is on yours before you can break skin. He yanks the dagger from your hand and throws it to the side.

“Why would you do that!” He looks manic, frightened as he holds your wrists in his hands.

“Cregan!” You cry out as a last resort. You know it’s futile but it’s the only thing you can think of. “Cregan!”

Your uncle slams a hand over your mouth, hot rage in his eyes. “Stop screaming for him! He’s dead! I killed him.” His other hand falls to your waist. “If it is a husband you yearn for, I can fix that.” He takes the hand off your mouth to grab his own dagger.

“I don’t want any husband. I want him!” You slam your fists against Aemond’s chest.

“No you don’t!” He shouts back and he shifts behind you, pulling your back to his front, holding his dagger to you with one hand and your chin with the other. “It is that silly feminine loyalty. But don’t worry, it will be towards me soon enough.” 

He holds your face tightly and lifts the dagger to your lip, cutting ever so gently. Just enough to get a drip of blood. He lets you break yourself free and run to the door so he can slit his own lip. You yank on the door handle but it’s locked and before you can even turn, Aemond’s hand is in your hair, pulling your mouth towards his. The kiss is messy and bloody but by Old Valyrian standards, you are wed. Your uncle barely gives you a chance to come up for air as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You whimper slightly as he sucks on your lip, mixing your blood further. 

“You didn’t think I was going to bed you without making you my wife first, did you?” He says so softly, the kind look in his eyes misplaced. “I would never do that to you.”

“Please don’t.” You beg him.

“Why must you look so frightened? I only want to make love to you, to my bride.” He moves behind you, nimble fingers undoing your dress. “I don’t like it when you fight with me. I want us to be happy.” He tugs the gown down so you’re only in your shift. Just the sight of your ankles, your shoulders is enough for him to go crazy with lust. He can feel himself growing in his trousers the longer he looks at you. “My beautiful girl, ñuha ābrazȳrys.” (my bride) He coos, mesmerized by you.

You’re pulled in for another kiss and you nip at his lip. He groans as he parts his mouth from yours.

“Be gentle with me and I shall do the same with you.” You know it’s a warning, a warning that you should most definitely heed. “We will have more time to play later, darling but for now, we must consummate immediately.” He says as he leads you to the bed by your hand. He places a palm on your tummy. “I shall pray to the Gods’ that my seed takes tonight.”

“Of course, husband.” Your voice is emotionless but he still seems pleased by your words.

He smiles and then lifts off your shift. His cold fingertips trace over your breasts and collarbones, and down to your navel before he hooks them on your small clothes and pulls them down. “Your beauty is unmatched, my love” He says as his eye runs over your body. “Lie down on the bed for me.” He watches you walk and obey as he undoes his trousers. Your husband doesn’t take any of his clothes off, only pulling his cock out and beginning to pump it as he gazes at you. You’re nervous as he is incredibly well-endowed but you are inclined to believe that he won’t be rough with you.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He says as he climbs between your legs, noticing your fear. “It won’t hurt for long.” He takes a moment to rub his cockhead over your cunt, using his precum as lube before slipping in.

You gasp at the intrusion, the feeling of your maidenhead breaking as he defiles you but he doesn’t move at first, only peppering kisses across your face that are almost… comforting?

“I’m going to move now.” He says and begins to slide in and out, causing you to wince.

“Not yet, it hurts…” You say to him but he just runs his thumb over the cut on your lip.

“You can take it, darling.” He replies as he thrusts in and out of you. He licks the blood off his thumb before using it to rub your clit. You hate how you enjoy the feeling. “Good girl.” He says as he begins to pick up speed. He rubs harder, clearly far too close to cumming himself and not wanting to be the only one. “I love you.”

You turn your head away as he says it and he begins to fuck into you harder, pinching your clit now and causing you to scream. If he can’t make you love him, then he can just make you cum. 

As soon as he feels you begin to squeeze your walls around him, he finishes, sheathing his cock as deep as he can inside of you in hopes of breeding you.

“My perfect wife.” He admires as he runs his fingers through your hair. He presses a kiss to your lips before resting his head on your breasts so he can listen to your heartbeat.

You lie there, confused. Part of you wants him to fuck you again, the other part hopes he falls asleep so you can drive his own dagger through his heart.

Oh the woes of newlyweds.

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 7 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey

#aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd smut #aemond smut #aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond #aemond targaryen smut

[starsinmylatte]

Maybe Silco with a motherly Fem!Reader who adores Jinx? Something with breeding & pregnancy? Domestic bliss please?

Soft

Oooh, I do love some good domestic bliss... and I've always loved the idea of Silco's lover being a motherly figure for Jinx. Tbh, it would've solved so many problems in the show....

Rating: Explicit. 18+ ONLY, minors DNI

Pairing: Silco x Afab!reader.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Breeding kink, sliiiiight degradation, Silco fantasizes about pregnant reader, cockwarming, y'all already know what's up

Join my taglist here!

(By clicking read more, you agree that you are 18+. Minors DNI)

You were by far the softest thing in Silco’s life. The Eye of Zaun -the most feared kingpin in all of the Undercity- was not a man who usually enjoyed life's softer, sweeter things, but you were the one exception.  

He could still vividly remember the day you showed up at his door, demanding to see Powder. Silco had wanted nothing more than to laugh. It was ridiculous, the way you showed up alone and completely unarmed to The Last Drop and demanded things from him of all people. Under any normal circumstance, you would’ve never gotten past his bouncers at the door, but he could barely get Jinx to eat or respond to him. Her door was locked, and the lock was reinforced from the inside…. he was worried about his new daughter, and you seemed to know her. So, against his better judgment, Silco took one look at the motherly concern you seemed to show for Jinx and brought you to her door. 

He watched carefully as you knelt in front of the door and took a deep, calming breath. “Darling, I know it’s been so hard, and you’ve been so brave… could you please come out and eat something? For me?” The door flew open in a blinding flash of unkempt, neon blue hair, and Jinx was in your arms. The small girl was sobbing and clutching you so tightly, almost like she was afraid you’d disappear at any second. She was trying to say something, but her sobs distorted her words to the point they were unrecognizable. 

You pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, picking her up as she buried her face into the crook of your neck. Silco watched in shock as you stood and turned to face him calmly. “What are your thoughts on soup?.” 

In the span of five minutes, you had nearly kicked his door in to see Jinx, gotten her to come out of her room for the first time in a few days, and now you were asking him about…. soup??

“Excuse me?” He managed to say, a look of pure bewilderment still plastered on his usually smug face. 

“She likes it, so I’m going to make some. You don’t look like you’ve eaten recently either, so I want to know if I need to make enough for three.” Your tone was soft but completely matter-of-fact as you stroked the young girl’s hair. 

Silco nodded slowly. “Soup would be…. fine.” 

Without another word, you simply turned on your heel and headed for the kitchen, murmuring words of comfort to the child in your arms. 

_______

You were the brutally soft woman who had invaded Silco’s life and turned it upside down in the best way possible…. Which is how the Kingpin found himself in his current position: buried deep inside you, biting your shoulder as the thick, swollen head of his cock kissed your cervix. 

The pain-tinged pleasure was almost blinding, but fuck, it was exactly what you wanted. It was enough to have you desperately moaning his name and your back arching. The Eye of Zaun kissed the column of your neck hungrily, trailing his lips all the way up to your ear. Silco’s warm breath caressed the shell of your ear as he nipped at the delicate skin before murmuring. “You’re sure about this, my lovely?” 

“Silco, please.” You whined, voice barely audible over the sound of him fucking you. “W-we talked about this. I want a baby…. I want you to get me pregnant.” 

Silco growled in response, reaching up to palm the swell of your soft, generously curved breasts. He had you pressed back across the smooth wood of his desk, all of his papers and work carelessly thrown to the side as he took you roughly, with an almost singular purpose. The gold-trimmed bottom hem of the dress you favored had been roughly shoved up around the curves of your hips to allow him more room between your thighs. He leaned over to kiss you hungrily.

“Such a dirty girl,” he purred, sliding one of his fingers into your mouth for you to suck on. Your tongue laved around it, eyelids fluttering shut in bliss as he pressed it in further. 

Silco hissed at the sight, trailing his other hand up to caress the soft skin of your lower abdomen. He pressed down with the flat of his palm, making you cry out at the sudden pressure before following it with another gentle massage. “Wanting me to fuck you raw like this…. Such a pretty thing, and you want to carry my child.” 

The thought of you pregnant was nearly enough to make him cum instantly. Your body would change… swell with the life he put inside you. Everyone would know it… Everyone would see his claim on you. Yes, Jinx would be getting a sibling, and Silco would be glad about that alone, but his true desires were much more selfish.

You whimpered as his clever fingers found their next target: one of your overly-sensitive nipples. Silco bit back a moan of his own, imagining your breasts swollen and heavy with milk. “Let me hear it again, lovely. Say my name.” 

A particularly delicious thrust of his hips punctuated each word, and Silco’s name fell from your kiss-swollen lips. Your orgasm burned through your body as you fell apart beneath him, whimpering and begging him to finish, to give you what you craved most. 

Silco’s beautiful green eye rolled back in bliss as his fingers forcefully dug into your hips, hard enough to leave bruises as he chased his own climax. His hips snapped into yours lewdly, and with one last strangled groan, the Eye of Zaun joined you in pure euphoria. The movement of his hips slowed, and you felt his warm seed fill you completely. 

Your head dropped back against the desk with a soft thunk, your energy completely and utterly spent. Silco caressed your temple, raising one of your hands to his lips to kiss it gently. 

“Beautiful…” he murmured, letting his gaze wash over you unashamedly and making no move to leave your warmth.  You shifted your hips slightly, drawing a short, sharp hiss from your lover as you sighed contentedly, completely relaxed beneath him.  

Silco dipped down to press more reverent kisses against your skin, his smooth, deep voice intensely comforting. “We are going to stay just like this for a few more minutes. It wouldn’t do for any of our hard work to go to waste.”

____________

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @eriseffigy @ashotofspotchka @thebeardedmoon @dont-mess-with-my-fandom @redflamesbaku @My-awakened-ghost @agatemermaid @shadow-pancake9 @zaunsin @warpedbands @kemeso25 @ironandglass @nyx2021 @amyroswell @tinybookworm16 @dendrophileunsated @cassandrablacker @aikoiya @lemmielem

(If you are on my tag list and your name is crossed out, then the info I have for you either needs updating, or Tumblr is being strange)

#lyria responds #silco #silco arcane #silco fanfiction #silco fanfic #arcane #arcane fanfic #silco x reader #silco x you #silco league of legends #silco smut #silco imagine #silco simp

[ktempestbradford]

A Story for Star Trek Day

I've told this story on Twitter before. I tell it every Star Trek Day and whenever a Deep Space 9 anniversary rolls around. It's about me and Avery Brooks (aka Best ST Captain Benjamin Sisko).

The college my mother went to specifically started recruiting top Black students in the 60s. Due to this, the Black kids all mostly knew each other as they were in that same program. Avery Brooks went to the same college and they were good friends.

(She once told me he had a huge crush on her and I was like MOM. MOTHER. WHAT. HOW COULD YOU HE COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.)

Anyway, many of the students in this program remained friends long after college. So over the years as Avery was getting TV gigs & such we would all watch cuz he was my mom's friend & I thought that was the coolest. There was one particularly fun night when my best friend's uncle, Frankie Faison, guest starred on A Man Called Hawk. TWO people we know on TV!

When I was in middle school Avery was touring his production of "Paul Robeson" and it came through our town, so I got to see him perform in person (awesooooome) and meet him for the first time since I was a baby (which I did not remember, of course).

Now, backing up a little bit: I am a Star Trek fan because of my mom. She loved the original series and I remember being a wee Tempest in front of the TV watching The Wrath of Khan and us excitedly going to see Star Trek IV together.

I watched TNG from the instant it appeared on TV because of her. I watched all of The Animated Series even though everyone looked "wrong". (Man... it took me 4 months to realize that dude in the red shirt was Scotty cuz I'd only ever seen movie Scotty.)

Then... they announced Deep Space 9.

We heard Avery Brooks would be the commander and there was MUCH rejoicing around our house. DS9 turned out to be the best Trek ever and, of course, Avery was awesome. This was around the time my mom dropped that "he had a crush on me but I wasn't interested" bombshell.

I'm still bitter.

I mean, I love my dad he's great. But SISKO COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.

I lost my mom in 1999. She was--and I'm not exaggerating--an extraordinary woman and beloved by many. I received so many beautiful messages of condolence from her friends all the way back to those college years, including Avery. So many people remembered her fondly. <3

I kept watching Star Trek and often talked to her as if she was there during episodes. She would have LOVED Discovery. Especially since she took me to RENT the year I started college. I'm sure she would have shared my opinion of Enterprise as well. But she loved her some Scott Bakula, so she would have watched, anyway.

I got the chance to interview Avery Brooks at DragonCon back in 2013 (jeez, it's been almost 10 years omg). Before the interview, I went up to him on the Walk of Fame and I said:

Hi, I'm (name K stands for) Bradford, I don't know if you remember me...

And he looked up and said: Of course I remember you.

We talked for a bit and I asked if I could come back and interview him later and he said yes (he wasn't supposed to; his handler had A LOOK). I didn't want to hold up his line, so I said I'd see him later.

Before I could go, he reached out for my hand and squeezed it before saying: I loved your mama, you know.

And we just stayed like that for a few seconds, missing her together.

...I might have been trying very hard not to burst into tears.

That DragonCon was the last time I saw Avery. Barring an extraordinary circumstance, that's probably the last time I'll see him in person. I'm glad we got to have that moment together. And we had a great conversation!

His contribution to Trek has meant so much to me. SISKO4EVA

And I'm glad that it's another tie between me, my mom, and Trek. I can't watch DS9 without hearing her voice giving color commentary. Even the episodes she didn't live to see.

I think Star Trek is part of what gave her hope for the future. She passed that on to me. ❤️🖖🏾❤️

Happy Star Trek Day to all who celebrate.

#Star Trek Day #Sisko #Deep Space 9 #DS9 #Star Trek

[vickyvicarious]

"For your mother's sake."

It hits so hard, on multiple levels. First, what this might mean for her. It's her final effort, the most impactful thing she says after religion, superstition, outright pleading on her knees and crying all fail. She knows that she can't stop him from going, but at the very least she will try her best to protect him as much as she can. She places the crucifix around his neck herself, doesn't just hand it to him.

Did she lose a child to Dracula in the past? Is she seeing echoes of her own son in Jonathan's face? Or perhaps there have been brave young men who tried to fight back against him, who deliberately went to the castle and never returned. Maybe Jonathan is the first person she's met who is actually trying to go there, and while she knows it can only end in his death, the idea of letting anyone go willingly to that evil place is more than she can bear. She's giving up a piece of her own protection. The Count has been sending letters to her husband; he was the one who suggested Jonathan stay here. He knows of her. If she shows any resistance it could mean greater danger for herself, and giving Jonathan her crucifix means losing a powerful totem of self-protection. If he actually listened to her warning, she can probably expect a terrible fate of her own; maybe even just giving him the crucifix alone would be enough to ensure that. But again, whether he reminds her of her own lost son or just because he doesn't know what he's getting himself into, she can't bear to do nothing. She places herself in the role of his mother here. "For my sake," she's saying, "let me do what little I can to save you. Please."

Jonathan is an orphan. We don't know the circumstances of his childhood, but it's possible that he never even knew his mother. (It's my headcanon.) Even if he did, she has been gone for a long time now. And yet these are the words he can't argue with in the end. He was already taking her seriously, and trying to treat her with respect. Her warnings were obviously distressing to him, but there's no way he can actually turn back now. His livelihood depends on this trip, he has no actual evidence to justify leaving, and he also wants so badly to live up to Mr. Hawkins' trust in him. He is already "thinking of his father" (or the closest he has) when he says he has to go to the castle. And yet, the care and fear and love this woman is showing for him hits so hard. I wonder if he is thinking of his actual mother when he accepts the crucifix. Whether the concept of her or an actual memory... Or maybe he too is placing her in the role of his mother here. Maybe, in keeping the crucifix (and not just with him, but around his neck where she placed it, even as he rides away) he is saying yes to that implicit request as well. "I'll let you care for me. I'll accept it gratefully." It's the first motherly care he has probably felt in many long years.

In this book, children are placed in terrible danger again and again, and most of the time they can't be saved. Parents and parental figures are equally doomed, leaving our heroes all orphaned in a sense, unable to rely on any greater source of wisdom or comfort. They have to take things into their own hands and deal with the problem alone, despite still being caught up in grief for what they've lost - a kind of coming of age in that sense. There's even a literal version of this happening with both Arthur and Jonathan (and Mina) specifically, when their father figures die and leave them with sudden new responsibilities. And of course, the inheritances from these father figures help in distinct and immensely useful ways, even as they remain absent from the story throughout. They haunt the margins at best until death steals them away completely, and their illnesses tend to serve to divide our heroes from one another when they needed to be united sooner. I personally don't count van Helsing as a father figure really, but if you do then he is the only one who manages to be around and be directly helpful (and even then, he's unable to save Lucy), even though all the fathers we hear from are loved and loving. But we do actually meet a few mothers, and they are usually unable to alter the story despite being more present. Their efforts to save their children are misdirected and only bring about their own death as well, in the end. Lucy's mother seems to mean well but everything she does directly makes everything harder; the mother at the castle later tries to avenge her child possibly against the wrong person, and in any case is unable to succeed. But here, the innkeeper's wife with her crucifix manages what no other mother does. Even though she assumes this to be another wasted effort (in fact, she can't bear to remain in the room with him afterwards; re: Dracula did such a good job with the hopelessness in her voice when she says the 'mother's sake' line), her assistance helps Jonathan to survive. His 'inheritance' from this momentary mother-figure isn't just the physical crucifix, though that is useful (and also the only inheritance a mother leaves for a child throughout the book, even when it would be expected and easy and make complete sense to do so, ahem). It's also the first and the most knowledgeable and the most effective aid given to a 'child' throughout the entire book.

#dracula daily #re: dracula #dracula daily spoilers #crucifix lady #jonathan harker #dracula meta #my meta