#and the line that leads from her down to me

[hgfictionwriter]

Bliss

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie and you are on your honeymoon. She can't keep her hands off of her new wife.

Warnings: Smut. Pool sex, facesitting, slight overstimulation, etc.. Language as well.

A/N: Okay. I'm a little out of control on this one. Buckle up because it's long. My imagination went a little crazy. Based on this request.

"Jessie, come look at the pool. It looks beautiful at night with all of the lights."

Jessie hummed as she came up behind you, gently pressing herself against your back and wrapping an arm around your waist. She tilted her head down to lay a soft kiss at the base of your neck. You chuckled lightly at how her breath tickled your skin.

"Want to take a dip?" She asked, subconsciously swaying both of you gently from side to side as you looked out the glass doors of your honeymoon suite.

You turned your head back to look at her with a quiet smile. "That sounds perfect."

You both got changed into your swimsuits and Jessie went in first. Once she was in she turned and reached up to offer you her hand. You took it and let her guide you into the private pool attached to your suite. Tall bushes and trees lined the area, ensuring privacy and freeing you from any prying eyes.

You smiled as she took a seat, the water resting just below her shoulders, and pulled you onto her lap. You readily obliged, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she held you.

"How is my wife liking her honeymoon so far?" She asked as she looked up to you. Your smile widened immediately at the acknowledgement of your new title. Marriage wasn't even something you necessarily knew you'd wanted growing up, but after meeting Jessie and falling in love with her, becoming her wife felt all too right.

"It's gorgeous," you told her as you leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss. "And how is my beautiful wife liking her honeymoon?" She grinned into the kiss.

"Even more amazing than I'd dreamed it would be," she told you. Even with the recessed lights around the pool, the area was fairly dark and you weren't sure if she could see your blush.

You'd been together for several years and it still warmed your heart when she spoke so romantically with you. Jessie wasn't known as an openly sentimental person, so for her to make such statements so unabashedly with you still made you feel special.

You deepened your kiss and thumbed her cheek tenderly. The past few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind with the wedding and all of the obligations and activities that went along with it. It felt like you two had been going full tilt for ages between the wedding, her competitions, and your work. You were grateful to be able to slow down and finally spend some time together, just the two of you. You knew she felt the same by how clingy she was leading up to this. Always with a hand on your back, her pinky hooked with yours, or her chin on your shoulder, with "I miss you" texts sprinkled throughout.

You loved that this composed - sometimes guarded - woman was so soft and loving with you.

"I can't believe you're finally my wife," Jessie whispered between kisses, awe in her voice.

"Took you long enough, Fleming," you teased, pulling a grumble out of her. Her fingers dug into your hips slightly as she gave you a pouting glare.

"I've been calling you my 'future wife' since year one," she protested lightly. You chuckled and kissed her placatingly.

"I know, my love. I'm just teasing. I never doubted your commitment or intentions."

"Good," she said with lingering disapproval. "Don't make me pull out years-old texts to friends and family where I told them I was going to marry you."

You pulled back and cocked your head curiously. "I don't know - I mean that sounds very appealing to me."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Jessie said as she rolled her eyes playfully and pulled you closer to her, wrapping her arms more fully around you and leaning down to kiss your collarbone.

"In the meantime," she went on, her voice now low, "I can think of some other ways to reassure you."

"Mm, you think?" You played along, letting your head fall back a bit and inviting her to kiss up your neck. "Tell me all about it." You felt her smirk against you.

"You know I'm really more of a doer than a talker."

Your body tensed up as you felt her tongue sneak out for a teasing lick before her lips closed on the sensitive skin of your neck and she sucked lightly. You rocked your hips in her lap without thought and she reached up to start massaging your breasts.

She took her time teasing you and small whimpers escaped your throat as the aching between your legs grew greater and greater for her.

"You really don't need these," she announced as she reached down to hook a couple of fingers into the band of your bikini bottoms and gave a tug. You reluctantly lifted off of her long enough for her to pull them down your legs and she discarded them on the pool deck.

When you settled back down onto her lap, she massaged your thighs with her strong fingers, her head tilted back as she watched you grind yourself down onto her lap in need. She smirked.

"God, I'm lucky. I have the most beautiful wife," she told you.

You gave a gentle laugh that was quickly cut off with a soft gasp when her hand nestled itself between your legs and her fingers began to explore between your folds.

"Oh my god," she said with a lazy smile as she looked up at you. "I can't believe this is all mine. You feel so amazing every time."

"God, baby, don't tease me. I need you," you told her as you rocked against her fingers, begging her to enter you.

You hadn't had sex since the night before your wedding. You weren't supposed to see each other - stupid superstitions and all - but you'd snuck out to meet, just to check in and because you missed each other. Well, it just so happened that your little rendezvous ended with her fingers deep inside of you, her lips on yours. Still, since then it had been longer than either of you liked because things had been so busy. You needed her badly.

She hummed and leaned up to kiss you.

"Whatever my wife wants, she gets."

A small groan of appreciation fell from Jessie's lips as she slowly sunk into you. She watched with eager eyes as your back arched and you let your head fall back in immediate pleasure.

"I love you so much," Jessie told you as she took your form in, cast in the soft glow of night. She bit her lip as you gripped her fingers. "You're so tight. I love it."

"Oh God, Jessie," you moaned softly as you slowly rode her fingers, aided by the buoyancy of the water, "I love the way you fill me."

Jessie's head rolled back against the edge of the pool as she bit her lip watching you. "Fuck, I love when you talk like that." You leaned into her, allowing your lips to brush against her ear.

"Like what?" You whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth when you felt her shoulders tense and her free hand gripped your hips harder. "Like when I tell you I'm aching for you. How incredible it feels when your thick, strong fingers fill me. Stretching me."

You continued to ride her slowly, arousal building at how you heard her breathing grow heavier and she started to rock back against you with greater emphasis.

"How when you curl your fingers inside of me the way you do, it makes me weak in the knees. The way you play with my clit sends waves of pleasure through me. And how just the sound of your voice, the way you're breathing right now, the way you're rocking your hips against me, gets me dripping wet for you."

"Fucking hell, babe," Jessie cursed, almost in a hypnotic daze from your words. "You're going to make me fucking cum and I'm the one fucking you right now."

"Is that so?" You teased as you sat back to look at her, running your fingers through her hair before leaning down and kissing her deeply, grinding down into her hand harder.

She tilted her head up, readily meeting your kiss and then some before pumping into you with firmer, faster strokes. She smiled as you whimpered into the kiss, tensing up at the new sensation. She bit your bottom lip, giving it a tug.

"I'm going to make love to you again, and again, and again tonight," she whispered as she kissed along your jawline, bringing up her free hand to run through your hair before cupping the back of your neck and kissing along the side of your neck.

A low moan escaped you and your dug your fingers into her scalp. She groaned in response and nipped at youf as she continued to thrust skillfully into and out of you, her thumb circling your clit.

"Jessie," you panted.

"You look so gorgeous in the moonlight," she said. You opened your eyes to look down to see her watching you steadily with love and affection.

"I love you so much, Jess," you told her between breaths.

She let out a shuddering breath and leaned you back slightly so she could fully appreciate your form. Her free arm gripped you tighter and she started bouncing you up and down on her, pulling you down onto her fingers with greater force and picking up the pace.

Your mouth fell open and you felt that familiar tightening begin in your core. She knew the signs.

"Cum for me, baby," she told you as she watched you - this beautiful woman she could now call her wife, start to come undone on account of her.

You dug your nails into the base of her neck and dragged your fingers down. She leaned into the touch, not breaking her gaze from you for a second. You convulsed around her fingers and she continued to curl her fingers inside of you, drawing out your orgasm.

In time, your breathing slowed once more and the tension in your shoulders, legs and back melted away and you floated fully into her arms. She held you against her, her fingers still inside of you as she continued to lay lingering kisses along your collarbone.

Eventually she chuckled. You nudged her head with yours in question, still too spent to speak.

"The private pool was worth the extra money," she told you, drawing a laugh out of you. She squeezed you in her arms. "I love you."

When you were ready, you both got out of the pool and went inside to rinse off in the shower. Your hands were all over each other the entire time and you were locked in a hungry kiss. You'd just hit your climax a few minutes ago, but as her hands roamed your body and as you ran yours along hers, appreciating the meticulously sculpted dips and curves of her defined muscles, that familiar heat between your legs returned.

You were toweling off and you couldn't break your eyes away from her. Her tanned skin brought out her freckles and you couldn't help but swallow at the sight of her muscles moving and flexing as she dried herself off. You stepped forward and she gave you a curious look as you took the towel from her and began drying her off for her.

Soon, you gently pushed her back against the bathroom counter and began kissing down her stomach. Her abs twitched as you trailed your tongue down them. You dropped the towel to the ground and brought your hands up to her sides, letting your nails graze down until they rested on her hips.

You knelt down before her on the towel and looked up at her. She unknowingly licked her lips and leaned back into the counter, her hands now gripping the edges.

"You are absolutely perfect," you told her as you moved your hands down her muscular thighs and nudged them open.

She exhaled heavily and you saw her knuckles growing white already.

A taut moan escaped Jessie's throat as you leaned up and ran your tongue along her folds. You smiled at how wet she was - and it wasn't from the shower.

"I adore the way you taste," you told her as you tilted your chin up into her and continued to lick up and down her.

You watched as her head fell back and she rolled her shoulders out. You moaned into her. She was gorgeous to begin with, but with her head thrown back like that, it accentuated the chiseled structure of her jaw and the angles of her neck.

You leaned up into her further, rising on your knees more and you brought your hands around to grip her gorgeously sculpted ass. You kneaded the muscles there and she groaned low in her chest.

She let go of the counter and placed both hands on the back of your head, her fingers digging into you. You moaned into her and she started to bend her knees and rock into you mouth.

"Baby, you make me feel so good," she told you as she intermittently gripped your hair. You wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked hard, flicking the sensitive bud with your tongue. She let out a high moan and her knees gave just slightly before she caught herself.

She bit her lip with a low chuckle and looked down at you.

"I wish I had my wedding ring on," she breathed, locking eyes with you. "I want to see the band catch the light, my hand on the back of your head while you're on your knees for me."

Your eyes fluttered shut and you groaned heavily into her, the vibration causing her legs to give again and her hands tightened in your hair once more.

"You're gonna make me cum," she told you, her voice raspy as she rolled her hips against your mouth.

You continued unwaveringly and you heard her breathing grow strained and heavy. You opened your eyes when she moved one hand back to the counter, bracing herself. Her eyes were screwed shut, her jaw clenched and her thighs began to flex around your head.

"Oh fuck. Y/N." Your name echoed off the tile walls as Jessie tensed up around you and she inhaled sharply, practically whimpering as her orgasm took her.

Seeing her like this, riding out her orgasm, never, ever got old. It astounded you that you were the one that she let take her over the edge.

When she relaxed, she released your hair and her body slumped back against the counter. Her mouth was agape as she worked to catch her breath and her eyes were momentarily unfocused before honing in on you.

"Jesus," she said as she forced herself to stand back up. You rose from the floor, wrapping your arms around her waist and she gave a breathless laugh. "I wasn't expecting that."

"It's our honeymoon, baby," you told her as you narrowed your eyes playfully. "You can't have all the fun." She let out a single breath as a laugh.

"I don't know. I'd say I have been having all the fun so far." She looked at you wordlessly for a moment, a hint of a smile of her face before she cupped your cheek. "You're the one. I hope you always know that."

You smiled and gave her a kiss. "Well, feel free to remind me now and then."

She didn't speak right away, again just taking you in before suddenly her hands were under you and lifting you up. You squealed and wrapped your arms and legs around her as she carried you over to the bed. She set you down and climbed on, moving past you so she was laying on her back.

"On me," she told you. You smirked and crawled up the bed, swinging your leg over her waist and settling yourself on her hips. Your wet core made contact with her skin and she arched an eyebrow smugly at you.

"Like this?" You asked teasingly.

"You fucking know it," she affirmed with a smirk of her own. She gripped your hips and pulled you down against her as she rocked her hips up. "You're ready for me already, baby. Did seeing me cum for you turn you on?"

"You fucking know it did," you returned playfully.

Her eyes were bright as she watched you. She reached down and you lifted your hips to make room for her hand. She dug her head back into the pillow as her fingers slipped through your folds.

"I could never get tired of this. Every time I feel how wet you are for me it's like the first time all over again. God I love you."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing you made me your wife," you said as you ground yourself against her teasing fingers.

You threw your head back, a moan flowing freely from your throat as she sunk her digits into you.

"Say it again," she commanded. You came back to the moment and brought your head back down to look at her. She gazed up at you with hooded eyes.

"I'm your wife," you told her as you rose up on her fingers to the tips and sunk back down.

"You're my wife," she repeated with a satisfied smile, her other hand roaming up your side to cup your breast.

Words ceased as you started riding her. While outside in the pool was somewhat measured and sensual, now the motions were fast and hard as you rode her and she met you with fervour. Your head was thrown back and your needy moans filled the room as she filled you repeatedly to the brim before drawing out and sparking your desire all over again.

"God, you fuck me so good, Jess," you told her as she sent sensation after sensation through you. She grunted in response, eyes transfixed on you, and quickened her movements.

You were nearing your high when she stilled and held your hips in place.

A shameless whimper escaped you and you let your head fall back forward to look down at her in question. She didn't answer, she merely bucked her hips using the momentum to push you off and she shuffled down slightly before guiding you up the bed.

"Jess," you managed to say as she held you above her face.

"I want to taste you," she told you.

"Oh my god," you said, your legs already trembling as you knelt over her.

"I've got you," she said as she braced your thighs with her hands. "Come on, baby. I can take it," she encouraged. "You look fucking amazing from here." Her hands held you and she gently, but firmly pushed you down towards her waiting mouth.

A quick gasp escaped you as she reached up with her tongue.

"Jess, I don't know if I'm going to last long," you warned her. She took this as an invitation and pulled you down into her more fully. She laid her tongue flat on you and gave a few slow, soft licks before delving in.

You gasped again and leaned forward to brace yourself on the headboard. You glanced down to see Jessie, eyes closed, rolling her head side to side as she explored you, sending delicious pulses through your core while her biceps popped as she held you in place.

"Oh my god, Jess," you panted as you began to roll your hips against her tongue. Her grip tightened as she groaned into you.

The sounds of her lapping up your juices and moaning into you were driving you wild. Never mind the sight of her between your legs as she devoured you. You brought one hand down and gripped her hair.

"Jessie," you said as you felt your climax quickly approaching. She embraced it fully as she dug her fingers into your legs and tilted her chin into you.

"Fuck," you cursed as you began to spasm around her. You braced your hand on the wall as your legs threatened to give way.

Jessie held you steadily and moaned in appreciation as your arousal started to drip down her chin. She slowed her actions and gave you some reprieve. For now. You went to move off of her, but she held you in place.

"Baby," you half-pleaded, half-warned. Instead of letting you go, Jessie laid one slow, languid lick from your entrance up to your clit. You released a shaky gasp and your whole body shuddered.

Soon she was slowly lapping at you again and a series of "Oh my god"s fell from your lips as she sent more and more waves of pleasure through you.

She continued her attention and despite how amazing it felt, your legs were shaking and your thighs burned. You were so tired you could barely hold yourself up even with her help.

"Jessie, I can't," you panted.

She relented this time, and she reached up with one hand to brace your back and she rolled you both, somehow keeping her mouth fixed between your legs as she laid you out on your back.

The burning in your thighs was immediately pushed from your mind as Jessie tucked her knees under her, pushed your legs back and leaned her head further into you. You covered your face at the sensations that were rolling through your body and she worshipped you incessantly.

You pushed your head back into the mattress and dug your fingers through your hair as you felt Jessie trace her fingers around your soaking entrance. A heady moan escaped you as she slipped easily inside.

Her strokes were slow and patient as she continued to suck on your clit. You writhed beneath her and soon she lifted her head up, her fingers not missing a beat, as she began to kiss her way up your body. When her lips reached your neck she began to tend to the skin there with slow kisses.

"I love you so much," she said as she gently added a third finger, stretching you further.

"Oh my God, Jessie." Your voice was high with need and you were short of breath as you wrapped your arms and legs around her and clutched her tightly to you. She tucked her free arm under your back and pulled you close as she continued to tenderly stroke in and out of you.

"Y/N," she whispered, her head lolling against yours now, her lips grazing your ear. "I'm going to spend every day making sure you know how much I love you." Her fingers curled inside of you with slow, steady thrusts. "You'll never have to question it."'

Your moans increased and you both tightened your grip on one another. You could feel that coiling sensation deep inside of you building already and you dug your nails into her back.

Her nails dug into you and she teeth sunk into your skin briefly. You felt her back arching over you as she stroked you deeper.

“I can’t wait to keep building my life with you,” she declared, her own body writhing against you as she made love to you.

"If it was up to me," she said, voice husky as she panted above you, "you'd be leaving here with my baby inside of you."

Your mouth fell agape and you tossed your head further back, a shameless moan filling the room.

"Jess." Her name came out of your mouth as a needy whine. "Holy fuck. I'm gonna cum again."

A cry fell from your lips as another orgasm rocked you. You screwed your eyes shut, but it still felt like your vision went hot white. You mindlessly clawed at Jessie's back and she maintained her rhythm, coaxing you through before slowing to a stop and resting inside of you.

Your chest heaved up and down as you struggled to catch your breath. You didn't even realize she was laying soft, faint kisses along your shoulders as she waited for you to come around.

You weren't sure how much time passed before you were able to open your eyes and look at her. There had been other times where she'd pushed you to the absolute brink and you expected her to wear the same cocky look she normally would, but instead she was watching you with pure adoration.

"You're my favourite person in this whole world," she told you with a warm smile. You managed a small laugh.

"And you're mine."

She kissed your cheek and gave you a smirk. "You better get some rest. This is only day one, after all."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso #woso x reader #jflem #woso community #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #smut fic

[hd-junglebook]

Its Always Been You

Part 4 / Word Count 5816

Masterlist

Summary: And so, the trip to Michigan begins with a little surprise guest.

In the dim glow of his bedroom, Jack's world felt like it was crumbling around him. The shadows danced across the walls, mirroring the chaos within his mind.  Jack's hands trembled as he held the phone to his ear, his breathing uneven and his heart racing.

"Luke, I don't know what to do with myself," Jack's voice trembled, a mix of anguish and vulnerability. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and his free hand clenched into a tight fist.  

"I've acted like a complete fool all week. Y/n hates me. I'm feeling… I'm feeling things I never felt before for y/n, and I think I've finally lost my mind."

Luke's harsh tone cut through the silence, his confusion evident. "Jack, what the hell are you talking about?" There was a rustling sound on the other end of the line, as if Luke was sitting up in bed, suddenly alert.

Jack's pacing resumed, his frustration palpable. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, his footsteps heavy against the carpeted floor.

The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"I told y/n I knew how she felt about me, and then I broke her heart. She left me all alone for three days. Jesus, I just saw her locking lips with some loser in the hallway. It's taking everything in me not to go out there and drag him outside."

"Jack…" Luke barely got out before he was interrupted again.

Before Luke could respond, Jack's voice rose again, defiant and emotional. "I'm not done." He halted his pacing, standing in front of his dresser where a picture of y/n and him sat.

It was from the night of his draft party, a snapshot of happier times. Jack's fingers traced the edges of the frame, his eyes fixated on y/n's smiling face. The photograph seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of what he had thrown away.

He thought back to that night, his emotions, how he begged her to leave her life behind and move to New Jersey. The memory was vivid, the excitement and hope he felt then now replaced by a crushing sense of regret.

The scent of her perfume, the warmth of her hand in his, the sparkle in her eyes—it all came flooding back, intensifying the ache in his chest.

Rustling came through the speaker of Jack's phone. "I ruined us, Luke. I've ruined the best thing I've ever had." Jack's voice cracked, a single tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.

"Dude, it's almost 12am, and you're babbling about something everyone and their mom knew already. How long did you think you could fight your feelings?" Luke's tone softened, a mix of exasperation and concern.

"I don't know, Luke." Jack stayed still for a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The door of their apartment closed, and he hung up on Luke when he heard footsteps approaching.

Jack perked up, holding his breath as he listened to them get closer. His heart raced, a glimmer of hope sparking in his chest.

Another door closed, leading Jack to swing open his door. Y/n had already closed her door, the click of her lock reverberating through the silent apartment.

Jack's hand hovered over her doorknob, his fingers trembling. He wanted to knock, to apologize, to pour his heart out, but fear and uncertainty held him back.

…

The sound of her alarm woke her from her restless sleep, the shrill beeping cutting through the stillness of the early morning. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the darkness around her.

The room was bathed in a deep, melancholic blue, the shadows clinging to the corners and casting an air of despair. The curtains, a soft, sheer fabric, billowed gently in the breeze from the slightly open window, allowing a sliver of pale moonlight to penetrate the gloom.

"Here we go again," she mumbled groggily, her voice heavy with exhaustion and resignation. The words felt thick on her tongue.

She sat up in her bed, allowing the blanket to fall in a heap on her waist. The sheets, once a comforting embrace, now felt suffocating, tangled around her legs like the thoughts that consumed her mind.

y/n looked around the room with despair, her gaze lingering on the familiar objects that held countless memories—the framed photographs on the dresser, the stack of well-worn books on the nightstand, the discarded clothing strewn across the floor.

Y/n sighed again, the sound echoing in the emptiness of the room. She pushed the blanket off of herself fully, the cool air of the apartment sending a shiver down her spine.

Her steps were light as she dressed herself, opting for comfort over style for the plane ride back to Michigan. She pulled on a soft, oversized sweater, the fabric enveloping her like a comforting hug, and a pair of well-worn leggings that had seen better days.

As she moved about the room, gathering her belongings, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, the sound amplified by the silence that hung heavy in the air. The scent of stale coffee and the lingering aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafted through the apartment.

Jack's door opened across from her room, his yawning loud against the stark silence of the world outside their little apartment. The sound made her flinch, her body tensing as she braced herself for the inevitable encounter.

She could hear his footsteps, the shuffling of his feet against the hardwood floor, and the rustling of his clothing as he moved about his room.

Y/n rolled her eyes, not ready to interact with Jack just yet. The thought of facing him, of seeing the guilt and regret in his eyes, made her stomach churn. She focused on the task at hand, pulling her suitcase up to the door, the wheels squeaking against the floor.

Her eyes landed on the corkboard that hung on the wall beside the door, the pictures of their innocent smiles and young faces causing her heart to break even more.

In one picture, they were grinning broadly, their arms wrapped around each other's waists as they posed in front of a sunset on the beach. In another, they were dressed in formal attire, attending a friend's wedding, their eyes sparkling with happiness and love.

Y/n's fingers traced the edges of the photographs, the glossy paper cool beneath her touch. A lump formed in her throat as she studied each image. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes, the emotions she had been trying so hard to suppress threatening to spill over.

She pulled the door open, rushing past the open bathroom where Jack stood in the mirror, his toothbrush dangling from his mouth and a look of surprise etched on his face.

Y/n moved with the speed of a cheetah, her feet pounding against the floor as she made a beeline for the safety of the kitchen.

Just as she thought she had escaped the awkwardness, the front door jingled, keys rattling against the metal knob like a mischievous poltergeist trying to gain entry.

Y/N stood frozen in place, her body rigid with shock as the door to the apartment swung open. The sudden intrusion had caught her completely off guard, and she felt as if she had been turned to stone, unable to move or speak.

As she watched, a tuft of blonde hair bounced into view, the golden locks reminding her of the fairy tale character Goldilocks. But this was no innocent child stumbling upon a bear's cottage; this was a full-grown woman barging into her home uninvited.

"Daphne? What the hell are you doing here?" Y/N managed to choke out, her voice rising in pitch with each word until it reached a near-shriek. The disbelief and anger dripped from her tongue like bitter honey, leaving a foul taste in her mouth.

Jack's girlfriend fully entered the apartment, dragging a garishly pink suitcase behind her. It was as if she had packed her entire life into that one piece of luggage, ready to move in and stake her claim.

The suitcase was so bright it hurt Y/N's eyes, a beacon of chaos signaling the impending doom that was about to unfold.

From the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Jack emerge from the bathroom, toothbrush still dangling from his mouth. White foam dripped down his chin, making him look like a rabid dog caught in the act.

His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, darting back and forth between the two women as if trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation he had found himself in.

Daphne's gaze flicked between Jack and Y/N, her initial smile slowly fading as realization dawned on her face. "We planned this months ago, silly," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Non-refundable ticket. We talked about this, Jack. It's only been three months; you can't get rid of me that easily."

She let out a laugh that sounded more like a witch's cackle, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief and something darker, more possessive. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving, no matter how unwelcome her presence might be.

Y/N felt her heart sink into her stomach, a wave of nausea washing over her as the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. Daphne was here, in their home, and it seemed that Jack had been keeping even more secrets than she had realized.

The air in the apartment suddenly felt thick and suffocating, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Y/N's mind raced with a million questions, a million accusations, but she couldn't seem to form the words.

All she could do was stand there, frozen in place, as the world she had built with Jack came crashing down around her like a house of cards.

Jack let out a heavy sigh, his hand rubbing the front of his scalp as if trying to erase the memory of ever agreeing to this disastrous plan. His face scrunched up like he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, the bitterness of the situation leaving a foul taste in his mouth.

He glanced sheepishly at Y/N, his eyes darting between the two women like a puppy who had been caught chewing on his owner's favorite pair of shoes.

"Can you give us a sec? Please?" he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid that speaking any louder would cause the fragile peace to shatter.

Y/N scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest as she fixed Jack with a withering stare. "No, we have to leave soon, and if I don't have my coffee, I just might jump off the plane dealing with you both," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Her eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline, the thought of being trapped on a plane with these two making her seriously consider grabbing a parachute and taking her chances with gravity.

Jack's face reddened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "We need privacy though!" he said, his voice tinged with annoyance.

He threw his hands up in the air, as if he were trying to physically push away the awkwardness that had settled over the room like a thick fog. "Could you give us some time?"

Y/N let out a humorless laugh, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the apartment. "Oh, you need privacy? That's rich, coming from the guy who couldn't even bother to tell his best friend that his girlfriend was coming to visit."

She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Jack with a look that could have melted steel. "You know what? Fine. You two lovebirds enjoy your little reunion. I'll be in my room, packing my bags and booking a one-way ticket to anywhere but here."

With that, she spun on her heel and stalked off towards her bedroom, her footsteps echoing like gunshots in the stillness of the apartment. She could feel Daphne's eyes boring into her back, could sense the smug satisfaction radiating off the other woman in waves.

But Y/N refused to let it get to her, refused to let the hurt and betrayal show on her face. She had always prided herself on being strong, on being able to handle whatever life threw her way. And she sure as hell wasn't going to let Jack or his girlfriend see her crumble.

As she reached her bedroom door, Y/N paused, her hand resting on the knob. For a moment, she was tempted to turn back, to march right up to Jack and demand an explanation.

But she knew that it would be pointless, knew that whatever he had to say would only make the pain worse.

So instead, she took a deep breath and stepped inside, slamming the door behind her with a resounding thud. And as she sank down onto her bed, her head in her hands and her heart in pieces, Y/N couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so wrong, so fast.

…

Y/N walked back out into the living room, Daphne turned to her with an expression of exaggerated surprise. Her eyes were wide, and a cute smile was plastered on her face, the kind of smile that made you want to pinch her cheeks but also question the sincerity behind it.

"This is your best friend, right? She's a lot shorter than I remember," Daphne said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. It was clear that she was trying to get under Y/N's skin, to establish her dominance in the situation.

Y/N couldn't help but scoff, her eyes rolling so far back in her head that she nearly caught a glimpse of her own brain. "And you're the EX-girlfriend, right?" she retorted, putting extra emphasis on the "ex" part. Two could play at this game, and Y/N wasn't about to let Daphne win.

Jack let out a groan, his head falling back in frustration. "God, just my luck," he grumbled, his eyes rolling so hard they nearly got stuck in the back of his head.

He knew that he was in for a long and uncomfortable conversation with Daphne, and the thought of it made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Y/N took a deep breath grabbing her coffee, the warm liquid providing a momentary comfort before made her way back out to the kitchen. Y/N grasped the cold metal handle, the chill sending a shiver down her spine.

"Let's go before I change my mind," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. She didn't want to give Jack or Daphne the satisfaction of seeing how much this situation was affecting her, didn't want to let them see the cracks in her carefully constructed façade.

…

The journey to the airport had been a tense affair, with Y/N pointedly ignoring Jack's attempts at conversation and Daphne chattering away obliviously in the background.

Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her, his gaze heavy with unspoken apologies and explanations, but she refused to meet his eye, focusing instead on the passing scenery outside the car window.

they made their way through the bustling terminal, Jack tried once more to pull Y/N aside, his hand gently grasping her elbow. "Y/N, please, can we just talk about this?" he pleaded, his voice low and urgent.

Y/N yanked her arm away, her eyes flashing with barely contained anger. "There's nothing to talk about, Jack," she hissed, her voice sharp as a knife. "You made your choice, and now we all have to live with the consequences."

Jack's face fell, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's not like that, Y/N. If you would just let me explain..."

But Y/N cut him off with a bitter laugh, her head shaking in disbelief. "Explain what, Jack? How you don’t like me? How you play this stupid hot and cold game with me? No, I think I've heard enough explanations to last a lifetime."

She turned to walk away, but Jack's hand shot out once more, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "Please, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that."

For a moment, Y/N wavered, her resolve crumbling in the face of Jack's obvious distress. But then she caught sight of Daphne waiting impatiently by the gate, her foot tapping, and her arms crossed, and the anger came rushing back in full force.

"I don't have to believe anything, Jack," she said, her voice cold and distant. "You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it. I just want to forget about all of this and move on with my life. So please, just leave me alone."

With that, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and strode towards the gate, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces.

The seating arrangement on the plane felt like a cruel joke, a twisted game of fate that had placed Y/N in the middle of the very chaos she had been trying to escape.

She found herself sandwiched between Jack and Daphne, her body pressed against the cool glass of the window as if she could somehow merge with the clouds and drift away from the awkwardness that permeated the air.

Jack sat rigidly in the middle seat, his body a tense barrier between Y/N and Daphne. Y/N could feel the heat of his skin, could smell the familiar scent of his cologne, and it made her heart ache with a longing she couldn't quite suppress.

On Jack's other side, Daphne slept peacefully, her head lolling against his shoulder and her soft snores filling the space between them. She seemed blissfully unaware of the silent war raging within Y/N's mind, the turmoil that threatened to consume her from the inside out.

Y/N's foot tapped incessantly against the floor, a nervous habit that betrayed the inner chaos she was desperately trying to conceal. Each tap was like a metronome, counting down the seconds until she could escape the confines of the plane and the suffocating proximity to Jack.

She could feel his eyes on her once more, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into the side of her head. But she refused to look at him. Instead, she focused on the clouds outside the window, on the endless expanse of blue sky that stretched out before her.

Y/N was lost in thought, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and memories, when Jack's hand suddenly shot out, startling her back to reality. Before she could react, he had shoved a headphone into her ear, ignoring the sputtered questions and the look of indignation that flashed across her face.

His fingers brushed against her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. It was a reminder of the connection they once shared, the easy intimacy that had defined their friendship for so many years. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she tried to process the unexpected gesture.

As the familiar opening credits of her favorite episode of Game of Thrones filled her ear, Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. She glanced at Jack, searching his face for an explanation, but he steadfastly refused to meet her gaze.

His eyes remained fixed on the screen in front of him, as if the answers to all of life's questions could be found in the flickering images.

Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Jack, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, the curve of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks.

Each glance was a silent question, a plea for him to acknowledge the unspoken words that hung between them. But Jack remained stoic, his attention unwavering, as if he had erected an impenetrable wall around himself.

Even as she tried to immerse herself in the show, Y/N couldn't shake the awareness of Jack's presence beside her. The warmth of his body seemed to seep into her skin, igniting a longing that she had tried so hard to suppress.

She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, could hear the soft whisper of his breath, and it made her heart ache with a bittersweet mixture of love and loss.

Beside her, Jack remained a silent presence, his body so close and yet so far away. Y/N couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

…

Y/N stepped out of the airport, the crisp Michigan air filling her lungs and invigorating her senses. She took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scent of pine and freshly cut grass that always seemed to linger in the air.

The sun peeked through the scattered clouds, casting a warm glow on her surroundings and making the world seem a little brighter, a little more hopeful.

She scanned the crowd of people waiting outside the terminal, her eyes searching for a familiar face. And then, like a beacon in the chaos, she spotted him.

There, leaning against a sleek black car, was Luke. A grin spread across his face as he caught sight of her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that had always made her heart skip a beat. "Y/N!" he called out, pushing himself off the car and striding towards her with open arms.

Without hesitation, Y/N dropped her bags and ran to meet him halfway. She threw her arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground in a spirited hug. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, and all that mattered was the comfort and familiarity of Luke's embrace.

"I missed you so much," Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. She breathed in the scent of him, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely Luke, and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her.

Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against her own. "I missed you too, shorty. It's good to have you back."

He set her back down on the ground, but kept his arms around her, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. Y/N couldn't help but smile up at him, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Behind them, the sound of footsteps on the pavement broke the spell. Y/N turned to see Jack and Daphne approaching, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and something else, something harder to define. Jack's eyes met hers for a brief moment, a flash of emotion passing between them before he looked away, his jaw clenching.

Luke's arms tightened around Y/N, a silent show of support and protection. "Hey Jack, Daphne," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Glad you could make it."

Daphne smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "Thanks for picking us up, Luke. It's been a long flight."

Y/N could feel the tension crackling in the air, the unspoken words and unresolved issues hanging between them like a thick fog. But for now, she pushed them aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Luke's arms around her and the promise of a few days away from the chaos of her life in New Jersey.

Jack moved forward, his arms open wide and a grin plastered on his face, Y/N felt a flicker of hesitation. There was something about his expression that seemed forced, as if he was trying too hard to appear casual and unaffected by the tension that hung thick in the air.

But before Jack could reach them, Luke's hand shot out, smacking the side of his head with a resounding thwack. The sound echoed through the parking lot, drawing the attention of a few curious onlookers. Jack stumbled back, a bewildered look on his face as he rubbed the spot where Luke's hand had made contact.

"Ow, what was that for?" Jack asked, his voice a mix of surprise and mock indignation. His brows furrowed as he looked at Luke, trying to decipher the reason behind the sudden attack. Y/N could see the gears turning in his head, the confusion and hurt flickering behind his eyes.

Luke lowered his voice, his tone stern yet laced with underlying concern. He leaned in closer to Jack, his eyes locked on his brother's, as if he was trying to convey a message that went beyond words.

"For being an idiot and for bringing her here. Did you forget about what you said on the phone?"

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with the implications of Luke's words. What had Jack said on the phone? What secrets had he been keeping from her, even as he tried to bridge the gap between them?

Jack's face flushed with guilt, the color rising in his cheeks like a crimson tide. His eyes darted to Y/N, then back to Luke, a silent plea for understanding.

For a moment, no one spoke. Y/N could feel Daphne's eyes on her, could sense the other woman's curiosity and suspicion. But she refused to meet her gaze.

Finally, Luke broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Come on," Luke said, releasing Y/N and grabbing her bags. "Mom's waiting at home with lunch. She's been cooking up a storm all morning."

Y/N grinned, the thought of Luke's mother's cooking making her mouth water. "Lead the way," she said, falling into step beside him as they made their way to the car.

As they walked, Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her back, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into her. But she refused to look back, refused to acknowledge the part of her that still longed for his touch, his presence, his love.

Instead, she focused on the warmth of Luke's hand in hers, on the promise of a few days of respite and healing. And as they drove away from the airport, the skyline of Detroit rising up in the distance, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, this trip would be the start of something new, a chance to leave behind the pain and heartache of the past and find a way forward, one step at a time. And with Luke by her side, and the love of her family to guide her, Y/N knew that anything was possible.

…

Lukes’s car pulled up to the familiar two-story house, Y/N felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. The red brick facade, the white wooden porch, the sprawling oak tree in the front yard - every detail was exactly as she remembered.

She stepped out of the car, the warm breeze caressing her face and tousling her hair. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, a sweet perfume that brought back memories of lazy afternoons spent lounging in the sun and late-night conversations under the stars.

Y/N took a deep breath, letting the peace and tranquility of the moment settle over her like a comforting blanket. For the first time in days, she felt the knots of tension in her shoulders begin to loosen, the weight of her worries and fears slowly melting away.

Beside her, Jack and Daphne were unloading their bags from the trunk, their voices a low murmur against the backdrop of chirping birds and rustling leaves. Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Jack's face, taking in the lines of stress and fatigue that creased his brow.

In that moment, she made a decision. She was tired of being angry, tired of holding onto the hurt and betrayal that had consumed her for so long. Life was too short to waste on grudges and resentment, too precious to let slip away in a haze of bitterness and regret.

With a determined set to her jaw, Y/N strode over to Jack, her steps purposeful and sure. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in surprise and a flicker of hope.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I know things have been tough lately, but I don't want to keep dwelling on the past. You're my best friend, Jack, and that's never going to change."

Jack's face softened, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and gratitude. "Y/N, I..." he started, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry too. For everything. I never meant to hurt you, and I know I have a lot to make up for. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, the sincerity in Jack's words tugging at her heartstrings. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "let's just focus on enjoying this trip and being there for each other, okay?"

Jack nodded, his own smile breaking through the clouds of tension that had hung over them for so long. "Okay," he said, his voice filled with a tentative hope. "That sounds perfect."

Together, they made their way up the porch steps, their hands still intertwined. Y/N could feel the warmth of Jack's skin against her own.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," Ellen said, her voice warm and rich like honey. "We've missed you so much."

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I've missed you too," she said, her voice muffled against the older woman's shoulder. "It's so good to be home."

…

Luke led Daphne and Y/N up the stairs, their footsteps echoing on the hardwood, Jack seized the opportunity to pull his mother aside. His heart raced, palms sweaty as he glanced nervously between her and the staircase, his body practically vibrating with anxiety.

Ellen's brows furrowed, her maternal instincts kicking into high gear as she sensed her son's distress. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch a silent invitation to share his troubles.

"Jack, honey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jack swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. But there was none to be found, and he knew that he owed his mother the truth.

With a heavy sigh, he guided her to the couch, his movements stiff and awkward. They sat down, the worn cushions sinking beneath their weight, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Jack broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mom, I... I messed up. Y/N and I, we had a fight. A big one. And I don't know how to fix it."

Ellen's eyes widened, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. But she remained silent, allowing her son to continue.

"I didn't tell her about Daphne, and she found out in the worst way possible. And now... now she can barely look at me. I don't know what to do, Mom. I can't lose her."

Jack's voice cracked, the tears he had been holding back for so long finally spilling over. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

Ellen's heart ached for her son, for the pain and regret that radiated off him in waves. She reached out and pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around him like a protective cocoon.

"Oh, Jack," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of sympathy and gentle chastisement. "I know it's hard, but you have to be honest with the people you love. Secrets have a way of coming out, and they always hurt more in the end."

Jack nodded, his face still buried in his mother's shoulder. "I know," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt.

"I just... I didn't want to hurt her. But I ended up doing exactly that." Ellen pulled back, her hands coming up to cup Jack's face. She looked him in the eye, her gaze filled with a wisdom born of years of love and experience.

"Do you remember the time that boy was bothering Y/N in school?" she asked, her voice soft and reminiscent. "You came home with a black eye and a split lip, but you were so proud of yourself for defending her."

Jack's lips twitched, a hint of a smile breaking through the tears. "Yeah, I remember. She was so upset, but I just wanted to make her feel safe."

Ellen nodded, her own smile mirroring her son's. "You brought her back here, to this very house. And you let her lay her head on your lap, and you caressed her hair until she fell asleep. Do you remember what I told you then?"

Jack's brow furrowed, his mind stretching back to that distant memory. "You said... you said that love is the most pure thing you can feel."

Ellen nodded, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And I see it in you, Jack. When you look at her. You love her, don't you?"

Jack took a deep breath, his shoulders straightening his heart skipping a beat at his mother's words. He had always known, deep down, that his feelings for Y/N went beyond friendship. But to hear it spoken aloud, to have his deepest secret laid bare... it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I... I don't know what to say, Mom," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and longing. "Y/N and I, we're just friends. And besides, Daphne...” He trailed off, his eyes flickering towards the staircase where his ex-girlfriend had disappeared just moments before.

Ellen sighed "Jack, honey, the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be. Sooner or later, you're going to decide whether you want to be with her in that way or let her go and find love in someone else.”

Jack stood up, his heart lighter than it had been in days. He hugged his mother one last time, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. "You're right, Mom. I need to be honest with myself, and with Y/N. But... but I can't do it now. Not with Daphne here. It wouldn't be fair to anyone."

"Ellen patted his cheek, her touch a silent benediction. "I understand, sweetheart. But don't wait too long, okay?

…

Tag List <3

@favsrachz @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @ivy-34 @rebelatbay @bxtchopolis

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[luveline]

grumpy hotch x pregnant reader where he is just having an off day and the team calls reader in to deal with him and as soon she arrives in his office he just holds her and her belly as she scratches his scalp omg 🥹😭🫶🏻

You’re lounging in your husband's favourite chair with a book and an ice cold soda in your hand when your phone rings. You almost knock your tooth out pulling it up to your face without looking, wanting it to be Aaron, knowing it probably won’t be. Maternity leave can be excruciatingly boring. 

“Hello?” you ask. Your book slides down your bump. You pull it back up. 

“Hi, mom.”  

You grin to yourself. “Hi, Emily. Please tell me you’re calling because you miss me and you know I have cabin fever.” 

“I’m calling because someone misses you.” Her ire tone is unmissable and ever endearing. “I do miss you, I can’t wait for you to have your stinking baby and come back to work.” 

“That would be fun, right? We’ll get Hotch on paternity leave.” 

“It’s him I’m calling about.” 

“Is he okay?” you ask. You know if he were injured she would’ve mentioned that first. You’re not so scared of his being grumpy. 

“Moody as ever. I can’t believe I’m asking you to, but would you consider coming in for lunch? I’ll send a car, no walking, but he could really use it. He’s been biting off heads all morning.” Emily laughs down the line. “You’re the only one who can cheer him up.” 

It’s not true, but you are usually the quickest. You bid Emily goodbye with a promise to be there soon and get dressed, with no choice but to wear some maternity pants and a peplum blouse. Any excuse to see your haggard husband is one you’ll take. 

You look at your bump and you love the baby in there, but it feels weird sometimes to see yourself differently. If Aaron weren’t as nice about it as he is, you would’ve broken down by now; he’s sussed many breakdowns before they could begin, kissed fingertips and collars promising you’re just as pretty as always. And it’s reassuring, but it isn’t pretty that worries you. You’re a genuine walking beach ball right now. 

The car Emily promises is none other than Anderson himself. “He’s bullying you?” you ask him. 

He doesn’t say yes or no, but his smile is enough of a clue. You can’t get to the BAU quick enough (though you’re slower these days), pushing open the glass door with a tired sign. 

Spencer comes across you first by coincidence. “Hey!” he says, ushering you in for a hug, his cup of coffee hot behind your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.” 

“He’s in a mood,” you say. Not without fondness. 

Spencer grimaces. “Sort of.” 

Emily attacks you from the side. “Thank god you’re here! I think he just told Morgan to go fuck himself,” she says under her breath. 

She’s just saying it to make you laugh, and it works. It’s vaguely out of character, but if you know Emily, you know she has a crass, often dirty-minded side, and it’s been a while since you’ve heard her swear. You’re still giggling when the door you’d been making your way to opens. 

Aaron emerges with an expression half bemusement and half confusion. “Honey?” 

“My love,” you say, too quiet for him to properly hear, but he can read lips just fine. 

He rushes in a very gentlemanly display down the steps to help you up them, but you’d only been going up them to see him, and you stop at the foot of them with your hand raised to his elbow. “Hey, handsome.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Nothing. Just missed you, wanted to have dinner, and I figured you couldn’t say no. You know.” You touch your tummy. “Considering.” 

He peers suspiciously past your head. “Yeah?” 

You look where he’s looking, find Emily and Spencer not so subtly turned away. You laugh again, pleased when the sound makes him smile. “Come on. Take me to your office.” 

He puts a hand behind your shoulders and leads you upstairs to his office. There are papers strewn haphazard across the front of the desk, his briefcase open and muddled, his pen lost within the mess. You’re smug knowing he’d been knee deep in paperwork but abandoned it all when he heard you laughing, like he just couldn’t miss it. 

“Let me sit you down,” he says. 

“Woah, slow your roll. Why are you stressed?” 

He blinks at you. “There’s a lot to do?” 

“Sure, but why are you stressed about me? I can sit down by myself.” 

He must look at you for five whole seconds without saying a word, and the door’s not closed, there’s no answer to your question, and then he takes you into his arms for a hug. “I know you can,” he says. 

It’s admittedly hard to hug him with the bump between you. You worry you’re hurting him as your cheeks press together, crushing his shoulders under your hands. 

He usually asks first, but he knows by now that you’re two halves of the same heart, two sides of the same coin, his hand slipping between you both to nudge aside your shirt and feel your stomach. 

You close your eyes. 

“Rough day?” you ask. 

“A lot to do…” His face moves down into your neck. 

You know what he wants, moving your hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers into his hair. “I can fix it,” you say sympathetically, beginning a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp. 

“How’s that?” 

“If I go into labour right now, you get a reprieve.” 

“Honey, in the most loving sense possible, you going into labour now would not be ideal.” 

“It’s gonna happen one day, babe. And you’re gonna be just as busy then. You need to take less on or–”

“No, I know.” 

His hand slides still under your shirt to your hip, encouraging you away from him, his eyes flitting up and down your figure, checking you over. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, fingertips interested in the starchy fabric of a new suit. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, dipping down to give you a kiss. His eyes are dark, so close. “That helped. What can I get you for dinner?” 

You give a fond, pitying smile. You’re not gonna get him out of this office today, that’s for sure. “Half your sandwich, probably.” 

He kisses you again. You take it for a thank you. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[chiprewington]

Character Analysis on Chip Revvington, the Chainsaw Consultant.

Genuine Long Post Warning, as well as a LOT of images. This is going to cover literally everything we know about Chip and my take on what's provided In Canon (being his Cogs Ink profile, his Interview, the 1.3 News Article, and In-Game). This is my first try at an In-depth Character Analysis. Screenshots used are from the official Wiki.gg, In-Game, and from the Corporate Clash News Archive.

Prior to being brought on to lead the Deforester Force, it's shown he's clearly a confident Suit, and has a genuine passion for his line of work as a consultant. With his personal statement alone this can be seen on full display with how he writes about himself, including noting how he's not swayed by bribery in any manner. (also the fact he outright pokes fun at one of the bribes will never not be funny to me)

Not to mention his lack of discipline records throughout his 19 months having already worked for C.O.G.S. with his usual job as an external consultant, this plus the fact he has "positive remarks" from his previous places of work shows he's probably in very high demand and really does excel at his job.

This is also shown in his interview, where he also equally shows a lot of passion for his job and genuine interest with answering questions relating to it. Before we get into that though, I feel like it's important to also point out a couple other things that I think about a lot with his profile.

This, being referred to as the "Temperamental Terminator" in the 1.3 trailer, and considering the average age of a Consultant is ~40+ years (and I personally hc him as 48), I think it's safe to say Chip just always was a quick-tempered individual throughout his life. It's one of his less favorable traits that I personally find charming.

And these read to me like Chip's always been considered "scary" among other suits. His behavior isn't the issue (yet) though, he's just a massive guy who happens to have a chainsaw for a snout.

Which. Makes this very interesting. Jennifer, stated something similar above, but I feel as if her intentions are more... unaware than the actual company's. Jennifer sees a guy with a big Chainsaw and thinks "Oh! He can cut down trees with that!" Jennifer ily. The company on the other hand probably has had this idea of what Chip could be a candidate for. They hired him to lead the Deforester Force. His job consists of him sitting in an office. Nothing relating to physical labor in cutting down trees, he just oversees the process. "Chainsaw apparatus will be helpful [...]" suddenly takes on a much darker meaning, in my mind.

Which is how we get here. Chip being modified with a clearly experimental hardware which we all know as the Personality Override. The fact that it was only "partially successful" is a very fun thing to consider.

Note the fact that from a canon standpoint the Override was implemented "2 weeks ago". This will be important later.

(The toon who got the above screenshots is not mine!)

Another fun side-note is the fact that the Override is experimental. It's experimental hardware. Chip is the only one with it. They are using him like a guinea pig. And not to mention "Dealing with Toons far more efficiently" paired with the above company-sourced "Chainsaw Apparatus will be useful [...]", you can't make this stuff up. They turned this guy into a living weapon likely without him knowing the full scope of what would happen if he did get this position in the first place.

Okay. Now we can talk about his Interview. Which even through glancing at it you can see just how passionate he is regarding his work. He is driven and confident that his plans for the Deforester Force will work. He wants to believe that he'll set an example for the rest of the departments to execute a similar plan.

And then this question comes up. And then I have to remind you it's probably been only a couple days since he's modified. And he already has rumors circulating about him.

And the moment the subject is changed, he perks right back up into being passionate about his work.

I also feel like it's worth mentioning the fact he's been actively requesting and wanting Spruce (who recommended him to begin with!!!) to join him in the Deforester Force and keeps being turned down on it. The way this and something else I'm about to touch on are written feels like he's barely been able to see him. These two have a brotherly bond and they're being separated. He misses his brother, man.

That's not even getting into this. Even as I'm writing this I just realized the implications of something at the end of this and I'm going to have to pace around my house thinking about it. But also you can see that even though just the slightest amount of time has canonically passed since the interview, you can already see the toll the Override's been taking on Chip's behavior. While he was once passionate, he's now actively complaining about his job. It's not even about the job itself, it's about what's happened to him.

Not to mention, I feel it also displays his temper in full swing once again- even if he's justified in this sense.

I also need to pay special mind to this ending bit right here because the implication of this with everything else surrounding it fucking broke me. uugghhhhh.

Now this is something I feel is so, so, so important to his character. He actively does not like toons. He clearly shows a certain disgust for them and views them like Animals. Pests. He doesn't hesitate to proudly state his opinion on them. And then you see him in-game.

He hasn't changed his mind about toons at all. Ignoring the fact that "you critters again" insinuates this isn't even his first contact with toons (will get to this later), he's... Restrained. I don't know, this reads to me like he's actively restraining himself from blowing up. "You don't want to see what happens when I get angry." is a warning to just comply and leave.

And then because he doesn't remember he fired the rest of the Deforester Force (another thing I want to touch on), he actively gets upset and angry at the remaining flunky because of course someone as high-rank as himself wouldn't want a Flunky on such an important team. Once again, additionally showing his active temper. His active temper he just tried to restrain and bottle up.

And that's what breaks the camel's back. The Override most likely activates from excessive anger/distress, something that Chip Actively Struggles With. He has to bottle himself up because if he tries to be his usual hot-tempered self, which is who he naturally is, he's just going to lose himself. Lose himself to cog knows how long as being a lifeless machine that perfectly and efficiently complies with the commands its given.

He begs for help when he's able to partially regain control (emphasis on partially, considering the most he can do is speak and prevent Deadwood from happening), but like. Again, to me this reads as the fact he is currently Incredibly Fucking Terrified because he's completely aware the whole time the Override is active. He can see himself acting against his will. It's mortifying. He's willing to beg anyone for help because the Override is genuinely traumatizing for him.

Which makes this all the more harrowing. He can't keep the Override at bay forever (likely the only reason why he partially regained control is from the sheer amount of pain he put himself in by ripping out one of his bulbs. You can see him brace himself and wince when that happens). Once again, "save yourselves" in this context feels more like he's scared. He's terrified. Because the Override sucks. And the implication of "ALL RAM CLEARED" doesn't leave much room to assume anything other than the Override likely clears out Chip's memories in order to make more processing room for this janky hardware to run at a constant overclocked state. I wonder how much of Chip's memories have been removed because of that thing, honestly.

By the way did you know that a normal chainsaw runs an average of 12,000 RPM. Do you think about how the little RPM icon is his saw smoking as if it's overheating. What the hell is the Override doing to him internally.

Another added touch I think about a lot is how his battle as a whole is, for the most part, very predictable. You control what cheats he does. Even in technical battle terms, everything is out of Chip's control. As long as every gag hits, you're really just manipulating an enemy's AI to to make the most optimal choices to your benefit. The Override perceives "X", and responds with "Y". You're not fighting an actual individual, just a program.

Clearly, whatever it's doing to him, it's painful (not mentioning the agonizing scream he lets out during this). And thank Cog he was able to regain control at the last second because it's way too obvious that the Override's "final fallback procedure" likely involved some kind of lethal force when it lunges at the toons. (The Chainsaw Apparatus will be helpful.)

There's no sorrow in Chip's words, that's what I think. Everything here is bitter. It's numb, to me.

He's clearly been through this song and dance multiple times by now. He's pissed at the toons, at the company, and at himself. But he can't properly let it out. You know what will happen if he does. The most he can do is throw a chair and scream into the air. (which that line gets its own custom voice clip, fun fact!)

It's clear he's been isolated ever since he's been upgraded, and it seems like he's bitterly accepted it. The only thing he has left to lose is Spruce, which is why he tells the toons not to tell him. If he loses Spruce...

I don't think he'd have much left. It'd make sense why he's grown so restrained and numb and stilted in his speech. He's quickly grown to learn that he can't let himself express anymore, all because of the override.

The fact that everyone else around him views him poorly doesn't help. His employees fear him. Most of them probably don't realize something is wrong, spread rumors about him, or outright attack him through hatemail. Written in Cipher.

"Chip has some anger issues. I would be careful around him. Don't worry about the Cogs though, I'm sure they'll be fine. Might get demoted back to their initial tier, but that's what happens when you work with Chip. Good thing that Toons can't get fired-- or wait, they can, can't they? Do Toons LIKE getting fired? I will never understand those animals. And you seen Spruce around lately? I haven't. I wonder how his deforesting expedition is going. There is a secret message up ahead in Chip's room. Can you find it? If you are stuck, have you considered looking around your surroundings?"

"I can't stand Chip anymore. I know I'm a Yesman, but I have to say NO. He used to be cool up until his sensors flared off. After what he did to my fellow coworker, I don't know if I can continue working under him. Sure, he's one of the most organized managers I've ever worked with, not to mention the flowing passion he has for the Deforester Force. His personality issues can single-handedly cause all of our projects to collapse. One of my former coworkers had raised concerns about Toons taking over our buildings and ultimately undoing all work that was done on our end. That poor Pencil Pusher overstepped his boundaries with Chip when he admitted his failure to secure "our" project from the Toons. Up until this point, I have never seen a Cog fire another Cog. With a cannon."

"It grinded my gears when I saw that happen. Him and I worked nonstop for days straight, while this pile of bolts just sat there doing his paperwork. I wouldn't be surprised if he was just doing crossword puzzles or writing letters to his little buddy. If you are reading this Mr. Revvington, you are the reason for our decline. We are running out of Deforester Force members because of you. As someone who has gone through close-call battles with the Toons, I hope you experience what it's like to have boulders and anvils fall from above you. You can try to fire me with that shoddy cannon of yours, but you would have to track me down first. I've already left the area and was recruited to a new organization far more stable than you will ever be."

------

...I genuinely love Mr. Revvington. He's a Suit who's been dealt the worst hand he could possibly ever get in life. He was just like anyone else, and then everything happened ever since joining C.O.G.S.. He's isolated, he's temperamental, he's pissy, he'd genuinely be someone hard to get along with because of the fact he's struggling with all sorts of issues and would be incredibly difficult and annoying to even start talking to and forming a bond with unless you're both stubborn and have patience. He's awful, and I love him for it.

I genuinely believe he's one of the most complex, beautifully written, and depressing characters in Corporate Clash. Maybe I dive way too deep into things about him, maybe he's not that deep at all. But I like to think about him. He makes me emotional, but he also makes me happy. Thank you for making him exist.

#toontown #toontown corporate clash #corporate clash #chip revvington #corporateclash #ttcc #toontowncorporateclash #chainsaw consultant #character analysis #long post #image heavy #headcanons

[lunajay33]

Change Part.4

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.3

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since Daryl had gifted me these Ballerina slippers, I couldn’t take them off at home, I had practiced the swan dance with them it made me feel really special like he actually cared about me and my interests, then there was a knock at my door it was really late at night so I didn’t know who it was, I left my room walking out to the front door opening up the door and Daryl was there hunched over bloody and groaning

I was the only one home so I didn’t have to worry about Jackson or my parents coming out and making a scene, I wrapped my arm around his waist and steadied him with my other hand against his chest, leading him inside into the bathroom so he could sit on the floor, I rummaged through my cabinet looking for a first aid kit completely panicking

I grabbed it as I saw it tucked back in the corner, grabbing a cool wet cloth and sitting infront of him

“Daryl, what happened?” I asked as my voice shock, he was busted and blue all over and he couldn’t even look me in the eyes, I gently patted the cool cloth over his forehead swooping his hair back

I didn’t push him obviously he just wanted to sit in silence, whatever happened it was brutal and if I were him I wouldn’t wanna be in a chatty mood either, I continued to wash away the blood on his face and arms, sanitizing any cut I came across placing bandaids over the deeper ones wishing I could do something about his bruising

“Is there anywhere else I can help?” I asked just above a whisper as to not spook him wanting to keep him relaxed

He turned his back to me and slowly reached back and lifted his shirt up to his to his shoulders revealing some old deep welted scars and some fresh bleeding ones, so deep it hurt to think how he got them, I rinsed out my cloth and soaked it again since it was already filled with blood, cleaning and sanitizing having to cover them in bandages due to the size of them, my heart bleed for him, who would hurt Daryl he was the sweetest person in the world he deserved all the happiness it offered

“One sec” I threw the cloth in the sink and left to my room finding a oversized black shirt I had for sleeping and some bigger sweatpants, and a pair of boxers I had got once thinking they were pj shorts, bringing them back to the washroom

“Here you can change into these when you’re ready I’ll just be right outside the door if you need help” I said hearing him grunt as I closed the door

I heard shuffling around until the door opened and we made eye contact, I didn’t move and neither did he until……….his arms were wrapped around my and his face buried in my shoulder, I softly wrapped my arms around his waist

“I’m here for you Daryl, always”

He pulled back looking down at me with such dread in his eyes

“Can…..can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course, I told you before you’re welcome to stay with me whenever you need, come on” I lead him to the kitchen getting him a glass of water and making a quick sandwich for him just incase he hadn’t had supper, I say with him in silence as he finished up

“Thanks”

“No problem” I placed the dishes in the washer holding my hand out to him he quickly took it and we went back to my room

“You can get in bed I gotta get in pjs too” I said smiling as he plopped down on the bed

As I was picking out some clothes he spoke up

“Yer wearing em” I looked back seeing he was looking at my feet, the slippers

“Oh ya, I was…….. “practicing” when you came, I love them” I smiled as I took them off and laid them on my cabinet

I quickly changed and laid in bed next to him, still leaving some space since we’ve never done this before

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Nah Angel, ya did more than enough” he smiled weakly

“Do you wanna talk about it yet?”

“I ain’t ever told anyone…….its my old man, mean prick” he said breaking eye contact

“You’re staying here from now on, or atleast when you feel you need a break” I said placing my hand in his under the blankets between us

“Wish I could stay with ya just me and you”

“Maybe one day, we could start over together and actually be happy” I said thinking about what that life would look like what we could be

“We can……….we will”

•12 Years Later🩷

“Daryl Come on you’re going to be late for work!” I yelled out as I pored some coffee into two thermos’

Daryl came rushing out of the washroom buttoning up his plaid shirt huffing and puffing

“Sorry just real tired from work” he said as he leaned in kissing me gently still as gentle as he was when we shared our first kiss so many years ago

“Well since tomorrow is Saturday and we’re both off how about we have a special day together, I’m all your Mr Dixon” I winked handing him over his coffee

“Can’t wait Mrs Dixon” he smirked

As I was at work grading papers I kept thinking about all the moments that lead to my life now, Daryl and I assigned as partners, becoming friends, then that night he came over injured from his demon of a father, after that things kind of snowballed we continued to hang out, he stayed over more nights growing our relationship stronger, eventually he asked me to and I quote “be his girl” obviously excepting, after graduation with both our save money we were able to get a little apartment in Atlanta while I studied to become a teacher and he worked at an auto body shop, once my schooling I was done we found a little cabin like house in the woods around the outskirts of our home town, sure it was conflicting but now that my family had moved away and it was only Merle around sometimes it felt more comfortable to be where we met and set our roots, the day we moved in and it was just the two of us he proposed with a little silver ring he made himself

•Flashback

“Hey Angel can ya get me that box on the counter?” Daryl asked pointing to a little green box laid amongst the clutter from the days move

“Sure!” As I picked it up and turned to hand it to him he was down on one knee rubbing his hands together his way of showing his nerves

“Baby?”

“Angel, the day ya stepped into my life I knew it was gonna change, my lil ballerina, never thought I’d be so lucky ta get a woman as sweet as ya but I wanna spend the rest of this life with you, will ya marry me Angel?”

•

We got married down at town hall, I wore a knee length canvas colors woven dress as he wore his nicest plaid that matched my dress and that night…….well it was a night to remember forever, I got a job at the school I grew up in and he got another job fixing motorcycles at a shop and that leads to now, I was incredibly happy with our lives I only wished I got to become a ballerina, Daryl use to watch me dance in my room sometimes helping me stretch and help with certain moves and still bought me anything ballerina or swan lake related, I even had a little collection in the spare room of our house but maybe………..maybe this little baby girl would like dance aswell I thought as I rubbed my little bump

Daryl and I didn’t really talk about kids much but here I am, 3 months pregnant and Daryl was more excited than I thought he’d be, even more gentle with me, treating me like glass it was adorable though, over the years I noticed he got more harsh with people I know deep down it’s because of his past but he was never like that with me and we always had talks when he was ready about things that happened to him, but every part of this man I love with my whole heart he changed my life for the better

I was broken out of my thought when one of my students called out to me

“Mrs Dixon what are those people doing out there?” Little Melanie asked pointing out the window

I got up and glanced outside to where the supposed problem was and what I saw caught my breath, people limping around ripping and biting into the flesh of others

“What the hell”

Please lmk what you think and what you’d like to see in the story going forward, any notes or advice is appreciated 🩷🎀

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @lettersfromyourlove @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken

#twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd x reader #twd fluff #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon series #twd #the walking dead series

[imthebadguyyy]

Coming Back Home To You

pairing : steve rogers x reader

fandom : marvel/avengers

synopsis : after a new threat wreak havoc on the team, steve suggests a safehouse with a surprise awaiting them inside.

a/n : inspired majorly by clints house!!

warnings : mentions of mind control and injuries etc. typical marvel stuff

the quinjet is completely silent, apart from the quiet hum of the engine. the entire team is still, dark shapes in the dimly lit cabin, everyone in varying levels of disarray.

natasha sits completely still, eyes staring unseeingly at the large console while a worried bruce sits beside her, combing her short red locks behind her ears. thor sits across from them, hand trembling slightly as it gripped mjolnir, mouth pressed in a thin line.

clint sits on the other end of the space, eyes squeezed shut as his wife spoke softly from the phone, reassuring him the 4 of them were all okay. tony sits a little away from him, his hands gripping his phone, staring at the picture of pepper and him peeking out at him.

wanda sits next to steve, her eyes wet with unshed tears, glimmering in the fading sunshine. steve casts worried glances in her direction from time to time, as he commanders the jet, the coordinates set in as he informs maria about where they're going. bucky sits on the other side, quiet, but not as badly affected as the rest. he had stayed on the jet for the majority of the time.

"i think we need a small break. some time to reset. whatever these things are, we need a break okay?" he says, voice firm. his team is down and he needs to look after them.

"where are you going to take them?" maria hill's voice fills the empty space. "a safehouse. fury knows where" is his cryptic response and she furrows a brow, but decides if fury knows, it's safe enough.

"okay. keep me posted" she replies, and logs off. steve takes a deep breath and wonders how it all went so wrong. one minute they were taking down the hydra base, and the second, they had all been blasted black, minds trapped in a simulation of them carrying out their deepest fears.

even wanda had been caught off guard, and before they knew it, bucky had brought the jet closer and steve was struggling off the ground to get the others back into the jet, back to safety.

they had all remained entrapped, until one by one it broke and they all snapped out gasping and shaking.

the sky is fading, a soft orange shade similar to ripe peaches, streaks of golden sunshine peeking out occasionally, as they sped away from the city, white clouds becoming more and more prominent as they reached the countryside.

after what felt like hours, steve landed the jet in what seemed like an isolated farmland, acres of green land and small dairy farms in smatterings across the area.

"where are we?" thor asked, helping wanda get to her feet. "yeah cap, are you sure this place is safe? it seems deserted" tony said, hiding the slight quiver in his knees.

"it's safe" he confirmed, helping bruce get natasha to her feet. "just have to walk for 5 minutes to the left" he continued, leading the way.

the team followed silently behind, trudging like a pack of kicked puppies, exhaustion laced on every line on all their faces.

"how do you know this place is safe?" clint asked, striding up to catch up with steve. "you'll see" he responded, smiling softly when a large house came into view.

"oh.." clint said, eyes brightening as he looked to steve for confirmation. he gave him a small smile in response.

a beautiful rustic, wooden house stood surrounded by what seemed like never ending green farmland. a beautiful wooden shed stood beside the house, and pretty flower pots and trees trailed around the house.

a beautiful patio was at the back of the house, with a small outdoor fire place and covered in fairy lights and small light bulbs, with a small table and couches.

it seemed to scream homely and comforting,and seemed to exude an aura of warmth. clint took in the place with a smile, noting the swing set and slide in the yard, and assorted collection of children's toys in the backyard.

"what is this place?" wanda muttered groggily, holding onto thor for support. "you'll see, but please wipe your feet on the mat" he said, gently pushing the front door of the house open.

what greeted them was the scent of vanilla and musk, oakwood and patchouli, and the subtle whiff of pinecones. the hallway was bright and sunny, pretty paintings and photos decorating the walls. there were small figurines made of ceramic, that looked hand painted.

as steve turned the corner, natasha noted the way he kept glancing up the long staircase, eyes glimmering with what looked like endless adoration.

"sweetheart?" he called softly, taking off his shield and setting it down on a shoe rack, that looked like it was made for his shield.

he neared the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon filled the air, and thors tummy rumbled loudly.

"steve?" came a honeyed voice, and the team was able to put a face to the voice when a gorgeous woman made her way out from behind the stove. she had eyes that sparkled softly, crinkled in a bright smile as she looked at their captain. she had an elegance to her, an aura of gentility and kindness that seemed to radiata in the brightness of her smile.

she was clad in a soft summer sundress dress, a pretty white dress that was covered in blue flowers, flowing just below her knees. they watched her eyes widen in joy, and rush towards steve, who pulled her into his arms, head burying into her neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her plush waist, pressing soft kisses to her shoulders, before pulling away and pressing his lips to her own, a deep, passionate kiss that took his breath away.

"hi sweetheart" he murmured against her lips before drawing back, suddenly hyper-aware of his team. "you're home!" the woman exclaimed again a soft laugh leaving her lips. "yes I am, and i have a few guests darling, i hope that's alright?" he asked, gently cradling her head in his palm

"uh sure! hi!" you said, waving kindly to the disheveled team. bruce smiled at you, confusion still present in his eyes, while thor and wanda gave you warm smiles. natasha looked at you giving you a once over, before flashing you a weak smile. she decided she liked your kind eyes.

"y/n!" bucky exclaimed, rushing forward to pull you into a tight hug. you laughed, squeezing him, before pulling back to assess him. "hi buck! how are you?"

the super soldier grinned at you, eyes flashing with an odd expression as he shook his head sadly. "I'm okay"

"care to introduce the rest of us?" tony chimed in awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"guys, meet my wife, y/n l/n rogers." steve said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in close to him.

"i know all your names" you confessed, playing with the string of your dress nervously as they all said hello softly.

"how long have you been married?" bruce asked, slowly warming up to his captains wife.

"about five years. fury helped me set this up like he helped clint. didn't want her getting involved in the dangers of being married to an avenger. thats why I don't wear my ring around everyone" he said, answering the questions on everyones lips.

"it's nice to meet you" wanda said shyly, and you gave her an encouraging smile.

"why don't you guys go and get changed and bathed? there's three bathrooms in here and a wash room in the shed in case you don't want to wait" you said , going towards the oven to turn it off. "I have some fresh cinnamon rolls and chocolate chip cookies in the oven, and i can have a cold jug of lemonade ready for you by the time you're done getting changed" you said, leaning down to make sure everything was done baking.

"where are my two troublemakers?" steve asked quietly, not wanting to spoil the biggest surprise of all. you smiled, pointing towards the staircase. "let me call them for you-" before you could finish, the thundering of footsteps became audible and you shared an amused glance with bucky.

"daddy!" two gleeful voices filled the air and two blue eyed, pigtailed figures came running into the kitchen, clad in denim dungarees and white shirts.

"hi my loves!" steve said, scooping both his daughters into his arms, laughing when they squealed and kissed his cheeks.

"we missed you!" the girl on the left said, burrowing into her dad. "so much!" the girl on the right completed, squishing his cheeks.

"guys, meet sarah marie rogers and stella jamie rogers" steve smiled proudly, to an awe struck group of avengers who had their jaws on the floor.

"you have children?!?!" natasha said, mouth agape as she stared at the twins in steve's arms. "actual puny little humans?" thor said, eyes as wide as saucers.

clint just laughed, waving to the little girls. stella buried her face in her dad's neck, clearly the more reserved of the two, while sarah waved brightly back at him.

"uncle bucky!" sarah exclaimed, reaching for the man who took her with a laugh, spinning her around. "hello little angel! I've missed you!" he laughed, ruffling her hair softly.

you watched your daughter's reuniting with their father, a soft smile on your face. how you had missed him!

"well, I guess captain america's got more than just his shield to protect now! who knew old cap could multitask? i wonder if he still gives the 'I can do this all day' speech during diaper changes." tony chimed in, smirking at steve.

you laughed at the comment, shaking his hand warmly. "yeah he does sometimes" you smirked, earning a look of betrayal from your husband while wanda and clint laughed.

"woah you're black widow!" sarah said, looking wide eyed at natasha. "you're my favourite avenger!" she exclaimed, earning a chuckle from the assassin, who raised her hand up for a high five.

"whose your favourite?" clint asked stella, his fatherly instincts kicking in.

stella mumbled something softly, still holding on to her daddy. "tell him sweetie, thats hawkeye, remember i told you about him?" steve urged gently, softly pushing his daughter's long locks away from her eyes.

"my favourite is thor" she mumbled, eyes widening as she took in the asgardian. steve watched as the god visibly melted, a bright smile on his face as he strode over to the little girl.

"it appears that i am the mightiest avenger in the eyes of the smallest mortal! dear child k if you require any tips on wielding a tiny hammer or battling bedtime monsters, you know who to call. i humbly acclaim myself your immortal servant" he said seriously, holding out his large hand for a handshake.

stella just turned away, shy and flustered at the hulking avenger before saying a soft "okay" earning a laugh from bucky.

"she's just a kid thor" bruce said, looking up from the paintings around the room. "did you guys paint these?" he asked, looking in awe of the paintings. "daddy did some and we did some" sarah responded, still happily snuggled in her uncle's arms.

"wow" wanda said, examining one of a field of tulips. "which one of you painted this?" she asked, looking over at you. "me" a shy voice responded as stella spoke up. "oh you're so talented!" wanda said, voice still soft. she related to this quiet child, and felt an immediate connect with her.

"t-thank you" she said, offering her a sugar sweet smile. "do you want to see my other paintings and crafts?" she asked, slowly clambering off her dad's lap, and walking carefully over to the sokovian.

"I'd love that!" she said, leaning her hands towards the little girl, who took her hand in her own.

"uncle bucky, do you want to help me build my trampoline?" sarah asked, arms looped around his neck. "sure sweetheart, we can do that".

"darling, let's let them all get comfortable first okay?" you interrupted, smiling when your younger twin (sarah) came bounding over to you for a hug.

"okay mama, I'm gonna go and show stella and auntie wanda some of my drawings too!" she said and she was shooting off like lightning again, but not before hugging her dad's knees and saying "i love you daddy!" again to steve.

as the team dispersed to the various bathrooms, steve led you up to your bedroom, closing the door behind you two.

"my sweet baby, I've missed you so much" he said, advancing towards you, cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging you close, forehead resting gently against yours.

"I've missed you more. are you okay? how come you're here?" you asked, brushing his sandy blonde locks away from his forehead.

his blue eyes clouded over and his grip on you tightened. "i thought i-" his voice broke and you immediately wrapped your arms around him, hearing him take a deep stuttering breath.

"there was this new hydra variant. some element of mind control. I saw you and the girls...lying here... cold and..." his voice broke and he pulled back, thumb grabbing your chin to yank you into a kiss.

he needed to feel you. to physically feel and make sure you were alive and right there with him.

"I'm right here steve, right here my darling. I'm okay, the girls are okay. and were all right here." you chanted like a mantra, stroking his hair.

he pulled you into a kiss again, messy, teeth and tongue clashing, hands roaming your waist, hips and finally resting in your hair and one hand on your waist.

"i love you" he murmured, eyes never leaving yours as he leaned back. "i love you more" you whispered back, slowly pushing him to sit down. "let's get you changed honey" you said, drawing a warm bath as you slipped into the bathroom.

steve took a deep breath.

it was all going to be okay.

he was finally home.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : let me know if this should have more parts!! was thinking of one with multiple scenarios of them bonding together, explaining their names etc etc! let me know!! I'm always open to chat too xoxox

happy reading!! ♥️

TAGS

all writing - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

marvel -

to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm specifying which fandom 🩷

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader comfort #steve rogers x reader hurt/comfort #marvel #marvel x reader #avengers age of ultron #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x female reader #captain america x reader fluff #captain america imagines #captain america x reader imagines #steve rogers imagines #avengers x reader #avengers x y/n #avengers x you

[reminiscingtonight]

baking kitchen mess (aitana bonmatí)

Recipe For Relaxing (Aitana Bonmatí x Reader)

A/N: Barca you're massive 💪

[WOSO Masterlist]

It’s been a long day.

First, your ever lovely girlfriend drank what was left of the coffee and left for an early training without even telling you.

Then your alarm clock seemingly forgot how to do its job, leaving you, still barely awake with no caffeine in sight, to scramble to make it to work on time.

The meeting you slipped into was already in motion, multiple eyes zeroing in on you as you tried to sneak in undetected. So with a healthy dose of tiredness and shame following you to your classroom, you really hoped that your rambunctious lot of third graders would magically surprise you with manners fit for royalty.

It really shouldn’t have irked you as much as it did when all twenty-five of them seemed to catch the wiggle-bug. Nobody was able to sit for more than a couple minutes without jumping or shouting what was on their minds.

By the time the clock signaled the end of the school day you were more than ready to rip out your hair. As politely as you could you wished all of your students goodbye, waving at their grinning faces as their parents herded them away.

Any hope you had at relaxing was dashed when you noticed the cars lining the street all the way up to your driveway.

Sighing, you drove a bit further away before parking on the curb, knowing better than to expect the girls to leave you a clear spot to park in your own driveway.

Mumbling under your breath you stepped over the shoes discarded carelessly by the door. Although you could hear laughter wafting from the living room, you took the side door to get a well needed beer from the fridge. As much as you loved Aitana and all twenty of her clubmates, you needed something to help rewind before even entertaining the idea of playing host.

The second your foot crosses the doorway leading into your kitchen however, you freeze. Your fingers tighten against the doorframe as you take in the sight in front of you.

Something was baking in the oven, but dirty bowls littered your counters, as did half-used ingredients. Flour covered almost every surface, even tracking throughout the ground. 

Clearly the girls had never heard of leaving things as they found it. 

You shut your eyes, jaw clenching so hard that you know your dentist will be giving you an earful when you see her next.

“Aitana Bonmatí Conca, what the hell did you do to my kitchen?!”

The chattering ceases instantly. 

Angrily turning around, you stomp into the living room to give the girls a piece of your mind.

You’re met with wide guilty eyes, the footballers looking scolded before you even started. 

“Hola bebé, you’re home early.” Aitana gives you a timid grin but you’re not amused.

Your nose flares angrily as you take another step forward. Everyone flinches when you shove a finger into Aitana’s chest. “Clean up my kitchen. Now.”

The air is silent as no one dares to move.

You quirk an eyebrow, tilting your head to make eye contact with the rest of the team. “Now! Pronto! Move your asses girls! I wanted it spotless yesterday!”

It’s like a hurricane storming when everyone scrambles up all at once. Quiet apologies are thrown your way as they pass by, everyone eager to escape your anger.

Aitana tries to sneak away with her teammates but your hand clamps down on her arm before she can even take a step.

“I love you?” she tries, deflating when she sees your unamused look.

“Aitana, babe, love of my life, I love you but you’re the bane of my existence. I’m exhausted and would love it if you could reign in the girls and not make messes for me to clean up.”

A look of determination crosses her face as Aitana nods quickly. “I will do a better job of cleaning up.”

“Thank you,” you sigh, relaxing a bit when Aitana timidly leans forward to give your forehead a soft kiss.

Your girlfriend takes it as a win when she wraps her arms around you and you instantly sink into her hold. The exhaustion from your day seemingly catches up to you as you sway dangerously, ready to go to bed despite it still being early. 

Sighing, you rub at your eyes before gently pushing Aitana off of you. “Thank you for putting up with me. ‘M sorry for yelling.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure you’ve had a long day. Is there anything I could do for you?”

Humming, you give her a kiss when she leans forward for one.

“Could you go get me a beer and tell the rest of the girls that they don’t have to hide in the kitchen from me?”

“I--” Aitana winces. “I think we’re out.”

When Ingrid pokes her head out of the kitchen a couple minutes later, selected by the bunch as the least likely to get her head bitten off by you, she’s met with the sight of you sitting on the couch, feet thrown up on the table as you mindlessly flip through the TV.

You hold up a stack of papers towards the Norwegian. 

“Got a new team bonding activity for you heathens.”

Aitana sighs when she catches sight of the rest of her teammates with each of their own personalized shopping lists at the store down the street. 

“She got you guys too?”

#aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes #3wp

[jqnehr]

❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.

boothill x fem!reader.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).

𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.

"You look like you should be in a saloon."

The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to something secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.

He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first I heard that one."

"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."

"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."

"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"

"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."

"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"

"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."

"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."

"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"

"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"

"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the 'prize money up', if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."

"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"

"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"

You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."

"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."

"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"

He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"

You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."

He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."

"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."

"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."

"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.

"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."

"You can't swear?"

"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."

You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."

"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."

"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."

He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."

"Gotcha." You leanes your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.

"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."

"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."

Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"

"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."

He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"

You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."

"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."

You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."

"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."

You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."

He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."

"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"

He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."

So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothilk stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."

With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.

you forgot to pay the bill for your drink

so I covered it for you.

you owe me one, cowboy

His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.

Oopsies 🤭

How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?

His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.

Alright then

I want steak

Can you even eat?

You liked how he always replied fast.

Nah

But that's fine

Your company's better

Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.

Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.

Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.

© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.

#i saw somewhere that apparently boothill was mostly illiterate?? oh well if he this then that last part was ooc ig #anyways this was so fun to write OMG #boothill honkai star rail #hsr boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill #boothill x y/n #boothill hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #boothill x female reader

[yuriisclumsy]

Hi im still not sure if this is how you request😅😅

But can you please write a scenario about a reader who is very flirty with cale and always having a way to insert flirty lines into their conversation while cale just ignores it (secretly liking it) but one day he had enough and responds to a flirty line that the reader just said which leads to the reader being shocked. Also bonus if the fam also actually sees it HAHAHAHA

Thanks for reading🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

Who's The Teaser Now?

»»►In this scenario I like to think [Name] has been a servant of Cale’s for years. Like, she saw him when the two were teens , and was like “Well damn, hot momma. You lookin’ fine tonight,” like a high school girl drooling for her crush. And the rest is history.

»»►Having [Name] flirt with you for YEARS makes you unreactive to her remarks; immune to any of her advances. But one day, because he was feeling festive, he decided to reply to one of [Name]’s many flirty lines.

»»►And let me tell you. [Name]. Was. SHOCKED. Pikachu style.

»»►Now we jump to the present.

Cale was on his way to relax in Heris Village, where his villa resided, after the battle with Arm in the Hais Islands. Only to have it disturbed not even two minutes into the carriage ride back to the Henituse Territory, by none other than [Name] the Simp.

She first started soft, asking if he was alright after the battle: “You didn’t get injured, right?” To: “Well, just WHO would even hurt such a refined gentleman such as yourself, Oh young and handsome Master Cale?”

Now Cale was starting to get pissed. He just wanted a nice, AND QUITE, ride back. But no, he just had to hear your annoying voice…. 

Oh. An idea just crossed his mind.

Let’s see if this will resolve his problem, even if there is a possibility of it backfiring. 

“Y’know Master Cale, every girl in the Henituse Territory is now DYING to see your pretty face. Especially after getting that fancy title of yours. A title, which I must say, is rather fitting of you, young master. Honestly, I’m so lucky that I can just admire it whenever you call me. If you asked me to marry you I wouldn’t even think for a second and just say yes. Truly, a dream come true!” [Name] was making his, On’s, Hong’s, and Raon’s ears fall off with how much she was talking.

Ah! Wait a second. This was the perfect opportunity! 

“Oh yeah?” Cale started, “If I were to fall on my knee and ask you for your hand, would you accept in a heartbeat?” He asked as one curious gaze and two unsure gazes fell on him.

[Name] just looked at Cale, unsure at why he was asking. Usually he just orders her to do something to get her away, or simply ignores her altogether.

“Uhh-uhh..yeah?” She answered.

“Then you don’t mind if I do this then,” he said, getting down on one knee in the moving carriage. 

At this point [Name]’s eyes were wide, almost to the point they might pop out her sockets.

Cale took her right hand and looked up to meet her eyes. With a wide smile he asked, “[Name] [Last Name], will you do me the honor of making me the happiest man alive, and give me your hand in marriage?” He finished.

The children looked at him like he had a loose screw. Had he finally a lost it after not getting a break to be a slacker? Was this his limit? [Name] had an unreadable expression. Almost concerning.

Did I go too far? Cale asked in his head while assessing her expression. What scares me the most is that she isn’t saying anything cheezy inturn, a sweat drop apparent in his face, falls.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

A screeching yell was heard from inside the compartment. The carriage stopped and those outside came running to aid–in what their opinion was a threat–those inside the carriage.

“Young Master Cale! Is everyone alright?! What happened—!?” Choi Han asked in a hurry, swinging the door of the carriage wide open, sword in hand. Only to see Cale kneeling on the floor of the carriage with a [Name] crunched up on the corner of the seat opposite to the door.

What happened? 

All everyone could see was a girl that looked like she was dying slowly in a corner, and a young Master that probably fell from his seat after the carriage suddenly stopped. 

To not make things more awkward, Cale spoke.

“Ah, you guys,” he got their attention, “go back. [Name] just saw a bug. So there is no need to worry.” He skillfully lied, sitting back up.

“...if you insist,” getting a hesitant response from Choi Han, and some worried looks from the others. 

All the while Ron is just smiling in the back. We all know he knows what happened.

Going back to their positions, the carriage started moving again. Only this time, it was quiet. Just how Cale liked it. He looked at the source of the blissful peace to see the girl still in a crouched up position.

“Huff, where did that ‘say yes in a heartbeat’ go?” Cale asked the girl, getting that last remark for his triumph.

In response, all he heard was a muffled “Shut up…!” from her.

Red hues adorned her ears, indicating she was blushing. She was trying so hard to hide her face with her arms and legs too.

How cute.

No wonder [Name] enjoyed doing this to him, being the one on the teaser end is certainly amusing.

He smiled, looking out the window, deciding not to tease her anymore to save her from more embarrassment.

He should turn this into a hobby after seeing that expression on her face.

Hello, lovelies! I hope you enjoy this. Surprisingly I wrote this in two days...fascinating.

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @lureslutes, @cruzerforce4256, @narcise63. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Lout of Count's Family for more updates.

Lout Of Count's Family Master-List

Master-List

#cale henituse x reader #cale henituse #trash of the count's family x reader #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #lout of the count's family x reader #reader input #x reader #manhwa x reader #totcf #manhwa #manhwa fanfic

[kitchenisking]

Day 4

Seires Fic Rec part 14

Queer Your Coffee by alisvolatpropiis - (Queer Your Coffee) - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 3,084, sterek)

Derek's just over the city line when he sees a sign for an independent drive-thru place, Full Spectrum Brew. There are three cars in line when he turns in, which annoys him but gives him hope. Not that he really trusts the people of Beacon Hills to have much taste when it comes to coffee (god, he is a snob), but the shop’s popularity does seem to bode well. The line of cars moves way more slowly than he’d like, each customer in front of him seeming to take way too long to order, and then lingering when they get their coffee. He’s irritable from lack of sleep and an even more detrimental lack of caffeine, anxious to get out of the car. Finally it’s his turn and he slowly rolls up to the window, turning the radio down.

For a second, he thinks he must have fallen asleep while he was waiting, because what he sees when he looks in the window surely must be a dream.

Stunning brown eyes like glowing honey and sweet little nose, slightly upturned; a shapely pink mouth, bottom-lip pierced by a thin black hoop that he's worrying with the tip of his tongue as he smiles a gorgeous hello.

He's the most beautiful man Derek's ever seen.

And he’s shirtless.

It's a Beautiful Night by khasael - (Hale and Hearty) - (Rating: T, Words: 2,887, sterek)

Just because they're all almost used to fighting against the Creature of the Week and assorted other Bad Guys, doesn't mean it doesn't get Stiles's heart rate going.

Dream a Little Dream by Yoiko - (A Little Dream of Me ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,101, sterek)

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. And since this is my dream you’re going to let me do it.”

All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man. by devilscut - (There are nights when the wolves are silent and the moon howls.) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 11,687, sterek)

A shell-shocked Stiles regroups with the pack to find his father who has been kidnapped by the Darach. Their search leads them to the Nematon, where their confrontation with the Darach reveals her plans and that there is more to being a True Alpha than they know. Derek and his family's legacy is at the heart of her schemes and when the Darach has him under her control Stiles begins to realise the extent of how much he really cares for the sourwolf. In true Scooby-doo fashion, the villain has told them of her plans but more shockingly to Stiles she also reveals a very important aspect of his and Derek's relationship.

The virtue of patience by nofeartina - (Patience) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,827, sterek)

Stiles isn't afraid of admitting his feelings to Derek, but that doesn't mean that Derek wants to hear it. 

Or the one where Stiles knows that all good things come to those who wait.

I Feel Like You Can't Feel the Way I Feel by i_might_be_in_over_my_head - ( Einherjar MC ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 14,087, sterek)

“Fuckin A, dude! The last time you gave me that look I ended up in the woods in the middle of the night, lost my inhaler, and almost died. Please tell me why you’re always trying to get me killed?” Scott shook his head resigned. He knew Stiles was going in and nothing he could say would change that. “If we wake up dead tomorrow just remember this was your idea.”

Stiles threw his fist in the air enthusiastically, almost punching Scott in the face, and turned to the door. He knew if he didn’t go quick Scott would probably change his mind and he’d have to start all over. “Dude that was sophomore year of high school, let it go! Plus dead body! We had to go. We’ll just have a drink and check it out. It’ll be fun!”

fingertips have memories by thatworldinverted - (let's talk about sex ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,800, sterek)

Pochemuchka (Russian), noun: a person who asks a lot of questions. 

"I saw the way you watched me, when I was home last month. How long have you been dreaming about getting me on my knees?"

seems to me it's chemistry by HalfFizzbin - (covalent bonds) - (Rating: T, Words: 4,153, sterek)

Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him.

These next two fics go hand in hand. 😇

The One with All the Kids by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 6,527, sterek)

Derek didn't know what he did to deserve to have this again. A house full of people, of family. He's going to be forever grateful to that rouge witch for what she did for him and Stiles, because after all the hurt they went through together, many years later, they're standing in the Pack house, in their house, surrounded by their family.

A New Hale by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 4,543, sterek)

The Pack meets the werewolf cub that Stiles and Derek gets placed with them on Christmas.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs #seriesficrec

[muchlov3ashley]

𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓣𝓸𝓸 𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓵~ (𝓖𝓸𝓳𝓸’𝓼 𝓥𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷)

Au! Actor!Gojo x Singer!R

______________________

(AN) Hello!! This is my first post! So uh beware ! Don’t Know how far this will go to but prob less than 10 chapter (also depends on if it does well) . Hope you enjoy ! 💋

Y/n an up and coming singer. Gets booked as a songwriter for a movie. Producer ends up loving Y/n for the role of lead actress. What could go wrong with a Costar!Gojo?

Fluff! Smut! Angst! Fake-dating! Enemies to lovers!

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𝓒𝓱1-Tolerate It || Pilot 

“You ready?” Asked your manager Sarori. “Yeah just-.. very nervous.” You said swallowing walking towards the big filming warehouse. “C-mon Y/N, we’ve gone over the lines over and over, you’ve done some acting too.!” Said Sarori. “Well yeah but those were little roles, plus I sing not act, I only got this role because the girl who was supposed to do it broke her arm..” You stated. “Look when you’re singing you’re telling a story, now you’re still doing that just telling a story made from someone else and not singing..”stated Sarori opening the door to the film warehouse. “They director still kind off hand picked you! Don’t forget this will also boost your singing career!” Exclaimed Sarori. You nodded sighing

“Y/N?!” Exclaimed nonchalantly a man in a suit with slick back hair and a lollipop in his mouth. He looks young and good looking, wouldn’t mind him being my costar you thought.. “Pleasure to meet, it’s Kusakabe.” He said extending a hand for you to shake then extending it to Sarori. “The pleasure is ours, director.” Said Sarori. Oh. “It’s nice to meet you, thank you for having me in this project.” You said bowing down a little. “Your room is to the left, room 2 it has your name card on it, make yourself at home.” Said Kusakabe. “Director Kusakabe, is it fine if we discussed the plan for Y/N.” Said Sarori. “Sure.” Now you were all alone. “What the heck Sarori you can’t just leave me all alone.” You thought .

______________________

Now you decided to go look for your room. Walking towards the left, you see a name card “Satoru Gojo” maybe he’s my costar? You thought still walking, finally finding your room right in-front of his. You left your door somewhat open just in case Sarori comes back. “Wow.” You said in amazement, everything coming to realization. You kissed your infinite pendant on your necklace. “I’m about to make my dreams come true mom, wish you were here to see it though.” You whispered.

You sat down infront of the vanity touching up your makeup . When you heard a voice from the hallway outside. “Suguruu, I can’t believe they paired greatness to a little pop star, this isn’t some broadway musical theater movie.” He huffed. “Nah she must’ve done something with the director to get the job.” He said. Your jaw dropped. “Can’t believe I’m going to have to date her-.” He got mid sentence when Sarori brushed pass him opening the door to your room “Y/N!” Exclaimed Sarori. Gojo peaking into the room. Sarori slammed the door shut giving Gojo a glare.

Your head was on the vanity’s desk. “Is it too late to quit?” You mumbled. “Y/N!” Said Sarori. You looked up facing her. “Don’t some silly playboy stop you from achieving your dream, after this movie he’ll be pointing at a billboard and saying that I can’t believe was in a movie with her.!” Sarori motivated you. You sighed letting a smile. “You’re right Sarori, I won’t let you down.” You exclaimed. Sarori gave you a thumbs up with a smile. “C-mon let’s go” said Sarori. You got up unclipping your infinite necklace just to be careful leaving it on the vanity table. “Goodluck dating him.” Teased Sarori. “Is it too late to take that out of the contract, will it really be that useful for the pr of the movie.” You huffed exhaustively. “Too late, Y/N.” Answered Sarori. 

______________________

𝓖𝓸𝓳𝓸’𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥

Gojo walked inside to his dressing room. “Suguruu- she definitely heard me.” He said. “Gojo she probably did, and you need to stop being such an assho-.” Suguru said before being cut off. “Whatever.” Gojo said. “You know Gojo, this movie has been in a high demand, the book is extremely popular, you fuck this movie up and you’ll have a bunch of angry fans Harassing you-. You should probably apologize.” Said Suguru. “Whatever, whatever.” Gojo said sticking his tongue out, as if geto could see him. “All lot of people are excited about this movie, this will probably get you closer to that silly dream of yours.” “Okay dammit, I get it I’ll apologize.” Said Gojo hanging up.

The whole rest of the day of the meeting your coworkers day went fine.. Just hella tension between Gojo- and you. Soon came time to leave. Gojo went to his dressing room to grab his backpack and other stuff he brought with him. Walking out to the hallway seeing your room with a name card on it that read “Y/N.” “Guess I better apologize.” The door creaked open. “Huh, she must’ve already left.” He said walking towards the vanity when something caught his eye. “Hmm, An infinity necklace. What a weird coincidence.” He looked over to the infinity tattoo on his wrist, comparing it the infinity pendant on your necklace. Putting it into his pockets just so you wouldn’t loose it, in case you had some sentimental value to you.

“Hey gojo.” Said Suguru digging in the fridge. Gojo walked over to sit at the kitchen island’s stool. “Who gave you keys to my apartment?” Commented Gojo. “Why don’t you anything to eat?” Scoffed Suguru. “I just got this apartment, some of us actually have things to do Suguru.” Said Gojo rolling his eyes. “Anyways did you apologize to the girl?” “Uh-. No.” Gojo said digging in his pockets. Pulling out the necklace. Also putting his wrist with the tattoo out , for him to compare. “Look Suguru.” Suguru started comparing. Suguru started laughing. “Must be your soulmate or something.” Gojo just rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Well I’ve listen to some of that girl’s music. She writes about love, heartbreaks, and some other stuff. Better be careful Gojo, or she’ll write something unpleasant about you.” Teased geto. “She has a good amount of popularity to, when it comes to lyrics and voice she’s very gifted-.” Once again getting cutoff by gojo. “Damn geto, so much praising. You might as well date her yourself.” “She still has to proof to me she capable of working with someone as amazing as me. At least she has the pretty face to make up for it.” “You think too highly of yourself.” Scolded geto.

______________________

Half a month had gone by. Tension between you and gojo stayed the same. Causing the acting to be mediocre. Something has to be done about it.

Knock knock. “Come in. Oh-.” You looked at the figure with white soft hair and bright blue eyes through the vanity mirror.You were still somewhat pissed of what he said, but nonetheless your a people-pleaser. You turned around in your chair. “How can I help you Gojo?”. He stood leaning on the wall behind the door. “Look I’m going out to restaurant with a few friends, if you want come by, maybe a few drinks will ease you up? And get you to actually get your shit together and do a better job.” He said walking out before you could answer him.

You decided on going, after all you wanted do you best on this movie, this might ease up the tension between you two. But still you’re gonna confront him for being such a bitch.

______________________

You arrived to the fancy Nobu type of restaurant with Sarori, he said he had a few friends eating with the two of you, so bringing one friend wouldn’t hurt. You walked to the waiter up front describing Gojo. He walked you over to the table him and his friends were at. You shook everyone’s hand and introduced yourself. Gojo himself nowhere to be seen. Sarori sat by a man with pinkish hair. You sat in front of a man with long-ish black hair named Suguru Geto. Remembering he was the man Gojo was talking to when he was saying rude stuff about you.

“Gojo’s probably hooking up with some random ig model-.” Spoke a brown hair girl Nobara, before getting caught off .“Gojo should be here any moment.” “I’ve listened to some of your music, you’ve got talent.” Suguru said with a warm smile on his face. “Oh, thank you, i’m pleased to hear, nice to meet you Geto.” You said with a smile on your face happy to hear the words that came out of his mouth, you brought out your hand take shake his hand. He grabbed your gently, going to place a kiss on it when, a bump interrupted it. You saw the gojo sliding into the booth

He started talking to the waiter ordering every one drinks, but he settled on a fizzy drink. You looked over to Sarori to find her flirting with a pink-ish haired boy. “This is gonna be a long night .” You thought. Mostly talking with Geto throughout the night. Gojo Barely said a word to you throughout the night. He was on the phone going back and forth with someone. He was heavily eyeing you though you didn’t notice though.

Before you’d knew it you were drunk. It was still somewhat early. But you wanted to go home. Suguru had already left, he had work in the morning. So in order to get your mind off the boredom and the anxiety, you drank and ended drinking too much. Sarori was still in a deep talk Itadori. You didn’t want to ruin the moment for them. Grabing your car keys. “I’m going home, call me if you need something.” You said. “Y/N you drank to much, let’s go.” She said getting up. “No it’s fine I don’t wan’t ruin the moment.” You said rubbing your forehead. Itadori nudge on Gojo’s shoulder. “Remember you owe me one.” Whispered Itadori to Gojo enough for you not to hear. Gojo huffed it would also be a good time to talk and clear up things he thought. He got up grabbing your car keys in swift motion “Cmon Y/N , I’ll take you home.” Said Gojo. The last thing you wanted , was go with him. But Sarori gave you a “please look.” You sighed “fine.” Walking out with Gojo towards your car.

You sat in silence the whole ride, putting on the gps to your apartment building. He walked you up towards your apartment. Now you were all alone with him.

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Ch2 Preview-Why has your Actor Costar!Gojo been such an asshole? What are his goals? You’re about to find out! ;)

Okayy- this was a boring chapter trust it’ll get better this was just to set the setting 😜 .! Slight suggestive scenes next chapter! Give it chance I swear it gets better ! 🙏🏼

Please Repost and @ me . Like and follow so I know you’re liking the series! Feedback Too Very appreciated !

LOVE YALL! 💋

Taglist: @sakui1

Next Chapter!

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk satoru #Spotify

[talesfromawannabejournalist]

Stayed Gone

inspired by this cover of the song https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=73x8V1LrEwI&pp=ygUbc3RheWVkIGdvbmUgbHV0ZSBhbmQgbGlsaXRo

imagine if Lilith tried and make a deal with Adam

Lilith: As head of the angelic exterminators I’m prepared to offer a once in a lifetime deal to you and by extension your hell born subjects, and spawn

Adam: What is it?

Lilith: Your an incredibly influential demon, the most influential since you are the queen of this pit. Which would mean that the sinner who stole the winner must’ve thought he could do that do to him thinking he was somehow more powerful than Heaven!

Adam: I didn’t tell him to do anything! It’s not my fault what happened!

Lilith: But it IS your fault, for getting in the way of how things were MEANT to be. However, you have a chance to correct this little mistake of yours. All you have to do is to stop empowering them and we will spare the filth that are born down here and all we kill are the wretched. Sound good?

Adam laughs hard at the angel and wipes a tear from his eye looking at her eyes flashing a bit.

Adam: I'm sorry, but was that your form of a threat?

Lilith: I run the ship now so let me be clear, a demon took an angel that's no joke this situation is severe! You need to bring your subjects down! Get them straight in line, and while you are at it try and weaken them so they will take it as a sign! You must begin now because you're running out of time! So, if you want your family unharmed then make sure all your subjects are unarmed!

Adam's eyes flashed red in warning which caused Lilith to falter for a moment. That allowed Adam to take the lead in the conversation.

Adam: You mean do your bidding? No thanks, I'd rather not, this place called Hell is my domain so don't you dare act up just cause you're divinely ordained! How dare you try and threaten me! Just cause you're too stupid to flee from his royal majesty! I'll keep doing as I please and who are you to disagree? Now move you BITCH you're blocking my way!

Adam pushes her nonetheless gently past her and heads towards the exit of the embassy. But still calls out to Lilith while walking away.

Adam: You mustn't know me very well you're speaking to the QUEEN OF HELL!!! I can bring you down and have you begging on your knees.

Lilith with a scoff crosses her arms.

Lilith: Oh please!

Adam: I couldn't care less about what you lead, my power far out exceeds your authority and that's a guarantee!

Lilith: So, you're just going to let your spawn die huh? Always took you for the cowardice type but never thought I'd see you be a little bitch in per,

Lilith finds herself with her back thrown to the ground with Adam standing on top of her.

Adam: Oh, I'm sorry I couldn't hear you when you choked on your own spit! Let me be clear if you hurt them I'll make you wish you stayed gone, is that clear? I'll make you wish you were still dead for your sins. Oh this will be fun!

Adam's claws and fangs sharpened, his eyes glowing a manic yellow, no gold as he looked down at the angel who understood that the Queen of Hell wasn't kidding in the slightest.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel #Building a garden au #Angel Lilith #Queen Adam Morningstar #demon Adam #Commander Lilith of the exorcists

[randomfoggytiger]

Dreamland II: Golf Clubs, Diana Fowley, and Mulder's Father

(Courtesy of: @theparadigmshifts)

Dedicated to @goodshipsmulder~

I started out this post trying to draw parallels between Mulder's golf clubs and his past relationship with Diana. Yet, nothing about the Fowl One screamed "golf" or even upper-class country club to me; not enough, at least, for Mulder to spend money on and continually reuse a pair of clubs at her insistence.

However, I stumbled into another entirely other theory-- one that connects directly back to the late Bill Mulder.

Here we go~

DIANA FOWLEY, GOLF CLUBS, AND ORIGINAL THEORIES

Diana Fowley and golfing don't seem to fit in the same sentence: ease and relaxed calculation doesn't quite jive with bold and determined manipulation.

She's career driven: her work ethic caught the eye of the Consortium either before or after she and Mulder discovered the X-Files; and she took trips back and forth from Europe to Tunisia weekly to report her findings. Not to mention, she and Mulder were partners during his first couple months to first year on the files (if my timeline is accurate), and she's shone to fix his singular focus more firmly to "the work" in service of her own end goals. Diana's compliments and wheedling in The End imply she's not slackened her pace years later, and that she believes she can pick right up where Scully left off and do more and do it better.

Perhaps she and Phoebe Green were sporty types, more inclined to low cardio workouts to keep active and in shape. This would be an interesting juxtaposition to Scully (a tomboy Navy brat who had better things to do than hit horsehide with a stick); meaning, she lacked the sporty inclination of Mulder's previous exes.

Or, perhaps, the golf clubs are another manifestation of Mulder's fleeting interests after moving back stateside. Perhaps he took it up briefly, memories of his blueblood years leading him to that low impact sport first before he switched to swimming (maybe golfing was too mind numbing or it wasn't mind-numbing enough with other people interrupting his focus.)

Perhaps he took it up because Diana suggested it; or maybe he was trying to "find himself" in the wake of Phoebe cheating or Diana leaving.

However, speculations with maximum Fowley influence don't quite fit into the timeline suggested by the room's "design."

WHAT WE KNOW

(Courtesy of: @amplifyme)

What we do know is: the bed had to be the first neglected item in this room, surrounded as it is by piles of boxes, knickknacks, and junk. The golf clubs were a more recent addition-- more to the front of the line-- and look older and used. There is also upturned plastic totes, old boxes separate from the neat storage boxes in the back, a basketball hoop, a punching bag, a bowling pin-- all a bit used-- and Cougar's sports memorabilia, as well as fuzzy dice, a flat bat or rowing paddle, and newer magazines and file folders.

The bedframe is blocked in by boxes and junk on three of its sides, meaning it was the first item placed into this room. Next to it are boxes stacked professionally, and high. It's unlikely that Mulder would have done so neat a job. And the overturned totes, sports gear, and assorted mess are more recent additions-- hastily packed or thrown together, toppling and spilling out easily with one swing of the door: in other words, Mulder's work.

Thus, the stages are revealed.

The bedframe was placed first; at an undisclosed time later, the boxes were professionally placed around it; and at an undisclosed time after that, Mulder chucked in at least two totes, a lamp (he wedged into the second layer of boxes), fuzzy dice, and sports gear on top of a pullout or loveseat or fabric chair. The golf clubs fall into that addition. And lastly but also undisclosed (and likely on-going), he stuffed in light, assorted papers or shirts or whathaveyou he was too lazy to put away properly right then.

Let's break this down in layers.

EXAMINING THE EVIDENCE: BEDFRAME, BOXES, AND TIMELINES

The bedframe and boxes must be tackled first.

His bedframe is empty (though intact) and neatly set aside in the corner of the room. That seems to be stage one of unpacking and rearranging-- meaning, in my opinion, Mulder crammed the boxes in right after his and Diana's relationship ended. Mulder chooses smaller spaces to sleep (the couch, the bed he bought after Monday); and he also tends to collect but never unpack his hoarded loot. Those boxes can't be casefiles from the FBI since they'd never let him keep them longer than required for a case; and his most treasured valuables are kept in the basement, anyway. Leaving one to believe they're his belongings: things he brought over from Oxford (if he did) or things he bought after moving out of the dorms.

And when was Mulder no longer living in dorm rooms? Post his education, likely around the time he and Diana were dating.

Two theories present themselves: Mulder's things were moved from Diana's apartment after she left, and he never unpacked them; or Mulder himself recently moved into this apartment after Diana left.

The latter would have to mean he had somewhere else to live for the five years he and she were together. However, there's a few in-canon points that negate this theory, broadly pointing to a close or working relationship that spanned two apartments rather than one house:

Mulder tells Scully in Home that if he could "settle down" it'd be "in a place like this." Settling down, in his case, meant the home as well as the environment-- living in that location with those people in that kind of a house was still a fantasy without any tempered reality. Mulder would have lived in his parents' home on the Vineyard then in dorms in Oxford and back in other dorms in the States. Afterwards, the commute to the FBI would have excluded a house if in included his focus; and both he and Diana were very focused on work back then. To Mulder, owning a house was still a fantasy, not yet a practical reality, something he associated fondly with better days and better dreams for the future.

On top of that, Mulder is out of place in houses or suburbia, neither fitting in nor feeling in his own skin when prancing about in Arcadia. Yes, he was proving a point to the neighbors (and to Scully); but he wasn't comfortable there: it was too much, too spacious, too empty; and he found corners to wedge himself into-- hopping up on cabinets, hedging himself in with pillows, cramming in a chair up close to the door instead of other manners of surveillance, etc. (That's an entirely other meta post.) Mulder displayed discomfort above and beyond "proving a point": he wasn't used to the "stereotypical American life"-- he was weirded out by the austere space of it.

Mulder is further unsettled by suburbia in Amor Fati: in that case, he has command of his actions (to an extent), doesn't have to play to "the rules", has his sister, and is (seemingly) largely in charge of his life. And yet, it's "too perfect", leaving him to wonder why he's there. Mulder wasn't surprised to see Diana sweep in and seduce him (post here)-- he was shocked when she not only embraced a slower-paced life but wanted to also further domesticate it.

In Mulder's mind, settling down included a home and kids-- whether it was he and his sister riding bikes and eating bologna sandwiches or a distorted view of Diana wanting his babies and raising his sons-- and a rest from constantly running. Permanence. He looked upon it whimsically, not cynically or longingly like he would if he'd tried his best at that vision and failed (i.e. bought a home, had a "life", and lost it to work.)

In evidence of this, Mulder is shocked when Diana returns-- but not hardened against her or drawn back into a life with her. There are no ties beyond the past; and those ties weren't definitive enough for him to have closure or even completely sever, a classic Mulder move. There were five years between them; but nothing that would jeopardize or taint the idealistic world Mulder is trying to bring to fruition by recovering his sister and restoring that happy homelife lost to her abduction.

So, what does that mean for the bed and boxes? When Diana left, she probably emptied her apartment and sent over his share of the belongings-- assets of a partial but incomplete merger. Those stayed stored and cluttered around his bed while Mulder philosophically took the couch. They're not enough clutter to have filled a house, but more than enough to spill over into two apartments.

EXAMINING THE EVIDENCE: ASSORTED AND SPORTING ITEMS

But that leaves the clubs, the bowling pin, the basketball hoop, the punching bag, the rest of the etc ceteras, and the totes stacked (read: jammed) frontside.

Compared to the Cougars jersey, the golf clubs, bowling pin, punching bag, basketball hoop, etc., appear older, used, and worn.

Turns out, the Cougars are a Houston football team jersey-- and where were Mulder and Scully recently during the opening events of Fight the Future? Despite not attending yet another football game together, it would be like him to pick up memorabilia that had special significance to him about them. If that be the case, Mulder, it would seem, associates Scully with football. Perhaps she prefers it to other sports (until baseball ranked higher up her list after The Unnatural, that is)-- in fact, that would make sense: part and parcel of the stereotypical, all-American Navy family raised on Thanksgiving meals and afternoon football.

Meanwhile, the golf clubs and other sports gear can't be a recent Mulder purchase-- not only because of their wear and tear, but also because of the extent of their wear and tear in contrast to the general lack of time Mulder has to devote to sports other than a morning swim, a once-in-a-while basketball game, and the sports tv he ingests come rain or shine. We've seen him shoot hoops (Paper Hearts, later Two Fathers), we've even seen him sink a bowling ball dead center (Elegy), but we've never seen him take up golf or boxing.

So, if they aren't recent purchases... what were they?

THE REMNANTS OF CHILDHOOD

Bill Mulder was murdered in Anasazi and buried in The Blessing Way; but his house had to have been cleaned out and sold sometime after his death.

Tena Mulder always avoided peering into the past, avoiding it entirely whenever her son pressed her for memories (and ultimately burning her children's photos in Sein und Zeit to protect its secrets.) That leaves Mulder to pack up and sell or hire to have the house packed up and sold.

I believe the sports equipment was from his childhood. It would explain the wear and tear on the basketball hoop (referred to in a deleted Two Fathers scene here) and the bowling pin, as well as the presence of the unidentified sporting stick and fuzzy dice. (It would also explain why he stuck them with his new magazines and papers.)

But most importantly, I believe the golf clubs were his father's.

Golf requires a particular set of skills: silent calculation, strategic aim, and the ability to reposition oneself if the original swing goes wrong. While Mulder destresses through aggressive play (whether swimming alone or working alongside others he trusts will have his back) and Gibson Praise out predicts his competitor's next move and CSM plays by the blind hand of luck, Bill Mulder retires away from stress, decisions, and consequences, preferring to keep to himself (post here and here.) Preferring not to compete.

Perhaps the punching bag was Bill Mulder's, too: a solitary way to release his pent-up feelings of helplessness and rage.

CONCLUSION: A SEQUENCE OF EVENTS

Diana moves to Europe; and Mulder either moves out of her apartment with the bedframe (minus mattress) and boxes or moves her boxes into his bedroom (and sells the mattress he might not have liked to begin with.)

Years later, his father dies. Mulder, a packrat at heart, can't let go of the happier times he connects with his childhood gear. Tena likely wouldn't want it cluttering up her already cluttered basement; so, he shoves it into his unused bedroom, stuffing them all to the left. In the tote closest to the door, he put his easily retrievable items (i.e. magazines, rumpled shirts, fuzzy dice, a few assorted bats, and miscellaneous filing folders) that he retrieves at will.

After Mulder's return from Houston, he opens the door and chucks in the jersey. However, it disturbs the balance of his haphazard system, beginning an avalanche that he quickly closes the door against. With the door in place, disaster is avoided, for now.

A few months after that, Morris Fletcher flings the door open and watches in appalled indignation as Mulder's junk spills onto the floor.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #xf meta #meta #mine #S6 #Dreamland II: Golf Clubs Diana Fowley Childhood Fantasy and Bill Mulder #Dreamland II #Diana Fowley #golf clubs #Mulder #Bill Mulder #Phoebe Green #Scully #Morris Fletcher #PreS1 #Teena #Tena Mulder #Anasazi #Two Fathers #conjectures #speculations #thoughts #x-files #xfiles #the x files

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Top Shelf Love: Prologue

A/N: So, if you know me, you know that I love hockey. But if there's one thing I don't love, it's hockey romances because they are always so inaccurate that it's take you out of the story SO QUICK! Like what do you mean the captain of this NCAA D1 team is undrafted? What do you mean she magically has access to an NHL locker-room in the middle of a game? So this is my response to that! A super self-indulgent Nessian Hockey AU. For additional hockey context: Cassian is a defenseman for the NY Rangers; Rhys is a center for the Montreal Canadiens; Az is a winger for the Nashville Predators; and Lucien is a winger for the Toronto Maple Leafs. Anyways! Hope everyone enjoys this prologue and this absolute meet-ugly! Happy final day of @nestaarcheronweek

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Next Part

Nesta

Nesta sighs softly, tilting her head back against the leather of the seat. Almost instantly, she scrunches her nose, the stale scent of cigarettes, of sweat and previous occupants, flooding her senses. Eager for a distraction, she peers out the window instead. The skyscrapers loom like shadowed giants on either side of the road, a cascade of colorful lights spilling from their windows and reflecting off the wet roads, the puddles from the earlier rain. Throngs of bodies move along the sidewalks, neither the late hour or the dark clouds still clinging above deterring them clearly.

The city that never sleeps indeed.

The cab jerks to a stop along the curb, the driver not even bothering to turn around and say anything to her, merely tapping the fare display. With a roll of her eyes, Nesta fishes her wallet out of her purse to pay before finally slipping out of the cab. At least the driver pulls her suitcase from the trunk, setting it on the sidewalk beside her.

“Nesta! You finally made it!”

It takes everything within Nesta to swallow back down another sigh, takes all her willpower to force at least a hint of a smile to tug across her face. She can feel her earlier annoyance still simmering just beneath her skin, can still feel the exhaustion weighing down her bones. She’d give anything to be back in her own bed right now, anything to slip beneath her pile of blankets and curl up with a good book, but she’s here for Feyre, here to celebrate her baby sister.

So Nesta rolls her shoulders and plasters on an even wider smile before she turns around. But she should have known better, should have known that despite the physical distance between them, there’s no fooling her sisters. From the way Feyre raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching up in the barest hint of an unimpressed smirk, it’s clear she sees straight through Nesta.

“Sorry,” Nesta winces, her shoulders drooping already. “Journey from hell.”

“Sounds like you need a drink,” Elain offers with an easy smile, stepping forward and taking the handle of Nesta’s suitcase.

“Or five,” Feyre adds with a chuckle.

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t exactly disagree. A stiff drink definitely sounds appealing after the nightmare of the day she’s had.

“I saw online that a lot of flights were just straight canceled, so I think you’re lucky to have made it at all,” Elain comments, leading the way along the sidewalk.

“I don’t know that I’d call a six hour delay lucky,” Nesta grumbles, practically shuddering at the memory of being stuck sitting and waiting in an airport for so long.

Nesta follows her sisters inside the building, but they take the elevator down, rather than up, Elain leading the way toward a black SUV. She tells her sisters more about the horrible journey as they walk. About the surprisingly long line at security. About the storms in the midwest and the delays and havoc they wreaked on all flights. About the child that seemed determined to scream for the entire five hour flight.

Once Nesta’s bags are securely locked away in Elain’s car, they return to the elevator and take it all the way up to the eighteenth floor, the doors opening with a soft ding. There’s no stopping the way Nesta’s jaw slackens as she takes it all in. A large centerpiece extends from the floor and fans out into the ceiling, the lights embedded within it casting the entire bar and its occupants in glittering golds. Live music seems to be coming from somewhere, twining and molding with the laughter, the conversations, filling the space.

But it’s the windows that really draw Nesta’s attention. Floor to ceiling windows seem to line every wall, offering a truly panoramic view of all of New York City and the Hudson. It’s a picture perfect view of the twinkling lights and night sky through the rain droplets still clinging to the panes.

“Wow,” Nesta breathes, taking it all in. “This place is definitely nicer than I was expecting.”

“If you think this is nice, you should see their venue.”

It takes a few moments for Elain’s words to register, but then Nesta is snapping her head toward Feyre. “You have a venue already? Does that mean you’ve picked a date?”

“Yes,” Feyre answers, unable to bite back her grin. “Next summer. July specifically, after Rhys’s season has ended.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit optimistic to think he’ll still be playing through June?”

“Elain!” Feyre exclaims, reaching out to smack the middle Archeron in the arm. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What?” Elain shrugs innocently. “It’s true. I mean what’s their current record again?”

“Because the Leafs do so well when they choke every year?”

“At least they make the playoffs.”

Nesta snorts softly at her sisters’ bickering. “Since when did you become a sports fan anyways, Elain?”

“I guess Lucien’s been filling her with more than just his dick.”

“Feyre!” Elain squeaks out, her cheeks flooding with a blush.

“Darling,” a deep voice practically purrs, interrupting them. “There you are. I was wondering where my beautiful fiancée got off to.”

“Rhys, this is my oldest sister, Nesta,” Feyre offers, sidling up against Rhys’s side, her fiancé’s arm settling over her shoulders with comfortable ease.

“A pleasure to meet you at last,” Rhys greets, holding up the glass in his free hand in a mock cheers. The gesture is a bit sloppy, some of the amber liquid in the glass sloshing over the rim and spilling across his fingers, and Nesta realizes there’s a haze to his violet eyes.

“It’s an open bar,” Feyre mouths, clearly reading Nesta’s expression.

“You don’t have a drink in your hand,” Rhys suddenly says, as though he’s only just realized. “We need to fix that immediately.”

Rhys turns on his heel, pushing his way through the various guests gathered to celebrate him and Feyre without a care. Nesta rolls her eyes, but Feyre has a wide, soft smile on her face as she watches him go, eyes practically sparking with fondness. It’s clear this is the man that makes her youngest sister happy, so she can’t fault him too much.

“He’s right, you know. You do need a drink still,” Feyre says, looping her arm through Nesta’s.

Feyre leads the way toward the bar built around the large centerpiece. She leans over and gets the attention of one of the bartenders with ease, ordering what she tells Nesta is the couple's signature cocktail. It seems to be some sort of margarita, a deep blue in color with edible glitter that looks almost like stars swirling through the liquid.

“So…” Feyre starts, taking a sip of her own drink.

“So…?” Nesta echoes, although she has a strong suspicion she already knows where this conversation is going. She knows that expression on her sister’s face all too well.

“Rhys’s brothers are here tonight.”

“And you need to stop being such a busybody.”

Feyre sighs, turning so her hip leans against the bar, facing Nesta fully. “Why? I’m an excellent matchmaker. Just ask Elain…” Feyre looks over her shoulder, but frowns, turning in a full circle with her eyebrows pinched low. “Wait. Where did Elain go?”

“She and Lucien probably found some dark corner to fuck like the bunnies they are,” Nesta answers dryly. It’s certainly the trend with those two, vanishing for a few hours before appearing again with slightly mussed clothes and hair, pink often clinging to the apples of Elain’s cheeks and a wide, shit eating grin plastered across Lucien’s face.

“That just proves my point! At least tell me you stalked his Instagram or something.”

“Emerie and Gwyn did.”

Her best friends had been trying to convince her to get back out there for a month now. Even with how much time has passed since everything happened, it still feels strange. Of course, that hasn’t stopped Emerie from dragging her out to bars for trivia nights and karaoke as if they’re the best places to meet someone new. It hasn’t stopped Gwyn from trying to tempt her to start a dating profile on at least one of the plethora of app options.

It hasn’t stopped either of them from hyping her up after they spent so long helping Nesta to piece together the shattered fragments of herself, of her life, back together. It’s why Nesta loves them, why she doesn’t know what she’d do without them.

But when Feyre had suggested setting Nesta up with Rhys’s adopted brother, practically raving over the phone about what a good fit the two of them would be together, it had been like blood in the water for Emerie and Gwyn. Nesta had barely hung up with her sister by the time Gwyn had tracked down his social medias and had them displayed on the television ‘for the best viewing experience.’

Cassian Valdarez.

Any other emotions aside, Nesta can admit he’s attractive, that much was clear from the photos and videos on his Instagram. With his dark, curly hair tumbling down to his shoulders, his bright hazel eyes. He had been grinning widely in most of the photos, golden skin of his cheeks stretched and crinkles popping beside his eyes. But even the one where his lips were tugged up in a lopsided, cocksure smirk had Nesta staring.

Nesta had done a lot of staring.

Staring at the photo of him in sunglasses and shirtless, lounging casually on some sort of boat, wide shoulders and swirling lines of ink on full display. The photo of him in a locker room, dressed only from the waist down, showing off the tantalizing lines of his abs, his v-lines. The Reel of him working out, chest heaving and skin glistening, biceps bulging with every lift of the weights. The reel of him stick handling with just gloves, in a tank and shorts, the muscles and veins of his forearms working with each flick of his wrist.

“Okay, and?” Feyre’s voice draws Nesta back to the present.

“And what?”

“And what did Gwyn and Emerie think?”

Nesta sighs softly, fiddling with the stem of her glass. “I mean, they said I should go for it.”

“Ha!” Feyre exclaims, loud enough to draw the attention of a few others up at the bar. “See? I’m right. A perfect match.”

“Feyre, don’t you think—”

“Feyre, darling, I keep losing you.” Rhys slips into the space behind Feyre, wrapping an arm around her waist. He dips his head enough to press his lips to her neck before raising his gaze to peer at Nesta over Feyre’s shoulder. “Sorry. Do you mind if I steal my fiancée away for a moment?”

“Not at all,” Nesta assures him, but it’s Feyre’s gaze she meets. “I’ll be fine.”

Feyre and Rhys vanish into the crowds hand and hand, and Nesta settles at the bar, sipping her drink. Her eyes flit around, but she truly doesn’t know anyone here outside of her sisters. And despite her earlier words to Feyre, all the people, all the sounds and the lights, are starting to grate against her nerves, prickling and dragging along her skin like nails. Even downing the remains of her drink doesn’t seem to help, the alcohol only weighing heavy in her gut.

Leaving her now empty glass on the bartop, Nesta spins on her heel and stalks toward one of the walls of windows. She glances around at the different tables set up, the booths that line the windows and offer the perfect seats for the views beyond. Maybe she can find a dark corner to hide in for a few hours, or maybe, if she’s lucky, Elain and Lucien will decide they want to leave early to continue whatever they’ve started in an actual bed.

“Looking for me, sweetheart?”

The deep voice has a shiver skittering up Nesta’s spine, warm breath fanning across her ear. She spins around and comes face to face with a pair of hazel eyes, a cocksure smirk she’s only seen in photo-form before. Cassian Valdarez, in the flesh. He doesn’t even bother for subtly as his gaze rakes over her, and Nesta has to swallow hard as she tracks the way he licks his lips.

“And what if I wasn’t?” Nesta dares to ask, raising her chin.

Cassian chuckles, stepping closer into her space. “I think we both know you were looking for me. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Cassian’s hand reaches up in the space between them, snagging one of the stray strands of Nesta’s hair and twisting it around his fingers. Those same fingers skate down her neck, across her collarbones, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch traces over her shoulder and down her arm before finally closing around her wrist, Nesta’s breath hitching at the warm of his hand, the size of it, and she can do nothing but follow along as he tugs her toward one of the booths by the windows.

He lets go long enough to fall back against the cushions, for Nesta to settle beside him, but then his hands are right back on her. This time, his palm slides against the skin above her knee, fingers teasing along the hem of her dress. His other arm stretches along the back of the booth, all but curling around her shoulders as he leans into her.

“You look gorgeous in this dress, you know.”

“But let me guess, it would look better on your bedroom floor?”

“You said it, not me, but I don’t disagree.”

Nesta snorts quietly, tempted to tell him that it was wrinkled when she yanked it out of her suitcase before she awkwardly changed into it in the airport bathroom. But she never gets the chance to. Cassian lifts his hand until his fingers curl around her jaw, tilting her chin up enough that he can slot their lips firmly together.

The kiss takes Nesta by surprise, but it doesn’t take her long to respond. She moves her lips against his, Cassian’s grip on her chin holding her exactly where he wants her. When his tongue slips into her mouth, she moans softly, fisting a hand into the front of his shirt to keep herself steady and to keep him close.

Cassian pulls back just enough that he can murmur, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Right now?” Nesta blurts out before she can stop herself. She’s certainly not opposed to the idea, but with tonight being the first time they’re meeting, she thought he might want to get to know her more first. What exactly did Feyre tell him about her?

“You know what they say. No time like the present.”

“I should probably tell my sister I’m leaving then.”

Cassian’s eyes seem to glint, even beneath the low light of the bar. “Is your sister here? Does she want to join?”

Nesta is sure that she must have misheard him. “What?”

“It could be fun. Two sisters, one hockey player,” Cassian says easily, even daring to wink at her. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Nesta can do nothing but gape at him, her mind reeling with this turn in conversation, but then it hits her like a ton of bricks. “You don’t know who I am.”

Cassian chuckles again, that cocksure smirk of his never slipping for a moment. “Am I supposed to know who you are?”

“Do you even know my name?” Nesta snaps, pulling further away from him.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that, sweetheart. All that really matters is you knowing my name so you can scream it tonight.”

“You didn’t even want to ask for it before you kissed me? You don’t even want to ask for it now?”

“Look. We both know what you came here for, what you puck bunnies are always looking for, and trust me, sweetheart. I am more than happy to give it,” Cassian offers, the way his eyes dance over her frame again nothing short of a leer. It stokes the anger flaring in Nesta’s veins higher, until it burns bright and hot.

“Wow,” Nesta scoffs, pushing up to her feet. “Fuck you.”

Nesta doesn’t even wait to hear whatever sputtering response he might give before she turns on her heel and stalks away from Cassian, pushing through bodies to put as much distance between them as she can. She’s never felt more stupid, can’t believe that she allowed Feyre to convince her that Cassian was some great guy, that the two of them would be some perfect match.

She can’t believe that she had started to believe her sister’s words, that that damned hope had started to bloom and put down roots in the gaps between her ribs.

Because of course. Of course, Cassian is just like every other guy, only thinking with the head between his legs without a single care for what happens once the sun rises. He’s exactly what Nesta expects from a professional athlete, cocky and sure of himself, expecting every girl to fall at his feet ready to worship him and suck his dick.

She finds Elain and Lucien in one of the other booths near the opposite side of windows. Elain has her legs draped across Lucien’s lap, giggling around the straw of her drink. Lucien seems to be smirking through whatever story he’s telling, his arm stretched across the back of the booth, fingers toying aimlessly with the soft brown curls of Elain’s hair.

“Can we go?” Nesta interrupts, looking between the two.

Elain blinks a few times, but then she starts nodding her head. “Of course. You’ve already had such a long day.”

Elain pushes up and to her feet, wobbling just slightly in her heels, but Lucien is there right behind her, his hands spanning across her waist to steady her. She smiles over her shoulder up at him before turning her attention to her purse, rooting around with a frown.

“Wait. Where are the keys?”

“I have them, my love,” Lucien answers, holding up the keys dangling from his fingers. He turns his attention to Nesta, offering her a wink. “Don’t worry. She’s not driving.”

Lucien slides his hand into Elain’s, leading all three of them through the party and back toward the elevators. Nesta keeps her head down as she follows behind her sister and brother-in-law, and she certainly doesn’t bother to look back. Besides, it’s not like anyone is watching her. She’s quite confident a certain hockey player has already found some other poor, unsuspecting girl to capture his attention.

And as they take the elevators all the way down to the parking garage and back to the car, she vows to herself that she’ll never think of Cassian Valdarez ever again.

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies

#NestaWeek2024 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #hockey cassian #top shelf love #my fic

[lunamond]

Rhaenyra‘s sons‘ illegitamcy is actually such a fascinating topic to discuss. Because on one side, yes, she should be allowed to have children with the partner of her chosing. But on the other side, the way she handles the situation, she manages to upset almost every cultural norm surrounding this issue, further alienating potential allies.

According to the social and cultural norms of their world, Rhaenyra and her sons are being valued as lesser for the circumstances of their birth. This a result of westerosi male primogeniture, which has to police woman sexuality in order to ensure that wealth and power get passed through the male family line.

Bastards born from the affairs of male lords are tolerated because they do not endanger the system of power, while male bastards especially are still marginalised (as seen with Jon) the father isn‘t subjected to any form of social scorn.

On the flip side, a noblewoman fathering a bastard is a direct threat to the system of male primogeniture. A woman will always know her biological children by the simple fact that she gave birth to them.

Men, however, don’t have this certainty. To ensure that their heirs are their own biological offspring they need complete insurence that their wives are soley sexually active with them, hence the policing of female sexuality and the obsession with female virginity.

This tactic is obviously not foolproof. A clever wife might still manage to have a secret affair and pass off another man‘s child as her husband's. This anxiety and continued incertainty is reflected in the social censure woman receive for acting as sexual beings and the severe social and legal punishment a wife who has been judged as unfaithful can face.

What makes Rhaenyra‘s position unique, however, is the fact that she is Viserys‘ heir.

So if the crown is to pass down from Viserys to Rheanyra and through her to her own heirs, why does Jace‘s legitamacy even factor into all this? Some people in the fandom make that argument: If Rheanyra inherits in her own right, why does it matter who fathers her children?

The problem with this is that even the Lords can‘t declare their bastard heir without expressed permission from the king. So, firstly Rhaenyra would need to publicly aknowledge her sons as ilegitamte for Viserys to legitamise them.

Secondly, even if inheritance in the male linegage is important, marriages in Westeros are still utilised to forge political and economical ties. Any Lord, who wants to make their bastard heir instead of the children born by his legal wife, will at best destroy any goodwill given by her family or at worst start a generations long feud.

Rhaenyra‘s position isn't as simple as a mere reversal of the genders. She can't just take the role of the Lord, she is still a woman and society will continue to treat her as such. Laenor is still bringing his own inheritance of Driftmark to ther union, separate from any claims Rhaenyra holds.

While she is lucky enough not to lose the Velaryons as her allies, it does lead to tensions surrounding the succession of Driftmark.

Another argument then is, if Laenor and Corlys aknowledge Jace, Luce and Joffery as Velaryon their blood shouldn‘t matter.

However, that is also not how westerosi society works. Because to them, blood does matter. Laenor and Corlys can claim them as Velaryon as much as they want. But as Varys puts it: „Power resides where men believe it to reside“, and as long as the westerosi people believe that blood lines are vital to the right to rule, the boys‘ right to Driftmark will continue to be questioned. Family names and blood lines are super important (and not just socially, considering how many magic blood lines exist in this world).

And to me it seems pretty clear that Corlys is aware of this fact as well, because he never publicly anounces that their blood doesn‘t matter, in fact he claims them to be Velaryon as Laenor‘s sons.

And this is ultimately the issue at heart of all the vitrol thrown at Rhaenyra. The reason she faces so much push back isn’t just because she had bastards but specifcally because she tries to pass them off as legitemate. With this she triggers the deeply ingrained social anxiety about women duping their husband and disrupting the blood line with their own kuckucks child.

It doesn‘t truely matter that her position is slightly different, because for one Westeros is deeply misogynistic. Even as a female heir she is still subject to the misogynistic standards put on women, because no matter her personal circumstances, their society is still built to cater to male power.

But even more damming is the fact that she ends up proving all these fears true, because she does take Driftmark away from a true Velaryon heir and gives it to Luce.

I think it is really fascinating (in a very concerning way), how some fans are so ready to take these societal rules as hard facts. Instead of thinking how they might reflect on inherently flawed systems of power.

As viewers we should be capable to recognize that these cultural norms are wrong. Jace, Luce and Joffery might be bastards but this doesn't devalue them as human beings. Nor does it impact their capabilites as future rulers. Nor does Rhaenyra‘s gender impact her‘s. There is nothing that make a trueborn man more worthy of ruling than a bastard or a woman.

But important to remember is also that Rhaenyra isn‘t going to make a better ruler soley on the virtue of being the firstborn or chosen by Viserys. Nor are her sons going to make better heirs because they are her children.

#hotd #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #Rhaenyra isn‘t necessarily malicious in her attempt to get driftmark #Luce inheriting helps her bolster his and Jaces claim to legitamcy #In turn further protecting Rhaenyra from any potential repercussion of her affair #her bit for driftmark is mostly self preservation #That doesn‘t change that she is still stealing it from the true bloodline #Which i actually don‘t particulary mind by it self #one feudal lord stealing land from another feudal lord isn‘t really going to change much #However she is stealing it from Baela to give to Luce #Which doesn‘t really help with her whole women can rule to schtick the show decided to give her #It ultimately proves her a hypocrite who will include women as seen on the black council #But won‘t stick her neck out for them when it indangers her own position #That is actually sth i really like about her #The way her shortsightedness gets her repeatedly into trouble #And she has to step over others to get out again #It makes her believable as a character

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 22 - Rescue

What went before

In which 11 year old Scott’s physics and construction methods are put under a little strain…

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“Helmet on, Scotty!”

Scott paused mid-clamber into the kayak and came back to take his his cycle helmet from Virgil, fastening it on before giving a big thumbs up. Virgil tried to tighten the strap under his own chin but his hands were sweaty and clumsy and he was relieved when Scotty’s long nimble fingers appeared and made it just right. Scott knocked gently on the top of the helmet just like Dad always did and they both chanted “Use your head - Use a helmet.”

As his brother climbed into the seat at the front the flying machine wobbled alarmingly. Virgil wondered if it might have been better to have launched from a flatter part of the roof but… well Scott said it had to be high and this was the highest bit. Too late now.

“Ok, can you steady her for me?”

Virgil nodded. Then squeaked a “yes” as he realised Scott was looking elsewhere. He clutched the back edge of the kayak and pushed downwards using his own weight to counter his brother’s. He glanced at the safety line wrapped around the chimney and secured with a tumble hitch knot - luckily that was a knot he did know and so he knew how to quickly release it when Scotty gave him the signal. Not yet though, he’d need to be in the boat first.

A crescendo of whining filled his ears as Scott started the lead drone and the rest of the swarm picked up the signal and followed. Sure enough the nose of the kayak lifted slightly into the air, so instead of pointing straight down the pitch of the roof it now looked off into the distance.

Maybe the math did work after all?

Scott looked back at him, eyes aflame with excitement. Virgil couldn’t help grinning back - they were going to do this! At his brother’s nod he climbed carefully into the back of the kayak, and settled into the seat, bracing his feet against the footrest and his knees against the sides.

Scott looked back and gave him a nearly-actual-wink “Ready First Officer Virgie?”

“Ready Captain Scott!”

Scott twisted back to face the front and stuck three fingers in the air, then two, one… he swooshed his hand downwards and Virgil pulled on the working end of the knot and it unravelled, smooth as anything.

The flying machine jolted forwards and downwards and Virgil’s stomach jumped into his neck but then the front wobbled back up again as the drones increased their intensity to fight the sudden pull of gravity. He could feel the part of the kayak immediately under his bottom go thud-thud-thudthudthudthud down the ridges of the tiles until it stopped halfway. The drones strained as Scott increased the power and pushed them forward as well as up and there was a tugging feeing which made Virgil wonder whether the flying machine was trying to escape from the claws of a monster.

Then there was a crack which made him jump and then a tearing noise and the machine slid forwards suddenly, but one of the wings stayed behind and everything tilted sideways. The drones were swaying wildly, all terrifying spinning blades and their pitch raised up another notch to frantic and it filled Virgil’s head with stinging fuzz. He couldn’t help squealing in fear but that was nothing compared to the howl of pain and horror from in front of him.

Without even thinking he dived forward and wrapped his arms around Scott’s waist just as the kayak flipped over and dumped Virgil on the roof tiles. His legs were trapped beneath it. His arms and neck and back and every muscle in him screamed at the sudden strain and he couldn’t work out why but just squeezed his eyes shut and held on tight because as long as they were together it would be alright.

The outer edge of the gutter was pressing into his cheek and Virgil fought against the relentless monster that was trying to pull Scott away from him.

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#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #wee!tracys #resurface fic #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #physics is overrated #duct tape is also possibly overrated