#like can he just give out jobs? i guess he can

[luveline]

oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)

adopted fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for panic attacks

You should call your brother. 

You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake. 

You read back his last message. 

I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you

You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him. 

You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right? 

He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“No. Are you busy?” 

“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?” 

“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.” 

“Are you calmed down?” 

“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.” 

“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”

“You can’t tell him.” 

“What?” 

“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?” 

“You don’t have to come.” 

“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.” 

You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind. 

Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual. 

You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.

You don’t have it in you to complain. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.” 

 Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?” 

“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.” 

“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.” 

Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?” 

Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you. 

Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.” 

“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.” 

You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally. 

The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.” 

You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur. 

“I think my boss will forgive me.” 

You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly. 

“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly. 

“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.” 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.” 

He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.” 

You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.

He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache. 

Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens. 

You shuffle backward nonchalantly. 

Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday. 

“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?” 

“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.” 

“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you. 

You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.” 

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises. 

Spencer squeezes your hand. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[bcacstuff]

Who's that Girl

So here it goes....

After yesterdays JJ article and pics from London, I showed you how I did a search on face recognition sites, one came up with a tiktok, others came up with some... more info perhaps.

Early this morning someone (who wants to remain anonymous) sent me a link in DM, an IG account, and showed me some matching things on there.

Like this bracelet

and of course her face

Same bag was seen as well

well bag and bracelet.... and face

and the matrix coat, well I found that one on her friends IG

right...

Of course, I hear you, who is she, what is her name, her IG.... I actually thought and doubted about this a long time, do I give away her name? Do I not? Well, I decided I give her name, wont link directly to her IG though. She's called Lauren Marie, though I doubt this is her real name. It is more like her.... uhm... 'professional' name...

But before I do, it's probably better to put a little warning/disclaimer here. So far, you'd say nothing wrong perhaps... but that is so far... below it's gonna be a little less nice for sure. Actually the picture drgotts posted in his stories today, and Sam reposted was quite accurate...

I'm sure my face had all of these expressions as well and perhaps some more. Also keep in mind, you're here on your free will reading my post because... well guess because you want to know all things... or if you don't want to, you can still close this post and go for a nice walk in the park or something relaxing..... Above all, don't shoot the messenger, I can tell you I needed some time to process this all as well.

Okay, meet Lauren Marie

Just some random pics from her IG which is more like an advertisement space for her..... 'services'.... Showing of luxury items and clothes on several luxurious places all over the world. No job description on her profile - ahem- No not a model or an actress. Her location on IG says Atlanta, while on TikTok it is Dubai!

On her TikTok, not many videos, but here's one

as I can only post one video, a screenshot from another

Not to mention the hashtags she uses....

My Anon did the same, well about the same perhaps as I did (no I didn't pay, but if you know how to use Google searches in a certain way... well...)

:sigh: oh Sam... 🤦‍♀️ indeed, I said that many times today 🤐

Yes, her IG and Tiktok already makes you think hmmm.... no job mentions and doing a 'normal' google search doesn't really get you far, but with the help of the little hints some face recognition apps give you, this is what you find...

Notice the tattoo (even blurred) and see above where I showed the bracelet.

One of the sites (yes I really went there 🙈

There are many more similar sites to find like these.... but i will spare you, i think nuf said....

I imagine you might have some questions, like;

Does he date this woman? Uhm... no if you know a little, you know these women are not dating material (cough cough)

So did he pay to shag her? Uhm... well, I don't know of course - ahem - but for what it is worth what my Anon above said is true, in the celeb world this unfortunately is 'common'. But ask yourself this, would he shag a paid escort and consequently walk hand in hand with her in central London, Soho to get papped? I have a hard time believing that to be honest. I mean, if he wants to, he knows how to stay under the radar. I think his escort had an easy job yesterday without many yoga or gymnastics.

So was it an intended papwalk? Yeah, I'm sure you all might have your own thoughts about that. It isn't a date, it isn't the woman you might want to be papped with, unless you hope nobody finds out who she is. But I'm sure he knows his fandom and with such a clear pic of her face, well. So I wonder, is this a PR stunt gone wrong? (given he turned of the tags on his IG). It does look like an intended papwalk to me, he's even groomed. Just look at the selfie that Saturday when he had lunch with Sarah.... or the boat pic earlier this year. Nothing like these pappics. Well, I simply leave you with your own thoughts on that, but I tend to lean towards an intended papwalk that wasn't the best idea (if his PR team came up with that, I'd sack them immediately)

So far... if you don't mind, I'm gonna do a deep clean of my search history right now!

[rafeandonlyrafe]

stress relief

words: 1.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving handjob and oral, semi dub con (mainly power dynamics), bimbo!reader, ceo!rafe

“hey y/n.” rafes secretary says as you quickly make your way past her desk with a quick wave and into your bosses office, knowing you're a few minutes late.

“hi, bossman.” you smile wide as you enter, placing his iced coffee down on the coaster that stays sat out and ready.

“y/n, thank god you're here.” rafe groans, pushing himself away from his laptop, needing a break from staring at the screen.

“im only like five minutes late.” you pout, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. “it's just because your coffee was taking a long time and-”

“no, i don't care about that.” rafe shakes his head quickly. the second he saw you in the lobby, among the line of girls waiting to interview for his assistant position, he knew you'd be chosen.

tight pink shirt showing off your cleavage and a skirt that was clearly bought just for the interview, twice the length of what rafe guessed was your average skirt length, and quickly figured out he was right when you reverted back to your mini skirts.

“oh, okay.” all the negative emotions you were feeling are gone as you shrug.

“but i do need you for something. come here.” rafe beckons you over and you move quickly to the other side of the desk.

“what is it ya need?” you ask, quirking your head to the side.

“need some stress relief.” rafe grunts, adjusting the front of his pants from where he's painfully pressing against the zipper.

“okay, like a massage?” you question. you're not sure what the normal functions of an assistant to a ceo entails, but for how much you're getting paid, you're willing to do pretty much anything.

“yes, a massage.” rafe nods enthusiastically. “exactly. and i have one place that really needs to be massaged.”

“mmkay.” you nod, figuring it's his shoulders or something, when rafe tugs at his zipper and pulls his painfully hard cock out.

“oh my god!” you squeal, covering your face quickly, palms smacking against your cheeks.

“no, no.” rafe says calmly. “this is just part of the job, okay?”

“i… are you sure?” 

“yes. now come give me a massage so i can get back to work.”

“okay…” you take a better look at his dick, hard and long with a decent size to it that makes you imagine something you definitely shouldn't about your boss. you shake the thoughts out of your head and grab your desk chair from the corner of the room and drag it towards rafe.

you sit down next to him, glancing again between his eyes and his exposed privates. rafe gives you an encouraging nod, and there's no way your boss would lie to you, right? 

your hand reaches out to grasp rafes cock, swallowing thickly to ignore the urge to wrap your lips around it as you begin to stroke him.

“is that good?” you question.

“yeah, real good, just keep going.” rafe relaxes into his chair, plush and comfortable for the long hours he spends in the office, always arriving before you and leaving long after you've called it quits for the day.

you reach your other hand forward as well, working his length with both hands. you tug your lower lip between your teeth, focusing on his pleasure as you jack him off.

rafe keeps mostly quiet, just a slight increase in the noise of his exhales, but not quite yet a sigh. you leave one hand moving up and down his length and bring the other to the head of his cock, moving in teasing swirls before swiping the pad of your thumb right over his tip.

“oh, that's good.” rafe mutters, his eyes blinking hard to stay open, wanting to remember exactly what it's like to have you leaning forward, breasts almost spilling out as your hands work on his cock.

“anything for you boss.” you smile. you do love working for rafe. being his assistant is mostly just running errands for him, but even that doesn't take up enough of your time, so you end up online shopping and picking at your nails until 5pm hits.

“you are really good at massages.” rafe smirks, and you don't catch his implication. that you're experienced and not in literal massages.

“thanks.” you feel your cheeks blush, face heating. it's hard to get a compliment out of rafe. the nicest thing you think he's ever done is when you caught him staring at your ass as you walked away.

“keep doing that.” rafe says when you cup your hand over the head of his cock, rubbing your palm against his leaky tip.

“mmkay.” you hum again, your usual response to any of rafes demands. your other hand keeps stroking over his length, squeezing just tight enough to have rafes lower jaw dropping in pleasure.

you both jump when the phone begins to ring. rafe reaches over to quickly end the call when he sees who it is.

“stop, it's tokyo.” rafe whispers as your hands continue to move. even though you keep yourself out of the business side, you know how big of a deal the companies japanese partners are.

“answer it!” you squeal, but your hands continue to move.

rafe know he can't keep them waiting so he quickly accepts the call, trying to fix his voice while you stare at him, still stroking almost absentmindedly up and down his cock.

rafe answers the question the representative on the other end has as you drop one hand down to fondle his balls, squeezing your hand into the opening in his pants to touch them.

rafe pulls the phone receiver away from his mouth as he lets out a quiet curse, eyes pleading for you to stop, but you can't make yourself, and rafe certainly won't push your hands away when he's longed to have them on him for so long.

rafes voice is shaky as he answers questions, his cock pulsing in your hand, tip turning pink as you realize what is about to happen.

you look around for something to catch his cum as his cock pulses in your hand but you come up with nothing, so you drop your head and wrap your mouth around the head of his cock just as he begins to cum, sucking gently to empty him as you obediently swallow.

your hands fall away as you look up at rafe, lips locked around his cock. you give one final suck that has him gasping before covering it up with a cough before you pull off with a pop.

you don't even need to be asked as you tuck rafe back into his pants as he finishes up his call, tossing the phone down the second he says sayonara.

“shit.” rafe groans.

“is your stress relieved now?” you ask, somehow still looking the perfect mix of innocent and sluty even though your lipgloss is smeared from rafes cock.

“yeah.” rafe nods. “and next time i want a massage with your mouth.”

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe one shot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron drabble #ceo!rafe #ceo!rafe cameron

[uzurakis]

HERE TO SEND YOU BLUELOCK HEAD CANNONS! >:D

Can you do headcannons of the guys and how they would be like if they were teaching us how to play soccer? Hope this is interesting for you ^^, if you're interested to make them thanks in advance!

TEACHING YOU SOCCER?!

featuring: michael kaiser. itoshi rin. oliver aiku. isagi yoichi. bachira meguru.

n. yees darling, i was invested to write this (it's a challenging one because i don't really play soccer myself). hope i nailed it though, thank you to u too <3

MICHAEL KAISER. "nice shot!" kaiser exclaimed, clapping you on the back. "but don't get too cocky, mein liebling."

"learned from the best, i guess," you teased, nodding toward kaiser. "after all, my boyfriend's the world's number one striker, hmm?"

kaiser's eyes widened in mock surprise, a beam spreading across his face. "well, when you put it that way," he said, puffing out his chest with pride and sliding back his golden locks. "i suppose i am pretty amazing."

"ah, but if i'm the world's number one striker," he continued, trying to tease you with words, "then that must mean you have to kneel before me, right?"

you lifted an eyebrow, unable to stop snickering at his exaggerated claim. "huh, is that so?" playing along with his joke. "i guess i'll have to remember to bow down to the soccer king himself."

the guy grinned, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. "that's more like it," now his voice filled with mock superiority, typical kaiser. "but don't worry, i'll be a generous king."

ITOSHI RIN. "fine, i'll try my best, but just so you know, i'm not really good at teaching," rin confessed, feeling apologetic because he’s not used to teaching others. and now, his girlfriend wants to learn how to play soccer.

rin took a deep breath, trying to muster up some confidence as he began to explain the basics of dribbling. "uh, alright, first, dribbling. just try to keep the ball close to your feet for now," he instructed, a bit hesitant.

"oi, dont look at me, look at the ball," he reminded you. "sorry," you chuckled, truly didn't realize you weren't paying attention. come on, just look at him. "if i’m being honest, you look really hot like this," you teased, but, it’s true though!

rin's cheeks flushed slightly at your comment, but he quickly regained his composure. "focus," he replied. though there was a hint of annoyance, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at rin's face as he continued to give you instructions, his cheeks flushed slightly from your earlier comment.

suddenly, rin's voice broke through your reverie, snapping you back to reality. "i said focus!"

OLIVER AIKU. "keep your eye on the ball and follow through with your kick," aiku instructed while you attempted to pass the ball to him.

even when you struggled or made mistakes, aiku remained patient and supportive, offering gentle guidance to help you improve. "try to angle your foot a bit more next time," he suggested, as you missed the mark with your pass. "you're doing great, sweetie. just keep practicing."

by the end of the session, you were exhausted but thankful for aiku's patience and support. he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, a proud smile on his lips.

"you're making progress, sweetie," he soothed, genuine and affectionate. "with a little more practice, you'll beat me out here."

BACHIRA MEGURU. "okaaay, let's start with some dribbling drills," he said, bachira was overjoyed since this meant he had another friend to play soccer with. "try to keep the ball under control as you move around me, kaay?"

you nodded, determined to give it your best shot. as you began to dribble the ball, you stumbled a bit, but bachira was quick to offer a push. "nice job, baby! you're getting the hang of it," he cheered, clapping his hands in support.

with each effort, you gained confidence and dribbled past bachira with greater ease. bachira congratulated you on your small wins every time you successfully escaped him. "woah, that was awesome! baby, i’m so happy!" he exclaimed, giving you a high-five.

"great effort, babes! keep it up, and you'll get it," he encouraged, his words filling you with determination. “lets keep playing together!”

ISAGI YOICHI. "hey, it's okay," isagi said gently, stepping closer to you. "here, let me show you."

he moved behind you and gently guided your legs into the correct position, his touch firm yet gentle. "see? keep your body low and your touches light," he explained, moving your legs in rhythm with the ball. "you've got this, angel.”

with isagi's guidance, you began to feel more confident, dribbling the ball with increasing control. whenever you made a mistake, your boyfriend always offered gentle correction and encouragement.

"nice try, but try to keep the ball closer to your feet," he would say, his tone encouraging. "like this," demonstrating the correct form before guiding your legs to mimic his movements.

@uzurakis

#.writing #blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #bllk x reader #bllk scenarios #bllk x you #bllk rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #bllk kaiser #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock kaiser #oliver aiku #blue lock oliver #bllk oliver #oliver aiku x reader #bachira meguru #bllk bachira #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #isagi yoichi #blue lock isagi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #blue lock michael kaiser

[wineauntie]

could i please request something of evie’s universe where evie gets upset because she doesn’t understand why quinn has to leave so much :(

DON’T LEAVE — family is family au

“No!”

Quinn took a deep breath in as Evie’s yells bounced across the apartment walls. He made the mistake of glancing backwards, catching sight of Evie trying to claw her way out of your grip, as you held her in your arms.

Quinn had another series of away games, meaning he had to leave you and Evie in Vancouver.

“Dad, don’t leave!” The four-year-old girl wailed. Evie wasn’t typically this upset when Quinn had to leave but when you’re four and you haven’t gotten much sleep the night before, when someone close to you is leaving, chaos is the only option.

Quinn knelt down, dropping his bags at his feet. "Hey, Evie," he said softly, his voice calm and steady. "Come here, Bug."

She hesitated for a moment, her little fists clenching and unclenching, before she wriggled free and rushed into Quinn's open arms. He scooped her up, holding her close, feeling her tiny body tremble with soft sobs.

"Don’t want you to go," she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder.

Quinn glanced over to you with broken eyes as he gently stroked her back.

“I know, Bug, I know. But I have to play with the team, remember? We’ve talked about this." He softly reminded her.

"But why can't you stay? With me and Mom?" Evie sniffled, her big eyes searching his for answers, the red tinge causing Quinn’s heart to crack.

"It's my job, sweetheart. Just like how you go to preschool and Mom goes to work.” Quinn explained, his thumb brushing away some of Evie’s stray tears. “But guess what? I'll be back before you know it and we'll have lots of fun when I return.”

“Like what?”

“We can go to the park, and I'll even teach you some new hockey moves. How does that sound?" He listed, his eyes trained on your little girl.

"Promise?" Evie pouted slightly, her grip on his shirt loosening just a bit.

"I promise, Bug," Quinn swore, giving her a reassuring smile as she leaned fully into him. "And while I'm gone, you can draw me lots of pictures, okay? So when I get back, you can show me all the amazing things you've made."

"Okay,” She managed a small smile through her tears. “I like drawing.”

"That's my girl." Quinn kissed her forehead and set her back down gently. "Now, be good for Mom, alright?"

"Okay." Evie nodded, wiping her eyes with the collar of her T-shirt.

Quinn stood up, grabbing his bags once more. He gave you another quick kiss, brushing your hair behind your ear.

"I'll call every day,” he whispered into your ear as you briefly wrapped your hands around his middle.

"You better," you replied with a soft smile, squeezing his hand as he pulled away.

As Quinn walked out the door, he turned back for one last wave. "See you guys soon, love you!" He called, balancing his bags.

"Love you too!" Evie called out, her voice stronger now.

The door closed, and Quinn's footsteps echoed down the hallway. You looked down at Evie, her face still streaked with tears but her eyes filled with determination.

"Come on, sweetheart," you said, taking her hand. "How about we make some signs for Dad’s upcoming games, hm?"

The night was spent with you both sitting down at the kitchen table, Evie with her crayons and you with a warm cup of tea.

As promised, Quinn called every single day and once he returned he was bombarded with hundreds of pictures Evie had drawn just for him.

#wineauntie #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fluff #nhl x reader #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #qh43 #father figure!quinn hughes #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes blurb #Quinn hughes x single mom!reader #fif au #fif au – blurbs/thoughts #family is family universe #family is family

[witchpassing]

interview_3aC

I got into piloting during the Third Generation. For the historically illiterate, that’s before the breakpoint, not after. Summer Offensive, Chelsk Offensive, ‘81, ‘82… All that shit.

When you say pilot now, people get a certain mental image. It wasn’t like that, back then; end of the day, a G3 frame is basically just another kind of tank. Hot like hell inside and full analogue control. You had to think five, six, seven seconds ahead sometimes, because that’s how long it’d take you to string together the inputs for what you were doing next.

I was good. I mean, I’m good at my job now, sure, but… you should’ve fuckin’ seen me then.

... Anyway. Long and short of it is, I got unlucky. Everyone does, sooner or later. Coterie railcannon caved in part of my cockpit, crushed my leg to dogmeat, and that was that. A few years later, they’d have amputated, plugged in a spare, and sent me back in, but this was ‘83, the tech wasn’t there yet. We were hearing about it, you know, shit on the grapevine about the brain-machine barrier, weird tests underground out in Lysk, but I don’t think any of us really believed in it.

I wanna say I knew what was coming, but I didn’t. Nobody did.

So. Cockpit breach. Fucked leg. They did a lot of work, got it to where I could walk on a good day, but it was obvious I wasn’t gonna cut it any more. Took my pension, checked out, spent eight years in the worst dyke bars I could find. Don’t really wanna talk about that part. That’s not what you’re here for, anyway.

So I’m a few years down the line, losing my mind somewhere in Sengrade, and I get a call. It’s this guy I used to know, I never really nailed down what he did, Information maybe, and he’s telling me about this program they’re spinning up over in Lysk, and sure that rings some alarm bells but what am I gonna do, say no? I don’t even need to hear the specifics, he’s trying to tell me it’s the next big jump in frame tech, it’s gonna win us the war, whatever, I’m already halfway onto a train.

The job turned out to be the Fifth Generation. Not only was the brain-machine barrier real, but they’d smashed clean through it. I said a G3 is basically a tank, right? So I was expecting an iteration on the form. Sharper, sleeker sure, but at the end of the day just a prettier-looking tank.

Well, I was dead fuckin’ wrong. Seeing something that size move that way, it’s… I don’t think I can put it into words. Go find a poet or something. Ask them what they think about Gen 5.

… Didn’t come for free, of course. The neural throughput on a machine that size will cook an unprepared brain like a fuckin’ egg. You need to be dosed to the gills on a whole cocktail of ten-syllable shit to take it for more than a few minutes, and the drugs make you weird. Horny, mostly - I’m sure you’ve heard about that - but you’re also looking at impaired impulse control, difficulty with long-term thinking, emotional disregulation, mania… Plus, there’s something in the cocktail or the link or both that is bastard habit-forming. You see them counting the hours between sorties. They adjust to the hyperstimulation, get calibrated to it, and then everything else is just too god-damn quiet.

Think maybe it’s carcinogenic, actually, but you didn’t hear that from me.

So, yeah. Weird. Command doesn’t want weird operating superweaponry. Weird doesn’t make sound tactical decisions. Which means all the shit that makes somebody a functioning soldier - the long-term decision making, the impulse control, the ability to give a fuck about the rules of engagement - it had to be outsourced.

The term they used at first was “special consultant”. Then “special consulting officer”, once we hit field testing. It wasn’t “handler” until later.

The first crop of us - I’m just gonna say handlers, I know how you’re gonna wanna spin this, I get it - were all ex-pilots. G3, mostly; Gen 4 didn’t leave a lot of material to work with. I guess the idea was we were the closest you could get to a G5 candidate’s frame of reference, but it was pretty clear within the first few months that that was bullshit. Some of us took to it, some of us washed out. A lot couldn’t take the wetwork, which I guess I can sympathise with.

Me, I handled it fine. Better than I should’ve, maybe. Being a tanker didn’t do shit for me, but my dad, he was a dog trainer, and… Yeah, well, you get the idea.

… No, no. The other kind of wetwork. You know what I mean.

…

The leg? Ha. Yeah, they offered me a prosthetic. ‘Course they did. But, call me a hypocrite, whatever you want - by that point I was six months in and I knew with total fuckin’ certainty I didn’t want the link. I spend enough of my time helping the military put their shit into peoples’ bodies, you know? I don’t want it walking home with me.

… No, I don’t understand why they keep signing up. Early days, sure, nobody knew what it did to you back then, but there’s been leaks, people’ve talked - hell, I’m talking right now. You can find our burnouts in any dive in the country, or what's fuckin' left of them. The candidates now, they know what we do to people here, and they just keep coming, and coming…

Though, you know… I think sometimes about the first time I saw a Gen 5 machine take off, that first day on the program. The way it moved against the blue-black of the sky, like it weighed nothing at all. And I almost get it.

#empty spaces #mechposting #this one's writing #microfiction

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Candy Girl 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

The silver-haired man bends over your engine. His name is Bucky as you guessed from Thor’s booming yawls for him. You sit on the front porch, next to the pizza on the bench, and chew your lip anxiously. All four men loom around your deceased vehicle, mulling grimly over the ruins. 

Karl seemed okay about the catastrophe. Emmanuel was looking to pick up some hours and there are enough orders that he didn’t need to worry about breaking even. You thanked him before you hung up, still numb and in disbelief. It’s not just a car, it’s your livelihood. More than just your job, it’s your escape from a house that’s never been much of a home. 

You try not to let the despair drown you but can’t help it. For all your optimism, this is just too much, the final straw. If you can’t drive, you can’t work, and you can’t get money, and you can’t hand over most of your check to get your parents off your back. You are effed. 

Before you can hang your head, Thor catches your eye. He waves and bounds over as if only then remembering you. He comes up the steps and leans against the porch railing across from you. 

“Gonna be alright,” he says and he crosses his arms, “Bucky says it might take a little but he can redo the whole thing.” 

“Really?” You bat your lashes, looking up at the awning, “hm, maybe I should look into being a mechanic.” 

“Not quite,” he chuckles, “it’s more a hobby but he’s gotten me out of a few vehicular binds. I trust him.” 

“Oh, uh, well... guess I don’t have much of a choice,” you shrug and reach into your pocket, “can you take this back?” You hold out the folded bills, “maybe it can help with the cost--” 

“Ah, he owes me,” Thor winks, “keep it.” 

“I can’t--” 

“I’ve been holding onto this favour for nearly a decade, what better time to use it?” He grins. “Please, little one, you keep that money. It’s well-earned.” 

You give a bittersweet smile, your cheeks pinching with the underlying anxiety. You won’t argue about it. You really do need the money. You sigh and tuck it back into your pocket. 

“I’m sorry to ruin your night,” you murmur as you look at the men near your car. Bucky and another argue as they gesture to the car, the greying blond man standing back to watch without amusement. 

“Ah, no, they’re always like that,” he glances over his shoulder, “eh, what more could I ask?” He stands and drops his arms, moving to sit on the other end of the bench. He flips up the lid of the top pizza box, “than to eat with a pretty girl.” 

Your cheeks tingle. He’s always a bit too cheesy. You scrunch your lips and shake your head. 

“Please, dig in,” he insists, “might as well. Otherwise, these old dogs with devour it all and be whining of heartburn in an hour.” 

You snort. You can’t say you’re not hungry. Driving around with the smell of chicken and pizza all night does tend to leave you ravenous and after the day you’ve had, well, you’re no stranger to comfort eating.  

“Just one slice,” you insist and reach to tear a piece off the pie. 

He hums contentedly as he takes one himself. He peers out at his buddies and rolls his eyes. The argument is turning heated though the silent third hardly seems fazed. It almost reminds you of Magni and his friends; people don’t grow up very much, do they? 

🍬

“It’s late,” Thor says as he leads you down the walk, “you can stay over and I’ll drive you home in the morning.” 

“Oh, but...” 

“Mm, I did have a beer or two, we’ll have to walk to mine,” he interjects, “apologies, little one, I didn’t foresee disaster.” 

“It’s... okay,” you assure him. “Thanks, again. I really appreciate it.” 

You turn onto the sidewalk beside him and slip your phone from your purse. Still no messages. You dim the screen with a sigh and put it away. 

“Something the matter?” Thor asks. 

“No, just... haven’t heard from Magni.” 

“Ah, I’m certain he’s home,” Thor insists, “you know how he is. Distracted with that bike he can’t seem to fix.” 

You chuckle, “yeah, I don’t think that thing’s ever gonna run again.” 

“I told him not to take it apart,” he tuts, “but does he ever listen?” 

“Oh, sorry, I...” 

“It isn’t your fault, no need for your apologies,” he says, “I only wish...” he exhales heavily, “maybe I could’ve done better. If I had, he’d treat you better too. I’m sorry you have to deal with such a spoiled brat. As selfishly as I’d like you to stick around, you could do better. Much better.” 

You mull his words in silence, “yeah, I... he’s... not... he just needs time.” 

You’re not sure you believe that. He hasn’t changed in the year you’ve been together. You’ve known him even longer than that and you can’t say he’d matured past his high school antics much.

Even his brother, Modi, outgrew all that. You always asked why he didn’t think about moving in with him, getting a bit of space. He just didn’t want to be troubled with the effort of it all. Just like most things. 

“It isn’t my place,” Thor raises his hands, “sorry. It is only... my thoughts come faster than I can stop them.” 

“Yeah... I...” you drag your feet. He’s just saying everything you’ve been denying. “I don’t know.” 

You walk along, staring ahead, overly aware of his looming presence. He rubs his neck and clears his throat, “anyhow, I was curious, fall will be here soon, were you still looking to go to school?” 

“Oh, uh... well,” you scoff, “my car... don’t have that much save yet and... I mean, you don’t have to do everything on the same schedule as everyone else, right?” 

Another point of denial. Another thing you’re running away from to look on the bright side instead. You sniff and shrug. 

“Not this year.” Probably not next year, either. You’re already a year behind, so what does it matter? 

“Ah, so now that Magni’s done his gap year, you’ll be okay?” 

“Okay?” You wonder. 

“With him going away for so long. I suppose you’ll just go up and visit, eh? We could make a road trip of it, if you like.” 

“Away?” Your heart plummets and you stop short, just at the corner of his street, “Mr. Odin—Thor? I thought he was going local.” 

He turns to you and inhales, chest rising and falling as he clamps his lips guiltily, “oof, I’ve done it again. Said too much.” 

“What-- when was he going to tell me?” You croak. Don’t cry. Don’t. That’s just pathetic. 

“I’m sorry, little one, I didn’t mean--” 

“You’re sorry? He didn’t even tell me,” you mope, “I...” 

You spin on your heel and storm ahead of him. You’re filled with hurt and anger. Whatever. If Magni doesn’t want to answer your texts, fine, he can sulk and be a child, but what was he going to do? Just pack up and leave you without a word? 

You sense Thor behind you, trailing after. He’s tall enough he could easily catch you but he’s holding back. You don’t care. He can’t stop you. 

You stomp up the front stairs of his house. The porch light shines yellow and the windows are lit up. You forget all pretense as you enter his home, leaving the door open. Magni’s metal music blasts from his bedroom. You barrel down the hall and burst through his door. 

You skid to a halt, at first, not understanding what you’ve walked in on. You lean back on your heel as the breath rushes from you and leaves you deflated. Your ears buzz and your eyes tinge. They don’t even notice you as you stand there gaping. Magni and Sheena, his ex, lay on his bed, tangled in each other, sucking each other’s faces like they’re on life support. 

You back out and whimper. You collide with Thor as he comes up behind you. He growls as he looks over you easily and witnesses your horror within. You push back against him and veer away. 

“Little one,” he calls after you as you flee, his hand slipping down your arm before he can get a hold of you. 

You’re already bawling, heaving and gasping for air. You’re so stupid. You can’t believe you put up with all Magni’s bullshit. No, you can’t believe you let yourself be so blind. Good things don’t just happen because you want them to. You should know that by now. 

#dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #thor #series #drabble #candy girl #au #marvel #avengers #mcu

[formosusiniquis]

i'll play giles, you be spike

ao3 summer reading starts on monday, your local children's librarian (me) is grabby handing any inspiration they can and running with it.

"There's a vampire in the nonfiction section." Steve says in a harsh whisper that feels louder than if he’d just shouted it from across the room at Robin like he’d wanted to in the first place.

She finishes her spinny chair rotation before saying, "And other rejected Bailey School kid titles. What game is this?"

"It's not a game!” He drops the stack of go-backs he was about to put on the shelf in a thump on the counter. His preference for taking small stacks instead of wheeling the whole cart has served him well both for his sense of dramatics and for his ability to stealth. “There is a Kiefer Sutherland Lost Boys vampire in the nonfiction stacks. Or he’s really more like the dark haired one."

"There really is something for everyone at the library." She says with a dreamy sigh, bringing her folded hands up to her face.

"Robin! Could you be serious for five seconds?"

"Could you? Why are you jumping to vampire when it's obviously just a goth patron?”

He leans further across the desk so he can whisper more aggressively in her face. “Because he was in the 800’s Robin, nobody just goes into the 800’s.”

“Plenty of people go into the 800's, that's where all of the poetry and short stories are?”

“Oh yeah, all the poetry and short stories Diana buys. You tell me the last time you remember a new poetry book hitting the collection that wasn’t for Adelle back in Kids and maybe I’ll believe you about vampire guy.”

She sputters, because he’s right, and he had to listen to her complain about how she never would have heard of Gay Poems for Red States if their digital collection on Libby weren’t so much better stocked than their physical collection. And he’s right about this. 

“You’re not right about this, but let’s pretend you are. Why don’t you go out and live your Bella Swan fantasy then, dingus.”

“Because he’s super hot and intimidating-”

“-and you want him to bite you.”

“And,” he says loud enough that Mrs. Willis over on the computer shushes him. “And you don’t get to make fun of me just because some perky blonde hasn’t shown up to help you live out your little Tinkerbelle fairy fantasy.”

“Excuse me,” a warm, raspy voice pipes up from behind Steve, he doesn’t have to turn to be certain of who it belongs to. But he does, because he gets off on that edge of self-embarrassment and also it’s his literal job.

“How can I help you?”

The bulky leather jacket the guy has on, even though it’s May and basically already the summer, must have him hot. There’s a flush staining his face that is not a point away from Steve’s vampire theory even if he knows Robin is already thinking that it is. He’s wearing a shirt that says Corroded Coffin which is where vampires live, he knows that much even if he never can successfully keep up with Dracula Daily any year he tries.

“Yeah, so I made a bet with a friend that I could find a really specific piece of information before her by going to the library instead of using the internet.” Robin sucks in a sharp breath between her teeth, the sound of Steve’s wince. “I’m playing the long odds, Google kind of sucks now, so I think I’ve got a chance.”

“Steve can help you out,” Robin volunteers, standing up on the foot rest of her wheely chair to give his shoulder a shove. “He’s the best at finding things in the dark, secluded stacks where the cameras can’t see you.”

“Um…”

“Did you already know what you were looking for?” Steve asks, just to stop what is currently happening. “If it’s just the book not being where it’s at I can help you find it. Nonfiction is a pain, and people are always trying to be helpful and put things away; but I guess Hawkins Elementary isn’t teaching decimals like they used to.”

He couldn’t be rambling any worse if he were actually Robin and not the other timeshare owner of their worst brain cell.

Hot vampire guy just watches, a little amused but his smile is closed lipped, because he’s obviously trying to hide his vampire fangs. Not that Steve has a problem with being the hapless victim at the beginning of the Buffy episode, everybody has to go sometime and  if it’s via a hotter Spike it’s better than the way he always assumed he would die (as a casualty of one of Henderson’s sketchy science experiments.)

“I have a confession,” hot vampire guy says, they’ve made it back to where Steve remembers him standing before. 

“Yeah,” he prompts, idly scanning the shelf in front of him. Hopefully projecting whatever air of openness that gets strangers to confess their darkest sins to him unprompted at nine in the morning, so that this hot stranger feels comfortable admitting that he’s a sexy creature of the night.

“I don’t actually need anything from this row, our bet was actually about whether or not you and your coworker are an item.”

Well that wasn’t at all what Steve was hoping he would say. Hot guy -- probably a human hot guy since it is five o’clock and the sun is still high in the sky -- isn’t looking at him. He's straightening up the short story collections and bringing them up neatly to the edge of the shelf, letting his fingers gently flirt with some of the spines in lingering and wanting glances.

“Yeah, we're not together, and you're not her type. Sorry to be the bearer of that bad news.”

Hot guy sputters, mouth opening wide in his haste to deny his interest and revealing moderately sharp but definitely human canines and incisors.. Unfortunate, since Steve doesn't trust anyone who isn't a little obsessed with Robin like he is.

“She seems great,” he says when he's finished spitting all over the books, “she's just not really my type either. Seems like she's more into literary fiction and I’m looking for a guy who’s into campy horror and bad sci-fi.”

“The Star Trek novelizations aren’t bad sci-fi,” he says by rote, having spent too much time with the most annoying nerds in the world who only appreciated door stops that had ‘literary merit.’ Then the rest of the sentence catches up with him. “Oh!”

Hot guy smiles, and smug isn’t something that Steve usually finds attractive but it’s working on him. “I’m Eddie,” he says, “and if you’ll give me a second to win this bet you can tell me how you feel about maybe going out with someone who only plays a vampire on paper.”

#steddie #steddie fic #my fic #modern au #librarian steve harrington #pretty sure this is a crack fic #i have no excuse my brain is tired and the summer is just starting #(the week before is always the worst it's the anticipation once it actually starts itll be fine)

[ava-the-great]

WANT ME AS I WANT YOU ☆ CP10

On a quiet night, you realize all of your sentimentality and unrequited emotion may not have gone to waste. 1.6k words -- fluff/slight miscommunication/kissing -- i'm pretty sure that's it. enjoy!!

Everything is a bit too intimate with Christian. Sure, you've been best friends since you were five and have been living together for a while to save on the outrageous rent prices, but that doesn't negate the fact that things are very... domestic, romantic even.

Not that you mind. You love Christian with every fiber of your being; love him so much that you can't stand to look at him sometimes. You can't help but detest when he has a new girlfriend and talks about her nonstop, and all you can do is pretend to listen happily. But the times in between, the moments he puts his chin on your shoulder as you read at the kitchen counter or he runs to whisper something innocuous to you before a match, have you rethinking the basis of your relationship. 'He's just friendly,' 'We've known each other for so long, he wouldn't.' And yet, you have this gut feeling that he might, just might, like you too.

Things seem to always coincide perfectly with where you will always be together. He's in London for his football career, so your job just has to recommend you to a museum in the same cloudy cityscape (their idea, not yours). He calls it fate. You smile and nod. Whatever happens, happens.

The walk from the station to your shared apartment is neither long nor short; just enough time to sort out your thoughts and save face before you open the door. As you walk up the steps and dig through your bag, looking for your keys, the front door flies open. In front of you stands Christian's most recent lady friend, Victoria.

"Oh, hey, love," she says, clearing her throat. She's definitely been crying, you think to yourself. Eyes bleary, hands nervously wringing her blonde hair.

"Hey, Vic. Is everything alright? Here, come inside with me. It's too late to be standing around like this." You motion for her to turn around, but she sighs and shakes her head.

"No, no, I've gotta run," she says looking at the sky. Sweet girl's trying not to let any more tears fall. "You're too kind, though. Hey, you take care of him — yourself, too. I'll see ya round, I guess." And with that, she gives you a quick hug, zips her jacket to her chin, and rushes down the steps. You're left incredibly confused and slightly saddened by her departure.

The rest of the evening continues as usual. A bath is drawn, and you and Christian prepare dinner together, wash dishes side by side, and then sit on the couch to talk and watch TV.

You don't like to meddle in his romantic life, but he is your best friend, and you've always been too curious for your own good, so you quickly formulate a way to have this conversation.

"Chris," you start with a breath. "It seems to me that you're avoiding telling me why you broke things off with Victoria. I've gathered the how— it was quite easy, honestly; she seemed pretty upset when she bumped into me outside. But... you know I won't judge you, right?" You say this, not looking at him, instead focusing on the scenes of the show the two of you are watching. You make sure to say it gently, to not run him off. Even seventeen years of friendship can't stave off the worst of Christian's shyness.

He smiles and lets out a breath through his nose. "I'm not avoiding anything," he says matter-of-factly. "There's just not much to it. Victoria, she's nice. Like, super nice and sweet. But, she just... wasn't for me." Something in his voice tells you he wants to say more, but you don't press the matter. He looks at you with his big brown eyes as he says the last part, and it takes everything within you not to pounce on him right then and there, lay a thousand little kisses all over his face, and hold him all night long.

You look him over, almost like you're checking for cracks in his façade. "Whatever you say, hon," you tell him wryly. "I'm gonna go to my room now. Night." He quietly says good night and gives you a little wave. You wave back.

There's a faint knock on your door. "Come in, Chris," you call out as you set your book down. He lingers in the doorway, looking torn between whether he wants to come in or not. After a moment of contemplation, he crosses the threshold, wandering to the edge of your bed. You look up at him, waiting for him to speak. His eyes rake over your frame, and you've never seen someone turn red so fast. You're wearing your nice pajamas — a silken tank top and shorts —a gift from your mother years ago. In case you have a special friend over, she said with a wink. He quickly averts his gaze, turning to look at the posters on your walls. You giggle slightly from his reaction and swing your body to face him.

"What is it, Chris?"

"May I," he asks, pointing to the space beside you.

"Be my guest." Your face is on fire, and you thank God that the moonlight streaming through the windows isn't on you. Christian slides onto the sheets and mirrors you, propping his head on his arm and tucking in his knees. He reaches over and plays with your fingers. He's nervous.

"New nail color?"

"There's no need to stall Christian." I'm right here. "But yeah, new color."

He smiles and takes a deep breath. "Well, I wanted to finish our conversation from earlier. You know, the one where I wasn't very open?"

"Hmm, let's see, the one where you wouldn't tell me the whole truth of why you let sweet Vic walk out like that?" He rolls his eyes and nods. "Yes, that's the one. But you have to promise to not flip or anything when I tell you."

You pause and mull over what he said for a minute, just wanting to make him squirm. "Yeah, alright."

Christian rolls over and stares at the ceiling, still fidgeting with your hand. "So there's this girl, right? And she's lovely. Drop-dead gorgeous, super intelligent. Hard-headed as hell, too."

Your throat tightens a little, but you nod and listen intently as he drones on and on.

"I don't even think she knows how much I think about her, you know? How I feel, how I sleep, and she's the only thing I see in my dreams."

"Christian, stop it" is what you want to say. "I can't handle this. Not tonight." You look at the hand enveloping yours. So delicate, you think. Why must he be so gentle and lovely when he hurts my feelings?

"You have no idea, do you?"

Ever so slowly, you lift your gaze and stare at him. "What are you talking about," you ask quietly. Christian smiles the hardest smile you've seen someone pull off at this hour. His energy is so blinding, in the most positive sense of the word.

"You. I'm talking about you, of course."

And just like that, your world is turned on its head. Maybe it was fate that got the two of you here; every failed relationship because neither of you could stop thinking about the other, the looks that lasted too long and lingered in your mind for days, the way he hugged you that much tighter before he had had to travel for a match.

Christian stops playing with your fingers and takes your face in his hands. You lean into his touch, and a lone tear escapes from the corner of your eye. He breathes in sharply as you chuckle.

"Me? You're really talking about little ole me?"

Your hands find themselves at his wrists. You lean back slightly and kiss his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek, and you could just vomit at the look of pure adoration on his face. For a second, you wished that everyone could be loved like this, a full love, one that transcends time and distance and confusion. But for once in your life, you decide to be selfish, to have something, someone special, and all for yourself.

"I really wanna kiss you right now," he whispers as blush creeps across his face.

"Then do it, Christian," you whisper back at him, your faces so close, your breaths and foreheads have melded into one. And Christian happily obliges.

He tastes like toothpaste and smells like aftershave, and you were so happy you thought you'd keel over and die while you kissed him. The kisses came soft and innocent at first, a sweet collision of lips and tongue before turning into a passionate whirlwind of teeth, spit, and emotion. Kisses that conveyed all the things you both wished you had said, wished you had done. The only reason the two of you finally stop is to fix the strap of your top and laugh about how intense you'd gotten. You lay back and close your eyes, content with where life has placed you. Christian looks down at you for a while, pupils blown, your hand running across your bitten lips. He smiles and descends on top of you, his head in the crook of your neck.

"Can I stay in here for the night," he mumbles.

"You could stay here forever, and I wouldn't mind. Not one bit."

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #cp10 #christian pulisic imagine #ficlet #fluff #my writing #this is lowkey trash but I had fun #challengers brainrot has seeped into my brain if y'all couldn't tell

[lastoneout]

I s2g these like...third party? clinics that doctors send you to for MRIs and x-rays and stuff like that are run by absolute clowns.

I get an order to go an ultrasound of a weird spot on my skin that's probably just torn soft tissue just to make sure nothing's going wrong and I call them and they schedule me for the 6th of June, but tell me that the order I got from the urgent care place needs to be from the clinic supervisor, not the NP who saw me, so I need to go get that fixed, and also to tell them that the NP isn't in their system so they need to fax them documents to update her info. Okay, I'm not an employee there so idk how that last bit is my problem, but whatever.

In between this call and me having time to go to the urgent care clinic I get a call telling me actually they don't have anyone who can do the ultrasound on the 6th so I need to come in on the 30th. Great, whatever. This has happened before, sometimes DAY OF with these types of places so while it's annoying, I'll live.

There's less time before my appointment now so same day I go down to the urgent care place and explain all that and the desk lady seems to have no clue what the hell I'm talking about and just gives me a copy of the order and says if the ultrasound place needs updated stuff they have to request it, which is the opposite of what I was told but whatever!

So I call the ultrasound place and explain and the guy is like "uh no you should be fine with the order" and then to be sure he checks the info and is like "oh this doctor's info is out of date" and then he has me stay on the line and give him the urgent care clinic's phone number and address and again! I am not an employee there!! Why is this my job!! But whatever, he says I'm good, so I'm good.

Today, the 29th, I get another call from the ultrasound place informing me that actually, they don't even perform this procedure in Tucson AT ALL and if I want to get it done I either have to GO TO PHOENIX or get my order sent to a different clinic that does these. I do not understand why this information was not given to me immediately the first time I called, and now I have to go down to the urgent care clinic AGAIN and beg them to update the order, and idk if they'll even be able to do that bcs this is an urgent care clinic not my PCP, but whatever guess I get to go beg! And continue to worry about the soft-tissue tear bcs it isn't going away on it's own and idk if there's something legit wrong with me or not.

I fucking HATE these little third party clinics so much they are always canceling the day before or telling me actually I need to go to another location bcs they can't do it at this one or claiming they called me to tell me the date got moved when I didn't get a phone call AT ALL. Why are they so poorly managed. Why does no one know who works at what location or what location does what procedure. Y'all are doing serious diagnostic tests to confirm if people have like cancer or some shit, I've had procedures done at them twice to make sure I don't have cancer, but they still play SO fast and loose with people's time and yank us around.

I genuinely miss the days when they would just send you to the hospital to have this stuff done, they aren't great but at least when they say they can do something they can actually do it. Jesus christ. I'm so tired.

#long post #vent #negative #cw cancer mention

[trixiegalaxy]

First Years and Jing Yuan Yuu

Ace and Jing Yuan Yuu

Jing Yuan Yuu often gives advice to Ace, but the latter doesn't listen until it comes back to bite him in his ass. He still helps Ace out in a lighthearted manner, but does tease the latter about it.

Given how Jing Yuan Yuu never brings it up, Ace guessed he was older than him, but younger than Lilia which may or may not be true. The two have yet to confirm or deny it around the first years, but do joke about it around Ace while the first year goes through the seven stages of grief whenever they do.

Jing Yuan Yuu definitely scolds Ace for slacking off from his school work, but isn't as harsh as Riddle is with him. He's more so scolding him in a chill dad type of way, but does bring up the fact that Ace needs to learn the basics before actively pursuing magic unless he wants to end overbloting due to stress and overextended himself.

Deuce and Jing Yuan Yuu

Deuce actually wants Jing Yuan Yuu to be impressed with his dedication to being honor student. It's his first time being friends with active general, so he has to make a good impression on him even though Jing Yuan Yuu just encourages him to just be himself.

Jing Yuan Yuu had a hard time not laughing when Deuce demanded the delinquents to apologize for destroying the chicks or rather the eggs they had bought for the replacement tarts. He finally told Deuce after the fact and even teased him about it much to the younger man's embarrassment.

Jing Yuan Yuu does helped Deuce study for exams with Grim after the Octavinelle though he does scolded them and Ace for getting roped into a shifty deal with Azul.

Grim and Jing Yuan Yuu

That's a chill cat dad and his bratty monster cat thing son. No, but for real, Jing Yuan Yuu does pamper Grim a bit more than the others.

Grim also really likes the reward part of his training with Jing Yuan Yuu because he gets scratches, headpats and some good food when does a good job. It actually motivates him to be a good student.

Grim is almost always on Jing Yuan Yuu's shoulder or getting carried in his arms. Jing Yuan Yuu does occasionally set him down whenever he asks for it unless they're heading to class and Grim is trying to get out of it.

I love it! I can totally see it being like that

I also see Jing Yuan using his loud general voice at the three of them during the Prologue Book when they began arguing with each other after they lost their first fight with the overblot monster.

#honkai star rail #star rail #jing yuan #Yuu! Jing Yuan #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst

[sabo-has-my-heart]

I have been forced to be in survival mode for the past 3 years, always holding up everyone around me without ever being able to take time to breathe or care for myself. It was especially bad with my mom, and I feel like I became the parent for a while as she would always tell me I was the only thing supporting her and keeping her steady. I wanted to support her but the weight was suffocating me. Now that things have settled in life I feel guilty for crying, it's so late after everything happened and because I held it together so well when everything was bad people just expect me to always be happy, and its been coached into me that I need to keep it together to take care of others. It often makes me feel like I'm not doing good enough. Could you do something with Ace seeing the reader scared to breakdown or be vulnerable because they've haven't been allowed to for so long since theyre always taking care of others or expected to be happy like me, and he tells them it's okay and offers to just sit with them while they cry?

Finally! Here it is! Alright so I didn't quite make their relationship romantic, but I don't think I really made it platonic either, so you can imagine it as you like. Also, my heart goes out to you so hard. I know exactly what survival mode is like, so I feel you. Also, I changed it up a little so Ace isn't really just sitting with them and telling them it's okay, I hope you don't mind. (If you don't like it, tell me, I'll rewrite emergency requests if needed.) Anyway! I hope you like this and THANK YOU for being so patient with me.

Warnings: GN!Reader, survival mode, emotional trauma (I guess), crying, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1320

      Walking through the halls of the Moby Dick, you took a few deep breaths, making sure to plaster a smile on your face whenever a crew member came into view. It had been such an exhausting week and to be honest, you were one minor mishap from having a breakdown. You couldn’t though; you couldn’t break down. Not here, not now. You needed to be happy, you were always happy, people only ever saw you when you were happy, you couldn’t be sad or cry, you couldn’t let people see you like that. How long had it been since someone had last seen you that vulnerable? Years, that much was certain, but just how many? 5? 10? More? Did it even matter anymore? Your job was to take care of others, that’s all that mattered. Take care of others, make sure they were okay, it didn’t matter if you had a moment to breathe, all that mattered was taking care of others. Well… you knew that wasn’t true. Logically you knew that wasn’t true, but that didn’t stop your brain from thinking it over and over again. It didn’t stop the guilt when you were curled up in the cargo hold sobbing your eyes out and it didn’t stop the vulnerability from scaring you. 

     Taking another deep breath, you tried to calm your mind, internally cringing when Ace came bounding up to you, his usual smile plastered on his face.

     “Y/n! Just who I wanted to see! I wanted to…” Ace trailed off, staring at you thoughtfully.

     “Wanted what, Ace? Did you manage to perfect that ability you’ve been working on? Come on, let’s head up to the deck so you can show me.” you offered, putting a hand on his arm, turning towards the deck.

     “No, that’s… that can wait. Where were you going?” Ace asked, concern written across his features. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something seemed… off with you, something in your eyes just looked wrong.

     “Me? Nowhere in particular, just kind of roaming around bo-” “don’t lie to me, Y/n. I know you, I know when you’re lying. What’s wrong?” Ace cut you off, giving you a stern look. You could feel your chest tightening as you held back the tears, your breath catching in your throat as you tried to swallow the sobs.

     “W-what do you mean? I-I’m fine. You should know b-by now that I don’t r-really get up-upset.” you said, forcing the words out and the tears back.

     “Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/n. I know something’s wrong, I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice. Come on, I care about you, please, talk to me.” Ace said, giving you a soft look, forcing you to look at you the moment you attempted to turn away from him, “please. I don’t want to see you upset. And not because you’re always happy, but because it means that something has been eating at you for long enough to kill your smile.” you could feel your body tremble as you frantically shook your head. It was becoming harder and harder to hold things back. 

     “N-no. I’m fine, I’m always fine, there’s nothing wrong. I just n-need to try harder, that’s all. I j-just need t-to…” you bit your lip, wrapping your arms around yourself, barely managing to hold things together. You couldn’t break down. Not here, not now; not where so many people could see you.

     Ace looked at you sadly, picking you up so you wouldn’t fall to your knees. He knew that look. He knew that look, because he’d had that look before. Trying so hard to hold it together, to keep himself from crying, to continue to be strong. Feeling his warm arms carrying you, you buried your face in his chest. You could let anyone else see you like this. Maybe if your face was against his chest, they’d just assume you were asleep in his arms. After a couple of minutes, Ace nudged his door open, closing the door behind him and sitting on the bed with you.

     “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever’s going on, it’s okay. You can talk to me. Or, if you don’t want to talk, you can just… I don’t know, cry or something. I promise.” His words were the final straw, tears starting to pour down your cheeks as you curled into a ball, crying into your knees. You barely felt his arm around you as you sobbed into your knees, unable to hold it back anymore, unable to keep yourself together. Even still, you couldn’t let him actually see you crying, couldn’t let him see your tears as you stayed tightly curled up. Hearing your sobs, seeing you shaking, that was bad enough, but you couldn’t let him see you so… helpless, so vulnerable. 

     Ace lightly pulled you closer, managing to maneuver you into his lap as he wrapped his arms around you. He knew what it was like, crying to yourself, shutting everyone and everything out, refusing to show his true emotions for fear that it somehow made him weak.

     “It’s okay, cry all you need, I’m right here. I’ll stay here with you.” Ace said softly, stroking your hair as he held you. After a minute or two, he gently pulled at your arms, trying to uncurl you from your protective ball. While he knew the need to hide from the world, he wanted you to be able to trust him, to know that it was okay to be vulnerable with him.

     “Come on, beautiful, let me actually hold you properly, I want your arms around me too.” he said, attempting to coax you out of your protective ‘shell’. Maybe if you thought it was for him, you’d be more willing to let him hold you, to let yourself cry into his shoulder, to be open and vulnerable with him. “I promise, it’s okay, you can cry in front of me, you don’t have to smile if you’re not happy.” uncurling slightly, you buried your face in his chest once more. You still wouldn’t let him see your tears, but you wouldn’t deny that having someone hold you was comforting. Having someone tell you that it was okay was comforting. 

     You weren’t entirely sure how long you sat there crying, only that when you stopped, you and Ace were both covered in salty tears, his hand running soothingly up and down your back.

     “Feel better now?” Ace asked softly, giving you a soft, sympathetic smile as you looked up at him. Your eyes were bloodshot, your cheeks red and tear stained, and your breathing was still irregular, but you couldn’t deny that you did, admittedly, feel better. 

     “Yeah, I kinda do. I… I guess I should thank you.” you said softly, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady your breathing once more.

     “It’s no problem, I get it. Sometimes you just… need to cry. But listen, if you ever need to cry again, don’t be afraid to come to me, it’ll probably make you feel a hell of a lot better if you have someone there for you.” Ace said with a small smile, wiping away the few tears that were left.

     “I… I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try.” you said softly, finally steadying your breathing.

     “Thanks. Come on, let’s go see if Thatch has any snacks hidden away, I’m… I usually get hungry after I… uh… after I get particularly emotional.” Ace said, rubbing the back of his neck. You nodded, admittedly feeling rather hungry and fatigued.

     “Yeah, a snack and a nap sound really good right now.” you said, standing up and heading towards the kitchen with Ace. You couldn’t let anybody see you cry, couldn’t let anyone see you vulnerable… well, anybody but Ace. Maybe, from time to time, it would be okay if Ace saw you cry.

#one piece #one piece ace #fire fist ace #portgas d ace #ace x reader #fire fist ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #op ace #ace portgas #gn!reader #hurt/comfort

[sports-on-sundays]

Hello! Could I request something with Marc Guiu where he is smitten by reader who is two years older than him. She also live abroad. And she doesn't stop saying no to Marc to get into a relationship but Marc is adamant and wants to prove her that they can work a relationship together.

Like reader is studying in uni, having her own problems and doesn't want to add a long-distance relationship on top of those things.

Thank you! And I want to say that I really appreciate reading whatever you write.

Giving you a lot of hugs and hoping that you get your inspiration back 🥰

ready when you are / Marc Guiu

Summary: Marc x female!reader - Marc can't get you off his mind. You wish you could get him out of your face.

Warnings: suggestion of depriving oneself of proper self care

Requested?: Yes!

Author's Note: You're literally a lifesaver; thanks so much! Also, I made this a little bit more romantic and emotional than your request suggested, but do you really expect any different from tumblr user sports-on-sundays?!

Sometimes you think that giving Marc Guiu your number was the biggest mistake of your life.

You know it sounds mean, and it's not that you don't like Marc. He's funny; you enjoy chatting with him.

The only thing you did not realise, though, when you gave him your number, was that the boy is smitten by you.

He's stuck on you.

You just thought it'd be kind of cool. You know, you have the opportunity to stay in touch with Marc Guiu. Not world class or anything, but you're a Barcelona girl. It was just a cool idea.

Now, just as you're slipping under your quilt to shut your eyes for some sleep, nearly halfway across from Marc Guiu, in the United States of America (it was a treat to spend a lot of time here), you suddenly, to your dismay, hear your phone vibrating on the end table.

You roll over to snatch it up in annoyance, and sigh even louder when you see it's Marc trying to face time you.

You blow air out through your lips before sitting up and answering, immediately saying, "Is it not, like, 4:00 or 5:00 in the morning there?"

"It's 6:00 A.M.!" the guy beams, his brown eyes sparkling. "You said you didn't want me calling at 9:00 A.M. anymore, since that's like 3:00 A.M. for you, and I'm waking you up in the middle of the night. So I woke up early so I could call you now!"

"Marc," you groan. "It's 12:00 A.M. here! I was just about to go to sleep! Let me make this clear- calling me in the morning for you is off-limits."

His smile very swiftly turns upside, and he almost looks hurt, which immediately fills you with a considerable amount of guilt. "Sorry," he murmurs. "I just wanted to talk to you."

You sigh. Yeah, because you're mad in love with me, you can't help thinking to yourself. You decide not to say it, and inside respond, "I know. It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Why were you going to bed at 12:00 A.M. anyway? You should be getting more sleep than that... did you not say once you have to wake up at 5:00 A.M....?"

"Oh, Marc," you click your tongue. "With all I've got going on, the last thing I'm worried about is getting enough sleep. I'm holding up two jobs, and having to study, and everyday I give myself at least some time for exploring and travel."

"How do you do all it?" he suddenly asks.

You shrug. "I like living like this. But health isn't my concern like it is yours. We have different priorities. And yours shouldn't be ridding yourself of sleep by waking up early to talk to me, hm?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure..."

"Now, was there something you want to tell me?"

Through the screen, across the world, you can still see the tenderness in his eyes for you. His soft spot for you that's getting just a tad bit dangerous. "No, not really... Just wanted to... hear your voice, I guess."

"Oh... Oh."

"Yeah," he clears his throat. "I guess I just miss you..."

Despite everything, and the fact that you were determined to keep this to yourself, seeing Marc so open now about this still pushes the words out of your mouth as you say, "Well, Marc... My contract ends soon, which means I'll probably be coming home back to Barcelona for my next semester... After that, though, I've got plans for France... But at least that's closer, right? And you've got me for one semester."

You don't like how 'you've got me' sounds. And you know you shouldn't have said it.

Can't give this boy any more false hope than what he already has.

"Oh!" his eyes brighten, and his mouth tilts up once again. "Seriously! I'm so excited to see you again, then!"

You chuckle. "Y- Yeah, me too. Now, can I go to bed and get a few hours of sleep in?"

"Haha! Whoa, Marc, hold your horses, mate!" you laugh as he practically jumps into your arms for a hug, causing you to drop all your bags on the airport floor. "Just because I'm older than you doesn't mean you're not bigger and stronger!"

He grins, pulling away, and immediately scoops up all your bags for you. "I've already got a cab. Come on. I'll bring you to your flat and help you unpack!"

There's not much you can do to deter the Spanish boy, and once you're in your flat, all unpacked, you two plop on the couch. You sigh in relief as you say, "Feels good to be home!"

"Feels good to have you home, Y/n," Marc pipes in.

Even though you really don't want him to think you're interested, some of the little things he says never fail to make you smile, and feel warm inside.

Whether you want it or not, being loved feels good.

But then he slips his hand in yours. "So, the United States. That was the longest you've been away. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"

"Probably not as much," you tease truthfully, "and we did face time pretty much every single moment you could. But, yeah, I missed seeing you in 3D."

He grins, and reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your hair, asking softer, "So... are you ready to date me yet?"

You lick your lips. You knew this would come, sooner rather than later. You sigh. "Marc, you know my answer." You begin to slip your hand away.

He grabs it back, and brings it to his chest. Now he's looking at you earnestly. "Please, Y/n..." His happy demeanor has quite suddenly turned almost desperate. "I know we can make this work..."

"Marc, I'm not going to be in a long-distance relationship like that."

He frowns, squeezing your hand tighter, looking you right in your eyes. "We already have a long-distance friendship. Why not a little more than that?"

"That requires more emotional involvement. My heart just can't take that. I can't be getting into relationships like that at this point in my life. Maybe someday, I can settle down and find someone. But you know I'm born to run, Marc..."

He looks down. Wraps your hand in both of his and rests it in his lap. "But we'll both be better off. I can make this work. Just give me a chance. Let me prove it."

"You're eighteen. You should be focused on your own things, like football, and your career, just like I'm focused on my own things, like travelling and studying for college. You shouldn't let yourself care so much about me, Marc," you speak gently, almost soothingly. "Please, please don't find your happiness in me. I'll fail you. You mustn't find perfection in imperfect people."

"But you're perfectly imperfect, just like me. Broken, like me, and I love you for these things..." he looks up again.

"Oh, Marc," you barely whisper, staring into those eyes. "Please don't ever say you love me. It's not good for either of us."

"But I do-"

"Marc," you say, sterner. "With everything else I have on my plate, and with everything else I'm chasing after, I can't give myself to you like that. Not right now. We're both so young, you even younger than me. I'd rather see you as a younger brother than anything else-"

"But Y/n-"

"Let's just be friends, okay?"

He sighs deeply. He doesn't nod, because he doesn't want it. But instead he leans in, resting his head against your shoulder, and wraps his arms around your body.

You sigh as his warmth is spread to you.

"Well, I'll enjoy you while you're here, and call often you when you're off to France. And you could run away and go wherever in the world you want, but please. Please always come back to Barcelona. Please always come back to me. Because I'll always be waiting here for you. And I'll be ready whenever you are. Ready for you whenever you're ready for me."

#sports-on-sundays #fcb #fc barcelona #barcelona fc #barcelona #fc barca #fc barça #barca #barça #barcelona imagine #barcelona spain #spain #france #united states of america #barcelona imagines #barcelona one shot #barcelona one shots #barcelona oneshot #barcelona oneshots #barcelona blurb #barcelona blurbs #barcelona fic #barcelona fics #barcelona fan fic #barcelona fan fics #barcelona fanfic #barcelona fanfics #barcelona fan fiction #barcelona fanfiction #marc guiu

[oh-no-another-idea]

find the vibe tag XI

Big thank you to @indecentpause for the ancient tag to look for “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to say that.” Here's a bit of Invisible Girl shenanigans 😁

“I’d like to offer you a job,” Antonio said very quickly. “It’s all perfectly ethical, even though I get the sense you wouldn’t care. As one of my assistants, you would travel with me to all my meetings and conferences, and if you happened to overhear the mood in the room or any other tidbits that might be useful, well, that’s on them for speaking carelessly while you’re nearby.” Velia felt a slow smile steal over her face without her permission. “I also need a secretary, but I thought you’d be awful at that job, but rest assured when I find the right person, they will be sworn to secrecy and told all about you.” “One of the others could do it.” Antonio sighed laboriously, and pretended to scribble something down for the driver’s sake. “Believe it or not, they all already turned me down. Something about taking initiative for themselves, or liking their jobs. Utter rubbish. But we’ll wear them down eventually, you and I.” Above their heads, birds sang. The carriage rocked them gently. “I accept,” Velia said.   “Oh splendid,” Antonio sang, as though he’d been waiting for just that. “I’m going to start you on wages today, and you get a room in my father’s house all to you, if you want—second floor, I think, which is optimal for sneaking out of.”

I'll pass it on to @eccaiia @blind-the-winds @moonscribbler @sleepyowlwrites @sarandipitywrites @lyssentome @kaiusvnoir @toribookworm22 and anyone else who'd like to join and look for the vibe "Oh HELL no." 😉🥂

#tag games #find the vibe tag #wip: invisible girl #working on stuff like this right now. how to make antonio act like a normal guy when he very much isn't #like can he just give out jobs? i guess he can #🤦‍♂️ my son is all grown up and completely out of hand. whose fault is this??? (mine)

[aardvaark]

i was thinking about how i wished leverage had a birthday episode for some of the characters cause that would be sweet, but then i realised something and basically…. okay here’s my thoughts in quotes form, just for fun

hardison: so when’s your birthday? i could plan something for us and the team to do and-

parker: i dont know

hardison: you don’t know… your own birthday?

parker: no, how would i know? pshh, cmon, you’re telling me you remember EXACTLY when you were born? watch this - hey, eliot, do you know your exact birth date?

eliot, innocently passing by, who was canonically anonymously dropped off at a hospital as an infant: no, how would i know?

parker: that’s what i said!

hardison: excuse me?? what is going on right now

sophie, walking into the apartment: whats wrong?

hardison: parker and eliot- well, okay, when’s your birthday? i just have to prove something.

sophie: …….july 12th

hardison: why did you pause? wait, is that your birthday or sophie devereaux’s birthday?

sophie: ………… (guilty silence)

parker: see, no one knows their real birthday! haha you’re so weird sometimes, hardison

hardison:

hardison: what the fuck guys

#leverageposting #wren speaks #leverage #parker leverage #alec hardison #nate knows his birthday i guess so i didn’t include him. if he was watching the whole time he would probably say ‘idk’ to mess w hardison #they’re having this convo in nate’s apartment but it’s like 3am & he’s asleep & they’ve all broken in to hang out #parker doesn’t know either bc of her ridiculously neglectful foster parents or bc she’s parker & her priorities are simply different to most #people. her birthday is irrelevant to thievery. and sadly probably not related to fun happy memories anyway. #sophie obviously is a good enough grifter to answer confidently but she feels a little bad abt lying to her family by now #meanwhile hardison had a normal foster nana who would have known his bday. most kids aren’t safe-surrendered like eliot so assumably #hardison would have a known bday. and he likes birthdays! #and he wants to throw parker a little party even if it’s a very unconventional parker bday that involves rappelling & jumping off buildings #but he is once again thwarted by the leverage team members having the strangest possible lives #he IS gonna give them each birthday parties tho. even if he has to make up some dates & stuff #sophie’s can be the fake date she gives if that’s what she rlly wants. nate’s real birthday is on file somewhere even if he’s being annoying #rn so hardison just has to do some basic hacking. eliot would have an approximate bday such as the day he was surrendered that his parents #would have celebrated throughout childhood. and parker’s would be april 1st bc that’s alice whites bday (and YOURE ALICE!!!) #as in it’s canonically in the online info abt alice white shown in the juror no.6 job & obvs that’s april fools so it’s funny :) #and hardison has a NORMAL bday unlike SOME ppl and yes he DOES expect presents you heathens!!

[hitsuyou-fukaketsu]

oohhh royal knight in training subaru and prince hokke oohhghh

#they have been in my mind can you guess #but like listen #mr akehoshi died in a war led by seiya(king) 10 years ago and now subaru is following the steps of his father #so seiya has a soft spot for him although subaru hates the monarchy for that and onlydoes that bc its the best high income job he can do to #support his mother #also hokke just despises his monarchy duties and one day he is going out of the castle by himself and subaru is like what is this idiot doin #and subaru is like 'Hey you dumbass! where are you going on your own?' and hokke is like 'dont you know who i am? learn some manners before #speaking to me!!' and subaru is like 'of course i know who you are! you are stealing my horse where the hell are you going you clown of a #prince!!!!!! #and hokke ignores him but he actually doesnt know what he is doing so subaru just runs behind him #and after a while hokke gives up and explains that he doesn't want to be a prince so he decided to escape and subaru is like ?? this guy?? #and concludes it must be a rebellious phase because he was borned with a silver spoon and just wants to create problems for himself #so he tells him that the life outside the palace is horrible and hokke should appreaciate his life more. everyone would want to be the princ #hokke thinks for a moment and concludes that no. subaru is wrong. and subaru is starting to get annoyed so he sends hokke to the palace #(but in their argument he acutally stole some jewelry of hokke so he sells those to help shinonon the poor guy selling milk and newspaper #and the next day hokke goes to him like 'you stole from me give them back' and subaru is like 'i thought you wouldnt notice. you dont need #them anyway' #and they start arguing again. #chiaki (subaru's knight trainer) sees them and later says to subaru that they seem close #and subaru is like 'no we dont!! he is a selfish jerk who only thinks of himself!' and chiaki thinks he is the only person subaru has gotten #close to #bc hokke doesn't like interacting with guards or maids or anything that has to do with the castle either #so chiaki is like me thinks #so they keep doing sbhk shenanigans and they mutually warm up to each other #at one point hokke brings jewels to subaru personally so he can sell them in the city and sometimes subaru bri #subaru brings hokke to the city in some of their getaways. normal citicens dont know he is the prince just some noble bc of his clothes and #good manners. which subaru doesnt have. #at some point hokke is impressed by subaru's knowledge and he confesses that his father used to steal books from the royal library and then #thought him and his mother and it makes hokke think that they are quite similar #mr hidaka seiya is pretty glad hokke is getting along with subaru since he appreciated mr akehoshi a lot