#okay to be fair the 'ignore her' thing is about avoiding a very real and actual danger it's not exactly just a personal preference

[musical-chick-13]

Maomao is the character of all time for real. People fawn over beauty and she just goes "Wtf is wrong with you all." She purposely makes herself more physically unappealing so that people will ignore her. People insult her and she literally just does not care. She does experiments on herself for fun. She can and will threaten you if you fuck up. She's attracted to poison.

#okay to be fair the 'ignore her' thing is about avoiding a very real and actual danger it's not exactly just a personal preference #I WOULD DIE FOR HER #mc13 watches the apothecary diaries

[velvetcloxds]

too shy to come off anon but how about dbf hotch comforting reader after a case made national news so they ended up seeing how dangerous his job can really get?? love ur writing :)

SWEET NOTHING | A.H.

word count: 0.9k

warnings: age gap, mentions of danger, aaron is reader's neighbour, dbf aaron

You hadn't said a single word since you'd sat down for dinner and Hotch was notably concerned. It had become a sort of unspoken tradition for him and Jack to join your family for dinner the night after Hotch closed a case and this tradition though not at all in your honour was one of the only good things about being a university student still living with your parents. You and he hadn't quite found your footing in terms of managing your secret relationship yet, you didn't always find the right time or place to meet up without suspicion which meant that moments like these where the time and place were already set up, it was like a gold rush for you. You'd spend the whole night talking his ear off, absolutely drowning in nerves every time you'd catch one of his stolen glances while your dad was talking about some boring business deal that he'd settled.

"That last case of yours was a real tough one," your dad noted before a bite of pasta, your mom humming in agreement as she snuck another roll into Jack's plate, the little guy not all that fond of her broccoli pasta surprise, especially when he found out the surprise was cauliflower. "We were watching the news just before you came," you cringed at that, you attempted to hide it by taking a sip from your wine glass, but you weren't all that smooth, trying just a little too hard to avoid his gaze when he looked over at you.

You tried your hardest to ignore the rest of the conversation, helping Jack put butter on his roll and talking softly about what he learned at school that week, completely ignoring the other side of the table. It was a good thing because if you were paying attention, you'd have heard Hotch changing the subject in favour of staring at you and when you finally looked up from your plate you were surprised to find yourself alone at the table with him.

"Honey," you stood up, nearly knocking your chair over from the speed of the gesture, gathering the remaining plates from the table and walking with the pile to the kitchen. You knew he'd follow, knew he'd be concerned with your silence, your odd behaviour, and if you were any better at hiding your feelings, you'd have tried to act normal, act unbothered by the very detailed, very gruesome clips you'd seen of your partner, your person, all bloodied and bruised explaining what terrible person he'd just come face to face with.  You'd always known that what Aaron does is extremely dangerous you'd have to be foolish to act like it wasn't, but seeing him like that, hearing what he had to go through it was more overwhelming than you thought it would be. Having a vague idea and knowing explicit details were very different, for your head and for your heart.

The door closed behind you, your hands frozen in place as they hovered under the cold water running from the tap, heating up slightly every second, his footsteps were piercing in the otherwise silent room and when he stilled behind you there was a suffocated breathe that filtered into the air, your lips retracting into a tight pout shortly after.

“Honey,” the repetition of the simple word made your heart clench into a ball inside your chest, and you realized that though you had no true control of the urge to give him the silent treatment, it was also not entirely fair, so you leaned back, hitting his chest, sighing softly and allowing his arms to circle your waist in an instant. “I’m okay,” it was a simple statement, nothing more than you needed so you nodded, drying your hands before folding them over his.

“You sure?” he hummed lightly, kissing the back of your head and you felt his grip tighten around you, it was all a little backward really for him to be comforting you when he was the one you were worried about. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” two squeezes, one for you and one for him and third just because he felt the moment needed it. There was more to be said, a bunch of questions still fuzzy in your head, a bunch of explanations still ready in his but `it wasn’t the time, you didn’t need some big declaration, you wanted to know he was okay, and he needed to know you believed it. “I should go check in with your dad.”

“Bear, can we just…” your fingers dug into his skin before he could even think of stepping back, letting your head lull back onto his shoulder, satisfied when he kissed your forehead in the new position. “Can we just have a few more minutes, just need a few more seconds in your arms.”

“I think we’re safe for a little longer,” he concluded, and you melted, his arms were like a safety net, and you were happily cocooned in his hold, eyes closed and swaying lightly. He wished he could allow himself to sink into the moment with you instead of staying hyper-aware of every sound and movement in the rest of the house, count the seconds to consider how much time it was taking in the kitchen when he was expected back in the living room but he did allow himself a guilty fourth squeeze, eyes full of love stealing a longing glance to fill every fleeting second with you.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x yn #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #right where queue left me #monique's writing events

[danggirlronpa]

Since polyships are on the table... 🍑 Mahiru/Hiyoko/Ibuki or 🍑 Mahiru/Sato/Hiyoko (I have a feeling this one will go horribly, as I tend to headcanon Hiyoko as being very jealous of Mahiru's affection towards Sato; both Sato and Hiyoko are definitely in love with Mahiru meanwhile can't stand each other. I imagine Sato also dislikes Hiyoko because she reminds her of Natsumi - however fair or unfair that comparison is, I definitely feel like Sato has a hatred of bullies. Meanwhile I think Hiyoko would have a soft spot for Ibuki; she would at first try very hard to push her away and prod at insecurities, but once that failed I could see them getting close. Plus, Hiyoko is attracted to kindness - something that she sees in both Hajime (platonically) and Mahiru, which makes her have a soft spot for them - and underneath her jokey-ness, Ibuki is very kind. And I don't even have to explain why Mahiru/Hiyoko works in this equation, lmao - Ibuki/Mahiru is probably the relationship between the three I've put the least thought in, but, I feel like they'd be amicable.)

Also, my Natsumi rarepairs.... 🍑 Chiaki/Natsumi and 🍑 Mikan/Natsumi... I know they don't interact but Chiaki and Natsumi are very much foils for each other & how they affect Hajime, so I think its a damn shame they never interact... plus Mikan/Natsumi would be so tragic.... finding your girlfriend dead... realizing your friend, Sato, killed her..... selling Sato out to your dead girlfriends brother.... Mahiru having such a favorable view of Sato and negative view of Natsumi & Mikan having the reverse.... the biased narration of Mikan (and Mahiru too).... the thought of my girlfriend was nice to me, a real angel, so she COULDN'T have been bullying you.... and then a year later, meeting a demon in the form of Junko Enoshima, who reminds you so much of your dead girlfriend, who tells you that Hope's Peak is corrupt, didn't look into her death to avoid a scandal with the reserve course so the funding to their pet project doesn't get shut down... and you're angry, you're so angry, that was your girlfriend and they don't even care.... why not let the devil tempt you into revenge? Don't they deserve it? I am so crazy about Natsumi/Mikan and NO ONE is tapping into their potential, the only fics on it on ao3 are my own.... I adore them 😭

I've been holding onto this ask because part of me doesn't even want to touch on a response so it can just stand alone as a testament to the ships. I LOVE seeing people talk about their rarepairs, absolutely fuck yes. Please don't think I'm ignoring you when I'm brief or my thoughts differ from yours because this RULES.

Mahiru/Hiyoko/Ibuki: Neat! Every dynamic in here is fucking stellar. I definitely also think this is a ship that centers on Hiyoko, which in and of itself is sort of fun. Danganronpa fans HATE her. But women LOVE her 😏

Mahiru/Hiyoko/Sato: Basically Canon. I'm biased about this because Mahiru/Sato is my real True SDR2 OTP and I consider both it and Mahiyoko to be Basically Canon on their own. But ALL TOGETHER. BOTH IN LOVE WITH MAHIRU. You know that tumblr post that's like "superhero and supervillain but theyre both friends with the same civilian so when their buddy invites them all out together as civilians they just have to silently seethe at each other across the table"? Yeah

Chiaki/Natsumi: Fine. This. And I'm going to be exposing a lot of things about myself as a person here so everyone just be cool. This is a kismesistude. And I will leave it at that.

Mikan/Natsumi: HELL YEAH. This might only appeal to a niche audience but hear me out, okay. You know yakuza mangas that are like. Oh No I Am A Sad Abused Young Woman/Twink Who Has Been Sold To/Become The Caretaker Of A Child In/Married Into/Reincarnated Into/Otherwise Somehow Become Involved In The Yakuza! im so frightened! what does this mean yakuza want with me!! a heart of gold?! could it be??? oh but because of my abuse i feel like i dont deserve this but through this yakuzas unrelenting instant love for me and very violent vengeance upon my abusers and also some gang drama to force us into compromising situations will i be forced to learn self esteem through the power of love?? THATS WHAT I WANT FROM THEM. THATS THE AU IVE WRITTEN IN MY HEAD. AND ALSO WAY OF THE HOUSE HUSBAND AU

#asks #anon #mod hangout #mod ships #talk to the mod #chiasumi #natsumiki #mahiyobuki #mahisatoyoko

[fluffypotatey]

watching Leverage: ep 8

I GOT ME GRAPE FANTA 😎 WE SPLURGING TONIGHT 😚

Pre-game show:

ok so i think i've got it figured out on who i'd be besties with from this show this is of course unrelated to the previous episode. also, let me know which of the crew i'd be besties with! i only know these guys for 7 episodes and y'all have all the 5 seasons, so 1st impressions and after some development?

nathan wouldn't trust me (obvi as i am young and inexperienced with heisting but i am a good strategist! so that should count for something) but eventually, he'd adopt me as one of his heist children

sophie would adopt me on the spot i just know it

alec and i would be besties. maybe i would feel a little intimidated by his hacking skills at first, but he'd be very welcoming and i would laugh at his jokes so yeah

i would be way too intimidated to be near eliot alone just because i feel like he has that aura of "don't talk to me"

unfortunately i don't think parker and i would start off well because i tend to be too polite and not say what i mean and she's a very blunt person

but anyway

it is really weird how they've listed the episodes because the last one being ep7 is super confusing for the continuity. if you watched the horse job before the wedding job like me, it makes no sense for alec to not know who eliot's "girl" was. however, if the wedding job was set before the horse job THAT MAKES SENSE!

SO WHY ARE THE EPISODES LISTED OUT OF ORDER???? WHY DID YOU SCREW WITH THE CONTINUITY LIKE THAT????

also it makes so much more sense that an ep3 nathan would be a little perturbed by heisting the mob and feel a little bitter about marriages because we're just getting to know him!!! it makes no sense for him to be bitter like that at ep7. not after the fucking bank shot job where we see him so soft for sophie???? ugh

this episode, we are watching *checks notes* The Mile High Job, spoilers for the episode will be followed under the cut (obvi 😗)

My Mile High Reaction (not sponsored by grape fanta)

oh dear, this ep is gonna be heavy

they blamed a child's death on her pre-existing conditions???? conditions unrelated to the side effects their fertilizers gives???? oh boy, i am getting pissed and they aren't even real but oh man i wanna hit something

oh they hiding evidence??? that would be important to the case??? corporation sir that's illegale. no that's literally illegal. anything you hold that's important to the case the other side needs to have as well. that's literally *breathes* i will...persevere :)

sophie: not speaking english the security guards: speaking english trying to understand her

to be fair! i am also that dumb

oh so both of them are just gonna hop away from the desk, okay then, keep it together my god lmao

ok i know they're trying to steal the information that the prosecuting team needs (the couple is prosecuting right? i'm assuming bc they have the burden of proof) but i'm worried bc there's a "doctrine of the poisoned apple" that basically means that any info gathered illegally cannot be used in court no matter how integral it is

i am curious to see if they bring up this little doctrine or ignore it (i'd be find with either tbh)

????

what happened with alec???? why does nathan not want them speaking about him???

shit this is a continuity thing huh

ALEC THANK GOODNESS

baby, did you...did you put a whole ass hot pocket in the microwave with no plate??? not even a paper towel??? and you grabbed it??? with your bare hands, dear lord

get a paper towel. sir, i'm embarrassed

*sighs* this was originally episode 4 wasn't it? alec and the crew not being as smooth, alec missing that they had a mission that day and fumbling to help them,

ok so i'm a little annoyed about how the episodes are listed and how janky they are continuity -wise

oh no the crew is about to be caught and this could have been avoided if the guy at the chair was more present in meeting! she says with a straight face. how ever will they get out of this one

yes, mister corporate evil man sir, please tell us everything about how you plan to tank the court case on a phone call where you're not even trying to keep quiet

i love you parker. how did she evade getting caught and exit the room before nathan and eliot? no one knows! but we all fucking love her for it!

"ok i got two for first class" nathan, sweetheart, he didn't even hesitate "ok sophie and i'll take those" yeah, yeah, ok sir, okay

ALEC BRO WITH A STRAIGHT FACE awww newlyweds

eliot....eliot, my dude, where, how???? WHEN? air marshal???? WHOMST???? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT THE FU

omfg alec i love your customer service voice. perfection lmao

awwww she loves fidget so much (that's an adorable name btw the kitty's so cute i wanna nuzzle!)

lmao eliot that flip was so extra, you just needed to stumble my dude

SOPHIE

NATHAN'S SO FLUSTERED HELP

"cuffs are his, wips mind" bro you should be so glad i wasn't drinking right bc i would have choked fr

ELIOT DEARY YOU SOUND LIKE A TEENAGER WHO GOT DRAGGED ALONG THIS TRIP "idiot," he says like sophie's his step mom and he's so embarrassed that he has now learned more info about his dad's sex life than he needed to

alec <3 i love him so much

parker i love you but you almost got punched (not your fault, you didn't know the lady was touchy about the promotion comment)

OH THEY FAKE DATING!! FAKE MARRIAGE

oooooooh nathan you in deep shit

oh man my brother would hate parker as a flight attendant

the pilot does not sound that clear on the intercom, leverage! really you hear more static than the pilot and it's way too loud and everyone just nods like they understood

mood eliot

madam, if parker said there's a system, then there's a system! do not mess with it!!! ma'am it ain't that hard to wait. if you really feel queasy, the bathroom is right behind you

ALEC MY BOY

yeah ok he could speak spanish to me all day. he sounds like a man who's so happy about his job! alec, you making me fall for your persona

lmao for a second i though the guard was going to look at the camera

"hey is there room in [the elevator that alec is making sure to take up every bit of space]" alec: idk bro you tell me

i know i say this so much but....alec i love you

"i bet you think we all look alike" I CAN'T BREATHE HELP I CAN'T I LOVE HIM

NOT THE SENSITIVITY SEMINARS

I CAN'T BREATHE

wait what are the playing on the plane? there's a movie playing. it looks western. eliot what are you watching????

yes eliot, let's just rummage through all the carry on bags. that's not suspicious

i mean.....parker's got a point. dying on a plane is pretty low. more people die in car crashes, but people feel more confident driving than flying

can't tell if that help the lady or not, but parker's delivery was hilarious either way

hands off sir that's a married woman! a fake married woman but still!

oop trouble in paradise

alec <3333333 my tall WoW geek, he's found his people

back the FUCK up nathan 🔪 leave him alone!

his little smile when he said "the meeting's starting!"

oh that better be fake alec!

oh thank goodness

lmao of course the accountant is the one who wanted ginger ale

nathan, sweetie, sweetheart, deary, pumpkin, gumdrop......you are so bad at pretending to be mad at sophie you whipped son of a bitch

OH????? THE ASSET IS THE ACCOUNTANT!!!! HAHAHAHA YOU HAVE TO SAVE HER NOW PARKER LMAO

so sorry but i was distracted (by eliot's voice) for a little bit but we good now

aww parker got her ginger ale to soothe her anxiety (didn't help but it's the thought that counts)

poor steve (derogatory)

i love cheryl. i'd die for her

oh shit he got a knife!

FUCK HIM UP ELIOT

you're gonna leave the knife in there??? with the unconscious hitman??? what if he wakes up what then?

oof you're gonna go that route? after 9/11??? ok then

good, good eliot got the knife

honestly i feel bad for that flight attendant. this must be one her worst days on the job

oh they got a countdown!

oh dear they cutting close on time

just curious: was there a content warning that was placed just before this episode aired? i know this show came out in 2008 but 9/11 was still fresh in people's minds. so to air an episode where a plane gets hijacked to crash, i feel like there was a warning placed for viewer discretion.

NOOOOO ALEC BABY HE SOUNDS SO DEFEATED :( HE THINKS HE'S GONNA LOSE THEM T^T HIS NEW FAMILY NOBODY TOUCH ME

HOW HIS VOICE CRACKS WHEN HE REALIZES HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO AND HE IS HELPLESS TO THEM NO

ohhhhh stressedstressedstressedstressedstressedstressedstress

AH OKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOOOK

THEY GONNA LAND ON THE HIGHWAY

THEY DID IT

ok but is alec still in the boss's office? or is he back a HQ? how had no one found him? oh dear wait

ok nvm we got comedy all good

fuck off steve

aww we got soft sophie/nathan

haha she still won. love her

General thoughts

ok i have no clue why the episodes are mixed up like that because this episode feels like an ep4. it's just after the wedding job and the team isn't as solid yet. tbh this could even work before the wedding job but i wanna say no bc nathan was too up his ass in that one.

alec, my boy, you shined beautifully in this. i don't care if he wasn't the best team player! this was his episode and i loved it. i love that we got to see him geek out about video games and even about coding stuff that only he understands. i like how he is such a great people person! alec just met cheryl and yet he knows exactly how to work with her and make her believe he has worked at this place since forever. and maybe i'm hoping that he found her on WoW and they became internet besties

anyway, good episode, i enjoyed it. i laughed, almost cried, got stressed toward the end but all turned out well!

#leverage #fluffy reacts #long post #i like to consider myself the funniest bitch alive #why? bc i laugh at myself #i am hoping that one day when alec's playing WoW he finds cheryl and they hit it off so well just them playing together #maybe they build their own guild #also who taught alec spanish??? was it his nana? was it one of his foster sibs? i wanna know! can you show me! #i wanna know about the alec backstory!

[bonesandthebees]

Then there’s Niki’s room. And Wilbur continues to be amazed by anything Niki does. And it’s funny because Niki thinks that actual flowers and the wealth are better, whereas all Wilbur cares about is the freedom and the joy of Niki’s painted flowers. The imperfections that make it human rather than the perfectly controlled flowers of his glorified prison.

Then there’s the birds. Wilbur longs to be like the birds. I am loving the bird metaphors. Wilbur not so much. He’d rather not have a bird in his chest. [“I think it’s a nice reminder not to underestimate people,” Niki said, flipping to another page in her sketchbook. “If you push someone too far, even the prettiest songbird could impale you.”] I wonder if that’s a dig at Wilbur’s past murder attempt on Tommy or Niki describing herself.

No way to know cuz Ponk interrupts. And this is another advantage of Tommy not being there. He would have been more protective of Wilbur and probably a little aggressive towards Ponk. Niki has a different personality. While she’s still wary and a little protective, she was probably just trying to avoid more conflict. She’s also willing to push a lot farther than Tommy would have let Wilbur be pushed. I don’t think Tommy would have let Ponk do a check-up. Though that’s probably because Tommy is better at reading Wilbur’s discomfort. (or thinks he is).

And then we get another display of people realising how fuck-up Wilbur is and Wikburnnot getting why they are sad. Like he doesn’f get why he doesn’f get a bottle of pills, not that he wanted them in the first place, but Ponk and Niki very clearly think that Wilbur’s suicidal. While we know that the reason he ‘wanted’ them to kill him is because he knows he couldn’t kill himself. He doesn’t want to die, he just doesn’t really want to live the life he’s living right now. But at this point, he doesn’t want to go back to the palace and his old life either.

Anyway, Niki and Ponk are tag teaming Wilbur into better health through a combination of doing a mild check-up by asking for things step by step or by travelling about the headaches. This includes several more realisations of this dude is not okay such as: what do you mean you have constant headaches and you aren’t taking painkillers and weren’t planning to tell me? What do you mean it’s your entire head? Why is your heart rate so fast? How much anxiety do you have?

Also, gotta love Ponk completely ignoring that Wilbur had a panic attack a few days before and not asking follow-up questions in favour of telling Wilbur he can help of they get more frequent. Overall it’s a very great example that the Deathlings aren’t monsters. They are people with empathy. Also the whole ‘wanting Wilbur dead thing’ gets cleared up, in that no one actually wanted him dead, they where more debating whether or not they had the luxury of keeping him alive. It also shows that Wi, but argeong with that side that wanted to kill him had a lot of lasting “oh fuck” impact.

-🌲

yes I wanted to show the contrast in their attitudes towards the flowers!! niki would love to see real plants and thinks they have to be way better than the imitations she paints on her walls. wilbur is amazed at how free and alive her paintings look, because picture perfect flowers planted in a neat row aren't really alive. not in a proper sense.

the bird metaphors are so fun to write. I'll let you interpret niki's line there how you like.

yeah if tommy was there ponk wouldn't have gotten through the damn doorway. tommy would've kept him far away from wilbur after the 'kill the pythia' debate, but niki is different like you said. part of it is also that while i didnt get a chance to show it, niki and ponk are very good friends. like, she's definitely closer with ponk than she is with sam for example. so she trusts ponk not to do anything and encourages the check up because she knows the pythia hasn't been seen by ponk yet. at least not in an actual doctor-sense.

to be fair when you're debating whether or not to kill a guy and he goes "yeah actually you should kill me it's for the best" you're gonna think he's suicidal too. poor wilbur didn't even pick up on that with the bottle of pills thing. tbh he'd probably be fine with the pills now, though of course niki and ponk don't know that. a week earlier though? yeah you 100% couldn't trust him with those.

poor ponk is just getting more and more concerned for their prisoner as the check up goes on. he took his heart rate and had to stop himself from cursing out loud because of how high it was.

look ponk could tell wilbur wasn't really comfortable with the whole check up as it was, so he had a feeling that the panic attack wasn't something he was going to want to talk about. also, ponk isn't a psychiatrist. he technically has to act as one since he's the closest thing they have, but his specialty is with more standard internal medicine hence why he just decides to focus on the panic attack as a physical symptom.

but yeah the deathlings aren't monsters. the debate definitely fucked with wilbur's head, but no one meant for it to get as blunt and aggressive as it did.

#ask #spruce anon #through a glass divine

[maeido]

Deirdre is absolutely thrilled when she learns her husband's new best friend has a wife of his own. They had never had friends like this together before the way she and Lord Sigurd did. Of course, she never minded that their time together was shared with just the two of them or with their children--how could she! She loves him!--but she had not realized just how much she misses the company of a group.

The thought does not occur to her that Felicia might not want this.

"Professor Felicia!" She bursts through the other woman's office door the moment she learns she has returned from her trip. "I understand that our husbands are friends and, well..." Deirdre reaches for Felicia's hands, quite surprised that they are much colder than her own. She is unused to being the one with the warmer hands when she reaches for someone. "We simply must become dear friends too!"

              surprised & frazzled,  she knocks over a pile of papers ,   followed by a few tomes wind up all over the floor. her heart pounds in her ears from the sudden outburst of her door swinging wide open, it rebounds slightly off the wall only brushing past her newfound guest's wispy locks. the woman quickly approached her with no real time to react as the only thing she manages is a look of relief as her hands managing to catch the bottle of ink that nearly fell on the floor, maybe that was a sign that this day was luckier today than usual.  

 “   eek! w-w-wh-hat the— oh...!  i mean, i-i,  um , hi there... is there something i can help you wit— !  ”   a squeak is squeezed out of her lungs. the woman who seemed as soft as wool snatched up her hands, feeling the warmth of her skin jolt slightly against her gelid ones.  her shy smile curve on her lips as felicia grows flustered ; not used to being touched so casually like this, it was rather embarrassing — she couldn't help it — as spring blooms in hues of fresh rosebuds on her pale flesh. she was consistent :  the woman before her held a gaze filled with affection, stretching to the ends of her hair, curled soft like silk against her shoulders. her words hardly connected to felicia's ears but when they did it stunned her for a moment.

  hold it.   jakob made a friend?  no, no, no. she doesn't think he'd be able to befriend someone as sweet as her... to be fair and with all due respect and love felicia holds for her husband... but jakob was a tad insufferable towards anyone who approached him regardless of status and carried a different kind of appeal and was  the very opposite of her charm.  regardless, she loves him,  thorns & all,  but even he says companionship isn't curated to his tastes, surely this is all mistake. after all, hardly any of the faculty and knights and much less the students knew that felicia is even married.     “   i-i... um, my husband...?  a-and your husban— wha- wait are friends wha- what... do... um, are you... are you... sur-sure you got the right person, pr-professor d-deirdre... ?   ”  

 felicia pauses shortly after the name fell off her tongue. deirdre .  ok so, not to fall under the stereotypes but felicia knew about her quite a bit but uh...  not directly, that is. she'll admit it, she's a maid... but she isn't fond of rumors or gossip. it's typically crude in nature even for her and she tends to avoid it overall. yet, there are some situations that are harder to ignore than others, especially when her dear students don't shut up about deidre's husband, arvis being probably the strictest teacher next to her own... husband.... a silent gasp then left agape. oh my. okay. that... makes sense but more importantly...

   “   wait... waitwaitwait ,  so you're saying that  jakob.  professor jakob.  m-m-made.... a fr-fr-friend?!?!  ohmygod, i-i'm— i'm so sorry. i'm...  ”   the words choke on staccato as beryl hues blur it's visions against the struggle of the ebb and flow her tears, lashes making a mess of them with every blink she took. to put it nicely she was a bit of a mess, but that was felicia. she gently pull away from deidre's hold for a moment as she uses her sleeve to wipe away her tears, then hovering her mouth. a smile tickles her lips as tears spill over her hand.    “   i'm ju-just... hck! — so h-happy i worried so much about him !  and o-of course, deirdre!  i would love to be your friend, i'll protect you and our friendship for as long as i live.  ”     the maid beams, laughter weaves between the hitches of her teary sobs as she returns her hands into the other's and pulls her in closer to a near-hug.  “   thank the —hck!  h-heavens, ahaha...!  i'm going to have to tell flora about this later, hehe !  ”  

#im not bullying jakob i promise #aNYWAY THE GORLLSS #✧₊ 。❄ ━━━ ⁺∗ ❛⠀ 、 ic. ‧₊❄ #✧₊ 。❄ ━━━ ⁺∗ ❛⠀ 、 inbox. ‧₊❄ #✧₊ 。❄ ━━━ ⁺∗ ❛⠀ 、 sp ; deirdre. ‧₊❄

[mdccanon]

Bigotry and wokeness are both symptoms of an overactive imagination; and are both alleviated by having an educated opinion and commitment to a cause. AKA, knowing what the fuck you are talking about.

I am an equal opportunity bitch about this.

Without fail, racism, sexism, and other forms of bigotry are shut down with boring, procedural critical thinking that focuses on administration and logistics over inflammatory statements and persuasion.

But in order to do that, you have to actually know what the fuck you're talking about.

When someone tells me to Believe All Women, I tell them that I enjoy being innocent until proven guilty, thank you very much. But since they are willing to throw away their constitutional right to a fair trial, let's put a number on it. How much compensation would they pay in settlement or how many months would they spend in, let's say a light security prison, to relieve their hypothetical accuser of the responsibility to prove that they did anything wrong? 50 bucks? 6 months? $5,000? Six years? They may spit in my face, "I hope the day never comes when someone does something unspeakable to you and no one believes you." I will thank them for keeping me in their thoughts and prayers and double down on asking them to explain this feminist-approved new justice system where everyone voluntarily settles out of court to avoid the stress of trial on plaintiffs. What is the cap of this system? How much would a feminist settle to keep her accuser from the stress of proving their accusation?

When someone tells me that ignoring hate crimes against Asian Americans in the wake of COVID-19 sounds reasonable because Asians are rich so passing legislation that gives them "reparations" makes no sense. They will continue to violate the definitions of legal words while talking about hate crimes, legislation, and civil court and use "reparations" because it invokes a feeling of unearned money paid. So, I just double down on Actual Fucking Knowledge. "Why does the income of a plaintiff matter when awarding compensatory damages for, let's say, vandalization? I mean, LOL, besides the assumption that a wealthier plaintiff has more valuable things to vandalize!" They may twist themselves in a knot trying to make individual criminal investigations and trials sound like a win-lose: as if updating the police on Asian current events blinds them from Jewish hate crimes, or a judge punishing someone with higher penalties in one case somehow lowers the penalties in another. So they may try to say its the principal of the matter, like an open campaign shaming Asian hate crimes may not make Jewish hate crimes harder to investigate, but it may make some Jewish people feel left out. Where are their posters? Where are their TV spots? Okay, well, I'll say, like bored mother placating a jealous sibling, good thing the 535 members of Congress have time to update procedures and practices for law enforcement on an ongoing basis and don't have the availability hours as a farmers market. If you think hate crimes are increasing against a group, get first hand accounts prepared in a group and send the information to your state or federal representative. Why do you vote if you think you aren't allowed to talk to them?

See? Boring, isn't it? Court settlements and letters to Congress. When you laugh off the inflammatory bullshit, ignore the bait, bypass the simplicity, and just keep asking real questions of "how does this work?" bigotry and social justice fall apart at the seams. Boring, practical administrative work.

And that's why they hate it. Give them agency, tell them they have all the power in the world, and ask them to explain how their ideas work in real life. Don't let them run away.

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

Ism Traps

Bro. Broseph. Brosephalus. Brocephalopod.

Hear Me.

There’s this whole cottage industry of Woke Brands that are lazily writing altered editions of pretty-okay but sometimes problematic older media. Disney’s been trying and failing to make good live-action copies of its golden age for almost twenty years now. There’s also a whole cottage industry of Anti-Woke Critique Channels, and...

I’ve seen the figures. I know how ridiculously much content someone has to produce in a too-short timeframe in order to have even a shot at making it financially on YouTube.

...but it’s still hypocrisy when they talk about the laziness of the Woke Brands Show writing and then the writing of their own show is lazy. It doesn’t mean they’re wrong about the laziness they’re calling out, mind. Just that they’re hypocrites.

Oh, and bigots.

What I’ve found, watching these critiques, is that woke brands are Bigotry Enticement Snares. Someone with a bit of privilege and a Lotta opinions will come barging in and they’ll have legit things to say about poor writing

- the Little Mermaid remake only mentions a single mother and a single father for Ariel and her siblings, but every sister is a different ethnicity. This is weird enough that it at least could have used a lampshade. - taking the role of ramming a ship into Ursula from Eric and giving it to Ariel makes it harder to believe that Triton would reverse his long-standing view on humans. If nothing else is added to help sell that idea the ending may come off hollow or even unbelievable

but then they’re enjoying the sound of their own voice and get going on

- maybe this is a psyop to make more women in black neighborhoods hate men. Did you know black people have the most single-parent households of any race? (No mention of mass incarceration here. Also totally ignores how Strong Independent Woman Don’t Need No Man is very much not exclusively an idea presented to black people)

Listen.

I get the urge to correct people who are arguing badly.

But when you’re a critic and correcting people who are arguing badly for equality and freedom you have really got to stick to focusing on just the bad argument. You go anywhere else when you’re talking about it and whoopsie-daisy you’re outing yourself.

You can also call out a brand if you think they’re trying to cynically sell a pale copy of the feeling of being a good person to you. HBomberguy’s Woke Brands video does so for like half an hour straight. It’s beautiful. But a bunch of people in the conversation are literal fascists and they’ve worked in this idea that the seeking of equality or freedom or security for marginalized people is the problem, not the cynical point of sale by the massive corporation. And if you’re lazy, or perhaps just foolish or even merely a little too tired when writing, you might regurgitate one of these ideas you heard and absorbed without examination because it had snappy wordplay. Maybe it even rhymed!

My first piece of advice is to take extra care if you’re critiquing a woke brand. If you’re making fun of Hitler you don’t need to think very hard about your insults to avoid expressing bigotry. If you’re making fun of Miss Marvel you do. Of all the penalties for white men to experience, “it’s a little less work to make fun of us without coming off as a bigot” seems pretty tame and totally fair.

My second piece of advice is that if you do overstep on one of these things, yield the fucking point. You double down on one of these conversations and you’ll find yourself swiftly surrounded by allies with tiki torches or white sheets or swastikas in a real hurry and they’ll all have Nifty Ideas to sell you once they’ve chased off “your attacker.” That Way Lies Madness.

[soulmate-game]

Daughter of wonderwoman au where marinette finds out her mother is actually Diana and somehow it ends up with her meeting/being introduced to the batfam maybe because she has super strength and is seen yeeting some bad guys who tried to mug her... Or something.

“... you are running from your problems, Mari,” Adrien’s exasperated voice reminded his best friend. Again. She ignored him, and he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Look, you don’t have to do anything about it! Nobody would hold it against you if you decided to just, ignore that you found anything out at all. But you need to actually think about what we just found out and decide whether or not you’re gonna do anything—“ he side-stepped a piece of trash that went flying in his direction. “—or if you’re gonna move on and pretend nothing happened.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Marinette shot back, pushing her bangs out of her face and tying her hair back with one hand.

“No, you’re currently hiding away in Gotham to avoid your parents while you beat up every random group of idiots who thinks you’re an easy mark,” he retorted. Another wannabe kidnapper went flying in his direction, making him sigh and side step again. She had thrown that one with only her one free hand, showing just how upset she was. “You’re ignoring everything in your life, which is not what we meant we said you should get a little space.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marinette dropkicked the last criminal into unconsciousness before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. She looked over at the now seven passed out men in the alleyway, and the one very frustrated ex-model pinching the bride of his nose. “I think I’m coping just fine.”

“It’s better than being forced to suppress all of your emotions, sure,” Adrien reluctantly agreed. “But not by much. Your angry rampage through Gotham has already attracted more attention,” he raised his hand to point at a nearby rooftop. Several shadows lurked there, looming over the building’s edge. “Which, might I add, is exactly why I told you not to come to Gotham.”

“You’re the one who followed me here,” she shot back before turning to the shadowy figures above them. “Go ahead and come down! But it was self defense, and you can’t arrest or beat me up for defending myself!”

The first figure to drop down straightened your just as quickly, revealing the imposing figure of none other than Batman himself. The little white eyes on his cowl seemed to narrow on their own as he looked down at her.

“That might be true, but I’m sure you know my policy on metas in my city,” he grumbled back at her. He wasn’t necessarily threatening, but he definitely wasn’t welcoming either. With all of his limbs hidden behind the cocoon that was his cape, Marinette would never be able to predict his next move if he did decide to fight. Not that she seemed particularly worried about that as she crossed her arms over her chest and met his glare evenly.

“Oh, do you own this city now? I wasn’t given the memo,” she retorted. “And considering I didn’t even know I was a meta until last week? I think I deserve a little slack. I’m angry and if people think the tiny little girl in pink is an easy kidnapping target, then it’s their fault for making themselves into the perfect practice dummies for me to try out my newly discovered strength on.”

Adrien saw the eyes on Batman’s mask narrow even further. Marinette wasn’t exactly at her most charismatic at the moment, and Adrien didn’t wanna get the both of them into a bad relationship with the experienced superhero who always seemed to know things he shouldn’t know. So he stepped up quickly, getting in between Marinette and the Bat and holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Okay, Monsieur Batman,” Adrien started slowly, making sure his posture was impeccable and his smile bright. “She’s telling the truth, even if she’s not... the most tactful about it right now. She just found out some very concerning things about her origin and Gotham is the best place for her to hide from her problems and let loose a little pent up aggression. But— well,” he grimaced. “We didn’t intend to run into you guys, but maybe it’s a good thing we did.”

“How so?” Batman was clearly still incredibly suspicious of the both of them and wasn’t giving an inch. So Marinette rolled her eyes (she was still very moody) and leaned around Adrien so she could get a good look at the monochromatic hero.

“I thank my lucky spots that we ran into you, Batman!” She said monotonously. “Me and Adrien are paw-sitively excited at this opportunity.”

Batman. Froze.

Not only were those two lines the very first lines ever spoken to him by two foreign heroes a few years ago (with a few key words changed to protect identities), but they had become their code phrase for whenever they made calls to one another outside of their costumes. All at once it seemed to hit him— the golden hair and bright green eyes on the boy, the blue-black hair and normally super-focused bluebell eyes on the girl that were currently sporting very uncharacteristic frustration. Their heights. Their builds. All of this info flowed through his mind and compared to the information stored in his memory, and it only took the span of two seconds for everything to click.

Suddenly Batman was at full attention, back straight instead of looming over them and eyebrows clearly raised high under his cowl.

He knew Chat Noir and Ladybug would never take a random vacation to Gotham. Ladybug herself had nearly waxed poetic about how much the city depressed her just from the pictures she saw online. If she had willingly come to visit, it was more than to just blow off some steam.

“Batcave?” He asked, earning a relieved look from Adrien and a moody silence from Marinette.

“Please,” Adrien agreed. “You can probably help us, actually.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette leaned back in the metal debriefing chair, legs up on the table and looking for all the world as the picture of pure teenage rebellion and angst. Coincidentally, Red Hood was in the exact same position in the chair next to her.

Batman and all of his other bats and birds were in the cave with the two off-duty Parisian heroes. Everyone except Adrien and Marinette still had their masks on, since the two Parisians were still not privy to their identities. Yet.

To be fair, the bats hadn’t known the identities of the two miraculous users either before today.

“Cha Noir,” Batman started, only to get a head shake from the blond boy.

“Just call me Adrien. Chat’s out of the bag—“ he ignored the groans at the pun and soldiered on, “—so might as well use my real name.”

Batman nodded. “Adrien, then,” he amended. “Why are you and Ladybug really in Gotham?”

Adrien sighed. “I wasn’t lying, before. Marinette,” he gestured to his hero partner. “Just found out some distressing family news. Since HawkMoth is gone, she doesn’t need to repress her negative emotions anymore. But she also didn’t want to be around her parents while she processed everything. I told her to choose any other city— really, I begged— but she insisted on coming to Gotham.”

“The never ending cloud cover and constant rain seem thematic,” she finally spoke up, reaching into her big over-the-shoulder bag and pulling out a large envelope. She threw it to Batman, making the thin package slice through the air like a knife. To nobody’s surprise the seasoned hero easily caught the projectile between two fingers. He looked at the envelope and back to Marinette, silent questions floating in the air between them. Marinette decided to answer at her own pace.

“That’s what we found out. You see, one of my friends is a huge science nerd. A genius. And he wanted to compare DNA samples between us to see if there were any genetic components that determined a person’s suitability towards certain Miraculous or other magical artifacts over others. It was supposed to just be a fun side project that he didn’t expect any breakthroughs on. He mostly just wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. But instead of finding out if our DNA was linked to the miraculous, he found out that my parents are not biologically my parents.”

“Hence the whole just finding out that you’re a meta thing, right?” Nightwing spoke up, fully invested in the story. “Did they never say you were adopted before?”

“It’s not in the system,” she replied easily. “My parents have all the documentation to prove that I’m their biological child, except I’m not. When I confronted them about it, they caved and admitted that they had adopted me in secret and covered it up. Apparently a friend of theirs was involved in something illegal, and,” she waved at the envelope that Batman was now opening. “The details of what we were able to dig up are in there. The summary is this; their friend was part of a secret, illegal experimentation to create clones that could defeat the Justice League—“ the air seemed to get sucked out of the room as soon as those words left Marinette’s mouth. Everyone seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. “—a group called CADMUS. They made me, as apparently one of their early attempts. But I didn’t exhibit any of the powers they were looking for, or any meta traits at all, and my body refused to mature at the rate they wanted. They had no use for a seemingly normal human baby that they managed to clone, so they were preparing to kill me and start over. That’s when my parent’s friend stole me, not wanting to kill an infant, and begged my parents to take me in and pretend I was theirs. Low and behold, it turns out that my DNA just needed a very specific series of emotions to unlock it’s latent abilities.”

“Those emotions being..?” Red hood trailed off, earning a wolfish smile from Marinette.

“Intense anger, betrayal, and confused frustration closely followed by the desire to punch other people’s faces in.”

“That last one is just an assumption,” Adrien chimed in. “And maybe not accurate. But the first three, our scientist friend was able to confirm. The rapid experience of a lot of negative but action-oriented emotions released whatever had been holding back the powers in her DNA from expressing themselves,” he had switched to French so that he could explain everything exactly as Max had told it to them, but he knew all of them were fluent anyway so it was fine. They nodded along, processing the information.

The crinkling of paper drew everyone’s attention back to Batman, who had been flipping through the detailed break down of everything they had found about Marinette’s situation and how she was made by CADMUS.

“Uh,” Red Robin nervously spoke up. “What’s up, Batman?”

“Your genetic donors...” Batman breathed, getting a wink and finger guns from Marinette.

“Yup. Isn’t that just the most fucked up thing you’ve ever seen? They were clearly trying to make someone who could destroy the world.”

“That makes me nervous,” Nightwing admitted, getting up and going to get a look at the papers himself. “It can’t be that ba—“

When even Nightwing was left agape, everyone else who wasn’t in on it found themselves squirming.

“Just tell the rest of us, already!” Robin demanded after the silence stretched just a bit too long.

“The unknowing genetic donors that CADMUS used to make me,” Marinette spoke up, still with her legs up on the table. “Are a very mad-scientist’s-wet-dream combination of Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Wonder Woman.”

“We don’t even know why they added Bruce Wayne’s DNA,” Adrien admitted. “Although our scientist friend thinks it’s because of physique. His hypothesis is that, in order to support the genes of Wonder Woman, they had to add male genetics that could support the production of a very high muscle mass and would lean towards easy development of a very athletic body. Lex might be evil-scientist smart, but he’s a string bean. But if he added the DNA of another multi millionaire who just so happens to maintain a ridiculously fit body without putting any obvious work into it,” Adrien shrugged. “Then maybe the clone would be able to support Wonder Woman’s genetics and that of two human donors without falling apart.”

“So I’m ‘the clone’ now, huh?” Marinette snarked, earning an exasperated eye roll from her friend.

Batman just stared at the both of them for a moment. He walked away without a word, and came back with a fresh needle and a box. He placed it on the debriefing table.

“Can I do a paternity test myself?” He asked, his voice suspiciously less gruff than normal. “I trust the both of you, but I rather be safe than sorry with something like this.”

The both of them just stared at him in confusion. They traded a glance, and finally Marinette shrugged and moved to sit in her chair properly. Her shirt was already short sleeved, so she just held her arm out so Batman could easily get a blood sample.

“Sure, why not. But do you just have Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne’s DNA sitting around to compare, or—“ she shut up when she watched Batman take off his glove and roll his own sleeve up. Realization slowly sunk in as he asked Nightwing to take a blood sample from him.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, eyes wide. “You’re— and Luthor doesn’t know— holy shit this is even worse than I thought,” Marinette rambled, not even noticing as Red Hood moved forward and took a small blood sample from her.

Adrien put a hand over his face and just laughed for a moment hysterically. “Oh my god,” he looked over at Marinette. “You could take over the world.”

“I have the blood of Batman AND Wonder Woman on MY side,” Marinette joked back, also hysterical.

When the bat’s high tech equipment was able to come back with a positive result only a few minutes later, Marinette and Adrien had to sit on the floor and just let it all sink in. Which Batman did not at all help by immediately unmasking himself and trying to make a proper introduction.

“I wanna go beat up random thugs again,” Marinette whined, pulling at her hair. “I’ll put on a mask, whatever, but just please let me punch people. I need to punch people right now.”

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #soulmate-game #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #bio!mom Wonder Woman #Bio!mom Diana prince #bio!dad Bruce Wayne #Bio!dad Batman #idk what this is #but it happened #and it’s something

[prof-peach]

if fans wanted to include peach in stuff they write, would that be okay? and how would they write peach's personality? aside from "FIGHT ME" anyway, i think that much is a given lol. i only really write the anime characters 'cause that's what i know, but it sounds like it'd be kinda fun to try making a version of ash that fits into this blog's universe! nerf'd Obviously, but i think she'd probably appreciate how hands-on he gets when training his pokemon!

Ok, I get a lot of these messages, and I often hear folks wanting to throw peach into their stories and comics and writings, and I will always simply ask that if it’s published online publicly, to be linked to it so I can snoop and enjoy the content too. If someone asks about her in your work, let them know about the blog I guess? But literally I love that people take this stuff, these characters and stories, and make new stuff with it. No ones making money off my work here? So where’s the issue? Go for it buddy, knock yourself out, I’m all for it.

For you, and all the others out there who want to add peach, and other characters to your world building, I will give you a detailed rundown of the main lot, and how they behave, what they do, how they function. You can use that, use bits, or use none of it, I do not mind at all. If you’re creating something, you’re in control, not me.

So, peach doesn’t actually fight people as much as you’d think. She’s very aware most cannot and do not want to do that, and so she likes to keep to herself with regards to that aspect of her life, she doesn’t ask to spar with people, or even bring it up at all, but people ask her all the time, even if they clearly would lose or become hurt should she miscalculate during the fight. She looks at people like they usually create problems, and often has a somewhat reserved nature to other humans. You have to work quite hard to get anything more than formalities out of her. She will dead-pan handle people with blunt and very to-the-point statements, aid whenever possible, but very quickly get back to handling the Pokemon she so carefully tends. Her focus is clear, she’s all about hard work, her very small select family, and the Pokemon.

Her brutal, loud and brash personality only comes out with friends, family, difficult humans, OR any Pokemon. She will joke and laugh and play with Pokemon, but clam up around humans, maintaining tight body language and generally will be a little cold by regular standards. She does however have some weaknesses in this emotionless shield she puts up. When peach was young she was always angry, which swung so fast to sadness, back and forth. Her teenage years it just got worse and worse, it was crippling at points. She is to this day, full of fire and rage, even sadness, but now she has learnt to control it, to use it. When she sees that in others, it’s familiar, and she is pushed to drop the front, and be very real with the person. Underdogs I suppose, people who get bad reps, but deserve the same as everyone else. She can’t ignore it.

Once you start to pry open her personality, you’ll find she’s a lot more laid back and fun than originally appeared, you just have to work hard to find that side of her. She will meme reference, can’t dance to save her life, loves her coffee, and can be caught in quiet contemplation while gardening. This hobby is her calmest, and often is why she can stay so level headed when her quiet rage boils up again. Without time outside she will become grouchy, a little snippy, and lethargic. Will not go in the ocean for any reason other than life or death, is fine with ponds and rivers, or water at wading height. Likes the rain.

With regards to her training others, they usually have to tolerate her somewhat strict nature. She is a little....unforgiving, holds a grudge if you make a lot of mistakes, and has no tolerance for ignorance in the age of information that we all live in. In previous posts I’ve mentioned she’s only recently selected two students, after many years of testing kids who want to learn from her. Hundred tried out, only two have ever been approved. How she teaches is very fast paced, be prepared to get some scrapes and bruises, she will test your physical and emotional tolerances with intense tasks, carefully watching students like a hawk. Bad posture in your stance? She’ll be the first to tell you to sort it out. Not hearing your Pokemon partner? Right, now you spend the day without using words trying to communicate, let’s see how you like not being listened to.

This is a woman who has spent her life saying very little, and watching everything, she watches Pokemon and can see an issue from a mile off, and in battles, her observations are why she can react fast, and chose effective strategy to avoid damage and achieve results. Don’t let her body fool you, her strongest asset is analysing, watching, planning. Those skills have over the years transferred to people too. As a student, mistakes don’t go unnoticed with this professor.

Her methods are harsh but fair, and should you prove yourself, she will protect you with her life.

Because of her disinterest in kids and lots of noise, she does pass the training of students on to the other staff members whenever possible. Grey takes on the lions share of battle lessons, he is far calmer, more open and friendly, with patience for people, and an empathy that peach sometimes struggles to have. When you go through a lot of harsh training, and difficult events, it’s hard to change how you feel or think, with peach, well, she’s been through it. Most do not come out the other end in one piece, but she did, and it made her strong. You may think I mean strong like buff and big, and yeah sure she is, but I mean it mentally more than anything. Peach will not quit. She has learnt to destroy the boundaries that stop people getting hurt, gone is the fear that freezes you in your tracks, that feeling that you’ll pass out if you go one more step. She’s learnt to ignore it.

This means she’s a little forgetful at how it is to be normal, to be vulnerable and soft and squishy like students so usually are.

She has her issues, but for the most part, visitors get a laugh, a smile, a calm assertive confidence, and facts. She will indulge those who have genuine interest, or show a connection with nature, an understanding of the balance that needs to be struck for everyone to live well together.

Despite her many flaws, she’s fiercely protective, and will go above and beyond to defend the island, it’s staff, the Pokemon and the visitors. Injustice is her biggest gripe, along with littering, and she doesn’t stand by quietly if something happens that seems unfair.

You will not see her without Valka, her vulpix, close by. That Pokemon doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, at all, and will run the second someone comes at her with that intent. Peach will scold you for pushing yourself onto her, should you persistently try to get close to pet Val. They are in sync, if peach is sad, Val is sad, if Val is stressed, peach is stressed, and so on. They are inherently connected, it’s just been that long, the psychic bridge between them has been built, and reinforced over the years.

The only other Pokemon who follows her so endlessly is Booker, a teddiursa who’s pretty rough looking. He quietly trots behind, grouchy and stoic, they fight closely together a lot. He lost his mom a long time ago to poachers, and peach took him in, and changed her whole life for him. Not many people know, but Booker was the reason she left the rangers, changed career, and got so strong. Will tolerate people petting him but isn’t keen at all, grumbles a lot and tries to move away.

You may also need to know about the others, for the sake of writing, she here a few more bits that may be important to you, or others wanting to do this.

Grey is very tall, very burly, composed, tells bad dad jokes, is a bit of a goof if allowed to be. If he sees a pun, he’ll say it. Can’t help himself. Very nice guy to work with, good at keeping people calm and grounded. Pokemon are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he gives off warm energy, and has inhuman amounts of patience. If you wrong his family however, he will snap back.

He grew up in the city, loves to swim and hike and cycle, can snowboard, is really sporty. A total brain box with held items, and boosting stats. He will explore many paths, to make sure visitors and students get the information they need, in a way that can be remembered and retained for later. Is a huge guy, but will get on the floor to play with a tiny Pokemon. Treats big “meaner” looking species like babies, very good with all pokemon.

His free time is spent either tinkering, swimming, or trimming his bonsai trees. This guy stares at screens a lot, so appreciates time away from them. Peach built him his own little greenhouse for his trees and tools, which he keeps clean and loves dearly.

His methods as a teacher are built around fun and games, he makes hard work easier to do by distracting trainers from the difficult bits, and focusing in on something more interesting or compelling.

His most commonly seen Pokemon would be a houndoom, Saxon, old battle veteran, retired now to herding and being a good boy. Very gentle, loves a pet.

Pari, now a fully fledged nurse, often oversees the labs front desk and pokecentre features, such as healing pokemon, and informing trainers who come to visit. Her skills with eggs and hatchlings is high, she’s great with younger Pokemon, and hands out good advice to trainers a lot. She’s not a fighter, never was, but can find any file, any study, any book, and any refrence you may need. A true bookworm, loves her romance novels, chat shows and upbeat celebrity gossip mags. Will cry at a lot of stuff, be it sad or happy.

She’s got a seriously upbeat personality, but if caught off guard or shocked, she gets a little flustered. Too much chaos will overwhelm her, but usually she’s on top of things. The years spent on the island have made her better at maintaining composure in emergencies. With lots of siblings, she’s very competent with others, and has a good ability to disarm cagey people with her jolly nature. Because of this, she can sometimes gain information from trainers that some of the more harsh professors may not have access to. Charming is a word for it.

Her partners are an eevee, and a happiny. They are quite sweet and well adjusted, the eevee gets a bit bouncy if you get it too excited.

#if you dont want to use the refs #im really cool with it #just enjoy yourself buddy #pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks #prof.grey #pari #dotaku island #dotaku staff #PLEASE #just ask me if you dont know something #or feel i missed something in what i wrote

[becomingbts]

Time heals (sometimes) - 1

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the  burning spotlights and the applause and  the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.

Ask or comment to be tagged!

1.5k

Warnings:  The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences  mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).

NOTE: So hello everyone, welcome to Time Heals (sometimes). Thank you so, so much for the warm welcoming, it has been my first time getting so many asks, I was honestly overjoyed. I still don’t really know what to call this part; is it a teaser? A note? A full chapter? I believe we’ll get some snapshot of memories like this one throughout the series because there is going to be a lot to unpack on both sides. I think it will be a chapter nevertheless because I have to establish some kind of order as to which parts should be read first, and I think this one is extremely important.

Thank you for reading,

-Dolly

Profiles #2 - here - part 2

Her scream pierced through the air while cries broke in the frenzied arena while a single blond-haired man froze, emptily staring at the stage. It felt like his senses heightened; his skin was shuddering, his eyes were frantically searching for one specific figure while his voice was lost in his throat. The screams resonating in the stadium would have been too loud for his voice to be heard anyway. 

Jimin knew he shouldn’t be there. 

Namjoon had told them more than once that none of them should try to go to one of (Y/N)’s events. It could be dangerous and they could be overwhelmed; anything could happen to them and they would still remain a nobody who fainted in the howling crowd. Would they want to take this risk? No.

So, Jimin would have had to admit that going to her very first concert in Seoul since the pandemic sounded like a very, very, very bad idea. And to be honest, it still didn’t seem to be a bright idea now that he was actually there. 

But he still went because he needed to see her for himself; to see how she was. He had so many things he dreamed about asking her. Are you okay? Are you sleeping well? Did you eat before coming to the arena? Are you nervous? Do you... remember me? 

Maybe he was torturing himself. He kept on watching her lives, following her on all social media, always made sure to leave a sweet comment, and never miss any of her new updates... Maybe he even had a folder of pictures of her on his phone but he’d never admit it to any of his mates. Taehyung would probably take his phone away from him and delete everything and Jimin couldn’t let that happen.

He felt like it was cheating. Don’t take him wrong though. When he thought that, he was not really thinking about the boys. They did collectively agree not to follow her activities as an artist but it was getting harder and harder with how popular she got anyway. Moon was everywhere. In commercials, on the radio, her songs were on the TV… Even if she was known for refusing most of the promotional contracts that were offered to her, her image was still constantly in the media despite her avoidance of it. Ironic, but the media were trying their best to find anything about her, be it positive or negative. One day she was seen on her bike, the next, she was in a coffee shop, and it kept on going on, overstepping on her privacy as if it was just a meaningless word. 

The lockdown had admittedly played a major part in Jimin’s obsession. Being in their apartment meant quickly running out of activities, and his job as a dance teacher was not really filling his free time (a lot of his classes were also canceled). It was also during that time that (Y/N) truly blew up as an independent artist. Advertisement on YouTube started being around her channel and her music, the recommendations he kept on seeing were about also her… Jimin’s resolve honestly broke easily. It was hard not to be curious about his lost soulmate even though he didn’t feel like he had the right to be hurting. 

Anyway, to come back to his main point, if Jimin felt like he was cheating; it was mostly for her. After all, (Y/N) had no means of letting the curiosity get the best of her, to know what they were doing; to simply see or contact them. He had, at first, not really thought about that. Watching her content seemed a very innocent thing to do in his opinion; billions of people were watching her content, why should he prevent himself from doing so? Yet, Jimin could still remember one of her live she did soon after that interview she had given on this damned radio show where she had revealed who her title track ‘TIME’ was about… She had gone live the next day-Jimin had jumped on his phone because of the notification-and one fan had asked her what would she do if she knew that her ‘ex-soulmates’ (and those words left a very sour taste in Jimin’s mind) were watching her. The question had silenced a previously restless Jimin, replacing his initial excitation with dread while a lump formed itself in his throat. He had not even noticed it; he was so focused on her live and her upcoming answer that Jimin had completely missed the sound of a glass breaking in the apartment. Jimin had been home alone, so even if had indeed heard it, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to check what had happened, thinking that the wind knocked it over or something. Jimin had been so absorbed by what he had been watching that he even got surprised a few hours later when Seokjin came home and yelled at him for breaking something when he had been clearly innocent, engrossed in (Y/N)’s live (not that he could tell his soulmates about that part, but yeah). (Y/N)’s live would always be more important than some random glass breaking again in their apartment. Every object was doomed with Namjoon living here anyway.

On her side of the screen though, (Y/N) had seemed taken aback as she had read the question and had gritted her teeth gently. She had seemed to be pondering about her answer even though a lot of people in her chat were telling her to forget about the question if it made her uncomfortable (a lot were even scolding the person who asked). Yet, sighing softly, she had looked up at the screen: 

“I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from asking questions on this topic. It’s not taboo but I’d rather not remember everything that comes with it. However, to answer this-hopefully-last question about it, I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content. It would only be fair after all. I’ve been denied access to their lives six years ago, why would they get a free pass into mine now?” She had not smiled nor had she seemed hurt by her own comment, yet Jimin’s heart had shattered in pieces, unable to press the cancel button. 

Her voice had slowly faded into background noise while her words had been stuck in his head. 

I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content. 

How could Jimin ever do that? He realized that he truly should. Namjoon would even agree with you, as ironic as it sounded for Jimin. Namjoon had been one of the most adamant ones about rejecting your bond, after all. Jimin was shaking with bitterness while ‘Moon’ continued her stream peacefully with music. Jimin could only try to gulp his anger down as he remembered her crumbling features on that fateful day. 

“You’re not our soulmates. This name on our arms means nothing to us. You are nothing to us if not a hindrance. Leave us alone.” 

If Jimin could go back in time, he’d prevent Taehyung from spatting those words at her. Yet, he couldn’t do anything. Playing the scene over and over in his mind wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change that she probably hated them. It wouldn’t change the song she made about them. 

And worst of all, it wouldn’t change the fact that Jimin had let himself believe that their choice had been for the best, trying to console and reassure himself, even if he had already known that it was wrong. Tears were pooling up in his eyes even if none escaped as he finally caught a glimpse of her on the stage. Suddenly brought back to reality after his subconscious memory trip, Jimin finally connected back to the world, looking around while he was still frozen on his spot. People were still screaming around him and he wondered if he looked like an intruder. Because, after all, wasn’t that what he exactly was? She said it herself that she didn’t wish for them to watch her; so what was he doing here? 

Jimin couldn’t help but stare; she looked ethereal, dressed like a queen in the middle of a sold-out arena. People were screaming her name as she yelled her infamous ‘hi people’. It was an opening sentence that Jimin heard way too many times in her vlogs and suddenly hearing it in real life seemed surreal. 

Jimin could only watch in awe, entranced with her everything. 

Screw the boys and what they would think once he’d be back from her concert. 

He had been the one to find her six years ago anyway. He had been the one to bring her to their home six years ago, hoping for the boys to change their mind once they’d meet her.

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Uploaded : 09/04/2021

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#bts #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #magicshopnet #author: dolly #verse: idol #verse: soulmate #soulmate au #bts soulmate au #yn idol #lot of angst #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin centred #jimin pov #Angst with a happy ending

[raggaraddy]

Idk of I/someone else has already asked this but how would the yanderes react to having a mute s/o

Mute

A/N: Hi Hi. Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it! 💜💜💜

Trigger warning: Yandere themes, violence, abuse, unhealthy relationships, blood drinking, descriptions of medical care.

Line: Mini-Rap Line (Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin)

Alpha! Namjoon

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Namjoon asks, trying to mask the genuine irritation in his voice.

It's been 8 days and you haven't said a word to him. Now, if you weren't talking at all that would be one thing, but you were specifically not talking to him, and would talk to other people with no problem. Trying to make it as pointedly obvious as possible that you were avoiding him and him alone.

The blatant disrespect of this was driving him mad. But he had never set a rule that directly stated that you have to talk to him or reply to him, and he knew that you would only fight it further if he instituted the edict now.

For you though, you were having the time of your life making him suffer. It was rare for you to have so much control between the two of you, and you were abusing it to the fullest. Especially given the reason this all started.

A week ago you were whining because he wouldn't let you go to the town fair without him. An unreasonable decision he made. Because as you tried to point out, you were going to be surrounded by the pack anyhow, and the excuse he gave for not going was a very unnecessary border run that anyone else could do in his place. While he wants to deny it, you know the real cause for his refusal though. It's because you sounded too excited about seeing your new friend at the fate and he was jealous. Even though she was another girl, for whom you had no romantic feelings, he was still jealous. And petty. You could see it in the way he mentioned her name or his face when you spoke about her.

But even with all that, it was his injustice that really made you snap. The exact words he said to you as you tried to reason your point, were; If you're going pout I don't want to hear another word from you. Basically, he told you to shut up just because he couldn't come up with any valid rebuttals and he didn't want to lose. So fine, if he wanted to be a dick, you were going to simply take his own instruction and hyperbolize it.

And his frustration was worth every moment of silence.

While he was hoping not to further blow this out of proportion, Namjoon was trying to break your silence by being strict towards all your other undesirable behaviour. Disciplining you for each and every rule you broke. Hoping to wear you down, or at the very least provoke you into another argument so that he could claim victory.

He was giving you time outs, taking away your electronics, making you hold quarters to the wall, refusing you junk food and sweets, making you stay by his side the entire day and so on. Fully running through all of his most infuriating and childish punishments. But no matter what he did, you remained defiant. And he was at the end of his rope.

Sitting in the kitchen, you were talking with the Gamma and two other wolves during a patrol break. As Namjoon was putting lunch together, you were happily observing his clenched jaw. However, the aggravation their Alpha was exuding was putting the wolves on edge and they were trying to include him in any way they could. Asking his opinion on topics as trivial as shoes, in the hopes to offset the irreverence you were showing.

When they asked him which of two brands he prefered, you interrupted, sick of their transparent attempts.

"No one cares what he has to say." You snip turning your back to him. For the first time in days, you were referring to him, and all the attitude you had stored up was pouring out in those words. You didn't take a second to think about what you were really saying though.

With an almighty crash, Namjoon smacks his hand into the benchtop, catching the side of the plate causing it to shatter. All three wolves and you jump. Quickly the words replay in your head as you see their wide-eyed gawking. Then the realization hits, you were safe being underspokenly disrespectful, but being outrightly so... he had rules set about that, and now you'd just given him the right to punish you in the way he had been itching to.

Grabbing your arm before you can protest he drags you upstairs to your shared bedroom. With weak shoves and refusals, you stay determined not to utter a single word. But as Namjoon pulls onto the bed, dragging you over his lap, as he lifts up your dress and tears down your underwear, you recognise that it's not time to play anymore.

Ignoring your shouts, your foul language, and eventually your cries for him to stop, he holds you down and smacks your ass raw. After about 20 minutes and once he's reduced you to tears, he finally lets up.

"Apologize," he demands. Still crying, you're too out of breath to reply at once, and that pause costs you. His hand comes down on your bruised ass again making you scream. Your cries turning into whimpered hiccuped apologies as you cling to the tear-soaked duvet.

Satisfied with your change in attitude, Namjoon at last stops. Not letting you run away like you want though, instead he has you straddle his lap, his legs carefully spread so your bruised butt doesn't have to sit on anything.

"Do you understand why I did that Y/n?" He asks softly pulling you into his chest. His hand running over your back.

You know why he did it, but you're too bitter to answer him and can only muster a grunt.

"Still not speaking to me, huh?" He smiles knowing he has already won whether you wanted to admit it or not, "Because if you're going to continue being disrespectful, I don't care if your ass is still glowing, I will bring you back up here."

You can only grunt again. Hating him, while you nevertheless cuddle in closer not wanting him to stop comforting you. He chuckles feeling your energy. Fiddling with your clothes and hair to realign and neaten them.

"Beautiful," he purrs in your ear, "If it really means that much to you, I will have someone cover me this Friday so I can take you to the fair." He consigns, kissing your forehead. You finally look up to him, head tilted and mouth slightly open. "Do you want that?"

Looking down and away, you're pouting a little but you push the word out. "Yes,"

"Okay, I will. But you have to be on your best behaviour from now until then." Namjoon winks.

You lost, but you still got what you wanted in the end. So maybe you can chalk this up to a draw. And at the very least you've found a way to get what you want in the future. So maybe that can be considered a win.

Assassin! Yoongi

Because of your disrespectful outburst, Yoongi had told you that you were not allowed to speak until he says. So far you were 4 weeks into your 5 week deadline.

Initially, it was an unyielding torment to have to be silent. A few times you had slipped up and spoken. Each and every time, Yoongi was quick to respond. He would lock you downstairs for as many days as words you spoke. Luckily, the most you said at one time was 5 words. And he still fed you while you were down there. So while it was horrible, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.

Steadily though, you found it became easier. While you weren't allowed to speak, you still needed to be able to communicate with Yoongi, so he allowed you to nod and shake your head, and smile. It was restrictive, but strangely enough, you found it becoming comfortable. Because you couldn't speak Yoongi expected less from you. You didn't have to search for words when he spoke to you in an attempt to make him happy and overall, it made your interactions less stressful.

With you not speaking, he was speaking less also. So for the past few days, you have been enjoying a wordless dialogue that you and Yoongi were having. And at this point, you were feeling more relaxed and not missing talking at all.

Although waking up this morning you came downstairs to a horrible sight, that made you wish you could scream.

Yoongi was collapsed on the floor. Stretched out on the kitchen tiles in a puddle of his own blood. Covered in bruises and cuts. His torn up T-shirt soaked in blood.

3 nights ago he had left for a job. With the ease between the two of you, Yoongi didn't lock you up when he left, although he didn't downrightly state that as the reason. He must have come home sometime last night, but clearly, you didn't hear him.

Rushing to his side, you're looking down his unconscious battered form with no idea what to do. This is nothing you know how to deal with.

With how long you have been without speaking it feels wrong, unnatural even when you think about doing it now. And you can't bring yourself to release a single word. So you do what you can to try and get his attention, and to wake him up. You shove him, clap over his head. Lastly and desperately smacking his face a few times, sighing in relief as it pulls him back to consciousness.

Groaning, his eyes look to be spinning from light-headedness. Stiffly he tries to get himself upright against the wall. Seeing his intent you help him. Pulling him, you slip a little in the puddle of blood. Your hands and feet are already covered in it. Your limbs trembling as you hold your hands away from your body. Looking down at him with pleading eyes, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

"Medic kit," he breathes, each puff heavy and wheezed.

You nod, spreading a trail of blood through the house to his bedroom. Collecting the duffle bag in his closet that is filled with a surgeries worth of supplies and running back downstairs, you drop the bag at his side, unzipping it for him.

While you were gone he's torn his ripped shirt off. Among the cuts and scars that already litter his pale chest, he has a deep long cut that runs diagonally down his torso. It looks like basic first aid was already applied, blood-drenched gauze stuck on the worst and deepest parts of it.

"I'm gonna talk you through this," he pants, with a struggled smirk, "Maybe wash your hands first, cause if I die of infection, I'll be pissed." His playful banter feels so out of place, not just for the scene but for him. Although, you're not going to question how he wants to deal with a life-threatening injury, and the ridiculousness of you being the one that needs to help him. If he wants to joke to cope, fine.

Nodding and wide-eyed through the whole run-down, it takes everything you have, but you stay calm and stop yourself from crying.

Thankfully time has seemed to stop the bleeding. As you remove the bandages the lacerations have somewhat clotted. Going step by step, you follow Yoongi's every word. First, you clean the area with a bucket of water and a cloth. Then apply an antibiotic ointment, that smells really gross. Washing your hands once again, you lower beside him, and realize you've only just gotten to the worst of it.

While the bleeding has stopped the cuts above his belly button and his hip are deep enough, the fat is exposed.

"You gonna be able to do this?" Yoongi asks as you hold the needle and thread with a tremble in your hands that is painfully obvious.

You nod, taking a deep breath. But even after 3 more of them, your exhales are still coming out shaky. You are in desperate need to calm down and your sure he can't get mad at you in this circumstance, so you're going to try what you've seen on T.V. Standing, you rummage through the cupboards and pull down a bottle of whisky from the top shelf. Watching Yoongi closely as you open the cork, giving him the chance to stop you. But he doesn't so you gulp down a few mouthfuls, shivering as the taste flows down your chest.

You're not sure if it helped your hands, but you feel a little better. So that's enough.

Returning to his side, slowly Yoongi talks you through suturing the openings. A traumatic experience you hope to never repeat. The sensation of the needing pushing through the layers of skin will surely never leave your head though.

During the stitching, you were surprised that Yoongi didn't flinch or react in any way. You're unsure if it was because the area was numb or because he was restraining himself to not freak you out. But in any case, you were grateful.

After everything and nearly 2 hours, you finally move onto bandaging.

Both of you are now able to slump back, thoroughly exhausted. For the longest time after the final step, neither of you move. You're still horrified, leaning against the wall looking over the armature medical aid you've given Yoongi's chest. Almost feeling a sense of pride through the unrelenting urge to vomit.

"You know," Yoongi grunts, shuffling back, lifting only his head to rest against the same wall. "If you wanna finish early and talk now, I think you've earned it." He chortles dryly, with a straight line smile.

Wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist, you laugh uncomfortably. Honestly, after this, you'll be happy to have the next week without speaking.

Vampire! Hoseok

You couldn't take much more of this.

It was endless and he was ruthless.

Night after night Hoseok was coming to you. Drinking from you, hurting you in so many ways, and leaving you. If you were lucky, he'd remember to feed you his blood before he left. If not, he'd let you remain broken, making you suffer through the day.

With everything that you had to endure, you were tired of being tired. Exhausted of being exhausted. Scared and sad all the time, and hating a life from which you had no means of escape. But even with all of this, you were still holding out hope that there had to be some way to lessen your suffering. You had to believe that if you wanted to keep your sanity. You just had to figure out what he wanted.

So far you had seen no depth to him. All you had learnt was that he enjoyed your misery too much. It was like a game to him. Every sound you made, every cry, every time you begged or screamed at him, or fought him, it would only encourage him. He was trying to coax a reaction, to draw out your fear. And with no other form of control, you wanted to see what would happen if you took that away from him.

You theorized that if you did he would get more vicious, but then he would get bored. Best case scenario; he would let you go. Worst case; he would kill you. And somewhere in the middle; he would keep you only for your blood. But any of these were better than the hell you were living in now.

So partly with a plan in mind, and partly out of sheer exhausted terror, you stopped speaking. It was going to be impossible to stop all sounds. There was no way you could stop yourself from screaming or crying or reacting, but you could control the words that came out of your mouth.

And for over 2 weeks now, you haven't uttered a single word.

With the sun high in the sky and being ready to sleep, you come back to your room, jolting as you open the door. Seeing Hoseok sitting on the bed.

In an unnatural flash, he's behind you, goosebumps prickling on the back of your neck. Grabbing a chunk of your hair he jerks and twists you, moving you to face him. His other hand comes up pressing his fingers into your cheeks harshly enough to make your mouth open. Keeping your jaw spread, he moves and tugs your head inspecting inside at all angles.

"Hmm, I was just checking if I cut your tongue out and forgot. But it's there." he uses his hold on your face to throw you back. Crashing you to the floor. "So you're choosing not to speak to me." He chuckles eerily.

As soon as you hit the floor, you scramble to your feet. Struggling to do so with an injured leg, but knowing it's safer to not let yourself remain on the ground or he'll most likely stomp on you.

You croak quickly silence yourself, forcing yourself to not speak and maintain your desperate strategy. Bracing yourself instead like you're facing a wild animal.

He marches forward, grabbing the arm you hold out. You'd rather he break your limbs than your organs. But he uses the arm to yank you forward, his right fist hooking broadly, your head snapping to the side, blood flying from your mouth. "Still not going to speak baby?" He yanks you back, hitting you in the exact same way. And a third time, your mouth gushing blood inside and out. "Are you trying to hurt my feelings?" He laughs switching his target, this time aiming at your torso. Each time dragging you back into place so he can properly hit you again.

Smacking the back of his hand into your head, he lets your fly into the floor this time. Clicking his tongue as he squats, hovering over you. "Baby, it's not as fun when you're not begging me to stop," he says icily. "Maybe I'm not hurting you enough."

Finally, he's giving you the assurance that you were right. Which means just like you thought, he's threatening to become more vicious. So you can endure that, or you can try something extra and see what happens when you outrightly give him everything he already takes.

Gently and so very carefully you lift your arm to his chest, gradually and painfully getting yourself onto your knees. Watching you do so with such difficulty and while you're trying to maintain eye contact with him, Hoseok is too amused to interrupt you.

With the taste of blood flowing from your mouth, you lean in nervously, expecting at any moment to have your body broken in two. Your heart thumps enough to hurt as you lightly kiss him. Leaving a stamp of your blood on his lips. Too scared to even blink as you monitor him. With a curious expression in his eye, he licks lips clean, a trace of a smile raising the corners of his mouth.

Not receiving a negative reaction you continue. Hoisting yourself up again you begin to kiss him slowly, your tongue flicking his lips encouraging him to open his mouth. Deepening the kiss the moment he does. Kissing your blood between the two of you.

Your hands are shaking, your legs are trembling, and you feel sick with fear, but he seems to be stable. And it seems to be working. As tenderly as you kiss him, he is kissing you back the same.

After several minutes and as the pain of holding yourself up gets to be too much, you lower down, terrified that any movement could evoke a change in his response. Keeping your eyes fixed on him, you tie your hair back into a messy bun.

The smirk on Hoseok's face is fully grown as he watches you with complete intrigue. You've never been the one to initiate anything and he is beguiled by your actions.

Coming back to the same height you don't return to kissing him, instead you press your chest to his, clinging one hand into his shirt to keep you balanced, and the other wrapping around his neck to bring his mouth down to your shoulder. It's a wordless invitation that he accepts eagerly, sinking his fangs into the slope of your neck. Too sore and tired to cry out, you can only pant through the bite.

As he drinks, your hands drop and his tighten around you to keep you up. But the second he's done, he releases you and lets you fall to the carpet.

Your eyes open as you hear the bedroom door. However, you see Hoseok stall. Pursing his lips while looking over his shoulder at you. To your surprise, he turns back and in a delicate manner you did not think possible from him, he lifts you up, carrying you to your bed.

Tilting your head up, he presses his lips to yours and your first thought is one of dread. Assuming that he's not finished and he only came back to have sex with you, thinking how much it's going to hurt in your condition.

Pushing his tongue into your mouth you can feel right away that the blood pouring into your mouth is not yours but his. His tongue lapping yours, feeding you his blood the same way you did to him. Healing you in a way he never has before.

Steadily you can feel all your cuts and breaks startling to heal. Clarity returning to your sight and your breath again flowing easily. As your energy returns you begin to reciprocate the kiss. Both out of a feeling of success and clinging on to the taste of his blood, which has come to trigger a feeling of relief within you. Having attached the flavour with the sensation of having your pain taken away.

Abruptly, Hoseok pulls away, getting up without another word or look. Leaving you alone, laying in shock.

It was a reaction unlike any you had expected, but for the very first time, he was damn near humane. So you would have to try that again and see if lightning strikes twice.

Playboy! Jimin

"Ta-da" Jimin bursts into the bedroom with a small black paper bag in his hand and a massive smile on his face. He jumps on the corner of the bed snatching the remote from you and turning the tv off with a click over his shoulder. "Look, Angel." He hands it over, putting the gift in your lap.

Looking down at it, you sigh internally, leaning back you choose to pointedly ignore it. Resting your head against the headboard, you close your eyes.

Lifting the bag by the handles Jimin swings it between his fingers over your head trying to place it in your eye line. "Look, your favourite." He shakes the brand in your face, the joy in his eyes gently fading into guilt.

For 5 days now, you had been stuck in bed. During an argument about your job, Jimin was once again trying to convince you to quit. His points were the same as always. That you didn't need a job because he could pay for you. That you lived with him, and he would buy you heaven and earth. He meant it in a sweet romantic way, but you couldn't help but take it in a 1910 housewife kind of way. You knew that mostly the reason he wanted you out of work was that he was very greedy with you and hated you being around other people. He didn't like that you weren't there to keep him company and entertain him at all times.

Honestly, those 8 hours out of the house, even though you were down to 3 days a week, were so revitalizing. Jimin could be a lot of work. And he was getting more and more controlling about who you saw and when you could see them. Apart from work, it had been 3 months since he last let you go out or see any of your friends by yourself. And you were fighting to hold onto this last little bit of freedom.

However, you will admit in the attempt at making your point solid, you said something incredibly stupid. He said he paid for everything, and you said you needed your own money in case you ever wanted to leave him. And he took that about as well as you'd expect.

"Come on, this isn't fair." Jimin pouts. "I said I'm sorry."

What really wasn't fair was that he hit you, kicked you, and screamed at you. Demanding you apologize and promise to never leave him. But you were coughing up blood, too dazed to even comprehend his words at the time. And when you didn't answer he growled you can't leave if you can't walk as he threw you down the stairs.

It's only by a miracle that you weren't injured as permanently as he intended, but still, he had done plenty of harm. Your ribs and stomach were black and purple. Your face was cut up with your lips split and your jaw swollen. Your arm and hip were also deeply bruised and sore. But with all of this, you truly have no idea the full extent of the damage because Jimin refuses to let you go to the hospital.

So, due to your injuries and your own principles, you hadn't spoken to Jimin since you woke up.

The first day he was remorseful and apologetic. He pleaded and begged for you to forgive him. He tried to hold you and love you and take care of you, but despite the pain and the fact that you really couldn't take care of yourself, you refused him at every turn. On the second day, he was already becoming annoyed that you wouldn't let him near you and kept ignoring him, and on the third day, he yelled at you for being difficult, trying to put the blame for his reaction on you. Yesterday, when he saw that gaslighting you wasn't getting him what he wanted, he went back to being sweet and doting, having had better luck with guilting you in the past.

This means today when his presents don't earn him your forgiveness, he should be right on track to getting pissy again.

He pulls a small box out of the bag, flicking it open. "Ta-da," he smiles. Only to be met once more with your active avoidance. "Look," he whines holding the ring box up but your eyes are closed. "Y/n look!" He barks.

You're not going to, though. He always does this. Buys you something to resolve his guilt. And if for even a moment you express gratitude or pleasure in it, he takes it as complete forgiveness. Then when you haven't actually absolved him, he accuses you of being difficult or a spoiled bitch. Even ignoring him you know he's going to make a problem of that too, but at least this way he will have to keep suffering in his shame.

During the last few days, you've been thinking hard about why you're with Jimin. For a moment, you even thought about packing your things in the middle of the night and leaving him. Moving back in with your old housemate, returning to full-time work and picking up your life where you left it. But thinking that, even with everything bad Jimin can do, it hurt your heart.

He's yours. And out of all of the people in the world, you're his.

Really there weren't too many times that he freaked. And he only did it because he loved you too much, or because you said something cruel like you did this time. No, most of the time he was so sweet. He listened to you, and he really cared about everything you had to say. Even the smallest problems he wanted to help with. He was normally so kind and gentle and he treated you like a princess.

No matter how hard you looked you would never find anyone who treated you like Jimin did.

So even when he lost his temper, you knew you just needed to hold out, because soon everything would return to regular.

This time he just overdid it. And that's why you were punishing him by not speaking to him. Because you knew it was important to stand up for yourself.

There's a flurry of sudden movement and a hefty bang across the room. Your eyes jumping open, Jimin has thrown the ring and the box into the wall. His frustration exploding in a rampage as he attacks your makeup table. Sweeping everything off it, stomping on anything fragile that hits the floor. Throwing the table over he hurls it into the wall, finishing it off by booting his shoe into the mirror over and over until it cracks.

Turning back to you, his hands curled up by his side, it's unnervingly apparent that he is fighting to restrain himself. Even now, as you lay in bed broken, in his rage he is still considering hitting you again.

But you're pretty sure he won't.

Jimin has just never been good at dealing with consequences and he is worse at dealing with the guilt that comes because of his actions. Without you pardoning him, he's going mental. Which is good, because that means he's learning.

"Whatever," he yells, "just fucking forget it." Barging out of the room he slams the door ferociously behind him.

He may be acting harsh, but you know that more than likely he will be going out to replace everything he just damaged. And he'll buy you something even better than a ring to say he's sorry.

And as long as he doesn't hit you again, you'll know that he really is sorry and in a couple more days when your mouth is healed, you will be able to forgive him. Then the two of you can move on from this and it will be as perfect as it can be.

#bts fan fiction #bts reactions #bts fanfic #yandere bts #yandere bangtan #bts #bangtan #bangtan fanfic #yandere #bts yandere #bts jimin #park jimin #kim namjoon #bts namjoon #min yoongi #bts yoongi #jung hoseok #j hope bts #bts hoesok #bts requests #bts scenarios #namjoon #hoseok #yandere jimin #yandere yoongi #yandere namjoon #yandere jhope

[yesimwriting]

Searing Starlight (chapter 3)

A/n I CANNOT believe how many people have supported this story,, I’m so excited to continue it with you guys :)) 

Just a reminder that while this is based off the show i hope to blend in some book aspects/vibes and this is just a fanfic and it won’t be completely accurate/follow the show 100% and any changes I make/parts I chose not to focus on are for the sake of the story I’m trying to tell 

-- 

I can’t tell if I wish Kaz had let me go with Inej or not. She’s faster than I am, and considering that I have no real reason to be loyal to them, I’m a flight risk. That means I’m stuck here with only the Kaz Brekker and Jesper, who I tricked. I hadn’t exactly befriended Inej entirely in the few minutes I was alone with her, but she seemed more trustworthy than them. More susceptible to reason. And when she heard where I was from, who was responsible for raising me, something in the way she watched me changed. It was the oddest combination--a look of both tired sympathy and cautious admiration.

“What I don’t understand…” Jesper breaks the silence. “Is why you all go back there. He lets you leave, he gives you money--there’s no reason to return.” 

I try not to let the question anger me. I shift awkwardly, scratching at my palm. “We tried leaving.” My stomach knots. “Once.” How do I make them understand? “He caught us because we young and stupid, and then he…” I exhale slowly. They’re just words. They don’t change anything. Whether I speak them or not, the events of my history aren’t different. “He picked the youngest, a girl only six months younger than me, and he slit her throat from ear to ear and took a finger of anyone that flinched as her blood splattered onto them. He said her blood was our penance and to live with knowing what we did to her would be our punishment.” 

I don’t tell them that I was twelve. I don’t tell them Anya lied about my birthday on the records. I don’t tell them I’m missing the very tip of my pinky--a small punishment for the twitch of my lip. “When Kenya is truly angry, he never hurts you--he hurts those around you.” No one responds to that. They’re making me seem like such a bummer. “It’s not awful all the time...he borders on agreeable when you listen to him.” 

Most days we have peace, left to our own devices as long as we accomplish certain goals. Their silence does little to unnerve me. After speaking so freely of such a nightmare, the desire to be rid of the taste of those words from my mouth is almost overwhelming, but I hold to the silence. 

“Why has he never sold you to the grisha that are so desperate for you?”

Of course Kaz Brekker would ask a question like that. “He isn’t the business of money, he’s in the business of creating gods. He indentures people he thinks could one day become saints or something else entirely. He wants to be owed by the heavens.” 

I watch Kaz carefully, a part of me curious about how someone like him could react to a goal like that. I can see him understanding the ambition of it all, but I can’t imagine himself a person of faith. Perhaps he’ll think it a clever trick. Perhaps he’ll even agree with Kenya.

He nods once; something I get nothing from. 

Whatever. He can be coy and distant this entire time. They all can. I’ll be out of here soon enough, and I’ll find Anya. And if I can stop something bad from happening to Alina then that’s a bonus I’m willing to take risks for. 

“That man is awful.” 

Inej’s voice comes from right behind me. I snap my head around. “You’re in here.” 

She nods once, oblivious to how shocking her sudden appearance is. She hands me a knapsack casually, staring at Kaz. “What’s the plan? We have six hours.” 

I look around the room, only seeing one closed window and one closed door. “There’s one door in this room.” 

“We take the Inferni to the ship.” He doesn’t even bother looking in my direction. 

Okay, they can be mean to be all they want but they can’t ignore me. I don’t think I’ve ever been ignored in my entire life. Gods in the making get attention. It may be the cruel attention of fate, but it’s something. 

“Did she come in through the window?” 

Again, I am ignored. 

“And then what, boss?” Jesper casually crosses the room, sitting down next to me on the small couch. It’s like I’m not even here. “We’d need to break into the Little Palace to get Alina.” 

What? “You guys are going to--” No. No. I am not kidnapping Alina. And there’s no way she’d be in the Little Palace. “First off--if you want to kidnap Alina Starkov for whatever insane ploy you’re all playing at, you’d never find her at Little Palace. She’s not a Grisha and second--” I cut myself off, standing from my seat. “Why am I even telling you this? I shouldn’t be helping you kidnap her.” 

Kaz’s eyes dart to me boredly. At least it’s some kind of acknowledgement of my existence. “I thought you two weren’t close.” 

I seriously consider scorching him. Just a little. Not even enough to scar him, just enough to get him to shut up. “She’s still a person who has a right to her body and what happens to it.” 

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but if we pull this off we get one million kruge.” 

What does he think I’m going to say? ‘Okay, well as long as you’re doing it for a good reason.’ Is that the response he expects. “Okay, well that makes it fair.” 

His eyes narrow skeptically, but Jesper is the one to ask, “Really?” 

“No,” I scoff, slumping back into my seat, “I was being sarcastic.” 

I drop my head back, neck craning over the back of the small couch. It isn’t exactly comfortable, but at least it makes it easier to ignore them. I’ve kept worse company for less. There’s an odd silence for a long second. I look forward without moving, I see Kaz vaguely gesture in Inej’s direction.

“Y/n,” Inej’s voice is refreshingly measured, “I think after the kinds of things we’ve gone through we understand that there’s some relativity in morality.” 

I shift my head to the right so I can look at her. “...Yes, but you’re just forcing another girl into a similar situation.” Why is Alina even worth so much? “And why would anyone pay so much for Alina?” 

Inej hesitates, glancing at Kaz and then back at me. “She’s a Sun Summoner.” 

On instinct, I straighten entirely, my body rigid. They’re insane. “You all are cracked if you think Alina’s a Sun Summoner.” No. No. It couldn’t be her. “Bless your hearts, seriously, she’s--she was trained to be a map maker--she’s not…” None of them relax, none of them shift in any way. What good would lying about this bring them? They have no reason to lie about this. “Saints, I should have had more to drink while downstairs.” 

So what if she’s a Sun Summoner? She didn’t ask to be one. She doesn’t deserve this. I cross my arms. “It doesn’t make this okay.” 

“And would it make it okay if you were getting a cut of the profit?” What? 

Kaz is looking at me in that tactful way. It takes all of my focus to not let myself become unnerved. “What?” 

“If I offered you a cut, would you be able to push aside more protests in order to make working with you easier?” 

Could I do it? Could I betray Alina? I drop my gaze away from his, opting to focus on the forgotten lantern on the coffee table in front of me. It flickers to life with no conscious prompting on my part. The flame is low and blue. Still though, Kaz notices it. What doesn’t he notice? 

“I can help you do what I agreed to.” I swallow around a lump in my throat, “But I cannot help you kidnap Alina.” 

The corner of his mouth tugs downwards. “We’re just going to get her to work with us.” 

“Work with you?” 

“We never said anything about taking her, and if Alina is really your friend you should know that the entire world is after her. Better us who can get her out of an unwanted situation quickly than the brutal General Kirigan who will hold her hostage until she does what he wants.” 

...I guess he has a point. “Oh.” I’m not naive enough to think that their methods will revolve around making Alina comfortable, but perhaps it’s not as dark as I assumed. “Maybe I was a little quick to assume…” I trail off awkwardly, looking at Inej for some type of reassurance. She avoids my gaze. 

I scratch the back of my arm, feeling like a spiraling child. I pick up my knapsack and place it on my lap, fiddling with the strap. 

“Come on,” Kaz stands, adjusting his grip on his cane, “We only have until sunrise.” 

As I stand, I pull down the skirt of my dress, suddenly aware of how inappropriate my clothing is for this late in the night. “Can--can I change first?” 

It’s a sheepish question, leaving me feeling like a child. 

“Five minutes,” Kaz offers, stepping out of the room with the rest of them. 

Inej leaves last, feet more silent than a cat. She offers me the tiniest hint of a smile. Despite my reservations, I beam at her. Something about me finds her politeness endearing despite it all. I think she closes the door loudly on purpose, to assure me of privacy. 

Normally changing in a building so full of drunk men would leave me nervous, but knowing Inej is outside leaves me feeling safe. I may not trust her with my life but something about her being tells me she values personal autonomy enough to protect it. 

I sift through the belongings Inej brought me. Clean underwear I try not think of her searching for, a thin white dress, comfortable pants, shorts, a few casual shirts, my red hood, and a nightgown. When I get to the bottom of the bag, and I see the personal belongings Inej smuggled back for me, I’m moved so powerfully my hand flies to my mouth on instinct. She had brought the folded up piece of paper with the only information I’ve been able to find about Kamil, the book I left on my nightstand, the small candle holder Alina had given me the day before I was taken away, the blade Mal had given me the day I left, the deck of playing cards Anya had first taught me to play with, and my mother’s necklace. The silver north star on a long chain. 

Before I can become too emotional, I take off the Crow’s Club T-shirt Inej had given me when I looked cold. I change into black pants, tucking the small blade Mal had given me into the pocket. The shirt I put on is pale blue, breaking the dark theme of everything around me. I fasten my red hood over my shoulders, basking in the familiar fabric. Lastly, I pull the north star necklace over my head, watching the blue orb with a black dot at its center blink at me in the light. I always found the stone at the pendant’s center odd. I'm quick to walk towards the door, nervous about what wasting their time could mean. 

“Let’s do this,” I sigh, pushing open the door. 

They all pause. Or maybe they were never moving. I try to imagine them interacting normally, but it’s hard to picture them as anything but intense and unflinching. There’s something odd about them, though, Jesper practically sulking and Kaz dropping his head despite Inej’s harsh stare.

“What kind of stone is in your necklace?” 

I swear to the Saints that if Kaz Brekker tries to steal it I’ll melt those leather gloves into his hands. “Try to take it and--” 

“That’s what I get for trying to make ‘polite conversation.’” He throws a look at Inej as he speaks the last two words. 

Wait--did Inej tell him to try to make polite conversation? Wait--more importantly, did he just kind of, almost say something that borders on casual? 

Wrinkling my nose, I let out a slight sigh. “Sorry.” 

His eyebrows draw together quizzically. “Did you just apologize for assuming I’d steal from you?” 

Great. Now I’m fully embarrassed. “Can we just go?” 

“Not before meeting me, I hope.” The stranger’s voice means nothing to me, but the others tense at it immediately. What? The man continues to walk forward, his steps too casual and confident for me to trust. The stranger is quick to respond to the question on my face, “Pekka Rollins.” 

--

Taglist: @ambrosia-v-black @fandomstuffff @boxofteenageideas @losers-club6 @cityofstaars @stillreadingfantasy @slatersbrekker  @xoxo-aclown @alzawas-plug @nuwanda-greaser @swearingsolemnly @-thatgirloverthere-

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7

#the dakling #the darkling x reader #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows x you #soc imagine #soc #shadow and bone show #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #genereal kirigan imagine #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #imagines #my works #grishaverse #grisha #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse fic #grishaverse x you #aleksander morozova

[imagineaworld]

evening shift - iii | b.b

pairing : bucky barnes x reader

summary : another evening shift leads to bucky coming to y/n’s rescue

word count : 1.1k

warnings : swearing, attempted assault (may be triggering given recent real world events to pls be cautious), teensy bit of violence

masterlist

Bucky woke up early on Monday, ripped from his sleep by a nightmare that often plagued his mind. He sat up like lightning, panting to catch his breath. He looked at the time: 5:47 am. 

At least he managed to get some sleep, he supposed. Now all he needed to do was pass the time until 4 pm, when he would head to the bar where Y/N works to hand in his resume.

Making the most of the relatively empty streets, he decided to go for a run, at least until the sun rose. 

-

Monday afternoons were always quiet. Not many people go out for drinks on Monday afternoons, so Y/N wasn't particularly busy when Bucky eventually strolled in around 4 and took a seat at the bar.

"Hey, you," Y/N smiled, seeming genuinely happy to see him. "How's that resume?"

Bucky handed her the sheet of paper that had his resume printed on it. "Ready."

Y/N's eyes scanned the paper. "Looking good," she said. "Want me to pass it on?"

Bucky nodded, bouncing his leg on the barstool. 

He watched Y/N disappear through the staff-only door with his resume and anxiously awaited her return. 

He thought about what would happen if he actually got this job. Y/N would be his coworker, perhaps they could even become friends. Or were they already friends? Maybe Y/N thought they were. Or she was just being nice and Bucky was reading into things too much.

She returned shortly after, looking rather put out. She noticed Bucky's concerned look. "Everything's fine with the resume," she reassured. "I've been asked to stay a bit later, which is a bit...shit."

"I'll stick around, if you want," Bucky replied. "Keep you company."

"I'd like that, although there are only so many drinks I can give you on the house," she joked.

Bucky took twenty dollars out of his pocket, sliding it across the bar towards her. "For the coffee and for your help."

Y/N shook her head. "Coffee was on the house and you don't have to pay me for being your friend, Bucky."

So they were friends. He hadn't really had a friend since Steve. Especially not a girl friend. And she had said his name... God, his name sounded so good when it came from her lips. 

He tried not to think about Steve, or the way Y/N said his name. "Then I will have a cup of your finest coffee and you can keep the change."

She laughed but took the money. She took the amount for the coffee and put the rest of it in the tips jar. Bucky scowled.

"I'll get you that coffee."

-

The hours passed by and the sun had set. The bar was busier now, with more people having some drinks after work. Bucky had been sat talking with Y/N all afternoon and into the evening.

He learned her favourite colour and that she had an older brother. She survived the Blip but her brother didn't, so technically she was the older sibling now. But growing up, she had been the younger sibling.

Bucky had successfully avoided answering too many questions about himself. He made sure he didn't lie though, he hated the idea of lying to her.

At 7 pm, she had gone through the staff-only door and re-emerged with a jacket and a bag slung over her shoulder. 

"I'm off," she announced to Bucky, heading around from behind the bar. 

"Why not stay for a drink?" He suggested.

He would never have done it if he hadn't seen that man at the other end of the bar watching Y/N the whole time he's been there. Something about him wasn't right, Bucky thought. And with the number of drinks Y/N had made for him, he was very drunk too.

"I'd love to," Y/N said, causing butterflies in Bucky's stomach. "But I have to get home to feed my cat, he's probably wasting away by now."

"Oh," was all Bucky said.

"But if I could get your number, we could arrange drinks another time?" She proposed.

She wanted his number. She wanted to get drinks with him. More butterflies. Bucky fumbled in his pocket to pull out his phone and handed it to Y/N to put her number in.

"There," she said, handing Bucky his phone back. "Just send me a text and I'll have your number."

He sent a quick "Hi :)" text and they said goodbye. But he couldn't shake that uneasy feeling in his stomach, no matter how many butterflies replaced them.

-

Y/N was cold. She hadn't anticipated having to walk home in the dark and cold. Arms wrapped tightly around her body, she walked a different way home than she usually would, sticking to the main, well-lit streets.

"Hey, baby, where you going?" A voice called out from behind her.

Dread flooded her body but she kept walking, picking up her pace a little. She could hear the footsteps behind her getting closer and closer. A hand reached out to grab her wrist, pulling her to a halt.

"Where you off too, hm?" It was the man from the bar, she'd been serving him drinks all night. The smell of booze was radiating off him.

Y/N tried to pull herself free but the man had an iron grip on her poor wrist. She began to panic, her breathing quickening as she debated what to do. 

She could run, but he would follow her. Then he would know where she lived. If she didn't run home, where else could she run? What if she ran into someone else with wicked intentions?

"Hey!" Another voice called out. Bucky. He stepped closer, into the light of the streetlamp. "Hey man, back off."

The man let go of Y/N's wrist and she backed away. "Why? Is she your girl?" He challenged Bucky. Bucky didn't answer. "Cos if she's not, then she's fair game."

The man's words enraged Bucky. He lashed out, landing a punch square on the man's jaw and knocking him to the ground. 

Bucky stepped over the man's figure. "You okay, Y/N?" He asked, gently taking her wrist to inspect for injuries.

YN snatched her wrist back. "Were you following me?"

"I was following him," Bucky clarified, motioning to the unconscious man on the floor. "I saw him eyeing you up at the bar. That's why I asked you to stay. And then I watched him follow you as you left."

And here Y/N thought Bucky just wanted to have some drinks with her. "Oh," she said. "Thank you."

"Are you okay?" He asked again, ignoring her thanks. 

She shook her head. He could tell she wasn't okay, her eyes looked bewildered and her shoulders went up and down rapidly as she breathed. 

Bucky extended his arms. "May I?" 

Y/N nodded, stepping closer to Bucky as he wrapped his arms around her shaking figure.

"You're okay now," he whispered to her softly. He could smell her perfume, the same floral scent as before. "Let me walk you home, hm?"

"Okay," she said, pulling away and wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

TAGLIST:

@felicityofbakerstreet​

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky barnes #james barnes #sgt james barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu #mcu imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine

[forever-rogue]

“we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!” FRANKIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You asked for some Frankie and you get some angsty Frankie, babeyyy. Did I loosely base this off an experience in my own life? Maybe. But this one has a much better ending. Enjoy!

Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

»»————-　♡　————-««

What was supposed to be a simple shopping trip ended up being a lot more than you had bargained for. You’d gone shopping for Christmas decorations with Frankie, aka your best friend, also aka the love of your life. Except he didn’t know that, and he would never know.

Above all else, he was your best and oldest friend and you didn’t want to lose everything you had with him, and if that meant suppressing your feelings and staying quiet, then you were willing to do. You’d rather have him as just a friend, than nothing at all. And you were sure that he would never like you back. Why would he?

But as you looked around the shelves of the home goods store, chatting away excitedly as you both sipped your hot cocoa, you felt fine, everything was fine. Until he ran into her. His latest girlfriend, aka a girl you just inherently despised, but had no real reason to. She was kind, albeit not a fake way, and friendly, having been more than kind to you on the times you’d met her. She was pretty, fun, and it was easy to see why Frankie had fallen for her; she seemed to make him genuinely happy. Of course she’d chosen today to come to the store at the same time, and he’d greeted and chatted with her for a moments before turning his attention back to you.

You’d tried to pretend everything was fine, in reality it was, and nothing was changed. Something within you had snapped. It had completely broken you were suddenly heartbroken. There was something about the moment, about today, that had you realize just how much you loved him. How much your chest ached at the thought of him, and how you would never having anything more.

And maybe it was time...to let it go. You didn’t want to constantly feel like this, or harbor these jealous feelings any time he’d have a girlfriend, or more. It wasn’t fair to him, or to you. You either laid it all on the table, or you had to walk away. You just knew you couldn’t do it anymore.

“Bee?” Frankie’s soft warm voice reached your ears as you looked at the small little bee ornament displayed on the tree. It had made you smile when you’d seen it initially, especially since that been Frankie’s nickname for you since you were kids, “is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you took your hand away from it and blinked a few times in order to keep your tears at bay before taking a step back. You looked at those eyes, those soft brown eyes, before making a hasty decision, “I, um, I have to go to.”

“What?” he asked, confusion visibly crossing his features, “what do you mean? We just got here and we’ve still got plans-”

“I know, I just remembered that I have to go,” you lied as you tried to offer him a small smile, “I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“I drove,” he reminded you, “let me give you a ride to wherever you need at least.”

“No, it’s okay,” you had your back to him, a few tears spilling down your cheeks as you kept your back to him, “I’ll get an Uber or something-”

“Bee-”

“Goodbye, Frankie,” you interrupted him before he could go on, rushing out of the small shop as you started to sniffle and cry, not even bothering to hold it back anymore. You knew, the remaining logical part of you knew, that it wasn’t exactly fair to do this to him either without some sort of explanation, but you couldn’t do it. Not right now anyway....maybe one day.

»»————-　♡　————-««

One day had turned into several days and several days into weeks.

You hadn’t meant to let it get this far, but once it started you couldn’t stop it. Days were spent wallowing and crying, feeling sorry for yourself even though you had brought at least part of this yourself.

And Frankie? Poor Frankie. He was seemingly just as distraught as you were. He had called and texted nearly everyday, checking in on you, asking if you were okay, but everything went unanswered. He even came over in the evenings after work and you feigned sleeping or that you weren’t home. He even came by your office and asked about you, but you had politely declined his visit.

You were being a terrible, awful jerk and you knew it. You just couldn’t handle being around him at all right now. It was all too much and not even at the same time. But he was persistent, damn persistent and he wasn’t about to let you walk out of his life. Not without a good reason.

So one evening, after he was off work, he came straight over to your house, sitting down on the porch and waiting for you to get home. He was done waiting for answers. It had caught you so off guard that you panicked and didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like you could just hide or run away; no, it was time to face you demons.

Swallowing thickly, you climbed out of your car and slowly made your way over to him, offering him the ghost of a smile as he looked at you with red rimmed eyes. Shit. You hadn’t meant to do this to him. He looked just as nervous as you as he clutched a small box in his large hands.

“Frankie, what are you doing here?” you attempted to side step him, but it was no use. He was on his feet in a flash and blocked your way to the door, “Frankie...”

“Why have you been ignoring me?” there was a crack and a shake to his voice as you allowed yourself to meet his eyes, “you ran out on me and then have been ignoring me for three weeks. Bee, what’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“Frankie,” you already felt the warm, familiar sting behind your eyes as you realized this was happening. It had to, after all, at one point or another. There had been no way that Frankie was going to let anything go, “please don’t do this. Not now...”

“Then when?” he asked as you stared at your feet and shrugged, “my best friend, and the best damn thing in my life just walks away and says nothing and you except me to just accept it?”

“I...we’re just friends,” you stated as he avoided looking at his eyes. If there was any time to go ahead and spill it all and pour your heart out, it was now. You took a long breath and steadied yourself, “and I don’t know if I can do that anymore...I don’t know if we can be friends anymore.”

“We’ve been friends for almost thirty years,” he let out a small, bitter laugh, “and you want to just stop? For no reason?”

“I have a reason,” you wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, warm and salty as ever, “I can’t be just friends with you, Frankie. Friends don’t do this type of shit, all the things we do. How we are, how we seem...it’s not just friends. You and I both know it, and I know you only see me as a friend. And I can’t keep doing it.”

“What do you mean we’re just friends?” he asked softly as you held up your hands in frustration, “please just say what you want to say. I-I’ve been worried sick about you for weeks, at least be honest. And if then you still decide you want nothing to do with me, I’ll respect that.”

“Frankie, I...I’m in love with you,” the words came out surprisingly easy. They’d been on the tip of your tongue, as you always seemed to dance around them, for years. And now they were out, on the line just like your heart, “and I don’t just mean I love you, but I’m in love with you. Actual love.”

“D-do you mean it?”

“Yes,” you nodded slowly, “and that’s why I had to walk away...you deserve happiness Frankie, we all do, and you seem so happy with Ashley, and she seems so kind, but I can’t help but harbor negative feelings for her. Because she has what I want...you. And it’s not fair to you or her or me to feel that way and still hang around. It’s no one’s fault, it’s just the nature of the beast. But I think it’s best if we...just didn’t hang out for a while so I can get my own feelings in check and see if I can be just friends with you.”

“I broke up with Ashley,” he admitted as your jaw dropped and you raised your eye in confusion. He nodded at the the surprise on your face, “the day after you ran out on me.”

“What? Why? You seemed so happy together...”

“She was great,” he admitted softly, “and she was very kind and understanding when I told her I couldn’t be with her anymore. She said she’d kind of felt it coming for a while.”

“Oh. Oh. Why? What happened?” you asked as he was now the one to avoid your eyes.

“Nothing happened so to speak,” he confessed, “she asked if I was in love with you and I said yes. I have been for a long time...she said it was obvious. I don’t know...it just hit me. I’d always known, but something changed that day, and I really knew. I decided it was time to tell you too. I don’t want to spend a single day without you, Honey Bee.”

“Frankie...” you looked up and saw that he was crying now too, his cheeks flushed pink as he waited for you to say something, anything. In his haste, he held up the box to you, which you slowly took and gently unwrapped. Inside was the pretty little bee ornament you’d been eyeing at the shop. You cradled it delicately in your hand as you looked up at him, regretting walking away without a word, regretting almost losing him completely, “it’s the one I was looking at it. You got it for me?”

“Of course,” he slowly reached up and put his hand on your cheek, gently stroking your soft skin, “a little bee for my sweet bee.”

“Do you mean it, Frankie?” you keened into his touch as clutched the bee to your chest, “because I don’t want you to say it unless you really mean it.”

“I do,” he promised gently, “the only thing I regret is not saying it a long time ago.”

“Me too,” you agreed, “I’m sorry for walking away like that ignoring you. I shouldn’t have just left.”

“I wouldn’t have let it go without a fight.”

“Good,” you beamed at him, “I love you, Frankie.”

“I love you, Honey Bee,” the two of you just grinned at each other like fools, “can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Please.”

So he did. Finally.

Frankie finally kissed you. And it was everything and then some that you had always wanted and dreamed of.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[plus-size-reader]

Everything He Wants pt.3

Carl Grimes x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2080 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: The reader and Carl finally get to the bottom of what they feel for each other, but doing something about it isn’t as easy as it seems. 

Part 1

Part 2 

—————————————————————————————————

There was a bit of awkward silence between all of you for a moment as the men did their best to figure out what was going on.

Clearly, there was something happening but even Carl was lost, and he was part of it. 

Rick and Negan had no hope of understanding, and frankly, that was by design. This was something you were going through with Carl and you didn’t want to involve them.

There was no way this was going to end well.

You couldn’t help but scoff, thinking about how something like that would go down. The two of you in love? It was insane. If Negan could hardly even handle a look shared between the two of you, a conversation would kill him.

However, you couldn’t exactly avoid it.

If you didn’t talk to Carl soon and figure out what was going on here, you were going to lose your mind. 

Since the last time you’d seen him, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the strange feeling you got when you were around him, and you weren’t sure where to go from here.

This wasn’t something you were used to, after all. You had never been in this situation before, but you knew one thing for sure.

It wasn’t in your nature to just accept anything, and the way you felt for Carl made you uncomfortable. Because of that, you needed to know how he was feeling or what was going on in his head before you went crazy.

This was too much.

“Hey Carl, why don’t we get out of here” you suggested, offering your hand to him which he took slowly, completely unsure if he was okay with what was happening. After all, this was just as new for him as it was for you, and it wasn’t exactly foolproof.

Neither of you had ever done this before.

You had no idea how this was going to go down, but to be fair, there was more at stake for Carl. He didn’t want to get his dad into any trouble, but once he deduced that Negan wouldn’t overreact, he followed your lead.

Nothing terrible could come from such a casual action, right? No one was going to die because you had a conversation.

You hoped.

Neither of you spoke until you were far enough away from the rest of the people in Alexandria to have some privacy, but when you did, it was casual enough. You had no idea where this was going, but Carl was easy to talk to.

Easier to talk to than anyone else you’d actually spoken to before.

“I’m so sorry about him, he can be just awful sometimes” you shrugged, acting as if your father had just made some inappropriate joke at a parent teacher conference, instead of being the murderer he truly was.

It was a bit dramatic, of course, but Carl decided it would be best not to address that. Instead, he nodded, trying his best to think of what he wanted to say. 

For some reason, his tongue always went numb around you and made it impossible to speak.

It was pathetic, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you hated him because of it. He should have been able to talk to you, at the very least, but it just didn’t look like that was going to happen.

You made him nervous.

“I’m really glad you came outside” you smiled, forcing yourself to channel some of Negan’s unending confidence you’d grown accustomed to instead of worrying about what could go wrong here.

Worst case, everything went up in flames and even if that happened, you never had to come here again. 

The only thing that could come out of this was good, or at least, something new.

In this world, you lived like every day was your last because it very much could have been, and this wasn’t going to be the end of the world. This was one of those things that people did all the time before.

There was no reason you couldn’t do it now.

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I wanted to” he replied, swinging your two joined hands between your bodies. It should have been a casual motion, but instead, it was stiff and uncertain.

He clearly wasn’t much of a talker but that didn’t bother you, you could fill all the empty space there was.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” you hummed, doing your very best to address him. You had no idea what the best way to do this would be, but evidently, you had decided to just throw away all the strangeness in exchange for reality.

You were both real life people and there were no rules about how you needed to do this.

After all, you didn’t owe anyone anything.

“A little” he decided, still blowing his own mind with the fact he was here at all. There was no reason that the two of you should have had anything in common or cared about one another but here you were.

This was just what happened.

“To be fair though, I think that everything is weird anymore” you shrugged, thinking about how everything had changed. 

When you were kids, there was still so much normalcy ahead of you.

You never thought that this was where you would be, but here you were nonetheless.

This was what life was now.

“Yeah”

There was more silence between you as you walked, still holding Carl’s hand in your own, and before long, you were both outside his home, having made a huge circle around the walls of Alexandria.

The streets were still swarming with Saviors and Alexandrians alike as the raid ensued but you paid them no mind. 

For you, this was a real sanctuary, something that you hadn’t had in a long time.

There was just something about being with Carl that made you feel like the world wasn’t constantly on the edge of imploding.

It was nice.

You had no idea where this was going or how this had possibly happened, but you weren’t going to argue. Instead, you followed Carl into his home, ignoring all the saviors still littering the place, and made yourself at home.

“You wanna meet Judith?” he asked, his jaw tightening as he watched a few of your men carry out some boxes of things that they were never going to see again. 

It was just another reminder of why he shouldn’t be here with you at all.

You were always going to be the enemy.

...And even still, he was introducing you to his sister.

She was absolutely precious and you fell in love immediately. She was a giggly, cooing mess and you couldn’t help but swoon. She had this joy that just radiated off of her that no one else in this world could ever hope to imitate.

It was incredible, but as taken as you were with Judith, Carl was with you.

Even knowing that there was no way this was going to work, he couldn’t help himself.

It was the strangest thing, he couldn’t handle the sight of you with Judith cuddled in your arms. It was the most wholesome scene and it took his breath away, because he’d never felt like this before in his life.

He was in way too deep with you and it was going to be the end of him.

All in all, he was completely screwed.

Then, once Judith had gone down for her nap, you found yourself sitting on Carl’s bed, looking through a few dirty comic books. You hadn’t seen them in several years, of course, as the sanctuary didn’t consider them viable goods.

Still, you were glad to see them.

“You have quite the collection here” you hummed, leafing through the pages, now a bit weathered with age and grime. 

This was one thing you didn’t get at home, in the cold industrial environment of the sanctuary.

It wasn’t exactly personal.

Even with all the things that Negan made sure you had, you just felt like there was something more comfortable here than there. It was a home, which was much more than just somewhere that kept you safe.

It was more than a house.

“I like comics” he shrugged back, going out on a limb and sitting down beside you, taking another one of his discarded books in his hands, fiddling with the pages instead of looking you in the face.

He felt weird.

This was weird.

“I like you” you grinned, not looking at him as you spoke, your eyes staying trained on the page in your lap. You had no real idea where a statement like that would get you but you couldn’t help yourself.

You did like him.

There was silence between you both for a few more moments as Carl tried to decide what he wanted to do with that information. 

It wasn’t something that surprised him, because you both had been dancing around how you felt for one another, but that didn’t help him know what to do about it.

He didn’t know what he wanted to say or what you wanted to hear.

“I like you too” he smiled, doing his very best to keep his racing heart from stopping completely. This was shaping up to be the first time a girl ever liked him and that was nice, but he was terrified too.

He had never done anything like this before.

“That’s good, cause that would have made this whole thing a lot more awkward” you laughed, reaching out as gingerly as you could to take one of Carl’s hands in your own.

It wasn’t something that was new for either of you, as you held hands on your way up here but for some reason, this was a little different. 

There was something going on, something strange, but you had already decided to leave it go.

It was what it was.

This was what it was.

You wanted to say more, to do more, but before you could, you heard that familiar boisterous laugh of Negan. More than likely, this whole thing was coming to an end, which meant that you would have to leave.

It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you didn’t exactly get a choice in the matter.

“I should probably get going. I’ll see you later” you allowed, reluctantly standing from your spot. You were racking your brain, desperately trying to think of any excuse you could find to stay.

...But there wasn’t one.

There was nothing you could say or do that was going to keep you from having to go back to the Sanctuary at some point.

Thankfully though, before you could get too far away from him, Carl decided that he wasn’t willing to just let you go. He was worried about it, worried about what would happen if he let you walk out that door like this.

He needed you to know just how important this whole thing was to him.

Gingerly, he did all that he could to pull you back down to his side with a hand on your wrist. 

Then, before he could remind himself that this whole thing was a terrible idea, he brought his lips to your own.

You had no idea what to do at first, but immediately found yourself kissing him back. It wasn’t something you saw coming, of course, but you couldn’t have been more glad that it was happening.

This was all you needed.

This whole time, the feelings you had for him were just swirling around in your stomach, nearly making you sick. However, now that you were here, pressed up against the male, you knew everything you needed to.

It didn’t matter that the two of you were on opposite sides of the war, or from completely different worlds. The two of you shared something much more important than that, experience.

You were the same age, living through the same things, and you didn’t even want to underestimate how important that was.

“Woah” you hummed, resting your forehead against his own as you tried to figure out how you were going to make this whole thing work. It was strange, but you knew that it was going to be fine.

You’d make it work.

Even Carl knew that.

He may not have been any good with words, but at least Carl could find it in himself to make a move.

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