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adinafay · 7 months

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I like to think Bhaal spends the entire timeline of BG3 just so incredibly confused and absolutely pissy about why he can't convince anyone - even his most special, Chosen, purest of Bhaalspawn- to murder for simple murder's sake.

Not that Bhaal doesn't appreciate murder more generally, but also how in the hells is he supposed to achieve global-genocide when everyone, even his own idiot kids, keeps using his precious murder as a mere tool, a means to their own ends, ya know?

He has to be a helicopter-parent to Durge about it:

Pre-tadpole Durge is so in-want of connection that they have to be under constant supervision by their specially-assigned butler to try and keep them on task. ("Stop bitching and let me live vicariously through you like all the other sport-parents!")

Then, even that isn't enough to stop them from connecting with Bane's lil shit "Gortash" and eventually starting in with the crown/Absolute plan ("Why in the hells are we using MY MURDER to help fucking Bane with his fucking tyranny?!")

Shortly after that Durge goes and gets merc'd and tadpoled by the other one... ("Have I taught my children nothing!? Orin really should know well by now that it's not 'murder' if they survive...")

... And then - clearly still prone to frivolous connection - they fucking gang up with a bunch of weirdos only to head home with other, new bad habits like "thinking for themselves" and "the apparent intent to entirely trash the plan they insisted on making with Gortash!" ("If you didn't want to play you shouldn't have had me sign you up for the team! Get your ass back in the game! You already got your Deathstalker uniform and everything! Now stop embarrassing me and maybe I'll even give you a slayer form.")

And, while Durge is being a rebellious lil Bhaalspawn, Bhaal also has to contend with:

His cultists, who are apparently killing mostly just for notoriety and/or safety amongst themselves. ("Quit playing around! I assure you I do not give a single fuck which one of you did it or how clean it was so long as the murder(s) did happen.")

Orin, who is playing at being an artist and completely absorbed in her exploration of murder and maiming as novel media to express her innumerable daddy issues ("Yes, I DO still like your lobotomized bloodkin more; at least they never wasted my time asking me to put all their shitty artwork up on the fridge.")

And Bane and Myrkul, who are presumably laughing their godly asses off and/or absolutely raging at Bhaal's inability to keep anyone at heel and how it's interfering with their mutual plan.

TL;DR: Life is hard when you're The God of Murder and neither your employees or your children properly respect the family business and your frenemies mock you for it.

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diejager · 6 months

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price is already like unofficial dad of 141

-so what would platonic! biological, yan! dad price be like

[i pass a cup of hot cocoa and bag of gold to you]

I’ll take that hot cocoa and bag of gold!

Yandere!Dad!Price

Headcanon

Cw: yandere, platonic relationship, protective!Price, stalking, camera surveillance, tracking, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 758

Yan!Dad!Price, as a father-figure to 141, is already burdened with the weight of their safety and protection. He protects them as if they were his own, signing away Soap’s misdemeanour and pranks, Gaz’s mischievous personality under the gentle gaze of his, and Ghost’s stand-offish character with war crimes under his belt. Price is fiercely protective of his charge, so he’d be worse with his biological child.

Yan!Dad!Price is possessive, branding you - in his mind - as his, making sure that you’re safe at all times. He’s borderline paranoid at times, his mind going through every enemy he’s made in the past without prejudice, everyone is a danger to his livelihood, meaning you. As a father, he’s much more protective, always worried and conscious of the danger he puts on you when he leaves.

Yan!Dad!Price worries that one day, someone would find you and use you as leverage against him, torture you and throw you back out as revenge for what he’s done to them, or - the worse - keep you for the sake of causing him pain and anguish. As your father, he’s much, much more paranoid than he is with anyone else on his team, especially since your mother’s been missing from your life for a while now, leaving him to care for you and occasionally leaving you at Kate and her wife’s house.

Yan!Dad!Price isn’t scared of getting his hand dirty, he already does it to further the goals and images of powerful men, political figures and to keep the world clean from monsters by becoming one himself. He knows his hands are stained red, an invincible mark following him until he’s either killed, or dies of natural causes —he hopes for the latter. He might not kill innocent people, but he isn’t scared of threatening them, using his power and resources to keep them away from you.

Yan!Dad!Price might be protective, wanting to keep you to himself and locked away from the harsh and dangerous world, but he’s smart and cares enough about you to let you have your freedom. He lets you go out with friends - you’re an adult, you should have the independence and freedom to do some - and travel, but he gives you a curfew and demands he wants you to keep. So far, you’ve followed them and he trusts you to keep doing so. Although he lets you live your life as a young adult: working, going out, meeting friends and enjoying yourself, he keeps an eye on you, he has a tracker installed into your phone and one on you at all times, he has someone watch you through the cameras to follow your every step and report it to him if there’s a sudden change.

Another thing Yan!Dad!Price has, as insurance to your safety, the three boys protecting you. They’re well acquainted with you, often seeing you wandering the base outside of Birmingham with a visitor’s badge and permission to wander wherever you want. You’re as much a part of the TF as the boys, the honorary member that visits them every so often to see how they’re doing when they’re stationed here. Being a year or two younger than Gaz made them feel like you were the baby of the family, the little sibling that they had to protect and care for whenever they could.

Yan!Dad!Price somehow makes it unnoticeable to you that he has a tracker on you or that he has a system to monitor your every action, you even get regular visits from Kate and the boys, coming over to his house. Soap and Ghost always went together, Ghost’s big and broad figure acting as a deterrent to any malicious people and Gaz would go with him, following him back to stay the night. The house had enough room for everyone too, one guest room in the basement, one on the ground floor and another one near the stairs on the second floor.

Yan!Dad!Price is careful, selective with people he lets around you, all for the sake of protecting you. He won;t let you wander too far from him, he won’t let you go where he won’t be able to reach, where he won’t be able to find you. You’re an indispensable part of his life, the joy of his life, the light that brought a smile to his lips after a rough day or mission. You took care of him so he watched over you and kept you safe.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort

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lighteyed · 7 months

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lovely

spencer reid x reader

[1.9k] you think spencer's lovely.

“What is that?” You extend your hand toward Penelope’s arm as she’s walking past you, tugging her back to stand where you are, your eyes fixed in such a manner that she immediately turns to what your head is tilted toward. You don’t look at her while you say it, your thoughts hazy as your brain begins to short-circuit.

“What is what?” She tries to see what you’re seeing but she doesn’t think she’s looking quite properly, adjusting her glasses as if that’ll paint a clearer picture of your muddled mind. She sees Spencer, at his desk, his own gaze affixed to the papers in front of him, but that’s all she sees in what she can determine as the trajectory of your stare.

You press your mouth into a line and jerk your head toward him, pleading mentally with Penelope to understand what you’re getting at. She doesn’t. She turns back around and looks at you and says, loudly, “All I see is Spencer-“

“For Christ’s sake,” you hiss, covering her mouth with your hand and steering her into her office, the back of your neck hot. You hope to God he hadn’t heard her, too engrossed in his workload to process anything so trivial. You shut the door behind you both with as soft a click as you can manage and peek out the window to make sure his eyes are still on his desk. They are. You take a breath and then place your hands on her shoulders. “Why would say his name so loud?”

“I didn’t know what you were talking about! You were in a daze!” She insists, taking a seat in her chair. She pushes a second one toward you and you accept the offer, placing a hand on your forehead.

“Didn’t you see?” You remain misty-eyed and faraway and Penelope, amused, waves a hand in front of your face.

“See what, my darling?” She gets it now but the older-sisterly affection she feels a twinge of whenever she’s with you wants you to spell it out for her. Everyone on the team has a tendency to tease you, light-hearted, loving, warm teasing, but teasing nonetheless, the new baby of their group.

You gesture in the direction of the bullpen. “He cut his hair.” The way the words fall from your mouth sound wonderfully hopeless and romantic to Penelope’s ears. To yours, you sound pathetic.

“He did,” she nods encouragingly, smiling at you, a laugh threatening to spill out.

“I thought he was really cute before the haircut,” you tell her, turning your eyes up to the ceiling, “but I think I might pass out if I have to stay in a room with him like that. I need him to, like, put on a wig or something, or a hat, before I lose it.” You rub your hand over your face.

“I doubt he’s going to put on a wig,” you place your hands over your eyes, completely and utterly serious, and she really does laugh this time. She’s never seen you malfunction like this. You’re shy, sure, still a bit quiet with the newness of it all, with being the youngest, but you’re sharp, quick, very steady. And it amuses Penelope that it’s Spencer doing it to you. It’s not that he isn’t attractive (Derek calls him pretty boy for a reason), it’s that he’s not really one, so far as Penelope’s seen, to render women incoherent in this way. And you’ve certainly been rendered.

“What if I ask him really nicely?” You lean back in your chair, finding the confines unbearable, unable to make yourself sit still. You flick your gaze toward the door as if he’ll walk in at any second.

“That would require looking him in the eyes,” she says gently.

“That’s out then,” you groan. You twist and find something of Penelope’s to pick up and fiddle with.

“C’mon, it’s Spencer, you should tell him you like him,” she urges. She’s seen the way you look at him, dreamily, almost bursting at the seams with quiet adoration, always listening to him intently to engage in conversation in a way that won’t make you seem completely absurd. When you shake your head, still staring at the toy you’d found safety with, she presses. “He likes you. He does. And if you asked him to wear a wig I think he’d entertain the idea. He’d do anything for you.”

“He does not. He wouldn’t.” You shake your head again and place the toy down.

“Why wouldn’t he? You’re gorgeous, you’re sweet, you’re smart-“

“He’s smarter-“

“He’s smarter than everyone,” she dismisses.

“He’s older,” you continue.

“Not by that much,” she dismisses again. What’s four years, really? Twenty-eight and twenty-four isn’t awful by any means.

“Yeah, but like,” you shift awkwardly. “It might as well be decades. The maturity is different. He probably thinks I’m like a child in comparison. And he’s too smart. He probably thinks I’m dumb-“

“Spencer has never had one bad thought since you came into our lives,” Penelope interrupts, determined. “And don’t stress yourself out. He’s just some guy at the end of the day. And you’re you.”

You know she’s right even if it doesn’t feel like he’s just some guy. Every other guy seemed to pale in comparison. He consistently proved himself to be, besides the obvious genius and maturity, kinder, and gentler, which mattered to you more than most things in a world marred by hatred and unhappiness. You tended to seek that out in men, a softness in the eyes and the words and the touch. Spencer, you’d admit, was never anything but soft with you. You attributed it to the same reason everyone else was, but you wondered if he was, perhaps, even softer. You avoided the thought carefully, always, the desire to keep your hopes and your yearning as abated as possible.

You place your chin in your palm. “You really don’t think he’s ever had a bad thought about me?” Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to think about it a little. “Even when I tripped over his chair coming in and spilled coffee all over his reports?” You’d almost cried about it until his calm hand on the small of your back had given you something more tangible to bind yourself to.

“You realize his chair was only in the way because he was breaking his neck trying to see if you’d come in yet,” Penelope points her pen at you as you shake your head again.

“You’re lying to hype me up!” You lament, taking her accusatory pen out of her hand and placing it down on her desk.

“I would never lie to you!” She gasps. You give her a reproachful look and she amends, “if it wasn’t in your best interest, which, this is, but it’s also not a lie!”

Spencer knocks and enters without waiting for the perfunctory come in, and you find yourself sitting up straighter, smoothing out the wrinkles splayed across your pants as he does so.

“Did I hear my name earlier?” He asks, one hand perched on the doorframe, searching both yours and Penelope’s faces for an answer.

“Hm, I don’t think so,” you say hastily before Penelope can utter anything incriminating, smiling up at him in a way that makes him unable to do anything but smile back.

“Alright,” he touches the back of his neck, trying to think up an excuse to get you to come back to his desk. You’re situated in the one across from him and he, pathetically so, misses you when you stray away for too long. “Do you wanna come look at something for me?” He doesn’t need anyone to look at anything for him ever, so your brows knit together in confusion, and Penelope would roll her eyes at the naiveite if she didn’t find it so sweet.

“Me? But I-“

“Am completely distracting me from my very important work, so it’s best you go with Spencer, sweet pea, so I can actually get things done,” she interrupts, standing up to usher you out without further argument. She can practically feel the heated embarrassment radiating off you as he holds the door open for you to step out of.

At his desk he makes up something for you to look at and hands it to you over the threshold between your two workspaces, but he catches you looking at him more than once and feels the overwhelming sense of insecurity begin to fall in waves around him. He touches his hair awkwardly. He hadn’t thought it looked that bad this morning when he’d styled it differently, he’d cut it just yesterday, too, but he mistook your admiration for aversion and found himself wanting to run to the bathroom and fix it, somehow.

“You think my hair looks weird, too?” He asks, leaning in a bit so he can ask it in a low, insecure tone that no one else will hear. You blink up at him in surprise. Weird was the last way you’d describe the way he looked.

“Weird?” You repeat, the word in conjunction to him unfamiliar in your mouth. He touches it again and you notice his cheeks flush with red.

“Hotch made fun of me. Said I look like I’m in a boyband. I won’t wear it like this again, I promise,” he punctuates the words with a laugh that doesn’t register to you as genuine.

“No!” You practically jump out of your chair to say it, your hands flying up to meet the wood of the desk, overeager. You retreat into yourself again to say, quieter, “you look nice, don’t worry about Hotch. I-I think your hair looks…” you pause, albeit briefly, to consider if it’s what you really want to say, “I think you look lovely, Spence, don’t worry.” You don’t look at him when you say it to supplement the fact that you’re saying it at all, focused on the work in front of you.

“Lovely?” He tries to think of the last time he found himself speechless and he comes up blank. He stares at you with those big eyes of his, pleading that you look up.

You do. His heart twitches at the contact. “Yes, lovely,” you murmur your confirmation, your attempt to avoid eye contact futile as he holds your gaze steadily.

“I always think you look lovely,” he confesses, and just like everything else with him, it’s as gentle as he can manage, detecting your nerves, trying to convey that you never have to be around him.

You pause again, your chest constricting. “Always?”

“Always,” he nods, licking his lips, pushing down his own nerves because he knows he needs to be the brave one here. If he doesn’t make the move you might spend the rest of your time here tiptoeing around each other, love swelled up in your stomachs like balloons fit to burst, words to bring meaning to it dying on your lips. He looks around briefly to determine if anyone around is listening, and he catches them all milling about, away from your desks, allowing him to take a deep breath. “I, um, I was wondering, if maybe you’d want to go on a date with me.” He drums his fingertips on his thigh and waits.

You practically die as he says it, a weight off your shoulders you hadn’t understood you were carrying. “Yes, yes, I would love that.”

“Really?” He looks up and grins, halfway disbelieving, reveling in your beauty, and you nod yes again. Yes, yes, always.

#self-indulgent and random as a motherfucker please bare with me i'm UNWELL #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction

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astrophileous · 7 months

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fem!reader x derek morgan, where they're like really flirty and i mean like kissing, holding hands, reader sits on his lap.

and after a case hotch is like yelling at derek because they had a disagreement, and reader comes in and was like "stop yelling at my best friend!" and he freezes because he genuinely thought that they were dating.

and they get teased n shit, and later reader cant sleep so derek is playing with her hair and he mumbles "i love you." and she says it back, and her words are slurred because shes so tired.

ty for the request honey!! I changed a few details abt it, I hope that's okay?? The main gist is still the same tho so I hope you like this ❤️

Warning(s): fem!reader, profanities, angst a lil bit bcs Derek is having inner turmoil, mutual pining (they're both idiots)

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"It wasn't his fault."

Your voice cut through the silence as an unforeseen rapier. Every pair of eyes in the station fell on you in instinct. You despised the attention with every fiber of your being, but in that moment, there was nothing you wouldn't do to save Derek from being appointed as the fall guy, including offering yourself up as a temporary human spectacle as you stepped forward to where the three men were huddled up.

"Agent (Y/L/N)," Hotch warned in his familiar commanding lull.

"Sweet girl," Derek's voice came a little quieter, "what are you doing?"

You ignored your two fellow teammates as you faced the tall man between them. "I'm sorry, Sheriff. We never intended to overstep your authority. We didn't know the witness was one of our UnSubs when we visited his house. Agent Morgan was only acting in favor of my safety, so really, if there's anyone you should be mad at, it should be me."

The sheriff assessed you with rancorous eyes before turning back towards Hotch. "Get your team under control, Agent. Remember that y'all are a guest here."

With that last message, the sheriff walked away and disappeared into his office. Hotch turned to you and Derek following the sheriff's departure. "We'll talk about this later."

Once Hotch was out of earshot, Derek pulled you towards him. The rest of the station had already returned towards their previous tasks, safe for several pairs of eyes belonging to your other team members who seemed too eager to catch a snippet of your conversation with Derek. Before you could reprimand them, Derek's voice suddenly erupted, "What the hell are you doing?"

You turned your head and frowned. "What?"

"Why did you say all of that stuff to the sheriff, sweetheart?"

"Because it's the truth? You did make that call because you were protecting me, right?"

"I did, but you still didn't need to do any of that. I can take care of it myself."

"Derek—" you sighed, plopping your hand right on top of his shoulder, "—I know you can take care of pretty much everything by yourself, but I don't want you cleaning up my mess just for the sake of our relationship. Let me handle it on my own, okay?"

A hot remark was ready on the tip of Derek's tongue, but the words were soon forgotten when he heard the single word that cut off the circulation completely from his brain. Dumbfoundedly, he stared at you as he said, "Relationship?"

"Well, yeah." You smiled, dragging your hand upward from his shoulder until you were cupping his cheek. "You're my best friend, Derek."

Just as fast as you had flown him to the clouds, you sent Derek plummeting straight towards the ground where he imploded into pieces. The man could barely register the feeling of your lips on his other cheek before he watched you stride away, leaving him standing in the middle of the station like a deer caught in headlights.

"You're my best friend, Derek," Emily teased from where she was standing a few feet away. Behind her, JJ and Spencer were laughing along. "Seriously, why don't you two just make it official already?"

Derek flipped the three of them off, earning another series of laughter from his coworkers before he walked off towards the direction of the pantry. In the back of his head, Emily's question lingered like a shallow wind.

Seriously, why don't you two just make it official already?

Maybe because Derek thought you were official.

But apparently, according to you, you weren't.

So what the hell did that kiss that the two of you shared at the end of your last movie night even mean?

For the rest of the team's stay in Pasco, Florida, the ambiguous status of your relationship became a permanent fixture in Derek's mind. It haunted him even after he boarded the BAU's jet, preparing for the flight back home towards Quantico, Virginia. He was too lost in his own world that he didn't realize you had been calling out his name until your hand touched his cheek.

"Hey, you okay?" you asked worriedly.

Derek was sitting on the long sofa at the end of the cabin; and you, as always, were lying on the same sofa with your head resting on his lap. He still remembered the first time the two of you assumed this habit on the jet, receiving cheeky glances and playful jabs from the rest of the team in the aftermath. The teasing had dwindled significantly by now. Everyone was so used to the sight that it didn't warrant a surprised reaction anymore.

Derek, on the other hand, didn't think he could get accustomed to this.

As he stared down towards your inquisitive eyes, Derek realized that the sight of your face still took his breath away as much as it did the first time he laid eyes upon you. He brought down a finger and ran them up and down your cheek, his heart inflating when you rewarded him with a gleaming smile.

"Wanna come over tonight? We didn't finish that movie last week," you offered.

At the mention of your last movie night, Derek's mind traveled back to the memory of your kiss. It was nothing grand, just a five-seconds heaven where Derek's tongue had tasted remnants of the wine you shared and a little something else that he was sure had uniquely belonged to you. He sealed it with another peck on your forehead after that, wishing you a good night rest and a fantastic dream as he left the comfort of your apartment.

Derek couldn't sleep that night. After all, that was the best kiss the man had ever had in his entire life; but it looked like you hadn't felt the same way as him about it at all.

This knowledge was a stake right through Derek's heart. Everything tasted bitter as he swallowed, and perhaps that was reason enough to why the next words tumbled out of his lips in a reply, "Sorry, sweet girl. I've got errands to run. Next time?"

Derek pretended not to see the way your face collapsed in disappointment at his answer.

Back at his own apartment, Derek proceeded to spend a whole hour flipping through TV channels until his hand was numb. Many of his nights lately were spent in your company, and as the surrounding solitude closed in on him, Derek realized that he didn't remember how to spend nights by himself anymore. He was absentmindedly changing the channel yet again when his finger suddenly stopped frozen on the remote.

Your favorite movie was showing on the TV screen.

Perhaps it was ludicrous to claim that seeing the movie he had always associated with you appear on his TV was a celestial omen, but Derek deemed it an enough sign for him to get his ass off the couch and drove all the way down to your apartment. He stood in front of your door not even twenty minutes later, having sped through traffic as if he were invincible to every threat on the roads. You opened the door for him on the third knock, your eyes blown so widely out of proportion when you spotted him standing on your doorway.

"Derek? What are you doing here?"

"Sweet girl, are you... have you been crying?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me." Derek took two steps forward, closing the front door behind him as he was finally standing inside your apartment. "What's going on, sweetheart?"

His question managed to break the last dam in your ribcage, sending you straight into another flood of uncontrollable tears. You leaped into Derek's arms out of the blue, cramming your face into his chest as your tears soaked the front part of his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Derek. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? What are you sorry for, sweet girl?"

"T-The kiss. We shouldn't have done that. We shouldn't have k-kissed. It was a mistake."

Derek's stomach crashed squarely towards the ground. "A mistake?"

You nodded against his chest, pulling away to stare directly at Derek's face. Your eyes were red and puffy from hours of crying, and yet, Derek still thought you were the most heavenly creature he had ever seen in his entire life.

"That's w-why you've been acting strange, right? The kiss? Y-You're mad at me because of the kiss?"

"Wait. What—"

"I-I didn't... fuck—I didn't mean for everything to come to this. I never meant t-to make you run from me like this. I'm so, so sorry."

"Sweetheart—"

"I can pretend! Please, I can pretend like it never happened. T-That's what you want, r-right? I can forget about the kiss as long as—"

You didn't have the chance to finish your sentence.

Not when Derek suddenly pressed his lips against yours, seizing the words and the breath thoroughly out of your throat.

Butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach. Nothing else mattered in the world except for Derek's hands on your skin and the way his tongue danced with yours as he deepened the kiss even further. You could've spent the rest of eternity kissing him like this if it weren't for the need to come up for air. That was the singular reason why you even agreed to pull away at last, albeit reluctantly.

"Derek?" Your voice was thin and fragile amidst the quietude of your home. "I don't understand... I thought—"

"No, sweetheart," Derek cut you off, leaving a quick peck on your lips because he couldn't help himself. "Remember in Florida when you called me your best friend? I thought that was your way of telling me you regretted the kiss."

"What? So... you weren't mad at me?"

"No, of course not." He scoffed incredulously. "How could I ever be mad at you?"

"I just thought—"

"Hey, look at me." Derek tilted your face by the chin until you were looking directly into his eyes. "I'm yours, (Y/N). Do you understand?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I'm yours, too, Derek. Forever."

Derek spent the night at your home afterward. Although it wasn't the first time he stayed over, something about it felt fresh and brand new as he lay on your bed as officially yours while you lay next to him as officially his. He nuzzled your body flush against him, entangling every inch of your limbs with his own as he listened to the steady intakes and outtakes of your breathing.

"I love you, sweetheart," Derek murmured against your hair, playing with the end of the strands as he heard you let out another tired sigh. "You know that, right?"

"Hmm? I love you, too," you mumbled blearily, burrowing yourself deeper into his warmth before sleep finally took over your whole being.

Safe to say, you had the best sleep that night than you ever did in your entire lifetime.

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juyomiao · 1 year

Text

Only ONE - S. HANBIN

sung hanbin x gn!reader smau

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

☆ SYNOPSIS: sung hanbin is everyone's dream guy: perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, he has it all. he's even class AND student council president! everyone loves him, and you, as his vice-president, are no exception to that. having been in love with him since you were 12, you try to tone down your feelings "for the sake of professionalism" and claim it's simple admiration for someone who objectively has no flaws. but there is one small detail you missed, in all these years admiring him: he has an even bigger crush on you.

☆ featuring: various boys planet trainees , kim chaehyun from kep1er

☆ genre: smau , high school au , fluff , crack , some angst , is 'clueless idiots who dont realize their feelings are reciprocated' a genre ? i hope so

☆ warnings: kys/kms jokes , (joking) death threats n everything along those lines , swearing , my shitty humor that is only funny to me n like 2 other people , i have no idea how 'normal' high schools work so i made up my own school system bc why not 🤩 , the ages r a mess but we r going to act like they r not ‼️‼️ , chae being a man hater lesbian (as she should) (if u r not comfortable with this kind of humor this is my last warning for u) , english isn't my first language

☆ status: completed !

☆ updates: once a week , twice if im not depressed , never if im depressed

☆ taglist: CLOSED‼️

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MASTERLIST

profiles [y/n's babygirls] [sung hanbin's presidential election team]

01 _ oh no hes delusional

02 _ pack it up le sserafim

03 _ redacted

04 _ i know you know i know

05 _ detective hanbin on the case

05.5 _ taerae's kitchen

06 _ delusion²

07 _ well

08 _ that's what she said

09 _ (in)direct kiss

10 _ love triangle 🏳️‍🌈‼️

11 _ internet safety for children

12 _ cocaine bear requiem

13 _ ding dong the wicked witch is dead

14 _ extramarital relationship

15 _ i will never forgive you sung hanbin

16 _ one punch man

17 _ love bomb

#im so nervous posting this #idk why #boys planet #sung hanbin #boys planet x reader #boys planet scenarios #boys planet smau #boys planet fic #boys planet social media au #boys planet fluff #☆ li writes #☆only one☆#zb1 smau #zb1 fluff #zb1 scenarios #zb1 x reader #zb1 #zerobaseone

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yandere-kokeshi · 6 months

Text

Yandere Kate Laswell Headcanons

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about kidnapping, and some violence.

A/N: This lady makes me feral; I’d honestly love requests about her <3. Please enjoy!

Kate is obsessive & possessive. Protective at the same rate, and often snarls underneath her breath when people treat you rudely. She’s the type of person to manipulate the world around you, forming a ‘good outlook’ to ensure you fall for her and her only.

With how you two met, there are a lot of possibilities. The most sense would be you being a civilian, possibly a bartender at a famous bar she had met when she’d gone with John and the team, being confident enough to be flirting with you; finding your smile, comfortable attitude, and your features to be beautiful.

Or you could be a florist, an individual that suggested the same flowers she had gotten for Price after a mission, your words of the flower being for ‘healing’. She stayed later than she would’ve liked, but quite honestly, she didn’t seem to care. Because, every time, she kept coming back; buying more flowers for her sake only. Seeing you smile, especially at her compliments, had her hands sweating like a damn teenager.

Lastly, in a rare chance, you could be in the military; a medic or soldier working under Price. But, with her quick wit and bold voice, you’re likely pulled out for ‘reasons’. Of course, both of you knew how hard and dangerous the job was– her obvious worries as a friend nitpicking at your conversations. Her fretting voice asking questions on the phone after you came back from a mission, asking to come over to ensure your safety.

Either way, you’ve caught the attention of Kate Laswell, a woman of authority and order. She’d reveal her feelings normally, telling you that she adores you, loves you more than her heart can fill, and how she wants to spend the rest of her life with you. And, within that, she’s now spitting orders, making sure your life is easy and stress-free.

Upfront within the relationship, both of you immediately get married; she’s already calling you her spouse within months of the relationship. Once you two are officially married, Kate asks you to get a more private job; something more home alike. She finds it perfect that you could work at home, as she could too. Both of you work in the same space, where she can watch you.

The relationship is natural and slow — but behind the scenes, everything is different. She’s colder, ensuring your safety and information is kept secret, and that everyone respects you like how she’s respected. Everyone has their dirty clothes that they need to care for, and she does it in her own way.

Despite it being a ‘normal’ relationship, she’s insanely protective. Which only resorts to her putting secret cameras and listening devices everywhere, especially on you. During her lunch break, she listens to your everyday duties; smiling at your laughter, or scoffing when the dick-of-an-employee flirts with you. Of course, without your knowledge, a tracker is placed on the back or your neck — your discomfort being placed as a muscle-strain, which she only massages out with her cold, calloused hands.

Kate is incredibly loving, always trying to find time for you; wanting to sit right next to you, arms inline with yours. But with her work, it’s difficult and hard to determine when she’ll be good at spending time with you without interruption– so, she goes down the information route, always watching you with CCTV.

She finds your routines cute, watching in her office on how you swiftly fold clothes, and equally forgetting the basket beside your bed by the timer of your microwaved food. Whatever you do, Kate is watching — a smile on her face, adoring you.

Would never hurt or kill someone, especially if you knew them. But, when it comes down to getting rid of nuisances, she uses her work as intimidation, and the point of termination for their reputation and job as a favor.

A friend you once knew, backstabbing you out of the blue? They’re put into jail for stealing their company’s money, harassment added to their public file.

Your boss being a prick, telling you to work harder, not smarter? He’s terminated for harassing his employees. Kate only gets her revenge — not hard feelings, right? She’s just protecting you.

Surprise to no surprise, the only person who knows about your existence would be Price, Nikolai, and TF-141. Other than the team hearing her talk about you (the moment with Gaz), Price occasionally asking how you are, most people don’t even know you exist; your very social life becoming quiet since she’s been with you.

Laswell is one not to kidnap — she’d hate to strip you of your freedom, watching you un-trust her, and force you to stay home. Because of this, she lists strict rules she expects you to follow. Her job is dangerous, and she’d hate for you to get hurt. So why not listen to her, yeah?

Punishments don’t really exist, however, she does get mad at you, and her manipulation and guilt-tripping only doubles in size when you do something that upsets her.

Such as shutting off your 24/7 location, not responding to her messages within a few hours, or simply not keeping her up to date of what’s going on at home. When angry, Laswell becomes demanding, and it’s not a pretty sight. She would never hurt you, but instead using her job, and your safety, as an excuse for you to stay home. Yes, she will raise her voice, and yes will say ‘mom’ things (ex. Don’t walk away from me, this conversation is important, etc.), but she’s only saying those things to protect you.

Within her reach of affection, she’s very domestic and vanilla, but also very demanding in her own way.

When kissing, she grasps your chin very gently and pecks your lips so gently that you want more. She’s also huge on hugging, especially when she comes home; she gives the good kind where she hugs deploy on your lower back, fingers slipping inside your shirt, and asking how your day went.

Kate isn’t big on PDA, the less attention she attracts in public, the better. She’s very keen on the domestic outlook in private: exchanging cheeky smiles when reading books, coming up behind you with a back-hug when it’s your turn to cook dinner. Or, when passing by you, she’ll give you a peck on the neck/or cheek; maybe a butt grab if she’s feeling risky for that morning.

Big on acts of service — doing the dishes and laundry when it’s a lazy Sunday, easily making you an extra cup of your drink when you’re doing at-home work. Or, making you a good batch of lunch when you’ve forgotten to eat; a kiss to the cheek, and to the temple as a silent ‘love you’.

If you’re close to your family, Kate is the definite wife that’ll keep your household busy. Every time she visits, you can guarantee she’ll keep your dad occupied. If you have any cousins, or little siblings, she tries to engage, but isn’t all that fond of children.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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meatonfork · 1 year

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Thank you so much for fulfilling my platonic TF141 dreams!!, you can't imagine how bad i need a platonic relationship with them and how hard it's to find similar content for god's sake you're a true saviour 💗 If your RQs are open can i ask for a teenage/young adult reader (17-21)? Where the reader was a hostage before they got rescued by the TF141 and for some reason the reader has to stay with them temporarily for their own safety? I can see the reader bonding with them like some kind of family after the reader was closed off bc of Thier trauma, I also imagine the team giving the reader some kind of code name as a way to make them feel welcomed 💗

thank you for this idea! so lovely, i hope this is up to your needs! :’)

———————————————————————————————————————

Found Family

pairings: platonic 141 x grim

warning: hostage situation, grim is scared of big storms, usual cod violence

summary: the story of grim’s call sign, and how they joined tf141

———————————————————————————————————————

you were only 17 when you enlisted. you felt an obligation to your, now dead, family to serve. to help protect others.

you later found it to be one of the best decisions ever made. pretty smart if you asked yourself.

but, at the time you were constantly overlooked because of your small stature.

for about a year, you never had a call sign. just your last name. it never really bothered you, until now.

now you were caught in a stupid safe house after a task force had to come get you after being captured mid-mission.

they were all nice, except the guy with the skull mask. he didn’t talk much.

a large storm had stopped the team and yourself from being able to leave the area. your next best option was some safe house that ghost knew of.

trekking through the woods in a huge storm with minor injuries- cuts, scrapes, and bruises, was the last thing you wanted to do. but, you really didn’t have a choice.

“what happened to you, kid?” price’s voice was raised so you could hear him over the wind.

“fuckin’ teammate threw me back towards the enemy. got caught.” you were pissed, and your tone made that clear.

price nodded, letting out a hum.

“you got a call sign yet?” soap’s voice cut in this time.

“nah. no one bothered to give me one.” you shrug, but it secretly bothered you. you were the only one in your squad without one.

“you’ll get one soon, don’t worry.”

you nodded and continued following ghost.

a loud clap of thunder made you jump. you lost your footing, but ghost’s large hand quickly snapped out and grabbed your arm.

“you good?”

“yeah. hate storms.”

“we’re all scared of somethin’.” his tone wasn’t comforting, but you tell he was trying to be.

“yeah, i know.”

you finally made it to the safe house, quickly rushing to the bathroom to change out of your soaked clothes.

walking out, you saw everyone sitting on a couch, also changed. you joined them, sitting in a chair, making yourself comfortable.

gaz quickly spoke up, “how you feelin’ now?”

“warmer. definitely war-“ another clap of thunder interrupted you.

“you’re good, just a storm.” he offered a reassuring smile, but it didn’t do much to calm your nerves. your small hands unconsciously started to shake.

“let’s come up with a call sign, yeah?” soap could see your nerves from a mile away. hell, if he tried hard enough he could probably smell them.

“uh, yeah. sure!” you smiled softly at him, tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear.

“you got any strong character traits? embarrassing stories?”

“uhhh… no.” you frowned. “i mean, im pretty small, obviously, but i don’t want to be known for it. you lot can already see it.” your voice wavered slightly as the storm continued raging. rain beat down on the windows like a continuous line of drums.

“yeah, that’s reasonable. hmm.” this time gaz tried making names for you.

this continued for a long while, usually ending in laughs at how ridiculous their ideas were.

ghost even chimes in with ‘bee’ because you were so small, but seemingly could hold yourself, but your distaste for them quickly shut that down.

“oh! one time, on a mission, my squad ran into some real trouble. we couldn’t get backup, it was too compromised. we were stuck in this warehouse, the enemy had us cornered. only me and one other teammate were in the room. we got split off. anyway, he was injured bad. like, on the verge of death, bad.” you were talking animatedly. hands moving about and face scrunching. the boys sat quietly. this was the most you’ve talked, having been too nervous all night.

“he couldn’t do much to help us. i was just a rookie, little experience, but enough to get by with backup. when i saw at least five men coming up to us, i panicked. i guess i just stopped thinking. i blacked out, don’t remember much. but when i clocked back in, my partner looked terrified, yet amazed.” your voice was growing softer.

“there was blood everywhere. i couldn’t tell what was mine or their’s. all he said was, ‘jesus. that was fucking grim. you good?’ i think about it quite often.” your movements slowed, and your eyes glazed a bit.

“damn, kid. i think i found a name for ya.” ghost finally chimes in. a chuckle left price.

your small figure, curled in a ball, looked at all the men. most held amusement. amused that someone that small had the ability to take out so many men.

“glad to meet ya, grim.” soap’s smile was large.

“nice to meet you lot, too.” you gave one back.

———————————————————————————————————————

a/n: thanks for reading!! hope you enjoyed <3

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #soap #john soap mactavish x reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish #john price x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #cod mw2 #cod #cod mw2 imagine #grim au

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wosowrites · 10 months

Text

For Her Safety (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

warnings: swearing

prompt: in which you get tackled horrifically during a dirty game by an irish player and jessie is furious.

a/n: by the way I LOVE Katie so much she just does these things for the sake of the story.

Bev had given you all a talk days before the Ireland game. It went something along the lines of "Katie McCabe plays dirty. She's brilliant, she's tough, she's dangerous, she will do anything to win, including taking your ankles out." The gaffer warned you all to be careful but not back down, to fight but not let her have any reason to hold a grudge against you. But mostly she emphasized that you had no control over the irishwoman, and that the only thing to do was hold her off.

When the Irish scored in the fourth minute you knew you had time, you knew you had the skill, but you also had a new found sense of worry. That goal was lucky. You cant mark someone taking a corner. She scored a good goal by accident, but a good goal nonetheless. And then it was Julias turn. It was Canadas turn to get lucky.

Right before half, Julia crossed the ball in from the left side and into the far right corner. An Irish defender tried to deflect it, but it went into her own net. You screamed your lungs out, running to Julia and hugging her and Jordyn closely. The Canadians formed a mob of joy before the half time whistle blew, but you all knew that you couldn't perform like the first half in the second.

And you didn't.

The real Canada came into the light in the second half, you were pressuring the Irish box, making passes, tackles, smart plays and taking shots, but the next goal came in the 53' minute. You were desperate to get on the score sheet as the striker, and when you saw a cross coming into the left corner just out of your reach and just a little too low, you knew what you had to do.

Throwing yourself in the direction of the ball head first, you made contact and sent the ball slamming into the back of the net along with yourself. You slid into the Irish net and quickly got up, running towards the only person you wanted to celebrate this goal with. Jessie Fleming. Her arms were outstretched as your body connected with hers in a hug at the top of the box. You wrapped your arms around her waist and laughed as Sophie, Jordyn, Sincy, and the entire of your team crashed into the hug as well. But the only person who mattered to you in that moment was Jess. Jess, your beautiful, perfect girlfriend and her shining, proud brown eyes.

The first foul on you came only minutes later, you were running down the wing, having switched momentarily with Jordyn. You got to the left edge of the box when Katie started marking you, jockeying and holding you off until support came. You moved up to her slowly, keeping the ball controlled and then faked going left before taking a small touch to the right past the irishwoman. But before you could get the ball again, Katie's leg stuck out and wiped your feet from under you. You barely had any time to react, already having been low due to the position you were in to change sides quickly, the fall made it that your head smashed into the turf without your arms to support them. You sat up quickly, your arms wide and the slight feeling of blood going down your face from your nose. You didnt care though, choosing instead to stand up and demand that the referee give Katie a yellow... which she didn't.

"You're kidding me, right?" another voice said. Jessie had closed in on you, Katie and the referee. "She stuck her foot out and made her fall on her face shes getting a card," Jessie said, her eyes cold and fixated upon McCabe. "You're not the referee, Fleming," the woman said. "Jessie just leave it," you said softly, putting your hand on her stomach to try and get her to back away. She probably would have if Katie hadn't sassed her.

"Yeah, you're not the ref," she taunted. This made the midfielder have other ideas. She pushed forwards and into Katie so that their faces were barely apart from each other. "Say that again, huh? I swear I see you touch her one more time and you'll be off this pitch in a stretcher," Jessie threatened.

Somehow, throughout the commotion between both teams, no medics had come for your nose. A big clump of players had formed, the green behind Katie, pulling their captain away and the white trying to put themselves between the two captains. Due to the big group of people and the loudness, the referee ended up not hearing anything that was being said, so a free kick was awarded and that was that.

However your nose was still bleeding like crazy and your jersey was soiled. Your head felt light and Jessies head snapped towards you as she saw you sit down on the grass again. The Canadian waved over medics and kneeled next to you, pushing back your baby hairs swiftly. "You're hot when you're mad," you winked at her. "You're hot when your nose is bleeding," she winked. "Dont lie," you rolled your eyes at her. "I'm not," she said almost hungrily. It made your heart skip a beat.

But then the medics were there with some towels and ushered you off the field just for the time it took to change your jersey and stop the bleeding. And then you were back on, but Katie was still angry.

The second foul on you came due to a slide tackle you had done to her. You had honestly tried to get the ball but ended up clipping her ankles. Not enough to injure her but enough to piss her off.

You were quick to stand up yourself, apologize and offer her your hand but she refused it, jumping up on her own and pushing you to the ground with a loud cuss word. You sat there, slightly stunned with your hands up in submission, but what made you stand back up was Jessie rushing towards you both, followed by a worried looking Vanessa Gilles and Quinny. You were quick to place yourself between Jessie and Katie. You grabbed onto Jessies waist with one arm and turned to Denise O'Sullivan. "Get her away from us O'Sullivan, she's not big but she stings," you yelled at the woman, referring to Jessie. Denise led her captain away and you watched as you got booked.

Before Jessie could argue with the ref, you gave her a stern look and took the yellow card. The game ended 2-1 which you were thankful for, but somehow McCabe still had it in her to argue.

As you shook hands with the opponent, Katie was closing the line and so were you. She stopped you by putting her hand on your stomach and pushing you in the slightest. "You play just as dirty as me you're just better at hiding it," she whispered in your ear. You rolled your eyes at her before moving away. "Whatever, I'm gonna go talk to my girlfriend now because I still have one," you scowled, knowing immediately you should not have said that. You walked away from her and towards Jessie who was looking more calm and concerned now instead of angry and on edge. "What did she say?" your girlfriend asked. "Nothing, just banter," you answered.

The next time you saw Katie, she was being booked. You had no clue for what because the game had been over for about five minutes now. You exchanged a look with Jessie and burst out laughing, clapping your hands together as the Irish ignored you.

The locker room was happy but full of knowledge that you all collectively needed to perform better versus Australia.

Once you got into the bus it was late and dark outside. Your hair was wet from shower water instead of rain and you cuddled up beside your girlfriend in the bus. "It's cute when you get all protective," you said to her, nuzzling into her shoulder. "It's cute when you put your arms out to stop yourself from almost breaking your nose," Jessie answered, making you let out a short, loud laugh. "Okay Fleming," you rolled your eyes.

Jessie looked down at you and you shifted to look up at her so that she could place a small, sweet kiss on your lips. She closed her eyes and so did you, knowing that you had a couple hours of sleep before taking a plane back to Melbourne.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #jessie fleming #canwnt #katie mccabe #chelsea fcw

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

Note

super duper congratulations on 5k, you absolutely deserve each and every one lovely ! i’m sure you’ve got a ton already, but at the suspiciously low number of soap requests, may i ask for an enemies to lovers ? perhaps in a ‘constantly-butting-heads-to-the-point-where-everyone-around-them-is-bashing-their-skull-in-from-annoyance’ to lovers sense. and maybe a dash of forced proximity? i know he’s a literal ball of sunshine, but i will enemies to lovers-fy any character i can get my hands on and you do the trope justice every! time!! of course, only if you would like to, sending love! <3 xx

—A Song of Gnashing Teeth

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [There was never a day where the two of you weren't butting heads - everyone was at their wit's end. Of course, you would both be forced to cooperate at some point.] ❞

“Stop moving,” the command comes in from your right ear, fizzling in and out as the connection pops. The comms were spotty in the higher altitudes, and even as the sweat stuck to your skin and the bugs buzzed, it still tried its best to come through.

Just as you were trying your best not to snap.

“I’m not moving, Captain MacTavish,” you ease out. “I’m lined up.”

Sniping in South America was the mission for the next two months—targets lined up with terrorist connections that needed to be six feet under per Shepherd’s orders ASAP. Two teams had been sent out, but only to work together for this instance. Yours, obviously, and the second belonging to a man you’d not seen in years.

The taste was still bitter in your mouth when you were around him, though.

“Don’t lie to me, Dearie—scope’s shakin’ more than a drunk after his sixth bottle.” Your eyes glare ahead, a sneer building slowly over your lips.

“You’re one to talk?” You scoff, dense foliage swaying as you focus on the head of one of your targets. Your men listen intently over the line as the two Captains bicker—all in the town below waiting to do a snatch-and-grab of one of the individuals you would need to interrogate. “Moscow, Russia, five years ago,” you speak in clipped sentences. “Target in her penthouse. White curtains swaying in the breeze. What do you do, Soap? Oh, that’s right,” you growl, “you shoot the damn marble statue thinking it was her after two bottles of shit wine.”

There’s a click of a tongue over the line. A smirk easily heard that leaves you fuming.“I remember I happened to be a bit distracted that day, Hen. Not as much as you, though, aye?”

“Only thing I was distracted by,” you flick off your sniper rifle’s safety, undisturbed by the blatant insinuation. “Was your ability to not fucking see clearly.”

A low grumble wafts out, cutting the line a few times.

Your joined unit all seem to try and stop their hands from slapping their faces in annoyance—the connection heavy with tension and anticipation. Whoever decided it was smart to put the two of you together either thought it would be funny, or they hoped you could both get past your own egos for the sake of the mission.

As if.

“I’m taking the shot,” you sigh. “Team One—get ready to intercept the second target on my go.”

For once, the Scot seems to agree with you, voice coming back to that serious gruff bark. “Two, keep the area locked down; no need to let the others get too excited and pop off shots. Save our arses the trouble.”

You let your finger slip down to the trigger, eye open and stance relaxed—taking into account distance and wind as you level to notch three.

“On my go,” you say again, the comms lighting up with affirmatives. “Three…two…” Your finger squeezes just as, “Go,” is muttered into the air.

In the scope, you watch the head of your target explode into a mess of blood in black and white, the spray flying into the air like rain only to fall once more as the body drops.

The conjoined teams do as they’re told, moving in the middle of chaos to grab at the second mark—one needle to the neck later, and it’s a limp form that they drag into the back of an awaiting van.

“Mission success. Pack it up and let's get goin’.” John’s voice breaks you out of your focus, letting you blink at the disappearing van before you shift your head away entirely, taking a low breath. “Shepherd’ll have new orders.”

“‘Course he will,” you grunt, moving to push up into your knees and crack your back.

It’s only after a moderate hike back into the woods that you see him waiting, having trekked back from his perch as well, through bugs and branches. The rifle is slung over your back, just as his is loosely held in front of him.

“John,” you mutter in greeting, slapping away a mosquito. Blue eyes glance your way, scar moving as a smirk meets your eyes. He never changed—even that mohawk is still the same. A disheveled dog down to the bone in his mouth.

“Dearie,” a firm nod is leveled. “Nice shot, then.”

“Ironic,” your head tilts, slowing as you meet him a few feet separated. A silence settles like steel to the hard floor, the long pause that draws on tension as a tight cord.

John clears his throat, watching you as your eyes narrow, brow twitching.

He steps once more towards you with one foot, leaning in.

“I suppose this is where I wait for you to slap me,” he tilts his head, still smirking.

“I’m thinking about it,” you draw, blinking slowly. “Don’t tempt me, MacTavish. I don’t need disorderly conduct and assault on my record.”

“Done worse.” You scowl.

“You’re acting like you want me to do it, damn freak.”

“I’m just saying I’d be expecting it, is all.” Smooth chuckles waft out as your hand waves in exasperation, walking forward. It’s only after you’re about to move into the trees and disappear from view that he calls once more to you.

Your feet slow, but don’t stop.

“I really did miss you.” Eyelids moving just a tiny bit wider, your lips thinned out. Boots shuffle in the grass from behind you. “Thought you’d come back eventually, aye?”

You stay silent, body still near the sentinels of old tree trunks.

The parting of the two of you could have gone better—there were some things that couldn’t be fixed. You’d always be at each other’s throats, needless of missions or personal matters.

You look over your shoulder to lock with digging blues—the structure of John’s face always seared into your mind so much so you could draw it even if years had passed.

“You never gave me a reason to stay.”

He blinks in surprise, but you’ve already shifted away, heart pinched.

“Good working with you, Captain,” you say, already gone. Memories linger in the air, suffocating you. Your eyes close tightly, and you grit your teeth. “Call me if you need me.”

A shout echoes above the yells from the town far into the distance, meeting your ears.

“I plan on it!”

You huff under your breath, but your skipping heart betrays you.

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shivasdarknight · 10 months

Text

OTW reprimands & punishes volunteer of color for speaking out against racist practices

If you at all care about the working conditions of OTW volunteers, then you must be made aware of what OTW just did to one of their volunteers of color.

You can view the entire piece here - which I highly encourage you to - as it's the letter sent to volunteer, Dhobi Ki Kutti, as apart of the first steps of Constructive Corrective Action Procedure (CCAP). In effect, it is OTW punishing Kutti for speaking out against the racist practices of OTW towards their own volunteers.

Please read the full letter if you can for the full context. I'll post a few excerpts from the letter + Kutti's response. It should go without saying, but what OTW has sent to Kutti is deeply inappropriate given that Kutti has been speaking out against the racist treatment of their volunteers of color. To reprimand and punish Kutti for speaking out against this is extremely telling of where OTW stands in regards to anti-racist practices, and have shown that they are willing to maintain a space that is hostile towards their volunteers of color for the sake of their white volunteers' and board members' comfort.

For the letter itself, key highlights include:

-Accusing Kutti of publishing confidential internal documents:

Several volunteers have also reached out to us with concerns that you have shared the contents of internal communications publicly in violation of the Wrangling Communication Policy. As you agreed when joining the Tag Wrangling team, [Link to How_to_talk_about_wrangling_in_public redacted] specifically prohibits the posting of internal communications externally which have not been made available to the public. "Broad topic discussion is acceptable, but giving specific details or copy/pasting quotes from mailing list e-mails or Slack rooms to public spaces is not. Doing so may be subject to CCAP or immediate dismissal.” This includes quoting internal conversations or emails directly. It seems that you've been in violation of this policy a number of times over the last month or so in posts where you have made a point of referencing and posting internal communications or quoting conversations externally. The specific incident cited to us in several reports is in regards to the comment you made on this post: https://www.transformativeworks.org/the-otws-commitment-to-safety-responding-to-recent-concerns-about-ao3/ The concerns that have been relayed to us include the way that particular violation of policy has impacted the volunteers' well-being. Your willingness to share internal details publicly has made them feel disconcerted and unsafe. Some have also said that they feel their privacy has been invaded.

-Made volunteers "uncomfortable" for discussing "tense topics" (it's clear that they mean racism)

Additionally, while this is not a policy violation, a number of volunteers have informed us they feel that the way you have repeatedly brought up tense discussions in public rooms has made the work environment unpleasant. While we agree that the issues you’ve highlighted are important, many are things that can’t be addressed quickly, and will require a lot of time and effort from the org. We don’t want you to feel that conversations about change are unwelcome, but we would ask that you be more understanding of the fact that not everyone wants to participate in them. We also want you to understand that the changes you’re asking for require an immense amount of work from volunteers who already have an existing workload. All in all, these aspects of your behavior of late have generally made other volunteers feel unsafe, stressed, and uncomfortable. It has also made Slack a considerably less pleasant environment for those who have reached out to us, making it more difficult for your fellow volunteers to communicate on the platform, and impacting both their mental well-being and their desire to actively volunteer with the OTW while it continues.

-Actions against Kutti:

Actions:

- Due to an abundance of caution, cease linking to social media posts which may, however unintentionally, link the fannish and real identities of volunteers within the OTW together. - Do not quote or cut and paste sections of documents, email communications, or internal conversations into external conversations or public forums. - Do not summarize internal communications for external spaces. Internal communications are not, and should not be, considered material that can be shared elsewhere (even in summary form) if they have not been released publicly by the OTW. The fact that this is something you have been doing consistently over the past month or so is a large part of what is contributing to some of your fellow volunteers feeling unsafe. - If you wish to ask a question about a particular social media post or comment on a post, and feel it is necessary to link the post or comment for reference, email committee chairs rather than posting in the Slack public rooms. - Be more cautious about how you link things, and consider whether links to other posts are really necessary when asking your questions. You will not be welcome to continue to volunteer with the tag wrangling committee if you cannot be considerate and respectful of the needs of your fellow volunteers. We hope you will take the concerns of your fellow volunteers seriously and adjust your approach going forward to take those concerns and their well-being into account. We also hope you will strive to be respectful of your fellow volunteers’ time and boundaries.

Kutti's response:

-Permission to repost and quote:

I am waiving my right to confidentiality and posting the entirety of the CCAP text below this, so that other volunteers can decide for themselves whether your actions are warranted or not. I also give permission for anyone to share this text and my response to it here, along with my org handle, in any public internet location they wish to disseminate it to.

-Response to the actions taken against them:

For my part, I had not expected the organisation would provide me such a blatant example of racist retaliation, but clearly, I had not set the bar low enough. I reject the authority of white people in positions of structural power in this organisation to punish me—a volunteer of colour trying to hold you accountable for your structural racism—by intimidating me and placing restrictions regarding my participation in OTW communication channels.

-Regarding the accusations of breaking the confidentiality policy:

I reject a cultist confidentiality policy that denies volunteers any opportunity to provide citations to back up claims of abusive organisational practises. The only quotes I have publicly posted are from official statements made by the Board and Chairs to all volunteers, and I shared them in response to a post where the official organisation statement was denying an accusation of insufficiently protecting its volunteer base. As a member of said volunteer base, I have the right to provide proof of my own experience. You have accused me of violating the confidentiality policy a number of times, without providing any other citations. Because I have been entirely focussed on demanding accountability within the organisation, it is very easy for me to enumerate any public comments I have made (copies of which I have recorded here: https://dhobikikutti.dreamwidth.org/). If you consider me citing my own words, voiced in internal channels, to be violating my own confidentiality then... you have overstepped, because I gave myself permission to ‘violate’ my own privacy.

-Regarding OTW referring to Kutti's discussions of racism as a "threat" to volunteers:

I reject your framing of my actions as a threat to individual volunteers. Anyone who will look at the history of my comments will understand immediately where the false accusation of me ‘outing’ a volunteer comes from, and can also find the evidence of the volunteer themselves linking the identity in question. I can say much more about the racialised double standards that this accusation is a part of, but it is obvious that you don’t actually think I outed anyone. Because, as the CCAP makes a point to reiterate, this is cumulative action being taken for everything I have said over the past month. That my comments have made the atmosphere ‘tense’ and ‘unpleasant’. That I have made multiple volunteers feel ‘stressed,’‘disconcerted and unsafe’, to the extent that I have affected their mental well-being. I am not ‘considerate and respectful’ enough to be welcome as a volunteer.

-Regarding Kutti's actions going forward:

I will make no statement of victim impact regarding what my experience as a hypervisible person of colour speaking out against racism in this organisation has been, because I know that you do not care. For the record, I have filed no complaint against any individual volunteer because my focus has always been calling out the institutional patterns of racialised inequity and hostility. I will continue to document this organisation’s racism till you suspend me, and afterwards. I will always be open to hearing from current and former volunteers of colour, and I will continue to maintain the confidences of people who trusted me.

-Important final words:

The Organisation for Transformative Works has been weaponising its incompetence since its inception to argue that it is not racist, merely hapless. This CCAP is evidence that despite all the issues that plague the official machinery— when it feels a sense of urgency and desperation to lash out at someone, it is, in fact, right up there with the best of liberal white institutions at performing racism masked in policing.

Again: please see the full letter & response.

This is deeply inappropriate behavior on the part of OTW. To the people insisting that if fans of color should volunteer if they want to see/make any substantial change: this is what happens when volunteers of color try to make substantial change to the organization. Their volunteers are already at risk because they don't do a good job of ensuring their safety in a general sense, but their VOCs are at an increased risk of racist harassment within the organization from white volunteers, attacks from people outside of the organization, and apparently from the organization itself!

OTW has made its stance known that it will not support its more vulnerable volunteers, and will side with white volunteers who report VOCs because they feel "threatened" by discussions of racism. Telling FOCs to just volunteer is asking them to be subjected to the same reprimanding and punishment that Kutti has just experienced.

#otw #our transformative works #ao3 #end otw racism #eotwr #racism #original #important

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supercap2319 · 4 months

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What would happen if Justice Lord Superman came and tries to take Y/N because he lost his Y/N to Luthor and promises to "protect" and love Y/N better than Justice League Superman?

Despite what others may think, Superman of Earth-50 wasn't a bad guy, just hurt too many times and he let it slide without going unpunished. But after President Luthor killed his Y/N, the Justice League conquered their earth after Superman killed Luthor in retaliation. Curbing free speech, democracy and rebellion for the sake of "safety" and "order".

It was interesting to note that Batman found an earth similar to theirs. One where their Flash was alive, and more importantly, Y/N. Clark and the other Lords examined this earth and all that they stood for. It was inevitable that this earth would be doomed to destruction if someone didn't save it from themselves.

The Justice Lords appeared on Earth-1 of this universe and planned on saving it like they saved their own world. So, while the others went in search of the so-called "heroes" of this earth, Justice Lord Superman searched for Y/N. He found him in the apartment of the other Superman. He flew down to the balcony and when he saw him, his knees started to buckle. He was here and alive. Clark couldn't believe how much he looked like his Y/N had. Right down to the same ugly fuzzy slippers Clark bought him.

When Y/N saw him, he smiled and threw his arms around the man he thought was his Superman. "You're back! That was fast. Did everything go ok? Why the sudden change to your costume?"

Justice Lord Superman smiled. "The others and I thought we needed a change, but it's not safe for you here, Y/N. Something is coming and I have to get you somewhere safe."

"But I don't understand what could possibly be so dangerous that you have to–"

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Y/N and Justice Lord Superman turned to see this earth's Superman floating by the balcony, arms across his broad chest and eyes glowing red. Y/N looks shocked. There were two Supermans? How was that possible? Justice Lord Superman put a hand out in front of Y/N. "He's coming with me. My team and I can protect him better than you or your heroes can. I can love him better than you can."

Superman growled and surged forward as he tackled Justice Lord Superman out of the apartment, and away from Y/N.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #superman #Superman x male reader #henry cavill #Henry Cavill x male reader #clark kent #Clark Kent x male reader #justice league #justice lords #dceu

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babsisbakery · 4 months

Text

A Lions fight part 2

Leah williamson x reader

The last group games were today. All or nothing. Qualification or “failure”. The ones who made it would celebrate, while other players' dreams would be crushed leaving them frustrated with their own performance, not happy of themself. But sometimes that's football. A big part of the game is to learn how to pick up the shattered hopes to build them back up. To not give up easily. Staying strong when tough times arise and having your teams back no matter what.

Currently, you and your girlfriend are in the stands. England vs Scotland while the Netherlands played Belgium. Of course you’d watch the Lionesses game live, your girlfriend is their captain after all. That didn’t prevent you from checking your phone every few minutes to check the score of the other match. Honestly you’d be content with either team qualifying, you had people on both teams to cheer on. Sadly they cannot both qualify.

For the sake of your sanity your vote was slightly leaning towards England. Otherwise Leah could get insufferable with all her moaning and groaning, not the pleasant one which you induced. At the beginning she looks absolutely adorable, all huffing, puffing and pouting but when her never ending complaints start it can get irritating. The simplest way to upper her mood would be a nice bath. Wine in hand and her back pressed to your front. Praises softly whispered into her ear and feather light kisses pressed to her neck and cheeks.

As halftime arrived the odds seemed to be in England's favor, they were playing incredibly. Leah was beaming, I mean they still had to score a few more goals cause you were sure the oranje leeuwinnen weren’t done with one goal. But so far so good, your girlfriend knew the second half would be even more important but she still pulled you in for a kiss. Her smile couldn’t be wiped off her face. Her left arm was placed over your shoulders “Williamson suits you baby, wear it more often?” “Haa you wish my love, it will boost your ego more, it's big enough as it is.” a light giggle escapes your lips, kissing her cheek. “Ughhh you're cruel and my ego isn't that big.” she proceeds to wrap both her arms around you while your faces are inches away. “And here you are, in love with little ol cruel me, so that's on you Le.” “I wouldn't have it any other way, you are the best thing that's ever happened to me,” planting a tender kiss to your forehead, you sense a smirk forming on her lips “after the Euro’s win of course.” This statement earns her a slap to her upper arm “Leah!” “I’m kidding, I’m kidding baby.” due to her infectious laugh you can’t stay mad at her and laugh along.

Her demeanor changes pretty quickly. The second half isn’t as eventful as the first. They couldn't connect to their first half success, while the Netherlands were improving. After the regular 90 minutes it was looking good for England but a goal from Damaris soon followed. Everyone was on edge, Leah was seemingly worried. But Lucy came and told the dutchies to hold her purse and scored. People in the stand were going wild, surely this was it. England would be in the Olympics. An emotional rollercoaster coming to an end. Yet their joy didn't last long as Damaris surprisingly scored again.

As the girls found out, most of them began to burst into tears. Leah too. She immediately seeked the comfort of your neck and hid there for a few minutes until she calmed down. She wasn't crying the whole time as Leah normally has her emotions under control but you provided her with calmness and safety which she desperately needed in this moment. You both proceeded to head to the pitch, to be with the others.

Of course that didn’t mean you weren’t happy for Viv or the other leeuwinnen. The sadness overflowed you tho. The lionesses were all down. That didn't leave you with much room to think of something else except to console them. Both teams held a special place in your heart. You couldn't bear to watch them wallow in self pity. If you could do anything, and you mean anything to bring even the littlest smile on their faces you would try. You went to each and every girl with Leah to hug them. To tell them how incredible they played. And yeah it may not have been good enough but that's not what they should be focusing on right now. Who am I kidding, that's exactly what we are looking at. But they won 6 to 0, what a massive win. You were so incredibly proud of the girls and so was Leah. She made sure everyone on the team knew. To not beat themself up.

Leah also realized that because they were missing this tournament they’d at least have the essential rest in the summer. Finally a break in players' arduous schedules.

#england lionesses #woso imagine #woso #oranje leeuwinnen #leah williamson #woso x reader #fem reader #engwnt #leah williamson x reader #arsenal women

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girlgerard · 7 months

Note

hey! ik you have a big following, and you’ve mentioned visiting israel and palestine on school trips— i really think your voice would be valuable in speaking out on the injustices happening in that region. you always speak so eloquently on race/gender issues on your blog and i’m really interested in hearing your take! plus i think your platform is large enough to really make a good stand!

i appreciate that you sent this ask, and i appreciate that you thought of me. i agree with everything you’re saying, and i wanted to respond to this immediately because of that, even if i don’t have much of an answer to share.

i’ve studied the conflict for years and, like you said, was in israel and palestine (as in the territories named as such) six months ago; i was at the gaza border in may. i actually disqualified myself from birthright because i wanted to be able to go on academic dispensation specifically (i couldn’t go to the west bank otherwise). i study sociology and jewish studies in my degree program. i’m jewish, i’m south asian, i come from a family of refugees, i come from a family of jains, i come from a family of, like, californians, i come from a family with just as many intersections as any other. suffice to say, i have a lot, a lot of emotions tied up in the levant.

the thing is, because i’ve studied it for so long, and because i study sociology specifically, i also know that saying something before i’ve processed it well enough is irresponsible. this conflict is wrapped up in linguistics; the wording you use is everything. i’m really aware of that, i’m also really aware that i’m not in a place where i feel comfortable enough to articulate myself properly. for my own safety, for responsibility’s sake, and because i’m aware of how nuanced and linguistically fucked discussing this conflict is, i don’t want to make a large statement on it while i’m not in a place to do so.

what i will say for now is that if you’re viewing this conflict as a soccer game between two teams, you are not viewing this conflict in a humanist way. normal civillians, palestinian, druze, samaritan, jewish, israeli arab, armenian, any normal person who lives in the land, should be the only “team” you’re on the side of. listen to people who are from the land, read sources in arabic, read sources in hebrew, read multiple perspectives in multiple languages for every event you want to understand better. understanding how important history, generational trauma, and narrative are in this conflict is essential to understanding why any of this is happening, and if anyone says there’s a simpler way to do it, there’s not. no one tribe in the land can leave, and no one tribe in the land deserves anything less than peace and self determination. personally, my first thought about war is how much i care about people, not which state i feel like backing.

i may post more on tumblr, i may post more on other platforms, i may choose keep my activism in-person rather than purely online. navigating all of this while also being pretty devastated and horrified is complex, and i ask for understanding.

#if you want something slightly absolute: fuck bibi i hope his balls get cut off and he rots in a hell that doesn’t exist because we’re jews #💚#people are def gonna assume this post is centrist and then decide my own politics for me but. oh well #based on everything you know about me: what do you think my opinion of murder and war and bombs are?#and fascism? and terrorism?#if it seems like i’m ‘not taking a side’ you’re still thinking about this in terms of country v country #i’m thinking about this in terms of ‘oh god i care about every single fucking person here and everyone is being held captive by different #branches of the same evil and that is horrifying to see’#palestine #israel

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rainbowchaox · 7 months

Text

Purgatory Pissa Masterpost Part 1:

Look guys Missa hasn’t streamed again since day 1 of the event! So I was thinking to make it easier for artists and fic writers to remember canon moments. And I am HAVING thoughts. And feeling the need to yet again be “normal” about my favorite cubitos.

Let’s be honest. Philza was so happy to see Missa was online it was adorable. In Philza POV he practically started the zooming into Missa from the top of the wall. HUSBAND SPOTTED! And the amount of joy between them seeing each other again! THEY MISSED EACH OTHER SO MUCH!!!

Then Missa! Finally got a little brave and practically demanded Philza to give him a HUG. And guys I squealed watching it live. And philza immediately GAVE his husband a hug. And then tubbo immediately was like “are you guys gonna kiss and shit?” And PHILZA broke. Like HMMM why you hesitating why the confusion. Like DO YOU WANNA KISS HIM YOU REPRESSED CROW-

Then we also have to talk about THAT scene. The scene where quite frankly Missa just stared at his husband pecs as Philza canonically flexed- causing Philza to quickly get shy. Missa is so down bad that even I was like “MISSA PLEASE!”. This is the same man in the same stream where he legit called a painting of Philza “papacito” which I learned is like the Spanish version of “daddy”. Which Missa was very judged by his own chat for. It was hilarious. Cubito Missa was a different breed of simping and yearning this stream. I wish I made all of this up, but nope IT HAPPENED CANONICALLY. AND THEY EXPECT ME TO BE NORMAL?!?

But what everyone should focus on the most is when cucurocho said quesadilla island was a paradise. Mr Simpfonia himself immediately agreed because and I quote “Philza is here”. THIS IS BIG! Because EVEN Missa knows the island is horrible. Chayanne is gone for Void Sakes. BUT ITS PARADISE TO MISSA BECAUSE HE LOVES PHILZA- I’m so normal about this dudes. Because even spiderbit can’t say the island is paradise because they met each other on the island, but Missa casually says it like it didn’t rewrite pissa warriors brain chemistry. Something something Philza is comfort and safety to Missa. He loves Philza so much. Truly a bleeding heart with loyalty so strong it’s titanium.

And can we all talk about how Philza when they were separated waved goodbye to Missa when Missa back was turned? Philza doesn’t show affection through words. But by actions. Something something he is already missing Missa. The tsundere crow. JUST ADMIT YOU LOVE HIM-

Also Missa before all of this showing off his aquarium apartment. And casually says “The point is so Philza doesn’t notice so we can stay close to him” BITCH ITS PHILZA AND MISSA FOR A REASON! Did you forget the double bed?!?!!!? Pissa love each other so much it’s slowly becoming a obsession. Not to mention mISSA in general hauntings Philza thoughts (dude checked the map to see Missa when he died-) we get it Philza you love him and are sad you got spilt up. ESPECIALLY BECAUSE YOU NEVER GET TO SEE YOU HUSBAND AND MISS HIM-

Another great moment is when Missa heard his own team mates saw Philza and immediately was possessive and protective DESPITE THEM ACTUALLY BEING ON ENEMY SIDES was like “No don’t hurt my man”. Missa wants his husband to be safe. And nice to know his possessive streak is healthy as ever. Philza is HIS man. I swear Missa we get it- YOU LOVE HIM. THEY MAKE ME CRAZY. And guys it was a experience watching Missa POV. Because he was ignoring all the death and chaos in the chat BUT the moment when Missa saw Philza die his whole face changed expressions. Philza was the only death he reacted too I ain’t lying.

Now for the best part of the stream, Missa causally entered the VC of red team. And I quote “I’m not part of your team but I wanna tell you I love you guys”. PHILZA IMMEDIATELY SAID I LOVE YOU BACK. Of course everyone else was suspicious of Missa being so nice and called him a manipulator while Philza immediately was like “No he wouldn’t do that”. PHILZA TRUSTS MISSA SO MUCH-

LIKE WE UNDERSTAND! You guys are always on each other minds. We were fed so much! And I can’t wait to see what other cute pissa moments we get in the future- I hope you enjoyed my rambling essay. I feel like there should be a masterpost of pissa moments in case anyone needed a refresher! Will make Part 2 once we get more cute pissa moments!

#qsmp #pissa #qsmp pissa #Deathduo #Qsmp shipping #essay #IM NORMAL OK!#pissa newspaper

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goatakiart · 2 months

Text

You try to teach Xavier how to cook.

Short read

Pure fluff

I work really hard to write and draw for each fanfic! I hope you like it!

Just a silly lil story with a silly lil sketch to cheer me up because I wasn't feeling too well. I hope it makes you feel better too ♡

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

You run down to Xavier's apartment in a hurry. Something is burning again.

You don't even knock on the door. He always leaves a pair of keys under his doormat, just for you.

You get in almost running, seeing the pan on fire... and Xavier sleeping on the chair next to it.

"XAVIER!"

He lazily opens his eyes, drool is running down the corner of his mouth.

"Hhm..."

It takes him some time to realize what is happening. Until then, you took the pan out of the stove and stopped the fire.

"For God's sake, Xavier! This is the third time in a week....and it's Wednesday!!!"

Xavier seems more worried about your feelings than his own safety.

"I'm sorry...I'll be more careful next time..."

"No, there won't be next time."

You push him down by his shoulders and make him sit on the chair again.

"I'll teach you."

"Teach me?"

He's obviously still half asleep.

"I'll teach you how to cook."

It's been a month, and there's no progress. But you didn't ask to teach him in hopes he'll get better. You wanted to examine what he's doing wrong.

There was a certain pattern. He's not bad at cooking like you thought. He can insert the perfect doses, he can make amazing dough, he can cut the vegetables great and season the meat.

You understood where the issue lies. Xavier couldn't use the kitchen. He always forgot or fell asleep.

An idea enveloped your mind. You would make him your helper.

You made a great team, and he seemed to enjoy the kitchen way more. It was also easier for you to cook with someone around. Once he came to your own place for a cooking date, he managed not to burn your kitchen to the ground, which was great!

Another month passes.

You were still asleep till you heard excessive knocking on your door.

"MC, MC, are you in?"

You rubbed your eyes and got to the door to find Xavier outside of it.

"Hhmm? What's up?"

"I read the notes you have given me."

"That's why you came here so eagerly?"

He hands you a cute little brown box with a pink bow on it.

"I think I know what I can make on my own."

You lead him inside and get to the kitchen excitedly. You make him sit down as you open the box and witness a perfectly made cheesecake.

"You...you made that???"

"... Is it that shocking?" He says with a disappointed puppy eyes expression.

"Oh, no, no, it's just..."

"Don't worry...I know... it's a no-bake cheesecake. I thought if I can't use the kitchen..."

"... You can make freezer friendly desserts!"

You grab a fork and a knife and cut a piece, placing it on a plate. You take a bite, and funnily enough, it tastes amazing.

"Xavier, you're a genius! This is amazing!"

He shyly rubs the back of his neck at your exclamation.

"You're exaggerating... you are the one to be praised. You have tried so hard for me and gave me the notes. Thank you."

Since then, he comes to your apartment to give you all sorts of desserts, (he's still pretty bad with drinks tho) and in exchange, you always cook a portion for him from whatever you make.

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

Extra: Once he felt a little too confident...needless to say, he almost burned his apartment to the ground again.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace xavier #xavier fanfic #xavier x reader #xavier #xavier fanart #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfic #xavier fluff #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace zayne #xavier x mc #xavier x y/n #xavier x you

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