Chunzhen... Lyfen 2.0?

There is an interesting storm brewing among C-BXG around Chunzhen and their treatment of turtles.

Some of you might remember a few years ago when one of DD's endorsement brands treated BXG very badly and caused some controversy. They held a brand event and tried to exclude turtles, and when they had an online draw for prizes, they drew 4 or 5 BXG as winners (which they discarded) before they finally pulled a solo (who they awarded the prize to).

After the event when turtles were angry and trying to dig into what happened, it came out that the CEO was a solo fan (suspected of being a girlfriend fan) and went out of her way to shut out BXG. She came to be known as the creepy tiara lady because she was wearing a tiara and fawning over DD during the live event.

The BXG who won the initial draw even sued Lyfen for not giving her the prize she rightfully won, and Lyfen's team argued that they were trying to protect DD's reputation from rumors of being gay. Lyfen won the case (😐).

Anyway, a similar thing seems to be brewing again around Chunzhen.

Because both GG and DD endorse products that are under the parent company, most solo fans refuse to support the brand or buy the products. BXG are believed to have been carrying the bulk of the sales from the very beginning.

At the live event the other day, organizers tried to exclude BXG, and confiscated their banners and headbands. They also held an online lottery similar to the one Lyfen held, and excluded BXG from it. When photos from the event were released, BXG colors were covered over in green.

I don't think I should need to explain why that behavior deeply offended BXG. As some turtles have been saying on Weibo, is this company so rich that it can afford to throw away loyal, devoted customers? Does this company not need money? Is not every customer a customer? Are they not all worthy of the same level of service and care?

That the brand would take in solos who've refused to buy the products, while turning away people who have been carrying the sales for years, it's quite shocking.

C-BXG are up in arms and angry about this, and are vowing to never again purchase this brand. Many had products in their shopping baskets because of the brand event and were planning to make orders, and have deleted those orders.

It will be interesting to see how this plays out in the coming weeks. C-BXG have some pretty compelling data to show that they have more purchasing power than solo fans on this. Will solos hold their noses and buy this brand, or will sales coming from DD just fizzle away?

I'm sure some people are wondering why this would happen. It just really boils down to who is making decisions for the brand, or even just for the event.

Every individual who works at a company is going to come to that company with their own values and attitudes, and it's not unheard of for individuals to put their own feelings ahead of the bottom line for the company. We saw that with Lyfen, and I guess now we're seeing that with Chunzhen.

It is possible that somebody at the brand is a solo, or homophobic, or both. It doesn't even have to be someone at the brand, it could be somebody bending that person's ear, even a wife or daughter or other family member.

Wherever it comes from, it is just part of the bigotry that turtles sometimes face because of the nature of this fandom. I encourage fans to let it roll off of your turtle shells and not let it get to you too much.

Fans also needn't worry about DD. He will have already gotten paid for the work he's done, and it's highly unlikely he'd get any extra money based on sales.

If this relationship ends after the current term, it will be no loss as far as I'm concerned. I doubt DD will lose any sleep over it either. He doesn't seem to have any shortage of endorsement opportunities.

A lot will depend on how sales go. 😅

Edit: They seem to love a scandal.

How would Adam treat a little? What if it was his little one?

Adam, whether he likes it or not, is a Beta Caregiver, so Littles are kind of his personal weakness. He does have a heart underneath that exterior. Yeah, he doesn't see Sinners as even remotely the same as Winners even though they are literally human souls, and he is a staunch misogynist, but he didn't exactly have an example to follow, he just happened to be the first dickhead to have the thought that men should be the head of household. However, that also means he was the provider, the one making sure there was a means to eat and kept the family protected. Clearly he became more lax and chased flights of fancy in heaven where he didn't have to work for anything, but anybody will stagnate or worse deteriorate morally, emotionally, and intellectually if there is no real push for them to be better and heaven is the pinnacle of that. Every need met and catered to and Winners don't need to worry about falling no matter what? You bet your ass prolonged exposure to this setting would fuck even the best person up to the worst parts of their character, and Adam is literally the oldest soul in heaven.

I'm guessing for the first while he'd be alone and would be told about his second wife's betrayal (if he didn't already know, there's this whole thing about Cain being the son of the serpent if you wanna know more Google it but this combined with the fact Lucifer implied he also had sex with Eve leads me to believe it could've somehow happened while they were alive, buuuut there's a whole other tangent there because they state Adam was the first human soul but then does that mean Abel didn't get into heaven or was his soul waiting for Adam do Cain and Abel even exist in the universe?!) [[For the purpose of this AU, they exist, and Abel just waited for his father at the gate because he didn't want to go in without anyone he knew there. However, for whatever reason, they've grown apart and don't see each other anymore.]]

Ehehe, sorry about that massive tangent above. This is the first Adam ask, and there's kinda some groundwork to cover for this to even make sense for a lot of people. Anyhow, back on track after his second wife's betrayal he would be in no hurry to get anybody to try and fill in any sort of spot as someone he genuinely cares about and needs him and all that. Hence, he becomes something of a playboy. Also, being the first human soul in heaven and finding out about the secondary gender and designation system he wouldn't properly understand it, all he knows is that he's a fucking Beta cuck and by the time reassigning treatment for it comes along there's already too many people here for him to just go in discreetly so he's stuck using artificial hormones and things he can get under the table through two or three parties before reaching him so nobody would ever know. Over half of his "I'm the original dick" bullshit is literally just this front he puts up to keep the facade that he's an Alpha. He even uses injections to give himself a fake rut at the same time a normal cycle would happen. His avoidance of connection leads him to staying away from places where he might bump into Littles leaving him to joining a band that plays at the strip and bar joints (it's probably tamer than hell but you're really telling me there's no one in heaven who's a good soul but just horny or likes the occasional drink? Like I get that those who indulge in excess are guilty of the sin(s or a combination) of Gluttony, Lust, and /or Greed but like once their up there you're telling me it's all ice cream shops and petting zoos and singing? Especially in this version? I mean, at what point does fun become hedonistic or overindulgence? Can you have no sex except vanilla behind closed bedroom doors? Boy, if I got redeemed, I'd be clawing my way back down extermination or no if you're telling me BDSM is outlawed. XD I am lowkey tired while writing this, so sorry for the obscene amount of tangents, cursing, and odd tone) just so he can avoid them. When Lute comes, he has someone to project his needs of caring for someone onto even though Lute is an Alpha Neutral. (90 percent of the exorcists are Alphas actually and it simultaneously passes him off, because why the fuck isn't he an Alpha, and gives him a power rush since he commands them easily and they're eating out of the palm of his fucking hand.) Granted he's not the best at it, but he's trying and also Lute is a bit much for even him at times, plus she's the only one who will correct him whenever he's wrong or about to do or say something completely stupid so he kinda hates that even if it is very rare.

Anyway, by present day he's so far pushed back his actual instinctual needs to care for someone that the very first Little, Sinner or Winner, that touches him his Caregiver is going to bond with and he's going to be stuck with them. If they're a Sinner he's sneaking them into heaven and hiding them away and at first he fucking sucks but he can't stand to see them crying especially when regressed so he gets better pretty quickly. If they're a Winner he's better to them but still somewhat resentful they're harshing his whole unattached Alpha male stud vibe he had going on. It'd be a learn to be better type story. If Lucifer found out he might be very concerned because he knows the kind of man Adam has become and he wouldn't trust the man with a goldfish, let alone a Little. (But that's a story for another time)

Anyway hope that all made sense and wasnt offensive or anything somehow I'm literally falling asleep typing.

TLDR: Adam wouldn't go within ten feet of a Little if he could help it, but when he has one of his own more and more of the man he used to be is awakened and he becomes a better Caregiver if not person overall.

the funniest thing of the first half of this season was seeing carlos fans becoming conspiracional and saying wherever he got a slow pit stop that ferrari was doing on purpose to help charles, because last year they would call every charles fan crazy for thinking binotto was favoring carlos

Two things I've observed watching F1:

Like with every professional sport, there is definitely some cheating/influencing of results happening. Football may have its divers and biased referees, F1 has drivers complaining on the radio to try to sway the stewards, drivers deliberately binning their car at convenient times for them or their team mate, and let's not even start about the FIA changing its own rules in the final laps of the final race to provide an entertaining end to a close championship. There are many ways a team itself can influence a driver's results (ignoring driver feedback, slow pit stops, wrong tires, etc.) should they want to. Whether it's in their best interest is debatable, but it's certainly not unheard of.

When you're a fan of an athlete (or any other famous person), it is hard to stay unbiased. This is the person you idolize, your ultimate favorite, or your meow meow. So common sense sometimes goes out the window as we look at what happens during race weekends. E.g., Checo fans think he's continuously getting sabotaged to favor Max, while Max fans say it's nonsense and point to the many fastest pit stops Checo has had this year.

And so as a Charles fan, yes, I feel like Binotto was not supportive enough to Charles, with Monaco and Silverstone being the wounds that cut the deepest. I felt that the fact that Binotto had to go to Monaco to smooth things over with Charles after Silverstone was very telling. Add in Binotto's post-race comments (e.g., quick to say France was Charles's fault, but never admitting to mistakes made by other team members), social media gaffes (Santander's lovely "Winners win.", forgetting to acknowledge Charles's past achievements, etc.), and numerous articles in the press speculating the same thing, it should come as no surprise that Charles fans got the impression Binotto favored the person he himself hired over the person he inherited.

And now that the team principal is someone who has a history and strong bond with Charles, it makes sense that Carlos fans would be concerned about Carlos not getting fair treatment. To be honest, I hadn't really seen Carlos fans calling Charles fans crazy or seen them become conspiracional, but then again, I am not on the more toxic social media for a reason.

By the way, I always thought it was unsettling that Charles was unable to reverse out of that crash in France, and even my Mum (a Verstappen fan) thought there had to have been an issue or a wind gust involved in causing his crash. Read about what Nico Rosberg said shortly after it happened.

Hey so og chestroll anon here🥰👋🏻, with a small thing for anyone wondering how Lance reacted to not being chosen for the winner’s room/the rbr threesome, so I wrote this all at once without checking for mistakes etc. on my note app in the middle of nowhere on vacation (yes my note app is filled with juicy ideas for chestroll and other parings, and everytime it makes me think how it would be embarrassing to die and leave my parents to find tons of nfsw ideas on that app tbh) ANYWAY if it’s not the best, I apologise, we were running with this idea in not so optimal conditions.

‘He is going to choose who he wants for the winner’s room again’. That’s what Lance thought after hearing about Checo’s victory, that what he thought climbing the stairs to the room where the drivers waited for the winner’s decision. ‘Maybe he is going to choose me again’. He wanted that,he could feel it on his skin, so afraid that Mick and Esteban would read it on his face, and oh god what if Checo choose Estie again? No that couldn’t happen, he was a better choice, he gave more than a coworker-like handjob. But then soon after he arrived, everyone was asked to leave, apparently the winner already chose and asked the selected driver. No need to wait around.

Checo didn’t choose him.

He grabbed Sebastian by the arm, to stop him from leaving and also as a support. “Seb,man,who do you think he choose?”. Sebastian smiled at him and for a moment he felt like the older man was reading his mind.

“Rumours has it that he choose Max, which if you think about it’s in typical Redbull fashion, staying in the team during times like these one, especially after marko’s remarks about Checo’s performance…I bet Max and Checo are showing him a united front, you know, with Christian too” Seb said. And Lance knew Seb was an expert on Redbull’s dynamic, better than him anyway.

“Ah good for them…they are going to party together too, I bet”

Checo choose to have Max, maybe to humiliate him too but that did not make sense, Charles would have been a better option. What if Checo reserve to Max a prince-like treatment, oh god, that’s why….he choose Max to show Redbull he can please their golden boy, he is doing it cement his place within the team, even after the contract announcement, that’s why Christian is involved.

Seb is turning again to leave. “Wait, Seb, why Max and Checo need to show a united front to Christian too? As He said something too?”, Seb started laughing knowingly, sometimes he kinda annoyed Lance with how the other seemed to always know better than most, like a pretentious omnipresent god. “Christian is not against them in this story, o’contraire I bet he is getting cozy too, he always love to cherish his boys when they perform well”.

Wait, Lance for a moment thinks he heard wrong because Seb surely is not implying that Christian…with Max and Checo, but Checo…he would never.

He wants to ask for more but Sebastian is clearly done with the conversation.

“If you want an advise, Lance, I saw tons of men like Checo in my years as a driver, they use the winner’s room as another method to show teams they are formula one material. They tend to not choose the same driver that many times, not on a row anyway.” And with that he leaves.

—

It’s 3 am in the morning, all winner’s room celebration should be done, most after parties are also done and Lance is enough drunk to think that the “no good idea comes after 3 am” rule doesn’t apply to himself. He left bar after he overheard about redbull drivers and hotel floors. He was going to confront Checo about the tension between them, about why he was not chosen, why Checo did not want him begging on his knees again?

Room 209 door looks like every other door in the hotel, but Lance knows is Checo’s room. He just needs to knock, maybe it would be better to already sink on his knees for the other, to show him how good and devoted he could be.

After ten minutes or so someone as yet to answer the door, why is Checo not in his room when he needs to? Lance is so tired, he can’t feel his knees anymore and everything feels fuzzy and hot, but he doesn’t want to go away. He wants to see Checo, after all these months of holding back and glances in the paddock, he is tired jerking off in the showers, he really just want to go back to that room and witness Checo coming undone again.

“Lance?” a soft accented voice says. “what are you doing here?”. Lance glances up from the carpet.

“Checo…I wanted to congratulate”.

Sergio lifts his left eyebrow, “at 3 am?”.

“Well no better day than today no?Would you mind helping me standing up again…I am dizzy,you see, and I need you.” Lance extend an arm in Checo direction and after not even few seconds he can feel the other man lifting him, leaving a supporting hand on his back. It’s warm and they are close.

“Let me walk you to your room”. Lance smiles, such a perfect gentleman.

“I don’t think I can move my legs” he whispers. “you partied hard eh, Lance…” “not that much, just tired from the race, alcohol didn’t help”. Lance can see Checo is debating on what to do with him, he is probably annoyed at him too.

“c’mon man, you can stay in my room for a few minutes,until you’re well enough to walk back.”

And that’s how at the end of the day Lance got himself on Checo bed, surrounded by his scent, with the room swinging like a small boat in the middle of the ocean (he never been to one but he can pretty much imagine the feeling is similar to what he is feeling) and he is also overwhelmed by the compelling need to tell Checo everything he felt in the last few months, before it’s too late and he drifts to sleep. Checo is doing something out of his sight, but he is still in the room with him.

“Why did you not choose me again? For the winner’s room.”

Everything stills, Lance takes the other silence as an approval to keep talking.

“I know I could make you have a better time than anyone else, make you feel a better winner than anyone else, better than Horner and Verstappen anyway.”

“Lance…” Checo whispers.

“No, Sergio you don’t have any idea of how much I jerked myself off to the thought of being on my knees for you, I know I can please you better, I know.”

Silence again.

The last thing Lance remembers is the sound of a door being opened and closed again.

wow your mind??????? oh my gosh anon you've been BUSY thinking during your vacation

I love the ??? lance going to SEB and getting the know how's of how it works at redbull... I laughed at lance's ability to give a better than coworker level blowjob... ok pop off. poor thing not getting picked yeah you've definitely over estimated your relationship here babe!! Christian cherishing his boys when they perform well 😳😳😳

i also loved??? seb mentioning that some guys use it for power play reasons, showing others they're f1 material and pretty young things as a one time use only. that gives the world such a lived in feel, that this has been going on for Years and there's types of WR guys... I love that I love ur mind

lance thinking 3am bad decisions don't apply to him damn he's just like me FR..... he makes it to his bed!! they don't fuck :( you absolute tease. poor lance blabbing his heart out and checo going aite I'm out 🚶‍♂️🚪 this tew much for mister married with Mexican Catholic guilt

this is SO MUXH I really really hope you're keeping these saved somewhere that isn't my inbox 😭😭😭 keep it! write it!!!!!! and we will nom nom enjoy it thank you!

What We Should Know About Drug Rehab Centres

Numerous effects in this world were discovered in order to ameliorate the way of living, to keep mortal race down from any kind of peril, but they turned out to be the great adversary of the same race. Same is the case of medicine which was actually made to keep the people down from any kind of complaint but people started misusing it. Every day in news we hear that some player used medicine to increase their stamina to be the winner. numerous youths get addicted to different medicine just as they suppose it increases their status. Some get addicted to them because of severe depression. So eventually we can say that medicine dependence has formerly came a veritably major problem of the whole world.

Rehab centres have been extensively opened to cure this growing problem. medicine dependence is defined as the situation when someone input a lot of medicine without allowing important about its side effect and dangerous consequences. For them its input come mandatory or they can not survive. medicines like cocaine, heroin and morphine are veritably popular. numerous of the people substantially the youths have also come addict to alcohol which is also veritably bad dependence for health. This medicine dependence is now a veritably common issue and has to be removed to keep our youths safe.

Medicine recuperation is the process in which a medicine addict is given medical or cerebral treatments to keep them down from medicine. To discourage the people from using medicines until specified by a croaker

, it has been declared as an illegal act and the person set up doing any similar exertion, either taking medicine or supplying it to others, have been declared punishable by law. Depending on the state of the person they're handed with applicable medical cure. In some cases where the persons start taking medicine because of their internal status they're given cerebral treatment.

Cerebral treatment is made available in all the Rehabs in delhi. In this the medicine addict person is kept down from medicines and is psychologically encouraged to keep themselves indulged in intriguing conditioning and keep them pressure free. As in this the cases keep them busy with other workshop and hence they stop allowing about medicines input. Alcohol addicts are also given this treatment. This process is veritably effective to avoid the addict people to suppose about the medicine and hence is used all over the world to help people remove medicine from their lives.

Colorful types of recovery programs offer different types of results for different cases. Spiritual provocation also helps a lot in taking out this entire medicine addict out of medicines. occasionally some other medicines are set up veritably useful and effective to remove dependence from some other medicine. A person who's medicine addict should be also given emotional support to take them out of this dependence . They shouldn't be kept alone and should be encouraged to interact with all the people.

So in a nutshell it can be said that by getting medicine addict one is reducing the mortal resource of this world which should be largely discouraged. getting addicted to medicine isn't the result for any problem. One should try to interact with as numerous people as they can to break their problem and they shouldn't take medicines as the only result. At the end we should use the thing for our and others profit and not for any wrong, as harming mortal being wasn't the purpose of contriving medicines.

The best Guide Tips in Valorant

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🥝| AYO YALL ITS THE PART UVE BEEN WAITING FOR

🥑|finally i have gathered enough motivation to write part 2 of my L x reader smut!! we have a winner!!

🐢|thank u to all who voted i took every one of your opinions into account! i hope this is to everyone's satisfaction. :)

🌵|anyway, enough with the intro- here's ur story! enjoy!

L x Reader Smut- Part 2

"Lovely. Now, shall we begin?"

You lifted both eyebrows and smiled a little. "Whenever you're ready."

L stared at you, then briefly turned his head to glance at the small analog clock behind him on the dresser. "If you don't climax within fifteen minutes, I'll consider you the winner."

Fifteen minutes? How weak did L think you were? You'd been known to last over an hour in bed, and here he was giving you fifteen minutes. It was almost insulting.

Or- did he just think he was that good?

L and his inflated ass ego.

Well, you'd be the one to shrink it down to size tonight.

"Sounds good," you responded airily.

L didn't acknowledge your words but instead immediately set his fingers to work undoing your shirt and removing the garments from your upper body with swiftness and skill. "These will only get in my way later..." he mused, his voice a low murmur. Then he lifted his eyes to meet yours- this time with a new expression present within them.

A slow smirk spread across his pale lips and his gaze turned back to you- but he quickly resumed his typical countenance and undid the last of your buttons, dropping your shirt and bra neatly on the ground beside the bed.

"Oh- and I hope you know, I am a petulant child who hates to lose."

Your brow arched.

"Yes, I'm aware."

L studied your bare breasts for a while, an unreadable glint in his dark eyes, before lowering a thin hand to twirl a finger around your nipple slowly. Your breath caught as you felt it harden, and when L gave the same treatment to your other breast, rubbing gently on the stiffened skin, you involuntarily let out a small whimper.

Damn it.

The second L heard it, he removed his hands and peered down at you with a piteous expression- almost as if he was mocking you. "Already?" he questioned airily, dragging his thumb along his lower lip, voice low as usual.

Was he trying to provoke you?

You didn't respond. If you were to win this challenge, and pop L's ego, you would have to be a lot tougher than this.

Biting your lip, glanced back up at L, your eyes slightly narrowing as your competitiveness began to show itself. He wasn't going to win this time. Him and his research could go f-

"Hm. Well, I suppose that should make this easier."

Mother-

You barely had time to react before L dropped his head once more and began running his tongue along your left breast, both his legs bent in between each of yours and his hand pressing down on your neck. His wet tongue ran over your nipple over and over again while he utilized his free hand to play with your other breast, delivering light squeezes and pulling gingerly at your nipple to keep it hard, mildly massaging it.

L found he enjoyed the sensation of your soft, malleable breasts in his hand- and your skin on his tongue was better than any sweet he'd ever had. He was almost concerned that, if he won this little game, he wouldn't be able to let you go.

And the sound that had escaped you earlier- L needed to hear that again.

His research had said that you'd probably moan at some point- but he was completely unprepared for how much he'd relish in the noise. L was the one making you feel good- and he drew an uncharacteristic amount of pride from that fact.

L lowered his head down further still to encase your nipple in his lips, and when he pulled it between his teeth to begin sucking on it, a tepid squeal left your own lips, the warmness and wetness of his mouth feeling like heaven on your skin.

L's eyes met yours, and he gave a few more long licks to your nipple while caressing your other breast still; and after he'd drawn a few more whimpers from you and your face began to flush, he finally withdrew his hands and mouth from your body.

Promptly sitting up, the bed creaking, L looked back at the clock behind him. "Hm- only ten minutes left. Maybe I should actually begin," he muttered, more to himself than you. He moved back toward you. "I will now remove the rest of your clothing. Please, don't hesitate to let me know if you want me to stop."

"Yeah, got it," you murmured, a little flustered. Your nipple was glossy now from L's saliva, and it was still hard. While you had mostly maintained your composure, L had elicited some sounds from you, and admittedly, he had done a very skilled job of making you feel good.

Most notably... the wetness in between your legs was ridiculously evident to you. You were already aroused- lovely.

It was clear you'd have to strengthen your resolve by quite a bit if you were to beat L.

You paid no mind when L actually began to remove your clothing, but you were extremely aware when you sensed your panties being slid down your ankles and tossed onto the ground.

"I'm not very experienced, but I do learn quickly," L suddenly said, making you jolt your head down to where he was. L had moved down to the foot of the bed, bent so his head was in between your legs. You could feel his warm breath on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you felt a quiver go down your spine.

"Your point?"

"No point. Just... keep that in mind." L looked up at you again. "I'm going to try something I read about- it will involve my touching your... vagina."

With a pang of amusement, you noticed a faint tint of pale red along L's cheeks and the bridge of his nose- was he actually shy when it came to words like vagina? Averting your eyes, you smirked to yourself. L may have been L, but... he was still L.

"Do what you wish," you replied.

L nodded, and lifted a single finger to run it up and down your slit, drawing another gasp from you as you felt him barely brush over your clit.

"You're awfully wet, Y/N," L noted, staring at his slick-covered finger. The blush was still present on his face.

"What an outstanding observation, L. Yes, I am wet," you stated bluntly, your pride injured.

A low chuckle was heard from the detective's throat as he traced your slit a few more times, getting a whimper or a moan from you every time, to cover his finger in your juices- and then he plunged it into your moistened hole.

"Ah!" Your upper body immediately lifted off the bed as you felt your walls tighten around his finger, which was moving at a steady pace inside of you.

"My research also said," L mused, apparently paying no mind to your reaction, "that there is a region of the vagina called a G-spot. I wonder if I can find it..."

In your stupor, you caught a glimpse of the clock- seven minutes. Okay, you could hold out that long- as long as L didn't find your pleasure center, this could be easy. Feeling somewhat consoled by this, you took a deep breath-

-and let it out in a scream.

L's finger had curved upwards inside of you- and much to your dismay, he had located the g-spot.

Damn it.

L' eyes instantly lifted to face you. "I take it I've found it?"

"Nngh-"

L picked up the pace and added a second finger, curving that one similarly to stroke your G-spot as well. Within seconds, you had begun to shake, and your face had flushed a deep pink.

"Well," L mused, staring directly into your eyes, watching every time your back arched, listening to every one of your moans and whimpers, feeling your legs quiver around his fingers. "This should make things easier."

"Mm- sh-shut up nngh-"

L averted his gaze from you and focused solely on pumping his fingers back and forth, which was proving to be your downfall as you felt a dull knot of pleasure begin to form in your lower stomach.

Five minutes, you noted absently, bucking your hips to try and wrench your legs from L's grasp. Just five more minutes... 300 more seconds...

"Oh, don't try to break free from my grip now," L whispered, his tone laced with arrogance. "I've only just begun."

You fixed the dark-haired investigator with a bewildered look, still struggling to form a coherent sentence when suddenly, he withdrew his fingers and placed his hands on either of your thighs. A reflexive whine escaped you as you felt your own warm wetness on L's glassy fingertips, glistening in the dim lamplight with your clear fluids.

L slowly increased the pressure on his hands until your thighs were firmly pinned to the mattress, rendering you unable to move- you had forgotten how strong L actually was. Yet another setback- lovely. This was looking harder and harder to withstand- and even though the clock was ticking, you weren't even sure if you'd last that long at this rate.

"Stay still." With that monotone command, L dropped his head in between your restrained thighs and began to lick down your dripping slit, his soft and dewy tongue long and hot as he ran the appendage up and down torturously to bring you as much ecstasy as possible; he reveled in the sweet taste of you once more. His lips attached to your clit and would suck slowly, unfalteringly there- his research had said that this would give him an advantage. And judging by your reactions, he noted, he wasn't wrong.

It was fortunate for L that your legs were held down, or else you likely would have taken his head straight off as your hips frantically bucked and your back curved into a shape almost like a perfect rainbow. Your lips parted and uncontrolled gasps fled your mouth, completely smothered in pleasure, almost unbearable as L's skilled tongue twirled relentlessly around your clit and occasionally slid into your entrance where it pumped back and forth, long and rubbing every perfect spot inside of you.

"Oh- oh, my God, L, fuck- please-" Your legs quivered violently beneath L's clutch, and your eyes rolled back into your head as the pleasure began to blur your vision and build up in your stomach, preparing to dissolve all over your entire body.

"You're making quite a bit of noise up there, aren't you? Enjoying this, are we?" L queried, his tone outright cocky now, a tone you had only heard during investigations.

You wanted to smack him- but you weren't even able to form a comprehensible sentence. All you had to offer in response were several more moans, to which L smirked slightly at.

Two minutes.

L seemed to sense that he was running short on time- and upon realizing this, he removed one of his sticky fingers from your thigh and slid it back into you to join his mouth in suffocating you with absolute rhapsody. You could feel every last movement of his lips, his tongue, his finger on and inside your body, and it was torture as much as it was heaven.

One minute.

Your chest rose and fell violently as you moaned over and over, almost shrieking, and the first sting of euphoric tears burned the corners of your eyes. Your orgasm was approaching rapidly- and you weren't sure how long it was willing to wait.

"Oh, oh, ah- L, L, please- holy shit, please, oh, oh my god, L, I- I can't, oh, my g- god-"

It was almost painful now how much pleasure you were experiencing- but it wasn't quite yet, which made it so much worse. Your whole body was shaking, even seizing, at this point- and L was showing no signs of stopping, even as a drop of drool ran down your lips.

Ten seconds... Nine...

L's tongue began to speed up as well as his finger- eliciting a scream from you. Your climax was mere seconds away.

Six...five...

"Fuck, L, I'm going to- please s- ah!"

L peered up at you through wide eyes, still licking at you madly. You writhed uncontrollably, whining and nearly crying- it was overpowering.

Two...one...

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

L, unblinking, lifted his head. "Time's up."

You emitted a long, loud moan as you finally met your release, seeing white as transparent, glossy liquid squirted from your entrance with such force that much of it landed on L's lips and face, to which he did not flinch. Your legs trembled vigorously and your back remained arched as the once dull knot of pleasure exploded into unbelievable ecstasy, flooding your entire body.

L allowed you to ride out your orgasm before simply climbing back up onto the bed with you as you tried to catch your breath, gasping for air as your legs jumped- but the initial peak was done; your body just needed to recover as you were completely spent.

L paid no mind to the fluids on his face- which you noticed was flushed pink "You won the challenge, you know," he told you matter-of-factly, resuming his frog position beside your limp, flopped over body. "I suppose that means you can have your way with me the rest of the night."

You closed your eyes briefly, regaining the last of your composure before opening them again. "Yes- you're right." You turned your head to face L, and despite your exhaustion, a slow smile spread across your lips.

"Should I be worried?" L questioned candidly, blinking at you unpretentiously.

"Maybe," you answered carefully before reaching your hand up and using your thumb to spread your cum across his lips, making them glossy. Lucidly, L's tongue darted out to taste some of your juices before quickly retreating back into his mouth.

L looked... quite pretty in that moment.

The rest of the night would certainly be fun.

As if reading your mind, L smiled.

part 3 will be out as soon as possible<3

The water flow stopped, and Andrew sighed, picking up the towel. He looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes scanning across the plain chest and stopping before his view reached his elbows.

"Andrew?" a voice called from the other side of the door, startling him. Andrew took a quick breath, closing his eyes before sighing, reminding himself of where he was. Renee's bathroom. Allison was downstairs, probably preparing baby Seth to stand in the crowd with her. "Nicky just left me your clothes. Do you want me to leave them in the spare room for you?"

"Yess." Andrew replied, looking down and pulling his boxers on. "I'll be out in a second." He reached for the armbands, pulling them on and tucking his thumb into the holes before walking out.

Betsy, Nicky and Erik were changing at home. They didn't need the preparation like the twins did, they wouldn't get picked. Jesse was safe too, wrapped up between his dads but next year he wouldn't. Next year he would be up there, and Andrew couldn't save him. Andrew had already felt the guilt of the six years he missed protecting his cousin and the four years he missed with his brother.

When they were united two years ago, it was a shock to everyone around them. Andrew had been in Betsy's care his entire life before then, with help from Renee for a few years during his more rebellious phase. When Renee started her fighting lessons twelve years ago, he was one of the firsts to sign up. Eight years after Andrew signed up, another Andrew signed up. Renee knew it wasn't him. And she mentioned it to Betsy, who connected the fourteen-year olds and since took them both in, alongside their cousin. A year later, Nicky introduced his boyfriend and his son to the family, and they were welcomed with open arms.

Betsy took two-week-old Andrew in from the day she saw him left on the side of the work field, wrapped in only a blanket. She took him home, where eight-year-old Renee was waiting. She hadn't been ditched like Andrew, she has been unfortunately orphaned by a factory malfunction and lost her mother at only six.  

Renee and Andrew grew up alongside each other, but when she left for the games at age thirteen, they knew they would never be the same. Renee came back a victor, that's when she started her fighting lessons. Betsy advised against it but saw her development and let her work. When Andrew questioned her why she let her fight after she had won, Betsy reminded him Renee had won for a reason.

That's when he met Wymack. David Wymack, the winner of the forty-third Hunger Games. David Wymack, the man who relied on the pain of tattoos to give him a mental escape from the pain that the Games had caused him. The same David Wymack who took Jean Moreau out of Betsy's care less than a week after she took him in.  

"Just because Jean was taken in by the Wymacks, it doesn't mean that you're not wanted." Betsy would always say. She would say the same thing every time she took one kid into her home and then they were taken in by a family a few days after. "You are just as valid. You are just as special. You just need to wait for your special time to shine."

Eight years passed and Aaron appeared. They united, Nicky was introduced, and Betsy took them all in. Betsy introduced them to Wymack, who introduced them to his kids and the Boyds. Befriending the entire of the Victors Village was a kick in the guts to Andrew. A reminder how he wasn't special, how he was basically nothing in comparison to some people.

Jean remembered him though. Jean made him feel special way. Not a romantic or sexual thing. Andrew knew those. Well, he knew sexual. He knew from all the hook-ups behind the factories, he knew from the nights he stayed at Roland's, a classmate in Renee's fighting class, and experimented with things. He knew from the start he was gay, but never said it out loud. He wasn't too confident when it came to romantic feelings however, but he had an idea.  

Jean Moreau-Wymack was his first and only friend. Renee accepted this, seeing how they're bond was more sibling like than friends. Jean joined him on the tree searched. Andrew taught him to climb quick, how to spot the nests quickly, how to remove both wasp and birds safely. In return, Jean baked him sweet goods. The banana breads and cakes and muffins rolled through the door daily, Jean delivering them every morning with a small smile. Occasionally, Jean would bake with exotic flavors that David Wymack brought back from his annual visits to the Capitol.

With all the time Andrew had started spending Jean, Aaron began spending it with the other child in the Wymack household. Kevin Wymack-Day. David's biological child from a woman he didn't meet again after their one-night stand.

When Kayleigh, Kevin's mother, passed Kevin had been put in the custody of David. Jean, Kayleigh's other child, had been given to Betsy to be cared for. David hunted him down and took him in, not having the heart to separate the kids.

Aaron and Kevin clicked the second they met. Both being insufferable, obsessive assholes in Andrew's opinion (and Jean's, but that was one of the secrets between the two that were shared in the tops of trees over a muffin each). Aaron's obsession laying in the profession of David's wife, Abby Wymack. One of the best doctors in District 7. Since Aaron became closer with her, he became more obsessed over the profession and soon, if he survived the final reaping, would become her apprentice. Kevin's obsession laid in a Capitol sport, Exy. Whenever his father visited the Capitol for the games, he would bring back his son merchandise of his favorite teams. David had a friend in the Capitol who recorded every game so he could take them home and Kevin could watch them.

Andrew reached the spare room and froze before remembering where he was. Renee's house. Aaron was at the Wymacks', using their shower like Andrew was using Renee's. He knew the only reason was to see Kevin, and 'secretly' say goodbye and good luck in their own special way.

Their attraction to each other was not unknown, practically everyone knew. But it was obvious they were waiting until Aaron's last reaping, until today, to make anything exclusive. As long as they snuck out of the Victors Village before anyone began to head to the town center, no one would notice the luxurious treatment the twins were getting.

The clothes were spread out, waiting on the spare room bed. Nicky's old black, short sleeved button up shirt and a pair of Erik's old, tight fit, wash jeans. A pair of old boots that Betsy had managed to afford where on the floor, with a pair of Allison's bright pink socks laying neatly in the neck of the boot.  

"You'll need to be ready in a few minutes Andrew." Renee's voice filtered through the door again. "The ceremony starts in an hour. People begin to move soon." Her footsteps echoed down the corridor as she left and Andrew looked at the clothes, sighing.

◒◓◒◓◒

Andrew stepped out, seeing Kevin and Aaron talking through a gap in the curtains. He sat back, waiting silently and watched them argue.  

"They're horrible." Jean mumbled, sitting next to Andrew on the wall, leaving a large enough space for Capitol's largest man to sit between them. "Kevin kicked me out so I couldn't hear. I think they're talking about their latest hook-up." He took a bite from a muffin, leaving one on the wall beside Andrew. "It was at ours while we were climbing. I think they think we're fucking."

"How disappointed will they be when they find out we don't fuck; we talk shit about them and stuff our faces with shit." Andrew mumbled and Jean giggled, taking another bite. "Truth for a truth?" Jean nodded. "I'm nervous."

"That's well justified." Jean said. "Your name is at the highest chance it's ever been, and ever will be. But some people do sadly have their names in there more than you. So, the chance it being you is low. And the chance it's Aaron is even lower, since your name is still in there from the past years of tesserae. "Jean sighed. "I'm gay. I think." Jean mumbled before looking over.

"Want another round?" Andrew asked and Jean stopped before nodding. He took another bite of his muffin, looking forward again. "I'm gay too." Andrew said, picking his muffin up. "I've known for a few years."

"I have a crush on Jeremy." Jean said. Andrew turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "The baker's son. I used to talk to him a lot when I lived with Kayleigh. She would let me pick up her weekly orders from the bakery and I would pay them with grain and milk. I used to talk to Jeremy every Sunday, and that's why I like baking. Because I like Jeremy. "

Andrew looked back through the window, seeing them still talking. Aaron seemed more angry than usual during their 'conversations'. "You should offer to work there." Andrew suggested. "You could see him more."

Jean laughed, looking down before taking the final bite. "I could, but who would you hang out with then? You haven't got any other friends." "I have Jesse." Andrew said, taking a bite. "This is good. What flavor is it?"

"It's another new one from the Capitol called Palmetto. It's basically a super sweet blood orange." Jean said. "And Jesse doesn't count. He's got school you know."

"I'll teach him then." Andrew argued, his eyes following Jean as the older boy got up and started pacing. "I remember all my lessons. I could teach him with no struggle." Jean snorted, looking up. "Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"Kicked out remember?" Jean mumbled, looking back at Andrew. Andrew shrugged, taking another bite from his muffin and Jean laughed. "I should. Aaron seems to be done in the shower, so if I go straight up Kev probably won't care." Andrew nodded, taking another bite quickly. "I need to, don't I?" Andrew nodded again. "I'll see you after. Good luck Andrew." Jean turned to walk back.

"Jean." Andrew said and he stopped, turning. "If I get picked, don't be nervous to say goodbye."

Jean knew that was Andrew asking him to come. But Andrew didn't like asking. Andrew didn't want to ask, say the word please. It wasn't how Andrew worked, and Jean knew that. He never questioned why, but he knew that. He never pressed any questions when it came to Andrew, because Andrew never did the same to him. He never questioned the scars on his cheek or the roughness of his hands or the burn marks that Jean turned up with.

"I will." Jean said, smiling gently. "I hope you enjoyed the muffin! If I do need to visit you, I'll bring one along. A parting gift." He laughed before walking inside.

Andrew watched the door for a few seconds after it closed before moving his glance to the gap in the curtains. Their argument went on for a few more minutes until Aaron looked out the window. Andrew raised an eyebrow and Aaron sighed, turning back to Kevin and saying something before leaving.

"Trouble in paradise?" Andrew muttered when Aaron reached his side.

"Shut up." Aaron muttered, already towards the village entrance.

He was dressed in a tight red shirt, it looked like Kevin's with the way it was too tight around his waist but loose around the arms, and a pair of trousers which were too torn to belong to a victor, and the style choice only pointed to Nicky. Too tight around the thighs with baggy bottoms. Just how Erik liked it.

"He just wanted to wish me good luck and I wanted to thank him, or tell him to thank his dad, for letting me use their shower."

"Wish you good luck with a massive smooch." Andrew said, walking after him.

"As if you and Jean weren't doing the same." Aaron muttered, scowling at him.

"Jean was actually just telling me about his crush. I got a name and everything. It was glorious." Andrew said. As Aaron went to ask, Andrew continued, "But I will not be saying anything about the mystery person. It was in our game, and I never tell secrets from our game."

"You're stupid shitty 'Truth for a truth' game?" Aaron asked and Andrew nodded. "I don't know why you two play that. It's not even a game, its talking. Like normal people do. You and Jean are weird."

"I think Jean is smarter than you when it comes to most things." Andrew mumbled, pushing the gate at the end of the pathway open. Nicky looked up through the window, smiling when he saw the twins. "If him being weird is the consequence of that, I don't think he minds.  

"Fucking weirdo." Aaron muttered, pushing past. Nicky immediately fussed over him, asking where the shirt he left out was. Erik moved closer to Andrew, holding Jesse in his arms.

"I have missed you." Erik said.  

"Jesse." Andrew called and the young boy looked over. "Want to hug?" Jesse nodded excitedly. Erik squatted down, letting Jesse run over. But just before he reached Andrew, he slowed down and then calmly wrapped his arms around Andrew's waist. "Oh Andrew, you look amazing." Nicky whispered. "I wish Betsy could see you before the ceremony, but she's already gone to get the other kids ready." He stood up, smiling. "You both look amazing. And we are going to get through this, and we are going to come home and be calm and happy."

His smile faltered for a second, but he plastered it back on before Aaron could notice. Erik and Andrew did, but both decided to stay quiet, knowing he was trying his hardest.

"Andrew, are you sure you don't want to move to a factory job with me and Aaron? You could watch the games."

"I'm fine being a clearer." Andrew mumbled. "I get good pay and I only have to talk to Jean. I see no flaws."

"But you can't watch the games." Nicky said.

"Erik doesn't like to watch the games. Neither do I." Andrew said, looking down at Jesse, who had buried his face in Andrew's side. "I am happy getting the updates from you over dinner."

Nicky went to say something, but Erik stepped forward and whispered into his ear. Nicky sighed, looking at him. Erik pecked his lips softly.

"We should get going, though," Andrew said, pushing Jesse back lightly and holding his hand out. Jesse smiled widely, taking his hand and holding tightly, as if his life depended on it.

The walk to the town center was mostly fully of Nicky's nervous rambling, with Erik and Aaron occasionally responding. But Andrew ignored them and chose to focus on the small tune Jesse was humming, squeezing his hand along to the beat.

When they reached the town center, Erik picked Jesse back up. Jesse waved to Andrew sadly before his dad carried him off, holding Nicky's hand. They passed the peacekeepers and stood in the crowd beside Jean and Kevin. Andrew took off down the silent path, leading them to the identification tables.

He could see over the peacekeepers' shoulders, David, Matt and Renee lined up along the back of the stage, with their escort, Kathy Ferdinand, standing in front of them. She was talking animatedly to them, with her big blonde hair and eyes practically painted with pink. The skin-tight pink leather dress clung to her to an uncomfortably revealing extent where Andrew had to look away.

"Next." The peacekeeper said and Andrew looked up, seeing Aaron's whole-body flinch. "Go through. Next."

Andrew stepped forward, holding his hand forward. The peacekeeper grabbed his wrist roughly, tugging it forward and pricking the end of his finger. They then pressed it to the paper, scanned it and let him through.

Andrew rushed through, pushing through all the crowds to find his brother. Aaron was waiting nervously, wringing his wrists. Andrew pushed through the crowd until he ended up besides his brother, waiting silently.

"What if we get picked?" Aaron whispered, looking at his brother. Andrew shrugged, keeping his eyes focused on the stage. "Andrew I'm serious." he said before his voice was drowned out by Kathy tapping the microphone.

"Welcome, welcome." she said, smiling at everyone.

The neon yellow contacts she wore made everyone unsettled, but she continued, her cat-like eyes scanning the crowd.

"Welcome to the fifty seventh Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor." She smirked, looking across to the group of people who weren't being reaped, taunting them. "Now, the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and women for the honor of representing district seven in this year's Hunger Games." She stopped for a second, smiling. "As usual, ladies first."

She shuffled across the stage in her overly tight dress and waved her hand over the bowl. A hand skimmed Andrew's wrist and he looked down, seeing Aaron's beside his, the knuckles brushing the black cloth. Andrew slid his hand into his brothers as Kathy waddled back to the microphone.

"Marissa Goodman." Kathy read out, looking across the crowd. People were stepped aside two sections before the twins.

Sixteen years old, Andrew told himself. The girl stepped forward, dressed in a light green dress which skimmed her knees and her hair tied into a tight ponytail.

"Come on up dear, don't be afraid." Four peacekeepers surrounded her, leading her up to the stage. Marissa slowly walked up, and Kathy enthusiastically welcomed her. "And now the boys."

Aaron's grip tightened on his hand as she reached the glass bowl. Kathy smiled, waving her hand around the top before diving in and pulling out one white slip. She slowly shuffled back to the microphone and leant close, undoing the slip slowly. She smirked before reading, "Aaron Michael Minyard."

"I volunteer as tribute." Andrew looked down before he even had acknowledged the words come out of his mouth. He looked back up, seeing everyone staring at him. Aaron was looking at him with tearful eyes.

"Not Andrew." he whispered, but Andrew pushed past. "No. Andrew stop!" he shouted, following him through. Andrew took his place in between the peacekeepers but was dragged back violently. "I won't let you do this." Aaron shouted.

"I volunteer." Andrew repeated, making direct eye contact with Aaron. Aaron shook his head, his mouth opening and closing until the first tear rolled down his cheek and his grip on Andrew's arm loosened.  

Aaron was pulled back quickly, and Andrew recognized the hand around his twin's shoulders immediately. Jean pulled Aaron back, avoiding Andrew's eye. Andrew turned around and followed the peacekeepers down the aisle. Renee was staring at him, shocked, from the back of the stage. Matt's eyes were filled with tears, while Wymack's jaw was clenched.  

Andrew didn't remember as far back as to when he was four, but he knew Wymack's story.

Wymack had trained as hard as he could after losing a close friend to the games when he was twelve. When David turned eighteen, he volunteered himself before the name was even called out. His reasoning was to save one more helpless kid from being killed in his district. This caused him to become a fan favorite in the Capitol, and a respected citizen in the district. In every shop, I have had a discount. Everyone smiled at him in the streets. Everyone welcomed him into their homes and invited him round for dinner.

Every year, when the victors returned, all three of the victors visited the houses of the fallen tributes to mourn with them for one night. They supplied the family with the food for the night and left them all the leftovers. It was a tradition started by Wymack, but when Renee won the forty-fourth Hunger Games, she joined in. And when Matt won the fifty-first Hunger Games, he became the final part of the trio.

Andrew was snapped out of his thoughts when he reached the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the stage. He made eye contact with Renee, who smiled gently at him. He sighed before walking up.

"A volunteer!" Kathy cried, holding her hand out to showcase Andrew's arrival. "Now, what's your name young man?"

"Andrew Joseph Minyard." Andrew said, looking forward.

Jean was finally looking at him, his face contorted with fear. Nicky was beside him, crying into Erik's shoulder. Erik was staring at Andrew in fear while Jesse sobbed, bundled in Betsy's arms. Aaron was crying, while being held back by Kevin.  

"Oh, and was that your brother I picked?" Kathy asked, smiling widely.

"Yes, my twin brother." Andrew answered, trying to keep his voice monotone.

"How lovely." Kathy said before turning to the crowd again. "Here we are. Our tributes from district seven!" She started clapping, but everyone stayed silent.

Jean brought three fingers up to his lips before raising them above his head. Slowly, everyone around him began to do the same, the gesture spreading among the crowd. A single tear rolled down Jean's scarred cheek and Andrew took a deep breath before bringing three fingers to his own lips then raising them above his head.

"Happy Hunger Games!" Kathy cried, "And may the odds be ever in your favor."

They turned away, Kathy leading them both to the door at the back. Andrew flinched away from her touch, overtaking Marissa and pushing himself into the corridor.

"Andrew." Renee said, walking up to him.

"Not." Andrew spat out through gritted teeth.

He would not let himself cry; he would not let himself cry.

"We can talk on the train. I want to say goodbye to them."

November Bet

@hollandlover19​ asked: 

Can you write something where peter is dating the reader and she’s an avenger with similar powers to Wanda meaning she can read his mind and for the past two weeks peter has been horny as fuck and it’s driving him nuts cus he made a bet with Sam and Bucky to see who could survive the longest during no nut November so he’s trying to resist the urge to jack off but the only thing that will calm him down is y/n but she had to go on an emergency mission and won’t be back till later so he just lays in his room crying cuz everything hurts sorry if this is too specific you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to 🖤

Hey there hun! Hope you enjoy! Thank you for sending this in. Just a note: I have no idea how boners feel after a certain amount of time, but I’m assuming it’s really painful since it’s a muscle straining itself?? (i think lmao) But this was interesting to write since I usually put more humor in my writing, and this one turned out sort of sad! Everyone is over the legal age in this piece.

Masterlist is linked in my bio, tags in reblog.

Peter Parker x Reader [Angst with sort of happy ending] Warnings: boner, pain and swearing Word Count: 1.6k

Peter regretted the bet so much now. 

It happened back on the 31st of October, when everyone was resting about, eating junk food and candy. Sam and Bucky had been teasing Peter for almost two weeks now after catching you and Peter getting a bit steamy in one of the weaponry rooms, and he wanted pay back. Peter thought he could control himself for a month because obviously he was able to do it before he reached puberty, so it should be fine! But fuck, did he regret it now, making a bet with Sam and Bucky to see who could survive the longest following the No Nut November challenge.

Day one was normal, he had so much confidence. He only let himself kiss your cheek though, and glance over to you when you would dress during the morning.

But now, two weeks in, he couldn’t fucking handle it. You were too hot. Tonight, was a gala event for Pepper and Tony starting a charity for children with heart problems which would start funding research into heart disease, and funding families who couldn’t afford treatments. You were wrapped in a silky flowing dress that Peter wanted to drool over. The small peaks he’d see over you twirling around, dancing to the classical music, and the fabric would outline your ass perfectly. Fuck, it was too much for him.

He had too many thoughts about it though. He wanted to reach out and squeeze you, spank you, trace every part of your body with his tongue. He wanted to devour you tonight; he wanted to fuck you out of your mind only to bring you back to another orgasm after the last.

Yes, the boner was showing very much.

It didn’t help when you’d look over to him worriedly, and he knew you could hear every single thought of his. It was your power, but you called it a curse. You spoke to him a few days before about how you heard his pleas to make love to you once again, but you reminded him of the bet and what he would have to do if he lost.

The loser had to streak and run across the outdoor gardens of the Compound at any time the winner felt like it; only once though. Peter thought about losing constantly, wishing he could lose, but he knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t let Bucky and Sam win like that, after them teasing him for so long. It would be humiliating, sure, Peter didn’t care much about that. But he cared about it humiliating you as well, he didn’t want them to tease you about it too.

“Baby, want to leave?” You mumbled to Peter, causing him to flinch out of his trance. Peter gazed down at your body for a moment, and cleared his throat, flushing immensely while he looked away. Your curves… he was so in love with everything about you.

“Mm, yeah sorry about this.” Peter signaled down to his boner and he could just imagine how some people had already saw it and started speaking about him, but he just needed to leave. You nodded sympathetically back to him, reaching out and grasping his shoulder to comfort him.

He shrugged your hand off after a shiver went through his body, breathing heavily as another wave of lust flushed through him, “I’m sorry. I- I don’t mean to, it’s just…” He trailed off, glancing back up to your face and seeing you nodding understandably back to him.

“I know, I hear it too. Text Tony and Pepper in an hour and tell them something came up. They’ll be okay with it.” You responded, almost wanting to stay behind to talk with the two more. They were one of the funniest but loveliest couples you met.  You felt close to them, almost as if they had a parental authority over you.

“I will, thank you.” Peter whispered back, gulping nervously as he tried to adjust his forming hard on. He just needed to go take a cold shower as soon as possible, and he already started thinking of strange things.

Deformed candles. Cheetos in beans on someone’s head. Evil cartoon characters. A dictionary with misspelled words.

You giggled, shaking your head at the things he comes up with in his thinking. You walked out of the ballroom with him, distancing yourself and opting to take an uber home instead, so he didn’t feel trapped. You worried about him during this month, realizing how bad it would feel to not nut for a guy.

You wished you could help him, but he wanted to keep the bet going.

When you got back to the Compound, your alarm instantly went off and your eyes widened, realizing you had to leave now. It was an emergency mission, you quickly read through the report, seeing that one of your contacts was revealed and gave up some information that needed to stay private. You rushed as fast as you can, barely sending a text to Peter who just got back to the Compound, saying you needed to leave.

Peter finally opened the text when he fell back on his bed, still struggling. He groaned, feeling his boner build up again, just imagining you out in the field, looking so sweaty and ready for anything. “Fuck…” He whimpered, quickly sitting up. He was worried for you being out there by yourself, but he knew he shouldn’t doubt your abilities. At the same time, he was trying to stop his feelings, because it just furthered his pain.

He cupped his boner, stumbling up and thinking to himself, how long has it been now? He couldn’t help it, thinking about sex. Fuck, it was crazy he wanted to just touch you again, how much he missed touching you was driving him insane. He couldn’t masturbate, he would lose the bet.

The winner also had the benefit of getting the title, “Greatest Person of the Year”, which included perks of people not teasing him and you, and many more. It would be great to have Bucky and Sam off your backs.

He set his phone down while he turned the shower on cold, needing to get in there as soon as possible. Maybe it would work now, but he couldn’t tell if it was too late to help. He still needed you by his side. Whether it was sexual or not, he loved you and needed to be by you.

“Ouch – oh shit.” He whined, coughing as the cold water hit his bare back. He stripped himself as quick as possible, now realizing he kept his socks on. He criticized himself, why’d you leave your socks on? Why are you doing this now?

The shower didn’t help at all. Once his body got used to the temperature, he got flashes of visions of you, from missing you. He groaned out of anger at himself for doing it, and he had to stop himself from palming his boner.

He got out of the shower, rushing to his phone and dialing your mission phone, that was connected to the earpiece you wore. When it connected, he could hear you grunting as you punched one of the people that attacked you.

“P-Peter? What’s up?” You stuttered, breathing heavily as you ran down to the other room, trying to get away for a few seconds to just get your mind together to focus.

“Oh shit- I’m sorry!” Peter rambled, forgetting you were busy. He hit his head and groaned to himself, hearing you on the other side of the phone.

Stop thinking like that idiot! He reminded himself, and you responded to him after a moment of shuffling around in the corner. “It’s okay! Is everything good? You alright, babe?” You whispered, glancing around and picking up one of the objects in the room with one of your powers, focusing it by the doorway to protect yourself.

“Yeah…uh, I’ll get you go. Please be safe. I love you.” Peter sighed out, scratching his hair as he sat by the edge of the bed, hoping you were okay.

You quickly responded to him, “Love you. I’ll be back in a few hours I think, maybe 12 hours tops?” You randomly guessed the time, knowing there was a lot to do. You hung up when you heard someone’s footsteps.

Peter gazed down at his boner, now fully erect and he frowned. The blood hurt so much in his cock; he couldn’t do anything though. He laid back on the bed, his head on his pillow, still naked, knowing any clothing would hurt to put on.

He tried to focus his thinking on something else again, anything. It barely helped, and he ended up squeezing his eyes shut as the pain rumbled through his body, the soreness was too much. He felt a few tears form and start to leak down his face, and he had to remind himself everything would be okay soon.

He rolled over, doing breathing techniques, trying to calm down. The tears wouldn’t stop coming though and he bit his lip, holding back his cries. It must have been ten or twenty minutes later when he pushed the pillow over his head, now having a headache from crying and the pain.

He held the pillow close, trying to block any light from the devices in the room, crying himself to sleep as the pain worsened.

When you got back, you quickly paced over to the room, needing to check Peter. You could tell he was struggling when he spoke to you and you pouted when you opened the door, seeing him laying on the bed. It was upsetting to see him with dried tear stains on the pillows, and you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

His boner was gone now, but you could tell he was probably in pain still. You laid down next to him, holding his arm softly, just hoping this dumb bet would be over soon so he wouldn’t struggle like that again.

As fun as the events and ideas you posted about 19days would be, wouldn’t it also just bring in more negative stuff - like fandom in general has become a field of land mines and I fear that something that’s supposed to fun will turn into some sort of battle. Like how some people get extremely heated over any other ships outside of their fave ship and they cannot possibly have other ships except theirs, etc. The last thing anyone wants is for content creators to be targeted simply for making something they thought would be fun

(This ask and answer is about this post.)

First of all thank you so much for addressing such a big and valid concern. I agree that that has indeed happened in certain fandoms - I can say I've been in the thick of it and witnessed quite the warfare - but in others it has also brought fans and readers and content creators together even closer and tighter in a wonderful thriving community.

I have the feeling this'll get quite long so please proceed under the cut with that in mind.

I believe all things are potential harbingers of both discord and harmony. There will always be people who feel entitled and who want - even demand! the audacity! - authors and artists to create for their ships and their ships alone. And there will also always be people who can appreciate the writing and the art without judgemental treatment regarding the pairings/characters depicted, no matter their preferences.

All of that happens and will continue to happen, whether we go forward with these events or not. And yet authors will still write what they want to write, artists will still draw what they want to draw, graphic designers will still make the edits they want to make as well. What we could do, in this small and close knit fandom, is take in our hands this powerful rich opportunity and try our best to make a model of positivity out of it.

In these events, there would be no bashing or shaming allowed. The content created would be to be enjoyed by those who are attracted to it, and those who do not have a taste for that fanwork in particular would be asked to remain respectful. (As it should always be.) There would be no ship wars in these spaces. Discourse, hate-speech or anti-behaviour would not be tolerated by the moderators of the event.

Creators who indulged in it would be immediately disqualified. Any unnecessary commentary or complaints from the audience would be deleted and reported as spam. Anyone instigating conflict would be only painting a target on their back, really. Because most of us - I dare say - are only here to appreciate the brilliant artwork and fanfiction woven and crafted by the talented people who share it with us.

If it came to it and it escalated, this hellsite has several tools that can be put to use to that regard. Accounts could be blocked and/or even reported. They wouldn't be able to interact with the blogs created to run these events from then on. We would be able to create a black list and post it publicly so everyone else who wished to could simply block those unruly pesky accounts and remain at peace and free to enjoy themselves to their utmost.

Let us not forget that this is all fiction and it's all for fun. Everyone's allowed to have their own opinion, likes and dislikes. There simply is no need to step on anyone else and their interests to elevate them.

Let's exemplify, for the sake of clarity:

Do I personally ship A with B? Imagine I do not. I do not search for it. If I come across it? I scroll past it. Once or twice, I may even like - and even reblog - if it happens to catch my attention and it's well written/drawn! (I have tags along the lines of 'I don't ship it but' and 'look at this beautiful art' or 'drown in the power of these words.')

It's so easy to interact amongst ourselves without coming with pitchforks at one another. Know what actually needs effort? Being a meanie and a party popper! Who in their right mind wastes their time on things they don't care for? Dum dums, that's who! Of course, we're all dummies at times... and that's okay! Let's just not harass people or crash their fun while we're at it!

If nothing else: you wouldn't like if others did this or that to you, therefore don't do it to others. It's a simple concept to grasp.

Very important: in these events, every single piece would be explicitly and properly tagged and warned for right at the very top of each post, so there would be absolutely no excuses for anyone being nasty.

We would just have to be open to the experience. Enjoy our ships and let other enjoy theirs. We do not have to all like the same thing. That would be just boring. But we can cohabitate devoid of trouble in fandom. Each one of us just has to be respectful. No need to even be nice. No one has to compliment something they don't like. They also don't have to step on what others do.

Don't like a ship/character/theme? Don't read stories focused on it. Don't put down authors who write it or readers who enjoy it. Same for art. No need to shout about how awful it is just for the simple reason that it does not fit into your personal shipping preferences. It can still be still be a tasty and wonderfully baked cake, it's just that you're not fond of vanilla or strawberries. It's okay. There are all kinds of cake for everyone's tastes!

Further examples: If a ship happens to be a NOTP for me or I don't care for the character(s)? I filter the tags. All of them. Any and every tag I can think of. It's very easy to protect ourselves on Tumblr from content we do not wish to see. (My own list is huge and just as effective.) Filtering is incredibly important.

So go ahead and filter out the ships you can do without! Filter out porte-manteaux like Tianshan, Zhanyi, Qiucheng, Tianxi, Tianyi, Lishan, Litian, Liyi, Shantou, Polydays, (...) Filter out any ship tag that doesn't strike your fancy like Q x MGS, HC x JY's mom, (...) Filter out characters that aren't your cuppa tea like HT, HT's dad, SL, JY's mom, XH, (...)

Make it safe for yourself and for others. That way you won't rage at the sight of your NOTP, won't feel the compulsive need to trash the people who ship it, no one is hurt and everyone is happy!

There are many steps we could follow to prevent rotten eggs in our coop. And many more actions we could take to throw them out if need be. I firmly believe, however, that if we're all of the same mind everything would go well and with very few bumps along the way.

If we only ever feared the possible negative consequences of our actions, never taking the risk for the possible positive ones, we'd never get anything done. I say let's not let our beloved fandom stagnate or dry out. Let's incentivate and motivate and inspire! Let's share! Let's have fun!

Think of it in these terms: it wouldn't be a competition at all but rather a charity event. Performers and spectators coming together for a common good, raising content and spreading joy! There would be no winners or losers or prizes. What would matter would be good old-fashioned participation, both by providing content and/or consuming it.

It could also a good way to get people to express themselves more. Many content consumers tend to lurk or keep to themselves even if they like the content posts. (I used to be one myself and only a couple months ago started to come out of my shell.) I myself advocate for reblogging instead of liking - if you have to choose one or the other, I mean, why not do both? - and leaving a word on every single post I like and/or reblog. Sometimes I go nuts commenting, sometimes I leave a small note in the tags.

It doesn't matter how. Even if you're shy or introverted (*raises hand*) or don't know what to say I guarantee a single emoticon or a string of disordered letters symbolising incoherence will make the creator's day all the same. Getting feedback is so important and motivational for creators and also a great way for fandom members to keep in touch and support each other.

Additionally, if a person would like more of a certain type of content here are some healthy actions they could take: a) commission a creator and pay for it if they can; b) politely make a suggestion to a creator with an open ask box; c) post a prompt publicly for possible interested creators to use; d) do it yourself and share it with others!

This turned out into more of a "behavioural guidelines" thing than I'd have liked. I am not in any way whatsoever telling anyone what to do. This is what I do, and it works wonders for me. I stay completely out of toxic arguments and in on all the goodies. I'm able to fully enjoy my fandoms. And isn't that what we all want?

Thank you again for sharing your thoughts with me. And I apologise for the long rant!

Of course, this is only my personal stance on the issue. I did go for a survey first exactly for this end, to get their opinions on the subject and see if it would be worth a shot. I shall hope many other people will think as I do, but I will wholly respect those who don't.

Steadfast

Characters: Childe, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,241

Warnings: Swearing, Angst

Premise: He’d always assured you that he wouldn’t change, that he was still the man he was before. And yet how different things were, and how much it hurt to see what had come to pass.

In which the reader sees the changes in Childe

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for this request anon! Really from the bottom of my heart thank you. I really liked the concept of this prompt, I feel like it really gave me an opportunity to focus on how relationships change and grow, rather than always writing about new couples, or people just beginning to fall in love, although there is of course that involved. It’s interesting to see how people grow and change, even if it can be a little sad sometimes. Writing this was kind of depressing, I hope that this wasn’t too sad, considering you requested hurt comfort. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away…

Funny story, I actually hate one of the people Childe shares a name with. Look what you did to Cassandra Ajax the Lesser, look what you did… So to make up for this unfortunate coincidence I pronounce the names differently in my mind. Ajax the Lesser is pronounce “A-jack-s” and Childe’s name is pronounced “Ai-axe”.

I decided not to bullet point this, as I feel like it works better in a more “traditional format”, that being said if bullet points are easier to read I can go back and fix that.

When you’d first fallen in love with Ajax it had been before the change.

Back then everything with him had seemed so exciting, like stepping into the sea for the first time. You were a bit afraid, worried that you might be swept away all at once, but another part of you wanted to run straight ahead, to immerse yourself in this new and exciting experience. Wanted to keep going and never look back.

 You’d known Ajax since before you could remember. The two of you had grown up in the same small village, where one could hardly take five steps without bumping into someone, and being close in age had made you automatic playmates. Ajax was a brash child, not always easy to get along with, but impossible to pull away from. Even when he knocked you to the ground, or sat on you so you couldn’t move, declaring himself the winner of whatever you’d been playing, you’d still run to meet him the next day, the tears you’d shed utterly forgotten. Childhood friends might’ve been a cliché, but it was truly then that Ajax as a person had begun to stick in your mind.

This only continued throughout the course of your adolescence. Attending the same schools you two were nearly inseparable, causing you merciless teasing from the rest of your classmates. Ajax apparently got the same treatment, resulting in him decking a kid who declared you two were going to get married when you grew up. He’d been suspended for a few days, but never seemed to regret it, and when you’d gone over to his house to ask about it he’d grinned as usual, proclaiming he’d gladly do it again.

Growing up was a difficult process, so many snags and pitfalls, new anxieties, and old ones that you’d never truly worried about before. But it was all perfectly fine with Ajax there. He was always ready to pick you up, and flash you a smile to go along with his help. No wonder you found yourself hopelessly infatuated him, years of trust and affection building up to the newfound feeling of love.

 And then Ajax went missing.

You still remembered the terror that shocked your system when his mother visited, tone unnervingly light, asking if you and Ajax weren’t playing some type of game. You’d bolted outside when she’d revealed Ajax had gone missing, running towards the woods that was the only exit to the village where you lived. The adults had quickly caught up to you, but your fears had already grabbed hold, and you found yourself confronted with all you felt for him. You loved Ajax. How did this happen? Love was still so foreign, a word you could throw around but never truly catch. And yet you loved him, you loved him very much. And now he was gone.

They didn’t let you see him initially, saying he was tired, he needed rest, he’d be alright in a few days. Your imagination had run wild, your mind spinning a terrible story. Perhaps he’d been mortally wounded, perhaps he could no longer see, made blind from the snow and the cold. Perhaps he wasn’t really back, and they were simply lying to make you happy. These thoughts chased you, and it was only when you saw him again that your heart settled, even if a part of you whispered that Ajax was altogether changed.

He’d begun to leave the village. Though no one quite knew where he was you certainly knew a lot of brawling was involved. He’d sometimes sneak into your house, in a last ditch effort to keep his parents and the rest of his family from finding out how much he’d truly changed. You’d cried sometimes, seeing him with black eyes and bruising, slashes of red marring his hands, his arms, his face. He didn’t like to see you cry, would start scolding you, as if it was some fault of yours to feel worried, to care for someone who already was growing into a stranger. He always realized his fault though, and after a little while he’d pat the spot next to him. You’d sit down, head sometimes on his shoulder, listening as he spun his tales of greatness into the night, as if he were a knight fighting a great dragon and its army, rather than a troubled new adult with nowhere to turn to in terms of understanding.

 When he’d ask you to be his partner you thought you’d never feel unhappy again. You felt like you were on air, kept grounded only by his arms around you, his heart beating steadily against your ear as you nestled against his chest. You could tell he was happy too, and though it amazed you slightly that he should be as in love with you as you were with him, you could only thank the Tsaritsa and every other archon under the stars, thank them for being so generous as to give you all you ever wanted.

It seemed such a funny thought in retrospect, when it was the Tsaritsa herself who was now tearing him away from you.

 “Ajax, how could you?!” Your voice felt odd to your ears, somehow too thin, distant, as if someone else was saying it. “You knew, you knew that you’d have to join the Fatui. So why, why in the name of the Seven did you start that fight!”

“They were asking for it!” Ajax’s voice was just as raw, frustration mixed with something unknown. Entitlement perhaps, fear otherwise. “You should’ve heard the things they said about me, about my family. How they’d raised a good for nothing thief, a shithead who knew nothing more than how to swing a sword, and who would one day meet someone bigger than him, and die in the street, given to the rats, utterly forgotten. I had to prove them wrong! It was a matter of honor!”

“It was a matter of ego!” You cried, feeling the ground spin slightly underneath you. “How could you let them goad you like that Ajax, goad you when you knew exactly what was going to happen.” Sitting down you put your head in your hands. The world was shattering around you, and there was no one to blame for it except the one you loved the most.

“My darling, please, I don’t want to fight.” Ajax knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in his as you raised your head to face him.

“You always want to fight…” you replied, voice hoarse, pitched barely above a whisper. “And now you’re leaving, leaving to be part of an organization of cowardliness and deceit. What happened to the adventures you were going to have? What happened to the dragons you were going to slay?”

“I’ll get them yet.” There was amusement in Ajax’s voice, but it was clearly forced, and soon forgotten about. “I promise it’ll be alright, my darling I would never do anything to knowingly hurt you.”

And yet you have, you thought. You’ve run a dagger through my heart, and now your talking to me as if I’m not being destroyed by it. It hurts, it hurts so damn much.

“You’re going away.” You finally replied. “You’re going away to a place that will only destroy you more. And now things will never be the same again. Haven’t you wondered about what will happen to you there? If you’ll ever be allowed to return home? Haven’t you wondered whether or not you’ll ever see your family again? Things will never be the same again Ajax, never. You’ve crossed the chasm, and now you cannot return.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Ajax placed a hand on your cheek. “I promise nothing will change. I will always be myself my darling. This is only a stepping stone, a piece of my journey. I promise, I promise I will always remain as I am. And I’ll never forget about you, nor my family, nor this village. Nothing is going to change. I’ll make sure it won’t. So stop crying my darling; tears never looked good on you anyways.”

And yet, how things have already changed. Still, you said nothing, instead wiping your eyes and pressing your forehead against Ajax’s. His familiar presence was reassuring, and you thought of the years ahead of you, perhaps the eternity ahead of you, when you could no longer rely on him being there. Your eyes welled with tears again, and this time you made no move to stop them. You let yourself cry. If there was anything in the world worth crying about, surely this was one of those things.

 There was a new name signed in Ajax’s letters. “Childe” was the first name, “Tartaglia” was the second. They seemed to mar the page somewhat, written in Ajax’s – no, Childe’s – bold, slashing script. You hated the names, hated the memories they stirred up, reminders of all you’d lost in such a small amount of time.

The day you’d found out Childe was to become a Harbinger you’d raged as you’d never raged before. Locking yourself in the small apartment you’d managed to find – having moved out of Morepesok once the memories had become too oppressive – you’d spent most of your time reading the letter over and over and over.

He’d wanted you to attended, writing you were basically his family at this point, and besides, he wanted to show you to the Tsaritsa. Though the line about family filled your heart with no little affection, you’d refused flat out. It would’ve been too painful, seeing the crux of his transformation; the death of Ajax, the birth of Tartaglia. Childe had said nothing to your refusal, but he was clearly worried, and for a while afterwards the letters were more frequent. But even that stopped after a while, and now you savored what little information you could get, the torn pages of last month’s note a testimony to how much you reread them.

You wished that you could somehow end this purgatory you’d found yourself in. Though you’d begun your own career by now, pushing yourself to your limits as you were sure Childe was doing in his, nothing seemed so important as the drama that had comprised your entire life. How long had you known Childe? You could no longer remember. Long ago, so very long ago. Back when the world was simpler, comprised only of candy from one of the big cities, and fighting over the best fishing rod. Tears were shed over particularly brutal games of tag, then forgotten the next day. How odd that world seemed now, something you could never go back to.

 Every once in a while you’d be met not by a letter, but by a visit. Those were the best days. The days where you could set all your worries and your unease away. When you could once more press your ear against Childe’s chest and feel the steady beating of his heart. As long as you could do that, maybe it’d be alright.

“How’s my darling?” Childe’s voice carried down the hall of your apartment. You’d dropped the letter you’d been reading, his letter, and ran towards the entrance. Throwing yourself in his arms you wept tears of joy. Childe returned the embrace just as enthusiastically, though his eyes were dry. They’d changed, his eyes, or perhaps you’d just learned to notice the hardness that resided in them. “I’m home.” Childe murmured, eyes closed, expression one of perfect bliss. “Don’t worry beloved, I’m home.”

His presence never left yours the days he came to visit. Always there was an arm slung around your waist, or a chin resting on your shoulder or your head. His presence was as comforting as ever, and you soaked it in gladly. He’d changed. Not that you were surprised by that, of course he’d changed. His confidence was much more calculated, his words now slicked with flattery and deceit. He easily persuaded the fishmonger to give you a discount, and some sweet talk with the waiter at a café you frequented earned you a free lemon loaf. You took it, knowing that he just wanted to treat you, but the sugary confection stuck to the roof of your mouth, which had somehow developed a bitter taste.

You said nothing about it. There was no longer any point in arguing. You two were tied together by all sorts of strings. History, location, youth, love. And yet you’d gone your own separate ways. No more were the dreams of adventuring together. The real world had come along and stolen it away. The Tsaritsa had ripped that future from your grasp, and with it went your happiness.

“Are you happy, my love?” Childe asked late one evening. You were cuddled on the small couch in what comprised your living room. You nestled against Childe, breathing him in. Were you happy? No. But in that moment you weren’t unhappy either. In that moment you could forget it all.

“Do you think that sailors feel lonely?” You asked instead, drawing circles absentmindedly on the palms of Childe’s hands. He wore gloves now, expensive ones, not like the mittens that were popular in Snezhnaya. It was so odd to watch him put them on each morning. How things had changed. “They must be lonely,” you continued now, “for there’s nothing but the ship, the water, and the stars above.”

Childe paused, staring off into the distance. He did that a lot recently. You didn’t begrudge him it. Sometimes, when he was in a frank sort of mood, he admitted that he didn’t like the Fatui’s underhanded nature. Better to fight something head on than attack from the shadows. He’d quickly added on that it was the Tsaritsa’s wish, and surely she must know better than him. But it must’ve been difficult, following a path so different than the one you were born to. Betraying your nature, every day of your life.

“It must be lonely sometimes.” He finally replied, glancing back at you. “But I don’t think they’re lonely, no. The stars may be far away, but they’re steadfast, unchanging. And sailors will always be able to rely on them.” You were silent, considering his views.

“Still... stars are so very cold.”

“Perhaps, but they’re also beautiful, are they not? And like I said, who ever heard of a star changing?” A pause, as it seemed Childe was steadying himself, dipping into unpleasant territory. “I hope I will always be your star, my love. I hope you will always be able to rely on me.”

“I will.” You promised, giving Childe a quick kiss. You meant it, even if you weren’t sure that the metaphor was apt. Childe was forever changing; his mannerisms, his name, his location, his words. Sometimes it seemed as if there was nothing left of Ajax, nothing but a small sliver of light, shivering in the darkness that was fate.

“And I will always remained steadfast in my love for you.” Childe promised in return. “For there is nothing more important to me than family, and you are my family. You are that which I hold closest to my heart, and I’ll never stop loving you. I promise.”

His words were smoother than they had been before, polished by the need to be appealing to those who heard it. But you knew they were true. All throughout your life, throughout the pain, the hardship, the feeling of slowly falling off a cliff, all throughout that the one thing that remained was the love between you and Childe. Even if you had nothing, at least you had that.

“Childe?” He grimaced at the word and you paused. “Ajax,” you began again, “are you happy?”

Childe didn’t reply, instead leaning over to kiss you. You reciprocated it gladly, not truly wanting an answer to your question, although a part of you desperately needed it. Was Childe happy? You couldn’t tell. But despite your newfound hatred for the Tsaritsa, your disdain for the gods which had grown in the years of your hardship, your long abandoned faith, you still prayed to the Seven that Childe was happy. Because he deserved it. Because you loved him.

 You tried not to cry when he left, wanting to see him off with a smile and a wave, the way noble men and women would wave to the knights who were on their way to save the kingdom. But always your voice betrayed you, cracking and shaking, trembling violently against the knowledge that you wouldn’t see your loved one again, not for a very long time.

“Be careful.” You whispered, giving Childe one last hug.

“I will.” He assured you, kissing your forehead. “You be careful as well my love, I couldn’t stand it something were to happen to you. If anything happens, think of me, I’ll rush to your side immediately.”

“Don’t forget to write,” you replied, switching the subject so you didn’t have to think about the implications of Childe abandoning the Fatui, what might happen to him if he tried, “your letters are all I have.”

“I hope that’s not true!” Childe said, tone full of false mirth. “I hope you’re happy beloved, I hope you find happiness when I’m gone. Your life ought not to be spent waiting for me.”

“But you’re all I have.” You replied, staring down at the ground. “Everything has changed. My home, my work, my future. Even you’ve changed, you just keep changing and changing, running farther and farther away. But you’re still all I have. And I have to hold on to you, no matter what.”

Childe brought his hand to your cheek, raising your gaze up.

“I’m not changing my darling. No matter what I do, no matter where I go, I’m still Ajax. I’m still the man who wants to spend his life with you, who wants to travel the world with you, fighting monsters, sleeping under the stars at night. I’m still the man who wants to wake up with you every night and go to bed with you every morning. I’ll never run ahead of you, I’ll never leave you behind. Because if I’m all you have then you are what keeps me myself. You are why I can still be Ajax. And that will never change. So don’t despair, and don’t let yourself be swallowed up while I’m gone. Live your life to the fullest, I promise I’ll always be there, waiting for when you need me.”

 Childe waved from the ship he’d boarded until it disappeared over the horizon. You waved back, even as your arm ached and your hand fell asleep. “Goodbye.” You whispered to the wind. There was no reply, but then again you weren’t looking for one.

Childe, Ajax, Tartaglia. These names all belonged to the one you loved. He was a whirlwind, a rogue current which had knocked you off your feet, carrying you into uncertainty. And yet you welcomed him, longed for him, loved him with all your soul.

Even if things kept changing, even if the Fatui’s hold on him only grew stronger, you’d still believe in him. He was your star, guiding you through a desolate ocean. Even if he sometimes disappeared behind the clouds, he’d always be there. You had to believe that, had to trust him.

He was your star after all.

Your Childe.

Your Ajax.

in the stars - chapter 1

photo credit: @ssahotchnerr

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, show rating 16+ for reference. depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, drinking, brief mention of drugs.

summary - You finally meet the BAU, little progress is made in terms of the case. 

a/n - early update yay! i take a lot of liberties with movies that reader has starred in, pls dont take irl movie release dates into consideration here lol. more notes at the end 

blog rules 

masterlist // read it on ao3 here 

prologue // next chapter 

-----

Chapter 1 

Flights to California always took an extra toll on the team. Reid had explained it once, in a too long ramble, how the wind worked against the plane lengthening the flight at least an hour longer than the trip back home. 

Hotch was finding it difficult to focus on the files in front of him. The first photo he opened was of victim #3, with her eyes closed and face turned to the side, even Hotch could’ve been fooled that it was you lying there dead. While the rest of the team was mulling over the facts of the case, he was debating whether or not to tell the team about your history. The Unit Chief in him knew this was important information that had the potential to hinder the case; his relationship to you was too personal and his withholding of information could even turn him into a suspect. If the roles had been reversed with another member of the team, he’d have concerns over their ability to even be on the case. For now, Hotch forced himself to tune into the conversation the rest of the team was having; promising himself he’d figure out what to do later. 

“Garcia, what do we know about L/N,” Emily asked, turning ever so slightly towards the screen Garcia had just popped up on. 

“I’m glad you asked my dear Emily. Y/N L/N is totally Hollywood’s It Girl right now, it’s rumored you can’t even get a meeting with her without forking over at least twenty big ones. She’s never had a bad role in her career. Personally, my favorite movie she starred in was Mamma Mia, but like I said never a bad role,” Garcia paused for a moment, the sound of her typing filling the silence, “is it inappropriate for me to ask one of you to get her signature for-”

“Garcia,” Rossi interjected, “anything else we need to know about her right now?” 

“Sorry sir, I promise to be on my best professional behavior. But come on, remember when she swept the Oscars three years-”

Hotch felt himself detach from the conversation yet again, staring out the window as memories of the two of you flooded his brain. 

Three Years Ago 

The team had just finished a grueling case in Georgia. It was long, taking nearly two weeks to catch the unsub, in which he had managed to murder three additional couples right under their noses. Inclement weather forced them to stay another night until the storm passed, leaving them all stranded by the airport. In a turnaround way, being stuck gave them the rare opportunity to relax and bond as a team. Rather than all disappear to their own rooms for the night, they all packed into one small hotel room. Boxes of Chinese takeout were littered around the room, along with various bottles of alcohol. The Oscars were on that night and Hotch knew you’d be on the screen at some point, not wanting to miss it he proposed watching it to the team and they all happily agreed. While it was difficult with their schedules to be avid movie goers, they all were relatively familiar with the contenders for big awards such as Best Picture and Best Actor. 

You were nominated for two separate awards that night, along with starring in a film nominated for Best Picture. It had been a monumental year for you, with three separate feature films hitting theaters and all becoming major successes both financially and socially. You had spent so much time jet setting for press conferences and movie tours that you rivaled Aaron in terms of suitcase living. 

“Everyone shut up! They’re about to do Best Supporting Actress, oh I just know it’s going to be Y/N. Emily agree with me! We saw her in Little Women together, I cried. Oh don’t give me that look Emily, you cried too and you know it!” Penelope said enthusiastically, waving her chopsticks around. It was rare that Garcia ever came with on a case, but the location had been in a remote part of the state and they wanted to avoid being unable to reach her and her technical wizardry; a fact she was particularly grateful for, had this watch party been happening without her, she would’ve been so jealous.  

To anyone else, the grin on Hotch’s face would have been easily equated to the bickering going on between his friends and the effects of the few drinks he had thrown back. It was all for you though, he had caught glimpses of you on screen throughout the night and had snuck more than one glance at his phone to see the pictures of your outfit you’d sent him yourself. When the presenters walked on stage, Hotch sat up a bit straighter, his body naturally inching closer to the edge of his seat. The screen set up so the faces of all nominees and their reactions could be seen, Hotch’s eyes glued to the box you were in. 

“And the winner of Best Supporting Actress goes to…,” the first presenter started, slowly opening the envelope they held, “Y/N L/N!” The crowd roared and the camera focused in on you sitting stunned in your seat, surrounded by coworkers and friends. The team was cheering too, the liquor in their system loosening everyone up. Hotch clapping uncharacteristically loud and long even went unnoticed by the others. 

“I was right, I knew it!! I should start betting on this, you know what I bet I could hack into the system-” Garcia’s voice barely even registered in Hotch’s brain as he watched you. With one hand clasped over your mouth and the other holding your dress you made your way up the stairs and to the center of the stage. 

“Wow,” you started, eyes wide as you stared down at the award in your hands, slowly you looked back up into the crowd and continued, “I really mean it when I say I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t even prepare a speech, I’m so sorry,” you paused again, the biggest smile plastered on your face as you quickly wiped a few tears threatening to fall, “thank you all so much, for supporting me and letting me do what I love. Thank you to my fellow coworkers who pushed me in this project and thank you so much to the fans who give me the strength to do this every day. Thank you! Thank you so much!” You ended, making your way back towards your seat. Hotch grinned as you flashed a wide smile to the camera following you, throwing a flirty winky that he knew was just for him.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. When you won again for Best Actress, you were barely able to contain yourself on stage, tears flowing freely down your face as you gave your thanks. The joy you felt in that moment was unlike anything you’d ever experienced in your life. At just 24, you had become the first person ever to win both awards in the same night. Hotch had actually jumped out of his seat at your second win, a motion that confused the rest of the team, but the liquor in everyone’s system forced them to ignore it; more glad than anything to see Hotch loosening up for once. 

After the team finally retreated into their own rooms for the night, Hotch wasted no time in texting you, asking if you were free to talk on the phone. His excitement palpable when not even a minute later your contact came up on the screen. 

“Aaron,” your excited voice came through the phone, just being able to hear you eased tension he wasn’t even aware he had been carrying, “can you believe it!” 

“Congratulations, Miss Double Oscar winner.” Even after a year of being together, his voice made you giddy. “Where are you?” He asked, unable to ignore the pounding sound of music and people in the background. 

“After party, top secret location Mr. Agent. I’m in the bathroom! Am I allowed to tell you I definitely see some residue of a line on the counter,” your voice was slurred and rushed, the energy of the moment combined with the liquor in your system causing your mouth to move faster than your brain, “probably not, ignore that. Where are you?” 

Aaron relayed various info about closing the case and what the team had gotten up to that night. When you began telling him about your night, he couldn’t help but feel insecure. Where he told you about $8 takeout meals and rural Georgia, you were talking about some of the biggest names in Hollywood and the luxury treatment you’d been subject to all night. He forced himself to focus on your voice anyway; not wanting to take this time ‘with’ you for granted. The two of you could’ve talked for hours, had it not been for Hotch pushing you to go enjoy the celebrations. 

“I’m so proud of you angel,” he said softly, voice swelling with adoration, “I’ll see you soon, I promise.” 

“I love you Aaron.” 

“I love you too Y/N.” 

When he finally hung up, he leaned against the wall with a sigh, running his hands through his hair. Relationship wise, it had been a tough year for the two of you. With your schedule busier than you’d ever expected, it meant seeing each other in person was nearly impossible. In good conscience you refused to take him away from Jack on the rare weekends he had off. Instead you’d fly in whenever possible, the two of you spending low profile nights together in fancy hotels or his house if Jack was away with friends. It was excruciating maintaining a relationship like this, but something about the success of the night made the sacrifices feel worth it. 

Present Day

“Look into her dating history, any exes that would want to hurt her?” JJ asked, her question pulling Hotch back into the present. Adjusting to the constant publicity you were subject to had been a learning curve for Hotch, the first time the tabloids ran a story of you photographed with some Hollywood Hunk his bad mood had the entire team walking on eggshells for a week. 

“According to my search she hasn’t dated anyone in years, or at least not publicly. I have a theory she’s secretly dating Henry Ca-.” Hotch zoned back out before Garcia could finish, having no interest in hearing or seeing whoever the media was speculating to be involved with you this time. Willing the plane to land faster, he ignored the faint voice in the back of his head that was telling him you were free to be with whoever you wanted. 

----

“If you’d follow me Miss L/N, the BAU has set up in the back conference room, they’ve been waiting for you.” Officer Reynolds said, her back to you as you followed her down the hallway. It was nearly 9am and you had spent the better half of the morning hyping yourself up to see Aaron for the first time in nearly two years. You made last second adjustments to your outfit; an outfit you definitely hadn’t spent all of last night picking out because you definitely did not want to look good for Aaron Hotchner. As Officer Reynolds moved to open the door you held your breath, thanking the years of experience in manipulating your outward expressions. When four heads turned in unison to look at you, you let out a sigh of relief. Aaron wasn’t in the room. 

“This is Y/N L/N. Miss L/N, meet the BAU,” Officer Reynolds said, extending her arm outwards towards the rest of the room, “I’ll leave you guys to do introductions, if you need anything, find me,” and with that she exited the room. A blonde woman stepped forward first, extending her hand out to you. You knew who she was before she even said her name. 

“My name is Jennifer Jareau, I’m the media liaison with the BAU.” She said, she gave you the same smile all the other officers had been giving you, but unlike theirs that reeked of pity, something in Jennifer’s felt authentic to you. After shaking hands with her, the rest of the room took a moment to introduce themselves. You never thought you’d meet Aaron’s team like this. Over the years, he had shown you countless photos of the team, along with hundreds of stories and tidbits concerning their lives. Even though you knew they had probably spent the entire flight to LA looking at your life, it still felt as if you had some creepy advantage over the situation. 

“The rest of our team, Agents Hotchner and Morgan, are currently doing some research in the field, but until they return we’d love to brief you and ask you a few questions, is that alright?” JJ asked, stepping backwards and motioning for you to take a seat at the round table. 

“Of course,” you quickly replied, moving to take a seat; internally you were laughing at the irony of her asking if it was alright, what would you do, say no? Looking up at the other three members still standing you motioned for them to sit as well, “I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but I’d prefer if you all sat down too,” you paused, before adding, “kinda makes me feel like I’m back at school.” They seemed to smile at that, everyone else moving to find a seat at the table. Before the silence could turn uncomfortable, JJ spoke up again. 

“Does anyone else in your life know about the murders?” 

You shook your head no before replying, “my agent knows just in case I have to go underground and my security guard is aware, but besides them and the police, I haven’t told anyone.” 

“Go underground?” 

“Uh yea, a few years ago I had a stalker. I went ‘underground’ for about three months and the guy seemed to give up. The police have already cleared him, he hasn’t been to LA in over a year,” you explained. 

“That’s good to know. We want to keep your involvement in the case completely out of the media. I can only imagine you want that too,” JJ started, angling her body towards you, “I know you’re probably more than well versed in dealing with the press, but if anyone comes up to you asking about the murders we want you to completely disengage. And of course, don’t tell anyone else about what’s going on.” 

“Alright, now that that’s settled, we just have a couple questions for you,” Emily asked as she stood up, opening up a file from the table, “so what can you tell us about-” 

----

The dump site wasn’t showing any promise. Situated near a highway, the field was hidden from the road, yet still accessible by car. The constant stir caused by the speeding cars meant any leftover DNA or footprints were effectively blown away. 

“Our guy’s gotta be fit. The drop into the field is just steep enough he would’ve had to carry the body at least fifty feet to get it here from the road. He could’ve rolled it, but the bodies were too pristine to have been dropped on the ground like that.” Derek said, looking over at Hotch. The two of them were standing at the edge of the road, looking down at the now empty field. “Not only that, but this is a nice spot. Normally places like this so close to a highway are filled with trash, do you think he might’ve cleaned up?” 

Hotch was silent as he considered this, before slowly nodding, “it’d make sense if he did. Everything we have concerning his treatment to the victims post mortem has been nothing but affectionate.” 

“Do you think there could be two unsubs?” Derek asked, when Hotch looked at him with mild confusion he continued, “All the victims were strangled to death, ME report assumes it was by hand. It takes a lot of strength and persistence to kill someone by hand like that, not only that but it’s intimate, he’s staring them in the face as he kills them. The level of care displayed here seems way more than just remorse.” 

Hotch took another moment to consider Derek’s proposition before shaking his head, “we’ll keep it in mind, but it’s clear whatever connection he has to L/N is personal, at least to him. These women could be failing to replicate some part of her personality and in his rage he kills them. But when they’re silent and unmoving, their likeness to L/N lets him fall back into the fantasy, hence the care.” 

“We should start heading back, Reid just texted me they’re almost done with the initial briefing with L/N, and we should meet her before she takes off for the day.” Derek said, putting his phone back in his pocket before turning on his heel to head back to the car. Hotch’s shoulders tensed at the idea of seeing you, looking back at the field once more. Giving the field one last look, he felt a shiver run up his spine at the idea of finding you in a field like this. Shaking the idea out of his, he turned to join Derek in the car. 

Hotch took the driver's seat, glad to be able to use the road as a needed distraction from the impending face to face. The drive was only twenty minutes, but Hotch didn’t think any time would truly be long enough to prepare himself to see you again. He found himself wondering if anything would be different from the last time he saw you. Did you still smell the same? You had always been quite adamant about your preference for scented lotion, rather than perfumes. What if you completely changed your hair? Were you worrying about seeing him as much as he was? 

“You think she’s gonna be easy to work with?” Derek asked, breaking Hotch out of his mental spiral. 

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, you know, “Hollywood’s It Girl”,” Derek explained, “if she’s as in demand as Garcia said she was-”

“While we work this case Morgan, I expect you to conduct yourself appropriately,” Hotch interjected, his voice tight, “we treat Y/N the way we would anyone else, do I make myself clear?” His eyes not leaving the road at all, knuckles tight around the steering wheel. 

“Crystal,” Derek responded, raising his hands up in mock surrender. 

As they turned into the parking lot, Hotch scanned the parking lot before finally noticing your car parked in the back of the lot. You used to always park as far as you could, constantly complaining about how people in parking lots stressed you out and you wanted to be able to drive in and out as easy as possible. The corners of his lips turned up, ever so slightly, thinking maybe nothing had really changed for you, at least in that regard. 

“You go ahead, I’m just going to send a message to Jack real quick,” Hotch lied, pulling his phone from his pocket. Derek nodded and got out of the car, quickly entering the building. Hotch put his phone down in his lap and gripped the steering wheel once more. You were one of the few people to ever wind him up this way; it had been like that from the first day he met you, as if you managed to make him melt under your gaze. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes to pull himself together before letting the Unit Chief in him take over. 

----

“I’m sorry, I just, can I take a break,” you asked, looking up at the agents who were still grilling you about facets of your life you never would’ve considered relevant, “I just need to get some air.” Without really waiting for permission, you were pushing back on your chair to stand up. Slinging on your thin jacket you exited the room, heading for the entrance of the building. The agents had been kind, but you were starting to feel a bit useless. Each time they had a new theory, you came up short in terms of material for them to actually use. They kept reassuring you that what you were able to come up with was helpful, but you weren't convinced. 

You had been in and out of this office so many times, your body went into autopilot as you made your way to the entrance, not even pausing to look up as you started to push open the door. What you missed was the distinct outline of a body pulling the door open at the same time. The added force made you stumble, nearly crashing straight into the man on the other side. Brown eyes met yours and you both froze, uncertain of what to say before speaking at the same time. 

“Y/N.”

“Agent.”

-----

a/n - wow wow! things are gonna start moving in the next chapter, i promise. the response to ‘in the stars’ so far has been so heartwarming. ive said it before, but this is my first fic and i cant even fathom that people are actually interested in what im writing. your support means the world! im trying to get stuff written before university starts up again, but i dont want to nix quality for faster updates so if updates slow down im sorry! comments always appreciated. leave a reply or ask if youd like to be added to the taglist! if you requested before but arent added, just ask again i mustve missed it on accident 

Taglist: @mac99martin​ @iwaizumiee​ @kylorendrip​ @hqtchner​ @lieswithoutfairytales​ @ssahoodrathotchner​ @midsummernightdream​ @weasleylovers​ @evans-dejong​

no permission is given to republish or upload my fics anywhere else. if you see this story not on my tumblr or ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own criminal minds or any of the characters involved

What I Thought About "Through The Looking Glass Ruins" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who most certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck! I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!

When Disney announced episode titles/synopsis for the new season (On a day that left my head SPINNING!), there was one episode that I knew deep down that would cause controversy and discourse amongst the fandom. And that episode was "Through the Looking Glass Ruins." Not because it would be bad, far from it. Instead, because the episode was a Gus episode with a Lumity subplot, that meant that discourse would start as fans decide which story they prefer more. A situation that, might I add, would result in no winners.

Do you prefer the Lumity plotline? Well, guess what! You're a racist who chose to talk about an overrated ship rather than a heavily underrated character who just so happens to be a person of color.

Do you prefer Gus' plotline? Well, guess what! You're a homophobe who decided to shine a light on a character who's underrated for a reason instead of praising a ship that just so happens to involve two girls.

Either side you pick is going to result in making people mad. The only way to avoid that is by explaining in heavy detail that you still enjoyed one side despite preferring the other. Even if you loved both, you'll most certainly have to explain to everyone that you mean it and that you're neither racist nor homophobic. And all I have to say is this: F that.

F that S in the A right now.

Because I, or anybody else for that matter, shouldn't have to explain myself when it comes to saying why I prefer one plot line or the other. I shouldn't have to prevent getting ripped apart by some bulls**t, black and white mentality of people who can't accept that others like a show for different reasons than they do.

You wanna know what I think about "Through the Looking Glass Ruins?" Well, continue reading to find out. You'll have to make your way through spoilers, but it's the only way for you to learn why I consider this episode not worth any discourse that I'm already certain is cropping up.

Now, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

The Opening Scene: I'm kind of digging how snappy and to the point these opening scenes are getting. In the span of what has to be less than a minute, we're given all the information we need to know: Gus is insecure about his illusion magic because he accidentally got Willow injured. It's a great way of setting up why Gus wants to prove himself to the Glandus students and a great way of showing how much Willow's friendship means to him. Look at how he's reacting a few days after the incident. He's still mopey and guilty about it, and I feel bad for the little guy.

Gus in General: And while we're already talking about him, let's give this episode a round of applause for giving Gus the spotlight without having him screw over his friends...except for Willow.

"Through the Looking Glass Ruins" really fleshes Gus out much more so than past episodes. As I said, it plays heavily into his own insecurities while proving how he's capable as an illusionist. He's also the best possible outlet to explore more about what illusionist magic can really do. It can't hurt anybody or work well in a fight. Instead, its strengths lie in the act of convincingly tricking others into thinking that something that should be fake is actually real. And Gus got to prove he really is a super witch because of his illusions through a jaw-dropping scene that's as dark as it was enthralling. The fact that he did it all by himself, without the help of an illusion elder who was right there, is honestly even more impressive. A lot of people aren't that interested in Gus as a character, but I feel like, after this episode, he certainly won a few more fans over.

Willow Getting Injured and Missing the Episode: This is a smart move, in my opinion. Willow acts as the voice of reason in the friend group, so if she tagged along with Luz and Gus right away, she would have easily talked Gus out of joining the Glandus kids on a dangerous quest. I love Willow, she's a solid character, but writing her out is really the only way the plot could have progressed.

(I also love that she wasn't mad in the slightest over Gus getting her hurt. She has every right to be, but she also understands that it was an accident, and Gus wouldn't do anything to purposefully hurt her. And that's sweet!)

King’s Prerecorded Message for Gus: That's just adorable. We need more cute friendship moments between these two, DAMN IT!

Gus Being Sick of Luz’s S**t: Of all the characters I expected to get sick of the whole Lumity situation, Gus wasn't really one of them. I'd always thought it'd be Willow, primarily because the rest of the fandom latched onto that idea, but for Gus, I'd figured he'd be more supportive rather than annoyed. That being said, seeing him call Luz out for borrowing his library card to see Amity (Not ask her out. Just to see her) is not only a hilarious moment for Gus but also an adorable moment for Luz. It's something I would never have seen coming, but now that I have it, I want more. GIVE ME MORE!

(Sorry if I'm being a little intense)

Luz Trying to Cheer Up Gus: It's moments like this that prove why Luz is my favorite character.

Willow might have the most common sense out of the group, but it's Luz who still has the biggest heart. She knows her friend is down in the dumps, so Luz pulls out all the stops in cheering him up. Whether it's researching the first-ever human (really surprised he wasn't the tiniest bit excited about that, by the way) and lending him glyphs for his mission to help show up Mattholomule. She may be slow in the romantic relationship department, but episodes like this prove that she excels with a platonic friendship.

Bria: I consider Amar adorably optimistic, and I have no strong feelings for Gavin, one or the other. But with Bria? Holy hell, did the writers do everything they should with her!

At first, it seems like she'll be a generic nice girl for Gus to have a crush on. Only for that writing to be a perfect twist into how she's kind of the worst. You see hints of her true personality in the overly sweet way she threatens to force Amar to eat a bug he gets distracted by. A viewer's initial reaction to that would be to think that while she's sweet, she still means business. But no, it's actually a perfect way to reveal her true intentions while hiding them at the same time. Bria may be rotten to the core, but with how perfectly executed this twist was, I can't help but adore her contribution.

Mattholomule: ...I would sooner expect to have gone insane before believing that this little s**t weasel would make his way onto my good side. Despite that, here we are in episode five of the new season, and I like Mattholomule now.

The reveal that Glandus High forces students to believe that the strong survive and the weak are inferior explains so much for Mattholomule's thirst for power in "Something Ventured, Someone Framed." It doesn't excuse his actions, not by a long shot, but it definitely paints a clearer picture. It also explains his treatment of Gus, as well as Mattholomule's reasoning to help him. Because of Glandus High inserting a "the strong survive" mentality into Mattholomule, he belittles Gus due to thinking that illusion magic makes Gus weak. But after seeing how they're both stooges to Bria's mistreatment, he's quick to apologize and willingly helps Gus out. In the process, the two of them create a believable and cute friendship...a friendship that is absolutely going to be interpreted as something else by the fandom...which is something that I'm more than supportive of--HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! I WENT FROM ONE OF THE BIGGEST GUSTOLOMULE DENIERS TO ONE OF ITS SUPPORTERS IN LESS THAN A DAY! HOW DO THESE WRITERS MANAGE TO TAKE ELEMENTS THAT WERE ONCE ON MY S**T LIST TO THEN MAKING ME MORE THAN OK WITH THEM!

IT'S INSANE!

Mostly impressive.

BUT ALSO INSANE!

Edric and Emira: More so than ever, I am so happy that the writers took their course correction with Edric and Emira. These two work so much better as supporting characters rather than minor antagonists like several fans thought they would be after their treatment of Amity in "Lost in Language." They're quick to pick up on Luz and Amity's mutual affections for one another and do their part to help their friend and baby sister out. It's wholesome to watch, and, you know what, I'm gonna go ahead and say it: Edric and Emira Blight are much better mischievous twin characters than Fred and George Weasley. As much as I adore Fred and George, there is an issue how they're always referred to as Fred and George, not Fred or George. It's because their personalities are as identical as they are, so separating them is pointless. With Edric and Emira, they have enough individuality that you could enjoy them separately as much as you could seeing them together. Emira is more emotionally supportive in how she listens to Amity vent her frustrations about her feelings, while Edric is more of a doofus who can't take a hint to save his life. It creates a great set of characters who can potentially work well on their own. I hope they get explored more at some point, but for now, I'm happy with the cute moments these two offered already.

Lumity Moments: BUUUUUUUUUUUUT, nothing compares to the cuteness of these two.

I don't care if I'll be called a racist for it because these! Moments! These moments are the highlights of "Through the Looking Glass Ruins" for me! Seeing these two interact in this episode, now that the pining is mutual, was everything I could have ever hoped for, and so much more. Seriously, how can you complain about anything about all of this when you get cute bits like:

Luz getting flustered of seeing Amity with her hair down

Amity risking her job to help Luz

Amity being motivated to find the diary due to the possibility of a date with Luz in the human realm

Luz going through hell and back to get Amity her job back

All of the blushing

And that F**KING KISS AT THE END HOLY SH--Don't you dare think I'm not going to further discuss that. DON'T YOU DARE!

Gus' story was entertaining with how it surprised me in all the right ways, don't get me wrong. But seeing Luz and Amity's relationship develop more and more always fills my heart with glee that, believe it or not, I'm always going to remember it more. I love you, Gus, but I love Lumity more.

Philip Whittabeen: So we finally have a name to the alleged human who was here years ago, and we get properly introduced to him through a really visually appealing animation change. I'm personally curious to see where the writers go with him, but it's too early to say if his inclusion will be worth something. But I will say one thing, though. One thing, and then I'm going to move on.

Here it is:

Philip sounds eerily similar to Emperor Belos to me.

That is all I'm going to say about that.

Luz’s Sentences in Spanish: I want to give a personal shout-out to mi buen amigo @l-egionaire for pointing this out because there are some things to analyze in what Luz says in Spanish in this episode. Knowing what she means, it's clear that they are ideals that Camila instilled into Luz. Ideals that possibly show a lot about Camila's personality on top of revealing where Luz got her hopeful optimism and sense of determination. It's the second sentence that Luz says later on that I really want to delve deep into:

"Nada funcionará a menos que lo haga funcionar."

Translated, that means "Nothing will work unless you make it work." Again, this proves the dedication that Luz has filled into her soul, but to me, it says a lot about Luz's dedication to Amity. She wants to make this relationship work but fully understands that it won't unless she puts in the effort. It's a sweet sentiment that says so much about how Luz feels about Amity that some fans might not be able to pick up on if they don't speak Spanish. Or, in my case, have a good friend who finds the translation for you (thanks again @l-egionaire).

The Galderstones: Pretty interesting concept, I'm not going to lie. It's also interesting that of all the types of witches in the Boiling Isles, it was illusionists who were the ones that guard over the Galderstones. Because illusion magic can't really harm anyone, it makes a weird type of sense that they would be the ones to keep the Galderstones out of the wrong hands. And, even better, it showcases Gus' strength as an illusionist when he was able to take down Bria, who was hopped up on Galderstone power, through that same "harmless" magic. It just goes to show that if you have a big enough brain, you don't need to overpower somebody. You need to outthink them.

Malphus Being a Surprisingly Cool Dude: What can I say? I'm a sucker for expectation subversion.

Luz and Amity Crying: First of all, a HUGE round of applause to VAs Sarah-Nicole Robles and Mae Whitman through their vocal performances in this scene! They really sold how upset and broken apart Luz and Amity were due to their feelings for each other messing things up. More so with Sarah-Nicole.

Second, this might be the closest these two have gotten to a confession so far ("so far" being the keyword). I specifically latch onto Amity's expression after hearing Luz agree that she's always weird around Amity. In one way, it looks like Amity is surprised to see she made Luz cry, but in another, it could be that she realizes that perhaps that Luz has feelings for her as well. Or, at least, that's how I interpreted things. The thing about art is that there's no one interpretation to agree on. And that's what this scene is: Art. It's performed, written, and animated well, that no matter how you look at it, it's a masterpiece.

“I’ll call the hounds”: One line. One line was all it took for me to love the Keeper of the Looking Glass Graveyard.

Amity Dyes her Hair: I always assumed that Amity would let her original hair color grow out as defiance to Odalia. But dying it lavender? Thus crafting her own identity without having her be compared to either Odalia or Alador?

...yeah, that's brilliant. Whoever thought of that, you are a genius and deserve all of the credit that comes from it.

ALL of the credit.

Amity Kisses Luz on the Cheek!: I'll save my "Wha-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo" for an actual kiss, but for now, THIS IS AWESOME!

This moment, much like other Lumity moments, was everything I could have ever expected and so much more:

Amity's instant panic after realizing she seriously just did that

Ed and Em looking fondly at their sister taking such a big step

The look on Luz's face, which may or may not hint that she realizes that the feelings are more than mutual

And the fact that Luz's legs give out soon after Amity leaves

It was adorable as all forms of hell, and it was a perfect way to end such a perfect episode...or, at least, an almost perfect episode. I do have some issues.

WHAT I DISLIKED

Mattholomule Helping Gus too Easily: The Glandus kids were right there, in-ear and eye-shot, yet did nothing as Mattholomule effortlessly helped Gus and the Keeper escape...how?

Gavin falling for Gus’ Illusion: I want to laugh at how stupidly easy that was...but it's too stupidly easy for me to forgive.

And that’s about it. Just two nitpicks that don’t really take away that much enjoyment from the episode

IN CONCLUSION

"Through the Looking Glass Ruins" keeps Season Two's winning streak going by being another solid A. It fleshes out characters, develops cute relationships, and keeps the story going despite being so character-driven. It's easily more than worth the time...but it's not worth any discourse that comes from some fans preferring one plot over the other.

I highly doubt that some people are racist for loving the Lumity plotline or homophobic for loving Gus'. Maybe some people are, but also consider that maybe, just maybe, a person loves a ship because it's their favorite, or a person likes a character cause he's their favorite.

Which.

Is.

Fine.

There's no definitive way to like a series, and demanding that people like it for the same reasons you do is not worth anything. Because, believe it or not, even Dana Terrace doesn't care how people love her show. In the AMA she did, when a fan asked if she's upset about fans obsessing over Amity's crush on Luz, this is her word for word reaction:

"Not at all! No, the main focus of the series will never be on any romantic thread but that doesn't mean those threads aren't important. And I'm thrilled that people connect to our characters!"

THERE YOU HAVE IT! The creator herself fully admits that she doesn't care what fans latch onto. She's just glad to have people who like the show in the first place! So don't create discourse just because some people enjoy a part of an episode more than others. The second you get that through your heads, the sooner we can all move on with our lives.

(Also, that's five episodes in a row that are hits. And, man, is that stinker going to hit harder because of it.)

entirely relevant addendum in that winston shows more self control / restraint than most other characters, really, sure it's part of his personality that he's more excitably spontaneous than most others too, and he's sincere, but these are things that could get a positive spin even if people just decided they liked his vibe more. him being established as a character involves his having leverage because taylor needs his talent after all (as, you know, argued in the first place really lol) but he goes for this clearly measured, constructive approach, and while he pushes back a little, he certainly never tries to get back at them for how they treated him, and rather he used that treatment as an opportunity for this more constructive, successful reunion, when taylor can't have even meant it thusly. cue him getting shit from coworkers for all of season four and this never making him more even preemptively hostile to anyone. he gets to be a bit petty in s5 ep one, but that's after axe cap has been harassing taylor & co for however long And they're dragged to this "just talk it out =) both sides" meeting about it And the reason quants are being insulted in the first place is also within the context of this being justification for the way tmc overall has been treated, or at least kind of equivocated like oh well yes the harassment including even now really, but the quants are unfriendly :( and winston is never afterwards seen being actually unfriendly w/team ben regardless lmao

and of course rian being introduced, who would replace him, but who he's already Relating to and wanting to connect with one scene later, taylor's not getting on that for a few more episodes even. and then that despite the rivalry / jealousy extending into another episode for him, he Then, prompted by no apparent effort thusly on rian's end, is determinedly friendly next episode and doesn't waver from this even when she's outright insulting him in the middle of their conversation (in a way that Is unprompted, like, hello i know you're high but so is he, he just answers a question and rian tells him how he's Not Hot like please???) and compliments Her linguistic shit in turn after she's dunked on his, like, The Restraint, the successful commitment to what he's Decided to do here.....and from this episode on he Continues to be determinedly friendly / cooperative / helpful even as she in turn continues to dunk on him on purpose largely every episode, who has the Winner's Restraint out here. it's 5x08 & taylor themself is being Provoked by rian's open irritation with them, and it's rian who Also chooses to bring a more conciliatory approach in the end, and we sure get to see how taylor can respond to [your boss has just placed you in competition with this new hire] lmfaooo like. winston's at least got As much self control as the best of them, but as someone who Has to exercise it more, he sure does, something he and taylor could've always connected over, but here we are

and you know, not irrelevant to mention that i'm sure [winston doesn't just Fire Back the same way when people dole out this impulsive treatment based on their kneejerk response that he's sooo uncool & annoying & Wrong] that it's also thanks to self loathing & how he sometimes just absorbs the Ls handed to him and due to the fact that despite the double standard he's much less aggressive than plenty of people around, and so when they give him shit & yell at him of course he's just stressed out & not about to instead get into a shit giving yelling match with them. but he can have defense mechanisms too, And be impulsively petty too, but he's still got much more of a capacity to successfully choose how he responds to someone / approaches a situation. i.e. prince should be so lucky to have half of what winston has here

Heels Over Head

Izuku MidoriyaXReader SFW, Fluff

Midoriya tightened his glare, brows furrowed, green hair falling into his face. His scowl turned into a smile, determination seeping from his skin in the form of beads of sweat. He was not going to lose. His arms were purple, bones broken from overdoing his somewhat new quirk.

You flung yourself upwards again, your quirk launching you high into the hair. You quickly started a decent, nose-diving at rapid speed to Midoriya. You knew he was better suited to use his arms at this point in training, he wouldn't be able to reach you this high. You began to rotate your body, coming down on him with your fist extended like a screw gun onto a board.

You struck him in the head, sending him flying back. His limp body skidded off of the fighting circle, and he showed no sign of getting up. You flung forward yourself, still unsure of the best way to land after falling from such a tall height. You hit the ground with a large 'oof'. You were pretty sure you heard your ankle break, or at least get a pretty gnarly fracture.

You heard Present Mic announce you as the round's winner, but you were struggling to get up and bask in your victory yourself. You may have won your round of the Sports Festival, but you weren't sure you could make another. You finally found the strength to get up, your weight visibly shifted off your damaged ankle. A classmate rushed over to you, and you draped an arm over their shoulder and shifted your weight onto them. You watched as they loaded an unconscious Midoriya onto a stretcher and wheeled him to an infirmary.

Your classmate droned on and on about the Sports Festival, your win over Midoriya, and needing to make sure you can compete next round to 'do your class justice.' But, honestly, you were more worried about Midoriya. You hadn't met him prior to today, but you still felt guilty. Your goal was to beat him- not make him unconscious. He was a fair oppinant, he gave you a run for your money. He had a lead on you for a while, but once he started to break his bones his restraint became his downfall. You took that chance to take a few hard blows to him, landing you where you are now.

You and your classmate stumbled into the infirmary, and they dropped you into a chair to wait. You hadn't had a chance to look at your ankle yet, but in the chair you did. It was bruised all around your foot, the purple and yellow hues almost looking black at points. Both ankles were swollen, but the bruised one was two or three times the size of the other.  

You heard a few final remarks faintly from Recovery Girl, something about taking time to rest and a concussion. You weren't able to see her, but from the sounds of her voice she was behind a curtain on the other end of the infirmary. You watched as she wandered over to you, her tiny legs shuffling under her.

“You’re the young girl who fought Young Midoriya. Good fight…” She survives your ankle, “...nasty results.” She pokes at your bruised ankle, you grimace with pain. A strong throbbing pain shot through your foot. “This one is definitely broken, but lucky for you young lady, the other is just sprained. Nothing I can’t fix for you, deary.”

You watched curiously as she placed a long kiss on your broken ankle, but you didn’t notice any immediate changes.

“It should be better after a half hour or so, in the meantime I will wrap up your other ankle. You should be fine to compete later if you want.”

You smiled and thanked her. She worked on wrapping up the sprained ankle, some of the pressure already relieving. Almost on cue after finishing, she received a call to go to the arena to care for a student on sight- something about the explosive kid from 1-A and a girl he took down. She told you that you were welcomed to stay until you could see yourself out and offered you a pair of crutches before she scurried away.

You sat in silence for a while before you heard faint mumbling coming from behind the curtain. Curiosity got the better of you, and you got up on the crutches, wandering over to the curtain. You drew it back a little, peaking your head behind it.

Midoriya sat propped up in bed, his gym uniform a little torn and twisted up, exposing his bruised abdomen. His arms were wrapped up, but less purple. It was a safe bet that Recovery Girl gave him the same treatment that you had received. His left eye had a pretty bad bruise, making his already dark iris seem even darker. He was scribbling into a notebook, mumbling to himself. You cleared your throat and his eyes shot up to meet yours.

His eyes widened and he quickly closed his notebook, shoving it to the side and trying to move it out of sight. “Ah! I’m so sorry, I probably was being loud!” His voice was frantic and he stumbled over his words.

You peered over to his side. “What were you doing?”

“I was taking notes. I write about different things I think can make me a good hero.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry I beat you up real bad…”

He smiled, his posture relaxing some. “It’s alright. I’ve seen worse.” He lifts his arms up. “I break these pretty often, actually.” He chuckles a little. You looked at him awkwardly, unsure of the joke.

“You had me beat for a while. I wasn’t sure I would win. I’m no good at distanced combat.”

He looked down at your ankles, noticing their state. “Well, your quirk is based on your feet, right? Actually, I have some questions about that…” he pulled out his notebook again. He started flipping through pages of it quickly. You sat down at the edge of the bed, square with his torso. Midoriya, not aware of your presence, began to ramble on about different strategies he had noticed about your quirk. You didn’t have a complex quirk by any means. Your feet had invisible springs, allowing you to jump to incredible heights. It had it’s limitations like everyone else’s. You watched his face, eyes constantly drawing to the large bruise over his eye and the gash on his lip that had been caked over with dried blood. Without thinking much about it, you pulled the wet rag from the bedside table next to Midoriya and gently patted at his lip, trying to clean off some of the blood.

Shivers traveled down Midoriya’s spine at the feeling of the cool washcloth patting gently on his bottom lip. He stopped his thoughts abruptly, looking up at you. Your eyes were focused on his lip, unable to meet his. His pupils grew in shock at your care, especially considering you had just kicked his ass and you had another fight later.

Noticing his silence, you filled in some blanks for him, still dabbing his bottom lip. “My quirk is essentially large invisible springs on the bottoms of my feet. But, like springs, you can't constantly jump high. You have to get a handful of small jumps before a big one. It’s almost like a trampoline, I guess.”

Your eyes finally meet his, and you give him a quick smile. His eyes trace your face, trying to memorize every detail of it. He thought you were quite cute, he was particularly fond of the way your hair was still messy from the fight and the way your eyes seemed to hold an extra layer of determination behind them. He watched as you placed the rag next to you and ran a finger along his cheekbone, caressing the bruise covering his eye.

“Your eye is really swollen, I’m sorry about that too…”

“No! No, no it’s alright. It was an honor to get kicked in the head by you, L/N.” His voice cracked at the beginning, your intimate gesture taking him by surprise. You laughed a little, moving your hand off his face. “Whatever you say, Midoriya.”

He watched as you stood up, taking the crutches under your arms. “I have another fight with some kid from your class- Tokoyami, I think. Anyways, I don’t expect to beat him. My quirk isn’t any match for that shadow thing he has.”

Midoriya smiled, “Well, at least you can say you beat the problem child.”

You shook your head and smiled, grabbing the notebook from his chest. Before he could start panicking and asking for it back, you flipped to the page with a drawing of you and notes about your quirk. You scribbled out your number for him.

“Call me sometime, problem child.”