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#which is a crime those books are so good
waldensblog · 1 year
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Anytime I don’t love a book that’s a literary classic and well-beloved by many I feel like I have committed a literary crime. I like what I like and that’s just the way it is, but I feel like the priests of literature would call me a blasphemer for giving it 3 stars and removing it from my collection to give to a used bookstore.
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lowkeyremi · 3 months
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"DADDY I THREW UP"
How they react when their little ones throw up ! (we all know gojo is gonna be overreacting) ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami
content: TW: vomit, no curse!au fluff, established relationship (marriage), children, families. (divider by kim jiho) same kids from jjk men as dads
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Gojo Satoru
Satoru's on daddy duty for the next week and a half while you're gone, and so far he's actually doing quite well. Currently, he's making dinner from a simple recipe in the recipe book you've been making throughout the last few years.
Two year old Kenji waddles into the kitchen and tugs on Satoru's sweatpants. His head whips around to look down at his little mini-me.
"Hey Kenji, what's up little guy?" He puts his attention back on the wok with noodles in it to make sure he doesn't burn dinner. As he's stirring the food around with chopsticks Kenji starts to form a sentence, "Um.. throw up."
Satoru freezes. "W-what?" He knows exactly what Kenji said but he's scared to turn around. Kenji whines a little bit, "Throw up. Kenji throw up." Usually Satoru would find his toddler's 3rd person speaking cute but right now he feels himself breaking out into a cold sweat.
"Oh... um.. It's okay? Where is it?" Kenji's little feet waddle away from the kitchen expecting his daddy to follow after him. Satoru turns the heat down to low so the food won't burn, and follows his little boy to the 'crime scene'.
Kenji sticks his thumb in his little mouth and points to the throw up on the carpet.
"O-oh god, I think I'm gonna-" He gags and runs into the bathroom. Nothing comes from his mouth so he shudders. He needs to calm down, it's just a little throw up from his own kin, he'll be alright. The faucet runs and he splashes some water on his face.
"I can do this. I can do this. I can-" He hears the telltale sign of someone throwing up. Kenji is definitely sick. The throw up is followed by loud crying. Satoru's dad instincts kick in and he runs back over to where his little boy is.
"Hey, hey, hey, little guy. It's gonna be okay. Let's get you a bath, then I'll call mommy, okay?" Kenji nods. It breaks Satoru's heart hearing those little sniffles that leave his baby boy.
Geto Suguru
"PAPAAAAA!!!! Hana threw up!!!" Suguru looks at you and you stare right back.
"Don't look at me, I cleaned Hana's vomit yesterday while you were working late." He fights the urge to roll his eyes at you, because you're being childish in his mind.
Suguru makes his way to the kitchen so he can get the carpet cleaning spray out of the cabinet. "Fucking hell." He mumbles without realizing his six year old daughter was near by.
She gasps dramatically before yelling, "OOOOOO PAPA SAID A BAD WORD!!!" He screws his eyes shut, agitation was slowly seeping in.
"I'll put a dollar in the jar, but please stop screaming, Kana. Your sister doesn't feel good and the screaming is hurting Papa's head." He has retrieved the spray and a damp rag to clean up the soiled spot on the carpet.
"Sorry Papa." Kana's voice is lowered drastically. Being a curious little thing she follows her father to go check up on her little twin sister.
"You alright, princess?" Suguru sits close to her little pink bed and poor little Hana shakes her head 'no'.
"I don't feel good, Papa." She whines quietly. Suguru can tell by the way her eyes water, the sweat beads grow on her forehead and the way she frowns deeply that she definitely is sick.
"Why don't you go brush your teeth for me, princess? Then Papa will get you some medicine." Suguru understands his daughter very well. He'd always get sick while eating curses, sometimes they were so bad he would vomit all over the place. LOLLL no curse au so he aint gotta suffer.
She nods hopping from her bed to go brush her teeth in the bathroom. Suguru gets to work cleaning up the carpet.
Kamo Choso
Ryuji's school had called you because your boy threw up in school, which he was very embarrassed about because elementary schoolers always know how to make a big deal out of something small. Many children were crowding your son where he threw up some gasped in horror others laughed. Luckily the teachers were able to get the students under control once more.
They sent him to the nurse and she dialed you, "I'm so sorry, baby. Mom's out of town, give the phone back to the nurse so I can give her dad's number, okay?" He utters a quiet response before handing the phone over.
You chat with the nurse for a little bit giving her the information she needed then you told your son goodbye and hung up.
The nurse is quick to dial Choso and he picks up after the fourth ring. "Good morning, Sir. I'm calling because your son Ryuji Kamo threw up and he isn't feeling too good. We called Mom but she said she won't be able to come pick him up. Do you think you could check him out or do you have another trusted family member who could pick him up?" She's got a pen and notepad ready to write down another number if Choso couldn't make it.
"Oh dear, yeah I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Is his stuff packed already or..." He trails phone pressed to his ear, he hadn't been doing anything too important since he'd already finished up his meeting.
"No Sir, we'll send him right up to pack up. He'll be waiting for you in the main office."
"Alright, thank you." Choso's starting to worry, does he need to take Ryuji to the doctor? Should he stop at the grocery store and get soup? Should he make soup? Do you have kids cold/flu medicine at home? Your husband can't remember the last time Ryuji had vomited and he's pretty sure you'd taken care of it anyway.
"Hey Siri, how do I take care of my sick son?" She responds with 'here's what I found' he quickly scans over an article and the main idea is comfort him, make him something light, make sure he's hydrated, and gets plenty of rest. He could do that. Choso's not the best at emotions but he'll do what he can for his boy.
Eventually the two make it home, and Choso is quick to act. "Change into your pjs and I'll get you some medicine. How do you feel?" He needs a basic idea of what he's dealing with.
"My stomach reallyyyyyyy hurts." He whines holding his abdomen area tightly.
"Like you need to go to the bathroom kind of hurt?" Choso thinks it might be a stomach bug because his so shakes his head 'no'.
"Nuh uh, feels like someone is stabbing me in the stomach." His brows knit and a frown covers his face. it hurts to see his son suffering.
"Alright, I've got you kiddo. I'll take care of you." He promises to his growing boy.
"Thanks dad."
Fushiguro Toji
"Dad come look! I threw up! It's so cool!" Four year old Yui says, which is odd, no normal little kid is happy after throwing up so Toji is suspicious.
"Tell your brother to clean it up." Yui crosses her little arms and pouts.
"I already told Megumi and Nami!! They told me to go tell you!!!" He doesn't want to clean it up. He already has his work cutting out for him changing his newborn's diapers, cleaning up vomit was not on his list of to dos.
He would have told her to go ask you to clean it up but it's sunday and you usually go out for brunch with your friends. So, unless he somehow coaxed his stubborn son, Megumi, he'd have to do it himself.
When he finally reaches the bathroom, he groans in annoyance at how she just barely missed the toilet had she run a little faster she would have made it. To make matters worse it looks like she tried to clean it up herself and just spread it all everywhere.
"Oh, Sprinkles threw up too! Cuz he ate some of mine."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" A deep unsettling groan rips from his throat. Yui finds the whole ordeal funny, she's giggling and cooing at her father.
Bonus: A few days later you're walking past Yui's room and you hear her yell, "Are you fucking kidding me?!"
You instantly stop, "Excuse you little girl, who did you hear say that?"
"Dad said it when he had to clean up my throw up!!" She smiles brightly at you. She's so innocent she doesn't fully understand the weight of what she's said.
"That's a bad word sweet girl. Don't say that anymore, got it?"
You're given a little nod to indicate she understands.
"TOJI WHERE ARE YOU?!" He's about to get an earful from you.
Nanami Kento:
"Hey guys, I came as soon as I could." You exhale deeply as you set your keys on the rack and slip off your shoes. Kento had picked up your son because the school called saying he'd thrown up.
Kento appears from the hallway with a finger on his lip telling you to "shh".
You lower your voice to a whisper, "Is Hiro alright?" Kento walks up to you and gives you a comforting hug which you really needed.
"Yeah he's resting right now. He threw up in the car. Twice. I was going to go clean it up right now. Emmie should be waking up from her nap soon, though." You're so grateful to have a husband you can rely on in a time of need.
When Hiro's school had called you, you were in the middle of a very important meeting so you couldn't leave. Nanami had left work early to go pick up your son.
His smile is so intoxicating. You pull him by his collar and make his lips meet yours. He immediately reciprocates by bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks and kiss you back.
"Thank you, baby." His eyes are so beautiful and if you didn't have to go make sure to be there for your baby girl you would have continued to stare at them.
"Of course my love. Parenting is a two person thing for a reason."
"I bet by next week we'll be sick too." You say chuckling dryly.
"Most likely, yeah." He says shaking his head. He begrudgingly walks out to his car to clean up the vomit in the backseat.
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deadsetobsessions · 2 months
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Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Pt. 4
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3]
Danny blinked down at the cart, where a red hoodie and pants with red stripes along the side laid over the lip of the cart. Considering they’re in this universe’s brand of Marget- seriously, who names a store Target? If anything in Amity Park was named that, Skulker would have wrecked it in five seconds flat- it’s hilariously on brand. Though, to be fair, this was Gotham’s version too, which meant a lot of security guards (who definitely doubled as goons for the Rogues, Danny was sure) and the vibes were spooky.
“I’m guessing red’s your favorite color.”
Instead of the humorous way he meant the sentence, Jason looked up anxiously and Danny immediately hated himself a little bit more.
“Sh- I can put it back..?” Jason hunched in on himself.
Danny tracked the movement with clearer eyes than he’s had in a long while and ancients, does it remind him of how Dani was in front of Vlad all those years ago. And Danny has spent his entire half life being not like Vlad, so he’s not going to start now.
“Nah, you should definitely add some more stuff. This is no where near enough clothes.”
It really wasn’t. Danny had taken Jason to the store to pick out clothes- “Ther’s a second hand store down the stree’, ya know,” Jason had mumbled when they went through the doors- but the kid had only tentatively put in a small red hoodie and some pants in the cart. Now he had to put this in a way that’ll wipe the stubbornly hesitant look on Jason’s face off.
“Think about it this way, then. You’re repping me now, and while I might be the alley drunk, I’m not the poorly dressed alley drunk, yeah?”
“Oh. Tha’ makes sense.” Jason nodded to himself determinedly, and the kid strode over to the t-shirt section. For all of his confidence, he still glanced back to see if it was okay with Danny.
Well, Dani was the same way before she found her confidence (when she knew Danny wouldn’t abandon her or hurt her) so Danny just gave him a thumbs up before reaching into the rack and sweeping an armful of clothing straight into the cart. Then, he strode over to the jackets and grabbed the ones in Jason’s size and slightly bigger. Oh, he has to grab shoes. He’ll leave that for later, but Danny was going to get those ratty trainers off of Jason’s feet and into the nearest trash can if it was the last thing he does.
The halfa hummed, pausing at the first decidedly not miserable sound he’s made in a while. Dammit, if that wasn’t a sign of Danny’s attachment to Jason, he doesn’t know what would be. To be fair… Danny already committed murder for the kid, which was pretty much something he thought he’d never do, so in for a penny out for a pound or whatever.
He put a significant amount of the budget aside for the section labeled “JASON” so Danny shopped without a worry. Charlie’s ill-gotten assets were a good monetary compensation for his crime of existing near Jason or existing, period.
He picked up toiletries, toothbrushes and the like, when Jason came back sans t-shirt. Instead of a shirt- Danny had actually hoped that Jason would try to get multiple shirts- Jason was clutching a book.
Before he could even voice anything, Danny plucked the book out of his grip and put it into the cart with a disarming smile.
“Oh, good idea. We should get you books too. Wanna go pick out some more?”
“Uh- y’re just gonna get a book, just like that?”
“More than one book, I should hope. You are going to school, right?”
“…Yeah!” Danny couldn’t fathom ever being excited at the thought of school, but as Jason bounced away to peruse the admittedly poor selection of books, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe he should give this education thing another try. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be less stressful now that he’s not Phantom.
Danny walked to the aisle next to the books and promptly proceeded to shove every single piece of stationary he thought was nice- pens, gel pens, cooling pens and pencils, a thick stack of notebooks, flash cards, etcetera- into the rapidly getting full cart.
Jason came back with three more books- nice, the classics- and froze at the sight of the cart.
“Oh, hey. Getting all of those?”
“Wha’- wha’s wit’ the stuff?”
“School supplies! Quality education starts with quality supplies, you know!” Danny said, a sliver of the grin that used to come so easily to him making an appearance on his face. "Don't worry, I budgeted. See?"
Danny handed Jason a piece of paper, confident that the kid would know if it was good or not.
"Where'd... ya get all of this?"
"Hmm... here and there."
Jason looked up at him, squinting suspiciously. "I hear' Charlie's gone poofed up."
Danny shrugged and put a calculator in the cart. "Oh, I'm sure he's busy."
Yeah, Danny thought vindictively. Busy being dead.
"Ya sound like a walking con," Jason said as he visibly decided to give up fighting against Danny's spending. "We nee' food."
"Gotcha. Well, if you need anything else, just bring it into the cart."
"I want veggies. Frozen, 's cheaper."
Danny nodded, resisting the urge to ruffle Jason's hair.
----
"Hey, you's the Alley Drunk, right? 'Bout that boy you've been toting ar-"
Danny punched the guy in the face, dropping him like a stone. He looked up slowly and swayed.
"Any of you ask about my kid brother again, and I won't bother with being drunk when I hit you."
Rapid nods. Danny shuffled away, satisfied.
----
Two weeks later, after a school day, Danny finds Jason heading to the bathroom with a box of...
"Hair-dye?"
Jason, who was marginally more relaxed and assured that Danny wasn't going to kick him out, nodded.
"Dye's fadin' n' I dun wanna get nabbed on the streets for having red hair."
Danny blinked. "You have red hair?"
"Sure do. See? Roots are showin' again." Jason pointed at his scalp where Danny could see the hair was getting lighter.
"Right. Well- I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help, kiddo." Danny said, desperately hoping he hid how off kilter he was feeling well.
"I don't need help, ah've been doing this for ages." The kid went into the bathroom and closed the door harshly. When the lock clicked and the faucet began running, Danny let himself slide down the wall into a crouch, hands cradling his head.
Red hair. Blue eyes. Tan skin. The facial features. The intelligence and empathy.
Danny chuckled hysterically under his breath.
Was Jason this universe's version of Jazz?
"Fuck."
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foldingfittedsheets · 4 months
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I’ve always been a pretty good liar. As an adult I’ve come to a moral place in which I don’t use that skill set unless it will explicitly benefit someone. But when I was a kid all bets were off.
I think tiny child me was doing their little autistic best but recognized that some situations would be best navigated by lying as telling the truth never netted positive results. Whether it was because my needs often went unmet or ignored, or because I didn’t see any reason not to lie if it would be more favorable, I’m not sure.
This is the story of my proudest lie. The best lie I ever did. A lie that looking back I still go, damn, I was eight.
Our story begins in second grade. I was eight. My school was having a book fair and I spent my small stipend on Gulliver’s Travels. No idea why. Lacking further funds I wandered the fair and came upon the greatest sight known to man. Frog erasers. They were so cute and I was extremely into animals of all kinds.
The whimsy. Who could have known they made erasers in such wonderful shapes? I mourned that I’d spent my money already, and played quietly with the little frogs in their bin. That’s when I was approached by a few other kids from my class.
I didn’t know most of them very well, but enough that it was civil when they asked me, “Are you going to buy those frogs?”
“I’d like to,” I admitted, “but I spent all my money.”
“Why don’t you steal them?”
“I thought about that, but I don’t have pockets.” Indeed, stealing had crossed my mind but it had been a brief temptation. I wasn’t even scandalized that the other girls suggested it.
“Caitlin has pockets,” the leader of the pack said. And indeed, Caitlin in her purple overalls did have pocket space for two frogs. So Caitlin and I became partners. My role in the escapade was just... wanting frogs and walking out with her. We stole two frogs, a yellow and a purple, and united by the misdeed we played together with them at recess despite not really being friendly prior.
After lunch I was called from class to the library. The principal herself was there waiting for me. She had a somber air, almost mournful that she needed to punish me. It was self evident to me that I was here for frog crimes. Caitlin had cracked and taken the fastest route to forgiveness- snitching on an accomplice. Despite the fact that my role was just: wanted frogs, I knew I was going to be in trouble.
Now, I could have told the truth. Pulled a Caitlin and ratted on the girl who told us to steal them. But clearly I’d still be in trouble for having gone along with the morally bereft plan. I was mad at Caitlin for telling but not enough to foist the onus back into her.
“Do you know why you’re here?” The principal asked kindly.
“Is it about the frogs?”
“Yes, Caitlin told us you stole the frogs.”
I quivered my lip and drew myself up indignantly. “I didn’t steal them!”
She blinked at my vehemence but since I looked near tears she carefully asked, “What happened?”
“I really wanted the frogs, but I didn’t have any money. So I asked the librarian if I could take them and bring the money tomorrow! But she was really busy and lots of people were talking to her, and she said yes! But maybe she was saying yes to someone else? And I thought it was to me but Caitlin didn’t, but I was going to bring money tomorrow!”
The principal. Was flummoxed. This was a situation in which I clearly thought I’d done no wrong, in which she couldn’t prove I had done anything wrong, and which the librarian would almost certainly not be able to weigh in. She regarded me not with suspicion but rather vaguely confused as to how to handle me.
I got off with a slight warning that I should pay for things before taking them, despite not having been the one to take things in the first place, and the frogs were confiscated.
I was vaguely worried they’d call my parents but years later when I admitted the story to my mom as an adult she laughed herself sick and said she’d never gotten a call.
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ew-selfish-art · 8 months
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DCxDP AU: Danny and Damian are actually twins but were never raised together- Talia would divide her time between bases, spending time with them separately (but spending more time with Damian). Jason technically only met Danny in his time with the LoA.
It still a very tenuous truce that Jason has with his family when he finally joins them for breakfast after a late night of busting a drug ring. And sue him, he's never cared to look at the little one that closely when he's not pointing a knife in his direction. But then the little Bat Brat turned his face towards the ray of light streaming into the family room of the Manor and Jason caught a closer look to the… green color. Huh.
“Hey demon, when you died did you come back with those green eyes?” Jason calls out, and perhaps it’s a little antagonistic but something deeply unsettles the crime lord about this.
“Tt. I’ve always had green eyes Todd. Your observation skills remain dulled-“ Damian begins to berate him but Jason’s scowl deepens and he interrupts.
“No, they were definitely Bruce’s color blue when I met you with Talia- I punched your lights out because of it remember?” Jason supplies, looking perturbed and having a small child look equally perturbed back at him.
“You never met me in Nanda Parbat. And mother would have never allowed you to attack above your station and live.”
“Kid I literally have the scars from my punishment. My memory from that time after the pit might not be great or even good but I know, I know I punched your lights out.”
“No doubt you have been fooled by a clone then-“ Damian says but he looks upset.
“Talia called you Dami then, you’ve never let us call you that.” Jason supplies further, he was certain that Talia had introduced him as her son.
“I was never called such an informal name.” But Damian looks disturbed more than he looks like he wants to fight.
Eventually, after combing through their collective memory of Talia's where abouts and Damian's lack of interaction with Todd, it’s decided that they have to talk to Drake who was there the most recently. Neither wants to add the fact that he's also the most knowledgeable family member when it comes to the LoA now.
“Huh? Yeah, it looks like Talia kept ledgers dividing her time between two places- the journal reads like there is Dami as Damian but… maybe it’s Dami AND Damian…” Tim reviews the books he robbed them of with a fine tooth comb and suddenly this pattern of using the “nickname” and the “full name” start to show a “first child” and a “second child”.
Damian was clearly the favorite. The ‘Dami’ kid was sent away on a suicide mission pretty early in their lives, he would have left right after Todd did at the age of 8-ish. They all groaned at the cold trail following this assignment he failed to return from- it meant that they had to involve Bruce with a DNA search of the local areas the kid had been sent to across the globe. One of which, weirdly enough, was in Illinois.
“My name isn’t Daniel” Danny sighs at yet another event the Mansons brought him to with Vlad looking over his shoulder every five minutes.
Then the weird skinny kid who’s the big talk of the town approaches him with some guy built like a tank and says: “It’s Damian, isn’t it?”
Danny literally sinks through the floors, but in his attempts to run out the back door he’s stopped- By a guy that has Danny's own face and a very sharp looking knife pressed to Danny's throat.
In short- Danny introduced himself to the Fentons as “Dami” but they misheard him and called him Danny and fuck it, it’s close enough.
Now it turns out that their mother only planned on one surviving the artificial womb and gave them very different amounts of her time- so she just gave them the same name and reported it like she only had one child.
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How Google’s trial secrecy lets it control the coverage
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I'm coming to Minneapolis! Oct 15: Presenting The Internet Con at Moon Palace Books. Oct 16: Keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing.
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"Corporate crime" is practically an oxymoron in America. While it's true that the single most consequential and profligate theft in America is wage theft, its mechanisms are so obscure and, well, dull that it's easy to sell us on the false impression that the real problem is shoplifting:
https://newrepublic.com/post/175343/wage-theft-versus-shoplifting-crime
Corporate crime is often hidden behind Dana Clare's Shield Of Boringness, cloaked in euphemisms like "risk and compliance" or that old favorite, "white collar crime":
https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/07/solar-panel-for-a-sex-machine/#a-single-proposition
And corporate crime has a kind of performative complexity. The crimes come to us wreathed in specialized jargon and technical terminology that make them hard to discern. Which is wild, because corporate crimes occur on a scale that other crimes – even those committed by organized crime – can't hope to match:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/12/no-criminals-no-crimes/#get-out-of-jail-free-card
But anything that can't go on forever eventually stops. After decades of official tolerance (and even encouragement), corporate criminals are finally in the crosshairs of federal enforcers. Take National Labor Relations Board general counsel Jennifer Abruzzo's ruling in Cemex: when a company takes an illegal action to affect the outcome of a union election, the consequence is now automatic recognition of the union:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth
That's a huge deal. Before, a boss could fire union organizers and intimidate workers, scuttle the union election, and then, months or years later, pay a fine and some back-wages…and the union would be smashed.
The scale of corporate crime is directly proportional to the scale of corporations themselves. Big companies aren't (necessarily) led by worse people, but even small sins committed by the very largest companies can affect millions of lives.
That's why antitrust is so key to fighting corporate crime. To make corporate crimes less harmful, we must keep companies from attaining harmful scale. Big companies aren't just too big to fail and too big to jail – they're also too big for peaceful coexistence with a society of laws.
The revival of antitrust enforcement is such a breath of fresh air, but it's also fighting headwinds. For one thing, there's 40 years of bad precedent from the nightmare years of pro-monopoly Reaganomics to overturn:
https://pluralistic.net/ApexPredator
It's not just precedents in the outcomes of trials, either. Trial procedure has also been remade to favor corporations, with judges helping companies stack the deck in their own favor. The biggest factor here is secrecy: blocking recording devices from courts, refusing to livestream the proceedings, allowing accused corporate criminals to clear the courtroom when their executives take the stand, and redacting or suppressing the exhibits:
https://prospect.org/power/2023-09-27-redacted-case-against-amazon/
When a corporation can hide evidence and testimony from the public and the press, it gains broad latitude to dispute critics, including government enforcers, based on evidence that no one is allowed to see, or, in many cases, even describe. Take Project Nessie, the program that the FTC claims Amazon used to compel third-party sellers to hike prices across many categories of goods:
https://www.wsj.com/business/retail/amazon-used-secret-project-nessie-algorithm-to-raise-prices-6c593706
Amazon told the press that the FTC has "grossly mischaracterize[d]" Project Nessie. The DoJ disagrees, but it can't say why, because the Project Nessie files it based its accusations on have been redacted, at Amazon's insistence. Rather than rebutting Amazon's claim, FTC spokesman Douglas Farrar could only say "We once again call on Amazon to move swiftly to remove the redactions and allow the American public to see the full scope of what we allege are their illegal monopolistic practices."
It's quite a devastating gambit: when critics and prosecutors make specific allegations about corporate crimes, the corporation gets to tell journalists, "No, that's wrong, but you're not allowed to see the reason we say it's wrong."
It's a way to work the refs, to get journalists – or their editors – to wreathe bold claims in endless hedging language, or to avoid reporting on the most shocking allegations altogether. This, in turn, keeps corporate trials out of the public eye, which reassures judges that they can defer to further corporate demands for opacity without facing an outcry.
That's a tactic that serves Google well. When the company was dragged into court by the DoJ Antitrust Division, it demanded – and received – a veil of secrecy that is especially ironic given the company's promise "to organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful":
https://usvgoogle.org/trial-update-9-22
While this veil has parted somewhat, it is still intact enough to allow the company to work the refs and kill disfavorable reporting from the trial. Last week, Megan Gray – ex-FTC, ex-DuckDuckGo – published an editorial in Wired reporting on her impression of an explosive moment in the Google trial:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics
According to Gray, Google had run a program to mess with the "semantic matching" on queries, silently appending terms to users' searches that caused them to return more ads – and worse results. This generated more revenue for Google, at the expense of advertisers who got billed to serve ads that didn't even match user queries.
Google forcefully disputed this claim:
https://twitter.com/searchliaison/status/1709726778170786297
They contacted Gray's editors at Wired, but declined to release all the exhibits and testimony that Gray used to form her conclusions about Google's conduct; instead, they provided a subset of the relevant materials, which cast doubt on Gray's accusations.
Wired removed Gray's piece, with an unsigned notice that "WIRED editorial leadership has determined that the story does not meet our editorial standards. It has been removed":
https://www.wired.com/story/google-antitrust-lawsuit-search-results/
But Gray stands by her piece. She admits that she might have gotten some of the fine details wrong, but that these were not material to the overall point of her story, that Google manipulated search queries to serve more ads at the expense of the quality of the results:
https://twitter.com/megangrA/status/1711035354134794529
She says that the piece could and should have been amended to reflect these fine-grained corrections, but that in the absence of a full record of the testimony and exhibits, it was impossible for her to prove to her editors that her piece was substantively correct.
I reviewed the limited evidence that Google permitted to be released and I find her defense compelling. Perhaps you don't. But the only way we can factually resolve this dispute is for Google to release the materials that they claim will exonerate them. And they won't, though this is fully within their power.
I've seen this playbook before. During the early months of the pandemic, a billionaire who owned a notorious cyberwarfare company used UK libel threats to erase this fact from the internet – including my own reporting – on the grounds that the underlying research made small, non-material errors in characterizing a hellishly complex financial Rube Goldberg machine that was, in my opinion, deliberately designed to confuse investigators.
Like the corporate crimes revealed in the Panama Papers and Paradise Papers, the gambit is complicated, but it's not sophisticated:
Make everything as complicated as possible;
Make everything as secret as possible;
Dismiss any accusations by claiming errors in the account of the deliberately complex arrangements, which can't be rectified because the relevant materials are a secret.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/09/working-the-refs/#but-id-have-to-kill-you
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My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!
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Image: Jason Rosenberg (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/underpants/12069086054/
CC BY https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/
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Japanexperterna.se (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/japanexperterna/15251188384/
CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/
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dcxdpdabbles · 28 days
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Could you write something where Danny is a teen dad to de aged Ellie? Bonus points if he lives in Crimr Alley and beats the Joker to a pulp for hurting his kid
Danny is trying his best.
It's not easy being a father at age sixteen. It's not easy having to leave his home in fear of what his parents will do to his clone-turned-daughter.
It's not easy watching her every day, wondering if her core will break down further, and instead of just de-aging this time, she'll end up dead. It's not easy worrying about her health in the most crime-infested city with a terrible job and relying on his pitiful check or the funds his sister can sneak to him.
But nothing good in this world is easy, and he wouldn't trade Dani for anything. Yes, she had lost her memories and acted like a real two-year-old, but he adored watching her eyes light up as she relearned the world.
Danny loved her to bits, and even buying her those cheap coloring books and crayons from the dollar store made Dani smile brighter than any star. They may struggle to pay rent and bills or buy food, but Danny can always scrape by, keeping her warm, fed, and house.
He worked at three different dinners, each part-time, since none of them were legally allowed to hire him full-time because of his age. Danny didn't have a single day off, but he had a few hours every day with Dani, which was enough.
While he worked, he asked his next-door neighbor to watch Dani. Now, it may not be the best thing to trust a stranger with his daughter but said neighbor is a ghost and one of the friendly kind.
Danny met her when he first moved in. Apparently, her haunting was one of the reasons the rent was so cheap. She never gave him her real name, but she stayed with Dani all day and had enough ectoplasm to physically touch things. Danny could sense her intentions with his core and knew her motherly adoration for Dani was authentic.
Privately, Danny called her Three since she haunted apartment three, and she sort of looked like she stepped out of the nineteen-thirties, complete with an attractive Transatlantic accent. She was an up-and-coming radio co-host, taking a segment to read stories to housewives before being murdered in her home.
Three never said why or how it happened, but she had been haunting the apparent complex for so long; her lore was well documented among the locals.
They say one of the Waynes had killed her after learning that his wife had fancied Three. But it was never proven and it became another theory that the rich would laugh at every once in a while.
(Three's face always twisted whenever she heard the name Wayne. Her hand would always reach up for a heart-shaped locket she refused to take off even in death.)
Since most people couldn't see ghosts unless exposed to ectoplasm for enough time, the stories of her attacks on anyone trying to get close to her apartment snowballed out of control. Danny thought it was unfair how evil they made her sound. Though it's true she had a strong distaste for men, she had a soft spot for children.
Danny had just been through the wringer; he had double shifts, one stacked right after the other. One of the dinners had let two people go after they had been arrested for moving illegal substances, and Danny had to cover until they found a replacement.
A woman had yelled at him for almost thirty minutes straight about a wait time for her surprise party of fifteen. A man threw up on their counter, and to top it all off, a kid had run into him while he was carrying a tray of food, causing him to spill everything.
Thankfully, the mother was horrified and apologized profoundly, but it had been almost too much for him. So when he was sweeping up broken plates and saw Three franticly flying at him screaming about some clown, well, Danny was doing his best.
And his best was fighting things far stronger than he.
____________________________________________________________
Jim Gordon's early afternoon gets interrupted by the Joker only three minutes after he is supposed to head home for the day. After escaping from Arkham a few months ago, the clown went to the ground, and everyone was nervous about what he was planning.
Jim's team hadn't heard any whispers or had any idea what the Joker was up to, which made everything worse. Usually, when something big and wrong was going to happen, they would catch at least one thing beforehand.
That's why the sudden broadcast of the lunatic had everyone jumping out of their skins.
"Good evening, Gotham. I want to welcome you to tonight's show. It's going to be killer." Joker cackles. He has somehow hacked into almost every screen in the city, his white devilish face appearing on TVs, phones, tablets, and even roadside advertising.
His voice echoes through the city as Jim barks at his employees to trace the signal.
"Recently, I felt it necessary to remind everyone that one is never too young to have a funny bone." The Joker continues, holding up a plush toy to the camera. He waves it a little, pressing the ginning bunny as close as possible so people can see its mouth has been sewed into a sickly wide smile. "I'm sure a few of you have noticed that certain school buses never arrived home."
The blood in his veins goes cold. How many buses? Which school? What kids were they? How old? Why had they not heard of the kids not arriving until now?
There are too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. Jim hates how useless he feels playing this sick man's game.
"But not to worry! You'll see your little ones again! After being guests on my very own game show! Every thirty minutes, one lucky child will get to compete for your amusement, and if they survive, they get an extraordinary prize-!"
His words are cut short by a dark figure flinging itself at the Joker and punching him to the ground. Thank every dark cloud in the sky that the Bat was on the case.
"Basty! Have you come to play- wait. You aren't Batsy." Joker's delighted tone melts into anger as the figure straightens to a young teenage boy.
"You have my daughter. Give her back." The teen tells the clown, voice flat and cold. "Three said your goons took her from her balcony."
"My boys take a lot of people." Joker laughs hoping up a flower. With a press of his finger, the teenager is covered in Joker Vemon. Jim's heart falls as the boy stumbles back, rubbing at his eyes. Joker laughs harder until the kid picks up a chair and slams it onto his head.
There wasn't even a chuckle from the boy. Huh.
"You have my daughter. Give. Her. Back."
"Or what?" The Joker taunts, snapping his fingers. There are sounds of people moving, likely the goons. "Kill him."
The boy doesn't seem to react to the men rushing at him. Someone knocks the camera stand over, and the view of the fight is taken away as it rolls on the ground. Thankfully, it ends up pointed at a wall, where they watch the shadows of the teenager and the Joker's goons fight.
It's hard to tell who's winning, with all the shadows blending together whenever they get close, but the fact that he hasn't heard the kid drop yet means he's holding his own. Jim's eyes narrow at the wallpaper, trying to figure out why it looks so familiar.
It hits him just as a little girl phases through the wall. Yes, phases, as if walking through it like a ghost. This would make sense since -
"That's Nightowl Apparemtents!" Ricky, the new cop from Crime Alley, cries, echoing Jim's thoughts.
"It's what?" Asks Sara
"Nightowl apparements. It's the oldest place in Crime Alley and one of the most haunted. They said a lover of a Wayne was killed there. She kills anyone who tries to rent the place. They do ghost tours occasionally, but no one dares to her hallway. That wallpaper is famous because it's the only one in Gotham with the original founding families' symbols." Ricky explains, watching the little girl tilt her head and then start to flout. Everyone shivers as a second figure bleeds out of the wall behind her.
This one is much more blurry, but the faith outline of a beautiful woman covered in blood hovers behind the girl staring at the fight. She's dressed in clothes that Jim is sure was decades ago, and unlike the little girl, she makes him feel very unsafe.
The ghost of Apparement three. Barbara had gone through a paranormal phase when she was fifteen and dragged Jim to all the haunted places in Gotham. Nowhere had made him feel as uneased as Gotham's cemetery- the most haunted place- but those apartments were a close second.
The ghost spots the camera, sneering at it and Jim actually jumps back.
"Oh, gods!" Ricky shouts, turning his head away. "I'm so sorry for looking into your eyes without permission!"
"It's not a telephone! It can't hear you, Ricky!"
"That's not the point, Sara!"
"Daddy!" the little girl cries, holding up her finger. "I got an ow-ow."
At once, the sounds of combat stopped, and then the screams began. It's nothing like Jim has ever heard. He's been on the force long enough to know what a human in pain sounds like, and those sounds—well, he prays that the Joker had decided to bring in animals.
If it makes him sick to his stomach he is worried about the regular people watching.
The little girl doesn't look away, tilting her head to the side like a curious child of two would and still holding her tiny up. After a moment, Jim realizes the screaming has stopped. There is silence before Joker falls beside the girl, beaten beyond recognition.
If it weren't for his purple sit, Jim would have thought him a goon.
The little girl doesn't blink an eye as the teenager rushes to her, kicking the Joker.
"Let me the ow-ow." The teenager demands, taking her hand in his. There is a moment of tense silence as the woman's ghost louts around him with a sneer. "A papercut! You gave my daughter a papercut!"
The ghost woman screeches, rage in every part of her cry. Jim feels his heart beating out of his chest, frozen in absolute terror as she reaches down for the Joker and drags him through the floor.
The man's screams are heard even through the muffled flooring.
"Holy shit," Sara breathes, voice trembling.
"This is why no one with a brain messes with Nightowl's ghost," Ricky hisses, rubbing at his cross. "How that kid go it to attack the Joker and not him and his daughter-"
The teenager gathers the toddler into his arms, his image fading with a hiss.
"-That was a ghost. The teenager that beat the Joker to near death was a ghost." Ricky swallows. "I am never stepping foot down that street again."
Somewhere in Gotham, a woman is sweating bullets after the feed is cut by Batman, who arrives with the rest of the Bats minutes afterward.
"Say, Mom, wasn't that the boy you were yelling at today in Teddy's Diner for Uncle Ron's birthday."
The woman's eyes swing back to the TV, where the waiter's face is frozen on the screen, his green glowing eyes almost staring into her soul. "Yes.....yes it was."
"Oh crud. I think we're cursed now, Mom. Way to go."
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indulgentdaydream · 11 days
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soft hc’s for Jason please!
I LOVE SOFT JASON
y'all should know by now how much of a SUCKER i am for domestic jason holy
he just likes to hold you.
just anywhere
in the kitchen, his arms are around your waist, hugging you from behind
in bed, that man is holding you like you are his beloved childhood teddy bear
which you basically are but you're his beloved ADULTHOOD teddy bear you know
he is such a teddy bear though
big rough hands yet they are the gentlest in the universe when he needs them to be
which he really only needs them to be for you and any children he encounters on patrol
OH MY GOD JASON WITH KIDS
the way he interacts with the crime alley kids makes my heart CRY
he sits there with them for hours
he'll let the smaller ones climb all over him as much as they want
he'll play wrestle with the bigger ones (though he's still holding back 99%. those "bigger" kids are still as small as he was from the lack of nutrition
you find him in the kitchen one day cooking like three huge pots of some simple yet delicious warm meal all at once
he's like some italian grandmother
"they need meat on their bones"
everyday he comes home from patrol covered in blood
one night he comes home covered in stickers and you break out laughing at him
"SHUT UP AND HELP ME FIND A WAY TO KEEP THEM ALL"
he has a "sticker book" but it's just a blank journal and the pages are filled with all the stickers he's been given
this man wants kids. he wants them. but he doesn't think he'd be a good dad. so he doesn't let himself KNOW that he wants them. he pushes it aside
(if any of you come out of the woodworks saying it's because willis was a bad dad. that's because you misunderstand poor people. sorry not sorry post of you don't get what it's like to be poor and grow up poor)
you see this man when y'all are on dates in public. You look over to ask him something and find him staring off somewhere, a soft yet longing smile on his face.
it's always when he sees a dad with their kid, interacting/playing with them
you lost him in walmart once and found him in the baby section looking at all the clothes with the same exact look that could be spotted from across the section where you were spying on him
give this man a child when he is ready PLEASE
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oncomingnight · 10 months
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Yandere! Jock ⋆.ೃ࿔* :・
I thought of writing this while I was drinking coffee and listening to music and I just couldn"t help myself. So, I decided to give you guys some southern representation which I'm surprised I haven't done already since I'm from Texas. I hope you all enjoy and never hesitate in reaching out to me ♡.
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Emmett was positioned as the quarterback in his high school football team. He was an incredibly good student in both terms of behavior and knowledge. It wasn't rare for anyone that was into men to have an attraction to him, if you didn't want to date him, then, you wanted to be his closest friend. There was an extremely alluring nature that Emmett carried with him that made everyone around him feel as if they were on top of the world. If you were hanging out with him and a couple of friends, he was always the complete reason as to why you were laughing and smiling.
He would constantly invite you over to his house and if your parents were strict, he'd go to your house and enter through a window to your bedroom. He'll be quiet he swears, but don't be surprised if you have to slap your hand over his mouth when he loudly coos over your childhood pictures.
As expected, Emmett comes from an extremely powerful family that has connections on connections. This means that any crime committed by him would be quietly hidden away from the public eye, why wouldn't he take advantage of that? He keeps an incredibly close eye on you so he notices when someone either flirts or insults you.
Any of those actions end in death for the perpetrator.
His mom and dad absolutely adore you, along with his younger brother. His brother will show you his newly bought toys and his parents are constantly asking him about you. "She's a real sweet girl, Em. When do you think she'll be comin' back to visit?" Each and every time Emmett brings you on over to his house, you're greeted with three tight, warm hugs and a table full of delicious southern comfort food.
His hands are practically stitched to your body at all times of the day. He'll softly grab your waist with his ring-ridden hand, caressing both sides of your face as he kisses you as if it's the last thing he'll do, gently touching your thighs whilst the two of you lay in his bed.
He loves nothing more than the feeling of knowing you're watching him as he's playing on the field, this motivates him to work even harder to hear your words of praise after the game is over. Teammates of his will tease him about the love-drunken look he gives you when the two of you are together and how ecstatic the expression on his face is as you gush about his performance. He couldn't care one bit, though, if anything, he adores thinking about how in love the two of you look to the outside world.
His favorite song artists he enjoys listening to as he thinks about you are Glen Campbell, Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton, Ray Charles, Cleve Francis and The Delfonics.
Emmett will drive you to a drive-in movie theater, placing homemade food, snacks, bottled drinks, quilted blankets, fluffed pillows and a camcorder (for memories) into the truck bed.
He's well aware that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you and he wants to make life perfect for you. Emmett wants to move into a big ol' house surrounded by fertile and green land, the only thing is, he wants to build your future home. One night as the two of you were cuddled up in his bed and watching a thriller, he popped the question. "What do you want? In a house, I mean. Do you want an arched doorway, a patio, or a cute lil' greenhouse in the back? Tell me, I'll give you anythin' you want, you know that, baby."
Every time him and his family go on a group vacation, he'll always invite you as if he didn't already book a plane ticket for you. He couldn't imagine anything better than spending almost a month together with you and sharing a hotel room.
How could you ever say no?
Emmett would be at the mall with his family and purchase anything he knows will look good on you without any hesitation. That same day, he'll call you before knocking on your window to present the gift he purchased whilst thinking of you. The floral dress he'd bought being packaged in a black velvet box with a dark red satin ribbon wrapped around it.
In southern culture, there is no shock towards young couples being wed as soon as they finish high school. So, don't be surprised when he gets on one knee during a candle lit dinner he prepared in the middle of the botanical garden he bought out just for this night.
He's yours forever.
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venmondiese · 2 months
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Stress Relieving Purposes
For @targaryen-dynasty sleepover challenge, again thank you so much!!
Trope is friends with benefits and the AU is College AU. The prompts are 23: “this is a one time thing” and 129: “i can’t hold back anymore”
Summary: Exam week is probably one of the worst things humankind has to experience in college, so you have a brilliant idea for you and your bestfriend; get laid. For that, a study group might help you get closer to those you wanna get with. but fate is always a funny thing
✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, masturbation (m), (kind of?) sex video, car sex, praising kink, degradation kink, dom/sub undertones, oral sex (m receiving), ✧Word Count: 10.5k ✧taglist: @qyburnsghost ✧˖°⊹♡ @cupidelocke ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧Note: I am so happy and excited, because i loved the trope, au and prompt given to me. I spent days thinking how to make it perfect (i wrote like 4 versions of this, lol) and i am proud of the results. Yes, I went insane and wrote exactly 10529 words, but hey, who is counting?
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Aemond Targaryen was always an unconventional man. Even so, an unconventional friend. Maybe you spoke too much, always an extrovert, and he was more reserved. You were always admired by many, and he was always repealing the simps. 
“Why didn’t you tell me about Aegon’s party?” You ask almost offended by him, as she comes to sit by his side. He rolls his eye as he turns to look at you. 
“I thought you were in Epistemology by now”
“I was” you say to him “But do I care? no. I care more for why you didn’t tell me, Cregan Stark was there” You say to him and patting his shoulder as if wanting him to realise the seriousness of the situation. “Cregan Stark!” You repeat in a low tone.
“Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell you...” he says trying to refocus on the paper in front of him, both hands in his temple as he tries to ignore you, yet you appear in his good eye peripheral view. 
“Come on, why didn’t you invite me? I thought we were friends” you say looking at him like a wet puppy.
“Do not start-”
“I’ll ask Aegon to do another” you say quickly “He’ll let me go”
“He’ll be the one to try to get in your pants” Aemond says, not looking at you. “And you need someone to present to you to Jace, so he can present Cregan to you. Aegon will do no best than to embarrass you”
You hum, as he knows your intentions well. He was your best friend since the start of college, and you two… worked together. He had your back, and you had his; he heard you ramble about your weekly crush and you heard about the books he read. Of course a friendship between you both was good, as you have managed to get along and become close. Yet, Aemond could not deny the sexual tension sometimes. 
As if you didn’t catch him looking at your boobs. As if he didn’t catch you looking at his body in the gym.
“So go with me to convince him” you beg him. 
“I am not in mood for parties”
“Because of Alys?” She asks, sighing and rolling her eyes “Get over her, it’s like the twentieth time you two broke up.” 
“Seventh time, and it’s not that” he corrects you, turning his head to look at you, and you roll your eyes.
“It is that, I know you” You say looking at him and she takes his right hand and she inspects it “Aha!” You turned his hand to his face “The body of the crime. You have been picking your fingernails” You expose him so easily.
“It was one time, and it is because I have a damn exam Monday that my brain cannot seem to want to study” He says, sighing, and showing you the papers. He looks stressed, like the little eye bags under his eyes tell you enough. 
You look at him, and you press your lips together. “Then you need a distraction, like.. Going to a party?”
“Absolutely not” he says, rolling his eyes. “University is for study. Not for parties” He says, looking at you almost scolding you.
“Come on, what did you do when you needed to relieve stress from the last exam season?”
“Alys” he responds with a smirk, which makes you gag. “And things with her that you don’t wanna know.”
“First of all, ew” You say looking at him as you are basically seated on the weirdest position by his side, your elbow resting on the table as you are turned to him, keeping the conversation alive. “Second of all, Alys? Really? You could go to a party and..”
“No parties”
You remain silent a bit as he starts to refocus his attention on his papers, but you can’t just keep quiet, it seems.
“Then get laid”
“I swear to the gods-”
“But think about it!” You say, and you can hear the ´shhh´somewhere in the library, so you sigh “Think about it” You repeat almost in a whisper “Let’s say, I present to you… Floris Baratheon, or anyone else from my friend group. You present me Cregan Stark, and we both get laid. You then, wake up tomorrow with a renewed energy to study to your political philosophy exam, and you get a perfect score as you always did… before her”
“Do you truly think getting laid will help me study? You are so delusional” He shakes his head as he searches for his last essay to have something to study.
“Ouch, rude.” You state “But it will help. She broke your heart!” Your whisper is loud, as if scolding him. “And you are miserable for it, if you don’t believe me, ask your fingers; if they are not too busy bleeding” You add sarcastically. 
He squints his eyes at you, and he sighs. You were insufferable, in more than one way. But most of the time, you were right. In an odd and annoying way, you were right. He wasn’t concentrating, at all. No matter how hard he forced himself, it wasn’t working.
“It is clouding your mind. You have to get rid of the problem by root; you either let your frustrations go away, or we just gonna have to kill Alys” You say shrugging.
“Absolutely not.” He says and he rolls his eyes.
He looks at how you really want this, and he sighs. Maybe he could do something that could benefit you both. 
“Maybe I could invite them to our study session” He says, almost instantly regretting his choice, but you seem too excited to care.
“Oh… That’s brilliant!” You say excited and you lean to kiss his cheek in excitement, and you lean back. 
“I’ll invite Jace, and tell him to bring his friend group. The northerner will be there” He added.
“That is brilliant, truly brilliant” You repeat, and he has to roll his eye at how amazed you seem by his ideas. “We get to study, and then get laid.”
“It’s a study group, not an orgy” He clarifies.
“I know, imbecile. I mean, study… and then after, Cregan and I go to your room…”
“ABSOLUTELY NOT” he clarifies very quickly, and someone also shushes him. “It's going to be in Aegon’s house. I am not risking my own home for people to come, besides, Vhagar hates visits” 
“Whatever, it is so exciting!” You say clapping happily as he collects all his papers and books, and the same student at your side tries to shush you again. “I’ll invite Floris and you Cregan”
“You just want to get laid” Aemond says in a sigh. 
“You do too” You say, smirking. “For stress relieving purposes”
The thing that Aemond finds annoying, apart from your obnoxious talking, is how indecisive you were sometimes. You would worry and obsess over the smallest details out of control. And it probably bothered him because he was the same.
Much hours later, he was sitting on your bed, as he checked his phone. The photo of him and Alys was still one of the last things in his gallery, and he often looked at it, looking at her smile, at her eyes, and how her hand rested on his leather jacket. He looked happy; as happy as Aemond can look. She has her typical red lipstick, and her hands with the perfect manicure that he liked when scratched his hair. 
He sighs, and he bites his lip without knowing what to feel, he hates her, he misses her. But he knows it is for the best to let her go.
“Do not tell me you are looking at her photos” You say on the other side of your dorm, as you apply the last parts of your makeup.
“Can’t I miss her?” He asks you.
“You can, and you will. She was your girlfriend.” The little shrug and how you look away knows you are not teasing him as usual. “You weren’t on the same page”
“How can someone… old can be so… indecisive and not know what they want?”
“Old but immature” You say, rolling your eyes. “I am not one to hate women, you know it is not my style, but I swear, that woman..:”
“I know” He says, turning off his phone, and he turns his head to look at you. “Do you think I'm over that so fast?" he sighs, feeling a little bit of relief as she is serious about the matter. Even if she always teased, she was a good listener when needed. "I don't know what is wrong with me. I miss her, and every time I see a woman I compare them to her" he mutters rubbing his eyes a bit.
“I have been there” You say as you keep applying some blush on your cheek, looking at yourself in the mirror as you keep the conversation flowing. “It is not the end of the world. It sounds mean, but… Nobody died, the world didn’t explode…”
“I know” he murmurs, and he sighs. “But I miss her” he insists.
“Oh, yeah” You roll your eyes as he clearly didn’t hear anything you said at all, turning your head to face him. You smirk almost mischievously as your eyebrows raise a bit “Poor Aemond, missing his sugar mommy”
“She was not my sugar mommy”
“She was the grandma to your Aaron Taylor Joy. The Elvis to your Pricilla, the… Woody Allen to your… I don’t know the name of his stepdaughter.”
Aemond has to laugh at that, because as ridiculous you were, you always made him laugh with your stupid things. It makes him feel better, because he is always serious, and you are so unserious. 
“Shut up” he says laughing a bit, and he sighs, feeling slightly better. 
“Point is, she is much older and you are much… inexperienced in the field.” You say with a nod “And you are far better not having to live up to her expectations” His hum is the only thing he does, and at least you know he heard you.
“I thought you liked her. When we were together you always were friendly, sharing makeup and stuff” He murmurs. 
“I am always going to be a friend of your girlfriends, and a hater when they are your exes.”
You stand up after finishing your makeup, trying to look tidy and clean before the mirror, and you accommodate your hair so it looks fine. It is a bit endearing how you try to look as best as possible, as you reach for perfume before applying it from head to toe. 
You look amazing, he has to admit. You wear a green skirt with a black tie front top, very revealing in his opinion, but it was still cute. You even took the time to search for a headband to match it all, which made him chuckle a bit. Even your makeup noted the effort you put into this outfit, and he knew very well what you wanted; to get laid.
“So, I thought that maybe the heels were too much, but these boots are really..”
“We are just going over to study… Wait, are you ovulating?” He asks, looking at the date on his phone, and he looks at you.
“Maybe? Are you asking me that because I wanna get laid?” You say unsure why he asks. “Shut up” you murmur amused at the idea.
He knows you are, for sure. He wasn’t too sure what the effect of ovulation was on women, but for some reason, they were always hotter in those days. At least, you were right now; your figure was well defined, he could even swear your breasts were rounder and firmer. His fingers tap his own thigh as he thinks deep about it, as you ramble about your outfit.
“I can see your ass” He says, looking at you.
“That’s the whole point” You add moving your top a little lower, so your boobs are practically spilling out. “To make him drool for me”
“In a study group…”
“If I like a man, I wanna see him hard just from the sight of me” You clarify as you accommodate your hair.
Aemond is not listening to you. You move slightly as you look in the mirror, and the way you lean to make sure your tits look decent, tempting but not obscene. He has a good view of it, your tits are definitely different. Is it because you are ovulating? 
Because you look absolutely gorgeous, showing skin yet it isn’t so indecent. Suggestive? Yes. But it doesn’t make you look bad. It is reasonable. Why do you look so good, though?
“I think I know what is missing” You say as you walk to search for one of your favourite earrings. 
As you lean to grab your earring, you quickly put them on and you nod at yourself; you look good. You like it, you feel confident enough to go to a man and flirt.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, feeling Aemond’s eyes bore into your skin, and you look at his reflection in the mirror, and he looks back at you.
“Like what?” He asks in a raspy tone as he accommodates in the bed, sitting with open legs as he plays with his phone in his hands. 
“I don’t know” you shrug. “Is it so bad?”
“Horribly bad” he says, trying to tease you but it sounds strangled and you nod satisfied. 
As you finish some touches on your outfit, you look at him and nod, “ I am satisfied with that”
He hums, using his phone once again and seeing the image of Alys that was still there when he unlocked his own phone. She was radiant, of course. She was always so… Convincing. But for now, at least, it isn't her who he lusts after. It feels a bit like a betrayal, even if he wasn’t hers and she wasn’t his anymore. Yet… he does not feel guilty.
“One would say that at the seventh time you would have learned something” You say teasingly, and you are quick to move and grab his phone from your hands. “To delete the pictures”
“Give it back” he says trying to grab his phone, quickly standing up and moving his hands, following yours as you try to dodge his attempts. “It isn’t funny”
“It only hurts you, you look like a wet puppy-”
“I don’t want to let her go”
“You must” you insist and he has both arms at the side of your waist, his hands trying to grab his phone behind your back. “Let me delete them. You clearly can’t”
“No”
“You need it”
“It is the only thing I have left” He insists, a bit defeated by it all, he was stubborn (As you also were)
“Trust me” you say softly, looking at him with your kind eyes. Kinder than his ever were. “Trust me” you repeat looking at him.
He sighs, his body against yours and his arms grabbing your wrists. He lets go of his firm grip, but he doesn’t move. He looks at you, with deep eyes and lost in thought. Maybe too close, for your opinion, since his chest practically presses against yours and his breath hits your own face.
“I don’t want to be here when it happens” he murmurs.
“Wait in the car then” you say looking at him. “I’ll delete most of them. Won’t take me more than five minutes” 
“Don’t inscribe me in a essosi gay porn site or something, my mum would kill me if she ever-” he says looking at her with slight worry.
“Go” you insist, taking his phone in his hands.
His lockscreen was a picture of Vhagar, the little grumpy thing frowning as much as a cat can, even if it is adorable it was still just a quick change from the Alys wallpaper. 
Aemond is probably the most organised person in your friend group,so when you enter his gallery you see all the carpets with photos. 
Alys pops up first, as her name started with the first letter in the alphabet. You look at the photo in the cover of the file, and you roll your eyes at the photo. You press the file and it is all photos of her, some with him, some alone. You press one, of where he seems all smiles and she kisses his cheek, and then you select all of those and you sigh.
It was even hard for you, it felt a bit wrong. But you just press delete all the files, and then all 148 photos and videos are gone. You watch the album disappear and back the rest of the albums. 
There was one of you. 
You frown a bit confused, and there are a lot of moments with you that he organised. You can see some of the photos of the plates you eat together and you posing at the background, ruining his photos (as you like to call it)
There are some selfies, and some photos of you, totally unaware of his doing, you have to giggle a bit, because probably half of them you looked terribly, but you knew he was a gentleman enough to delete those ones
And there is the video.
You do not recognise what it could be at first, the photo of the preview was oddly just the ceiling and the top of his silver hair. You frown confused, because it was mildly recent and you do not remember a video. Aemond wasn’t a fan of videos either, he preferred the immortality of photos. 
You hesitantly press it, and the video starts as Aemond sat on his couch. Was it his apartment? Yes. By his clothes, you knew that he came right after the gym. He was wearing that tight black shirt and his sweatpants. 
“Tis’ stupid” he murmurs as he sits, and he sighs. You see how he accommodates the camera on the coffee table in front of the couch, and he takes a bit to get it at the right angle. You don’t understand much, as the angle only shows his lower body part, from his torso to his knees. 
Once you understand, he is already lowering his sweatpants to his knees, and he sighs. You freeze in place as his very prominent erection comes to light, almost jumping once free from his pants, and he is quick to grab it with his hands, just taunting it softly.
“I’m really horny” he says and he chuckles a bit, embarrassed, you could tell. He was a bit awkward as he presented his erection to the camera. “For you, really…” He admits in a low murmur. 
You really don’t see what happens with his hand off camera, but he then starts to slowly caress his erection. That man, your best friend. And you are paralysed looking at that. As he whimpers and masturbates for a camera, his pale skin from his thighs and abdomen showing, and you could see the ring with dragon scales that he never takes off. 
“That’s it” he murmurs in a low tone, almost muffled by the microphone as he leans back on the sofa, showing you more of his chest and part of his chin, as he licks his lips. His hands stroke his cock softly, as you can see his right hand goes down to fondle his balls, as the palm of his left hand moves to the tip of his dick and starts moving around it.
It’s… weird, to say the least. You never saw, or thought about him this way. Okay. Scratch that. You never had entertained the idea of him doing this. The idea that Aemond… could be hot. Of course you knew he was hot, but it was different seeing him masturbate as he whimpers and fucks his hand for a camera. And it was… strange. The pleasure accumulating on your belly as you heard him curse. It felt… betraying. Somehow. 
“Fuck, Alys-”
You instantly pause the video at that. The name of her is like a bucket of cold water thrown at you, and you snap back into reality. You can feel your cheeks red, and embarrassment floods your senses. Almost trembling, you close all applications and then sigh. 
He must have organised it wrongly. You are sure of that. Maybe he meant to delete it? And accidentally ended on your carpet? Weird, but somehow ended there. He must have not meant it, of course… It wasn’t like a tribute to you, probably meant for Alys, since he obviously moaned her name and talked to the camera as if putting on a show. 
Ew. Alys really managed to convince the reserved Aemond Targaryen to do this? You are actually quite intrigued and a bit impressed by her. 
Once you enter the car, Aemond is resting his head back on his seat, and he barely opens his eyes to look at you, barely turning his head to watch you.
“And?”
“I successfully did the task. And now you joined the Night’s Watch, so don’t worry about that”
“Ha ha” he says, taking his phone back, without more suspicion he just puts it in his pocket. You blink a bit looking at his arms and his lap, and you turn your head to the road.
You two stand in silence as the short drive to Aegon’s apartment, and since Aemond gets brother’s privileges, he totally uses Aegon’s parking spot.
“And his car?” You ask, confused as he parks in the place that clearly has an ‘22F’ and not the one for visits.
“You think that he still has a car? He probably already crashed it while drunk” 
“To be fair, I didn’t know what I expected” you shrugged “And I suppose that his career…”
“Yep. He dropped out of Graphic design.” Aemond says without much care, since everyone was used to Aegon just dropping out of college each week. He turned off the engine and looked at you.  “So… Cregan Stark”
“Yes, Cregan Stark” you say, as it is your main goal for tonight. 
“What is your plan?” He asks leaving the keys in his pocket as he turns to look at you still, the car was off but you two stayed there. 
“Well, I go there and I greet him”
“Uh huh…”
“No, no, your nephew. Yeah, so you present me to Jace. And you ask him to present me to Cregan” 
“But… what about the impressions?” He looks at you expectantly “You don’t want to be the weird friend from my best friend’s uncle”
“Well, I can’t just… go there and throw myself at him.”
“Okay” He says resting his hands on his thighs, and he taps them “Pretend I am Cregan”
“That is so lame…”
“We did that when I wanted to talk to Alys, remember that you pretended to be her?” He says with a smirk, and he looks at you with a nod. 
“Look where it got us” You murmur and he rolls his eyes “Fine, okay, I’ll… stay there”
You step out of the car and sigh. Luckily, there was no one else in the parking lot to judge your weird tradition. You play with the door handle and pretend that you are truly going to talk to Cregan Stark.
“Hey” You say sitting and looking at him.
“Hey” Cregan would say. You move your hair a bit and you smile a bit. 
You present yourself and extend your hand, and Cregan would shake it. He was surely very polite, you both knew. So you continue.
“I just saw you from afar and wanted to talk to you” You start saying, as your fingers play with the edge of your skirt as you look at your lap. “Like, outside from the study session, of course…”
“You have to look at him” Aemond murmurs, stepping out of character. 
Right. “You surely have seen me in some of Jace’s parties, and in some classes” You add. 
“Oh, yeah. I remember his Sevenmas party” Cregan would say, and crossing his arms. 
“Yeah! You remember…” Your voice is more light, and you would look at Cregan. “I had a good first impression from you”
“From accidentally throwing Jace’s Sevenmas tree downstairs?” Aemond Cregan would laugh, and you laugh a bit as he leans back on his seat, his hands in his pockets. He is attractive, and you press your thighs together as you accommodate in your seat as well, your body turning to face him even more as your attraction increases.
“It was a bit funny, but it wasn’t… It was a human mistake. I thought it was cute” You say with a thin smile.
“You helped to clean that mess, if I recall” He would point out.
You nod. Even if the real Cregan doesn’t know that, because he was not aware of what happened after he threw it, since he was very much intoxicated and they took him to another room. Aemond and you helped Jace to clean the place. 
“I assure you it was nothing.” You insist “I saw you in the campus another times, and I never had the courage to get closer to you” 
“Oh, why is that?”
“Well… You don’t…” You hesitate to open your feelings, but fuck it. “You don’t seem the type of men that like girls like me”
“Girls like you?”
You nod and smile a bit embarrassed, looking down at your lap. “Well, You are obviously out of my league”
“I wouldn’t say so” His voice hesitates. 
“I would. You are like a superstar in College. I am not.” You shrug a bit, and hum in deep thought. 
“Maybe” Cregan would say “Doesn’t feel like it”
“You surely are after pretty girls, like… Cassandra Baratheon or.. Elinor Massey”
“I am looking at a pretty girl” His hand reaches yours, and you look up. His hand is warm, much bigger than yours and very comforting as he squeezes your a bit. Not Cregan, but Aemond. “What makes you think that I don’t like you?”
You blink, a bit unsure. “I…”
“Because I certainly like you very much” Aemond goes on, smiling very subtly, but it was very alluring to you, and his thumb caressed the back of your hand. “You certainly are a beautiful woman. Who wouldn’t want you?” He asks, leaning a bit closer to you and you look a bit hesitant.
“You must be jesting with me” You add, trying to remain confident, but Aemond was doing his doings. 
“I certainly am not”
“Then I must insist on kissing you” You add reincorporating and also leaning close to him. “It would be a waste if not…” 
Aemond smirks, and his breath hits your face. You knew that he smoked as he waited for you when you deleted his photos, because he smells like cigarettes. You look at his face, his eye looking at your lips and then at your eyes briefly. You both look at each other as your breath and his are practically merging. 
“Isn’t it logical?” You murmur, looking at his eyes, and tauntingly you move your chin closer.
You would kiss him right here and now. You remember the video, how you could see his pretty lips and the whimpers that came out of it. How his big and firm hand caressed his cock, up and down and how his abdomen tightened thanks to it. How his balls seem so full and ready to cum…
 He smirks. “It sounds like it…”
His phone rings. 
You two separated, breaking off the fantasy of it. You sit paralysed in your seat, looking at the other cars parked horrified. 
It was your best friend. Yes,you knew he was hot, you knew he was attractive and you certainly know how perfect his cock is, in more than one way. But we are talking about your Aemond. The one who wiped your tears away and the one who would pass book summaries for classes, and his notes for shared classes when you fell asleep. 
“Aegon wants me to… uh, buy something…” He says, a bit awkward as well, as he doesn’t look at you, but just assumes you are hearing. “So… I’ll go, you can go up and wait there, yeah..”
Once you step out, you would hope for something else, but he just closes the door as you step out and he leaves in his car.
Other times he would give you Aegon’s house keys, for you to enter normally and do whatever you wanted, since you get brother’s best friend privileges. And Aegon never denied you hanging in his house. 
So that is how you find yourself in the middle of the room with a terrified look as you look at the group of people seated in Aegon's living room.
“Hey, Aemond’s shadow” Aegon teases you as he stands up from the couches, and you look at him, a bit embarrassed since all of Jace friend’s
“M’not his shadow” You say trying to defend your image in front of the group. 
“You definitely are” He says amused “Nothing to be ashamed of, darling”
“Oh, shush” you say hitting his shoulder “Have you started studying, anyways?” You ask him curiously. 
“He told me you wanted to meet Cregan Stark” He whispers close to you, almost too nonchalantly to your taste. 
“What, but… b-but Aegon, you’ll embarrass me!” You whisper in panic, as he drags you along, but he shakes his head.
“Aemond told me all ‘bout it. Don’t worry, you’ll be fucking him before you realise it. I’ll even let you fuck in my bedroom” he whispers in your ear before practically pushing you into the living room. 
You frown a bit disgusted at the idea, and you hit his shoulder again. He could be very charming and fun, but you knew Aegon and his weird fixations. Who knew, maybe he even had a camera in his bedroom and you certainly didn’t want him to see that. 
That reminds you of Aemond’s video. Gods be good, you say as you have to blush a bit at the memory.
“Here she is” Aegon says amused, and you tense your shoulders. Jace greets his uncle and you look at Cregan more shyly than you anticipated.“You sure met this lovely shy flower?”
You cringe at how he presents you, this is exactly why you wanted Aemond to do this job.
“Oh, yeah, yeah  you helped me clean my Sevenmas tree when Cregan threw it downstairs” Jace recognizes you and you nod, giggling.
“Yep, it was me”
“Ugh  that was so embarrassing” Cregan groans and you laugh a bit.
“it wasn’t as terrible as you think” you shrug.
“You just broke the millennial seven pointed star from my great great great… great great great grandfather Jaehaerys” Jace says, mocking him.
“I’m pretty sure you exaggerated the ‘great great great’ grandfather part”
“It is old as fuck” Aegon confirms with a nod.
“You wouldn’t know a relic even if it was in front of you” Sara mocks him. Aegon rolls his eyes as he goes to open the door of his house, since his other cousin, Baela also was invited.
“Oh, this is Sara, my sister” Cregan takes advantage of Aegon’s disappearance and introduces her to you, and you introduce yourself to her with a smile.
“Lovely name” she says smiling to you.
“She is my uncle’s best friend” Jace adds and Sara knows in acknowledgement, she then looks at both and asks.
“Which one, the hot one or the other?”
“The hot one” you respond with a confident nod.
“The other one” Jace contradicts you and you both look at each other blinking.
“Ohhh” Sara says a bit confused, amusedly as she looks between you both.
“Wait, you find Aegon hot?” You ask to Jace with a face frown
“Handsome in comparison” He clarifies making room for his dignity “And you find Aemond hot?”
“In comparison” You reply back with the same words. “He is my best friend”
Once you are all together, you think how silly this is. Studying together, how an awful excuse to get closer to Cregan. Aemond comes in some minutes later, sitting by your side on the couch. He doesn’t talk much as he takes out his books and notes.
“Floris, you came” you say as she was the only stranger in the group, and you make a space between Aemond and you, after all, you were playing cupid too. “Sit here!”
The thing with study groups is that everyone is on a different boat. You didn’t have many complaints, you have the same class but on other days, so you just swallow information as Aemond, Jace, Baela and Cregan are the ones more interested in the concepts since their exam is earlier than yours.
You watch Cregan speak, and how he is a bit wrong in central ideas, which Aemond is quick to point out, but you try to correct him smoothly and without making him feel useless.
At one point, you all agree to give up and ask for a pizza in the break, and after it to keep study (That’s what all study groups say before doing the opposite)
In the break, you can hear how Aegon, Baela, Jace and Sara are in the kitchen. Fighting with Aegon as he makes the call for the pizza, screaming at him how they do not want any pineapple on it. Floris has gone to the bathroom, and Cregan went to the balcony to smoke in peace.
You look helplessly as he leaves, and soon Aemond is talking to you.
“And?” he asks curiously, looking at where Cregan disappeared.
“He hates me” You tell him, looking at him with a sigh “He clearly has no interest in me, I didn’t know what I expected”
“I told you Aegon would fuck thing up” You roll your eyes and cross your arms.
“It is not fucked up” You add, stubbornly. “I still have a secret weapon”
“Showing him your tits doesn’t qualify as a secret weapon”
You hum in annoyance and decide to subtly change the subject “And Floris?” 
“Too… perfect” He murmurs, not looking at you “I should go back to her.”
You look at him incredulously and hit his chest “Too perfect?” You ask with a snark “Just… hook up. She wants to” You shrug and pat his back
“Fine. I’ll hook up with her. Do not ask for a ride, because I’ll be busy” 
“Hopefully, I will too” You say, excited at the idea “I'll be with him. Can you handle me a fag?” You ask.
“You don’t smoke” He says incredulously at the idea that you would fake smoking for a man.
“Ugh, fine, I’ll have to ask Cregan, how bad” you say mockingly as you stand up with a smile and walk to the balcony to open it.
Cregan is there and he turns to look at you. He acknowledges you with a nod, and you smile shyly as you close the sliding door.
“Hey. Care to share with a poor lady?” You say
He chuckles and handles you the cigarette, now minding to look at you as he leans on the balcony to look below at the ground. You put the cigarette in your mouth and before you can cough, you throw the air out. A pathetic attempt, but Cregan was not watching you anyways.
“I thought.. I thought you went to Winterfell’s Uni” you say looking at him, leaning on the balcony too as you pass the fag back to him. “Since, well, your family basically founded the institution”
“Oh, yeah, yeah” He says in a raspy tone as he scratches his beard a bit, crossing arms as he leans against the balcony to face inside of the flat, watching how Floris comes back from the bathroom. “But, Jace did two semesters there, and so as his best mate, it’s my turn to do the semesters… here” Cregan says with a nod.
“Oooh, how fancy” You say without really knowing what to say. With Aemond it had been easier, you just talked to him and flirted with him naturally (Because he was just acting as Crean, no other reason), but with the real Cregan it was awkward. “And… ehm, do you like it here?”
It was painfully and horribly awkward. You were tense, and more than attracted to him, you looked terrified. 
“Yeah, yeah, College is fine, I guess” He shrugs, not really immersed in the talk as he smokes looking at the inside of Aegon’s flat.
“We… We actually share another class” You dare to speak again “Logical thinking, Wednesdays in the morning” you say looking at him with a bright smile. 
“Does he always look at you like that?” He asks, pointing at the living room with his cigarette, before smoking another puff.
You turn your head to look where he pointed out, and you blink a bit. Aemond looks at you as Floris Baratheon is talking to him, she wears a pretty floral yellow dress and her long dark hair is loose. Floris has always been as beautiful as kind, and you know she has been interested in Aemond long enough. Not a crush, you’d say, maybe for a hookup.  
“He is just looking after me” You clarify looking back at Cregan. 
“Hm” he says, the cigarette on his lips, he lets out the smoke.
Cregan either didn’t care about Aemond, or he just ignored him, as he passed his cigarette to you, not looking if you properly smoked it. 
“Thank you, you didn’t have to” You say smiling to him, and you hear how Jace and Aegon talk about drinking some vodka or tequila to ‘suppress the stress in the room’
“It was no problem” He says, with a chuckle looking inside again “You like vodka?”
“A little too strong for me” You say with a laugh.
“Oh” He says looking at you “Well, in the North you can buy one basically in every corner. More when it is Winter”
You blink a bit, and you nod. Did you just fucked up? Because you remember how offended Aemond was when you told him Dragons weren’t that cool. Maybe it was the same for Cregan… You look at him, and he is inside once again, not really minding at you.
“I am sure in the north it is more tasty” You try to save the situation, and you briefly look at where Floris is, but not at the sight of Aemond. “Which is your favourite flav-”
“Do you know Alysanne Blackwood?” He asks suddenly, and your cheeks burn due to that.
“Oh?” You ask confused.
“I do not mean to be rude” He adds, looking at you “You are a lovely lady, but you see.. I am after another girl. Like Jace’s uncle is after you”
“Aegon is not-”
“The other” He says as if it was obvious. “And I have been wanting to get with Alysanne for a long time, do you know about her business with Frey's girlfriend?” 
You blink confused at him, and you shake your head slowly.
“No, not really…”
“Oh, a pity. Jace and I have been dying to know about it, to know if she is single, I mean. And if she is interested in men as she is to women..” From the start of the conversation, this is the most he has talked about. And it didn’t involve you. But his crush who he was after. 
“I am pretty sure that…” You say looking at your hands, a bit nervous “That Oscar Tully must know, he is into gossip and-”
“Thank you” Cregan says smiling to you, before patting your shoulder and leaving you alone at the balcony, as Jace calls his name from inside to decide between vodka or tequila. You remain confused, ashamed and a bit awkward.
You walk inside to spot Floris once again. She has a juice glass on her hand and she is talking to Baela, both sitting on the couch, but you didn’t see Aemond.
“Hey, Flo” You say, patting her shoulder, and she smiles as you join them. “Have you seen Aemond?”
“Aemond?” She asks with a laugh, and she shakes her head “He wasn’t that interested in me, y’know, like I even offered to go to one of Aegon’s rooms, but he wasn’t in the mood.” She shrugs nonchalant, because that was Floris, she never made a deal if things didn’t end up happening. 
“Oh” You say, a bit confused. He said he was going to go with her. “And he didn’t say..?”
“Nope” She shrugs “Maybe Aegon knows”
“If he is not too busy fighting with Jace about the drinks. Thanks” 
As you pull Aegon aside, you can see how Jace and Cregan take out the vodka drink from Aegon’s collection and they offer it to everyone (Which is only the other three girls, but it was a majority)
“No idea. He said he was going to go to the gym, but I don’t think so. He took his cigarettes, so probably smoking”  Aegon shrugs, as he makes himself a drink with tequila (You are very sure he got the measures wrong, because no drink has that much whisky) “Maybe he is in his car, texting Alys like the sad meow meow he claims to be”
You roll your eyes, but you thank him. You leave the apartment, in a different way you thought you would be leaving. Hopefully, with Cregan it was your bet. Now, it was all alone and in search of Aemond.
Once the lift leaves you on the parking floor, you walk a bit to encounter Aemond, his back leaning against the copilot's seat by his car, his phone on his right hand and a cigarette in his mouth. He doesn’t look like someone who was at a party, less someone who seems to be having fun.
“Hey” You say softly, finally speaking in a normal tone after so much noise.
Aemond looks up, frowning to see you in front of him like a wet puppy. “What are you doing here? And Cregan?”
You sigh, and you look at the ground. You tried, so hard. You did all kinds of juggling, for nothing. He wasn’t even interested in you, the whole time. 
“Hey” He says as he throws his cigarette to step on it, and he saves his phone from his pocket, two steps and his arms are all around you, hugging you safely in his chest as his chin is in the top of your head. “It’s okay, it’s okay..” He says soothingly, rubbing your back as if he knew you would cry.
And you normally wouldn’t truly, but his soothing actions and caring nature makes you a bit more vulnerable than usual. Not crying, but you feel more disappointed as he tries to make it better.
“He is an asshole, you will get over him..” He says softly “It’s fine, do not…, I’m sorry” He says rubbing your back
“Tis not your fault” You murmur as you lean your head on his chest.
“I should’ve been the one to pair you with him, not leave Aegon to it” 
“It would have gone horribly anyways.” You say, passing your arms in his waist to hug him back. It was nice to have him close and hugging you. “He is just… Not interested in me” You add, a bit frustrated. “Because I apparently suck and am the most boring girl ever”
“You are not” He says sternly, moving a bit back to look at you, and you look up at him “You don’t say that, you are…” He looks at your face, as if finding words as he tries to remember each tiniest detail of your expression; how your eyes look up to him, how your mouth is like a pout, and how your cheeks are a slight shade of pink. “You are incredibly amazing.”
You look at him for a moment, both of your faces so close and you look at his lips. He was so charmingly handsome, and the way he comforts you makes you feel secure enough to gain some confidence. And for him… he couldn’t bear it any longer, he can’t physically hold back.
The kiss you two share is maybe purely impulsive, or maybe it is the consequence of a long shared tension between you both. But at the moment, neither of you pay any mind to the fact. 
In his arms, he has caged you and his hair briefly falls,touching the sides of your face and some of your cleavage. You squeeze him a bit in your embrace, kissing him back eagerly and it is slow, passionate and something that it was obviously longed for. 
Aemond moves your hair to take it in his hands, his fist grabbing a handful of your hair as he moves his arms away from the hug, now holding you to stay as he deepens the kiss and his (and your) desire grow and grow. 
Maybe you both didn’t want to stop the kiss not to face the consequences, how kissing a friend would potentially ruin your friendship, and nothing will ever be the same. You certainly don’t want the after talk about it afterwards. 
“Mhm” Aemond says as you both separate. “This is much better, Yeah?” He says nuzzling his nose in your cheek as his voice is like soft silk. You were a bit confused of this all, of this weird way of comforting you. “You made sure to look so beautiful for a useless boy, mhm? Cregan Stark cannot call himself a man when he cannot appreciate a pretty girl like you.” He says softly, his hands caressing your back, and going down to the lower of your back, where your naked skin shows. 
You are a bit confused, still leaning to his affections because damn  if they aren’t nice. Your body practically craves it, part as to why you were so looking forward to getting laid. 
“Aemond, we…”
“Shh, I know…” he murmurs as he leans to leave a little kiss on your neck. “But… we had a goal for tonight, hm? Didn’t we?” His tone is soothing, almost hypnotic. “It could do good for us” He adds softly, moving your hair to plant another kiss on your neck.
“We… we are best friends…” You say, a bit worried about ruining it. There was a clear difference between platonic and other feelings, romantic or sexual. And as clear as it came, it was also very thin. 
“This is only a one time thing…” He murmurs, his hand still caressing your back and waist. His head slowly rises from your neck to look at you with his eye full of lust and starving desire. “For stress relieving purposes, yeah?”
You are convinced by his words, because Aemond could always be convincing enough. You knew that, but you also knew that you longed for him. It was as if all the day was aimed up to this moment; the video, the small tease in the car and now this kiss. 
You quickly realise that you want him, as much as he seems to want you. At the same time, you both need it. Alys, Cregan, the exams and all had you on your nerves. It was like walking in eggshells around the other, because your body and mind couldn't take a break after one thing, because in fact, life never waits for you to recover, just goes on and you are expected to go along on or get lost in the way.
“Yeah. yeah, fuck me” You murmur in his lips as now it is you who kisses him back, pressing boldly your body to his, as your hands move away the hair from his face. He still smells like cigarettes, and his scent is masculine, maybe the new cologne that he bought a few weeks ago. The way that he grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him was almost desperate, almost as if he never wanted this to end. He is craving it, he is starved. 
He basically handles your body to the copilot’s seat, pushing it all the way back and lowering the backrest a bit lower, but not too much. He sits on it and practically drags you to his lap as he desires, closing the door behind you. You have to lower your head a bit, but he takes no time in passing his hands under your shirt and all the way in your back.
“You are not wearing a bra” he notes looking at you raising his eyebrows. 
“Doesn’t the building’s parking lot have cameras?” You ask looking out the windows.
“Answer me” He says, looking at you. “You are not wearing a bra”
“No. The shirt is a bit tight on the chest area, it basically is like a push-up..” You murmur looking the other way “Are you sure that there aren’t any…?”
“I don’t care” He murmurs, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulls you against his chest, as he kisses and nibbles your neck. “I hope they do. We could have a sextape of this moment” He says smiling as he moves lower to your collarbone. 
“Aemond!” You say a bit flustered, and his hot kisses feel so good in your skin, and you move your hands to grab his hair.
“You make me so hard, I cannot hold back anymore” He says desperately, moving your chin to share another kiss between you both. You were as desperate as him, but you were more subtle, he thinks, because he knows you well. 
He knew that you were cautious, following his lead. You might be confused, and a bit hesitant to ruin your friendship with him. But not doing this probably will do, he is sure of that.
He takes your hand and moves it to the bulge on his black pants, and you look down. Gods, even when clothed, his cock was huge. You had seen it in video, but touching it and looking at it, made you drool. You looked at him, and he was staring at your eyes, pink cheeks as he looked flustered.
“You make me so hard” he murmurs, looking at you “So, so hard. Your slutty green skirt, and that shirt that barely hides your tits, Gods woman, you were right, you could make any man drool for you” he says moving the hair out of your face.
“I wanna suck you” you murmur, your eyes hesitant and almost innocently looking at him. Fuck, he could cum just at those words coming out of your mouth.
You accommodate as you can in the floor of the car, a bit awkward and your upper body forcefully is forward, right at the height of his cock. You look up at him as you unbuckle his belt, the little metallic sound makes your pussy more wet, as Aemond looks at you almost amazed. 
He lifts his hips as you lower his pants and underwear, his dick jumping free, standing fully hard and leaking a bit of precum at the tip, which is a little red and it is a bit swollen. It was better in person. 
You lean a bit, as you spit on the head of his cock, and pass your hand through it, as Aemond lets a low “Fuck” as his hips tense and hesitates, as if he was holding back.
“Cregan Stark doesn’t deserve you” He says as your hand goes up and down on his cock, and you look up to him. He likes it, how powerless and innocent you look sitting between his legs and stroking his hard cock. It makes his ball tighten more. “Look at you, a needy girl for a cock” He says moving his hand to caress your cheek, and his thumb caresses your lower lip. 
Your lips  encircle around his thumb, and suckle just a little bit, as your hand keeps stroking his dick, slowly but firmly. Your pussy is aching with need, one of your hands barely touches your pussy over your panties, and you melt a bit as you suckle his thumb.
“I love your cock” You admit, looking at him with needy eyes, and he knows your words are sincere. “Tis better in real life”
Aemond frowns as he tilts his head, confused as to what you mean. “Hm?”
You don’t respond, as you stroke it and move to leave little kitten licks in the top, but he moves your chin away, as you forcefully try to get back to sucking his dick.
“No, tell me what you meant” His voice is like one when scolding a child, but you shake your head, trying to get your way. “Don’t be a brat”
“I saw it before” you say, moving his hand away, and he doesn’t make it go back. “In a video, earlier. It was in your gallery”
He realises what you mean, and he slaps your face slightly with his right hand. It wasn’t harsh, but you realise two things. The power this man had over you, and how much you liked that fact.
“Needy whore” he murmurs, looking at you, and you almost whine as he slaps your hand away from his cock. “It was not meant for you to see”
“It was on the carpet with my name!” You say to him.
“You touched yourself while seeing that video, hm?” He asks, leaning a bit, sitting back as his face is over yours. You almost whine again. “Your pussy was always so needy for my cock, hm? You couldn’t even get closer to Cregan tonight. If he was the one fucking you right now as you slutty brain wanted, you would still be thinking of my cock”
You lick your lips as his eyes are penetrating on yours, and you don't respond to his words. It may be a harsh truth, but how it turned you on.
“Little needy thing you are” He murmurs, leaning back again so he can rest against the back of the seat. He takes his dick on his hands, and smirks mischievously as he slaps it on your check. “Needy for this? This is what you want?” He mocks you as he slaps his cock in your cheek and closer to his mouth.
“Yes” you murmur blushing and trying to lick it as he does so, and he lets a shake breath at your naughty action.
“Open your mouth”
He grabs your hair again in his fist, the same hair he saw you so dedicatedly to make sure it was perfect, and he lowers your head to suck him off. Your throat takes his cock as he bobs your head, moaning breathlessly as he uses your mouth for his pleasure.
And you love it. His hips start to lowly thrust in your mouth, abusing your throat as he looks down at you. You looked so hot, so perfect. He didn’t know how you two didn’t do this before.
“Yeah, just like that” he murmurs fucking your throat before he lets you breathe a bit after so much time without air. You feel as if those minutes were barely seconds as you sucked his dick. “Come here. Take off your panties”
You don’t have to be told twice.
He lifts up the end of your skirt, as he holds your waist a bit. He looks at you, and his thumb moves to clean the drool in your chin. 
“There is… there is a condom behind you” he murmurs and you tilt your head “there are condoms in the glove compartment” 
You frown, but you take one off, and Aemond is the one to put it on himself, while you watch “How optimistic to save condoms there” you say smirking a bit. 
“Oh shut up. Look, it serves for something now” he says smiling as his hand caresses your thigh. “I will prep you” he murmurs, moving his fingers closer to your centre.
“No” You stop his hand and you look at him. He frowns, and of course you want his fingers on your pussy. “I want your cock better”
Now he doesn’t have to be told twice.
You two accommodate as you can, he helps you lower your hips in his cock, and you hold from anywhere you can, really. The sting is pleasurable, and you don’t mind it, not when Aemond has you so wet and aching for this. His hard cock fills you slowly, but it was so pleasurable feeling how it opens you to take it.
“I don’t think this will work” you murmur, and he opens his eye to look at you.
“What…?”
“I cannot… My head hits the ceiling” You say as you have to lean your head to the side to sit properly on his lap. He looks at you, and he chuckles amused. “It is not funny”
“It is!” He argues back, laughing as his hands rest on your thighs, and you slap his chest playfully. “Come here, I’ll manage” he promises.
You sigh amused and you lean forward, pressing your chest to his as he wraps his arms around your waist. You pass your hands to his shoulders and look at his face that is so close to yours.
“Now, it is more comfortable?” 
“Yeah” you say looking at him “But I also feel watched, since I can see the window by our side”
“Gods, woman” he says playfully slapping your ass, which makes you jump “Just ride the dick”
It was your Aemond. You know, because you don’t think you have ever been so comfortable having sex. It was natural, and you didn’t feel judged by him. He was your best friend,
Your hips go up and down on his cock, and your little moans are right in his left ear, delighting him as your pussy stretches as you ride him. Your moans are more like sobs, and his hands go over to your ass to help you lower yourself on his cock.
One of his hands moves to the knot in front of your tie front top, and he grabs one end and once it is open, he moves his mouth to eagerly suck on your tits.
“Aemond” Your whimpers come as he starts nibbling on them, and your moans are more desperate, and your cunt squeezes his cock harder. 
His hands go back to your ass, and he spanks you as you let a little whine in full pleasure. He made sure to stimulate you whenever he can, and he is succeeding.
“You are a needy slut” he murmurs looking up to you, and you nod.
“Yeah, yeah, please…”
“Only for my cock” he adds, and he slaps your ass again, forcing your hip to stay still on his lap “Not Cregan” he adds “Not anyone” 
“Aemond” you whine, winning another spank.
Now his hips start to thrust in you, making you whine and moan again, your body limp as you lay atop of his chest. He always knew you were a pillow princess.
“Who is making you feel this good?” His voice is a grunt, as he moves his hips up and pulls you down to meet his thrusts. 
“You” you moan, and he groans as your pussy feels so warm, and perfect. 
“And who am I?”
You hesitate to answer the philosophical question, unsure what his point was.
“Who am I to you?” He asks again.
“M-My best friend” you answer as he spanks you once again, the slap stings in your ass, moaning as your head rests on his shoulder, moaning right on his ear.
“Yeah, yeah, your best friend is making you cum, hm?” He says smugly, as he moans a bit more.
Again, hearing him moan and whimper on a video is one thing, but in real life…
“Fuck, fuck…” He says as he starts to feel close, his head leaning back in the seat and he turns his head to his left to look at you, your face on his shoulder and your left hand grips on his right shoulder.
“I am going to cum” you say almost submissively, he finds it so hot.
“I know” he says equally without breath.
“You make me feel so good” you say, your breath hits his face as he does the same on yours.
“You do too. So good, so perfect. You are nothing less but” He starts to ramble a bit, and you whimper as you press your forehead on his shoulder, looking down a bit to see how his dick fucks you.
As you cum, moaning loudly, and your forehead almost nuzzling on his shoulder, he feels his balls tightening more and more, slapping your ass a few times more as you whine from it. Your body is almost limp, and you creaming on his cock has to be one of the best feelings ever.
His cum comes hard and intensely, just as Aemond was overall. You wish there wasn’t a condom in between, but it was equally as good. You look at his profile as his mouth opens as he cums, his eyes closing shut as he spends on the condom.
You two fall into silence, still against each other, sweating and tired. The windows were all soggy and you giggle a bit without breath, at how insane this is.
“What are you laughing about?”
“Nothing” you say.
“Little minx” he says smiling as he looks at your face.
“So, are you more clear of mind to study?”
“I am so going to fail that damn exam” he says with a chuckle, as he looks in front of him and moves some wet hairs out of his face. “Going to be thinking of your pussy all test”
You have to chuckle a bit, and you sigh. “Mm. Maybe.” You say with a smirk.
“But… if we go back to my place, and I fuck you properly on my bed, as you read to me all the concepts, I might pass the test”
You sit straight up, and slap his chest playfully. “Fine, but only because you are so stressed” you say mockingly and he nods, as if he was miserable due to it.
“So, so stressed. How lucky I have my best friend to help me with that”
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missmayhemvr · 3 months
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Like halfway through "how Europe underdeveloped Africa" cause I decided I'd read/listen to it after I had a strong base on knowledge on African history and just holy fuck is he right about nearly everything so far.
Having learned about how extensive African trade was prior to the 18th century and how heavily most African kingdoms shifted in the 16th it's very clear that what he points out in the way the slave trade and the need to aquire firearms grew the European economies while near completely emptying out African economies and how the hard shift to European import goods after Europe had grow through the use of African slave labor and monopoly of trade routes is still a largely still at play in the era of neocolonialism.
The way that Walter Rodney not just points out that this is true, but the depth to which he covers a variety of African kingdoms, their economies, and cultural practices puts even some college level courses to shame while also showcasing the exact ways in which some of these stronger or more expansive kingdoms like the Ashanti, oyo, borno, Kongo, and Benin kingdoms had explicitly tried everything to get guns through any other trade and how the Ashanti, merina, Ethiopian, Burundi Benin kingdoms sought our education and scholars to begin industrialization and the systematic way in which Europeans and Americans prevented that is just, well it's damming.
It's a continuing reminder how from the first stage of European expansion and control they had precisely zero good intentions for the peoples of Africa. That Europe saw Africa as nothing more than a way to grow itself, it's institutions and improve its economies by depriving Africa of labor, materials and freedom which is true to this day, most starkly in the Congo but true across the whole region.
But while the book shows the crimes of Europeans without sugar coating, it also doesn't glorify the African leaders and more importantly those that became collaborative with European despitism. It also does not abide by the word games the European powers like to play and goes in depth to the way Europeans had no actual interest in ending slavery, and that while invading the various kingdoms and communities to "end slavery" the created some of the most brutal slave conditions on this side of the globe, not just in Leopolds Congo but in French forced labor camps and British controlled regions, with the Portuguese being particularly up front about it.
Truly a shame that like most other black radicals Rodney was murdered so young. The rarity to which black radicals even get to 40 shows how desperately capitalist and white supremist try to prevent even the slightest push back from black voices. It also makes clear how much we all need to know this stuff, from debois's black reconstruction to nkrumah's neoimperialism these books give a great understanding of the past and the precise way in which we arrived to the current situation.
I pray that with the new scramble for Africa that is unfolding in front of our very faces, the genocides in the Congo, and Sudan, and the way in which these interlock with the genocide of Palestinians, that we all take the time to properly read and reflect so that we may properly organize and fight back for a fully free and sovereign Africa and Palestine and a world free from white supremacy.
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lorcandidlucienwill · 6 months
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The most disturbing things portrayed in ACOTAR
Victim-blaming: Lucien tries to help Feyre and gets physically abused by Tamlin as a result. Feyre then proceeds to call him a dog despite Lucien doing everything he could in a difficult situation. And we're supposed to...support Feyre on this? And Rhysand throws around words like "can never forgive" man stfu you prick.
Sexual Assault: The most disturbing thing is not that Rhysand sexually assaulted Feyre. It's that he's never held accountable for this and never even apologizes at ANY point in the series. There are so many examples but this is the one that is the most disturbing.
Double Standards: We have Tamlin locking Feyre up for her own good being vilified, yet Rhysand is championed for locking Lucien and Nesta up in houses for their own good. Huh? WTF.
War Crimes: What Feyre did to the Spring Court, manipulating the sentries with the whole Ianthe thing and basically getting them killed, then weakening the Spring Court rulership which resulted in all those villagers in the Spring Court getting killed, then laying the Summer Court bare to Hybern as well, are nothing short of war crimes. And...instead of feeling regret, we have the main characters saying "Hybern's actions are their own." Like bitch what? Hybern wouldn't have been able to do shit if it wasn't for you! Have some damn accountability! And the fact that Tamlin and Tarquin are vilified for this never ceases to irk me.
Grooming: Rhysand groomed Feyre. He made excuses for everything he did with trauma, then sent Feyre out to do tasks for him like she's some kind of weapon he can use. WITHOUT giving her proper information, there is no choice. And everything he does is constantly explained away, until eventually Feyre becomes his trophy wife. Rhysand basically assigns Cassian to do the same for Nesta. I'm holding out hope that Elain will be saved from the Night Court.
The pregnancy debacle: the whole thing with the baby having wings and Rhysand withholding information from Feyre is just...disturbing. Idc if you're not telling her FoR hEr OwN gOoD, it is HER life at stake and she deserves to know. They didn't even try to shapeshift her to try and save her life? Like why is everybody seemingly more concerned about the baby than the mother? Disgusting. And why is Nesta vilified for being the only one to tell Feyre? She said it to hurt her, blah blah blah. She also wanted to show Feyre that their situations are similar. That they're BOTH being shit on by the Night Court. And when she's close to a breaking point...Nesta is forced to hike a mountain? That is physical abuse. Also, Rhysand being extremely territorial putting a shield over her and barely letting Feyre go anywhere is beyond weird.
Suicide baiting: What Rhysand did to Tamlin in ACOFAS is nothing short of suicide baiting. And...only Lucien seems to really be that concerned about it? Like...are you telling me I'm supposed to be supporting Rhysand after he basically told a depressed male to kill himself?
Segregation: Separating the Hewn City from Velaris IS segregation, no matter what excuse you try to come up with. You can't claim they're all shitty people, since your bestie Mor comes from the CoN. So, there are good people stuck in the CoN unable to get out of their torment because Rhysand decided that only certain individuals are allowed in Velaris.
Performance Feminism: Establishing laws to help women and not doing shit to enforce them is performance feminism. If he's as powerful as he says, he can 100% stop wing-cutting and r*pe. But, he's a goddamn virtue signaler so he doesn't fucking care. The thing is, SJM could've handled these topics in a much better way and it would've been fine. But she completely fucked shit up here and it's crazy that some people don't see it. Part of me is still waiting for the final book where she says, psych rhysand was the villain the whole time. If so, I'll take everything back.
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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What Do You Have There?
A knife!
Danny plunked the butter knife in its pedestal of importance. The nice thing about having a billionaire vigilante for a... foster is the amount of money Danny was allowed to drop on his hobbies. For example, his extensive collection of souvenirs.
They're not just any old regular souvenirs. No, no, no. That would be so boring! No, these souvenirs, he obtained from the various muggings, knife fights, and various other situations he's been in ever since he was dropped ungraciously into Gotham.
The butter knife? Damian. Precocious, stabby Damian who he had startled into the stab instinct. A point of pride, really. Danny knew Damian was good at fighting! It was practically, in ghost terms, a super enthusiastic hello! Yes, the butter knife would be kept in the well lit part of the wall. Alfred had told him to stay home today to recuperate. He didn't need it, since the wound would heal in an hour or two, but he'd take staying at home any day.
A couple of hours later, well into the afternoon and right before what Danny knew to be their patrol hours, Danny had a visitor.
"Danny."
"Oh, hey, Damian! What's up?" Danny turned around to see Damian hovering awkwardly near the door.
"I am here to... check upon your wound. It is imperative that it gets proper treatment."
Ancients, Damian was exactly like those alley kids. He just ate a thesaurus instead of the drawling accent the alley kids picked up. Which meant Damian endeared himself to Danny pretty quickly. Like a little ghostling.
"Oh, I'm good. See? No blood is leaking out of the wound." Danny held up spotless bandages.
Danny watched Damian step into his haunt- his room- with a pleased hum. Damian inspected the bandages and stepped back with a sharp nod of approval. His eyes flicked to the wall that Danny was rearranging (again) and did a double take at the butter knife in the middle.
"Is that the butter knife I stabbed you with?"
"Why, yes, it is!" Danny beamed.
"Why on earth would you display that?"
"Because you stabbed me with it?"
"That makes absolutely no sense, you simpleton! When someone stabs you, stab them back!"
"That would be mean!"
Damian spluttered. Danny tugged the kid closer to the wall, cheering inwardly as Damian didn't shove him away. It might be because he was exaggeratedly wincing as he moved his "injured arm" but Danny has learned to take a win where he could find them, especially with ghosts. Not that Damian was a ghost, but he sure acted like one.
"Do you want to see my collection?"
"Your collection?"
"Yeah!" Without giving him time to answer, Danny barreled ahead. "So this is the knife you stabbed me with. Which, by the way, was an awesome show of strength and accuracy."
Damian grimaced. Danny continued blithely, secretly memorizing Damian's reactions to laugh at later.
"And this is the knife those guys stabbed me with that one time Cass found me. And this one is a bullet someone shot at me down by the docks. I think I interrupted some kind of meeting?"
Damian's jaw had a slight tick to it that would have been a baffled frown on anyone else.
"And when was this?"
"Oh, like a week ago."
"What? When did you go to the docks?!"
"At night. I couldn't sleep."
"And you went to the docks?! How did you even get there?!"
"Walked," Danny lied, like a lying liar. He floated, obviously, but none of them knew that. "Anyways, this is a law book! Someone threw it at my head!"
"Hey, guys! What're you doing?"
Danny and Damian turned around.
"Richard? Brown? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Bruce wanted me to come back for the weekend," Dick said. Danny knew it was code for "something's going down and we need back up." Man, he still couldn't believe they didn't know he knew they were crime fighting vigilantes.
"Same!" Stephanie said. Danny was glad to see that her wounds from "cartwheeling in the manor" were healed.
"I see. Danny was showing me his collection of... objects people have used as weapons against him."
"What?!"
"Yeah!" Danny beamed, completely innocent. "Come on! I'll show you!"
With that, Danny continued to ramble. He just knew that the way Dick's and Stephanie's smiles strained would give him a good laugh for weeks to come. "And this is the glass bottle a drunk tried to shank me with in Crime Alley, and this is a knife the Red Hood himself threw at me."
Dick interrupted, face stiff. "Hood threw a knife at you?!"
"Yeah, but that was because my kids broke into his safe house and I was trying to get them to stop looting the place. And he didn't know I was a kid too, so he aimed a gun at my head. He shot at me too, but I couldn't go back to get the bullet, or else it would have joined my collection." Danny grabbed a box and shook it, metal rattling inside.
Dick smiled sweetly, Stephanie and Damian inching away from it.
"Oh, wow, I see!"
----
In his apartment, Jason shuddered. He grabbed his guns.
"Something's wrong. I just know it," he muttered to himself.
----
Danny smiled innocently as he described the horrific, near death events he got his souvenirs from.
"This is my bullet box! Man, Gotham has a lot of gun fights. I got shot so many times!" Danny complained, shaking the box like a rattling toy.
"Did you know Danny snuck out to go to the bay?" Damian snitched immediately, like a snitch.
"The Bay?! Danny! You know that's where people dump bodies, right?!" Stephanie poked him in the arm.
"Yeah, but like... I wouldn't die. And besides! I missed my friends!"
"You mean the minions you made in Crime Alley?" Steph asked. Danny pouted, eyeing the way Dick's gaze roved over his souvenirs and paling the more he realized how often Danny "got hurt."
Damian bumped a shoulder against Dick's arm. Danny returned to the conversation.
"If anything, I'm their minion." He said, remembering the times the Alley kids sent him on food runs.
"Fear Danny, the overlord of street rats."
Danny snorted. And- "Oh! Yeah, there was like a weird owl looking guy? And then they stabbed me with a finger and I kept it because woah, cool talon looking thing, right? And then they threw a bunch of those tiny knives at me? And then they just kind of vanished? Gotham is so weird."
And now, with all of them pale and stressed out of their minds, Danny swung a devastating blow called guilt trip.
"And that's the batarangs!" Three heads swung over to the line of batarangs. "Those vigilantes kept throwing them at me! One of them even hit me in the arm. Those things are sharp, man."
"Uh. Which ones?" Stephanie asked.
"Hm?" Danny hummed obliviously.
"Do you know which vigilantes?"
"Oh, it was like... the purple one. And the sword one? And like the one with the yellow insignia in the middle. And... all of them, I think? Except for signal. That guy's cool."
Stephanie and Damian had matching veiled looks of guilt. Dick shot them a sharp look. Danny decided to deal the last bit of damage to Dick.
"I'm glad you guys are way less stabby than the general Gotham public though, butter knife incident aside. At least I don't have to worry about you guys getting into danger, right? If you guys got hurt like my family did... I don't know..."
Danny smiled-squinted at them, channeling Cujo at his cutest and saddest: when he doesn't get to eat off of Danny's plate. So, pretty sad and pathetic.
"Uh, yeah." Dick said, guilt splayed all over his face. "Alfred said dinner was almost ready."
"Yes," Damian cleared his throat, looking away. "We shall partake in Pennyworth's hard work."
"Ahaha!" Stephanie laughed, nervously. "Welp, let's go bother Tim!"
Falling into step behind them, Danny grinned.
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hotchgirlsummer · 1 year
Text
mess of mine ⤷ aaron hotchner x reader
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summary ⤷ aaron hotchner never expected to find an adorable woman when he was out asking around about their unsub. turns out she's all he needs to brighten up his life.
pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader
warnings ⤷ unsub takedown. unsub has a knife. mentions of typical cm violence, killing, and general disdain towards women. rossi calls the reader a bimbo lmao
word count ⤷ 6k words
a/n ⤷ bear with me as i am obsessed with the idea of a bimbo being with aaron in the most adorable way possible 😭 and i dont meant bimbo in a derogatory way! but just someone who isn't book smart ig? the reader in this fic i imagine to be so good with fashion in styling so yeah... i know i didnt do justice with the whole narrowing down the search for an unsub or the way they handled the take down but i have to admit this is just self-indulgent as i want be aaron's brainless girl ❤️ anyway, feedback is appreciated for this! might turn this into a mini series so yeah. happy holidays!
“Excuse me, may I speak with you?” A deep voice made Y/N turn around from where she was organizing some of the new clothes that had just arrived. Smiling at the dark-haired man who stood in a crisp suit, she looked at his clothes and pouted, “I’m sorry but we don’t usually sell those suits, we do have some pastel ones in any case you’re interested in those instead.”
Hotch followed the direction in which she pointed and was surprised to see a couple of suits that are, to her credit roughly in his size, but instead of the neutral tones he’d go for they were in pastel pink and purple. Shaking his head and biting down a small smile he pulled for his badge and presented it to her, “Thank you for the recommendations but I’m afraid that’s not what I’m here for.”
Upon looking at the badge her eyes failed to focus on how he was part of the FBI and instead chuckled when she noticed his name, “Heh, Ay-ay-ron.” Her mispronunciation of his name caused his eyebrows to furrow as he gently corrected her, “Aaron, ma’am. Not Ay-ay-ron, I’m afraid.” Her little bubble popped when she looked into his eyes, mesmerized by the deep brown orbs she shook her head and clarified, “Oh I knew that, that was just from the Peele & Key skit. Never knew anyone named Aaron so couldn’t tease anyone by it.”
“Right,” came Hotch’s sharp reply, worried that their possible lead might be a bust due to the witness presenting signs of being dopey due to addiction. “Is there a back office where I can speak to you in private?” She pointed towards a door that had a curtain in front of it, “We can go there, we never let anyone in there because that’s where our safe and transaction lists are!”
As pleased as he was to hear that they keep a record of their transactions, he was becoming more and more alarmed at how easily she was giving away confidential business information. Inside the small room that he concluded acted as their little breakroom with the microwave placed on top of a small fridge, it also served as their surveillance room and like she said, a safe was placed there. He motioned for her to grab a seat and pulled the folder he brought with him. “The reason I’m here today is we were hoping you could point us in the direction of one of your customers.”
Looking up from the files, he was surprised to see that she was looking at him with a giddy smile, “What do you wanna know, Aaron?” Her bliss-like innocence made him think about if he was really going to taint her by telling her the horrors that brought them to this store; but it was quickly shrugged off when he remembered that there was a possibility that she was on some sort of drugs. “There has been a man who may have purchased clothes through your boutique as they have been using the clothes they purchased to redress their victims.”
“How’d you know they bought it from here?” She wondered out loud to which he replied, “We found one of the boutique’s plastic bags near the crime scene. Would you happen to have a log of your transactions?” Deciding against showing her the photos, he simply joined his hands atop the folder and looked at her. She nodded and turned to the computer table where there was a laptop, she placed it in the middle of the table, “Phoebe has me recording customers’ names, what they bought, and how they paid. Just ‘cause last time I had a mom angry with me just because their child bought a top that, like, showed too much cleavage.”
Taking it as she had given him permission to browse through their transactions, Hotch nodded, “And Phoebe is your manager, I’m assuming?” She nodded with a cute smile on her face, “She’s so nice. Real patient with me when I was training. Even taught me tricks on how I can close faster.”
As much as he wanted to direct his full attention to her, he was only able to focus on some parts of it as he was more focused on finding the masterlist of their transactions. Just as he clicked on the file he was greeted with the pop up that was asking him for a password which caused him to look up at her, “It’s asking for a password, would you happen to know what it is?”
For all the times he witnessed someone shake their head, he hated how adorable she looked when she did so with a little pout which made her glossed up lips even more tempting, “Only Phoebe knows it. She changes the password every month and I can’t keep up!” She leaned forward with her manicured nails resting on the top of the table, “One time she mixed in some capital and small letters with some numbers. It was very confusing.”
“I can see why that would be,” Aaron sympathized with her as a small smile broke out of his lipa; normally he’d be irritated with this kind of behavior but there is something endearing about her that made him think otherwise, “Would you mind if I have our technical analyst take a look into it?”
“But how? I don’t know the password and Phoebe didn’t leave a note anywhere!” She was clearly distressed about the whole thing, Hotch could also see the faint traces of frustration at not being able to help further in the investigation. His hand moved as if they had a mind of their own and held onto her smaller one, brushing the back of hers gently, “Well our analyst is like a magician, okay, sweetheart?”
Hypnotized by his caramel eyes and the comfort his touch radiated, she nodded and visibly relaxed, “In the meantime, there is something else you can help me out with, if you’re up for it.” Taking her nod as her consent he then untangled his hand with hers, he tried not to let her disappointed whimper affect him, as he opened the case file and landed on the page where they have already a profile of the unsub, “The man we’re looking for goes here often, he spends a long time looking through the clothes because he’s always looking for a particular detail or design. Whenever you speak to him, he appears nervous or shy, but he has enough charm to have you fooled that he won’t harm you at all.”
Hotch was silently cursing at himself for allowing himself to be distracted at the sight of her glossed up lips pursed as she thought hard about a customer who fit his description; looking at him in an exasperated manner as she pouts at him, clearly frustrated, “I’m sorry, but I can’t focus much right now. I could not even help you out with the password.” He grabbed for her hand once more and stroked the back of it gently, “Don’t be too harsh on yourself, pretty girl,” Instead of expressing surprise like he anticipated she would upon being called the nickname, she seems to be pleased and melts because of it, “Why don’t you close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Following his instructions, she nodded as she closed her eyes and let out a sigh while her hand clutched into his tightly, “Now, go back to a day where he comes in. What do you usually do when the boutique isn’t busy?”
“I like to rearrange the clothes — sometimes I group them by type of clothing, then by color.”
Pleased that she was now calmer which effectively made her able to recall when and how she interacted with the unsub, “That’s good. Now, he walks into the boutique. He sees you rearranging the racks. Does he talk to you right away or go browning?”
“I hear shuffling of the hangers first but I don’t turn yet because I was trying to get rid of the lint in one of the clothes,” She smiles, pleased that she’s being a bit more helpful right now. “Good,” His voice wasn’t the only one soothing her as he was rubbing her knuckles too, “What did he do that drew your attention away from what you were doing?”
“He threw some clothes on the floor, he wasn’t happy with the choices that we had that day.”
“What else did he say or do?” Hotch could see that she was working hard to think back to it, as if the frown lines that were appearing on her forehead wasn’t a clear indicator of it, “He yelled, saying what happened to this store and why did it suddenly turn into a dump. Just because we didn’t have any more available items of what he usually likes.”
She was pouting once more which made his heart flutter once more but the rational part of his brain took over as he inquired, “Were you able to get a good look at his face? Can you make out what he looks like?”
Pursing her lips as she thought about it, she looked at their hands that were still holding onto each other as she spoke, “I did see him, he picked up the clothes and apologies. Said that he just had a bad day at work.”
Hotch smiled and continued to guide her through this interview by saying, “That’s good, now do you see what he looks like, sweetheart?”
“He had very little hair, you know, like a buzz cut. Couldn’t pull it off though,” She giggled as she remembered how uneven the cut looked, “He also had this scar by his cheek,” Using her hand that wasn’t held down, she trailed the tip of her finger to her cheek from her cheekbone down near the side of her lips, “He was taller than me too!” Her excitement of remembering something completely died down when she took a good look at the unit chief in front of her — which worried him slightly but he wouldn’t admit that.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked to which she answered right away, “He was taller than me, but he’s not as tall as you. How tall are you, by the way?”
“6’2. Is there anything else you remember from when you guys spoke?” Aaron felt flustered once more upon her taking interest in him but was able to school his features to not give that surprise away. But his resolve was once again almost crumbling down as she tapped her fingers against his knuckles as she thought hard about her interactions with the unsub, “He returned an item once. Said that when he came up he only noticed a stain there. Phoebe told me to not accept items that have stains or any dirt in them, we always throw the clothes in the wash, you know? But there was this whole queue behind him that I just accepted the return even though I wasn’t supposed to!”
Her whine just added to the long list of what made her even more precious in his opinion as he nodded, “Do you remember where you placed this clothing? Would you mind if I took a look at it?”
Nodding she stood up and led him out of the little break room that they were in walked through the shop’s main floor — and what took the tenured profiler aback was how she did not let go of his hand, which definitely caught sight of Rossi wo was in the middle of a phone call with Garcia when he shot a smirk at the two. When a door opened to reveal another room with a washing and drying machine, and a small sink. “This is where we clean and prepare the clothes before we display them outside.”
Removing her hand from where it was engulfed in his larger one, she rifled and was looking through the four laundry baskets that were in there. Spotting the blouse he returned, she was about to pick out the blouse when he stopped her gently by pulling her arm, “Let me go through them, please.”
She nods and steps aside as she watches him put on some gloves before rifling through the baskets, “Why wouldn’t you let me help you look for it?” Hotch paused briefly and looked back at her, seeing how there was a somber look on her face as she wondered that. “You mentioned that there was dirt on the item he returned, yes?”
Nodding her head she hummed her agreement while he pointed at her hands, “Well I don’t want your pretty hands catching onto the dirt, not when your nails look good.” Complimenting a girl felt foreign to him as he hadn’t done so in a while, but it didn’t feel creepy at all. He felt vindicated when she smiled brightly and displayed one of her hands, “Thanks for noticing! I just got the shellac color done yesterday. I did a purple color last month and decided to go back to my favorite color, pink!”
Her giggles helped ease the dread he felt at the pit of his stomach upon finding the blouse that was definitely returned by their unsub. The stain she was referring to looked like blood and soil. Reaching for his back pocket, he reached for the evidence bag he carried with him in case they were to find any pieces of evidence that were hopefully going to be useful in their investigation.
“This is the blouse he returned, yeah?” He asked her, showing the stained article now in the bag. She nodded her head, “That is the one. Do you want me to clean it off before you go?”
Smiling at her well-meaning attitude he shook his head before disposing of the gloves he wore in the trash bin that was nearby. “It’s all good, sweetheart. Don’t worry your pretty little self about it, alright? I’m gonna have to take this as evidence, can you let Phoebe know that?”
She nodded her head with a smile, “I’m sure she’ll understand. She’s nice like that, she won’t take it off my paycheck.” Gleaming at his earlier compliment she then smiled and opened the door for them to exit the tiny room. “Will I see you again?” Her voice sounded small and a bit disappointed, but he tried not to show he was feeling the same as he reached for his coat pocket and handed her his calling card. “Under these circumstances? I hope not.”
Tilting her head as she accepted the card and wondered what he meant, she had a small pout that looked very much like she wanted to be kissed. Instead, he clarified for her, “What I meant is you should call me the next time you see the buzzcut man, okay?”
“Oh! I can do that!” She cheere happily before continuing on, “Gonna call you and let you know that he’s trouble and he’s here!”
“Maybe don’t say that directly,” He warned her as he rubbed her forearms reassuringly, “Instead use a code. When you call me, tell me how you’d love for the food delivery to come right now. That way, he won't think that the FBI will be looking for him.”
Gasping at how well-thought his plan was, she giggled and jokingly gave him a pat on his shoulder as if to congratulate him, “That was so good, Aaron! You’re smart and handsome!” He wanted to prolong their conversation for as long as they could but of course the odds were against them when Rossi walked over to where they were standing over as he informed his former mentee, “Sorry to interrupt, but we got a hit and they need us back at the precinct.”
Nodding his head back to his mentor, Hotch then shot one last smile to her before offering his hand for a shake. “Thanks so much for your help, sweetheart. Keep in touch, okay?” Shaking his hand with a bright smile she nodded, “I like it when you call me sweetheart, but that’s not really my name, you know? It’s Y/N.”
“See you around then, Y/N.”
With that, the two sadly let go of the other’s hand and went back to normal, back to the reality that they had to work. As he exited the store and went ahead to maneuver the car back to the precinct, he could feel Rossi’s teasing grin at him. “What?”
“Sweetheart, huh?” Came Rossi’s reply which led Aaron to be defensive about it, “She was a bit unsettled at first. I was just trying to calm her down.” The Italian man just raised his eyebrows, getting even more suspicious if anything, “Sure, that’s all that was. Wasn’t like you found her attractive at all.”
“She is attractive, but I could also see that she was way too delicate for the horrors that we usually face,” Hoping that was enough to persuade the senior profiler that there wasn't any budding affection on his part. “All I’m saying is she is a gorgeous woman, but even you have to admit that she doesn’t seem all too smart though. She’s what would be commonly referred to as a bimbo.”
Thankful that they had arrived back in the police station so he would not have to hear what sounded like judgemental comments, Aaron slammed the driver’s door a little too hard before defending her, “How is that bad? Save your unhelpful judgements, Dave.”
Back at the station, once he had given the blouse to the precinct’s forensic team to be analyzed, the rest of the team had been brainstorming on their possible suspect pool. It didn’t take less than an hour for forensics to get back to them with a hit.
“Garcia, will you please give us the rundown on John Wesley please?” Spencer requested as soon as he phoned their technical analyst. “Born and raised in Fairfax, Virginia. Well, really raised by a single mom who did not register who the father to her baby was. He has a record for trespassing and peeping when he was only twelve, yikes. Said that since his mom had to work two, almost three jobs to support herself and him he had to be left alone in their apartment complex where sometimes peeped into the unit next door, turns out the not so good example neighbor would bring home prostitutes and saw how rough he was with them.”
“That would explain why there were bruises on the women, he must have thought that beating them up is some sick way of showing affection,” JJ deduced as Penelope unsealed court records and found out more about John. “Seems like John saw like a counselor or a therapist and he admitted that he liked the idea of women being dolled up after a rough session.”
“Seeing the prostitutes go about the rest of their day after a paid session must have left that impression on him. And he didn’t really fully comprehend how that set up works,” Reid thought out loud, to which everyone agreed.
“What’s his education, personal and work life like Garcia?” Rossi wondered.
“Well education, not so much finished high school but without any recognition you know? Took a couple of classes at the local community college but didn’t really graduate from it. Personal, still legally single by the looks of it. Work life? Oh, would you look at that.”
“Why? What is it, Garcia?” Derek was the one who snapped Garcia out of her shock. “Well it turns out he works at one of those mannequin factories. And it seems like he’s been getting reprimanded by his superior because he liked putting marks on them that looked similar to bruises. And for a while it seems like he also took some home or if not, he brought some clothes to work to dress them up.”
“That’s more than enough, did he go to work today Garcia?” Blake wondered. “He should be there, his boss had him scheduled for today until 6pm,” They all looked at the time and saw that it was 30 minutes before his shift ended. “He clocked in but has yet to clock out by the looks of it.”
“Garcia, we’re gonna need his work and home address, please.” Rossi said to which the peppy analyst declared “Done and done, stay safe crime fighters.”
“Blake, you and Reid head over to his workplace to see if he’s still there; if not, gather as much information as you can about him and how he treats the mannequins, maybe that will give us a clear COD. Morgan, you and JJ head over to the house, see if he’s holding another woman there. As soon as you see him, apprehend him. Dave and I will stay here in case there’s any further development, call for backup if needed.”
With that, the team dispersed into their assignments; Rossi slid over a cup of coffee Hotch’s way who was now engrossed as he was reading over Wesley’s file. “You know I didn’t mean anything bad with what I said earlier, right?”
That caught his attention as he looked up from the tablet and squinted a little, “Pardon me?” Rossi only chuckled as he sat down across from the unit chief before clarifying, “I knew what you meant when you mentioned that your sweetheart,” Hotch rolled his eyes at that but didn’t really feel any distaste towards him or his words, “Was a little softer than the ones we usually interact with. But I do see why you would be attracted to her — she’s kind, thoughtful, and can literally and figuratively bring color to your life.” Aaron knew that he was pertaining to how colorful her entire outfit and personality was and had to bite down a chuckle as he instead redirected his focus to the tablet, “You got all that from a few seconds of interaction?”
“What can I say? I’m a good profiler,” Now the two laughed at his little joke but did know that it was indeed the truth. “She’d be good for you, Aaron. She lives nearby so there’s no reason for you to not pursue her.”
“How about the fact that she’s younger than I am?” He remarked a bit morosefully to which he was surprised that Rossi only scoffed at, “So? It’s not like she’s underage or anything. She’d be providing you with her consent so there’s really no reason for you to feel guilt or anything like that.”
Opening his mouth to offer another rebuttal he paused mid-thought when he was suddenly hit with a realization, “Wait, why does it seem like you’re certain of her age?”
This time Rossi showed him Y/N’s file that Garcia had sent over to his phone, “Had Penelope do a background check on the employees of the boutique earlier. And let’s just say she has a squeaky clean record and is definitely of age.”
Aaron could not believe how hard Dave was so persistent with the whole thing; but when it all boils down, he’d rather have a supportive friend than one who discourages him to go out there and date. “Well I’ll leave it up to fate if I should make a move; besides I don’t even have her phone number.”
Just as he was about to be yelled at by his mentor, Hotch’s phone rang and on cue, he answered it despite the number unlisted to his contacts he answered it and greeted them by saying, “Hotchner.”
“And I got that good girl faith in that tight little skirt,” Just as she was about to sing the next line, the bell above the door rang, signaling that someone just walked in, “Welcome to Beauty Boutique! Can I help you with anything?” The cheerfulness in her voice died down upon seeing who the man was. She gulped down her nervousness, hoping that the buzzcut man would notice her feelings of unease.
“Just browsing through; thanks though, sweetheart.” An invisible shiver went down her spine; I liked it more when Aaron called me that. Heh, Ay-ay-ron, she thought to herself. But that also reminded her that she was to call him if he ever showed up. Dialing his number on her phone, she bit the skin of her fingertips anxiously as she waited for him to answer.
“Hotchner,” Came his gruff greeting. She giggled for a little before plastering a serious face on before finding the words, “Hi, I’d like the food to be delivered, please.”
On the other end of the phone, Aaron could feel the dread in him knowing that Y/N was within arm’s reach of a dangerous killer. “Alright, we’re coming Y/N. Stay calm and don’t let him see panic in your face okay, sweetheart?” He looked at Dave and nodded towards the precinct’s doors; the man nodded and headed out to let the cops and the rest of the team know that they knew about Wesley’s whereabouts.
She nodded her head against the phone as she secretly watched the unsub’s movements — who was currently busying himself in the dress section of their store — before asking, “How long until the food gets here? I don’t want it to be too cold, you know?”
Chuckling against the phone as he watched how Dave drove with urgency he assured here, “We’ll be there in less than ten minutes. Y/N, do you remember if the back door is unlocked?”
“The back door? It’s unlocked but a bit heavy for me to open, it’ll be better if you come up to the store’s front for the food,” She answered as she recalled how much she hated throwing out the garbage during closing time as it was like lifting a whole tree when she opened the back door.
“Okay good, another thing — if you can try to keep the unsub, or the buzzcut guy, within the store that’d be great. If not, make sure to keep note of which direction he goes into, alright?”
“I’m not sure I can try your spicy specialty. But I’ll give it a try. How long til it gets here again?” She asked nervously, she had eye contact with the unsub and she didn’t like the smile he shot her.
“Almost there, sweetheart. I promise,” Aaron said as he hung up the phone call when he noticed that they were a block away and had to park their vehicle. As they stepped outside he gave instructions to uniform officers to take the back entrance and that it could be a little heavy when they try to open it but it is unlocked for their convenience. “I take it back, Aaron,” Dave spoke as he and Aaron cautiously made their way to the front entrance, “Your girl’s a lot smarter than I gave her credit for.”
“Not my girl,” He said, but Hotch did admit that it sounded nice to refer to her as that.
✪ “Got some food delivered here?” Came the unsub’s question as he brought some items to the till. She nodded as she began ringing up the items. “I did, it’s lunchtime,” She tried to convince him and by the looks of it, he bought it, “Did you enjoy your shopping experience today?”
“Sure did,” he pointed to the clothes, “Found great deals on these great clothes,” Shooting her a wink that didn’t do anything to make her feel attracted to him he tried flirting by saying, “Even had a pretty view when I did so.”
An awkward laugh was all that she could give him before placing all of the items in a bag before telling him, “Your total for today is $29.54, how would you like to pay for that today?”
Reaching for his back pocket, he grabbed for his wallet before answering, “On cash, beautiful.” She just smiled as he handed her a fifty dollar bill. Opening her till she had her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he counted his change but was stopped when he held her hands. Her audible gasp just caused him to smirk even more as he said, “Say, why don’t you keep the change, and in return you can just let me take you out on a date hm? That sounds like a fair trade to me.”
“I can’t do that, my boyfriend wouldn’t like it if I went with someone who wasn’t him,” Came her reply. The man rolled his eyes as he held a tighter grip on her hand causing her to yelp out in pain, “Cut the bullshit. I’ve been here a lot of time to know for a fact that a dumb bimbo like you doesn’t have a boyfriend. So when I say we’re going out, we’re going out.”
“James Wesley, this is the FBI; let go of the woman and put your hands up in the air.”
Tears pooled in her eyes upon seeing that Aaron was in the store; this time he ditched his suit jacket and instead had a bulletproof vest. Instead of following his orders he held onto her wrist more and jumped over the counter, pressing his front to her back as he grabbed a blade from his back pocket and pressed it against her throat, “One step close and I’ll slit her throat.”
Unable to hold back her whimpers, Y/N was now crying as she felt the cold touch of the blade against her skin. “Aaron, please,” Her broken cry broke Hotch’s heart, but he knew he had to be smart; she was at the hands of a sadistic man who took pleasure in beating the crap out of women.
From behind her, James scoffed, “Don’t tell me he is the boyfriend you were lying about. Didn’t think you could land a man like him.”
“You don’t have to hurt her, James. She didn’t hurt you, she didn’t give you the false promise of love, right?” Dave negotiated, on the drive over they were given new intel about how he was hurt by his fiancee when she left him for someone who was abusive to her. Thinking that he had to inflict pain on women in order for them to love and stay loyal to him — that coupled with his distorted view of the prostitutes view rough sex — set him on the course of killing and beating up women then dressing them up, much like how the prostitutes went about their night.
“Hurting women doesn’t make them stay, James. Treating and treasuring them right is how you get them to stay,” Hotch added, which didn’t sit well with the unsub as he shook his head, his hold on Y/N getting loose as he didn’t press on the knife to her anymore. “Yeah? Is that how you get this skank?”
“Don’t you dare call her that,” Came Hotch’s cold reply but he was quick to think of a way to get Y/N out of the situation safely. He made eye contact with the uniformed officer that snuck around the back — which for some reason John didn’t notice, but they weren’t complaining about that — he looked at John's shoulder then to the officer's gun. “Shoot in the shoulder?” Mouthed Officer Harrison, to which Hotch mouthed back “Wait.”
“If anything I’m surprised you’re able to hold onto a woman,” Hotch goaded him, but not too much John would take it out on Y/N. “By the looks of it you can’t even hold onto her right.”
As John looked to see his hands he shouted, “Now!” As planned, Officer Harrison shot John’s shoulder while Rossi shot his elbow, causing him to release his grip on Y/N — who immediately ran into Aaron. Face wet with tears buried in his chest as Aaron pressed loving rubs on her back.
“I was so scared, Aaron. Tried not to panic like you said but he had a knife,” She recalled with so much fear in her voice. He soothed her by rubbing her back keeping her eyes focused on him and not on John who was now being assisted by Rossi and Harrison out of the store and into the cop car. “I know, sweetheart. And you did so well, I saw you talking to him and trying to not let him get away. Wasn’t your fault okay?”
Wiping her tears with his thumbs he tried to console her, “He’s a bad guy, no matter how good you treated him he would have been mean to you. But you best believe I would not let that happen.” She felt something warm — whether it were his hands that settled on her cheeks once he was done wiping away her tears or the way he didn’t stop until the unsub was away from her — but she realized she loved how safe and secure he made her feel was what made her feel warm.
“Thank you for saving me, Aaron. You’re the best, you know?” Now it was his turn to be flustered as he chuckled and shook his head, “Was just doing my job, sweetheart. Couldn’t let you have any more dirt in your clothes and hands.”
That elicited a giggle from her, and he was happy to see that she wasn’t now in tears and distressed by earlier events. “If you need someone to talk to, after how bad today was, you can always give me a call, okay?”
“And if I just wanted to talk to you? Or maybe go out with you for a date?” It was adorable to see her ask him, looking smaller than him and so nervous. He nodded and rubbed her cheeks lovingly, “I’d love that, sweetheart. I’d kiss your cute nose but unfortunately I’m still on the job.”
Nodding in understanding, she then smiled, “Don’t be a stranger and shoot me a text okay? Oh! That reminds me,” She stepped out within his reach and grabbed the pastel pink suit that she pointed to earlier and gave it to him, “Please take this! One of the things I’d love to see is you in this. I just know you can pull it off!”
Looking down at the clothing article, he shook his head as he laughed a little at how insistent she was being, “Sweetheart, I like how you have faith in me but I don’t think this will suit me really well.”
“Please? For me, Aaron?” She looked up at him with a pout and knew right then and there Hotch had found his kryptonite. So, with a sigh, he nodded and smiled, “Alright, but you’re gonna have to give me a hand on how to dress up with this suit okay?” Smiling so wide she gave him a hug and hummed, “Yes, yes! Thank you, Aaron!”
“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re needed back,” Rossi came and with that the two ended their hug. Y/N smiled at him as she held up her hand and grabbed a scarf and gave it to Rossi. “A little something as a thank you for saving me, Mr.”
“Rossi,” He provided, “Y/N, right?” Rossi offered his hand for a shake to which she accepted and confirmed that it was indeed her name. “Good eye, this will go well with this jacket.”
“Italian suit, right? That scarf’s material shouldn’t rub on it the wrong way.” At her input Rossi smiled at her then at Aaron, “Good catch,” Before bidding adieu to her, “See you around, Y/N.”
She looked at Aaron as if to ask what he meant with his remark but was instead interrupted when Aaron smiled at her and lifted her hand up and kissed her knuckles, “I’ll call you later, sweetheart. Take care for now.”
Feeling bold, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his nose, “Thank you, Aaron, for keeping me safe. I’ll be thinking of you.” And he knew that as he walked out of the store and rode back with Rossi to the station, his thoughts would be clouded by her as well. And for the first time in a while, he was glad to have this kind of distraction. She might have been a bit of a mess, but from here on out she was his mess.
part two: i’m a mess but
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vivwritesfics · 6 months
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No Need To Ask
Chapter Seven - No Weaknesses
The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.
But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.
1.7K words
Because of how I've made the character of Carlos' mother, I didn't want to use her real name. That is why she is called Mrs Sainz (or Señora sainz)
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Oscar had his own room in Carlos’ house. He had yet to actually sleep in it though.
So far, Oscar had just used his room to store his clothes and to get changed. The bed was perfectly made from where he hadn’t yet slept in it. When Y/N found this out, she assumed it was unintentional, that he just fell asleep while he was watching over her.
And that was partially true. Oscar did fall asleep while he was protecting her. But he allowed himself to. he let himself fall asleep while he was in Y/N’s room. Carlos had brought it up to her over a game of chess, he knew, and had told her that he had men stationed outside of her room.
Well, that didn’t help to comfort her. It didn’t comfort Oscar, either. On the rare instance that he left Y/N’s room (which would only be for twenty minutes, at most) he made sure to level Carlos’ men with a piercing stare.
After two weeks of being in Carlos’ house, a week after Lando had flown home, Y/N had an unexpected visitor at her bedroom door. She’d knocked before with Carlos and Oscar had answered the door then. The stare she gave him was more terrifying that anything Carlos had done to him, and Oscar found himself stepping to the side. “Good choice,” Carlos mumbled as he walked past him.
This time, Carlos’ mother came alone. Oscar didn’t know how to address the woman, so he just stepped to the side and let her into the room.
“Who is it, Osc?” Asked Y/N when she didn’t hear him say anything. Sat at her vanity, she had a book open in front of her. It was one she had brought with her from the UK.
Mrs Sainz cleared her throat. That was how she was known in the family, just as those who worked for the Norris family called Y/N’s mother Mrs Norris when she was alive. Y/N looked up at the mirror. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t Carlos’ mother.
Suddenly Y/N was on her feet. “Mrs Sainz!” She said, in way of greeting. Mrs Sainz didn’t smile when she looked at her.
“We have work to do before the wedding,” she said, hands clasped together. “You are spending the day with me.”
Y/N nodded her head. “Come,” said Mrs Sainz. She turned on her heel and strode out of the room, leaving Y/N to follow her. Oscar went to follow as well, but Mrs Sainz gave him a look and he stopped. She kept staring at him until he retreated back into the room.
“He follows you around like a dog,” Mrs Sainz spat as she led Y/N through the house.
“He means well,” Y/N replied. “He’s just doing as Lando asked him.”
Mrs Sainz made a noise of disapproval as she went down the stairs. She didn’t say more on the matter as she took Y/N into a room that could only have been called the parlour.
The chairs in the parlour were covered with white dresses. Wedding dresses, Y/N realised as she looked at all of them. In the middle of the room was a seamstress, setting up her things. "Today we are going to find you a dress," said Mrs Sainz.
"But I already have a dress," Y/N said, somewhat timidly.
Mrs Sainz made that same disapproving noise. "Not good enough for my son," she muttered and walked over to the first dress, picking it up.
Y/N had never been to a Mafia wedding before. They'd happened in her lifetime, sure, but she'd never been. She didn't know what to expect on her own wedding day. She knew she'd have very little control over the wedding, but she thought she'd be able to control the dress.
Suddenly Y/N began welling up. She sank to her knees and let the tears flow freely. "Enough of that, stupid girl," said Mrs Sainz as Y/N continued to cry.
But she couldn't help it. She couldn't stop the sobs as she furiously wiped under her eyes. Her breathing was becoming difficult as she pulled her legs closer to her chest.
Arms grabbed her own and Y/N was forcibly pulled to her feet. "Oh, estúpida y estúpida!" Shouted Mrs Sainz. Her hand was raised and, for a moment, Y/N thought she was going to slap her. "You are going to be a part of the Sainz family! You can't be seen showing weakness!"
Y/N wiped away her tears and tried to suppress her sobs. Mrs Sainz grabbed a hold of the nearest dress and passed it to Y/N. She gave her no choice in the matter, making her try on every single one.
None of the dresses were close to the dress Y/N had chosen for herself.  When Y/N tried to voice her opinions on the dresses, Mrs Sainz would quickly shut her up and turn her attention to the seamstress. The women spoke in Spanish, leaving Y/N standing there without an inkling as to what was going on.
Mrs Sainz had her wearing every single dress. If she gave her opinions, they were in Spanish. The seamstress worked on every dress she tried on, often times poking Y/N with the sharp needles. If she expressed pain, Mrs Sainz would sharply shut her up. Whicher dress was her favourite, Y/N wasn’t sure. After Y/N had tried them all on Mrs Sainz pushed her out of the room, shutting the door in her face so that she could discuss things with the seamstress alone.
As soon as Y/N was out of the room, she leaned against the nearest wall and let out a breath. She’d been poked so many times with a needle she didn’t know how she wasn’t bleeding. She threw her head back and shut her eyes, savouring the moment alone.
Y/N pushed away from the wall and walked down the corridor. She just wanted to get back to her room and sleep until tomorrow.  
As Y/N walked past the doors that led out to the patio, Y/N stopped. She couldn’t help but watch him as he swam in the pool, wet hair pushed back on his head and his tanned skin glistening. She didn’t know what it was, but something compelled her to walk forwards, to push open the doors and step out onto the patio.
Carlos stopped swimming. He rested his arms on the pool ledge. Neither of them said anything, Y/N waiting for Carlos to say something and Y/N not sure what to say.
As soon as she stepped outside, Y/N went to turn back around. “Wait,” came Carlos’ voice, stopping her in her tracks. “Stay.”
Y/N did just that. She pulled off her shoes and socks and sat on the pool ledge, her feet in the water. Still, they didn’t say anything. Y/N watched him as he went back to swimming, doing laps up and down the pool.
Was this what the rest of her life was going to be? Sitting there quietly while Carlos did what he wanted? That wasn’t the life her mother lived and it wasn’t the life Mrs Sainz lived.
Y/N played with the skin around her nails, in her peripheral vision she watched as Carlos pulled himself out of the pool, muscles visible to whoever might have been watching (aka, Y/N). She kept her legs in the water as Carlos walked behind her and grabbed his towel.
“Can I ask you something?” Asked Y/N in a moment of bravery.
“Of course,” said Carlos as he sat and used the towel to dry his hair.
Y/N sucked in a breath. Brave. She needed to be brave. “I… What’s expected of me?” She asked. “When I am your wife, what is expected of me?”
Carlos looked across the patio at her. His towel was around his shoulders, and he ran his fingers through his hair. Carlos had taken time to think about it since his father told him of the marriage, since it was purely to benefit the families. There were a few things expected of every mafia wife. She was expected to stand by her husband’s side and give him children. Whether this went to the point that it did with Y/N’s mother, where she was as in charge as her husband was, that was yet to be seen.
“Once we are married, we are to have children,” he answered.
“Oh,” Y/N mumbled before he could continue with his listed. She hadn’t thought about this, hadn’t thought about having his children. Maybe Y/N didn’t realise that this was a part of a mafia wife’s life. She had never had sex before, and the thought was giving her enough anxiety already. But, you throw children into the mix? That was a whole different kettle of fish.
Carlos continued. “You will no longer be loyal to the Norris family and your loyalties will lie with me.”
Y/N knew this bit. She had been mentally preparing herself for this, for when she was to say goodbye to the family she had grown up in. “Will I get to visit my brother?” She asked and kicked her legs slowly, moving them through the water.
He took his time answering this one. With the declining health of Norris, it was something he and his father had been discussing. As Carlos had said at the dinner in the Norris, he was happy for Y/N to go home for her father’s funeral for a week or two. Of course, he was going to have to send one of two of his men with her, to make sure she stayed safe and didn’t… slip up.
“Yes,” Carlos answered. “You will join me on… business trips. Your brother will be attending this business trips and that is when you will see him,” he said.
“What about my father?”
“We will discuss this when the time comes,” he said.
“But-”
“When the time comes,” Carlos said and stood from his seat. With his towel still around his shoulders he walked into his house, pulling the doors shut behind him.
Y/N stayed in the pool, hot sun beating down on her. But Y/N didn’t care. She looked down in the water, at the colourful tiles at the bottom of the pool. If she wasn’t already terrified for the life of a Mafia wife, she was now.
Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @ashy-kit @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane
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anjelicawrites · 7 months
Text
Fun to be had
Paring: Michael Gavey x reader
Synopsis: you’re studying alone on a Friday night, and decide to, finally, face the weird guy following you. Fun ensues.
Warnings: dry humping in public (in a library), almost getting caught, kissing, biting, scratching, Michael’s accidental stalkerish behaviour.
A/N: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, they/them pronouns used.
It’s Friday night and you should be out, getting drunk at the pub or dancing your arse off at the club, instead, you are at the library, different editions of the same poem opened in front of your face, not because you are cramming for a paper, but because you don’t feel like having to deal with people, irritated as you are with life now.
You have those days where you don’t feel like being sociable, instead, you have this need to live through the words of others, pouring over different editions of the same work, until you are satisfied with the results of your own translation. This specific Friday is one of those days, and you are elated that the library is empty, or almost.
You are not truly alone, hidden in this corner because, sitting at the other table of this little nook, there’s a guy.
You are almost positive his name is Michael, Michael something, mathematical genius and nerd at the end of the social hierarchy. The guy who has been following you, changing his sitting place every single time you did in the past few weeks.
You didn’t see it at the start, with the library always packed you started sitting wherever you could find a free spot and thought nothing when he did the same, you didn’t even noticed him!
You realized when you started studying late in the evening.
With the library half empty, this Michael guy could have picked any spot, every single time, instead he kept sitting at a table next to yours, always with a good vantage point. Yet, you kept telling yourself that maybe he just didn’t want to sit somewhere alone in a place which becomes creepy at night time, nothing to truly see here, but, but… If you have to be blunt about it, he doesn’t give you the idea of a chap who is afraid of being alone; if he is who you think he is, then having no friends it’s his norm.
You could have left it at that, forget about the whole thing, but you are curious, far more than what’s healthy for you, so you concocted a plan, quite stupid really, to gauge his reaction. You partner in crime, albeit without knowing it, had been you friend Ellie, who was studying for a chemistry exam, quite complicated and hard to pass. One night you two were studying and she was getting more and more frustrated, you decided to act.
“So.” You asked her. “What do you think about science?”
“Fuck science!” Right on cue she gives you the answer you need.
Staring in the direction of Michael you said loud and clear.
“Yeah, fuck science indeed” right the second he was looking at you.
It might have been a random coincidence, but he became bolder after your little experiment, his eyes not leaving yours whenever you stared up from the books and even changing tables, whenever a spot nearer yours was freed, and he was already sitting somewhere else, as if he wanted you to know what he was doing.
But what was that he was hoping to achieve by acting like a stalker?
You lift your head and there he is, seemingly engrossed in his own work, glasses low on his long nose and the irritation you’ve felt all day spikes up, red and warm in your belly and you know you shouldn’t do a single thing, but pack your stuff and go back to your dorm, you know you should, yet you stare at him again and he’s looking at you, unabashedly, with that pretentious smile on his face and you throw all your good intentions out of the window.
You stand up, the old chair scraping on the floor and march towards him. He looks startled and huffs in surprise when you straddle his legs and pop his thick glasses up his head.
“I think it’s time we greet one another properly, don’t you think? You’ve been following me around, after all!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
In his panic he tries to slide you off himself, but your ground yourself against his body, your hands grabbing the backrest of his chair, forgetting that you are wearing a skirt tonight.
“Care to tell me why you’re acting like a stalker?”
“I’m not a stalker!” He seems to have managed to grasp control back, the mask of surprise gone from his face. “Get off me!”
“I will, when you’ll tell me the truth!”
Michael had noticed you during a sunny afternoon in the library.
He was slaving over some physics homework, more boring than hard for him and he had let his eyes wander, just to distract himself for a moment.
You were sitting at his same table, facing him and a bit on his right side; you had a fortress of books around you and were furiously taking notes, that’s what had made him stop his gaze: how hard you were studying.
Michael knows many people come to the library as a mean to see and be seen by their peer, others truly try to work and can’t hold their focus for too long you, on the other end, didn’t look like the kind of person who would truly work their arse off so early in the semester, yet there you were, making use of the ridiculous amount of colorful post – it notes in your possession. He had snickered when noticing the animal themed stationery you were using and but hey! You shouldn't judge the book from his cover, right?
Almost absentmindedly, he had started looking for you, when at the library, just to see if he was right in his early observation, and you kept surprising him with the way you would single – mindedly concentrate on your work.
One afternoon, it was very late and most people were already gone, he had taken a peak at your notes, while you were looking for another book, curious to know what you were studying with such a passion and discovered it had to do with linguistics. He had no idea what your coursework talked about, but a quick look at your scrambled handwriting, revealed him a smart mind. This was his tipping point, when he had decided that he wanted to get to know you, if only he had the slightest idea how to!
He had never thought that, casually, sitting nearby you would have been stalkerish, it’s just that he doesn’t know how to start a conversation with you, he’s not that kind of guy! If you were in one of his courses, he would have found a way to get to know you better, but you don’t, and you pay your fellow students no mind, when you are at the library. What’s a guy to do but keep an eye on you, waiting for the right moment to act?
After the whole ‘Fuck science’ shenanigans, he had thought you must have caught wind of what he was doing and maybe you would have started something yourself, but you didn’t. Until tonight.
You realize how embarrassing your position is, when his hands fly on your hips to still your movements, and you register his hardening cock against your wet pussy (and when did that happen?)
“Are you done?” He asks, piercing eyes fixated on yours. “I’m Michael, since you wanted to greet me properly. What’s your name?”
You stare at him dumbly. What have you just done?
His hands curl on the meat of your hips and you yelp in surprise. You need to abort this mission, immediately, but now he’s the one who’s not letting you go.
“So?” He says mockingly. “You were in such a hurry to invade my space, and now you’re acting shy?”
He is well aware of how ridiculous the whole setup is, that he should let go, but you are staring at him with wide, surprised eyes, that he can’t help himself and see how far you’ll let him go.
“Talking big from the guy who’s been stalking me for weeks!”
You’re desperately trying to find your footing again; what the hell were you thinking?
“I wasn’t stalking you! You’re truly hard to know!”
“What?”
You need to check your bearings for a second: when did you fall in a Beckett play?
“I just said that you are hard to know.”
“And you thought that… whatever that was, was an actual good idea? Aren’t you supposed to be the smart guy?”
“You are acting dumb yourself, love, straddling your supposed stalker like that!”
The whole situation is so surreal, that the two of you stare at one another, and start laughing, until you are both breathless, and your faces are incredibly close.
He is pretty, extremely so, long eyelashes and high cheekbones, a beautiful, kissable mouth when it’s not curled in his signature, mocking smile. His eyes are slightly unfocused, the brilliant blue losing against the expanding pupil. And he is so warm, his hands on your hips clench and unclench, following the fast rhythm of his breathing.
You hadn’t realize how handsome he is and now he is taking your breath away.
He licks his dry lips and you can’t help but follow the motion, imagining how his tongue would feel against your cunt. Without you even noticing, your hips start moving again against the rough material of his jeans, your lips hovering over his, his hands pushing your closer against his hard cock, you two moan, lips almost touching and he decides to take the matter in his own hands.
Grabbing your nape, he pulls your face towards his, tongue entering your parted mouth without asking for permission, seeking your clumsily, and you let him take the wheel.
He’s desperate in the way he is kissing you, no finesse or control, just his mouth slanted against yours, his tongue fucking your throat and his hands in your hair to keep you where he wants you. You’ve been kissed better, but never with such a passion and need. You can barely breath, your body crushed against his, and you don’t care.
You are both breathless when your lips part, a thin line of spit connecting the two of you.
“Please, tell me you have a condom.” You beg, your forehead finding home against his.
“I don’t. I’ve never -”
The embarrassment in his voice stops you.
Oh Christ on a bike, you think, oh fuck. This, you didn’t expect. Not that you’re an expert yourself, only having a past relationship to account for, but your ex hadn’t been a virgin, you were.
“I’m sorry.” You say, trying to dismount, to no avail, his hands are like manacles on your hips.
“Stay.”
The way he says it, he’s not begging you, he’s telling you what to do and you feel it in your cunt, molten heath growing there, expanding in your tummy, turning your legs into jelly.
“I’m not going to have unprotected sex.”
Michael cocks his head to the side, his eyes dark with need.
Never, not even in his wildest dreams, he had imagined to find himself in this position. If he’s not going to have sex with you, and he will not without a condom, he’s not stupid, he still wants to quench the thirst he sees in your eyes and feels in his own loins.
“Me neither.” He pushes you downward against his painfully hard cock, the friction delicious and cruel.
You hide a moan against his neck, your lips landing where his pulse is, sucking the sweaty skin with desperation. You start canting your hips again against the rough material of his jeans, his hands helping you find the right angle against his erection, pain and pleasure take possession of your body, your lips desperate on his, your teeth biting his lower lip and he forces you even tighter against his crotch and it hurts, the pleasure burns your skin when he grinds your hips, your clit feeling the brunt of his punishment even through the layers your are wearing. Your hands grab his hair and his hide under your skirt, his long fingers grabbing your ass, squeezing hard, nails catching in worn fabric: he needs you, needs to become one with you.
He whimpers when you bite his shoulder through his sweater, one hand finds its way under your jumper and rakes down your back, you whimper, so close, so close.
Your orgasm shatters you, your teeth biting Michael’s shoulder harder and deeper as he keeps rutting against you; you want to tell him it’s too much but he’s making delicious sounds, half strangled moans of pleasure that inflame your body again, a smaller orgasm hitting you when he comes, his face hidden against your neck.
“Is anyone there?”
The haziness of pleasure is broken the second you hear footsteps heading in your direction, and panic follows.
Mrs Daniels, the librarian pokes her head in the small alcove at the far end of the library.
“Sorry to interrupt you.” She says. “Did you hear strange sounds just now?”
The two students stare owlishly at her: poor kids must be studying their arses off. They look like they’ve just ran a marathon, hair sticking at weird angles, and the boy’s cheeks are apple red. Youngsters these days!
“No. We were having a chat, a little break.” Says the one behind a huge row of books.
“Yeah, we were just chatting.” Adds the one she thinks is named Michael, with a smile she can’t truly decipher.
“Oh well, I must have been mistaken then, there’s only the two of you around at this point. Goodnight then.”
The second you two are positive the older woman is far away enough, you two start laughing, barely hiding your guffaws behind your hands.
“Well.” You manage to finally say. “That was close!”
You try not to feel embarrassed when your eyes land on Michael, whose stare is piercing behind his thick glasses.
“Yeah. And I still don’t know your name.”
Heath pools in your lower tummy at the way his voice is low and raspy, desire clear in the way he rakes his eyes down your body.
“You can always come by my dorm and find out.”
Christ, the way Michael’s lips curve, tells you he’s going to discover more than your name tonight.
Everythig taglist: @hightowhxre
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