#Big buddy (Chief)

[2-deadboywalking-2]

why is the mech cadets fandom nonexistent, i have never seen a show so well produced have literally no fandom whatsoever. i try to find any information related to show and it’s never anywhere! i cannot even find character names or screenshots. every page on the fandom wiki is blank, theres exactly three accounts who have posted anything on pinterest (two being PFP makers and one being deviantart). this is hell! where’s the fanart, the fanfiction?!

i am going to fix this. trust me mech cadets fandom, i will singlehandedly build this fandom myself, i will carve it with my blood sweat and TEARS.

[king-ludwig-ii]

Emailing the owner of the blue collar company I work for: hello Mr Lastname, my sincerest apologies for the delay in response. I have handled the issue at hand, though if there is further trouble please don’t hesitate to reach back out to me so I can offer further solutions.

Sincerely,

Arthur

Owner emailing me back: thanks buddy, ‘pprice you

[stopfunkinwmyheart]

I went to see about financing a car. Buddy did not even show me the car I went to see. Before I left tho he informs me I would have to put 15k down for it. A 2019 scat pack with 70k miles.

The first car he shows me was the same as my cousins. I’m like . And he’s all “woah that mileage can’t be right, let me go check” so I checked out tha whip for like 10 minutes thinking “nope”

[robbysreaders]

pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!reader warnings: not beta read, barely proof read oops word count: 3k idk what happened i started with the bar scene and then felt like it needed some lead up and here we are notes: be kind to me, i am not a writer but these doctors have awoken a monster in me.

Robby got roped into a frontline workers’ talk at a local elementary school.

Shen’s mom’s friend is the principal if some public school and somehow that’s how Robby ends up walking into a fluorescent-lit elementary school foyer the same morning Shen’s leaving for his bachelor party weekend.

“You owe me big time, buddy.” he texts Shen.

“We’re naming our firstborn Robby,” Shen fires back.

“You know I’ll hold you to that,” he replys

He walks in with AirPods in, sunglasses still on, looking a bit lost. You glance up from your clipboard and do a double take.

He pops one AirPod out just as you mutter, “Oh… you’re not Dr. John Shen.”

“Nope, I’m not. He’s on a boat somewhere. Bahamas, I think. You’ve got me instead. Dr. Michael Robinavitch. Older. Not as good-looking.” taking his sunglasses off.

“I never said that,” you say, blush creeping up your neck. “I think he must’ve told our principal and it didn’t get passed along. No worries—I’ll just update my intro slide.”

“Sorry for the switch-up,” he says, finally meeting your eyes properly, and holding the look a moment too long.

“Really, it’s fine. Come on, I’ll show you to the gym. Kids will be filing in soon. Just a quick overview of what you do, your schooling, then a few questions. You’ve got backup—a fire chief, a nurse, an EMT. You’re not on the hook for the whole thing.”

As you walk, he points to a motivational poster taped to the wall: a kitten dangling from a tree branch.

“‘Hang in there.’ Very ER-core.”

You nod, straight-faced. “It’s more for the teachers than the students.”

He chuckles.

He introduces himself to a room of squirming third to fifth graders with “So I work in a place where people try to die and I spend most of my time convincing them not to. It’s great.”

They’re hooked.

He talks about trauma bays, night shifts, a time he held someone’s heart in his hands. The kids go wild.

One kid asks if he’s famous.

Another asks if he’s seen poop.

A third says: “You look like Iron Man.”

Robby: “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

After the assembly wraps up, your work bestie sidles up to you.

“So we’re just gonna ignore that Dr. McHottie was eye fucking you the whole time?”

You don’t look up from the stack of worksheets you’re grading. “Literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

She tilts her head. “You should’ve gotten his number. Or I should have. What do you think they’d say if we just called the hospital?”

“I think it violates HIPAA.”

She shrugs. “I don’t think that you know what HIPAA is.”

You roll your eyes.

But the universe isn’t done.

Later, still riding the post-event adrenaline, you stop at the grocery store on your route home. This day earned you cake and a bottle of wine. You’re crouched down in the wine aisle, scanning for the cheapest red on the shelf, when someone clears their throat behind you.

“I think you’re better off with a white. With, uh, berry chantilly cake,” he says, peeking into your basket.

You look up. It’s him.

“An ER doctor and a sommelier? A modern renaissance man.”

“SAT words. The future’s in good hands,” he teases.

“So what’s your wine recommendation then?” you say standing up.

“Oh, I don’t know shit about wine.”

You laugh, and the silence lingers a beat too long.

“I—” “Not—” You speak at the same time.

“Ladies first,” he smiles.

“I was just going to thank you again for coming this morning. Not to show bias, but you were definitely the kids’ favorite.”

“Yeah, the heart story always kills. No pun intended.”

“Well, they had plenty of questions after you left. I told them they missed their chance.”

“I could give you my number. Y’know, in case more vital questions pop up. Or… you could use it to talk to me. Maybe even plan a time for me to take you out?”

You chuckle. “That line work on every elementary school teacher you try to pick up?”

“So far I’m one for one.”

“Not sure that’s statistically significant,” you reply, handing him your phone.

You text him your name—just your name and a smiley.

His phone starts ringing. He glances at it, then winces.

“I’m so sorry—I have to take this. Yeah… I’m just around the block. Okay. Be there in seven.” He turns to you, regret softening his expression. “Really sorry. I’ll text you later?”

“Of course, Dr. Robinavitch. Go save lives.”

”Everyone calls me Robby, or you can call me Michael” he says heading out. Just before the door closes, he glances back once more.

Later, you’re finally home. Glass of red in hand, cozy on the couch. You scroll, half-buzzed from the wine and the day, when a new text pops up:

Michael: My research says champagne’s actually the move next time—for the cake, I mean.

You grin.

You: Not a ton of room in the budget for a Thursday night champagne toast on a public school salary. Think I’ll stick to my $9 red.

You snap a selfie: you, the wine, a smirk.

Michael: Could be my treat? Next Thursday?

Followed by a link to a cozy bar you’ve been wanting to try.

Your fingers hover for only a second before typing:

You: It’s a date ❤️

You get there first.

The bar is small, dim, and full of mismatched chairs and candlelight. The kind of place where couples whisper over charcuterie. You’re nursing a glass of something bubbly, trying to look casual and not like you checked your makeup in your phone camera twelve times already.

Then the door creaks open, and there he is.

Button-down rolled at the sleeves, hair mussed just enough to look effortless—though he’d never admit it took longer than it should’ve. He spots you instantly and smiles like he doesn’t do that often. Like it caught him off guard too.

“You clean up nice,” you say as he slides into the chair across from you.

“You clean up… irresponsibly good,” he says, raising his eyebrows and making you laugh.

You clink glasses and dive straight into easy conversation. It flows, faster than either of you expected. He tells you about the time a raccoon got into the ambulance bay. You tell him about a class trip gone wrong and how a goat chased the entire third grade around a petting zoo.

There’s food—fancy grilled cheese, olives, tiny things with aioli—and more wine. You talk about work, but not too much. You learn he’s been at The Pitt longer than he planned. That he’s not from Pittsburgh, but ended up staying because… well, because.

You don’t push.

He watches you talk with his chin resting on one hand, doing that thing again—looking at you like you’re a puzzle he doesn’t mind not solving.

Midway through dessert, a berry cream tarte— the closest thing they had to the cake you bonded over a week ago— he leans in a little.

“Be honest,” he says. “What’d you actually think when I walked into the school?”

You smirk. “I thought you were a dad who got lost on his way to drop off a forgotten lunchbox.”

Robby laughs. “Brutal.”

“Okay, and also… I thought, oh no, he’s hot.”

He raises his glass. “That’s better.”

He offers you a hand to help you out of the booth and follows beside you, hand barely there at your lower back.

You’re standing outside, the city quiet in that just-past-bedtime way. There’s a light breeze and the smell of something warm from a nearby bakery.

“I had fun,” you say.

“Me too,” he replies. “Thanks for not fleeing halfway through.”

“Thanks for not turning out to be a wine snob.”

“I told you, I know nothing about wine. I was just trying to impress you. I was frantically Googling wine recommendations so i could have a reason to chat with you.”

You both laugh, and then there's a pause. A beat of quiet.

He tilts his head. “So, uh… what’s the move here?”

You step forward. “Well, you did save a lot of lives this week.”

“And you wrangled children into making a thank-you card with the word ‘trauma’ spelled wrong.”

“Tramua is the French spelling,” you deadpan.

That makes him laugh again—but softer this time.

Then he kisses you. Slow and warm, like he’s been thinking about it since the grocery store.

When you pull back, he looks at you like he wants to say something—but doesn’t.

Instead, he laces his fingers with yours.

“Did you park around here?”

“I walked. I’m only a few blocks away.”

“Can I walk you home? Make sure you get there safely.”

You smile. “Of course. It’s that way,” you say, pointing left.

He releases your hand just long enough to move to the curb side, then grabs it again without a word.

You walk in comfortable silence. That kind of quiet that doesn’t need filling.

“This is me,” you say as you reach your stoop. “I’d invite you up for a nightcap, but… it is a school night.”

Robby chuckles. “Can I kiss you again?”

You don’t answer—you just lean in. And suddenly you’re a teenager again, making out on your front porch under a flickering streetlamp.

This time, he’s the one to pull back first, forehead resting against yours. “Alright,” he murmurs. “Guess I have to be the responsible one.”

You steal a few more kisses anyway, laughing softly, before finally saying goodnight and slipping inside.

You’re curled up in bed, grading a stack of vocabulary quizzes, red pen in hand, when your phone buzzes:

Michael: Made it home. Thanks for a great night.

You: I had an amazing time. Up until I got home and got a paper cut on a stack of quizzes I need to finish before tomorrow.

Michael: Sounds serious. I can’t diagnose over text. Could I see it in person? Maybe Saturday?

You: I’d love that, but I won’t be in town—I can’t believe this didn’t come up. I leave tomorrow for an elementary STEM conference. Riveting, I know. I’ll be back Wednesday.

Michael: My schedule’s rough next week. Could you do Friday?

You: One date in and we’re already juggling calendars. I think that’s a good omen 😊

But yes—I’ll pencil you in for Friday.

Michael: Pencil? Ouch. That kind of hurts.

You: Okay, okay. Permanent marker. Color coded. Red for Robby.

Michael: That’s more like it ;)

The days go fast—seminars, lectures, hands-on demos. You barely stop moving.

But every spare second you get, you’re texting him.

Sometimes flirty. Sometimes funny. Sometimes just: Here’s what I’m eating. What about you?

It’s been a while since you’ve been in something like this. But it’s never felt this easy. And you’re really hoping he feels the same way.

Little do you know.

It’s almost time for handoff , and shockingly the ER is in a lull which gives the team time to strike an inquisition on Robby. Dana kicks it off, perched on a nurses station desk.

“Alright Robinovitch, spill”

He looks at her over his glasses, “I just finished handing off to Shen, theres nothing else to spill.”

“You’re smiling.”

“No I’m not.” he says with a frown.

“All week your face is trying so hard not to smile, it’s giving your wrinkles wrinkles.”

Shen turns from the drawer hes been rummaging in for snacks. “Wait, are we talking about how Robby’s been… weirdly chill?”

“I’m not chill.”

“You told a med student that it was alright, we all make mistakes sometimes.”

“I did not.”

“You did. I was there,” Dana grins. “Who are you?”

Robby leans back in his hair, sips his coffee. “Maybe I’m growing. Emotionally.”

Dana gasps. “Oh my God. He’s in love.”

Robby chokes slightly on his drink. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ve had your nose in your phone every free moment you’ve had.” Dana adds. “You’ve taken real breaks where you go talk on the phone in the ambulance bay.”

Robby sets his cup down, but he’s not denying it. Just smirking like someone caught red-handed.

“Alright who’s the lucky lady?”

“You don’t know her and you’ll never know her.”

Shen looks like he’s doing calculus in his head and leans in. “Wait this started when I was on my trip, oh my god, did you meet a hot mom at the elementary school?”

Robby pauses. Just long enough.

“Holy shit, I don’t owe you any more – you got your repayment a hot MILF.”

“Oh my God,” Dana says.

“Jesus Christ, she’s not a mom, she’s a teacher”.

There’s a beat of silence before Dana grins. “You know what? I love this for you.”

Robby rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue.

“Wait,” Shen says. “Does she know you’re, like, emotionally stunted?”

“She’s a 3rd grade teacher. I think she’s prepared.”

Dana hops down. “I’m gonna need details.”

“You’re not getting details.”

Friday rolls around and you’re more excited than you’ve ever been for a second date. It’s cozy and dimly lit—more plants than light fixtures, menus scribbled on chalkboards, and the faint buzz of a bar that feels like a well-kept secret.

You spot him at the bar, already seated towards the back. He’s dressed down again, but there’s something intentional about it—like someone who spent an extra minute wondering what shirt to wear.

He catches your eyes and smiles like he forgot how to do that for a while until recently.

“You’re punctual,” he says, clearly pleased.

“You’re early,” you reply, shrugging off your coat. “I was promised a perpetually late, cynical doctor.”

“Tragic. He’s been replaced by a man who googled ‘cozy date spots that don’t feel like you’re trying too hard.’”

You laugh. “And did it recommend this place?”

“Nope. Shen’s girlfriend did. Which I now realize makes this deeply traceable.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait—do they know?”

Robby sighs. “Dana cornered me in central. I didn’t confirm or deny. Shen said I was glowing. It was… a dark time.”

You smirk.

The food is good—small plates, easy to share. The conversation is even better.

He opens up, just a little—enough to mention the long hours, how emergency medicine pulls you in like a rip current, how sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing he’s really good at.

You tell him about your student who tried to fake a cough for three weeks to get out of a math test, and the tiny triumphs that feel like wins no one else sees.

He watches you talk, head tilted slightly, the corner of his mouth pulled into a lazy smile. His fingers rest near yours on the table. Not touching. Not quite.

Finally, he says, “I’ve gotta be honest—I haven’t really… done this in a while.”

“Tapas?”

He chuckles. “No, like—dating. Letting someone in. It’s easier to stay busy. Stay… guarded, I guess.”

You nod. “Well, I haven’t really dated someone who sees more blood before lunch than most people do in a year, so.”

“So we’re both out of practice.”

“Guess we’ll have to wing it.”

He leans in and kisses you. Slow. Deliberate. This one without surprise. This one because he wanted to all night.

You’ve fallen into a comfortable cadence. You see him a few times a week, more often than you thought you would, but you don't complain. You love his company.

Your schedules do still clash at times.

You planned to go home after parent-teacher conferences. Michael had already mentioned he had plans—finally joining his coworkers for a long-overdue drink after weeks of skipping out.

It doesn’t take much to convince you to meet your own colleagues for a post-conference drink. It’s been a day, and you deserve it.

But as you walk into the bar, you spot a familiar profile near the corner.

You don’t even hesitate. With a little liquid courage in hand, you stroll over and place a hand on his shoulder.

“So… they really just let anyone in here nowadays?”

Michael turns, eyes lighting up in that way that makes your stomach dip. “How’d you find me?”

“Coincidence. We needed to lick our wounds after the parent-teacher conference firing squad.”

One of the guys at the table leans toward the person next to him. “Ahhh. This is the teacher.”

Michael grins and slides his arm around your waist, his hand resting easily at your hip. “Right, where are my manners?” he says introducing you to the team.

You smile, trying not to let the arm-around-your-waist thing short-circuit your brain. “It’s so nice to meet you all. I’ll get back to my workplace complain-fest and let you return to yours.”

You squeeze his shoulder lightly, but before you step away, his hand shifts on your waist, catching your attention. He leans in and lowers his voice just for you.

“If you head out before we do… come say bye?”

You meet his eyes and nod. “Of course.”

The moment you slide into your seat, your coworkers pounce.

“What the hell was that about?”

“You don’t have friends outside of school.”

“Thanks for introducing us to your hot doctor friends???”

“Wait—HOLY SHIT, was that Dr. McHottie with his arm around your waist? Did I miss a chapter?!”

You laugh and give them the short version. You field a rapid-fire round of teasing, eye-rolls, and maybe a few not-so-subtle attempts to angle to get set up with his coworkers, but eventually the conversation drifts to who cried in the hallway today, who mispronounced “photosynthesis,” and whose turn it is to deal with the PTA bake sale disaster.

Your group starts calling it a night. Long day, longer week. You say your goodbyes and make your way back toward Michael’s table, which has thinned out significantly as well.

He stands when he sees you. “My friends couldn’t hang. I’m calling it a night too—just wanted to say bye.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay if you want another drink, honey,” Dana offers, eyes twinkling.

“Oh, I couldn’t impose—”

“You could never,” Michael says, standing and lightly touching your elbow. “What are you drinking?”

You smile. “Whatever you’re having.”

You settle in at the table. The conversation is easy, flowing from hospital horror stories to favorite dive bars to why Dana is banned from karaoke at two different establishments.

Michael returns with drinks, sliding yours to you and casually resting his hand on your thigh under the table, thumb tracing slow circles that make it a little hard to concentrate on anything Dana is saying.

You laugh, you listen, you really like his friends.

The convos come to a close and you all start heading out. You shrug on your coat, and Michael helps, fingers brushing lightly down your arm.

“Want to walk me home?”

He smile. “I’d love that.”

The conversation is light—teasing, wandering, nothing too deep. You talk about favorite childhood snacks and your worst Halloween costumes. He tells you how Jack once sliced his palm on a pineapple slicer and tried to pretend it wasn’t bleeding.

As you reach your apartment steps, you stop and turn to him.

“That was really fun,” you say, quietly. “I like your friends. I hope I didn’t make anything awkward.”

“Not at all,” he replies. “They loved you.”

“Good. Glad I passed the first big test.”

He chuckles. “Teachers and their testing.”

There’s a pause. Then: “So… want to come up?” you ask, voice soft but steady.

He hesitates, not pulling away. “I’d really like to. But I just came off a twelve-hour shift, and I’ve probably had two more drinks than I should’ve. If I sit down, I’m going to be half-asleep in seconds.”

You take his hand and start walking him toward your door.

“Then that’s settled,” you say. “Can’t have you falling asleep in the Uber.”

You open the door, letting the warm light spill into the hallway, and look back at him with a little smile.

He follows you in without another word.

You flick on the light and immediately cringe.

“Wow. Sorry. My place looks like my classroom exploded in here.”

Michael steps in behind you, taking in the scattered worksheets, the pile of books on your couch, and the half-folded laundry draped over a chair.

“You should see the trauma bay on a Tuesday,” he says, tossing his jacket over the back of a stool. “This is a spa by comparison.”

You kick aside a rogue glue stick. “I did mean to clean today, but then 30 small humans and their guardians demanded to know if their kid is ‘thriving academically’ while also asking what ‘phonics’ actually is.”

He snorts.

You pad to the kitchen and grab two glasses of water, handing one to him. “Doctor’s orders.”

He grins. “Responsible and charming.”

You sit on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you. He follows, moving slowly—like someone who’s used to being on his feet for twelve hours and finally has permission to stop.

He slouches into the other end of the couch, long legs stretched out, one arm thrown over the backrest. He takes a sip of water and closes his eyes for a second, just breathing.

“I’m gonna fall asleep right here,” he murmurs.

You smile. “Go for it. My couch has a strict no-judgment zone.”

There’s a long, easy silence after that. Not awkward—just soft.

Eventually, you get up and offer him a hand “you’re not sleeping on the couch, come on”

He reaches for your hand —warm fingers curling around yours for just a second longer than necessary.

He follows you to your room, hands still intertwined. It’s not the first time you’ve shared a bed, but it is the first time you’ve shared one without hooking up before. It all feels very intimate.

There’s a surgical precision to how he fits into your evening routine that leaves you a little breathless as you settle into bed.

“Night,” he murmurs wrapping an arm around you and nuzzling in.

You squeeze his hand once, gently. “Goodnight, Michael.”

[bigification]

Boss' Side Hustle

You close your computer and get ready to head home after a long day of handing out parking tickets and doing paperwork. The police chief has been dealing you the worst jobs in the precinct, but you're new so you understand.

"Yo Peterson, get over here." One of your coworkers yells at you from across the precinct. You look over, squinting for a moment before recognizing him. He looks... different than he did last time you saw him. His uniform is a lot tighter around his muscles than it usually is, and he's started growing out a beard, something he's never done before.

You walk over to see a crowd of officers crowded around a tv that's attached to the wall. Like moths to a flame, they're glued to the screen.

"You seeing this? This is the craziest wrestling match I've seen in a long time." Your coworker continues, getting giddy as he talks about wrestling.

"Oh, yeah. Definitely..." You dismiss him.

No one around here had ever been interested in wrestling until about a week ago. Then, one by one, everyone at the precinct got hooked on it. That and the fact that they all seemed to become muscle gods overnight, its suspicious. You haven't been able to stop thinking about it, and investigating it has been able to scratch an itch that your job hasn't been able to.

It all seemed to start with the chief. He was the first one who got hooked on wrestling before it spread to the rest of the precinct like a plague.

"Have a good night boys, I'll see you tomorrow." The chief says as he leaves his office.

The group of men wave goodbye before bringing their attention right back to the wrestling match.

"I gotta head out too." You say before following the chief, but it's not like any of them were paying attention.

You follow the chief out into the parking lot and watch him get into his car. You quickly follow, using your police training to not get noticed, but you struggle to hide your nerves. Sweat is staining your uniform, all you can think about is whether you're wrong about this. You're risking your job on a hunch. But your gut tells you to continue, so you do. You follow him until he pulls into the parking lot of what looks like an abandoned gym. You park across the street and follow him inside.

The further you go into the building, the louder it gets. It sounds almost like cheering. You open a door that brings you into a large open room, there's a small wrestling ring into the middle with a crowd of people surrounding it. You push through the crowd, finally catching up with the chief. He's in the ring.

"Stop right there, Chief." You yell as you jump into the ring, holding out your taser towards your boss.

"Peterson?" He chuckles. "You followed me here?"

"I want to know what you're up to." You try to control the situation, but the sweat dripping down your face makes it obvious how scared you are.

"Aw, you felt left out, didn't ya buddy?" The chief taunts you as he slowly approaches. "The desk jockey just had to prove himself, huh?" He sports a cocky grin as he gets up close, knowing you won't do shit to stop him. "Since you're feeling so left out, how 'bout I let you in on all of the fun."

He lunges at you, grabbing the taser out of your hand and knocking you off balance. He grabs the back of your head and pushes your face into his armpit. His stench invades your nostrils and his sweat smears across your face. You try to pull away, but he's much stronger than you.

"Breathe boy, it'll help you grow big and strong." He whispers in your ear.

You try to hold your breath for as long as possible, but eventually you have no choice. You grasp for air, coughing as the fumes enter your body.

"Atta boy." He says.

Something feels off. Your skin starts to burn as your clothes feel tighter and tighter. You can hear the buttons on your uniform pop off one by one as your body grows. Soon enough, every button on your uniform has ripped off, leaving your shirt wide open and revealing your toned body. Your stomach ripples as a defined six pack forms on your abs, and your chest rises into two meaty pecs. Your sleeves rip open as your biceps swell to the size of a football and your shirt finally rips in half as your shoulders broaden.

"You like that, don't ya boy." The chief says as you stop struggling. You've started to relax, besides, you're starting to like the smell of his armpit. It's even starting to make you hard. "Oh, you do like that." The chief laughs as he sees the bulge forming in your pants.

Your belt rips in half as your ass starts to expand, filling out the space in your pants. Though it doesn't take long for them to tear right down the seam, letting the crowd see the growing bulge in your underwear. The rest of your pants rip to shreds as your legs thicken to the size of tree trunks.

By this point, you're taking deep breaths and even licking the chiefs sweaty pit just to get more of his musk. He's got you hooked.

"Atta boy, you're comin along." He growls.

You suddenly feel an intense itch erupt all across your body as dark hairs sprout from your sweaty skin. First your pecs are covered in a pelt of hair which spreads down to your six pack and around to your back. Then a forest of hair grows on your arms and legs. Finally growing along your jawline, giving you a five o'clock shadow that's quickly growing into a full beard.

"That's it, boy. Look at how far you've come." He says proudly as he loosens his grip.

He pulls you out of his pit and you hear the crowd roar.

"They're cheering for ya boy, get up!" The chief says.

You get to your feet, now towering over your boss. Looking around, you recognize many of your coworkers in the crowd, cheering for you. It lights a fire in you. You walk to the center of the ring and prepare to fight.

--- Epilogue ---

You drag a thief into the precinct and toss him into a cell after a long day of chasing down criminals. The police chief has been giving you the most important jobs lately, but with how strong you are, you understand.

"Yo Peterson, get over here." Your best bud yells at you from across the precinct.

You run over to see a replay of your wrestling match with the chief last night. All the guys are basically drooling over you after you wiped the floor with the chief. Your basking in the glory when someone taps you on the shoulder. You turn to see... no one. But after a moment, you look down to see a younger looking guy in an oversized police uniform.

The guy clears his throat before talking. "Ugh hey, so I've struggled to put on muscle even when training for the police academy, what's your secret."

You look at your massive biceps and smile. "Want me to show you, buddy?"

"Yeah!" The guy seems to light up.

You grab the back of his head and stuff it into your armpit.

"Breathe buddy, it'll help you grow big and strong."

[minminbunny]

Drabble Masterlist

Main Blog Masterlist - minminyoonjii

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-> ABO AU - Alpha!/Omega Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Stalker X Stalker AU - Dom!/Sub Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Hybrid AU - Black Panther Hybrid!/Older Undercover Cop Gender Neutral! Reader

Seo Changbin

-> Caregiver Soft Dom/Bunny Hybrid Fem! Reader

-> Sugar Daddy AU - Fem! Reader

-> Reincarnation AU - Obsessed Lover/Naive Fem! Reader

-> Gym Buddy AU - Perverted/Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Stalker X Stalker AU - Savior Complex!/Deraged Gender Neutral! Reader

Hwang Hyunjin

-> Misunderstanding AU - Fem! Reader

-> ABO AU - Alpha/Omega Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Werewolf AU - Alpha/Unpresented Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Demon AU - Demon!/Gender Neutral Human! Reader

-> Stalker X Stalker AU - Photograph Lurker!/Monster Lover Gender Neutral! Reader

Han Jisung

-> Caregiver Soft Dom/Fem! Reader

-> Arranged Marriage AU - Chairman's Son/Fanfic Author Fem! Reader

-> Cat Hybrid/Owner Fem! Reader

-> Ghost Roommate AU - Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Siren AU - Human Fem! Reader

-> Eldritch AU - Tentacle Monster!/Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Stalker X Stalker AU - Lurker!/Exhibitionist Gender Neutral! Reader

Lee Felix

-> Royalty AU - Crown Prince/Duchess! Reader

-> Academic Rivals AU - Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Mafia AU - Sadist Older/Bratty Fem! Reader

-> Best Friends to Lovers AU - Big Cock!/Unexperienced Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Stalker X Stalker AU - Psychotic!/Love Straved Gender Neutral! Reader

Kim Seungmin

-> ABO AU - Alpha/Omega Fem! Reader

-> Writer AU - Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Enemies to Lover AU - Hero/Villain Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Enemies to Lovers AU - Inspector!/Doctor Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Stalker X Stalker AU - Manipulative!/Stockholm Syndrome Gender Neutral! Reader

Yang Jeongin

-> Childhood Best Friend AU - Fem! Reader

-> Caregiver Soft Dom/Sleeping Fem! Reader

-> Mafia AU - Fem! Reader

-> Future AU - AI Robot!/Suicidal Professor Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Stalker X Stalker AU - Posessive Coworker!/Naive Gender Neutral! Reader

Multi

-> Yandere Vampire AU - Chanlix/Fem! Reader

-> Alien Stage AU [Round 6] - Jilix

-> Doctor AU - Dr! Seungmin/Dr! Jisung/Dr! Changbin/Patient Fem! Reader

-> Sex Shop AU - Sub! Lee Felix/Sub! Han Jisung/Dom Gender Neutral! Reader

-> Corruption AU - Bottom! Dance Racha/Manipulative Male! Reader

[saturneras]

Private Eyes I

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Fresh out of law school and spending the summer with your parents in your hometown, you’re looking to gain some new work experience without having to slave your life away in a big law firm. As a favor to your brother, his buddy Tommy gets you a last minute spot to work at the local police department. The chief of police however is none other than the unnervingly grumpy and mean Joel Miller aka Tommy‘s older brother and member of your brother‘s weekly poker round. The moment you meet him you know he doesn’t want you there and he is not afraid to make it known. And you sure do like to make a man lose his composure. He‘s not the first one to challenge you, but will he be the last?

Note: This is my first post, so please be gentle. This story does not aspire to be realistic or accurate representation of law enforcement etc. and is purely for your enjoyment. English is not my first language, but I’ll try my best. Hope you love to read it as much as I do writing it.

„So you really think this is all going to work out?“

Your brother Casey groans and changes lanes to take the exit. „I told you before and I will tell you again: Tommy said that he’s totally cool with it.“

„I don’t trust it. From what you’ve told me I don’t picture him as a guy who says he’s cool with it“, you reply and look at the trees passing my. Summer is here in its entirety and apart from the gentle cooling breeze rushing in through the cracked passenger seat window, the lingering heat hasn’t lifted for days. You watch your brother shake his head as he slows down at a red light and glances your way. That is what you get for staying in your hometown for the summer in a city without any public transport - relying on your older brother for a ride to work.

„Once you get to know him he’s actually pretty laid back“, he says.

„You literally told me a few weeks ago that you haven’t met anyone who is more of a control freak“, you say.

„I did not call him a control freak, I just said that he likes to be in control and does not take kindly to people distrusting that. He just likes things to be a certain way. Can’t blame him when he’s got all the responsibility." Casey shrugs, changing the radio station to country music.

„He’s a police officer”, you say. “Not the president.”

“He’s the chief of police”, your brother corrects and pulls up in front of a cream coloured building. A huge stone sign graces its front facing wall. Police Department. “Maybe you should dial down the judgy tone.”

You scoff. “I wasn’t being judgmental. I’m just trying to figure out in what kind of lions den you’re sending me.”

He grins. “Just remember that you were the one who wanted to “gain experience in the real world.” He emphasizes his quotation with his fingers. “I told you to spend the summer lying by the pool and reading your fantasy novels or whatever weird shit you’re currently obsessing over.”

You can't help but roll your eyes and unbuckle your seatbelt. "I'll try to keep the attitude to a minimum."

"Just give him a bit of time to warm up to you."

You let out a theatrical gaps. "Am I not a delight to meet brother dearest?"

Now it is Casey's turn to role his eyes. "Just don't embarrass me. The older Miller is already creepily good at mind games while playing poker and I don't need him to gain more leverage on me."

After stepping out of the car, you turn around and Casey rolls the window down further. "Thanks for the ride. Feels just like high school."

"Don't get used to it. I'll be on the site with Tommy until about five and then head over to Mickey's for a drink if you want a ride back."

"Sure", you nod. "I'll text you when I'm out."

Casey pulls out of the parking lot and you give a little wave as he turns the corner and drives out of sight. You exhale a deep breath you didn't know you were holding and turn around, facing the entrance. From what you have heard about the oldest Miller brother, you are not entirely convinced that this will be a smooth ride. Grumpy, demanding, ruthless, closed-off and moody are only a couple of words Casey used to describe Joel Miller. And even though you've known Tommy since he and your brother opened their contractor business, you have never laid eyes on his big brother before. The front entrance door swings open and rips you out of your thoughts. A woman, probably in her mid 50s, steps out of the building, looking at you and then around the almost empty parking lot. She frowns for a moment and then her eyes dart back to you.

"Are you okay there, honey?" Her voice is soft and low, sounding familiar even though you've never seen her before.

You nod eagerly. "Yes, sorry, I was just about to go in."

"Do you need another minute or are you ready?"

Taking the last couple of steps toward the entrance you grab the door she is holding open with her extended arm. "Ready."

"Is this your first time?" She asks me.

"Yes, actually", you reply.

"How are you feeling on a scale of one to 10, one being the worst?"

Well, that is unusual.

"I guess.. a good 8?"

"Great", she smiles and turns around, walking toward a desk in the entrance of the police station. "Here are the forms, if you need anything just let me know, I will be right over there and especially if you need any medical attention. Do you need medical attention?"

You shake your head quickly. "No..no, of course not. Why would I need medical attention?"

She hands me a clipboard with forms attached to it and a gel pen. "It is just protocol to ask, you know. But I am glad you're feeling well."

You sit down and glance at the files. This looks like a lot of personal questions for a summer job. Scanning the forms a couple of times, you get up towards the desk, just as the entrance door opens behind you.

"I'm sorry to bother you again, but I am not quite sure why exactly I need to fill this out? I thought I had already sent my CV over a week ago."

"Your CV? Why would we need your CV?"

"Everything good, Lori?" A voice from behind you resounds and you turn around. A guy in dark blue police uniform and a blonde buzzcut stands a couple of steps behind you and smiles.

Lori reciprocates the smile and rises from her seat. "Oh yes, Daniel. This woman is just filling out the assault report."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "A what? No, I am not filling that out."

She winks at you. "Sure, you are not."

"I think there's been a mistake. I am here for the summer job. Tommy Miller sent me."

Lori frowns and thankfully Daniel steps forward and offers you his hand. "You're Casey's sister, right?"

You exhale gratefully and take his hand. "Yes, I am."

"I'm Daniel Riley", he says and you introduce yourself.

Daniel shakes your hand, while looking over at Lori. "This is who the chief was talking about the other day."

Lori's face tenses. "Oh I am so sorry, dear. I thought you were here for our weekly office hours for women in need."

You give her a smile and wave it off. "No worries."

"Do you want me to call the chief?" She asks Daniel.

He shakes his head. "No need, I'll just give her the tour."

Lori nods and looks to you. "Well, if you need anything, I am right here up front."

"Thanks", you say and follow Daniel through the hallway leading further into the station.

He introduces you to the two officers in the kitchen having coffee and leads you through the whole floor, explaining how everything works. "You know we all thought you were Tommy's girlfriend, you know?"

"Why? Because he put in a good word?"

"More so because the chief acted like he was agreeing to taking a bullet to the chest for letting you work here for the summer", Daniel replies and chuckles.

"That sounds reassuring", you huff.

"So not Tommy's girlfriend?"

You shake your head. "No, just the sister of a very convincing brother."

"Good to know." Daniel grins. "Have you talked to the chief about your tasks yet?"

"Not yet, no", you say, walking beside him toward the back of the station.

"Well, maybe he is out or something. But he usually will show himself at the staff meeting at around 11. Until then, maybe you can help me out a bit?" His green eyes shimmer faintly in the fluorescent office light.

"Sure, what do you need?"

He opens the door to a dark room and turns on the light. Rows of shelves filled with boxes fill up the room and the room is so badly lit and stuffy that you have to squint your eyes to make out the size of it.

"This is the archive", Daniel explains rather redundantly. "I need a couple of files for a case I am working on. Do you mind getting them out and over to my desk?"

"I can do that."

"Great", he says. "I need every robbery case from 1979 to 1981 that you can find okay?"

"I'll have them right over," you say and step into the room, leaving Daniel behind you.

The room's smell reminds you of your school's old gym basement, where they used to store all the old equipment. You walk further among the shelves and try to make out the labels. Thank god, they are labeled by years, so you quickly can find 1980 and 1981. But even after having checked every shelf, you cannot find 1979. Just when you're about to asks for help, you find yourself in front of a filing cabinet towering over you and on top the missing box. Perfect. You rise on your tiptoes and stretch your arms as high as possible, only reaching the bottom of the box. Slowly, you try to move it toward you without catching dust and dirt in your eyes. The box is heavier than the other ones and it takes a while for you to move it almost over the edge. When it's just about to tip over, the door behind you slams shut.

"Hey Daniel, can you give me a hand with this one?" You asks him and the footsteps are closing in on you. You try to turn your head to take a glance at what's behind you, but the box of files tips toward you. You manage to whisper a breathy oh no, when not only the box, but the whole locker tilts and falls toward you. You flinch and try to step out of danger zone, when suddenly you are slammed against the file cabinet by something hard. Your body is locked in between whatever pushed you against the locker and the door itself, still leaning dangerously close to you, but not falling. Whatever is pressed against your back is effectively caging you in. It feels heavy and ..warm.

"Can I help you?" You asks tentatively.

"That's what I am trying to do here." The voice is low and not much more than a growl as it sounds right next to your ear. Definitely not Daniel. The man's breath trailing down the side of your throat, warming the spot between neck and your shoulder. You suppress a shiver that's just waiting to pass over your back.

"If you could just move, I can get out", you suggest and the man huffs.

"If I move, this cabinet will fall and take you down with it, Darlin'."

You move your head as much as you can and look up above you just to realise that the cabinet and with it the box of files is only being held up by two thick arms in a white dress shirt. "Oh."

"I need you to get on your knees", he says and your body tenses. What?

"Excuse me?"

He groans. "Just get on your knees and crawl, damn it."

"I don't know what your deal is, but if you keep this up you will get to know mine", you reply and your threat earns nothing but a low chuckle that dies as quick as it started.

"If you don't get out from underneath, I can't let that damned thing go. So just get on your goddamn knees and move. I can't hold it much longer."

"Famous last words", you say and try to lower yourself to your knees. The locker is so close that you cannot exactly move away from the guy behind you, so you need to slide down while pressed against him.

You bend your knees and slide your back down his front, slowly toward the floor, trying not to lose your balance. His whole body goes rigid and you are sure you imagine the quick release of a held breath once your knees make contact with the floor. You turn around and crawl out from underneath the locker, past the man's shoes. Just as you rise to your feet, a loud crash announces the final fall of the cabinet. The man's broad back is still turned to you, when the door opens and Daniel steps in.

"What on earth is going on here?" He calls.

The man turns around, illuminated by the streams of light coming in from the open door and finally you can take a good look at him. He is wearing a loosened grey tie over his white shirt and beige slacks. Except for a rogue one dangling on his forehead, his dark brown curls are neatly slicked back. The urge to run your hands through them arises, making you wonder. Maybe it's just the dimly lit room but he's got the darkest eyes you've ever seen. And these eyes are staring right at you, fixating on your face with an impression that you can't quite place. He doesn't even waste a glance at Daniel.

"Leave us", he says slowly.

A frown appears on Daniel's forehead. "Can I do anything?"

"Just shut the goddamn door, Riley," he says without any room for discussion. And when Daniel takes a step further inside he continues: "Behind you."

Daniel just huffs out a breath and closes the door behind him. The silence following his retreat is deafening. No one says anything for a whole minute, just the sound of his and my breathing filling the air.

"You're late", he finally says.

"I got held up filling out the assault forms", you reply.

The ever-present frown on his face deepens. "Why were you filling out the assault forms?"

"They thought I was looking for help", you say. "But I'm here now."

"You don't think you need to be on time?" He replies.

"I got here at 9," you say.

"Shift starts at 7:30", he states.

"Well, no one told me that."

"Did you ask?"

What is this guys deal? The outside apparently does not match the inside.

"No, I did not", you say, crossing your arms. "I assumed the department would inform me."

"Do you always assume that things are just being handed to you?" His eyes narrow slightly.

"Are you implying that I don't work for what I've earned?"

"I'm saying that you came here unprepared", he says.

"I'm not sure how well I should have prepared to be able to look through boxed files, but you're right, maybe I should have practiced dates a little before coming here or brought my stepping stool for reaching higher places so I don't get killed by a freaking cabinet on the first day."

"Are you mocking important data work?"

"No, I'm just mocking you", you say and lift your chin a little to glare right back at him.

"Rich coming from someone whose life I just saved", he says.

"If you hadn't pushed me, I could have just stepped out of the way."

"Just say thank you, it isn't that hard", he drawls.

"Do you need me to get on my knees for that too?" You snap and your eyes flicker to the muscle in his jaw twitching.

His eyes go impossibly dark and without breaking your glance, he closes the distance between you two, forcing you to lift your head to look up at him. This close you can make out the tiny golden spots that surround his irises and the soft grey streaks that run through his longer than a 5 o'clock shadow on his chin. His eyes graze quickly over your face, stopping ever so slightly on your parted lips. You can't help but wanting them to linger there.

"Careful now, Darlin'", he whispers. "Let's mind our manners."

His chest now faintly grazes your crossed arms and you can make out a hint of his smell, reminding you of a sunset on the porch after a lake day, tranquil, woodsy and so familiar it hurts.

"You're right, I'm sorry - do you need me to get on my knees for that too, sir?"

His jaw tenses and you can almost see the anger building up in his eyes. But you can't help it, you're enjoying pushing him just to see his control falter the slightest bit. He's might be an asshole, but he still makes you want to see what his face looks like on top of yo-

"I advise you to watch that mouth of yours or the only thing you'll be seeing in the future is the outside of this building, do you understand?" He says, not as calmly as before.

"We'll see what the chief has to say about that", you say and hope to whichever god might listen that the eldest Miller brother is even the tiniest bit as receptive to your charm as Tommy is.

The man in front of you lifts his eyebrows as if he has just now finally understood something. "Sure, let's see what he says."

You lean forward a tiny bit and press your arms against his broad chest. Just to annoy him and introduce yourself. "I'm Casey's sister by the way. Tommy's friend?"

The man smiles unnervingly sinister. "Oh, I know exactly who you are."

Another forceful knock on the door makes you leap a step back from him. "Sir?"

He rolls his eyes and calls back. "Yes?"

"We just got a call from the Sheriff's office, they need you on line 4", one of the officers says.

"I'll be right out", he says.

"Thank you, chief", she says and you hear her step away from the door.

Lord almighty, it can't be. No, no, hell no.

The realisation must be written all over your face because his mouth forms into the smallest grin.

"You are-

"Joel Miller, Chief of Police", he introduces himself.

You shake your head in disbelief. This can't be.

"And while you're .. adjusting, why don't you make yourself useful and tidy this up?" He points behind himself at the cabinet and the spilled files on the floor. "From what I've gathered you're probably used to cleaning up your messes."

With that he turns and brushes past me as if he had just stepped in to say 'hello', making his way to the door. Fucking sadist.

You can't even bring yourself to turn your head. Anger and embarrassment crawls all over your skin, rising up to your head. No one has made you feel this way in a long time. You run a hand through your hair and turn towards the files and documents covering the floor. He is even worse than what you've imagined. A shitty boss with an attitude? You've handled that before. But a boss with an attitude, a sharp mouth and a demand for power? That's new. The issue being that not only do you want him to suffer now, but you want to find out what exactly makes this man of stone lose his grip on the control that he so preciously protects.

Come what may, this is going to be a hell of a summer.

[simplysparrow14]

THIS👏🏻EPISODE👏🏻HAD👏🏻EVERYTHING👏🏻

Callowmoore right out of the gate, a reunion hug followed by fearne's "sorry" because both of them are so sore from their moon adventure

Ashton asking if Fearne wanted company and Fearne responds with "I would love some company, but can we just hold onto each other?"

Travis "#1 Callowmoore shipper" going "Someone should draw that" to the audience before hiding his face.

Also Shipper in Chief Laura Bailey

Everyone doing reaction faces as Ashton and Fearne going to bed.

Fearne Big-Spooning Ashton

Zathuda, being the evil helicopter dad that he is, seeing his daughter cuddling with a boy really said "No daughter of mine" and lured her away

Ashton waking up, not feeling Fearne and knowing instantly that something was wrong with her

Ashton demanding Chetney to find Fearne (and orym) going, "Find. THEM. NOW."

Chetney using his canine nose to sniff out fearne...only to turn him in a circle right back to Ashton. and Chetney just going:

while Ashton just full on an inch away from chocking this old man out.

Ashton and Gang finding Fearne and Ashton, knowing that she is more than exaushted, letting her take his hand and help her over the wall going "Next time, take someone with you. Take a buddy" ("AKA ME")

in conclusion:

that dumb rock is deeply in love with that goat woman. I rest my case.

[mandarinmoons]

hello 👋

its me again (psychic buddy from the bar request you just did) i have a new thought/request for you.

spencer has been lowkey crushing on bau!reader when sean hotchner comes around for the first time and the girls are all checking him out and he starts flirting with reader. derek then starts teasing spencer about it and spencer starts to get jealous and flustered and embarrasses himself in the bullpen in front of everyone. im not exactly sure how to end this one so i trust you to take the reigns.

thanks love! 💕

I honestly adore the ideas you have my dude <3

Spencer was sitting at his desk, filling out paperwork at lightspeed when he heard chatter coming over from behind him. Turning around, he saw you along with JJ, Emily and Penelope, giggling along like young schoolgirls.

Straining his ears, he made out the words “cute” and “hot” along the chatter, having no clue what the ladies were talking about. Seeing them look in the direction of Hotch’s office, Spencer turned his head towards the window and saw two figures, one of them being Aaron, meanwhile the other person looked to be a complete stranger. It was a man and it dawned on Spencer who the girls were talking about.

“Who’s that with Hotch?”

“Who is that indeed?”

The girls laughed at Emily’s comment and Spencer’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. Even for not knowing who the mysterious man was, the girls were seemingly very interested in him.

“It’s Hotch’s brother, he’s kinda cute.”

“Kinda? Y/N, that man is stunning! Forget about buying me a drink, I would buy him a drink!” Penelope fanned her face while not breaking contact with the window to the room where the men resided.

As the girls continued to gossip, Spencer’s attention turned to you as he saw a pink hue adorn your cheeks. It was clear to him that you found the visitor attractive and he felt his heart drop to his stomach as a pang of insecurity washed over him.

Spencer had been quietly pining over you behind the scenes for months now. He had been trying to gather the courage to ask you out, if not for a date then for a simple coffee outing, but something always came up or whenever he came up to try his luck, his nerves took over and instead of clear words, out came incoherent babble. It would end with you giving Spencer a few peppermint candies to help calm his nerves and now he had a small bowl of them on his desk, a reminder of all the times he had failed and a reminder to do better next time, and possibly the next after that.

Seeing the men walk out of the office, the ladies headed back to their desk to make it seem that they were working, while they carefully watched as the unit chief and his brother came down the stairs. Spencer's eyes were still on you, your eyes turned down to the files on your desk, biting your lip to hide a smile.

As the men reached the ground floor, they shared a hug before Hotch walked up the stairs to his office. Turning to head his way out, the visitor’s feet stopped in their place, his eyes looking straight ahead of him, right at you.

Slowly stalking your way, Sean lightly knocked on your desk. Your eyes went big as you saw the man you were just ogling over, now right next to you.

“Can I help you?”

“Perhaps yeah.”

The nerves Spencer’s stomach grew as an infectious smile grew on your face, it seemingly getting brighter every minute as the conversation between you and Sean continued.

“Not liking what you’re seeing, pretty boy?”

Spencer jumped in his seat as Derek appeared seemingly out of nowhere, patting his back which caused a violent cough to erupt out of Spencer.

“You still haven’t asked her out?”

“I haven’t had the chance, no.”

“Come on now player, you just gotta have a bit of confidence. You don’t have forever, and your time might run out sooner than you think, if you know what you mean.”

Turning his head to you, he heard another giggle leave your lips as your attention was fully on Sean. Spencer bit his lip as he considered his odds, he could be rejected by you, but his chances of you saying yes were higher now as Sean hadn’t asked you out, yet, as far as he was sure of it.

Standing up, Derek smirked as he saw his younger brother of a friend make his way to you, seeing a slight bounce in his step but his hands were also slightly shaky.

“Hey Y/N, can we-”, before Spencer could finish his sentence, he tripped over his feet and a second later he was lying on the ground. After blinking a few times, what had happened set in and heat went to his cheeks, cursing himself in his head for messing it up yet again.

“Spence, you okay?”

Hearing quick footsteps approach him, he looked up and saw your concerned face hover over him, a worried frown painted on your face.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.”

Giving him your hand, Spencer took a hold of it as he stood up, feeling his knees go weak again as he realized he was holding onto your hand.

“Are you sure you’re okay? That was a pretty bad fall.”

“I’m sure yeah. Don’t worry about me, really.”

Nodding at Spencer’s answer, you went back to your desk to continue your conversation with Sean as Spencer went back to his work, sighing to himself as he felt a slight pain in the side of his head. Sitting down at his chair, his eyes set on the bowl of candies, nearly overflowing at this point. He picked up one of the sweets and put it in his mouth, the cooling sensation of the candy eased his nerves a bit. It also made a shiver go down his spine, as he felt the warmth from when he held onto your hand, leaving his grasp.

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[lecsainz]

if you can make one with Travis Kelce and reader where they have a baby and reader goes into labor with the baby

ITS TIME

˒ ⌕ masterlist . . .

parings: travis kelce x wife!reader

summary: that one where you're pregnant and it's time to meet your little one.

an: I went with Travis and Y/N having a five-year-old kid. I know you asked for a baby, but I wasn't sure how to do it and I just loved how the story evolved, so I didn't have the heart to change it. Hope you like it.

type: fluff ಇ

It was a typical morning, much like many others during your pregnancy. You got up and watched your husband sleeping as you searched for your slippers to head downstairs and start making breakfast for the family, despite Travis's wishes.

Travis didn't want you to exert yourself during the pregnancy – it was the same during Aiden's and now during Ivy's.

You were beating some eggs when you heard the little steps of Aiden coming down the stairs.

"Mommy! Is today the day?" the little one asked excitedly, hugging your leg. Ever since Aiden overheard your conversation with Donna that Ivy would arrive by the end of December, he became super protective of you.

"Not yet," you said with a smile, bending down to pick up the 5-year-old.

"She's taking too long," he pouted, running his hand over your belly. "Daddy promised she'd come faster." That made you laugh, earning a scowl from your son.

"I think it's time for Daddy to wake up, don't you think?" You innocently asked Aiden.

And you watched the little one run upstairs to wake up his father.

While you were setting the coffee table, you were surprised by a pair of muscular arms hugging you from behind and a kiss on your neck from your husband.

"Good morning, dear," Travis said with a huge smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Kelce." You turned and gave him a brief kiss on the lips, receiving an "Eww" from Aiden, making both of you laugh.

The rest of the day flew by; Travis had training with the Chiefs, so you spent the afternoon playing with Aiden, who bombarded you with questions about his sister.

As soon as the clock struck six, you decided it was time to prepare dinner, but the moment you got up from the carpet where you were building Legos with Aiden, you felt liquid running down your leg.

"Mommy? Did you pee?" Aiden looked curious.

And before you could respond, you heard the garage gate opening by Travis. "Honey, I'm home!" He shouted from the garage.

"I think it's time," you told him as he walked through the kitchen door.

"Time for what?" He looked at you, clearly not understanding.

"Mommy peed," Aiden said excitedly as if sharing a secret.

"OH MY GOD, IT'S TIME!" Travis realized and started panicking. "SHOULD I CALL YOUR PARENTS? OR MINE? I NEED TO TAKE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL!" Travis began frantically searching for the phone.

You found his hysteria amusing. "Travis, your phone is in your pocket," you approached and touched his shoulder. "Everything will be fine. We've done this once, and we'll manage again," you reassured calmly.

"Oh, dear, how are you so calm?" He asked, laughing.

"I'll get Ivy's bag," you said as you headed to the adjacent office. "Call your parents to stay with Aiden at the hospital!" You yelled to Travis.

"Can I bring my Legos?" Aiden asked, holding the plastic pieces, and when Travis called his mom. "Of course, buddy."

"Is Ivy coming?" Aiden ran after you to ask. "I think she already senses that you're getting ready to be an official big brother, sweetheart," you replied to him. "Ivy is coming!" Aiden ran off excitedly.

"Are we ready?" Travis asked as he helped you to the car, despite the small delay caused by your disagreement – him wanting to carry you to the car and you preferring to walk to dilate faster. "More than ever," you said, giving your husband a kiss.

[lemotmo]

Here are my thoughts on those 911 funeral pictures that are all over social media right now...

I was talking to a mutual and they mentioned that this is definitely a Captain or Chief funeral. I just cannot believe that they would let something as big as Bobby dying leak like that. These people aren't amateurs. They have proven in the past that they know how to lock down a set completely.

They only let things leak that they want out there. Same with that leaked Buddie hug. They wanted that out there. It's free promotion as it's spread all over social media.

So what is it then?

Well, here's my theory:

They haven't locked down any of the filming they are doing with Gerrard. They are showing us Gerrard, but not Bobby. And then they let us see the funeral with that coffin? They want us to think Bobby died and Gerrard took over, but it will be the other way around.

Bobby is probably in the hospital recovering from something that happened to him during the big disaster. Hence Gerrard temporarily taking over the 118 until he's back.

I'm thinking it'll also probably be the last time Tommy shows up. Gerrard was always the link between Tommy and the 118. No more Gerrard, no more Tommy.

As for Oliver mentioning that there will be devastation for Buck this season? Who knows? Maybe Gerrard died saving him, just like he once saved Gerrard? Maybe him saving Gerrard in 8a was foreshadowing? Any you know Buck. He will most definitely feel very guilty if someone else died saving him.

Feel free to share your thoughts and theories on this. I'm curious what you think of all this.

[emsprovisions]

Happy Wednesday everyone! Today's a bit of a crazy day but I'll try and make a post about fandom memories soon! It is the cutest idea and I love it. This is a bit from the Carlos fic I've been working on, that was originally supposed to be about Carlos confronting his religious trauma, but this fic is taking me on a ride in multiple directions and I am really loving playing with it so far! So please enjoy this lengthy snippet! 💕

“Hey, babe,” TK smiles, looking at Carlos like he hung the sun, the moon, and the stars. “Hungry?”

“Yeah,” Carlos smiles. “It’s a nice day. Do y’all want to eat outside?”

“Yes!” Jonah practically vibrates in his shoes where he stands at TK’s side. “Please, Carlos!”

Carlos laughs, “alright, buddy, hang on, I just need to go grab a few things from my desk.”

A moment later, Carlos returns, placing the standard issue, white Stetson onto Jonah’s head instead of his own. The too-big hat falls over Jonah’s eyes, making him break out into a fit of giggles as he pushes it up his head. Carlos and TK smile at his immeasurable joy and lead him back the way they came, to the elevator. 

“What’s on tap for lunch today?” Carlos asks, leaning against a wall in the elevator as he and TK watch Jonah crouch low to the floor on the ride down before he jumps as high as he can as it lurches to a stop. 

“I took the leftover brisket from the other night and made sandwiches,” TK says. “There’s steak fries too.”

“Well that sounds amazing, babe,” Carlos smiles at his husband as the elevator dings and the doors seamlessly slide open, a blast of cool air from the foyer chasing them inside. 

He almost misses it as they step out into the high-eighty degree weather that can only be described as a Texas spring day in early March.

They haven’t had Jonah in their custody for too long yet. Carlos’s sick leave after he was shot taking down his father’s killer ended over a month ago. He still has a hard time chewing the unsavory former Chief Bridges’s name in his mouth. 

He’d been his father’s friend. A coworker for the better part of thirty-something years. A confidant most likely. The same man to take Carlos under his wing and march him in his father’s footsteps. 

But Carlos is doing better now. 

He has a therapist. He’s more open with his mom these days. He has TK to lean on. And he has Sam too, when he needs someone who gets it on the very same level as him. He has a fantastic support group, and with it, TK’s mentioned he’s noticed a bit of the Carlos he’d fallen in love with creeping back in. 

“You’re smiling again, baby,” TK says softly, just for Carlos to hear as they claim a picnic table under some shady trees to eat their lunch. 

“I’m happy to see you,” Carlos shrugs with a smile. 

“I’m happy to see you too,” TK’s own smile grows, love twinkling in his eyes. 

Carlos wonders sometimes if he’s dreaming up this perfect life, but he’d once told TK in front of all the people they both know and love that TK is the dream he’s never allowed himself to have. He’s allowing himself to have it now, he thinks, this life full of love for his husband and for Jonah.

Thank you for the tags @thisbuildinghasfeelings @paperstorm @lemonlyman-dotcom @everlastingday @futures-tense @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @nisbanisba @carlossreaders @bonheur-cafe @alrightbuckaroo

No pressure tags @whatsintheboxmh @ironheartwriter @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @tellmegoodbye @eclectic-sassycoweyes @butchreyes @lightningboltreader @henrygrass @rangersoup @chicgeekgirl89 @decafdino @captain-gillian @nancys-braids @welcometololaland + Open tag 🏷

[lauren-ce]

Ideal City is hilarious. The main conflict is an architecture spat between a minimalist and a maximalist, and the big issue they're fighting over is whether or not to demolish a waterslide that's in the way of a bridge. That's like, the whole plot??

Like! What the fuck am I reading?

Anyway, here's some more bits that made me laugh:

Out of context Gavial:

The psychic damage I received from seeing this character and then reading their name:

Gavial (™️):

The aforementioned maximalist and minimalist arguing over who gets to be the architect that fixes the dome they all live in:

Stitch: I don't give a fuck, do what you want with the dome.

Catch: I'm gonna make it a kaleidoscope!

Stitch: I'm gonna fucking kill you if you so much as touch MY dome

The gang decide to have a swimming race, but it's the most stupid setup of all time because the racers are:

Gavial (with an old man on her back)

Pozëmka (who never bothered to change out of her long, flowing robes)

Elysium (who has done LITERALLY nothing but get hammered since he got there)

All the while, the Durin make a big Durin tower so the Race Commentator With The Silly Name can see the racers, and the obvious happens (since they're all hammered)

And just when Gavial is about to win the race, oh my god!!! It's Minimalist with a speedboat!!!

Except he's so bad at driving that even though he wins, he loses control of his ride and crashes the boat straight into the wall (the boat is called Ale Keg, btw)

(And actually the Durin decide that the boat won, since Mininalist lost control of it)

Even when the plot actually decides to kick in (there's an Originium vein about 500m from the city that's about to explode), it does so with incredible anticlimax.

Gavial: You all need to evacuate.

300,000+ Durin: You want us to leave this Ideal City, this paradise in which we do nothing but get sloshed and play in the water, and maaaaybe work 2 hours a week? The city we build with our own hands? You want us to leave that all behind and rough it on the surface?

Gavial: Pretty much

300,000+ Durin: That seems reasonable! We don't wanna die after all. Lead the way (:

Then it comes up that Acahualla will need a new Lord Ameer to provide stability and unification (so that the rest of Sargon keeps minding their own business once all those Durin are aboveground and introducing their advanced tech to the surface)

Gavial: Hey Inam, my best buddy, remember how I made you the Great Chief at the last minute at the end of "Great Chief Returns"?

Inam: We're doing a rerun of that?

Gavial: Yeah.

Inam: So I'm the Lord Ameer now?

Gavial: Teehee~

The evacuation goes off without a hitch, and gasp! The Durin decide to stop drinking alcohol until their new, aboveground city is built.

And that's it (:

[seat-safety-switch]

Whenever there's a crime in the town that has to deal with old Japanese cars, I'm the guy they call to solve it. My name is Detective Archibald Shitpope, and this is not one of those cases. Once in awhile, and I know it's hard to believe, something happens that's not about vintage Nipponese iron.

I was hand-washing my manual-swapped '92 Sera in the parking lot of the station when I heard a loud sigh from the next car over. It was my sometimes-lunch-buddy, sometimes-drinking-buddy Investigator Lionel Tout. He came from England, as part of a "detective transfer" that involved us finally getting rid of Detective Giorgio Mustang, who I genuinely hated. Dude would sit in the detective's bullpen and make idling-cammed-V8 noises the entire time he was thinking. I hope he enjoys Luxembourg and never wants to come back.

Tout, though, was a special case. His fixation? Trains. You've got three guesses what mode of transportation we don't have in our city. Hell, a few years back, the mayor then ordered the removal of the federal cargo train lines, convinced that A) he could sell the tracks for quick cash to a metal scrapper, and B) self-driving cars would soon deliver all of our stuff. Zero for two there, hoss, which is why he was literally crucified during an elementary-school Christmas play. That wasn't on the kids. It was the janitor trying to use it as a convenient way to dispose of a body. I got the call, because he had a 4Runner, but the responding officers figured it out real fast before I got there.

Tout came to town after that. Every day, he got a little more depressed that he wasn't able to solve crimes anymore. Back in Europe, he told me, he once solved a locked-room murder mystery. An heiress (or countess, I can't remember which) had lost her crown jewels and a man died to cover it up. Big deal in all the news, but Tout made the mistake of fixating too much on the train and not enough on the press. Solved the case, but his rival on the force got the promotion to Inspector First Class and the rest is history. Now he's here, drowning his sorrows in a mug full of rum shaped like Thomas the Tank Engine. And that gave me an idea.

That night, I phoned Tout at home. "Inspector," I tried to sound as much like a frightened old dispatch-desk lady as possible, "they've found a body at Uncle Steamy's Good-Time Hobby Emporium. You better get over there right away!"

The rest was all a detective's dream: a murder scene amongst a jealous swarm of model train hobbyists. Tons of passionate suspects, all with inconvenient alibis. A spiral of clues easily missed by lesser mortals. No security camera footage. And at the end of it, a perfect accusation and a tearful confession.

As he carried a perp (Jimmy One-Shoe, formerly arrested for foot crimes at the Payless) to the squad car, he noticed something sitting on the back seat. A little scale model of a Japanese Odakyu Limited Express "Romancecar."

Merry Christmas, Inspector. If the chief asks where I've been for the last two weeks, you tell him I was doing some detective shit, alright?

[tyrantisterror]

My Childhood Wonder Grew Up

Yesterday I wrote a short post about how I had a smutty story idea that none of the friends I showed it to discouraged me from developing, and as a result it's, uh, developed into something I might actually make. And because the past two months have been ABSOLUTE HELL, especially for any other more fruitful/less smutty creative endeavors of mine, I feel the need to share something I've created to validate my existence in some way. But because this idea is, again, shamelessly smutty and self indulgent, I'm going to give you a proper warning of what you're getting into so you can back out from looking at it.

Ok... so... I'm a big Digimon fan, or at least a big fan of the first three seasons/series of Digimon anime - I feel they kind of dropped off in both story and monster design after Digimon Tamers, though they've been returning to form lately. Have you seen Dinomon? Dinomon kicks ass, even managed to supplant Plesiomon as my favorite mega.

But anyway! Digimon designs vary a lot more in aesthetics than pokemon do, but the best ones all have this cool grungy punk rock feel to them. And because Digimon was the punk rock to Pokemon's pop music, it had more edge to it. Yeah, your dinosaur buddy could evolve into a bigger dinosaur if you want, but it could also evolve into THE FUCKING DEVIL if you played your cards right/wrong. And while the Digimon animes have more or less focused on the most logical evolutions - little dinosaur becomes bigger dinosaur becomes cyborg dinosaur becomes, like, humanoid dinosaur knight - there's a part of my brain that's always thought about how you could take the "person partnered with an evolving monster" setup in a weird direction. Like, what happens if your fun monster pal digivolves into one of those nightmarish Final Boss digimons like Diaboromon or Apocalymon? What if you had a partner who digivolved into one of the "garbage" monsters, i.e. the pathetic, gross, mostly useless digimon that were a result of you sucking at playing the virtual pet game these were originally made for?

Or... I mean, I warned you this was a smutty idea... what if your digimon partner evolved into one of the hot digimons? Like any of the MANY digimons that are basically monster girl dominatrixes? What if your partner turns into LadyDevimon?

And that silly, smutty idea just rattled in my head for a while. 'Cause there's sort of a fun twist you can do on the stock "I've grown up and my childhood friend is now hot and I don't know how to process that" plotline in romance stories with it, you know? Because how does that cliche storyline change if the childhood friend in question was originally a three foot tall lizard, but now she's a nine foot tall dragon-woman?

It's a smutty idea! A terrible, shameful, smutty idea!

...

but no one's stopped me, so...

My Childhood Wonder Grew Up! is the story of five ten year olds who accidentally wandered into another world filled with monsters called wondersprites. Partnering up with five of these wondersprites, the kids went on a grand and harrowing adventure to defeat the Dread Kings, five uniquely strong and wicked wondersprites who were deadset on ruling both the World of Wonder and the human world with a tyrannical iron fist. They defeated the evil, parted with their wondersprite friends, and sealed off the World of Wonder forever, becoming celebrities in the human world in the process.

And then eight years passed.

The "Wonderkids" have graduated high school, and are all struggling with the burden of childhood fame, the gnawing fear that their lives may have peaked when they were preteens, a complete loss as to what they should do with their adult lives, and most of all, a deep sense of grief at being parted with the weird creatures they had befriended during that bizarre and wondrous childhood adventure. As they step out of childhood into adulthood, something remarkable happens.

Wondersprites reappear in the human world, chief among them are their old partners. Except their partners have grown up too, transitioning past what was thought to be the final level of their life cycle. And their new forms are... unexpected.

The leader of the "Wonderkids" was/is Ren Akari. Once a bold, confident (perhaps even overconfident) kid with a flashy and bizarre sense of fashion, Ren's lost all that brash attitude over eight years of people mocking their childhood exuberance and role as the face of the Wonderkids. Now they just want to be invisible, covering themselves in dark and muted clothing, hiding their face (and their goggles - try as they might, Ren can't give up all their childhood habits) beneath a hood, and generally trying to shrink from the public eye as best as they are able.

Their sprite, Scaly Wonder, was a sweet dragon that could match and exceed Ren's enthusiasm pound for pound. She's kept that exuberance, but in her new form it reads a bit differently than it did when she was a pudgy (if badass) dragon.

(Ren and Scaly both identified as male when they were kids, but as young adults they identify as nonbinary and female respectively).

The "bad boy" of the Wonderkids, Colt Ford was stoic, aloof, and generally had an air of being too cool for all this fantasy isekai bullshit. He was always the first to criticize Ren's leadership, but also the first to jump into the fray to help out his friends. Though he often insisted to the contrary, it was clear he cared a great deal for his friends, especially his bird-like partner, Feathery Wonder.

Colt has, unfortunately, remains distant, aloof, and closed off through his adolescence, growing into a young man who's even more shut off from his feelings than he was as a kid. That's ok, though, it's what a man's supposed to be according to his parents.

Colt's partner, Feathery Wonder, has struggled to live up to those same expectations. Though he's definitely tried to keep getting stronger like colt wanted, somewhere along the way he crashed, and his new form is... well, it's anything but strong, though it does has surprising utility in helping out the other wondersprites with mid-battle upgrades.

A tomboy whose confidence almost matched Ren's, Jaime Shannon was the heart of the group in many ways, mending disagreements between the other Wonderkids and always making sure they remembered they were in this together. Jaime was never afraid to speak her mind, and also enjoyed playfully ribbing her friends when they got too wrapped up in themselves.

Unfortunately, that confidence was relentlessly criticized when Jaime and the other Wonderkids were put in the public eye after saving the world, with many tabloids and pundits singling her out as a "bad role model." Jaime purposely tried to distance herself from her childhood personality as much as possible, becoming prim, soft-spoken, and very traditionally feminine in a hope to prove she's not the grubby tomboy everyone thought she was.

Her wondersprite partner is Shaggy Wonder, a fuzzy furball of a creature who was perhaps the most self-serious of the lot, constantly making heroic proclamations and speeches, much to Jaime's amusement. He's still like that, of course, but with his much more heroic build, he's beginning to look like he might actually live up to his own hype now.

Seymore Sullivan was a scrawny, bookish kid who tried to live up to the idea of brains beating brawn, often with very limited success. Though shy and full of insecurities, he proved an important asset to the Wonderkids, as his wealth of knowledge and analytical mind allowed him to devise strategies his fellow ten-year-olds could not think of on their own.

Seymore had a very eventful journey of self discovery after the whole Wondersprite Adventure. She goes by Siobhan now, and with that change in identity she seems to have gained all the self confidence that many of her fellow Wonderkids lost.

Siobhan's partner was Crawly Wonder, a goofy and mischievous wondersprite who took a playful and irreverent attitude to their adventure in the World of Wonder, even when things got VERY perilous. Though Crawly loves putting people off kilter, they're a little worried their newest transition might be too much - it looks a little terrifying, doesn't it?

(Siobhan/Seymore identified as male when she was young but now identifies as female, while Crawly Wonder was and is nonbinary)

A girly girl through and through, Cassie (yes, Cassie, ignore the name I wrote on the paper, this is all a work in progress and shit will change) Vasquez may have been a bit whiny in the eyes of her peers, but she also had the strongest moral core out of all of them, and was the most successful at winning other sprites over to their side and away from the rule of the Dread Kings. She proved again and again that her femininity was an asset, aided by the help of her surprisingly versatile aquatic wondersprite.

Cassie has grown up to be a bit less traditionally feminine, though she would say her love of all things lady has only grown with age. She picks and chooses aspects of various alternative lifestyles that suit her - a little hippie here, a little punk there, etc. - and of all the Wonderkids, she's the one who most openly pines for the World of Wonder, even sporting several tattoos in explicit honor of her wondersprite partner.

Said sprite, Slippy Wonder, was invaluable in the water as would be expected, but also surprisingly capable of holding her own on land, battering enemies with her venomous tentacles. Slippy also openly pines for a reunion with Cassie, and is even more overjoyed than the others that the World of Wonder is connected to the human world again.

While the return of wondersprites to the human world is, ostensibly, the conflict that the Wondernot-quite-kids and their partners need to solve, the meat of My Childhood Wonder Grew Up lies in how their relationships to each other have changed now that they've grown up. Sure, there's a new Wondersprite Adventure for them to solve, with threats both old and new alike to deal with and a big mystery to solve, but all of that is hard to focus on for our no-longer-kid protagonists. As much as it seems like their childhood is back again, can it really be when they themselves have changed so much?

And also... are they gonna smooch those monsters? 'Cause some of them are... oddly smoochable.

...so yeah, that's the smutty little idea I've come up with and no one has stopped me yet. None of this is set in stone, naturally - I might age up the kids a bit, for example. Like, 18 feels thematically appropriate, it's the official transition point between childhood and adulthood, and graduating high school feels like a potent time to explore the feelings of leaving childhood behind and entering adulthood... but also I'm thirty-six and 18 doesn't really feel like an adult age to me now, even if legally it is, you feel me? Twenty would feel more appropriate, even if it's a less thematically interesting age.

And either way this probably won't come to fruition for, like, MANY years yet - when I get back my writing mojo I will be going right back to Maude and Mordi, and Wizard School Mysteries still has five books to go yet, and Dark Chivalry needs to fit in there somewhere too, not to mention a polished version of At Sea Without a Map and the 10th anniversary special editions of No Sympathies and ATOM Volumes 1 and 2...

But someday, maybe, we'll see this become a thing. A smutty, smutty thing.

[nights-at-crystarium]

While I'm ancient-trio-posting, wanna hear a bit about their dynamic?

Hythlodaeus and Hades are old friends, roommates, even. A genuinely mature, established couple. I haven't really thought too far back in time yet, so maybe childhood friends to lovers because no one else in my story has this trope yet. I leave it open-ended for now. What matters is that they're very chill and stable together.

Azem, not-yet-Azem but a mere apprentice of Venat, has a certain secret, harmless to the world, but potentially ranging from laughable, cringy, personally embarrassing to legally punishable, should it be brought in front of the Convocation, like all lies it's doomed to be revealed in time, he already hangs out with one of the Big People and there are talks about Venat's retirement, our little not-yet-Azem feels like he might get recommended, and must find help with his silly secret before that.

Hythlodaeus, Chief of the Bureau of the Architect, has ever been kind and patient with not-yet-Azem's concept submissions, and generally seems like a reliable and open-minded person, so our guy asks for his advice on the matter. Of course he isn't let down, the nitty gritty of it I'll leave for later. The important part: he and Hyth grow closer, and Hades, already being joined at the hip with Hyth, is in on the secret as well. It's just a vulnerability that I use as a means to win over Hades's heart. Be genuine, beg for his help, rely on him, and he's yours.

Venat retires, the new Azem takes the seat, his secret's safe/resolved (forget about it, it's played its role of the glue for our trio), things are chill for a while, the trio grows into a proper throuple, Hades is recommended for the seat of Emet-Selch by both his lovers, but by Azem most ardently (and selfishly: he feels like a white crow among the Convocation and wants another freak on the team. Hades finds it sweet though).

The status quo moves to the known canon where Azem travels a lot, sometimes summons his buddies to his side, he tends to disappear from Amaurot for weeks and months on end, Hyth and Hades are left to themselves, seemingly things are the same as they've always been, but the joy of reuniting with their wayward lover, and the pining when he's gone, is bigger in Hades than Hyth. Of course they, the two mature people holding hands from the beginning of times, don't discuss this.

Azem may not even realize what he's doing- well, ain't that most azems in a nutshell. He just exists, loves his partners, shines for them with equal warmth like sun. It's not that Hyth doesn't like being sunkissed, no, it's Hades who gets a bit too excited, tries to mask that however he can, perhaps HythHades pretend that nothing's changed, but, yknow, subtle cracks. Hades's heart grows more fond due to the time and distance that separate them so often. Of course he's terrified and he sees what this does to the balance of their poly, it's not welcome, but it won't go away.

Enter Hyth's self-esteem issues, and how neatly that weaves into his following sacrifice to bring forth Zodiark. Even though Azem's nowhere to be seen, it's fine, he'll return, it's just a tantrum, the Convocation will forgive him, Hades will be left in good hands, he and Azem seem to be happier without Hyth anyway. (no, no, no, no-) Of course, the latter's left unsaid, only a smile on display and vague words of affirmation for the shellshocked Hades.

Through the sacrifice Hyth drives up his value. He's forever important to Hades now, forever on his mind, his guiding star. I view Hyth's selfless act as selfish too (just as Raha's but he isn't relevant here), a desperate act of a soul not only loving, but desperate for love. Hyth gets what he wanted. In a fucked up way, he's happier as a part of the moon. He never has to contend with the sun again.