#and telling them WHY we need certain pieces of information

[theintrovertedintrovert]

I'm a registrar for a school. There's a shit ton of paperwork and information collection that is required by the state for licensing purposes.

I'm basically in charge of purgatory for parents who want their 3 year old in school, but refuse to read the instructions for the required forms. They must fill them CORRECTLY before I can enroll their student.

never forget the universal rule of the order of things: People Will Not Read It

[tastesousweet]

⭒ crush

| hamzahthefantastic x youtuber!reader au

summary: hamzah has a crush that is extremely obvious to everyone except you ... somehow?! (both written & smau!!!)

a/n: happy new years!!!!!!

— march 2024

hamzah is hungry beyond belief.

martin's already assured him both over facetime and text that he's on his way with their full course meal of chinese takeout— currently sat in the basket of martin's rented bike, jostling up and down with every bump of the toronto pavement without a doubt. yet his stomach is still throwing a tantrum, depraved of any nutrients while his brain repeats in a neanderthal-like manner "food. coming. soon." in hopes of reducing the pressure within his poor stomach.

he opens instagram, needing some sort of an escape, because naturally a little doom-scrolling will ease his (dramatic but still very real) pain. somehow, among the ridiculous animal reels and comedic twitch clips on his explore feed, he stumbles upon a reel from you. a girl with a different quality and charm to your face and character than anything he's seen in other content creators.

not only does your bubbly yet elegant voice keep him watching but the subject matter is rather fitting— you're cooking a homemade chicken pot pie for the first time. in the video you talk about how often your mother would prepare it growing up and now it's become a popular craving for you. hamzah watches intently as if he were ready to get up and make his own pot pie alongside you.

"hey! the hell are you smiling at?" martin's voice is breathy due to his trek to and from the chinese restaurant. he walks into the living room holding a crinkly plastic bag reading: "thank you! have a nice day!" with that big, yellow smiley face in between.

"huh? nothin'." hamzah dismisses and adjusts himself on the couch, "come on, 'm starving!" he reaches his hand out to take the food from martin before patting the seat next to him.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— june 2024

"so when are you gonna come see us?"

it was a surprise to see hamzah follow you on instagram a few months ago. you'd heard his name thrown around in certain spaces of the internet but never really indulged in any of his content.

his instagram had the format of a shitposting ten-year-old but it only made you curious about the humorous twenty-something. eventually you'd watched a youtube video of his; completely laughing your ass off and finding your eyes chasing after hamzah whenever he was in even the tiniest of frames.

it was never a serious crush by any means, just a nice piece of secret eye-candy who also happened to have a great personality and an enviously good work ethic (the effort martin and hamzah put into their videos was astonishing to you).

so you were quite nervous to be the first to dm him, in hopes of a friendship or a least a quick exchange of "hey." it was only right — you two had been liking each other's poss and stories a consistent amount.

the mellow first exchange between the two of you in april blossomed into you both constantly talking in your free time; your friendship quickly to developed a flirty back-and-forth dynamic that sometimes borders on way more than platonic. eventually martin was added to your consistent facetime calls and you’ve even let them convince you to create a discord account to play minecraft and grand theft auto online with them.

and now you’re lying on your leather couch with both of their faces displayed in your laptop’s screen, eager to hear your response.

“i don’t know…” you play with a loose end of the sweater you’re wearing, “what would we even do?”

they both stay quiet for a moment before hamzah laughs, “why are you acting like you don’t wanna say yes right now?”

a smile slowly grows on your face “okay… gimme a second,” you begin to google flight information to and from toronto.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— september 2024

yourusername

Liked by clairedrake, hamzahthefantastic, and others

yourusername Y’all didn’t tell me they get wild in the 6 , Omg??!! Highly requested video out neow <3

View all comments

chaserutherford 🍽️8️⃣ • ♥︎ by author

yourusername I rlly do miss u already 😖😖😖😖

ynfan01 ohhhh this was so necessary thank u mother☺️!! • ♥︎ by author

yourusername Mhm!!! Olivia Wilde head nod 💞💞

slushieeee333 y/n: slurping pasta , hamzah the whole time: 😊👀😍😊

thatmartinkid hey look ma i made it!!! 🫵😂 • ♥︎ by author

ynsnumberone THE FLIRTING WENT CRAZYYYYY

slushedyn her and hamzah are obsessed with each other i fear

thatslushykid COME BACK 2 TORONTO ASAP I NEED MORE COLLABS RN!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

hamzahluver45 ok but like it’s so obvious that her trying to flirt was just irritating them the whole time !! Like girl ..💀💀

hamzahthefantastic Posting our dms is already one thing , but TAGGING ME is actually crazy 🤔🤔 • ♥︎ by author

yourusername R u mad @ me Bby???? 😕

hamzahthefantastic BruhLmaooooooooooo

freakzahfan that's one too many "o"s just say u wanna kiss her my boy

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“oh!” you accidentally trip over yourself while walking backwards and stumble into hamzah, who was standing in front of the unfamiliar grocery store, watching you prepare to give an intro. “jesus,” martin laughs under his breath from behind the camera. he lowers the camera, showing his feet but still picking up his voice in the mic, “you good?!”

the clip cuts to you stood upright again, "i'm in the six!!!" you exclaim loudly, raising your arms above your head. "and i'm here with slushy noobz to add to my series where other creators "teach me" their specialty. you tug at hamzah's arm and pull him into the frame with you, "hamzah tell them what you and martin are gonna teach me," you look up a him while still holding onto his arm. you interrupt him before he even begins to speak, "oh yeah! martin is also here by the way!" you point and martin flips the camera to himself. "they're just leaving me out it's fine, i know i'm out already, just vote just vote," he references with a sigh before turning it back to you and hamzah. "don't start! chase is on his way to come and film for us-" "listen! this is our plan-- we're gonna teach you how to mukbang; everyone knows we're very qualified in this field and know everything there is to know about the subject, so, uhh, yeah we're kinda experts. i dont know, would you say that, martin?" hamzah rambles. "yeah, i think that's a good way to describe us" "perfect! then you're teachin' me how to kiss next, right?" you ask. hamzah goes from looking at you attentively (hanging onto your every word) to a face deadpanned as he glances over to martin trying not to smile.

the video cuts to a clip with the three of you, finally, all in one shot now that chase is behind the camera. you pull a cart out from its slot and push yourself on it before standing both feet on top of the tiny foot bar, gliding through the automatic doors.

next, a clip of martin speaking to the camera while you and hamzah look through different pasta sauces together, "okay we didn't really explain this well but essentially we're all going to cook a nice dish and then eat it together in front of you guys. isn't that cute?" "yeah, can't wait for us to mukbang together" hamzah speaks. martin turns back to the camera with a smirk, "i bet you wish you were mukbanging with us huh, chase?" "no. and you just made that word up." martin's face falls.

the entire grocery shopping trip is filmed with little moments like hamzah mispronouncing a few brand names, martin talking to strangers about which pasta noodle to try, and you randomly walking off into estranged aisles "just to see if things are really different here"

now, you're all back at martin's home; you read aloud the recipe and hamzah is stood practically on top of you as he also looks down at the phone, all while martin lays ingredients out of the counter. "okay simple enough," hamzah says. "yeah, and you're still gonna make me do all of the work anyway," martin huffs sarcastically. you giggle a bit, "martin the most you'll have to do is boil water, i'll force him to do the rest." "huh???!! who??" hamzah questions, his smiley face “accidentally” leaning far too close to yours. "you, duh!" you laugh and turn away to look for a large pot.

throughout the cooking process you slowly stop helping; talking to mandy while you two eat chips and salsa while leaning on the counter or petting the pets instead of doing any of the tasks given to you from the self-proclaimed chefs.

"this is literally your video! what the hell y/n?!" martin whines when he finds you and mandy making a tiktok in his "man cave" together after you'd told them you were going to the bathroom, "seriously mandy?" all of the audio can be heard from the mics on your clothing. "where was she?" hamzah says monotonous as he scrolls on his phone. "making freaking tiktoks with mandy of course!" you giggle as you walk into the kitchen behind him, "what? the food is practically done, we're just waiting on garlic bread!" you shrug and hamzah immediately turns at the sound of your voice. "well, you gonna at least show us?" hamzah asks casually placing his hands on the counter around you, trapping you in the space between him and the marble surface. "yeah," you tilt your head so you can look at his face as you make fun of his not-so-friendly gesture, "you wanna keep breathing down my neck like that while i show you?" he laughs and moves away to cover up the embarrassment of being called out. "stop!" you laugh and bring him back into frame forcing him and martin to watch you and mandy dance on your phone screen.

the four of you sit on the carpet with plates full of chicken alfredo and pieces of garlic bread laid out on martin’s coffee table. you all talk about your experience in toronto so far, how you and hamzah first met, … et cetera.

martin attempts to teach you canadian slang: “keener is big here.” “actually? what the hell does that even mean?” “it’s kinda like a try hard— people will call you a keener if you’re doing too much, basically.” “wait tell me more!” “i mean things like buddy is way too common here. some random old guys will call me that and it always throws me off??” “yeah they always say it so demeaning,” hamzah laughs. “do you guys actually say ‘eh?’ all the time? i feel like i haven’t noticed it a lot.” you ask genuinely. “i won't lie.. i say it more often than i like to admit!” mandy says. you’ve noticed that no matter if you’re the one speaking or not hamzah’s eyes keep glancing and sometimes full on staring at you (he really doesn’t mean to but he thinks he’s finally processing that you’re actually here with them after months of wanting this) you're flattered nonetheless.

at some point hamzah and martin recreate a scene in lady and the tramp, successfully slurping at the same noodle until hamzah retreats and martin sighs at his lack of commiting to the bit. you laugh along before asking hamzah’s to share a noodle with you with a smile slapped over your face, “me next?” he fights off any blushing with a roll of his eyes and his response of, “yeah? ask me again in a sec.”

after you’ve all finished eating, you complete the video with a big smile and a promise of more collaborations in the future.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

•••

[miniseokminnies]

homemade dynamite —- c.hs

☀︎ pairing: chwe hansol/vernon x fem!reader ☀︎theme: actor!vernon, director!reader ☀︎ w/c: 8k ☀︎ warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, smut, strangers to co workers to lovers, Vernon causing problems for his boss, deeply inappropriate use of a lake, semi public sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (that's a no no), semi-public sex, dry humping, angst if you squint, feelings of being lost ☀︎ a/n: written as part of the That's Showbiz, Baby! collab put on by @studioeisa and @diamonddaze01 - make sure to check out the full collab masterlist and find your coworkers! this fic directly alligns with @chanranghaeys ceo lee chan fic! thanks all of my people who had to hear my near daily crash outs about this insane vernon fic i wrote, can't thank them enough: @seungkw1, @lovetaroandtaemin, @haologram, and the entire cast of That's Showbiz, Baby! as always likes, reblogs, AND COMMENTS are greatly appreciated! enjoy!

From: souldirector@gmail.com To: vchwe.business@sebong.outlook.com Subject: Interest in Audition 

Hi there! My name is Y/N L/N and I am a film director.  You may have seen my work at the Diamond Film Festival last month.  I am currently in the process of casting my next project and thought that Vernon could potentially be a great fit in the lead role.   I have attached the audition script and a brief synopsis of the storyline to this email. Please let me know if this seems like the type of project Vernon would be interested in, I would love to see what he brings to the character!   I know this is potentially a busy time but if there is interest feel free to ask any questions! I will be holding auditions on June 30 at the Maestro Event Space! Regards,  Y/N L/N Director  

“Absolutely not.” Vernon had hardly finished reading the email before he heard the stern voice of the CEO in the doorway.  

“Why not?” Vernon challenged as he leveled his gaze at Chan and slumped in the old computer chair.  His fingers found a peeling piece of fake leather and he began to pick at it.

“We need to focus on getting you in projects with bigger names,” Chan eyed Vernon ripping up the chair.  “Not working with nobody directors who are making a movie with a cast of two.” 

“Damn, you even read the synopsis?” Vernon clicked his tongue.  “Wanted to be informed when telling me no, huh?”   

“Vernon,” Chan sighed.  “Don’t be like that, I just want what’s best for your career.” 

“Do I have any auditions coming up?” 

“Well–” Chan blanched under Vernon’s scrutiny. “No.” 

“Well, maybe I do now.” Vernon pushed away from the desk and pushed past his boss.  

You let out a sigh of frustration as you backspaced the email in front of you for the sixth time.  It had been four days since you emailed Vernon’s business account with no response.  Time to expand your search and reluctantly not have all your eggs in one basket.  Hence the attempt at emailing Jeonghan Yoon, another actor you could see playing the part.  

However, you had your heart set on your leading man being Vernon Chwe, so this email was not coming together.  Sure, you could just copy and paste the email to Vernon and change it a bit but…that was for him not Jeonghan. In the middle of your seventh attempt at getting it right your computer pinged with a notification.  An email from Vernon.  

From: vchwe.business@sebong.outlook.com To: souldirector@gmail.com   Subject: Re: Interest in Audition  Hey Y/N This project seems like a really cool concept.  See you on 6/30.  - V

You deleted the email to Jeonghan.

You straightened out the extra copies of the audition script for the millionth time since you set them out five minutes ago.  To say you were nervous was an understatement.  This was the first time you had held auditions with confirmation a certain actor would show up, instead of just a small glimmer of hope.  You weren’t sure what to do with that confirmation.

Preproduction for you was always a one woman show, you were the only one you trusted with your vision after all.  Soul Meets Body was no exception, this movie was something you had been passively writing through your past projects, just waiting for the right time for it to come to life.  The cast was small, the team was small, but the story would make a big impact if all went according to your plans.  Vernon had agreed to audition, so your plan was going really well so far.  You knew you wanted to be a part of this since you saw his acting a few years ago.  

A quiet knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts.  

“Hi there,” a young woman peaked in the door.  “I hope I didn’t interrupt, I just wanted to make sure I was in the right place!”  

“Yes, I’m ready for you if you’re ready for me!” You plastered on a smile. She shuffled into the room and handed you her resume. Taking a deep breath she began the monologue you planned.  

People filtered through slowly throughout the day.  Some impressive, and some not so much.  You had a book full of notes by the time the last hour of auditions rolled around.  There weren’t many people who showed up, but enough to give you some options.  You glanced at the clock and nervousness panged in your chest.  Vernon had not shown up yet. 

You rose from the table and began pacing the length of the room.  There were a few actors that came today that could play the role.  Casting someone else would change the feel of the project, but it wouldn’t ruin it.  Even so, your thoughts began to spiral through potential matches in the people who auditioned today.  

Someone cleared their throat behind you. 

You whipped around to see Vernon in the doorway.  

“Am I too late?” He fidgeted with the sleeves of his button up shirt. 

“Absolutely not!” 

From: souldirector@gmail.com To: vchwe.business@sebong.outlook.com Subject: Official Offer  Good Afternoon! I am extremely excited to offer you the role of Adam in my upcoming project, Soul Meets Body! Should you accept, filming begins on July 20, 2025.  Please let me know if you have any questions or would like to discuss this offer further.  Please accept or decline by July 10, 2025.  Looking forward to hearing what you decide! Y/N L/N  Director 

 Vernon spun in the office chair as his coworkers filtered into the board room.  The monthly meetings were new, some futile effort from Chan to make everyone feel united or something. 

“Good morning Vernon!” Seokmin, the A&R, beamed at him.  Vernon delivered a half-hearted salute to the man, his coffee hadn’t kicked in yet.  Following Seokmin, Mingyu and Minghao burst into the room, quietly bickering, probably about something Mingyu posted on the company social media that wasn’t quite image appropriate. Seungkwan was at Mingyu’s heels yelling something about public image being everything.  Mingyu effectively ignored his reprimands and beelined for the coffee maker.  Seungkwan plopped down in the chair next to Vernon.  

“Can you believe that guy?” He hissed.  Vernon chuckled at his friend’s dismay.  

“Yeah I can actually, didn’t you help hire him?” Vernon pointed out.  

“That’s not the point!” Seungkwan sat up straight. “The point is that he–”  His rant was cut short by Chan entering the room with the CFO and clapping his hands loudly.  The CFO scurried into a seat next to Minghao.  

“Alright everybody!” Chan started.  “Today’s agenda is pretty slim, just focusing on updates for the upcoming month.” He gestured to Seokmin, “Let’s start here.” 

“Well! Things are exciting here in the A&R world!” Seokmin began. Vernon tuned out quickly, he didn’t really care to know the inner workings of the company, just as long as he was getting jobs.  All he had to look forward to right now was seeing you again and the start of filming.  He had looked up the location for filming on his phone last night before bed, out in the woods somewhere, outside a rural town about an hour’s drive from his apartment.   

He thought about how your hair would look when the sun caught it, about you behind the camera.  He leaned his head back onto the chair, the ceiling tiles stared back at him.  He sighed in the fluorescent lights.  Maybe several months out in the woods would do him some good.  Away from Mingyu’s burnt coffee and Seungkwan’s dramatics.  He just needed to figure out how to not act like a total loser around you.  

“Vernon?” Chan’s voice cut through his swirling thoughts.  

“Hm?” He sat up to see everyone staring at him.  

“Your updates?” Chan narrowed his eyes.  

“Oh, uh,” he adjusted his posture in the chair.  “I start filming a new movie in two weeks.” There were murmurs of “congratulations” around the room.  Seokmin was beaming at him again.  

“Yes,” Chan said through gritted teeth.  “So we won’t be seeing much of Vernon for the next few months, everyone wish him luck.  He was adamant that this project was something he wanted to be a part of.”   

After a few more mundane announcements Chan dismissed the meeting.  Everyone began filtering out slowly.  As Vernon rose from his chair he felt a hand circle his wrist and tug him back down.  He fell back into the chair and looked over at Seungkwan.  

“Is this that director you’re obsessed with?” 

“Define obsessed.” Vernon avoided the question.  

“Seriously.” Seungkwan deadpanned.  

“I wouldn’t say obsessed.” Vernon shrugged.  “I admire her work and her ideas.” “So you’re in love with her.” Seungkwan rolled his eyes.  “Try not to make a fool out of yourself for once, okay?” 

“Good morning everyone!” You beamed at the complete cast and crew.  “Welcome to the first table read of Soul Meets Body!” There were cheers around the room.  You made eye contact with everyone who gathered to help you make this movie.  “We’re going to do just a casual table read today, just to get a feel for the project and the people involved.” 

You sat and began reading the scene setting directions in your script.  You felt his eyes on you, even without looking up you knew he was watching you instead of following along in his own copy of the script.  

His voice rang out as soon as you were finished reading, his first line coming out of his mouth as if this was the role he was born to play.  You smiled to yourself as you listened to Vernon and Leah work through the scene for the first time as a team.  Stealing a glance at him, he was focused, professional.  The highlighter you provided was perched in his fingers delicately, he twirled it absentmindedly every so often.  

Eventually, the script was read front to back and people were mingling in the room.  You watched everyone with a smile on your face.  

“Here you go.” Vernon’s voice came from beside you.  He held out the piece of paper with his name typed on it to you.  “Thanks,” you placed the name card on top of your own, starting a pile.  “Great work today.” You smiled. 

“Oh,” he chuckled, “Thanks, the script is so cool, I’m excited.” 

“Well thanks for being a part of helping it come to life.”         

Filming started a few weeks after the table read, and everything went better than you could have imagined.  You weren’t sure what to do with all the excitement of this dream coming true for you.  Leah and Vernon had a natural chemistry about them, you could believe their story, even though you wrote it. 

You packed up your supplies as the rest of the crew thinned out and headed out for the day.  The boxes of supplies, props, and your cameras piled high and you contemplated how you would get it all to its rightful places.  

“You need help?” Vernon once again was at your side, also eyeing the large amount of your supplies.  

“That would be great actually.” You sighed.  He nodded simply and picked up a few stackable boxes.  You slung your camera bags over your shoulders and grabbed the remaining box.  “My cameras and stuff will go in my truck but the boxes go in the cabin!” You called out to him.  

“Got it!” He affirmed from in front of you.  The two of you made your way to the cabin and he pushed the door open with his foot.  He set his boxes down and then turned to take yours.  His fingers brushed yours as you let him take it off your hands.  

“Thanks, that would’ve taken way longer without you.” You sighed, patting your pockets looking for the key to the cabin.  You found it in your back pocket.  

“Oh no worries, gotta help your director where you can.” He shrugged and shuffled out of the cabin so you could lock up.  “I was really excited when you emailed me, you know?” He confessed, kicking the gravel under his feet.

“You were?” You tried to level your voice, you didn’t want to sound like some weird fangirl.  

“Oh yeah,” He smiled at you as the two of you made your way toward your car. “I kind of don’t shut up about how much I like your stuff.” 

“God,” you blushed.  “I emailed you because I think your acting is so perfect for this.” “I guess you could call us a couple of fans, then.” He smiled at the color in your cheeks. 

You straightened the blanket slung across the back of the couch.  That wasn’t right, you took it off and threw it more casually.  A whine of frustration escaped your lips, this had to look realistic. 

“Are you okay?” A voice piped up behind you, making you jump.  You spun around to see Vernon in the doorway to the cabin, two coffees in his hands.  

“You’re early.” You clutched your chest.  

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said softly, taking a few steps toward you. He held out one of the coffees to you.  “I was up so I thought I’d provide your caffeine for the morning.” He looked between you and the coffee.  “I just guessed what you’d like.” He smiled sheepishly. 

“Thanks,” you smiled back at him.  “I’m, uh, set dressing.  I usually do this alone before anyone gets here.”  He nodded and you took the coffee from him.  He began walking around the couch scanning the blanket.  

“You’re trying to make it look lived in?” He looked up from the scene at you. You nodded back at him.  “Let’s try this then.”  He set his coffee down on the small table at the side of the room and sat down on the couch, wrapping himself in the blanket.  You stared at the back of his head and pulled out your polaroid camera. 

The sound of the shutter broke the momentary silence in the cabin.  Vernon threw the blanket off of his shoulders onto the back of the couch as you threw the small photo into a drawer of the prop hutch.  Vernon picked up his coffee and gestured to the blanket.  

“I feel stupid, I could have done that.” You carefully returned the camera to its carrying case.  

“Sometimes you just need a new perspective.” He smiled.  “What’s this?” 

“Oh, it’s just a polaroid camera.” You looked up at him.  “I like to take pictures and hide them around for me, or someone, to find later.  Kind of like a physical reminder of memories I guess.”  

“You have such a wonderful mind.”    

“Rachel, you know I love you, please just talk to me!” 

You watched Vernon and Leah through the monitor as they played out the scene in front of you.  Vernon was more perfect for this part than you could have imagined.  He brought a creativity to each scene that was so distinctly him.  

When you cut, you invited the two of them behind the camera to watch the scene.  Vernon pushed his hand through his hair and let Leah walk over ahead of him.  You were satisfied with their performance but Vernon requested one more shot.  He felt like he wasn’t as natural as he could have been.  

Throughout the rest of the day he stole glances at you whenever he could get away with it.  He was so impressed with your dedication to your craft.  You dressed every scene yourself, you knew how you wanted everything to look, sometimes pieces he would have never even thought of.    

“Oh let me help you!” Vernon rushed to you after filming had wrapped for the day and took the box of supplies from your hands. You sent him a thankful smile and picked up another box.  “Where are we taking these?”   

“The back room,” you tilted your head toward the cabin up the access road.  He nodded and started up toward it.  You followed him up.  He set down the box inside the cabin and reached for the one in your hands.  

“Need anything else?” He asked sheepishly.  

“No, I don’t think so.” You looked up at him.  He shuffled his feet on the gravel road as the two of you walked away from the cabin.

“Okay well,” He smiled as you approached your car.  

“I might stay for a bit,” you blurted out.  “If you want to keep me company?” He nodded enthusiastically.  The sun was starting to set as the two of you walked further along the road.  You could see the lake from the outskirts of the forest where the gravel makes way for a small one lane road, your production shut down traffic access for the month it will take to film.  No one really came out this way anymore so it wasn’t a hard sell to the small town.

“Excited to film in there.” Vernon stated simply, nodding toward the lake and stuffing his hands in his pockets.  You followed his gaze.

“Yeah,” You chuckled.  “You might freeze your ass off.” 

“Worth it, as long as you get the shot.” He looked back to you and winked.  You couldn’t help the blush that spread over your cheeks.  He watched you squirm for just a moment before continuing forward, onto the road.  “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” You blinked at the sudden change in subject.  

“Oh, um,” you thought.  “I know a lot of constellations.” You shrugged.  

“Teach me?” He looked over his shoulder at you.  Sure why not you thought to yourself and gestured to the road in front of you as you sat down.  You sat cross legged as Vernon occupied the space next to you. He leaned back on his hands and stretched his legs out in front of him.  

“So,” you started.  “Those three stars,” you pointed toward the sky. “They are the handle of the Big Dipper, which expands into Ursa Major.”  Vernon nodded quietly beside you, shuffling closer so he could see where exactly you were pointing.  You could hear his breathing, slowing now because he was focused. 

“Wait,” he whispered.  He scooted behind you. “Do you mind?” You shook your head and he tucked himself behind you.  He spread his legs so you were nestled between them and once again stretched them out in front of you.  “Show me again.” His breath fanned across your neck as he leaned his chin on your shoulder.

“There,” you were sure he could hear the waver in your voice.  He followed the line of your arm with his eyes and searched the sky for the three stars you were referencing.  

“Oh I see it!” You could hear the smile in his voice.  “And that connects to Ursa Major.” You nodded, pleased that he remembered.  “Ursa means bear.” He stated, you weren’t sure if he was telling you or reminding himself. 

“Oh you speak Latin now?” You teased.  He shrugged behind you.  

“There’s lots you don’t know about me, yet.” Your stomach swirled at the implication. 

“Okay, tell me something.” You twisted slightly to try and look at him.  He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist, effectively preventing you from turning fully.  You tried to steady your breathing, surprised at his boldness.  You felt a bit like a teenager, not like an adult who is making the breakthrough movie of their career.

“I think my boss might hate me,” His low voice rumbled through you.  

“What?” You laid your head back onto his shoulder and stared up at the night sky, the stars winking at you through the trees.  

“He was really against me doing this project.” He admitted quietly.  “It was an argument up until the first day of filming.”  You stiffened at the confession. He rubbed soothing circles into your shirt.  “I’m Lee Chan’s problem child, always have been.” He sighed.  “Doesn’t matter that I’m older than him.  He always has his tabs on me, very much wanting to keep my career linear.”   

“What do you mean?” “He’d much rather I not take risks.” Vernon admitted.  “I don’t think of you as a risk, I know how good you are at what you do.  Chan does not.” 

“I feel like a lot of people don’t know.” You mumbled, a feeling of inadequacy settling in your stomach. 

“What are you talking about?” His grip on your waist tightened.  “You are so talented, your work is some of my favorite stuff.”  

“But getting started was a risk.” You told him.  “My parents are still worried that it won’t work out, but what would I do if not this.” You closed your eyes.  Vernon had this way of making you so comfortable that you were able to admit your fears.  

“I think you’re doing just fine.” He whispered as he moved his chin from your shoulder.  “Y/N you’re so talented and you have such a unique way of telling the story you have in mind.” 

“Sometimes I wonder if there’s anyone out there who understands my vision.” You wriggled out of his grasp so you could turn to face him.  His hair was falling into his eyes and he was looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just to teach him about the constellations.  “But I think you do.”  

“If I didn’t believe in you or this project I wouldn’t have worked so hard to be a part of it.” He moved closer to you, like the two of you were magnets and he might die if he wasn’t touching you.  His fingers gently moved your hair behind your ear and lingered there. “Y/N, can I kiss you?” 

You nodded dumbly.  

The kiss started slowly, tenderly.  His lips moved tentatively against yours, evident that he had been thinking about this for a while.  He cupped your cheek with his hand. You reached out and tangled your fingers through his hair, pulling a small noise from Vernon’s throat.  He pulled you closer and deepened the kiss, he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip and you opened up for him.  He licked into your mouth, he tasted like tea and vaguely like tobacco.

Vernon moved his hands to your waist, fingers slipping underneath your shirt ever so slightly.  His calloused fingers dragged roughly on your soft skin, you shivered at the contact.  He continued to move closer to you until he was laying you back gently.  Your head settled on the road and Vernon’s weight was on you.  Everywhere was Vernon, everything was him, you weren’t sure you cared.  

He moved to attach his lips to your neck.  He left sloppy open mouth kisses from below your ear to your collarbone.  There was a distinct dull ache between your legs, you attempted to press them together to get any kind of relief but Vernon was there instead.  He returned his mouth to yours and experimentally rolled his hips into yours.  You whined into his mouth, encouraging him to continue.  

“You sound so beautiful when you make that sound.” He grunted above you. He continued to rock his hips into yours, weakly stimulating your clit.  It wasn’t enough, but it would do.  Pleasure mounted weakly in your belly as his cock grew hard in his jeans.  He buried his face in your neck, you could feel his short breaths on your skin.  

For a moment he pressed his hips down and let you grind up into him. The friction against your cunt was delicious.  You rolled your hips faster, chasing a high you weren’t sure was coming.  Too many barriers.  Suddenly, he brought his hips back to yours with a snap.  

“Vernon,” you whined breathily. 

“Hansol,” He breathed to you.  “Call me Hansol.” He nearly begged.  

“H-Hansol, more, need more.” His hips sputtered at your request and he languidly rolled his hips into you at a quicker pace.  If you felt like a high schooler before, it was tenfold now.  You would feel stupid about how quickly you hurtled toward the edge with nothing but some dry humping, if the hard press of his clothed cock didn’t feel so good.  

Vernon felt the bite of the stray gravel on his knees, but he didn’t care, not with the delicious sounds of the beautiful girl writhing underneath him.  He’d tend to the bruises tomorrow.

You furiously flipped through your copy of the script, the pages all dog eared and highlighted.  Vernon eyed you from the opposite side of the small couch on set.  He watched you grow more frustrated as you went back and forth between pages. 

“Hey.” He called out softly.  You glanced over to him, catching his warm gaze.  Vernon lightly pulled your legs over his lap.  “What’s going on in your head?” An exasperated groan left your lips and you let your script fall over your face as he pulled you closer.    

“I need something besides lighting to visually cue the shift in time.” You grumbled from beneath the papers.  “Like, the scenes after Leah dies will be blue toned, but you can’t just look the exact same…”  Vernon hummed.  You peaked out from behind the script.  He was staring off into the distance, clearly thinking.  

“I could shave my head.” He shrugged.  You scrambled up, the script fluttering to the floor.  

“What?” You blinked at him.  

“I could shave my head.” He repeated, as if it was obvious. He dragged his fingers soothingly over your exposed legs.

“Like,” you shivered at the gentle touches. “A buzz?” He nodded.  “I couldn’t make you do that.”

“I suggested it, Y/N.” He chuckled.  You leaned forward and captured a piece of the hair framing his face between your fingers.  Vernon watched you carefully consider his hair, pushing it out of his eyes.  He saw the shift from yourself to director of this movie in the way your eyes narrowed at him.  

“If you’re sure…” You mumbled.  He nodded dumbly, willing to do anything to make this project successful.  Your eyes flicked to his lips and back to his hair. 

“I’m sure,” He licked his lips.  “I want this to be the best movie you’ve ever made.” 

“Seems like a selfish desire, Hansol” You leaned closer to him. 

“Maybe I’m a selfish man.” He cracked a cocky smile before lightly pressing his lips to yours.  You melted into his touch and allowed him control of the kiss.  He parted your lips with his tongue and began exploring your mouth, not unlike he did out in the road last week. 

You began to attempt to pull away but he tangled his fingers through your hair and made a noise of protest.  Vernon was not ready to let you go.  You allowed him to lick into your mouth and deepen the kiss.  His mouth tasted like tea.  

“I have clippers at my place,” he whispered as he moved to plant searing kisses on your jaw.  

“Today is your last scene for the past.” You stated breathlessly.   He hummed in affirmation against your skin.  

“Come over and shave it tonight.” He mumbled.  

“Me?” You nearly shrieked.  He pulled back to look at you fully.  

“Yeah?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.  “Who else?” 

“Anyone else!” You placed your hands on his shoulders.  “I’m a film director not a hair stylist!”    

“It’s a buzz Y/N.” He deadpanned.  “Besides, you're pretty good at everything.” 

Vernon’s apartment was pretty much what you imagined it would be.  His living room walls were covered in posters for various movies, some of which featured your own name.  He wasn’t lying when he said he was a fan because you weren’t even sure where he would have gotten these.  His laptop was on the coffee table with a pair of headphones still plugged in, like he had rushed out this morning.  

He kept the place lit with only lamps, the overhead lights pretty much collecting dust.  There was a feeling of comfort and warmth that was so distinctly Hansol.  You watched him move through to the kitchen.  

“Where did you get this?” You wondered out loud looking at the theatrical poster of your latest release.  

“Uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck.  “Don’t worry about it?” “No seriously, I’ve been looking for it.” You turned toward him.  

“Oh my God, if you need it, you can have it.” “Nah, it looks better here than it ever would in my agency.” You winked at him.  He blushed and wandered toward the kitchen.  You turned your attention toward the rest of the posters and his collection of DVDs.  

“Wanna order take out?” He called to you, pulling back from the refrigerator once he realized he really needed to go grocery shopping. Filming wrapped for the day about two hours ago, it took the two of you that long to clean up and get to his apartment. Tonight was the first time the thin wall of professionalism had come down, you were nervous.  

Vernon appeared from the kitchen, grabbed your hand, and pulled you next to him on the couch.  “It’s okay, Y/N, nothing has to happen,” he rubbed circles into the back of your hand with his thumb. “You’re just here to shave my head and maybe eat something.” He smiled at you.      

One meal and several stolen kisses later you were standing in his kitchen, clippers in hand. You ripped a hole in a trash bag and shoved it over his head.  He made a muffled sound of surprise and turned toward you.  

“To catch the hair.” You stated simply.  You dug in your bag and pulled out your camera.  He eyed you and you watched him through the viewfinder for a moment before snapping the picture, catching it as it printed out.  “Before.” You stuck it in his silverware drawer.  

He sat down in the chair you carefully pulled into the center of the room and spread another trash bag under. His brown eyes looked up at you expectantly. “Ready?” You asked, nervously. He nodded up at you. You took a deep breath and turned on the clippers.  The machine vibrated ecstatically in your hand.  Moving toward him you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Open your eyes, babe.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but the nerves were evident in his tone.  Your eyes popped open.

“Sorry.” You replied sheepishly.  The clippers connected with his head, your eyes stayed open, and your tongue popped between your lips in concentration. Vernon’s eyes were locked on you for the entire process, just like when you’re in director mode, the care you put into everything was obvious.  Vernon felt lucky that you put this level of care into anything to do with him. 

You ran your hand over his skull.  “It’s done.” You muttered.  It was almost unfair, how good he looked with a buzzcut.   

The water was up to Vernon’s waist, still he waded further.  You watched the water creep up his shirt above the water. Peaking at the screen on the camera you called out to him, 

“Vernon! You can stop there, framing looks good!” He turned back toward the camera, toward you, and flashed a smile and a thumbs up.  

You called action and watched him transform from your Hansol into the character you crafted, partly for him.  He delivered his lines to the woods surrounding the lake, screaming and splashing.  This scene was a pinnacle in the movie, Adam was seeing his wife’s ghost and desperately trying to get to her, just to find she wasn’t real.  After Vernon finished his scene you would have Leah in the lake.  The film will be layered over each other to give it a disjointed feeling.  

You had never seen Vernon act in a scene like this before, you were almost nervous going into today, but he blew you away.  He truly had a passion for this work, and for your movie.  You weren’t sure how you struck such gold with the two cast members you found. 

Vernon got his shot within a few takes, he scrambled out of the lake and took the towel from the shore.  Leah met him at the edge of the water.  

“It’s warm, don’t worry about that.” He laid his hand on her shoulder and she laughed.  She began to wade into the water, her white dress pooling around her.  Vernon joined you behind the camera.  “Got it quick, just like I said.” His voice was low so that only you could hear him. He watched Leah get deeper in the water through your screen from behind you. His hand found your hip.  You stiffened under his touch, so casual in front of everyone.  

“Leah!” You called.  “I have the framing! You’re good!” Vernon dropped his hand.  

The sun sunk below the horizon, casting golden hues on the surface of the lake hours later.  Most of the crew had packed up and headed home a few minutes ago.  You carefully detached your camera from the tripod and packed it in its case.  Then, you turned to fold up  the tripod only to find Vernon already starting the task. 

“These going to the cabin?” He asked.  

“Yeah, but I was going to stay out here for a bit.” 

“Want company?” He put the folded tripod with the camera bag. 

“Yes I do.” You declared plopping down onto the sand near the shore.  He chuckled behind you and shuffled behind you.  He held you the way he did a few weeks ago when you taught him about the stars. His arms snaked around your waist.  

“Over halfway done, how you feeling, Madam Director?”  

“Ew.” You giggled.  “I feel good about the movie, you and Leah are more amazing than I could have imagined.” 

“I meant it when I said I wanted this to be the best movie you’ve ever made.” He rested his chin on the top of your head. 

“I’m a little scared of what happens after though.” You admitted.  “I’ve been working on this for so long, where do I go from here?” “I think everything will work out the way it should.” Vernon assured you, the double meaning wasn’t lost on you.  

“Do you want it to work out that way?” You whispered.  

“Absolutely, as long as it’s what you see for yourself.” A silence fell between you, it was comfortable and introspective.  The implications of the brief conversation settled on the two of you like a blanket, shutting out the rest of the world.  

You turned towards him and held out your hand.  He let you pull him to his feet and lead him to the water.  The moon was high in the sky and casting shadows across his face. He caught your gaze and held it as he sank to his knees in front of you. A quiet gasp escaped your lips.  He chuckled as he broke eye contact to tug on your shoelace.  

“You’re terrible.” You sighed and stepped out of your shoes and allowed him to take off your socks.  

“What did you think was about to happen, baby? You have all your clothes on.” 

“Hasn’t stopped you before, Hansol.”   He stood back up and crowded your space.  His lips brushed yours just barely.  

“We’ll see.” He whispered before crashing his lips against yours.  Your arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him as close as you could. The sand was cool on your feet but the heat of Hansol was all encompassing.  His hands slipped underneath your shirt shamelessly. He swallowed your breathy noises as he dragged his fingers up your rib cage toward your breasts. 

He lifted your shirt over your head quickly and returned his hands to your skin.  The want ripped through your body faster than you expected.  Your hands found the button of his jeans.  Hansol kicked off his shoes to allow you to easier get them off.  You tossed them up the beach toward your bag.  His large hands covered your breasts and kneaded the flesh over your bra.  

“You’re so beautiful, you know?” He breathed into your mouth.  His fingers ventured back and found the clasp of the bra. The fabric fluttered to the ground, you felt exposed but you weren’t sure you cared. He stepped back briefly and his eyes raked down your body as he took off his socks.  His shirt came off quickly after.  

He stepped closer to you and hooked a thumb under the band of your underwear. Kisses peppered down your neck until he reached your collar bone.  He began to suck deep bruises into the skin there.  Slowly, his fingers swept against your cunt experimentally.  You moaned at the slightest contact.  Hansol smiled against your skin and dragged his fingers through your folds.  

“Hansol, please.” You whined. The calloused pad of his finger slowly began to circle your clit.  You nearly jumped out of your skin at the delicious contact.  He slipped your panties down your legs and allowed you to step out of them.  Carefully, he pulled you against him, your back flush against his chest.  His clothed cock was hard against your ass as his fingers returned to their ruminations.  You felt like you might have exploded at this alone. 

His fingers slowly swept through your folds again before dipping shallowly into your entrance.  You moaned at the intrusion, encouraging Hansol to push in further.  A second finger found the spot inside you as his thumb met the delicious bundle of nerves.  You were hurtling toward your high embarrassingly fast.  Your hips bucked slightly to meet his pace.  

“It’s okay, baby, I got you, you can let go.” His gravelly voice rumbled through you.  You could feel him rutting helplessly into the swell of your ass through his boxers as the thread in your stomach snapped and your vision exploded into a million colors.  He held you through the after shock of your orgasm and slowly removed his fingers from you. 

“Take these off.” You reached behind you and snapped the band of his boxers.  You started up the beach toward your bag as he all but ripped them off of his body.  He watched your body bathed in moonlight return to him with your polaroid in your hand.  “Memories worth keeping?” He chuckled as he let the water touch his toes.  

“Yes, if not this, then what?” You asked, raising the viewfinder to your eye.  You saw Hansol, completely bare just for you, lit by only the moon, in the small window. The shutter snapped.  Running up the beach, you grab the photo before it falls to the ground and you put the camera in your bag and you set the developing picture into the bigger camera bag which let less light in.

He reaches for your hands as you return to him.  You allow him to guide you into the lake slowly.  His eyes never left yours as he guided you deeper and deeper.  The lake was not too deep even in the middle, so Hansol could touch the entire time even when your toes left the floor.  He held you so tenderly and protectively.  

“Come here,” he whispered and pulled you even closer.  You wrapped your legs around his trim waist and he held you there.  His eyelids drooped with desire as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips.  Slowly the kiss became more and more heated.  His tongue explored your mouth, even though he was confident he could map it out from memory by now.  Your hands toyed with the barely there strands at the nape of his neck.  “Do you want to try something with me?” He asked, his eyes fluttering open.  You nodded, too afraid to break the moment.  

He adjusted his grip on your thigh and guided his hard length to your entrance.  You watched the droplets of water dripped off of his long eyelashes as he slowly sheathed himself inside of you. You heard yourself gasp before you realized you were doing it, the stretch was absolutely delicious.  

“Oh, Hansol,” your voice was breathy and your eyes fluttered closed as he held you tightly and began to fuck up into you.  You felt every single drag of him against your walls.  

“You feel so good,” he whined.  “Feel like you were made for me.”  His pace slowed, an agonizing attempt to make this last longer.  You buried your face in his neck, the water licking your cheek as he began to pound into you again. The sound of your moans and breaths were too close to his ear, you were going to drive him wild, as if you hadn’t already. You wrapped around him, he was surrounded by you, and he wasn’t sure how he could keep his hands off of you in front of everyone after he has had you like this.  

Hansol felt the sting of teeth against his earlobe.  His thrusts became erratic as his high suddenly mounted.  Fingers pressed into your thighs almost painfully you whined, but only because it felt good.  Your second orgasm bubbled in your belly and you reached down and began to stimulate your own clit.  You felt like you were out of your body, the pleasure too much.  Hansol’s hips sputtered and with a choked sound he began to release thick white ropes inside of you.  Your orgasm crashed into you quickly after he began to fill you up.  

“Oh my God, Hansol.” You mewled unabashedly as the pleasure wracked through you.  Hansol thrusted weakly under you as you rode out your high.  He kissed your hair as you began to come down.  Slowly, he pulled out of you, a feeling of emptiness spreading through your body.  

“C’mon, let’s get you on solid ground.” He cradled you against his chest and carried you out of the lake.  

Vernon sighed and ran a hand over his buzzed head.  He still wasn’t used to seeing himself in the mirror without his hair.  This was his first day back at the Sebong building since you shaved his head in the middle of his kitchen.  He was nervous.  

The sound of the bathroom door swinging open made him jump and scramble to get the beanie over his head.  

“Hey,” Seungkwan offered as he saw Vernon.  His eyes grew wide as he took in the appearance of his friend who was trying to hide the glaringly obvious change.  

“Oh Hansol,” a wicked grin spread over Seungkwan’s face.  “Lee Chan is going to kill you.” 

“Shut up Kwan.” Vernon grumbled, pulling the beanie down over his ears.  “He won’t even notice.” He said firmly, trying to convince himself.  

“Sure, Sol,” Seungkwan chuckled, planting his hand on top of Vernon’s head and shaking it a bit.  “He’s waiting for you with Minghao in the boardroom, good luck.” 

“Fuck.” 

Vernon strode into the room, a thinly veiled air of panic behind false confidence.  He plopped down in his usual chair, the one with the peeling vinyl, and leveled his gaze at Chan and Minghao.  

“Vernon!” Chan smiled at him.  “Just who we were wanting to talk to!” 

“Yeah, and I would have never known if Seungkwan didn’t find me in the bathroom.” Vernon slumped and crossed his arms over his chest.  “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, uh, I’ll cut to the chase.” Chan leaned forward.  “I have it on good authority that there might be something going on on set. Care to share?” “Nope.” 

“Vernon.” Chan said with a warning tone. “Are you–why are you wearing a beanie? It’s July.”

“I wear beanies, Chan.  Nothing weird about it.” 

“What did you do to your hair?” Chan pressed nervously.

“That’s not what this meeting is about, is it?” Vernon replied coolly.  

“Just tell him you shaved your head so I can do the part of my job that doesn’t involve wrangling you.” Minghao spoke up.  Vernon sent him a glare from across the table.  “You aren’t exactly good at secrets, Vern.” 

“You’re supposed to be on my side, Hao.” Vernon slipped the beanie off his head.  

“Oh my God.” Chan buried his face in his hands.  “Why did you do that?” 

“Movie demands.” Vernon shrugged.  He wouldn’t dare tell Chan it was his idea.  

“He shaved his head.” Chan muttered to Minghao who rolled his eyes.

“Mourn my dead skin cells if you want, but can I go?” Vernon asked hopefully.   

“No!” Chan sat up, “We haven’t even talked about what we’re here for! Vernon, are you having relations with your director?” 

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Vernon looked between Chan and Minghao.  Minghao seemed disinterested in this dispute.  

“This could turn into a PR nightmare.” Chan retorted.  “If it is true.” “I guess we’ll never know.” Vernon pushed away from the table and stood.  

“Stop fucking your director.” Chan insisted.  Vernon stopped in the doorway to the boardroom and looked back at his boss.  

“No.”  

You flipped open the lid to your big camera bag and clapped your hand over your mouth.  Vernon, who shows up early every day now padded over to you to see what was wrong.  He peered down into the bag and laughed in disbelief. 

“That’s my dick.” He stated.  

“Yeah no shit!” You hissed and slammed the bag closed.  He thought you were cute when you were flustered like this.  He reached over, opened the bag, and plucked the polaroid from its place on top of the camera. 

“Here,” he ran his hand over your ass and slipped the small photo into your back pocket.  “For safekeeping.”  You gawked at him in disbelief as he rose to stand and greet his makeup artist as if nothing happened.  You stared at the back of his head until he was out of your sight. 

The cast and crew convened in front of the cabin about two hours later.  Everyone was looking at you, waiting for you to say something.  

“Well,” you started.  “Today is the last day of filming.  I want to thank each and every one of you for believing in this project. I can tell just how much everyone cares by the work we have all done over the last several weeks.” You smiled sadly at everyone, eyes lingering on Hansol.  “Let’s make it another great day guys.”  Cheers exploded from the small crowd of people and you finally felt like you were where you were supposed to be.  Various members of your small crew came to give you hugs and congratulations and then the work started.  

Leah and Vernon never let up until the very end, they both gave their all.  You watched Vernon talk tenderly to the sky in what would be the final scene of the movie.  His emotions rolled over him in waves, tears falling from his eyes.  You couldn’t help your tears from falling behind the camera.  What next? 

“Cut!” You called.  “That’s a wrap on Soul Meets Body.” Your voice cracked.  Vernon was running to you. His arms encircled your waist and he lifted you off the ground and spun you around.  You could hear the cheers from everyone around you, finally everyone being able to see the not so well kept secret in front of them.        

One Year Later…

“Are you ready for this?” You asked, smoothing your hands down the sleeves of Hansol’s suit jacket.  

“I am, are you?” He smirked.  “They’re going to ask about it.” “Let them.” Leah, Vernon, and yourself stepped out into the light.  It was a small premiere, so not too intimidating but this felt more intense than any other premiere you’ve had in your career to date.  

“Y/N, as the director, was there anything driving your passion for this project?” An indie film journalist asked quickly before anyone could get a word in.  

“Y/N!” Another journalist called.  “Is there anyone in particular in the cast or crew that made this movie such an important one?”

“I can’t say much,” you started.  “But I can assure you, this movie was made with a lot of love.”

[forhappysake]

"Because I love you."

A/N - Guys I'm really into these sappy pieces recently. Pls feel free to send requests for something else if inspired. Also, I might be doing a pt.3 to Teach Me at some point, I just have to pick where the story is going.

Summary - A showdown with an unsub leaves you in the hospital. Spencer can't help but feel guilty. Could almost losing you push him to confess his love? (spoilers: yes it does)

Warnings - spencer x reader, BAU level violence, some angst on Spencer's part, fluff, and a love confession

You stared down at your hands, battered and bloodied from your futile attempts to fight back. Caught off guard during an interview with a man who was only supposed to be an eye witness,  not the unsub himself, forced you to fight for your life. By the time the neighbors heard the scuffle and called the local police to come to your rescue, you figured you looked like you’d been through seven rounds of an MMA fight. Your head ached, your eye was swollen shut, and you nearly cried in agony with every breath as you were certain you’d broken a rib. 

After a tense standoff with the local police, the unsub was in custody, leaving you on the floor with your many wounds. You managed to stand yourself up and walk out the door to the waiting ambulance, only to collapse into the EMT’s arms. You felt yourself being loaded in the back of the vehicle as they started an IV. As consciousness drifted away from you, you couldn’t help but wonder where your team was. 

***

You awoke in the hospital to the steady sound of your heart monitor beeping and muffled conversation from outside your room. Your bloodied clothes had been traded in for a hospital gown at some point, and your midsection was bound tightly with some sort of bandages, you assumed to keep your rib in place. You managed to open your good eye in an attempt to find the source of those muffled voices. Your eyes landed on Emily and JJ speaking in the corner of the room, voices hushed. 

“He can’t blame himself. None of us saw this coming,” Emily said, her voice stern but laced with concern. 

JJ shook her head. “He feels terrible, Emily. I’ve seen him come in and out of here crying three times in the last two hours. He rarely cries.” 

Who could they be talking about?

Emily looked at the floor in silence, trying to formulate a reply. JJ cleared her voice to speak again. “They’re partners, Emily,” JJ said, “Of course he’s going to blame himself.” 

Spencer. 

Deciding you’d had enough of eavesdropping, you did your best to sit up, only to let out a whimper when a sharp pain pierced your side. JJ and Emily turned to face you, surprised looks on both their faces. 

“Hey, just lay back,” JJ encouraged. She rushed to the bedside, placing a soothing hand on your arm.

“How long have I been asleep?” you asked. 

Emily shook her head, “Only twelve hours, which isn’t very much considering what you’ve been through. I’ll tell the doctors you need another IV and some pain medication.”

As she turned for the door, you shook your head, “Emily, wait.”

Emily turned to face you, coming to stand at the foot of your bed. “What is it?”

“Where’s Spencer?” you asked. Emily looked to JJ, the two of them sharing a knowing glance. You and Spencer had always been close, as partners and friends. 

“He’s been going back and forth between pacing the parking lot and the lobby for hours. I can’t imagine how many steps he’s taken,” Emily joked. “I’ll go get him for you.” With that, she turned and left the room, leaving you and JJ to catch up on what you’d missed in the last few hours. 

JJ explained what happened after you’d passed out: how the unsub was in custody, finding another victim in his basement, and the team realizing that they’d sent you out to interview the lunatic on your own. “We just thought he was going to give you some information about the case. We had no reason to think that he was the one who-”

You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop her. “I didn’t think so either. It’s why I agreed to go alone. Nobody’s at fault.” 

JJ nodded, a solemn look on her face. “I’m just so glad you’re okay. We were all so worried once we connected the dots. I was telling Emily - I haven’t seen Spencer so stressed in years.” 

As if on cue, both you and JJ turned to the sound of rushed footsteps coming down the hallway. Spencer’s tall frame was running (no, sprinting) down the hospital corridor. You felt a small smile tug at the corner of your lips as he burst into the room, hair danging in front of his eyes and clearly out of breath. 

He approached your bedside, leaning down so he could be face-to-face with you. You could only see him with one good eye, but you did your best to smile to show him that you were doing alright. You brought a hand to his face, pushing the fallen strands of hair out of his eyes so you could see him more clearly. “Hello to you too,” you joked. 

“Y/N-” Spencer started, the tears quickly gathering in his eyes, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve gone with you. I should have known that-” 

“That the guy who called into the tipline was actually the unsub? Spencer, be logical. None of us knew. I was just telling JJ, nobody is at fault.”

A single tear fell down his cheek as he examined your injuries. With each scratch and bruise he found, he felt another crack forming in his heart. He hadn’t protected you. Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do? He was your partner. Your best friend. He loved you, that he knew. He’d forced that love to be as platonic as he could make it, trying to avoid ruining your perfect friendship. It was moments like this that made that more difficult than ever, as he tried to reckon with his love and his guilt. 

Your bruised hand was still cradling his face. He could feel the bandages against his stubble, and he cursed himself again. It was only then that the other presence in the room became known to him. JJ stood on the other side of the bed, another knowing smile gently painting her lips. Spencer knew what he had to do. JJ knew what Spencer had to do. He looked at her, his eyes subtly asking her to leave the two of you alone. JJ took the hint with a small nod, leaving the room without another word as you and Spencer continued to examine each other. 

“So, JJ’s filled me in on what I missed,” I said, breaking the silence. “Sounds like a pretty exciting half day,” I joked. 

Spencer shook his head, pulling away from your hand. He didn’t go far, though, intertwining his own with yours as he leaned back from the bed. “I was worried sick,” he said. 

“I can tell, Spence,” you said, trying to prop yourself up with your pillow. “You really shouldn’t have been. You know I always come out of these things relatively unscathed.” He raised an eyebrow at your statement, taking in your swollen and bruised features. ���Well… maybe not unscathed. Alive, at least,” you quipped. 

An eerie silence fell over the room. You could feel the tension increase as the gears turned in his head.

“But what if you don’t someday?” he whispered, his voice far away. You looked over at him, his eyes fixed on your heart monitor and the gentle green lines rising and falling accompanied by the signature beep-beep-beeping. 

You squeezed his hand in an attempt to bring him back down to Earth. “I’ll always come back, Spencer. It’s what you and I do. We come back alive for each other.” 

The tears that had pooled in his eyes earlier spilled over his cheeks as he let out a small whimper. He leaned down, gently wrapping his arms around you as he wept. “Hey, it’s okay Spencer,” you tried to calm him. 

“No, it’s not. It-it’s not because,” he trailed off. You could still feel his shoulders shaking as he cried. 

“Why, Spencer?” you asked once more. “Please, you can tell me anything.” 

Suddenly his sobs slowed. He pulled back from your embrace, taking in your features. Bruised and battered as you were, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He felt like his heart was going to explode. Before his brain could catch up with his mouth, the words came tumbling out. “Because I love you,” he said simply. 

Your jaw dropped open at his words. While you should’ve seen this coming, nothing could prepare you for the way your heart jumped. If it wasn’t evident from the expression on your face, the heart monitor picked up its beeping, nearly doubling its pace. The sound wasn’t lost on Spencer, who frantically looked at the screen.

“Oh no,” he mumbled, quickly walking to the monitor. “Did I upset you? I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ve just felt this way for so long and if I keep pretending like I don’t-”

“Spencer,” you cut him off, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in minutes. “I love you too.” 

The look on his face was priceless, and you wished you could have taken a picture, but you did your best to engrave it on your brain forever. His brown, teary eyes brightened in a moment, a glimmer of hope shining from within. “You do?” he asked. 

You laughed, allowing your head to fall back on the pillow behind you. “Spencer, I volunteer to work with you during nearly every case. We split a room every week. I only wished that you’d said this sooner so we could’ve split the bed, too.”

He stared at you in shock. The tears in his eyes long forgotten as a smile crept on his face.

A soft laugh left his mouth as he leaned down to you once more, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, careful to avoid any injured area. “Well, I promise that next time we can,” he said. “And,” he started once more, “I’m never letting you go anywhere by yourself again.”

You smiled up at him, running your fingers over his own. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[glitchinginthegarden]

Woke up with thoughts so here we go:

Johnny’s behavior early in the game makes 100% sense and I support it because it fits his character writing and situation.

I've been seeing a lot of newer cyberpunk players getting onto the "Johnny is an absolute piece of shit" / "why would anyone do anything for this douchebag" soapbox and they're entitled to that opinion BUT...

Coming from the perspective of having completed the game multiple times and done plenty of digging into the ttrpg stuff, it fits. We also have to keep in mind the unreliable narrator factor but that's another thing all together.

In the beginning (after the nightmare night), Johnny is playing the face of cool dude who's suddenly on V's side while actively attempting to manipulate them. This tracks for his character, yes, but also for Night City.

If their positions were swapped, I know for a fact my V would be doing the same exact thing to her unwilling host. Which, when you break it down, is simply an attempt to regain control over a situation where she has none.

I don't blame Johnny in the slightest for that at that point in the plot. It's in human nature to fight tooth and nail for survival. Why would that not extend to someone who's been trapped in soul prison for fifty years too?

He's just "escaped" Mikoshi only to wake up imprisoned (again) in the mind of a complete stranger. Can you blame him for trying to find an angle he can work there?

Because I don't.

Everything tells us yes, Johnny is an asshole who historically has generally only looked out for himself. But not that he's been actively or maliciously intent on causing harm to the people around him. He doesn't behave the way he does for the hell of it, he does it (in my opinion) because in the past, his flavor of manipulation has worked and usually gotten him what he wants.

Which brings me to another thing: I've also seen some comments about how he doesn't tell V certain things depending on how you talk to him. That he withholds more if V is nice than when they're more mean to him. And that also tracks for his character.

Now, I will say that I haven't played a lot of "be mean to Johnny" runs, but if he does drop more info for that, I'm not surprised. Case and point: the oil fields.

Johnny is a person who won't take shit seriously unless he gets a kick in the ass for his behavior. V has to call him on his bullshit to get that sweet approval boost for Don't Fear The Reaper. So, it ultimately it makes sense for him to cough up more information along the line if V isn't being nice about getting it or calls him on being a dodgy fuck. Johnny doesn't fuck with weak people unless he can use them, that's not a secret.

He's playing his cards close to his chest for the most part and it makes sense. He has sparingly few hands to play after 50 years in soul prison. Why would he show his spread to someone who, depending on where you are in the plot, ultimately wants to end him again and scrape him off their brain? He's trying to survive.

He's a disabled man with a grand total of eighty something years of untreated ptsd and people wonder why he's not forthcoming with what he knows? Of course he's not. It's unreasonable to expect that, and especially from a character like his.

The point I'm trying to get to here, I suppose, is that I support Johnny’s wrongs because they're in line with his character and that's part of what makes him so well written. Yes, he's an asshole. Yes, he manipulates and lies and cheats to serve his needs. But, c'mon, look at the whole picture. Look at the setting and the other players on the board, and tell me it doesn't make perfect sense.

[twilightprince101]

I see a lot of AU's for In Stars and Time revolving around the idea of "what if X character was looping instead of Siffrin" and they are all wonderful. I adore the sight of seeing how exactly they slowly but surely break down over the course of months, maybe even years of repeating the same day and seeing how they contextualize the game's events from their perspective.

But there's one piece of all of these AU's that I wish was included a bit more: their feelings at the very, very start in regards to communication with others.

When Siffrin is told that he can tell his party about the time loop at any time, he immediately dismisses the idea because that is who he is as a person. Extremely caring for others, barely caring for himself. This is arguably the catalyst for the entire story (yes, even compared to WHY the loops started at all).

But how exactly do the other characters deal with that information around the start? How do they initially start the timeloop when told "there's nothing stopping you from asking for help?"

For example: Mirabelle. She already has a LOT on her plate since she's struggling with being "The Chosen." But I feel that being put in the time loop like this would actually be a relief for her. She is quite literally chosen by some sort of deity to try as many times as she wants. She's thankful because she really was chosen by the Change God (hahaha). So maybe at the start she would be more confident, talk with everyone and explain the full situation at the clock tower. "Yes, we did die against the King, but everything is back to how it was. If we work harder, we can make it!" But she would do that, every single time. The same conversation. And she's too wrapped up in that routine that she just focuses on reassuring everyone that things will be okay and saying the exact same words. Mirabelle's catalyst is similar to Siffrin's in that they both care for their friends, but while Siffrin helps fix everyone's problems, Mirabelle helps comfort everyone emotionally and doesn't focus on herself.

Then there's Odile. I feel she would treat the matter objectively, almost like a standard time loop protagonist. The first thing she does is tell everyone about it, finding some way to prove it ("Bonnie got X ingredients, Isabeau never made a wish at the favor tree, etc."). But after a certain point, going through all of those extra steps becomes draining. So she instead focuses on saying the right words which will get everyone else to do certain actions. "If I ask what fruits Boniface is bringing tomorrow then they'll keep that in the front of their mind, which will cause them to eat the pineapple early, eliminating the risk that Siffrin will die of their allergy." But throughout it all, she never factors her own feelings as to why the time loops are happening. That is Odile's catalyst: she is too logical and doesn't acknowledge feelings as part of the equation.

Perhaps later on in the timeloop they would do different things entirely, stop talking to others all together. But this is specifically about everyone's catalyst at the very start, their own version of "Why would you need help? You're in the position to help everyone here." It would likely take longer to happen than Siffrin's, the emotionally repressed gremlin, but the end result would still be the same. It's about self-isolation after all.

I just think it's a fun thing to think about.

[vianbarnes]

my buddie going canon ideal scenario and why it could happen before eddie fully realises he’s gay

i’ve been cooking up this scenario for a while now but before going into it i wanna clarify that i don’t think eddie’s homosexuality is tied to buck and just that. i could write a full essay about eddie’s queerness without even mentioning buck. HOWEVER i do think buck could be the key to eddie’s discovery, the last puzzle piece that makes it all make sense.

narratively speaking, i think it could be interesting to see buck and eddie get to the same conclusion (that they’re in love with each other) but in the complete opposite way. while for buck it’s oh shit i’m bi > oh shit i’m in love with eddie, for eddie it would be oh shit i’m in love with buck > oh shit i’m gay. and obviously eddie is starting his own journey just now, so he might realise he’s gay and then it could click for him that all he’s been looking for was there all along, but i do think that - since this is a tv show - it would be interesting to offer a different side of the story to the audience. and yes i know that buck’s queerness and eddie’s queerness are very different already, but i’m specifically referring to their storylines leading up to buddie. (also this is just a personal side note but i think i would be lowkey crazy to have both of them realise they’re queer and still not understand their feelings for each other, like i know they’re dumb and dumber but c’mon!!!)

ok so now let’s put on the tinfoil hat

we literally know nothing about what’s gonna happen in the next episodes so i don’t have any solid theory on how we could get to this scenario. some of the interviews were teasing some potential tension (or angst even) between buck and eddie so my brain took this information and ran with it. a lot of us were also theorising a nde for buck, for eddie or for both of them at the same time and that could also be the setup for what i’m thinking.

but first let’s analyse where buck and eddie are right now (and in the upcoming episodes)

buck was just broken up with so now he’s trying to explore his sexuality and understand it more. it feels like the search for “his last” has just started and he’s excited to look at relationships and love through a new lens, but he also might feel a little discouraged that he has to do it all over again. he might be thinking “now that i have all these new possibilities, why is it still so hard to find my person?” (average bisexual experience i will tell you that much).

eddie on the other hand is slowly trying to forgive himself and love himself, accepting joy and not pushing away his desires and needs. allowing himself to feel certain feelings and just let go. he’s taking small steps to show up for himself just like he does for his loved ones every day (we still don’t know how far they’re gonna go with his story so the next episodes are definitely gonna be interesting)

so, with all that being said, here’s how buddie could go canon:

it’s late and buck shows up at eddie’s house. they’re in the kitchen drinking a beer, both leaning on the counter and not looking at each other at first. something has happened between them that they need to clear up (could be an argument, a fight or some very important words exchanged when they thought they were about to lose the other).

as much as i love a “because i love you!!” screamed during an argument, i don’t see that happening in this scenario. i imagine them having the softest, most honest and open conversation where they lay it all out - without even realising what they’re doing. at some point, buck is gonna say something that will make it finally click for eddie. if it’s an argument he could say something like “i need you in my life”/“i want you in my life forever”, or if this happens after a nde he could say “i can’t imagine my life without you”/“i don’t know how i could live without you” (i’m not a writer but you get the gist lol)

and that’s when eddie finally allows himself to feel what deep down he’s been feeling for years, and so he leans over and kisses buck. the kiss is pretty short: eddie pulls away almost immediately, as if his body was possessed by something and he just snapped out of it. buck can’t believe what just happened, but it takes him just a few seconds to realise and to grab eddie’s face and kiss him back. they start making out, they go out of frame, the screen turns black, the episode is over.

now let’s talk about the aftermath of the kiss. because if we know 911 we know that this goddamn show can’t let people just be happy so of course there’s gonna be some angst and miscommunication.

after the kiss, they don’t really talk about it. they might even get interrupted by something else (maybe eddie has to go to texas to get chris back?) so they have to postpone the what the fuck just happened conversation. and that’s when both of them start to spiral, but for different reasons. buck of course thinks that eddie’s distance means that he regretted the kiss, that they got caught up in the moment but that he doesn’t feel that way about him and he basically ruined their friendship. eddie is also freaking the fuck out: he’s panicking about how they could make their relationship work, how they could tell christopher, he’s questioning literally his whole life and past relationships like oh my god have i been gay this whole fucking time??, he’s worried about their jobs, how they’re gonna tell bobby and the others. basically questioning everything but buck.

being the idiots that they are, they’re gonna convince themselves that the other regretted everything and they’re gonna avoid each other and never have that much needed conversation. the 118 obviously notices that something is off, but no one knows what it is. until hen and eddie finally talk and he tells her everything: what happened, what made him panic and doubt everything and what’s stopping him from talking to buck. hen is shocked but not necessarily surprised. her and karen look at eachother (yes karen is there too because of eddiekaren bestfriendism that is very real to me) and then hen says something like “i don’t have the answers to all of these questions, but i’m sure of one thing: you love him and he loves you. you can figure out the rest together. go talk to him” (i think it would be nice for eddie to have this conversation with henren as a couple, since his biggest fears and concerns are about how they could make the relationship work)

eddie feels like he just woke up from a 20+ year long sleep. he runs out of hen’s place, hurrying to his car, and from now i’m picturing a full romcom montage with him just fighting for his life to get to buck’s apartment: traffic, construction work so he has to take a detour, his shirt is drenched in sweat so he has to go back home to change because surely he can’t show up at buck’s looking like that. once he gets home, he sprints to his room to find a new shirt (maybe he puts on too much cologne - the one buck likes - and he has to change again. just because it would be fun to see him in distress). he fixes his hair for the 100th time, grabs his keys, finally opens the front door and stops in disbelief. buck is on his doorstep, hand mid-air about to knock. they look at each other and in that moment they just know. they both lean in and go for the kiss aaand BUDDIE CANON !!!! (+ the buck at eddie’s door parallel finally having the romcom resolution it always meant to have)

of course i have no clue how we could get there, but i do feel like it would be true to the show if they didn’t immediately get together and if there was some angst between them. i hope that once they get together they won’t try to break them up (even just temporarily) so they might have to go through some shit at the very beginning of their relationship for that to happen.

alright tinfoil hat OFF folks. i always try to stay consistent to the show and only come up with theories that i could truly see being developed and i don’t think any of this is unrealistic. buuut i’m still a clown so who knows. quite frankly i’m fine with buddie canon either way (as long as their first kiss is initiated by eddie and it happens in his kitchen <3)

[cakepoppresent]

Since 3pm

Love this for them. Here's what went down 18+

Previous- Next

[Ren]: Since Mr. Takahashi is in Mt.Korembi he’s hoping you can handle business here on your own.

[Gideon]: I can handle it fine. He doesn’t need to worry

[Ren]: That’s good to hear. Its been quiet for a few months but Mr. Takahashi is worried that certain people will become restless

[Gideon]: Worried? I thought everything was already handled

[Ren]: It has...somewhat. Things like this are messy

[Gideon]: Is it The Fengs?

[Ren]:[Ren]: They aren’t convinced about the path Daisuke has taken. It’s better to be careful just to be safe, Tadashi will be at your call in case you need backup

[Gideon]: I’d prefer not to contact him.

[Ren]: Understandable. He’s a last-case scenario type of situation.

[Ren]: Oh! Before I forget, you have a special guest in your office.

[Gideon]: Guest? Who?

[Ren]: He’s been here all afternoon. When I asked if he wanted me to inform you, he said he didn’t want to disturb you and would wait until you finished your meetings.

[Gideon]: You still should have told me

[Ren]: And ignore the request of those pretty big brown eyes? No thank you. I’ll clear this floor for you so no one will distrub your meeting with Mr. Reeves

[Gideon]: Much appreciated

[Grayson]: Gideon! I didn’t want to distrub you. I also wanted it to be a surprise....Surprise!

[Gideon]: You should have told me you were coming.

[Gideon]: Did they offer you anything to eat or drink?

[Grayson]: They did!

[Gideon]: This is definitely a nice surprise. Here I thought you forgot all about me

[Grayson]: I’ve just been busy with work and working on my pieces

[Gideon]: You’ve made that very clear in your one-sentence text messages

[Grayson]: You sound upset

[Gideon]: I sound upset? Why would I be upset Grayson? Did you do anything to upset me?

[Grayson]: That’s why I’m here...I know I've been distant, its not on purpose..I swear. I miss you

[Gideon]: Oh? Do you now? Come here

[Gideon]: You barely answer my calls. You don’t tell me anything about your work I have to hear it from Veronica or Sams...

[GRayson]: I know....I’m sorry...

[Gideon]: I think it's time we actually talked. We won’t be leaving this office until I’m satisfied

[Gideon]: Are you scared of me now? Do you think I’m dangerous?

[Grayson]: Of course I’m not scared! It’s not about that!

[Gideon]: Then what is this about? I want you back in our apartment naked and in our bed

[Grayson]: Gideon!

[Gideon]: Is this about Su? Are you still thinking about that fucking bastard?

[Grayson]: No Gideon! Don’t be stupid I’m not thinking about Su! Not really...

[Gideon]: “Not Really?” So you DO miss him? Do you regret not going to Sulani with him? Did I ruin your plans?

[Grayson]: What? No! That’s no-

[Gideon]: I should have put that fucker 6 feet in the fucking dirt the first time he started sniffing around you

[Grayson]: Is this how you acted when we were in high-school? Threatening anyone who would try to talk to me?

[Gideon]: Focus. We are talking about right now not high school. Why are you avoiding me since you aren’t scared what is the issue?

[Grayson]:...

[Grayson]: I don’t understand how you love me so much after everything I put you through

[Gideon]: What?

[Grayson]: I let Su take advantage of me like that and broke up with you. Even after everything ended I didn’t even apologize I just asked to have some space. Why don’t you hate me?

[Gideon]: Because you’re silly and a little naïve and Su that fucking bastard took advantage.

[Grayson]: I’m silly?

[Gideon]: Just a little

[Grayson]: I’ve been trying to find out how to apologize to you...for everything. I’m sorry Gideon

[Gideon]: Look at you...being silly again. You don’t ever need to apologise

[Grayson]: But I am. So accept my apology and say you forgive me and that you love me

[Gideon]: I love you.

[Grayson]: Forgive me?

[Gideon]: Hmm...Let's make you earn it

[Grayson]:Wait! Gideon Wait! People can see us!

[Gideon]: Don’t worry about it. The floor is empty its just us

[Grayson]: Really?

[Gideon]: Focus. What are you doing this weekend?

[Grayson]: I don’t have plans this weekend

[Gideon]: Try again.

[Grayson]: ...spending the weekend with you?

[Gideon]: Perfect

[mischievousprincess01]

Soap and Dagger

Chapter 1 : A Simple Request

* Originally posted on Ao3 on my account, MischievousPrincess*

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61920601

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’d always been one to call superstitious people idiots, but if I was going to start believing in omens, today might be the day. There had been a warm breeze on the tarmac and clear skies as I headed out this morning, but now, slate colored clouds threatened rain. April brought shitty weather everywhere, but London was worse than Virginia by a long shot.

Regardless, the streets were still packed with locals, umbrellas holstered in hand, ready to draw them at the first sign of the storm breaking. I kept my face pointed down, hands deep in my pockets, and the hood of my coat pulled over my head. Soggy shoes and wet hair wouldn’t deter me from a meeting like this, but it wouldn’t make me any happier about the last-minute airfare prices either. At least my heavy boots made me less uncomfortably hot in this climate than back home. But then there was the problem of traction on slick pavement. I shook my head softly as I neared the restaurant.

The Hare and Hound, what a pretentious-ass location. Of course he would suggest such a crowded, central spot for this. The sign above the door was gilded in gold, weather worn letters, and both of the street facing walls were covered in massive glass windows with annoyingly segmented panes. I was certain they’d be harder to see through once the rain really stared coming down around here. I rolled my eyes as myself and four others entered the loud pub at the same moment.

If Price wasn’t already here, I’d be pissed. He’d only been late to one of these things, over two years ago, but I didn’t forget easily. It was due to paperwork, or so he had claimed. The flare in his nostrils had said otherwise, but I wouldn’t bring it up today. Especially not when his message had come from an encrypted server and had been urgent, according to him. That either meant he was about to die or he needed something from me. Or maybe there was a secret third option that hadn’t crossed my mind, but that’d be a goddamn longshot.

I clocked him in a booth near the back of the place, his familiar frame dressed in the casual clothes I’d grown used to seeing him in. A glass of probably Guinness balanced between his hands while his eyes fell on the booth in front of him with purpose. Punctual and predictable as always, which meant he was safe from my ribbing, for now. But depending on what he said to me, maybe I would say something after all.

As I shrugged off my coat, I slid into the booth opposite him. He grinned warmly and I nodded. “Nice bar. Only one exit though. Worried I’ll run?”

Price shook his head and eyed me. “It’s good to see you too.” His warm accent hit my ears and it felt so familiar and nice, I was almost unaware of the teasing in his words. He was avoiding my bullshit already, too; not the best of signs for this. He placed a hand on the table and I stared down at it for a moment before meeting his gaze again.

“Yes, great. Why are we meeting in London with twelve hour’s notice?”

“Can’t we have five minutes to catch up first, Scuff?” he asked, disapproval in his tone.

“I’ll set a timer,” I retorted drily. “Fine. Why are you back civilian side?”

The corners of his eyes pinched as his lips quirked upward ever so slightly as I tried playing his game. “The team and I finished up a pretty important op. I thought they deserved a day or two off to celebrate.”

“Bravo team?”

He swallowed hard and shook his head curtly. “Not anymore.”

That was new. Or maybe not. With Price, it was hard to tell how much his high clearances would let him say. It wasn’t like we traded that kind of information anyway; we could both infer what crazy stuff the other got up to.

“You’re in one piece, so that bodes well,” I continued, wanting to ask, but even with the volume in this place, I wouldn’t dare.

“I am,” he said, taking a long drink.

“It is good to see you, old man,” I sighed, shifting in my seat as the words left my mouth.

He chuckled. “That looked like it hurt.”

“Don’t push your luck, Price.”

There was a lull between us as I struggled to find anything else to add that wasn’t some kind of digging as to why I was here. He checked his watch. “A minute and a half? Your people-skills are getting better every time I see you,” he muttered with an impish grin. I rolled my eyes as a whisper of a grin coated my lips. Finally though, he got to the point, much to my satisfaction. “I called you here to make a proposition.”

I reclined into my seat. “And what is that?”

“I got word yesterday of a situation that is outside the expertise of my team.”

That sounded about right. Anyone higher up seemed to have their ear to the ground and eyes in the sky at all times. I didn’t. That luxury wasn’t afforded to an informant like me. But I preferred looking at the here and now anyway; Price and my superiors could keep their outside intel for all I cared.

“Do you even sleep anymore?” I snorted

“By the looks of it, probably more than you.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, what is the mission, then?”

“Unfortunately that’s need to know. And as of right now, you don’t need to know.”

My brows furrowed. “Then why am I here?”

“To say yes to joining my team.”

I blinked a few times and let out a low whistle. “That’s ballsy. You called me here for an offer you could’ve made over email?”

“I wanted verbal confirmation. And unlike you, I’m not too proud to say I wanted to see how you were, in person.”

His soft spot for me would get him killed one of these days. That was why I narrowed my eyes at him as I took in his words. And perhaps my soft spot for him didn’t help matters either.

“That’s weak,” I murmured, shaking my head. But I cleared my throat and continued. “Really, I’m fine. And even if I wanted to say yes, you know my superiors would throw a fit.”

His smirk appeared as a challenge against my excuse. I should’ve known this man would’ve prepared for that. “I’ve already got a formal request drafted and ready to send as soon as you say the word.”

“Of course you do.”

“And your boss still owes me for a mission I helped with a few years back.”

I snorted softly. “Of course she does.”

There was a lull in conversation, the two of us simply looking at each other. I debated actually ordering a drink as he seemed set on finishing his. I studied the tarnished polish on the tabletop while mulling over the request.

“I’m not forcing you,” he finally said, leaning his forearm on the table.

“I know. You’re cornering me, which is worse.”

He chuckled warmly. “Ah, I’ve missed you, Null.”

I couldn’t help the small grin that swept across my lips for a moment. “Why do you want me so damn bad?”

The way his head tilted to the side, like it was all so obvious, had my ego purring. Goddamn him. “Because I don’t work with anyone but the best. Especially with what I am doing now. I can’t settle for anything less.”

“Say anything more and you’ll be smelling my shit for a month, brown-noser,” I smirked, but only for a moment. His own smile trailed off as he waited.

While I knew the ball was in my court on this, he wasn’t giving me much of a choice in the matter. Whether the desperation he was putting into this was real or fake didn’t matter as much as it should’ve; or would’ve had this been anyone else on the planet. But it was Captain Price, and he knew as well as I did what hoops I’d jump through to help him. That thought soured my mood as I answered, knowing this was what he knew would happen, the cocky bastard.

“I have some conditions.”

He wiped his mustache clean of beer as he smiled knowingly at me. “Name them.”

I blew a long breath out of my nose and sized him up. Setting my elbows on the table, I stated, “I’ll need files on my teammates and at least some sort of overview of what this situation is going to cover. And I want to know for how long.”

“It’s an infiltration and information recon mission. Shouldn’t be more than a week,” he replied smoothly.

“And my squad?”

He shook his head immediately. “Those reports are classified. But you can meet them. Tonight, in fact; they’ll be here in an hour or so.”

I leaned forward a bit more. “One day I’ll be a step ahead of you, you bastard.”

“And what a sorry day that’ll be,” he smirked. “But I can promise you, Scuff, I wouldn’t have these men on my team if they weren’t fully committed.”

Another heavy sigh fell from me. “They don’t know, do they?”

“Was planning on telling them tomorrow,” he said. I nodded, pursing my lips.

“So, just so we’re crystal clear, I have your blessing to have a chat with them tonight? My way?”

He inclined his head, a gleam in his eyes. This was why I tolerated the rest of his dumb games. The fact that he let me do my own work instead of just expecting me to believe him was refreshing. Even if I had already agreed to this secret mission of his, I at least had the agency to do my own checks and balances. No one else treated me so well. I wouldn’t be missing the opportunity.

“Talk to them, see if they’re worth their weight. See if you can see what I see in them,” he urged.

I shook my head for a moment before nodding. “Fine. Fine. But I’m grabbing one of those high top tables instead of this booth. Better vantage point.” And I was up out of the seat before he could respond. All he did was chuckle as I hopped up into the seat just as a rowdy group of girls decided to leave.

Neither of us looked at each other as the next forty five minutes ticked by, but we didn’t have to. Even though I had nearly nothing to go on, I knew what I would need for a mission like he had described. Thankfully I had packed ahead as if I had known what kind of spur-of-the-moment man Price could be, so I had most of my things at the secure base my organization held in London. I busied myself by nursing a stout while doodling on a napkin and pretending to scroll on my phone like a majority of the other people in the pub.

Only when Price headed outside did my eyes flick up toward the door. He hadn’t even told me how many men were on this task force of his. For all I knew, it could be two or twenty. It didn’t matter, though. I’d clock them all and he knew that, too. Hell, it was probably one of the other reasons he wanted me. If I was one thing to a fault, it was loyal. Only he knew it was out of necessity, not respect, though. I hoped his team were the same for their sake.

There were three of them who walked in with Price. The small number lent credence to his comment about only tapping the best of the best and I kept that in mind. Where I had expected to see the swagger of confidence, I only saw poise. They took up only as much space as they needed, with none of the bravado of younger, less seasoned recruits I’d had the displeasure of working with in the past. Even as they all sat at the bar, the only faux pas committed was by the tallest one of the group.

His baseball cap stayed squarely on his head, along with a black mask that covered the bottom half of his face. I could assume he wasn’t going to be drinking tonight. And by the way his head stayed on a constant swivel, I also guessed he was the covert op lead of the team. Not that his counterparts seemed any less aware of their surroundings, but the way his dark eyes kept passing over me and every other person here would have been chilling had it not been so familiar to me.

The next man, the one closest to Price, laughed as he elbowed the masked man and his smile seemed to pull his team in toward him. The stories Price had been able to tell me of his escapades were harrowing enough to know anyone working for him was scarred just like me. So for that man to still have a nugget of happiness that big inside him, he was either hiding something, or was actually that good of a person. I tended to believe the former.

Price tried to catch my eye but I looked down into my nearly empty glass instead. I didn’t need to watch him try and play mind games with me; I wanted eyes on his final man. The one with the little mohawk that made me want to snort in laughter.

How he thought that was a good hairstyle was beyond me, but maybe with a few good jokes I could spare myself of having to look at it for the rest of the week. Even with that ridiculous style choice, he was the last one who drew my eye. Not because he wasn’t interesting, but because his form was the most relaxed. One foot was propped on the crossbar of his stool while the other lazily hung, seemingly swinging absentmindedly as he watched his squad. When he turned to the side, granting me a view of his side profile, only laugh lines and an easy grin were displayed. He seemed to truly be soaking up Price’s opportunity for celebration.

Mohawk reached around Mask to clasp Smiles on the shoulder and let out a hearty laugh I could hear over the din of the pub. Something was tossed out in a Scottish accent before the four of them laughed together. In my mind, a picture was forming. Mohawk seemed like the even keel eldest, Mask took the role of perfectionist middle, and Smiles the youngest and most optimistic.

With that in mind, I tore my gaze away before Mask caught me looking. But even as I aimlessly tapped at my phone, I unfortunately had to admit to myself that they looked close, just like Price had said. However, I was still vindicated in my skepticism. Looks were almost always deceiving.

So when Price hurried out to take some call, I took the opportunity to move in. The last thing I needed was the old man fucking up my strategies. I left my coat at my table and slid off my chair, empty glass in hand. There was a space beside Mohawk and I sidled up there, waiting for the bartender to see me. But that was the last thing I was worried about as I eavesdropped. I mimicked studying the high-end bottles on the shelves as Mask rumbled out a low muttering I couldn’t catch.

“You know damn well we’re back at it tomorrow,” he said, loud enough I could hear him now.

“Tomorrow? Nah, mate. Tonight. You saw how fast he ran out of here,” Mohawk shrugged. He leaned back at the same time and accidentally bumped into my side with his back. I jumped and looked at him as he spun around to see who it was he’d run into.

“Sorry, ‘bout that, mate. I…” there was a soft pause as he laid eyes on me, but it was over fast. “I didn’t see you there.” His dark, thick eyebrows shot up as an apologetic expression took over his features.

“It’s alright, I kind of snuck up on you,” I said, putting on an easy smile. I’d thought about keeping my American accent, but decided to slip into a southern London one instead.

“Nonsense. I’ve got to be more aware of my surroundings,” he grinned. Wow, what a disarming smile it was. I returned it, trying to squint in a way that made me look charmed.

I turned a little more to the side to talk with him and watched as Mask went almost fully still. He was listening so intently to me; I was getting a two-for-one deal now. If I wasn’t on duty, I would’ve chuckled at just how protective he seemed to be already. Mohawk’s eyes stayed trained on mine as I gave him my full attention.

“So, what’s a Scotsman like you doing in a little place like this?” I asked.

He took a sip from his glass. “Ah, just a business trip.” A decent lie; delivered well, too.

I let my amusement show through as I replied, “I’ve never seen a businessman with a mohawk like that before.”

Smiles let out a bark of a laugh at the line, all the while Mask leaned forward slowly, his eyes narrowed at me. I kept my gaze turned to Mohawk, though, as if fully intending to lay on more lines. He chuckled a bit and his nostrils flared as he sized me up. He was aware I could play now.

“My company’s pretty lenient.”

I let my teeth show as I grinned back. “And they let you drink on a Sunday night with the lads? Lucky man, you are.”

He rested his arm against the bar top, seeming to settle into the conversation. But something about the way his shoulders tensed made me wonder if I was striking some nerve with my questions. That was all I needed to see to decide to keep pressing on that line.

“So, what amazing company is this, then? What do they do?” I asked, just as the bartender came over. He gestured to my glass and I nodded, passing it to him with a smile.

“It’s a subsidiary of a larger organization. We handle more specific dealings than the parent company,” he said, staying vague but maneuvering well. Quick with his words for a field ops guy. I was a little impressed.

“Like?” I pressed, the word long and drawn out as I leaned in.

“We’re on the HR side. Talent acquisition and whatnot,” Smiles butted in. I leaned over and gave him a wide grin.

“All three of you, then?”

He nodded, lies falling from him just as easily. I hated to admit it, but I was liking these three quite a bit. Or, maybe liking is a bit too strong, appreciating their game was more appropriate. “It’s the Lockheed company. They make heavy weapon parts, we hire the people who actually work there.”

My eyebrows shot up and I nodded, impressed. He had expertly spun a pretty airtight farce. It’d stop most other questions of a random girl at a bar, so I played that role.

I hummed, smirking softly. “An office filled with guys who look like you lot? Are they hiring?”

“Not at the moment,” Mask said, shutting that down hard.

I nodded, swallowing hard and letting out a soft chuckle. “Well, do any of you have a business card or anything?”

“Ah, not on us now,” Smiles said, looking more apologetic.

I turned my gaze back to Mohawk. “Maybe I could just get your number then?”

“Sorry, lass,” he said, his expression finally falling into one of seriousness, “we’re just looking to have a nice night out before we get back to work tomorrow. No time for anything else.”

I shrugged, looking him up and down once. “Your loss, mate. Have a good night, then. And bartender,” I waved, “their next round’s on me.” I grabbed my glass and sauntered back to my table, hopping back up into my chair as if nothing had happened at all.

Price walked back in a few moments later, but I didn’t look over to see how the three men reacted to his presence. I’d already gotten all I needed. For now, it seemed they were good enough to cover my ass if the need arose, and weren’t going to drool over me, seeing as I’d be the only woman within a decently large radius. I waited another good half hour before squaring up my tab, throwing on my coat, and walking into the downpour outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi! Okay, wow, posting on here is strange! I am super new to Tumblr, but I really wanna get into the communities on here. My need for more 141-lovers is insatiable and would just generally like to make more online friends.

If you know how to actually use this platform and would be gracious enough to point me toward how-to posts or help a girl out, I would be infinitely grateful! Also! If you want more of this fic, I’ll be posting it here, but it is also almost done over on Ao3. My username is at the top of the post.

Thank you for reading and not minding my formatting!

[eviemonroeer]

The Monroe Effect: Chapter 42

Set during Season 7, Episode 5 of ER. Spoilers if you haven't seen the show.

Warnings: assumptions of cheating, canonical mentions of death and medical procedures

WC: 2.9 k

ER story belongs to original creators, just adding on my own original charter.

Taglist: @pleasecallmeunhinged, @rainmg, @arigoldsblog, @queenslandlover-93, @hagarsays, @antisocialfiore, @snowflames-world, @guiltypleassure243, @omgbrianab, @dizzybee03, and @secretmoonphantom

MASTERLIST

He knocked on the door that night while I was lying in bed. I had thankfully gotten Meghan back to sleep rather quickly and was staring up into the dark when he got to the door. I stayed quiet, pretending I was asleep. He tried a few times to get me to let him in, calling my name, saying he was sorry. But he eventually gave up and left me alone. I tossed and turned all night, never really truly falling asleep. That’s why I was up when the sun rose. 

I got out of bed and did my morning routine. Meghan woke up after my shower, so I changed and nursed her before taking her downstairs. Corrine was already up and about working, so I sat Meghan in her highchair and grabbed a piece of toast. I kissed her head and said goodbye to Corrine, before I headed to County, purposefully leaving before Carter even woke up. 

“Have you heard from him?” 

Abby looked up at me from the chart in her hand, immediately knowing who I was talking about. “No. He’s not picking up at his hotel.” She paused. “Have you tried?” 

“Once. But I didn’t want to push my luck since I knew you had probably already called.” This time I paused for a moment. “I heard about what happened with you guys. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks.”

There was a weird, awkward tension between us. I hadn’t asked Carter about what happened between them at Doc Magoo’s that night, about what I saw or at least thought I saw. I was too scared of his answer. “Well.....I should get back to work.”

“Do you not like me?” I stopped at her question. “I mean, we seemed at least cordial when I was a med student. And I’ve seen parts of you only certain people have.” I couldn’t help but laugh. She was definitely right about that. “Is it Luka?”

“Oh, no. No.” I stuttered. “I mean kind of. I care about him and want to make sure he’s okay.” I paused and bit my lip. “You and Carter have been getting closer too. I saw you the other night at Doc Magoo’s. And I see you guys talking to each other a lot more lately.”

Her eyebrows shot up and I watched her face go through a myriad of expressions before it finally landed on understanding. “Oh. Oh, I see. Evie, Carter and I aren’t doing anything. He would never do that to you.” She paused, and I could see the gears turning to try and find the right way to say the next part to me. “Carter and I are friends and I’m.....helping him out. It’s not my place to tell you what we’re doing, but I promise we aren’t sneaking around behind your back.”

“Okay.” Was all I said, but tucked the information away for later. Abby looked like she was telling the truth; years of being a nurse helped me learn to read people. But now an even bigger mystery had opened up. “I’ll, uh, see you around.” I simply said, before returning back to admit. I tried to shake everything off, but it was hard. 

“God, this board is a mess.” I groaned, looking up at the growing list of patients and their complaints. 

“We’re backed up.” Randi said, moving papers. “I guess that’s what happens when one doctor doesn’t show up, and Peter Benton is in charge of the ER.”

“Dr. Benton’s in charge today?” 

I turned to see Carter standing there, having finally arrived for his shift. “Yeah. By order of Dr. Romano.” Randi said, rolling her eyes. He nodded and bit the inside of his cheek.

“Hey Evie, we really need—” 

“Here.” I told him, handing him the patient chart of the boy I just triaged. “Kid came in with a laceration to the hand. He’s in the suture room, needs stitches.”

“Evie, come on. Can we please just—” 

“Cut looked pretty nasty. You should get in there.” I motioned my head down the hall, trying to convey in my face that I didn’t want to talk. Carter sighed and took the chart from me, before heading down the hall. I shook my head and took a minute before I turned to the board and put Carter’s initials by the patient’s name. 

“Excuse me.” I turned, coming face to face with an older woman. “Excuse me, has my grandson, Trent Larson, been brought in?”

“Yes. Dr. Carter just went in to check him out and give him stitches.” I said, pointing my pen down the hall towards the suture room. 

“I need to talk to Dr. Carter alone right now.” 

“He’ll come out as soon as he’s seen your grandson.”

“No, I need to talk to him before he treats him.” She came closer to me and lowered her voice. “My grandson has HIV.” 

My eyes went wide. The kid hadn’t disclosed that information when I triaged him. “He didn’t say anything when they brought him in.”

“He doesn’t know.”

My eyebrows felt like they shot up into my hairline. “Okay. Follow me. I’ll go get Dr. Carter.” I led her down the hall and had her wait while I peeked my head into the room. “Dr. Carter, can you step out for a second?”

“Yeah, after I suture this.” He said, preparing to put his gloves on. 

“No, it's important.” I said, trying to convey some seriousness.

He sighed. “I'll be right back.” He told the boy. “Don't pick your nose.” He followed me out. “What?”

“The boy's grandmother. She wants to talk with you.

“Why don't you just bring her in?”

“No, no, she asked to see you alone.” I pulled him into the hall and gestured towards the woman before I walked back to admit. A few minutes later, Carter walked up to admit and grabbed the phone, riffling through a patient file. 

“Thanks for catching me when you did.” He said, placing the phone to his ear.

“No problem.” I replied, trying to give him something resembling a smile. 

Using my patients as an excuse, I left his orbit and fell back into the rush of the busy ER. I gave medicine, restocked the carts and closets, and helped some in triage. It was probably cowardly of me, staying away from him, not talking about what happened. But I was still mad and a part of me inside was saying I had the right of be mad, especially after everything that happened. But then, of course, there was the other part of me that hated being mean to him, screaming at me to go make things right; to be an adult and go talk. But the hospital was not the place to have this conversation. I couldn’t win and was definitely developing a bad headache. 

Elizabeth pulled me in later to help with her and Mark’s heart patient they had brought in, so I tried to put in all my focus on that. I had ran to get a transducer tube for Elizabeth and on my way back to the trauma room, was stopped by Connie.

“Hey Evie, you’re headed back to trauma, right?” Connie asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Give these test results to Carter, please. He’s with a patient and I have to change out four IVs.” 

“Sure.” I took the report from her and sped my walking up back towards Trauma One. Thankfully Carter was outside in the hall, and I could do a quick pass off without talking to him. “Here.” I said, handing Carter the test results. “Lab results for an Emma Miller. Connie told me to give these to you.” 

“Thanks Evie. Hey can we—” 

“Can’t. Have to get them this transducer tube.”  

“But—” 

But I was already walking away into the trauma room. “Here’s the transducer tube.” I said, handing it to Elizabeth. We worked to get him stabilized, and despite things not looking to good in the beginning, he was coming back around by some miracle. “Take a deep breath.” Mark instructed as he listened through his stethoscope. 

“MAP is 78 with the pump.” I told him. 

“Is that good or bad?” The patient asked. 

“It took you out of heart failure and got you off your breathing tube.” Mark replied, putting it back around his neck.

“Sats are up to 99.”

“Okay, let's get him on five liters, nasal cannula. Evie, why don't you grab a blood‐gas kit?” I nodded and went to the cabinet, finding the kit quickly. 

“Where's Janet?” He asked as another nurse handed the cannula to Mark.

“She's trying to get a clerk from City Hall to come issue a marriage license.”

“That's crazy.”

“People in love do crazy things.”

“I wanted to wait for a transplant' so I could chase her down the aisle. I didn't want her to marry a cardiac cripple.”

“If you get a heart, she won't.”

“If one's available. If the tissues match. How long can I last on this pump?”

“Couple of weeks.”

“Pretty lousy odds.”

“They were worse when you were having a heart attack, and the chopper was going down.”

I stayed back, listening to the two men talk, before I stepped in and checked his blood gas. Things were looking okay, at least for right now and the room became less filled. I monitored his breathing and kept track of his vitals, while Mark went to go find the man’s fiancée and the hospital priest. I was in the middle of checking his IV and medication drip when the trauma room next door burst open, and chaos began. I looked over, seeing Kerry working on what looked like a teenager. Chuny walked in, going to grab something from the cabinet. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Poor kid. Carter’s patient from earlier. Got hit by a car.” She found what she was looking for and went back to the other room. I followed her and caught something out of the corner of my eye. 

Carter was standing outside the neighboring trauma, staring in, looking helpless to do anything. 

It was crazy to think I was attending a wedding in the ER. But crazier things had happened. I smiled at the patient and his bride as they listened to the chaplain go through the ceremony. It wouldn’t be legal, but I knew to them it still mattered. As he started talking about union and joy, Carter walked in from next door, his face showing how broken he felt. He made quick eye contact with me before going to the cabinet and pulling out a sterile drape. I looked through the window and saw the nurse disconnect the vent tube. The poor kid didn’t make it. 

I quietly excused myself and followed Carter. I waited by the door as he carefully laid the drape over the deceased boy’s body. Chuny walked a sobbing girl into the room, an arm securely around her. “You can stay as long as you want, okay?” She told her before turning to leave.

“Emma, I am so sorry.” Carter told her as he adjusted the drape, his voice so sincere. 

“Get out of here.” The girl hissed. 

“Emma.” 

“It’s your fault.” 

Carter looked down at the boy before he nodded and left the room. I stayed behind a moment, watching as the poor girl walked up to the side of the gurney. I took a deep breath and followed after Carter, seeing him sign and drop off a chart at admit before going into the lounge. Kerry looked like she was ready to follow him; she had to have noticed his demeanor. 

“Dr. Weaver.” I called out. She turned to me. “I got him.” The red head nodded and gave me a small smile. 

I walked into the lounge and stood by the door as he took off his lab coat and hung it in his locker. “Hi.” I said, my voice small. He turned back to me, his jacket in his hand, ready to throw it on. “I know I haven't been the nicest today." I paused. "Can we talk? Please? Maybe go get dinner for once without our little shadow?”

Carter sighed as he pulled on his jacket and grabbed his bag. “I have a meeting at 9.”

“Then we’ll be quick.” I paused. “You’ll make it. I promise.” 

“Uh, yeah. I’d really like that.” 

“Great. I just need to clock out and we can go.” I turned, but paused and looked back at him. “Please don’t leave. Though I wouldn’t blame you for the payback.” 

He scoffed and put on a small smile. “I won’t. I promise.”  

I don’t know if he did it on purpose or accident, but he took us to the burger place we had gone to on our first date. As he ran inside to get the food, I couldn’t help but remember that day. Normally, I was a plain burger girl, just cheese and maybe a couple of condiments. But being 11 weeks pregnant had made me insatiable for my cravings, because those were the only things I could stomach at the time. We had sat in the car while we ate, two massive cheeseburgers with all the toppings in front of me along with fries and a milkshake. And he had watched me eat every bit of it and didn’t judge me. Just smiled and offered me part of his meal when somehow I wasn’t full.  

I sighed at the memory as I leaned against the window, looking outside at the world. The car door opened and I jumped a little, turning to him. “I hope I got it right.” He said, sliding into the driver’s seat and handing me the takeout bag while he balanced a drink tray and closed the door, locking it for good measure. I pulled out the food slowly. Three burgers, two of which were for him, a giant fry to share, and lots of ketchup packets. “I hope you’re okay with vanilla.” He added, handing me one of the cups. “Sadly, they didn’t have chocolate.” 

“Thanks.” I said, and took it from him. He set up his own food in his lap as I pulled back the paper on my burger. Plain, but with cheese and some condiments. I couldn’t help but smile. He remembered. We ate in silence for a while, our hands occasionally brushing as we reached into the center console for the fries. When I was done, I crumbled up the paper that had been around my burger and put it in the bag, cleaning up before I finally turned to him. 

“Are you and Abby together?” I asked, looking directly at him. He tensed and slowly swallowed the bite of burger he had just taken. “I saw you together at Doc Magoo’s and you’ve been sneaking around talking a lot. If it’s true, can you just please tell me.” I braced myself as I watched him put down his second burger and wipe his face. 

“Abby is my sponsor.”

“Oh.” His sponsor. His NA sponsor. I hadn’t expected that. “Oh okay.”

“Are you and Luka a thing?” He asked, looking right at me this time.

“No.” 

He nodded his head. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I-I just......” He paused and closed his eyes. “I just don’t know how to do this. I want to be able to just fall back into how it was with you. I want to be your friend and your partner again. But I’ve messed everything up.” He paused. “I know you don’t trust me. Especially with Meghan.”

“Carter....”

“I should have told you where I was going. I’m sorry I didn’t. And I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” I reached over and grabbed his hand. “And I trust you, I do. It’s just going to take some time for us to find a comfortable place again.” I reached up with my other hand and cupped his face, using my thumb to stroke his cheek. “But I’m willing to work on it if you are.”

He nodded and let out a deep breath. “Yes. I want that. Badly.”

“Then we’ve got to start talking to each other. Not keeping things in.”

“I’m sorry.” He said again as he pulled up to his meeting. 

“This is the second time you’ve apologized since dinner. I forgive you.” 

He nodded and put the Jeep in park. The car doors shut loudly as we both got out. I walked over to him and crossed my arms. Carter looked like he didn’t know what to say, so I cleared my throat. “I’m gonna go find somewhere to sit while I wait for you to finish. How long does this normally last?”

“About an hour.”

“Ok, great. I’ll pick you up right out here.” I gently squeezed his arm before turning to get in the driver’s side. 

“Would you...... would you want to go in with me?” 

I stopped getting into the car and turned around. “I-I thought that wasn’t allowed.”

“Well, technically it’s an open meeting, so anyone can come.” Carter said putting his hands in his pockets. “But, if-if you don’t want to, I understand.” 

“Uh, no, um.” I stuttered, not willing to let another chance to connect slip through my fingers. “I’ll come with you. Just let me grab my purse.” I turned back to the car and reached over the seat, grabbing my bag. I slung it over my shoulder and closed the Jeep. When I turned back, Carter had his hand out. I looked down at it and then up to him, a sense of pleading on his face. I gave him a small smile and took his hand. 

As we started walking, I felt him squeeze my hand, almost like reassurance that I was actually there. 

[jenn2d2]

A Word With Friends | June 9

I am super privileged to guest again for @hedwigoprah for this week!

This word is another rare descriptor, that honestly sounds more sinister than it is.

Mendacious

Given to or characterized by deception or falsehood or divergence from absolute truth.

mendacious tales of his adventures

Additional context: Mendacious and lying have very similar meanings, but the two are not interchangeable. Mendacious is more formal and literary, suggesting a deception harmless enough to be considered somewhat bland.

(mendaciously adverb) (mendaciousness noun)

My contribution is a small snippet for an unnamed story set before Rook de Riva gets sent off with Varric. (What happens moments before this entry.)

"Vi, I'm not sure I see why you needed to do this right now," Teia perched at the edge of Viago's desk, deceptively calm for someone whose eyes were flashing like a summer storm.

She had appeared abruptly a few moments ago, demanding to know why he had pulled several contracts for review and upending their dinner plans in the process. The contracts in question had been neatly arranged on top of the desk, and now found themselves in an unruly heap shoved to one side. Viago scowled and leaned away, his own thoughts feeling similarly disrupted.

"There's been some... irregularities," he responded. "And if that mendacious blowhard in the Governors' office is to be believed, they lead back to the Crows."

"Yes, I know we've had some rotten luck," Teia sighed in exasperation, leaning forward further and neatly trapping him in place. "I just don't see why you're listening to the lying piece of shit. That man couldn't tell the plain truth to save his life."

Viago inhaled sharply and was flooded both with the scent of her perfume, lush and warm, and the knowledge that if he continued to lean back in his chair he was going to dump them both onto the floor. He was certain that the latter would be a bigger disaster than the problem he was trying to solve at the beginning of the evening.

Viago let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he screwed his eyes shut for a moment to make sure he gave the right response.

"He may exaggerate grossly, but rarely to us," Viago responded after a moment, and careful not to disturb their balance, retrieved the contract nearest to hand. "It looks like he's right, wretched man. Someone is making damn sure we don't have what we need to stay ahead of Antaam patrols."

Teia rolled her eyes, but took the contract and adjusted her position to read, giving him a momentary reprieve. His own spidery hand annotated the document, and she took the time to read each section in detail.

"It's not much," Teia looked at him over the paper and relaxed her shoulders, her display of irritation turning into something harder. "But if I know you, this is probably just one example. We have a traitor."

"Yes," Viago nodded, and took back the paper. "And what is worse, we still lack the information we need. Our contact recommended working with Ivenci directly, but I don't feel like they will be ... amenable."

"Should I update Caterina?" Teia crossed her arms. "She's not going to be happy."

"Yes," Viago agreed to both, feeling sour. "I have one promising lead on the movement schedules, but the time is tight."

"I can go," a voice drifted in from the side of the office as an elven woman with short purple hair climbed in through the window Teia had left open moments earlier. She stood with crossed arms, daring him to ask how long she had been listening. "I got you the lead, I can get you the rest."

____________________________

Sending out no pressure tags to folks who have enjoyed this before!  @strugglinggranola @serensama @tkwritesdumbassassins  @tacoteddy22 @thecraftybaroness @himluv @notyourmamasdeerbat @bubblecat-co @mythals-whore @operative-arrow @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @seaglassmelody  @davrinsleftpectoral @biowaredisasterbisexual @woundedsoul12 @arisofsky, @kai-dimir, @purple-frost @pixiedurango @thedissonantverses

[sunnyferr]

The straw hats with a readerF! with eating disorders.

Headcanons

Warning: We touch on very sensitive topics for the public; bulimia, eating disorders, distress.

Female reader!

When you joined the crew, the first one to notice something odd about you was Sanji. He always offered you something (whether a drink or a snack), but you almost instantly rejected it. At first, he thought you just didn't like his food. However, when they were having dinner at a bar in some town, he saw how you pushed around the food on your plate, taking only small bites. It was worrying for him, so he immediately talked to Nami and Robin about it.

The next one to realize (without Sanji telling her) was Robin. She noticed not only your eating habits but also the time you spent in the bathroom and small unexplained bruises on your skin. She's a very observant woman, noticing almost everything.

Nami was the next to figure it out. Talking with Robin, she noticed certain behaviors and was the first to confront the situation. She spoke with you one afternoon, addressing the issue gently, feeling sorry to hear your voice breaking as you slowly recounted your trauma.

Zoro and Luffy are quite skeptical about this issue. Luffy thinks you give him your food because you're already full or because you love him a lot. Zoro saw how you "played" with the food but didn't pay much attention to it.

But they should find out at some point. One day, Luffy snatched a piece of meat from your plate, knowing you wouldn't eat it, and Nami shouted at the top of her lungs, hitting him on the head. Zoro tried to defend him, saying you wouldn't finish even half of that plate, also receiving a scolding from Nami. After talking with them, they realized (Zoro a bit more than Luffy) that it was a problem they needed to solve, even if Luffy didn't quite understand why since "the meat is delicious," he would do his best to help you.

Usopp and Chopper were informed by Nami. She told them, and the little reindeer is desperate for your health. (No wonder he's your little doctor) constantly monitoring the amounts of food and water you regularly consume, concerned about your likelihood of having esophageal cancer (which is not far-fetched) and your overall health.

Usopp leans more towards the emotional side and how you feel. If you have that disorder, there must be a reason! So he's somewhat like a psychologist (be patient with him, he's trying) trying to unravel your past traumas!

Just like Jinbe, he's aware of how you feel, having long conversations with you. He always emphasizes that you are valuable for who you are, not for how you look, and undoubtedly, there are people who love you for who you are!

Brook, without fail, every morning wakes you up saying you look beautiful and asking if you'll let him see your panties (well… he tries too), just like Sanji and Nami! They always make sure to tell you that you look glorious!

Franky, whenever he sees you, says you look SUPER!, which makes you laugh, striking his classic pose and telling you to join him (it's your choice to accept or not), but he definitely loves making you laugh.

Everyone on the ship is worried about you to a certain extent. They will support you as much as they can and come together to be stronger as a group. Each of them has a story of struggles and achievements, and they want the same for you because you are their family, and they are yours <3

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 19 . It’s Only Responsibility

a/n: omg my fav chapter is finally here. i was so giddy when writing this lol

tags: low-key yandere behavior from Cale, implied torture, if Cale says what he feels is irritability then it's irritability goddammit

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Cale feels as though he can’t get a good grasp on his emotions these days. In particular, he feels as though he feels intense emotions when _____ is thrown into the mix.

Maybe it’s because he feels accountable as he willingly took in the healer.

He doesn’t know when it started, he only noticed he felt that when back at the Gyerre Territory. It was the afternoon after he had destroyed a human trafficker’s house, just before he talked with Antonio. Ron reported that he had finished investigating the Perduellios.

“Young master, this old man took a stroll there and I must say that it’s very filthy. It looks clean from a certain distance but there are rats everywhere once you look closely. No wonder healer-nim grew up with a weak body. Someone like them does not fit that place.”

The redhead didn’t say anything but the servant could tell his listening to every word. 

The young master’s eyes don’t lie after all. 

And right now those eyes are filled with anger. 

Unmeasurable Anger

To the point it made the servant do a double-take.

Despite Cale’s brewing anger he still does everything according to plan. He doesn’t let out a single ounce of that anger until later when his talking to Alberu.

“Your Highness, the future shining sun of the Roan Kingdom. No one is as bright as you. Just seeing your face, even through a communication device, brightens my night and brings me hope for tomorrow.”

“Just tell me what you want. Is it another golden plaque? But you still have some.”

“Not this time your highness.”

Alberu was taken aback at the serious expression on the redhead’s face.

“As you already know, the Perduellios were working with the Chryshis. I trust your highness to handle the Gyerres and the Chryshis. However…”

“You want to handle the Perduellios.”

“We really are alike your highness.”

Alberu already saw this coming so he instantly agreed.

“I’ll allow it on the condition that they must stay in Aunt Tasha’s dungeon. Speaking of Aunt Tasha, she said she also wants a piece.”

“Then I shall be generous enough to share.”

Cale himself isn’t sure how he had the time to meet that bastard family. Between the war against the Indomitable Alliance. Fighting Arm and the Empire, and teaching the nobles a lesson Cale still managed to find free time to visit the Perduellios.

Must be the power of unmeasurable anger.

“Beacrox, Raon prepare to move quietly tonight. We’ll be meeting Tasha.”

The two are confused as to why, but Cale did not explain. He doesn’t need to as they instantly understand after seeing who’s inside the cell they are visiting.

“Young master Cale shouldn’t _____-nim be here?”

Cale looked at Tasha as if she said the most outrageous thing ever. Meanwhile, in the background, Beacrox is preparing his tools as Raon supplies information as to what the healer went through.

“Why would they be here when I’m doing this to relieve stress? I’m here to act trash, that’s not something an unofficial holy maiden should see.”

The next morning Alberu regrets taking a peak before the cell was cleaned up. He doesn’t think he can light up any of his beloved candles for at least a week.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Succeeding that incident, the next time Cale was overtaken by his emotions was after Operation Reflection. Unlike the last time, Cale felt two conflicting emotions this time.

Skyrocketing Pride and Plumeting Disgust

_____ was a core player during the navy battle and that made the redhead proud. Of course, he was also proud of everyone else in their group.

…but perhaps his a bit more proud of the healer.

However, it was only because they had come a long way. As Cale’s responsibility, his proud that the healer is doing better under his guidance.

Nothing more, nothing less.

“Human, those useless noble bastards were also talking bad about our _____ when you left. Some of them even had the nerve to directly yell at them. I wanted to smack them, but you told me to not do anything to those people for now so I didn't."

But then Raon’s report came.

Pride had been washed over by disgust.

Good thing _____ had talked him out of doing anything rash.

“Cale it’s okay. People who only know how to leech off other people are not worth your time.”

Did he mention how proud he is of how far _____ has come? Because he really is.

However, rumours say that it was the night after that when Cale first ‘visited’ the Perduellios.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Cale’s next overwhelming emotion is something his already familiar with. He already felt it back when they were in the Whipper Kingdom.

In fact, he has already associated this feeling with the healer.

Heart Palpitating Distress

But this time it feels more intense. Cale feels as if his heart is going to crawl out of his chest and into his mouth.

Thump!!

Thump!!

The redhead had been acting as though nothing was wrong ever since they finished the battle at Castle Leona. Contrary to his calm exterior, the redhead is a mess on the inside.

A wound, a stab wound with a lot of blood gushing.

Just inches near _____ heart.

And Cale has a strong gut feeling that it was _____’s own doing.

Seeing the copious amount of blood they lost was already bad enough. Seeing the nasty wound itself when they had to change the bandages was worse.

Then as if that isn’t enough to send Cale into a coma, the healer had the audacity to stand up not even 12 hours after their injury.

It was at that moment the commander made a conscious choice of sticking the healer to him like velcro.

+~+~+~+~+~

Nowadays, Cale is not ping-ponging between his emotions like a madman. But he did notice that he tends to feel a particular emotion these days.

Jealo– Irritability

Cale isn’t sure why he feels irritated, but he does. He feels irritated as soon as _____ woke up and started talking to Bud.

What happened during the week he was gone that those two are all friendly now?

And what was that? Bud is going to teach _____ how to drink?

Not on Cale’s watch.

It’s one thing for him if _____ themself wants to try drinking, but he won’t let the healer be coerced by some fool.

“Ron, separate those two as much as possible. That drunkard is nothing but a nuisance to _____.”

For a moment Cale got the chills when he heard Ron chuckle. It doesn’t help that the kids are laughing too. Regardless, it looks like the servant will heed his request so he lets it be.

But his jea– irritability doesn’t end there.

The next victim of Cale’s so-called irritable mood was this poor servant in Mogoru.

When Cale got back to Mogoru he unfortunately had to leave _____ back in the castle. There are too many undercover missions they have to do. And while _____ is much better than Choi Han at undercover missions, that man is a lot of things but an actor is not one of them, Cale isn’t cruel enough to make them take on such a taxing mission after being sick.

So he leaves the healer in the Mogoru Castle with Rosalyn and the others. 

“Young master-nim what about assigning a dedicated servant for healer-nim?”

Was Rosalyn’s suggestion after Cale mentioned _____’s tendency to overwork themself.

It seemed like a good idea, therefore they arranged for the healer to have a servant. The servant’s job would consist of making sure the Medicus is eating and resting properly. That servant would also act as _____’s assistant, taking care of whatever the healer needs.

At that time, Cale was satisfied with that plan.

That satisfaction quickly changed when he visited Adin’s room, (well, it’s practically _____ and Cale’s room now) and saw how the healer kept calling the servant’s name. In the beginning, it was fine, Cale didn’t mind it. But then he noticed how _____ seems to call for that servant every 5 sentences they utter.

Honestly? Even Cale knows his acting irrationally this time.

Did he care though? Of course not. Since when did trash care for another person’s feelings?

So he stationed that servant far away.

“Raon make a call in the underground villa. I must talk to Hans”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Ignoring Hannah’s snickering that turned into full-blown laughter, Cale called Hans over to assist the healer.

Because if the healer is going to rely on someone who’s not Cale, then it might as well be one of his people.

This one is a totally logical decision on Cale’s end. It’s not because of his jea– irritability.

It’s definitely just part of him being responsible over _____.

[aspd-culture]

Welcome back. You’re very informative.

I’m very confused about how numerous people, from you, to other antisocial people speaking from their experiences (some of which I learned are actually friends) to prosocial researchers of ASPD say that antisocial people see relationships as transactional. It’s not weird that you guys see it that way, it’s more like “and prosocials… don’t???” Because I’m certain I’m prosocial. I’m neurodivergent, sure, but no signs of ASPD. So, how do most prosocial people typically view relationships if they’re not transactional?

So I find prosocials and pwASPD both tend to think “but doesn’t everybody” when we hear this - it’s a super undescriptive term - but we’re thinking different things define something as transactional. We also see the reason for that transaction to be different.

From a prosocial generally, they’ll mean “I only want to be around people that ‘don’t drain my energy’, that don’t just take take take, that we mutually enjoy the friendship/relationship and want to be around each other”. That’s kinda their definition of getting something out of it, and they want everyone to get something out of it. If they’re draining you, they want you to be free of it so you can be happy, and the transactions involved can be purely emotional/vibes. The reason they feel this way is a desire for positive and enjoyable social connection; the consequence for an uneven/bad/missing transaction is discomfort and wasting their time in negative experiences and generally feeling bad in association with that person.

PwASPD see those transactions very very literally. There’s no vibes nor emotions in the transactions, those are either a reaction to the transaction or a bonus. We mean that we are getting something tangible or practical out of it. Rides, help with things we can’t or don’t want to do alone, sex, maybe even the social relief from the annoyance of “why don’t you ever talk to anyone?” coming from all sides. We also don’t always care if it’s even on the other person’s end. If they’re ok driving me everywhere/if they do it and don’t say or show they’re uncomfortable, then I will assume they are fine with that piece of the transaction. If I’m taking more than I’m giving and they seem chill with that then I’ll accept it. However, I won’t give them *nothing* and that’s because of our reason for transactions - it’s dangerous otherwise. First off, I have shit I need I can’t get myself as much as it sucks, so I need to be around people. But if we need something from them, what we learned in our childhoods is that we don’t get that for free. There’s always something over your head. A lot of pwASPD had friends or caregivers that would hold favors or even *basic, legally-mandated caregiving* over our heads as though we didn’t deserve it. Often our value was determined as a child by what we provided, and since children can’t provide much, we were worthless and not deserving of good treatment.

This is part of the reason (TW non-descriptive CSA mention, skip to the next paragraph if you want) that people thought ASPD was directly correlated with CSA for a long time - many cases of long term CSA come from either “I’ll give you x/do x for you if you help me with this” or worse, doing something first then saying “but I gave you X!/did X for you! I wouldn’t have if I knew you’d act like this”, often call us selfish if we tried to say no and maybe get aggressive or forceful after, and that is an easy lead-in to our view of interactions.

So a lot of us see it that if we want to be safe/know we can continue to get what we need, we HAVE to be giving them something. If you claim you like being around me “just to be around me” or worse that you’re willing to do something for me “just because I want to”, that’s not safe. You want something from me and I’ll give it to you - just tell me what it is. If you’re not telling me, that means it’s not good or you’re just gonna decide later that I’m selfish. You might hurt me to get what you want and justify it with this. Take something from my side so we’re even, because even means safe. Even means I get access to what I need and you get access to what you need - so now we’re both using this relationship/friendship/etc for something and you wouldn’t wanna mess that up by putting me in danger any more than I’d want to mess it up by putting you in danger.

Of course, not every prosocial sees it the first way and not every pwASPD had those experiences and/or sees it that way. But that’s what I’ve found to be common. If you see “they make me happy” as what your or their end of the transaction is, it’s definitely a prosocial response, maybe with the exception of thinking of it as “getting their brain to dopamine/oxytocin” vs caring how they’re actually feeling. If not, if you need it to be practical, that’s definitely transactional.

It’s important to note this is personal relationships with no practical consequences to ending the relationship - most people see relationships (platonic) with coworkers or managers as transactional and that’s a way I usually explain it to prosocials (“do you deal with your boss bc you like them or bc they sign your check - and would your boss keep you hired if you didn’t do your job because you make them happy just by being there?”). But with a romantic or sexual partner, a friend, etc. this is not a typical view of relationships.

That said - you can *absolutely* not have ASPD and have transactional view of relationships. It’s not a 1:1 thing there; not everyone with ASPD has it and not every prosocial doesn’t. It’s just a really common piece of the puzzle that is this personality disorder.

Edit: ack I’m so sorry I forgot to add the csa tw tags they’re there now.

Plain text below the cut:

So I find prosocials and pwASPD both tend to think “but doesn’t everybody” when we hear this - it’s a super undescriptive term - but we’re thinking different things define something as transactional. We also see the reason for that transaction to be different.

From a prosocial generally, they’ll mean “I only want to be around people that ‘don’t drain my energy’, that don’t just take take take, that we mutually enjoy the friendship/relationship and want to be around each other”. That’s kinda their definition of getting something out of it, and they want everyone to get something out of it. If they’re draining you, they want you to be free of it so you can be happy, and the transactions involved can be purely emotional/vibes. The reason they feel this way is a desire for positive and enjoyable social connection; the consequence for an uneven/bad/missing transaction is discomfort and wasting their time in negative experiences and generally feeling bad in association with that person.

PwASPD see those transactions very very literally. There’s no vibes nor emotions in the transactions, those are either a reaction to the transaction or a bonus. We mean that we are getting something tangible or practical out of it. Rides, help with things we can’t or don’t want to do alone, sex, maybe even the social relief from the annoyance of “why don’t you ever talk to anyone?” coming from all sides. We also don’t always care if it’s even on the other person’s end. If they’re ok driving me everywhere/if they do it and don’t say or show they’re uncomfortable, then I will assume they are fine with that piece of the transaction. If I’m taking more than I’m giving and they seem chill with that then I’ll accept it. However, I won’t give them *nothing* and that’s because of our reason for transactions - it’s dangerous otherwise. First off, I have shit I need I can’t get myself as much as it sucks, so I need to be around people. But if we need something from them, what we learned in our childhoods is that we don’t get that for free. There’s always something over your head. A lot of pwASPD had friends or caregivers that would hold favors or even *basic, legally-mandated caregiving* over our heads as though we didn’t deserve it. Often our value was determined as a child by what we provided, and since children can’t provide much, we were worthless and not deserving of good treatment.

This is part of the reason (TW non-descriptive CSA mention, skip to the next paragraph if you want) that people thought ASPD was directly correlated with CSA for a long time - many cases of long term CSA come from either “I’ll give you x/do x for you if you help me with this” or worse, doing something first then saying “but I gave you X!/did X for you! I wouldn’t have if I knew you’d act like this”, often call us selfish if we tried to say no and maybe get aggressive or forceful after, and that is an easy lead-in to our view of interactions.

So a lot of us see it that if we want to be safe/know we can continue to get what we need, we HAVE to be giving them something. If you claim you like being around me “just to be around me” or worse that you’re willing to do something for me “just because I want to”, that’s not safe. You want something from me and I’ll give it to you - just tell me what it is. If you’re not telling me, that means it’s not good or you’re just gonna decide later that I’m selfish. You might hurt me to get what you want and justify it with this. Take something from my side so we’re even, because even means safe. Even means I get access to what I need and you get access to what you need - so now we’re both using this relationship/friendship/etc for something and you wouldn’t wanna mess that up by putting me in danger any more than I’d want to mess it up by putting you in danger.

Of course, not every prosocial sees it the first way and not every pwASPD had those experiences and/or sees it that way. But that’s what I’ve found to be common. If you see “they make me happy” as what your or their end of the transaction is, it’s definitely a prosocial response, maybe with the exception of thinking of it as “getting their brain to dopamine/oxytocin” vs caring how they’re actually feeling. If not, if you need it to be practical, that’s definitely transactional.

It’s important to note this is personal relationships with no practical consequences to ending the relationship - most people see relationships (platonic) with coworkers or managers as transactional and that’s a way I usually explain it to prosocials (“do you deal with your boss bc you like them or bc they sign your check - and would your boss keep you hired if you didn’t do your job because you make them happy just by being there?”). But with a romantic or sexual partner, a friend, etc. this is not a typical view of relationships.

That said - you can *absolutely* not have ASPD and have transactional view of relationships. It’s not a 1:1 thing there; not everyone with ASPD has it and not every prosocial doesn’t. It’s just a really common piece of the puzzle that is this personality disorder.

Edit: ack I’m so sorry I forgot to add the csa tw tags they’re there now.

[seriouslycalamitous]

Hi! It’s the writing anon again, thank you for your advice, it was very much appreciated!

Um, I was wondering how you make sure scenes don’t pass too quickly, or that nothing comes across as very confusing for the reader? I usually write very rushed, so everything gets jumbled up really easily. That’s one of the main things I’m worried about. Sorry if you aren’t wanting questions like this! Feel free to ignore it.

-✨

Great question! And don’t worry, I love answering writing-based questions. Gotta be one of my favorite topics! For future reference, you and anyone else with questions can send them my way at any time!

(If you couldn’t tell, i tend to get carried away. Please enjoy the next several paragraphs of me explaining.)

First things first, keeping things within the range of understandable for your reader.

What you immediately need to know is that your reader isn’t dumb. They can figure stuff out better than you might assume. Mentioning a magic crystal in passing will help them put the pieces together in their head that ‘oh, this is a world with magic replacing electricity’ or something of the sort.

Sometimes, you do have to explain topics more, especially if they’re relevant for your POV character to understand. Use simpler language, don’t overwhelm the character or the audience with terms and world elements that they might not already know.

If you want to make a callback to something a character already knows, to give both them and the audience some anchoring and understanding, have them remember a piece of dialogue or a memory from an earlier piece of the story. You can frame it like a very very very brief flashback where they hear the words echo in their head, or summarize it, like “he remembered the time this guy told him not to go to this place. now he knew why.”

Try not to do this often. Thoughts and memories are fine, but if you do it too often, the audience will feel like you don’t trust them to recall these details.

Most importantly, take it slow. Don’t over-explain things or try to fit every single detail of world-building at once. Spacing things out so they come up in relation to the scene or conversation topic can help with this.

Foreshadowing is a great element to help readers get accustomed to themes as well. It doesn’t necessarily need to be some big plot-altering detail to be worthy of foreshadowing. It can absolutely apply to personality traits, magic, world-building, and stuff of that nature.

Dropping hints here and there, like certain details that you sprinkle in but mostly gloss over can make information easier to deliver later, and can give your story good re-read value!

Unfortunately, something quite a few writers, including myself, struggle with is where the cut off of relevant information begins. If your character is a guy rebuilding an abandoned temple to fulfill a debt, we probably don’t need to spend a lot of time — or any, actually — discussing the different forms of currency in this world, or the gender roles of a household, or the supremely different fashion choices around town.

You can spend a little time on each if necessary, but a character like this might rather notice the types of architecture around them over anything else. Even then, those are details you should keep short and use when necessary, since your character might like architecture, but it’s admittedly a little boring if you spend longer than a paragraph or two on it.

As for scenes not passing too quickly, there’s some quick, simple tricks to make that work while also keeping your flow natural.

Dialogue is great, but people in real life don’t tend to ramble as much as they do in readings. If you need to, have your characters stop speaking every now and again to breathe, think over certain topics, perform an action, etc. It makes the scene go on longer, and gives readers more time to process what’s happening.

Thoughts are, perhaps, the easiest things to help a scene go on longer. Have a character think about the way someone’s acting, the way they look, the way the world around them is reacting to their situation, or the tone within which another character is speaking. Try to make life easier on yourself by avoiding action words like “thought” or “thinks” and their synonyms

Too much “he thought about the time she did this” will also feel like spoon-feeding your reader. “She had done stuff like this before” can be enough. It implies a memory without outwardly reminding us that these memories don’t actually exist beyond what is being told to us on the page.

I know this is a lot and I may not have touched on everything in the most helpful way, but i hope this makes at least a little sense!

[sweetfashionistas-blog]

Shadows of the Past

Summary: Ciel and Sebastian visit the Undertaker's workshop for information on a mysterious shipment. They meet a mysterious figure who hints at a connection to Ciel's past and provides what's needed details. Undertaker returns, and as they leave, Ciel is left with unsettling questions about the stranger's cryptic remarks.

Sebastian pushed open the door to Undertaker's workshop, the faint chime of the bell announcing their entrance. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the faint odor of embalming fluid, casting an eerie atmosphere over the dimly lit room. Shadows danced across the walls, accentuated by the flickering candlelight, creating an almost surreal environment.

"Good evening," Sebastian greeted, his voice smooth as silk. "We're here to see the Undertaker."

From behind a cluttered workbench, a figure emerged, wiping their hands on a stained apron. They looked up, a mischievous smile playing on their lips. "Ah, you're looking for the Undertaker? I'm afraid he's... indisposed at the moment."

Ciel's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on his cane. "And who might you be?" He demanded not one to appreciate surprises or deviations from his plans.

The person chuckled softly, a melodic sound that seemed out of place in the somber workshop. "I'm just a... temporary replacement, you could say. The name's irrelevant. But I might be able to help you with whatever it is you seek."

Ciel glanced at Sebastian, who gave a suitable nod, indicating that they should proceed cautiously. Turning back to the stranger, Ciel's gaze was steely. "We're looking for information regarding a certain shipment that recently arrived in London. The undertaker was supposed to have details."

The stranger's smile widened, their eyes glistening with a hint of mischief. "Ah, yes. The shipment. I do know a thing or two about that. But first, tell me, young Phantomhive, why do you seek such dangerous knowledge?"

Ciel's eyes flashed with irritation. "That is none of your concern. Now do you have the information or not?"

The person tilted their head, observing Ciel with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. "You know, you have your father's eyes."

Ciel's breath hitched, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "What did you say?"

"Nothing of importance," the stranger replied with a dismissive wave. "Follow me. The information you need is in the back."

As they walked through the labyrinth of the workshop, passing by caskets, ornate tombstones, and bizarre artifacts, Ciel couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this encounter than met the eye. Sebastian, ever the silent observer, seemed equally intrigued, his eyes never leaving the mysterious figure leading them.

The stranger paused at a heavy oak door, turning to face Ciel. "One piece of advice, young earl. Sometimes, the answers we seek lead to truths we're not ready to face."

Ciel stiffened, his resolve hardening. "I'm not afraid of the truth."

The person nodded, pushing the door open to reveal a room filled with dusty tomes and ancient artifacts. The air was heavy with the weight of history, and the dim light from the solitary candle cast long shadows across the floor.

"Very, well then. Let's find what you're looking for," the stranger said, moving towards a shelf lined with weathered books.

Ciel watched as the person expertly pulled out a thick, leather-bound volume, flipping through the pages with practiced ease. "Here," they said, pointing to a section filled with cryptic notes and diagrams. "This contains details about the shipment you're interested in. It arrived at the docks under the guise of a mundane cargo, but its true nature is far more... Sinister."

Ciel stepped closer, peering at the intricate drawings and coded messages. "What does this mean?" He asked, his voice a mixture of curiosity and impatience.

The stranger sighed, closing the book gently. "It means, young earl, that you're entangled in something far greater than a simple shipment. Forces are at play that you cannot yet comprehend."

Ciel's eyes met the stranger's, a silent challenge in his gaze. "And, you? How do you fit into all of this?"

A cryptic smile curled on the person's lips. "Let's just say, our destinies are more intertwined than you might think."

Before Ciel could press any further, the door creaked open, and the familiar, unsettling laugh of Undertaker filled the room. "Ah, I see you met my... temporary assistant. Finding everything you need, I hope?"

Ciel turned, his mind racing with questions, but now was not the time. He had the information he needed, but the encounter had left him with a gnawing sense of unease and curiosity.

As they made their way out of the workshop, the stranger's words echoed in Ciel's mind. Unbeknownst to him, he had just brushed against a hidden chapter of his family's history, one that would soon reveal itself in ways he could never have anticipated.