#are you thinking about plot possibilities?

[eeriesilkworm]

Why I think the flashback scene in ST5 is about Lonnie (and Mike and Jonathan's complicated relationship...)

CW: This post discusses potential spoilers and mentions implied abuse (It's about Lonnie, after all...) proceed with caution!

So, we already know about the casting call for a scene featuring 8-year-old Mike and Will, and 13-year-old Jonathan.

I've had multiple thoughts about what this scene could be (so many possibilities!) but after reading a leak regarding this scene, I've finally settled on (an admittedly speculative) theory.

(Of course, not all leaks are accurate, so take this with a grain of salt. And if you’re avoiding spoilers, consider this your cue to stop reading!)

Based on the leak, here’s what we know about the scene so far:

It is not a supernatural or horror-based memory (unlike Will’s 1983 flashbacks of the Upside Down).

It takes place on a school set (likely Hawkins Elementary, which makes sense if they’re reusing sets e.g. Holly Wheeler’s school).

The scene includes multiple parallels to Season 2.

This made me wonder: what Season 2 themes involving Mike, Will, and Jonathan could be echoed here—without needing the supernatural?

It’s difficult to answer because Will’s entire plot in Season 2 revolves around the supernatural. Namely, his possession by the Mind Flayer. But if this flashback isn’t supernatural, maybe the show is drawing on what the Mind Flayer represents: trauma, fear, and abuse.

The Mind Flayer as an allegory for trauma and PTSD

I don’t need to make this section long—most fans are acutely aware that the Mind Flayer is associated with trauma and PTSD. This is supported by the fact that these hauntings begin when the anniversary of Will’s abduction approaches, and that Will is diagnosed with PTSD by Dr Owens. The only thing that people may need convincing of, is that the Mind Flayer (and Upside Down) serve as allegory not just for trauma, but for Will’s specific trauma concerning his father. @greenfiend has an excellent series which delves into this theory.

Will is good at hiding

Season 2 also clearly shows us what Will's primary trauma response is: He initially freezes, be he also runs and hides. The way Will ran and hid behind the stairs on Halloween seemed practiced to me. Like he had done this before. He doesn't panic, and he doesn't keep running. He chooses to close his eyes and hide in a self-soothing position.

In fact, Jonathan himself has said that Will is good at hiding:

He wouldn't know this if he hadn't witnessed Will hiding before. In fact, Will being good at hiding implies he is also difficult to find.

It would make sense for us to see this play out: Will hiding, and Jonathan attempting to find him. And if Mike is also there, and we're paralleling Season 2, then that means...

Mike is good at finding

Despite Will being good at hiding, Season 2 also showed us that Mike is good at finding him. There are three Mind Flayer associated scenes in which Mike is the one to find Will, and in two of them, he's also the one who breaks him out of the visions.

He spots him outside the arcade:

He's the first to find him at Halloween: "I couldn't find you!"

And he's the first to find Will outside Hawkins Middle on the field: "I just found him like this!"

The 1979 Theory

If we're able to acknowledge that the Mind Flayer serves as an allegory for trauma and PTSD, then the gates which allowed the Mind Flayer to penetrate Hawkins (and Will by extension) are also relevent.

Interestingly, the first gate was opened by El in 1979. In this flashback—if Mike and Will are aged 8 years old—that means it also takes place in 1979.

I've made a fairly visual (rather than analytical) post about what I think may have happened to Will in 1979 and how it parallels the Hawkins Lab Massacre.

(Content warning: while nothing is explicit, the subject matter involves implied child abuse).

TL;DR: I believe Lonnie’s abuse escalated in 1979, and it marked a significant trauma for Will—one that he likely repressed or fragmented, much like El did with her memories of the massacre. That would make 1979 a foundational year for both of them: the year their “gates” were opened.

Jonathan’s guilt (the Mike vs Jonathan argument leak)

Additonally, there is a leak which claims Mike and Jonathan will get into an argument about Will's safety this season.

If this ends up being true, I think it will feed into this flashback scene as well. Specifically, Jonathan's guilt and possible quiet resentment of Mike.

I say resentment because Jonathan has made it clear that he views Will as his best friend. He also took on a somewhat parental role helping to raise Will, despite only being 4 years older. He likely feels that Will’s safety and wellbeing is his responsibility.

However, the show has also told us that children aren’t always honest with their parents/ family, but they usually tell their friends everything:

Once again, I’ll point to my previous post about 1979, and the fact that I believe there is something concerning Lonnie’s abuse that Mike is somewhat privy to, that Joyce and Jonathan are not. Because Will told Mike things he didn't tell anyone else.

Jonathan on the other hand, is concerned and insecure that Will no longer comes to him when he needs help or advice.

He said so himself in Season 4:

Jonathan also has a track record of not being around when bad things happen to Will—or not being the one to "rescue" him—but Mike usually is:

Will was at Mike's house before he went missing, and Jonathan was supposed to be waiting at home for him. While Jonathan was focused on capturing the Demogorgon, Mike was focused on finding Will.

Will was trick-or-treating with Mike when he was chased by the Mind Flayer, and Jonathan was at a party when he was supposed to be supervising Will. While Jonathan was partying, Mike brought Will home to his place.

When Will was possessed by the Mind Flayer, Mike stayed by his side the entire time, while Jonathan met with Murray to expose the Hawkins Lab scandal.

It was Mike's memory of meeting Will for the first time that allowed Will to (partially) break out of his possession and use morse code.

None of these are Jonathan's fault, but he has clearly expressed guilt:

If an argument does break out between Mike and Jonathan this season, I think it will be fuelled by exactly that: Jonathan’s quiet resentment and frustration that Mike keeps “butting in,” keeps (trying) to protect Will in ways that Jonathan believes should be his responsibility.

And if emotions run high, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mike snaps back with something like, “Well, I’ve actually been there when Will needed someone. Can you say the same?”

Likewise—Jonathan, who is aware of Will's romantic feelings for Mike—would find that quite rich coming from him, as he's witnessed his brother's heart break.

So for Mike to throw Will’s emotional well-being back in Jonathan’s face? That would cut deep. It would feel hypocritical. And that’s what would make the fight so compelling—two people who love Will deeply, clashing over how to protect him, while unknowingly tearing open wounds they both helped shape.

In this post I point out that Mike and Jonathan's "heart-to-heart" conversations with Will in ST4 were very similar: they were both seeking reconnection with him and expressing concern that they have become distant.

This tension will culminate in Season 5.

How it culminates (my actual theory regarding the flashback)

I speculate that the flashback will show Jonathan arriving at Hawkins Elementary to pick Will up from school, only to find out that Will isn’t where he’s supposed to be. But not because he got lost—because he’s hiding.

The reason why Will is hiding may not be explicitly stated, but it's because he's scared to go home—scared to see Lonnie.

Jonathan will search for Will, but it will likely be Mike who finds him first, or Mike who is already with him (and alerts Jonathan).

Mike also might already have an inkling as to why Will doesn’t want to go home. Because friends don’t lie. Because friends tell each other things they don’t tell parents.

He might even offer to let Will come stay at his place—a callback to what he does years later in Season 2, when he says he’ll "take him home" and brings him to the Wheeler house instead.

This flashback will be seen from either Mike or Jonathan's perspective, as Will's memories of 1979 are likely spotty. It will also highlight the dynamic between the three: Jonathan and Mike are both similarly protective of Will due to their affection for him. But this also creates wounds:

Because Mike feels helpless to protect Will from harm, even if he is always there for him, and Jonathan is frustrated by Will's habit of repressing and hiding his pain.

Well, that's my theory. What do you guys think the flashback scene will be about?

[saetiate]

call it what it is. (or, the five times sae and you are "just friends". and the one time it stops being possible to deny what this really is.)

itoshi sae x f!reader fluff. friends to lovers, first kiss, how love happens, reader goes by she/her pronouns and has some personality (sorry, i couldn't get around it bc of The Plot but i kept it as minimal as possible) word count: 2.3k author's note: you both have a whole dinner date, go to events together, take care of each other, and then get surprised when people think you're dating??? okay so the sound of fireworks are less obvious than whatever yall have going on

Bitterness churns at the back of your throat. Is it from the roasted beans of the coffee you've been slamming into your system for the last few days, or from the lack of sleep?

Not that it matters. You've worked OT, both your team and your clients are unhappy, and according to your Excel worksheet, you're on your 85th job application. So really, it doesn't get worse than —

The doorbell rings.

Who the actual —

You breathe out the biggest sigh at the pretty face standing before you. It's definitely the lack of sleep, isn't it? Either you really should've checked the peephole and put on something a little more flattering, or he's a hallucination.

Let's hope it's the latter. You move to close the door, and his hand reaches out lightning-quick, holding it still. In a spark of annoying rebellion, you press all of your body weight against the door, and it doesn't budge an inch.

Right. Athletes and their stupid, stupid strength.

"You didn't answer my calls."

They say sighing is a necessary part of your lungs, that one of the struggles of artificial lungs was getting them to sigh. You wonder if it meant this many times in a day. "Sae, I'm busy. Wait, I didn't answer your calls? You don't answer my texts 90% of the time."

Then he's in your entryway, because of course you can't argue where your neighbors can hear, that's rude. But then he's in your kitchen, washing his hands, opening your fridge.

"There's nothing in here. When's the last time you took a shower?"

"You come here just to insult me?"

A towel hits your face with an oof before it falls into your arms.

"Sae," you try again, as the towel slides down your cheek, "You can't just barge in here and —"

20 minutes later, there's two steaming bowls of katsu curry rice on your now-clean desk. Sae opens up the little ziplock of togarashi, leans it against your bento box with more care than you'd expect.

"Itakadimasu."

~

It's the strangest thing, walking into your place only for someone to already be in there. How the noise cuts through, something unbelonging but welcomed.

"You know, giving you the key wasn't so you could just walk in here whenever you want. It was for emergencies only."

The only answer you get is the smell of onions being caramelized, crackled sparks of savory in the air.

"I answered your call," you continue, undressing behind a half-open door. "So this can't be an emergency. And you have a much nicer place than this."

Sae barely glances at you as your head peeks into the kitchen. "You could stay there."

"What, with you? Like we're roommates? Nah, you'd see what a mess I am."

"I'm already seeing it."

A spatula waves in little circles around the pan.

“What are you doing here, Sae?”

Like he's already braced for the question, the refrigerator light beacons out into the descending night. Your favorite wine passes from his hand to yours.

"Got gifted it," he responds before you can even ask. You could've caught him looking at you, but the gold label glints with stars in your eyes.

"How'd you get gifted icewine? You've never talked about it in an interview."

He doesn't tell you he asked his manager for recommendations, that he knows they let it slip to someone looking for a brand deal with him. Instead, he watches as you struggle to pop the cork open, the xylophone clink of ice into twin wine glasses.

"So you do like sweet things," you comment as the nectared drink meets your tongue with a smile. There's a reverence to it: how he watches you chop the vegetables before sliding them into the pan, how the last remnants of today's sunlight filter through the window and past your hair.

Sweet things. He supposes he does like something like that.

~

"This event, is it a big deal?"

He vaguely hears a ruffle of clothing behind the half-shut bathroom door, lightstream swept across the floor. He offered you what he knows his teammates get their wives for these events — stylist, makeup artists — but he watched you stand in his bathroom layering on eyeshadow for yourself anyways.

I don't trust anyone else to touch me. A simple statement made stark.

"Sorry, Sae. Could you help zip me up please?"

Maybe it's that implication, that hidden trust you place in him, that makes his exhale a little shaky as one of his hands wraps around your waist to hold the dress down, the other carefully pulling up metal piece up.

You've often thought athletes would naturally be aggressive. You've seen Sae make a fast pass across the entire field without breaking a sweat. But when his hands are on you, they're always light. You think of the falling of snow, its soft and silent touch that comes unexpected, the easy descent it makes before it melts into the ground.

Love is a little like that, maybe.

~

It's a common feeling, to feel as if you're completely alone in this world. Easy to get into your own head, to see only yourself within four walls again and again and forget that there is a whole world outside. It's logical, well-researched, known. It's because of that that you can factor out the feelings when it hits you.

The four walls has never felt as striking as now, coughing into the hollow quiet. The morbid thought strikes that if you died here, no one would know. They'd find your body days later, after the smell starts to waft out.

But you chose this. To move and to fight and to create a life worth living. You, with your ambitions and heavy heart and endless survival faith that makes you somehow believe you can still make it. Sometimes you have to force a door close before wrenching another one open with nothing but your bare hands. Sometimes you have to swallow all your pride and roll up your sleeves and pray to no higher gods you worship that the decision you made is worth it.

You think you hear something click as your mind fogs back and forth into sleep. You hope whoever's burgling you will at least leave you alone and only take what they need. You hear your name, and then a shuffle, and god this is really the worst time to have a stalker.

The back of a hand over your forehead is cool to the touch, the night's breeze still pressed between the molecules.

"You're sick."

Thank you, intruder, for pointing out the obvious is what you want to say. But instead, your head lulls heavily to the side. "I just need to rest for a bit."

"You need a hospital."

"I'm fine. I'm just- being dramatic. But I'm fine."

Your world tips on its axis, warmth blooming into your side. He lifts you into his arms soundlessly. You almost envy how effortless it is for him; the weight you carry is so heavy when you're carrying it yourself.

It's only halfway towards his car that you find yourself processing, finally speaking, "Thank you, Sae."

There's a sharp intake of breath from him, the hard line of his body protecting you from the night's chilled-sweet air. His heartbeat against your ear is as steady as the shore, the way it waits for the kiss of the tide.

"Just call me next time."

~

Sae's not sure how he feels about this.

It's his first time being late when he's meant to be taking you to this event. He moves fast through the crowd, searches with keen eyes. Chandeliers flicker and crystal-light dances —

Only to find you propped up against the wall, Rin leaning down close.

Sae might be less confused if Rin didn't look — for what might be the first time at an event ever — like he actually wanted to be there. He's listening to you with all his attention, has no problem being in your space.

Sae only approaches once you've been whisked away by Bachira.

"Why were you talking to her?"

Rin whips around, and instead of looking guilty, he's in wide-eyed shock, and then narrow-eyed annoyance. "Ha? She's your girlfriend, isn't she?"

Sae blinks. Did he say that? He would've remembered, wouldn't he?

"You good-for-nothing older brother," Rin's voice is a grunt, nothing like the sweetness he gave you. "You didn't even introduce me. I had to fucking find out through Isagi."

"How does Isagi know?"

"Oliver."

"How does Oliver know?"

Rin gives him an begrudged, deadpan look. "He's your teammate?"

That explains nothing. Actually, Sae is even more confused. He has about a dozen more questions.

"She's nice." Rin mumbles low, playing with the stem of his wine glass, watches as it almost tips before swooping it back up.

"You like her?"

"I think she's nice." Rin grits, and Sae really doesn't know how Rin gets away with faux passes on the field when his reactions are this obvious, because he watches how his eyes grow with realization as another thought passes through his brain. "You don't like her?"

"I like her." Sae accepts quickly.

"Ha??? Then what are you asking me for?!"

~

If Sae's being honest, he knows he has more than enough. He wonders what this thing is that he's had since he was born, never satiated even as he reaches the top. He thinks about how Bachira describes his 'monster', a childlike wonder, whether this is his own version of something like that.

But even the blackhole-depths of his greed doesn't anticipate wanting you. Like remembering the sea upon the drink of an oyster. A second breath, heart soaked with knowing.

What am I doing, sleeping in his bed? The night grows darker with every step, so the invite was innocuous enough. You sink into the mattress and the blanket of night muffles the fear, the thought that love is never so easy. There will be complications and contracts —

You turn to him and all the braveheart strength seeps out of you. Maybe you can put it down here, just for a moment.

He looks at you love-first, in a thousand colors, something he can't find with anyone else. He brushes the hair from your face so delicately, you find yourself stuck between watching his relaxed expression and fluttering your eyes shut to absorb the feeling. The back of his fingers caress your cheek, a butterfly's wing.

"Are you happy? Satisfied?"

Sae is not abstract. It's a vague but concrete question. You understand him at first glance.

"Not yet," you exhale honestly. "I have more to do. I'm gonna get there."

I'm gonna be the person I want to be. And by that time, I'll also be —

I'll also be the kind of girl you'd consider worth dating.

"Just wanna be worth it," you smile weakly instead.

He looks at you with a tenderness that feels dangerous. You think of a bird's first flight, the swoop of the fall. The crackle of a flame before it eats the firewood.

"People are worth something the moment they're born," he recites with no inflections.

"I know that."

"You're the one who said that." It's not accusatory, it's a reminder: your own truth, a perception of love you've been made the exception of. It's too heavy with degradation for him to feel comfortable focusing on, so instead he asks something he knows.

"If you had everything you want now, would it be enough?"

You sit up, his eyes following you. Your body heat no longer pressed against his feels like a loss, something he's sure to correct.

"No. You know that's not how it works." You should know, better than anyone.

He does know. That greed is a bottomless abyss, ambition an infinite sky. There is no amount of good enough that could ever make it all feel worth it.

His hand circles around your wrist, pulls you in on top of him until you're chest to chest.

Love is not your right. Shattered somethings cradle your heart. Trees can grow around items. You wonder if your heart is the same — muscle grown strong around fractured glass, a whisper of a cutting edge with every beat.

If you're always going to want more, be better, go further —

Could you have a little something in the now?

He's so close to you now that it fills your mind completely. He's not naked but he feels so bare under you, your hands framing his cheeks, soft skin brushing against your fingertips. One of his hands skates up your back, the other slides up your jaw, cups the back of your neck.

You wonder when you started letting him touch you like that.

He treats you so gently, so unlike the overwhelming emotion that crashes into you. Both lightweight and heavy, you feel swept under, you just want to anchor onto something —

His lips touch yours and everything falls into place.

~

"How'd you know about her?"

Oliver could make it easy for him. He won't, because getting a reaction out of Sae is much more fun. Instead, he tries and fails to feign ignorance. "Who?"

"My girlfriend."

Oliver leans his head back against the wall, a playful smile over his face. "So she is your girlfriend. Loyal too."

Sae narrows his eyes.

"Relax. I just talked to her at one of those events you brought her to."

"You talked to her?"

Oliver gets the sense that Sae is trying to make it sound like a normal question, but all it sounds is exactly how annoyed he feels.

"She just said she's waiting for you."

notes: unbelonging is not a word, i used it anyways on purpose to strengthen the idea of something not belonging. nectared and lightstream are also not real words, but i like them. twin wine glasses is kind of a reference to twin flames, though i do think you and sae are actually soulmates. i wonder if people can be both. "the weight you carry is so heavy when you're carrying it yourself" is a double meaning, not just your body weight but everything else you carry too.

call it what it is: / a love created, hand-sculpted to fit. / a silent reprieve, / to be seen, / constellations bursting at the seams. / unfounded heart, / a tepid start,/ an easy, soft-sweet thing. / say what this really is. / place it on the justice scales of the abyss. / what you're meant to be / versus what you choose / you can decide you have a right to this.

[cinder-stella]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐓��𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐲𝐲𝐲 ૮₍•᷄ ࡇ •᷅₎ა

suggestive, domestic, slice of life

<18+ NSFW>toji, sukuna, nanami, gojo, geto<18+ NSFW>

There comes a time in every relationship where the man in your life gets a little...antsy, so to speak. Maybe a little too helpful. A little too, “you look so good when you're angry.”

You got it: he’s horny. And bless his heart, he’s trying to hint at it.

So I present to you *drumroll*:

“What JJK Men Do When They’re Horny and Trying to Hint at It”

(In other words: how to spot the world’s most transparent mating rituals.)

➽───────────────❥

TOJI

He’s laid-back—at least, on the surface. Reclined in a chair, hand behind his head just enough to expose the edge of that deep, carved hipbone that should be illegal. He talks like nothing’s going on. Like you’re just hanging out. But his eyes…Oh, his eyes give him away. They drag over you like a predator. Just unhurried, lazy and oh so possessive.

And then he shifts just a bit. His hand grazes your exposed thigh and his gaze tilts up at you like he’s already imagined how you’d look in his lap. He licks his bottom lip without thinking then huffs a low laugh like he knows he shouldn’t be staring.

But he doesn’t stop. “You look good in those shorts.” The words are casual and loose. But his voice drops a full octave when he says it . Slow and low, skimming right down your spine.

“You mean the one i wear all the time?” You raise an eyebrow and shift to hide to way your skin reacts to his touch.

“Hm, I don’t recall.” Then, he leans back again. Opens his legs. Spreads them wide like a silent dare and rests one arm along the back of the couch behind you. (holy frick)

Ok, now you’re hot. Too hot. You feel your face flushing. Why did he have to be so sexy????

You’re watching his throat now. The way it moves when he swallows. The flex of muscle under skin.“I know what you’re doing, Toji.” You huff finally.

He just smiles like he knows exactly what kind of thoughts you’re having. And he’s in no rush. He’s going to make you stew in them.

RYOMEN

He smells you before he even registers that you walked in. Warm skin, soap, and a hint of something floral. He grins like a cat who’s about to pounce.

There you are, towel wrapped just tight enough to make his eyes literally devour you and he’s already plotting how to ruin your day in the best way possible.

“Oh? Playing dress-up with the towel? Trying to get a rise out of me?” he says, voice dripping with wicked amusement.

You give him a “really?” look and keep walking. Big mistake. Because suddenly he’s behind you, his heat pressing against your back, and holy shit his pants are definitely doing the cha-cha. They are really, going at it. I mean you knew he was a grower but damn.

He leans in close, voice rough. “You have any idea what you do to me just by standing there?”

Your eyes dart down and yep. There it is. The shameless hard-on. In all its glory. In all it’s sexy…girthy…long…delicious glory. (i’m sorry he’s just really hot.)

You bite your lip, trying to keep a straight face, but inside you’re thinking, “Okay, damn. I see you. And frankly? I’m impressed.”

KENTO

One thing about Kento, is that he stares.

Nanami’s just trying to mow the lawn like a responsible adult, minding his own business, when he catches you squatting down to pull weeds.

It’s innocent, right? Wrong.

Your shorts are cut so high that the curve of your ass is basically waving at him like a neon sign. And when you bend forward, your top shifts just enough to reveal the soft swell of your breasts almost right there in his line of sight.

He doesn’t mean to stare. Really. He’s just… caught off guard. He tries to look anywhere but there but the second his eyes catch that perfect view, everything goes south. Literally.

His jaw tightens, lawn mower suddenly sounds like way too loud to focus, and now…he’s definitely sporting an accidental hard-on. It’s almost as if he has to turn the lawn mower off completely to see properly.

Obviously you spot him, hands gripping the lawn mower a little too tightly, looking like he just swallowed a lemon. How could you not notice him. He’s just standing menacingly. And he looks really good doing it. Your eyes trail down his hot, muscular body. You stare at how sexy and golden the hairs on his arms look in the sunlight. Then you take a little peak at his package just cause. Oh, yeah. Smack. Right in your face. (i’m really trying to be civil here)

It takes a lot out of you not to bend over and present your whole being to him then and there so you settle for smirking and you call out, “If you’re gonna stare, at least help me pull weeds.”

He coughs, cheeks flaming behind those glasses. “I was, uh, inspecting the grass.”

You raise a brow. “Mhm. Suuuure.”

And the way his gaze flickers back down well, let’s just say you won’t be letting him off easy anytime soon.

GOJO

Gojo’s got a PhD in Testing Your Limits with a Minor in ‘Bothering You Until You Climb Him Like a Tree.’ He’s touchy at baseline but when he’s horny? Every single graze, every wink, every casually suggestive comment is an audition for what he really wants to do.

He’s behind you in the kitchen, doing absolutely nothing to help with his arms wrapped around your waist as he sways you side to side like you’re slow dancing in the middle of making eggs. His hands shamelessly roamed your body but not in a sweet boyfriend way. This says “I’m imagining bending you over the counter.”

You elbow him lightly. “Can I help you?”

“Just admiring the view,” he hums, leaning in to kiss your neck. “And imagining what kind of sound you’d make if I bit right here.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Yeah,” he says, spinning you around and cupping your face like he’s about to say something profound. “Inside you.”

You choke on your own breath. “Why are you feral.”

He pulls you in for a kiss but it’s soft and misleading. His hand trails down, over your back, until it settles on your ass. He gives it a firm squeeze then a playful smack. You flinch, laughing in surprise.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he whispers, voice low and hot against your ear. “You’re quite tempting you know.”

And then his hand makes its way to your neck. He applies just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. His lips brush yours again and the kiss deepens like he’s daring you to lose your grip first. (i just knowww he knows every single thing that gets you going…my goodness…im sweating)

You pull back, flushed with your eyes wide. “Are you trying to seduce me or start something you can’t finish?”

He grins. “Baby, if I start something, I’m finishing. Twice.”

SUGURU

You wake up from a nap like the embodiment of coziness—hair messy, cheeks warm and blanket still half-draped over your thigh. You’re radiating that soft, sleepy heat. That sleepy, warm, clean scent is just taking over the atmosphere.

When Suguru walks into the bedroom he smells it before he even sees you.

He stops dead in his tracks like he’s been hit by a tranquilizer dart. His eyes go wide, pupils blown and his chest rises a little too fast.

“Holy shit,” he mutters under his breath like he’s in pain.

You blink at him, all squinty and half-conscious, still stretching with a yawn. What the heck was he on about?

He’s on you in two steps, crouching beside the bed like you’re some kind of relic. His nose brushes your shoulder, inhaling deeply like you’re a bath&body works candle.

“That smell…fuck, you’re so warm,” he murmurs, eyes practically rolling back. “I swear, I could sink into you and die happy.”

You blink at him again, a slow, sleepy smirk tugging at your lips. “You’re being so dramatic.”

But he’s not listening. His hand slides along your thigh, fingertips ghosting over the edge of your shorts like he was about to call a locksmith for your panties.

“You don’t get it,” he says, jaw clenching. “You smell like sleep and heat and…fuck—do you even know what that does to me?”

You giggle, which only makes it worse. His eyes flutter shut like he’s overwhelmed.

And when you shift, just slightly, he groans quiet and deep, like he’s physically holding himself back from just. sinking. it. in. (hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah—)

➽───────────────❥

In conclusion:

Men are not subtle. Especially not JJK men.

And if one more of them gets hard just because you walked past them in a towel or smelled like a nap…honestly that’s just hot asf, I can’t lie.

Ryomen’s pitching a tent like it’s a camping trip.

Toji’s staring like your shorts* are gonna evaporate if he concentrates hard enough.

Kento’s trying to pretend he's just “admiring the landscaping.”

Geto’s just one whiff away from dining on the kat like it’s a Michelin-star buffet.

And Gojo…That man touches you like he’s trying to trigger a sprinkler in your pants.

Anyway, hydrate. Stretch. Lock your door if Gojo’s anywhere within a 10-mile radius and you’re in anything less than a track suit.

And remember, just because he grabbed your ass and whispered “just admiring the view” doesn’t mean you owe him anything.

But you can laugh. Loudly. Preferably right before you make him beg. Cause it’s always better when they beg ;).

♡´ˎ˗✎

* means edit was made. this ain’t proofread 0~o

[munchhmm]

Hehee hiii!! Can I get luffy x fem reader fluff to smut😛 (I might be the same person..)

So basically the reader is being really cuddly for the whole day and teasing him so at night he gives her the same treatment but more intimate!!

Please and thank yewwww💕

Messy Love

luv your energy babes (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝) i give you drum roll sexy goofy boy!

Pairings: Luffy x F!reader

Warnings: NSFW, insertion, slight(?) choking.

Word count: About 2.1k ꪆৎ

Poke… Poke… Poke…

“Y/n, I can’t eat if you keep doing that!” Luffy shouts playfully as you continue to push your finger into the soft skin of your boyfriend’s cheek. A giggle escapes as you turn your focus back to the plate sitting on the table meant for you, taking small bites while glancing at Luffy, plotting your next move.

Later on the deck, your captain sits perched on the railing, fishing rod in hand with a big grin across his face. Slowly, you creep behind him, careful not to make any noise—Luffy was very attuned to his surroundings, so this part took extra effort. Before he could even turn around, you had snatched his hat, running off laughing with pride at a successful heist. Luffy chases after you with his own laugh trailing behind, stretching and wrapping his rubber arms around your waist to pull you back to him.

“You’re being silly, is it a special day or something?!” he asks excitedly, taking his hat out of your hands and placing it on your head.

“I just want to give you some attention~” Your words slip past his ear like silk, making the weird feeling in his chest come back—just like it does every time you lean into him this way.

Luffy plops down against a nearby wall, keeping you in his lap as he wraps his arms around you more intimately now, keeping one hand on your lower back and the other holding your head against his chest.

“Like this?”

The feeling of his voice rumbling in his chest makes you feel at home, making you bury your face further into him.

“Exactly like this.”

Even though the relentless sun poured waves of heat down below, neither of you cared about the possibility of uncomfortable sweat sticking you together—hell, Luffy probably invited the idea. A few hours passed like this: small circles being drawn on your back, conversations about favorite foods, and, of course, your captain challenging you to a staring contest (which you lost three times).

Sanji calls everyone for dinner right before the sun is about to set. You and Luffy are the last ones to join, much to everyone’s surprise, knowing how much Luffy loves food. Instead of attempting to tease him like you did at breakfast, you lean over lovingly with a fork full of some type of chicken and rice, offering to feed a bite to Luffy. He gladly accepts, giving you the most adorable face in approval. The crew groans at the sight of the lovey-dovey couple, continuing to eat like they weren’t about to barf.

You didn’t care. Your boyfriend gave so much, and the least you could do was give back—even if it was a bit mushy.

After dinner, you stayed back with a few others to help clean and put away dishes. With the help, it wouldn’t take long, but Luffy was growing impatient. All day he had been thinking about some way he could show his love back in a way you weren’t used to experiencing—finally coming back to the thought of your words from earlier, the way they immediately went straight to his dick and made wearing shorts uncomfortable.

You had both had sex together, just not as often as other couples. Sanji had explained the importance of keeping your partner happy in more ways than one. Luffy took the advice to heart, making sure he memorized every part of you—the way your lips part when he kisses your neck, the way you grip his hair when he flattens his tongue against your clit, even the way you arch your back and how it perfectly fits against him.

Tonight would be no different. He was going to make you feel just as loved as you made him feel today.

Once you were the last one in the kitchen, finishing the last few glasses from dinner, Luffy walks in, coming to give you the biggest hug from behind. Slightly startled, you jump—accidentally pressing your ass to his crotch, earning a genuine grunt from your boyfriend. His hands find your hips and grip them tightly, pressing you even closer to him. You can feel his length through his shorts, the thin material leaving nothing to the imagination.

“I like it when you touch me…”

His voice is deep, sending a shiver through your body. You turn to face him, letting a hand trail down his stomach but stopping right before the hem of his shorts.

“When I touch you how? Hmm?”

The feeling flows back into Luffy’s chest, overwhelming the restriction he’s set for himself. Instead of responding, Luffy crashes his lips into yours, messy and rough with emotion. Only you could make him feel this way. He wanted nothing more than to love every inch of you, show you how much you mean to him.

His kisses trail to your jaw, then your neck, pulling back only for a moment to hoist you onto the kitchen counter, careful not to hit your head on the cabinets behind. Fingers tangle in his hair as you giggle, gasping every so often at the soft nibbles Luffy leaves on your skin.

“We can’t do this here, what if someone sees?”

You wanted to sound serious and composed, but instead it came out shaky and needy, highlighting your arousal.

“Let ‘em, don’t care…”

He says between open-mouthed kisses that are now trailing to your chest. He has half a mind to just rip your shirt but opts to just lift it over your head quickly, exposing your bra-less chest.

“So pretty.”

His eyes are wide with admiration, simply in awe at your body. A slight blush grazes your face—Luffy was a very straightforward person. He says what he means and nothing more, meaning he truly thought the highest of you.

The open red shirt that usually hangs off your boyfriend’s body drops to the floor along with your shirt. Eagerly, Luffy attaches his lips to your right nipple, toying with your left in his hand, licking his fingers before rolling the sensitive bud. A loud moan escapes your lips, quickly covered with a hand to hide the sound from the rest of the crew.

Luffy laughs playfully at your reaction, moving your hand and pinning it above your head against the cabinet.

“You’re too serious, just have fun!”

His voice is cheerful but still laced with something darker, something dirty.

You relax a bit into his words, letting him fondle you just the way you like. He knew you better than any other guy had been able to prove—showing it through his worship of your body. His eyes flicker to yours for a moment as he reaches your lower stomach, clenching the fabric of your shorts between his teeth. You nod, letting him know to continue.

Swiftly, your shorts are slid down, Luffy’s lips dragging across the skin of your legs on the way. The cool air feels foreign against your now exposed core, causing goosebumps to litter your arms. Luffy kneels in front of you, taking in the sight of your pussy leaking onto the counter.

“Look at how wet you are!”

A finger swipes up your slit, gathering the juices easily. You gasp at the sudden contact, looking down at your boyfriend with crimson-tinted cheeks. He pulls his finger away to hold it up in front of you, showing how your slick drips down his knuckles onto his wrist. You lean forward slightly to take his finger into your mouth, sucking every last drop of yourself off of him.

The sight makes his tip push a small stream of precum over his shaft, soaking into his shorts. Frustrated at the tightness, Luffy rips his last piece of clothing off, cock springing to slap him in the abdomen. A breath hitches in your throat—you could see him a million times but still be surprised at how big he is.

Before you can reach for him, he’s kneeling again, quickly working his mouth against your soaking core. His tongue is fast but calculated—flicking, sucking, lapping your juices until the room starts spinning. When you grip his hair and moan his name, the grunts he lets out against your heat make your knees shake.

The small gasps turn desperate as you near your orgasm, telling Luffy to pull away. His mouth and chin are covered in you. He kisses your lips passionately, full of love and wanting—you can taste yourself on him, and he makes sure of it by pressing his tongue against yours. You whimper while bucking your hips against his, missing the contact his mouth once had on your pussy.

Luffy removes his lips from yours, watching how you pout while looking up at him with those beautiful eyes. He can’t deny you anything when you look like that.

“I’m gonna make you feel good.”

He leans low to your ear, voice barely above a whisper when he speaks. You could almost cum just from hearing his words. He had you wrapped around his finger, and soon you’ll be wrapping around his cock.

Without warning, Luffy slams into you, causing a loud squeal to echo through the kitchen. He sets the pace quickly, relentlessly shoving his tip against your cervix. The small amount of pain is covered by the immense pleasure shooting through your body. His hands are everywhere—thighs, ass, tits, even wrapping around your neck slightly just to see your reaction.

Your moans and cries fill Luffy’s head, fueling him better than any meal ever could. His left hand settles between your legs, rubbing small circles on your clit as you beg him to go faster—words never falling on deaf ears.

The fear of someone catching the two of you vanished the moment you started clenching around him, the feeling causing both of you to see stars. Lips find your chest again, leaving hickeys on the underside curve of your breast, licking and sucking your nipples.

The pleasure is overwhelming—your vision became blurry moments ago and isn’t showing any signs of letting up soon. The knot in your lower stomach only grows stronger and tighter.

“So pretty… So tight…”

Luffy struggles slightly to get his words out, his own orgasm around the corner as well. He feels a pair of legs wrap around his waist, looking down at you with sweat dripping from his forehead.

“Don’t pull out, please, Captain~”

The way your mouth drops open from his thrusts, the flushed look of your body, the way your tits bounce in his face while he fucks you—now you’re calling him Captain in that sweet little needy voice?

His thrusts become sloppy and snap quicker, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Gonna… Cum soon. Get ready.”

Luffy grabs your hips, pulling you closer to him. The noises he makes against your skin send you over the edge, gasping and sucking in his cock with the way you pulse around him. His orgasm follows soon after, spilling himself inside your plush walls.

He doesn’t pull out right away. Instead, he kisses your neck sweetly, catching his breath while taking in the scent of your clammy skin. Fingers trail down his back softly, trying to ground themselves against him, your breathing matching his for the time being.

After a few moments like this, Luffy slowly pulls himself out of you, causing a sigh to leave your mouth and a small smirk to spread across his face as he watches his seed flow out of your hole, dripping down the sides of the counter.

“Guess I made you messy, huh?”

His usual grin flashes while grabbing a clean rag off a shelf to clean you with.

“Yeah, but I don’t mind this mess,” you say with a small laugh, watching Luffy take care of you in the softest way he knows how.

Grabbing your clothes to quickly throw them back on, you ask,

“So, why the sudden change in plans for tonight?”

Your boyfriend, after getting dressed himself, embraces you in the biggest, softest hug.

“Because I wanted to make you happy!”

No hint of hidden motives, just pure love and affection. Luffy truly wanted you to feel special—nothing more, nothing less.

The rest of the night is filled with snacks and cuddling in your shared bedroom.

“I love you.”

Three simple words that felt like pure bliss, rarely said by your boyfriend—not because he didn’t want to, he was just better with actions than words.

“I love you too, rubber boy,” you say with an affectionate smile, before eventually falling asleep on Luffy’s chest—the most comforting place in the world.

[dissociativewriter]

hello my sweetheart, congratulations once again for 400 followers <3 you deserve many many more. <3 if possible, can i please get a fluffy scenario with me and caleb when his 3 yo daughter says “dadda” for the first time 🥹💞 you are free to ignore this btw should it get too overwhelming <3 have a lovely day ahead. here, have some snuggles from me!!

ahhhhhhh hi honey!! giving you smooches cause you’re so sweet <3 thank you so much and omg this is such a cute ask! i did change it a little bit, just so that the daughter is younger now. i hope you like this!

request event

Tensions were high.

You and Caleb had been in a cold war for weeks. It felt like all your tactics were falling short as you sat in a stalemate.

The battleground? Your daughter’s nursery.

Months ago, when you were 9 months into pregnancy and terrified for the baby’s arrival, Caleb was reading and re-reading all the parenting tips and baby guides. He was scared, paranoid. He might not say it, but you could tell.

And in his mess of tips and tricks, he read the cause of this competition: babies typically start speaking at around 7 months.

Neither of you had said anything at the time, or when your baby girl was actually born. There wasn’t time to think of that, not when she came out with his bright eyes and your nose. You didn’t have time think about first words, because now there were first tears, and the new life of parenthood was quickly sinking in.

Caleb was a great father, just like you told him he’d be through all his fretting. Everything was already baby-proofed, every decision made now had him taking your little girl into consideration. His life was irreversibly changed, and he knew that having this little family with you was the bliss he didn’t think he’d ever reach.

He’d offered to take nights, insisting you needed your rest. He’d be awake anyway, Caleb explained, so he might as well take care of the baby while he’s up. And true to his word, with Caleb at your side, you were able to sleep through most nights.

Caleb always seemed grateful to hold her, grateful that he could be there through all of this. His hands shook ever so slightly every time he reached for her, the disbelief apparent in his eyes.

Everything was as peaceful as it could be with a newborn.

But then six months rolled around, and it seemed the both of you began plotting. Your daughter’s babbling filled the house, incoherent now but you both knew that soon those babbles would be words.

You were starting to wonder if Caleb had offered to take nights with an ulterior motive. You’d caught him, one late night, repeating “dada” to her. Over and over again, like a mantra. “You’ve got to say dada first, alright, little apple?” He’d whispered. “I’ve got to beat your mother on this.”

The next day, you’d made a show of using ‘mama’ around your daughter as much as you could. If Caleb wanted a competition, then so be it.

It went on for what felt like an eternity for the both of you, starting just before she turned six months old and ending when she was seven and half months old. You were anxious with anticipation, waiting to see what would be her first word.

It was around noon and the sun was high, streaming in through wide windows of the Skyhaven apartment. Caleb was in the kitchen with your daughter, prepping her food while your lunch was still cooking on the stove. He had her far away from anything that could possibly hurt her, his watchful eyes constantly snapping back to where she was, prepared to use his Evol to steady her or pull her away.

Caleb was talking to her as he stirred and mixed. He’d made a habit of it whenever they were together, constantly going back and forth with her as if she was holding an actual conversation instead of giggling nonsense.

“Okay, little apple, I hate to tell you this but your mama was very mean to me earlier.” He said seriously. He nodded with her as she babbled something. “I know, it’s hard to hear, but it’s true!” Caleb then proceeded to explain your most recent quarrel to your daughter, which was more brought on by pettiness and stress than an actual problem. He’d nodded along whenever she babbled, agreeing and further explaining as if he understood everything.

“Now tell me, little apple, who do you think is right?” He asked as he walked closer with her baby food.

She beamed as he approached, a wide smile growing on her face as she giggled, “Dada!”

Caleb froze. Mid-step, it felt like everything stopped. You padded into the kitchen from the living room, disbelief written all over your face as well.

“Did she just…?” Caleb’s voice cracked. He looked up at you, tears brimming at his eyes. “She just said dada!” he exclaimed. He rushed forward, laving the food on the counter as he scooped her up in his arms, pulling you in as well as he peppered kisses over both your foreheads.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “My baby girl’s talking. I can’t—” Tears fell onto his cheeks as the words caught in his throat. “I love you, so much. Both of you.” Caleb kissed both of you again, barely able to hide his grin.

And staring at his triumphant, prideful smile, you decided not to tell him about all the days you spent whispering ‘dada’ to her, too.

thank you @syncaleb for this ask!

comments and reblogs appreciated and asks open! <3

masterlist

taglist: @coffeedragonhobbyist @sleepykittyenergy @orbitraiden @dolledbunnytail

[layla4567]

A pleasent mistake

Bob!reynolds x fem!reader

Summary: A mission goes terribly wrong, after accidentally inhaling a strange substance you and Bob will look at each other differently.

Warnings: smut/filthy, sex pollen, aphrodisiac, p in v, porn with (barely?) plot, Jack off, Y/n use, curse words, possible grammatical mistakes, fingering, slightly mention of drugs/past adiction, making out, praising (M and F recieving), hair pulling (M recieving)

Word count: 5k

You shouldn't have suggested that, if you hadn't opened your mouth none of this would have happened.

That afternoon when you and the group were preparing for a mission, you hesitantly and timidly suggested that Bob accompany you.

Bob. The man who couldn't fight or defend himself unless he was in his Sentry form. Bob, the one who apologized for hitting someone, even if they were an enemy. Yes, that Bob.

When those words came out of your mouth everyone froze in place and turned to look at you slowly as if you had said something stupid, even the one mentioned.

"I hope you're joking," John said sarcastically.

You were about to open your mouth when Ava's voice interrupted you.

"Come on Y/n, we don't have time for this..."

Not believing your words, the group headed for the elevator while you stood there, not knowing whether to explain yourself or not. Bob, who was sitting in an armchair reading, got up to go to your side to help you.

"Uh guys, Y/n didn't finish talking..."

You looked at him gratefully as the team turned to look at you impatiently. You gulped nervously.

"I... meant it. I think Bob can be useful to us on this mission"

"How?" Walker asked incredulously.

You pressed your lips together to avoid answering with some gag irony, "I don't know yet, but he'll be with me all the time, I'll keep an eye on him."

Then you quickly turned to see Bob and took his hand. He looked at it shyly, then fixed his eyes on you, expectant. "But what do you think? The decision is yours. I just thought it would be good for you to get out of the tower for a bit. I know how much you love helping others."

Bob could see the slightly disapproving and suspicious glances from behind your shoulder. He looked down at his feet, thoughtful. He wanted so badly to go with you and help, but he was afraid of messing things up. How could he be useful? He didn't know how to fight, much less defend someone just being Bob. But your small handshake gave him the courage he needed.

"Uhm I think.. I can go with you guys, I mean, I would like to.."

Bob gave you a small smile, and you returned it while the others pouted in disagreement. The only one who accepted this suggestion was Yelena, who raised her hands in the air to get everyone's attention. "Fine, but you must swear that you will stay by Y/n's side and follow her orders at all times, okay?"

Bob nodded several times "Got it"

And honestly? He had no problem following that advice because he loved being stick to you.

And there they were now, gathered in a building, under a ventilation duct. Ava had already taken care of disabling all the alarms and security cameras. You looked up at the duct, thinking of a plan.

"John help me up, Bob you will come behind me"

Walker reluctantly complied, clasping his hands together for your footing. As he did, John gave you a shove upward, and at just the right moment, you grabbed the edge of the duct and began to climb. The same thing happened with Bob.

"Okay guys, we'll wait for you near the lab and tell you what to do" Yelena said through the earpiece.

Once inside the narrow tube, the two of you had to twist and turn to fit through, You were leading the way, and Bob followed closely behind, giving him a nice view of your rear end. Of course, he was trying to concentrate and look at the floor, not your asset. It wasn't as much of a problem for you; you were used to it, but Bob, who had never been on a mission with you before, had a hard time. His massive muscles barely fit inside the tube, and he was constantly straining to avoid hitting the walls. But he kept complaining.

"Ow!"

Without stopping or looking back, you scolded him, "Bob! Don't make so much noise or we'll get discovered- Ah!"

A slap on your butt made you gasp, Bob had accidentally bumped his head into it from looking down.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!!"

Blushing and a little nervous you replied "No worries, but be more careful next time"

"Y-yeah, yeah!"

Finally, to the relief of both of them, after that awkward moment, they reached the end of the duct. But little did they both know that this wouldn't be the only awkward moment. A trapdoor in the floor indicated where they should go down. With a screwdriver you took from your pocket, you began carefully removing the cover. Without any problems, you descended into a Black Widow pose, precise and silent as a feather. Suddenly, you heard a woman's voice in your earpiece.

"Such a poser..."

"How do you know I posed on the way down?"

"It's so obvious of you..."

You smiled, rolling your eyes, and waited for Bob to come down. Unfortunately, he wasn't as flexible as you, and when he tried to descend the duct, his leg got caught and he fell on his face, almost tripping over you.

"Bob!" you whispered in a not so low voice, alarmed

He stood up awkwardly, grabbing your arms for balance. You asked him if he was okay, and he, a bit uncertain, said yes.

"What the hell is that noise?" Yelena asked in your ear.

"It was nothing, a small stumble. Where to now, Yelena?"

The blonde was constantly talking to both of you through the earpiece to guide them through the exact right corridors to the lab. The hallways weren't completely dark; a small, dimly lit bulb hung from their heads, but it wasn't enough to see clearly. When they reached the right door, they saw a coded pattern on the frame. Luckily, the Russian knew the password, and after entering the correct numbers, the door opened with a chilling creak.

If you complained about the dark room, it was worse. There wasn't a single light on. In the pitch darkness, the only thing that provided a glimmer of light were the city lights visible through a large window in the pitch black. You took a flashlight out of your fanny pack and started exploring the place, Bob always clinging to your side like a lost puppy.

"So, what exactly should we look for, again?"

Yelena's metallic voice answered you immediately: "DNA samples, more precisely a vial with a green liquid inside."

Her words weren't very helpful. "Well, that's a bit of a vague answer, don't you think? How big is the vial?"

You could hear her grumbling through the earpiece and you suppressed a chuckle. "Thin, tall, and with a tag that says fragile. Are you happy now?"

"Very much, thank you" you said in a honeyed voice, teasing her

Having understood your mission, the two of you searched all the tables filled with strange vials and syringes containing samples. Bob, who hadn't brought a flashlight, tried not to trip while clumsily groping in the air with his hands like a blind man. Several times he bumped his knee on a table or chair, apologizing every so often. You, for your part, were searching a nearby table, closely looking for that blessed vial. With a triumphant smile, you grabbed the one Yelena had told you about.

"Hey Bob I-!"

Suddenly, a sound of breaking glass startled you. Bob had once again crashed into the table with such force that he had moved it, knocking over several bottles of strange liquids. He was mortally embarrassed and apologized as many times as he could. Sighing in annoyance, you trotted to his side, seeing the mess on the floor.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" he said distressedly

Even in the darkness, you could see his face contorted in a sad, worried expression that broke your heart. You placed both of your hands on his biceps in a motherly manner. "Hey, calm down. It's not your fault. You did really well for your first time." You smiled at him, even though you weren't sure if he could see you.

You didn't want him to feel bad or useless, because it was important to him to help and feel valuable. He seemed to be calmed by the way his body relaxed in your hands.

"Come on, I already found what we were looking for, let's go"

But before the two of you could take a step, a strong smell enveloped you, making you wrinkle your noses. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, but it was very strong and had a slight hint of sulfur. You both looked in surprise at where the jars had broken and noticed the expanding orange puddle. You bent down, and being careful not to cut yourself on the glass, you dipped a finger in the liquid and brought it to your nose. Aside from the sulfur smell, there was a sweetish smell in the background, but you couldn't tell what it was.

"What the fuck is this?" You whispered

"Is it poisonous?" Bob asked worriedly.

"Mmh I don't think so, But I don't like the idea of ​​having inhaled this strange substance either"

You brought your hand to the earpiece and asked "Lena?"

"Yeah? Do you already have the vial?"

"Yes but... Do you have any idea what is manufactured in this laboratory? Or what things they experiment with?"

"I'm not sure, I think with exotic plants or something, but what does it matter, Why?"

"Nevermind, we're coming with you."

You grabbed Bob's hand to walk back the way you had come when you noticed he was suspiciously still, and not only that, his hand was sweating profusely. You wiped your hand, startled, and walked over to him, pointing the flashlight at him.

"Bob what the hel-?!"

In the flashlight, his pale face was slightly pink and sweaty, as if the heater had been turned on. His mouth was half-open, breathing shallowly, and his dilated pupils looked like a black hole. Bob couldn't keep his gaze still, moving from your eye to the other, looking at you as if he were seeing you for the first time. He looked disoriented.

"Oh my God, are you okay?"

You placed a hand on his cheek to check if he had a fever, but when he felt your touch, he flinched with a low moan and quickly pulled away like a frightened animal. You had already noticed that his face was hot anyway. Bob noticed his gesture and said embarrassedly

"Sorry! I- I don't know what's wrong with me, I-I suddenly feel very hot"

How strange, the place seemed quite cool, which contrasted greatly with Bob's skin. You turned around with your hands on your hips, scanning the lab for a thermostat. Your eyes, and his, had already adjusted to the darkness. What you didn't know was that Bob was feeling hot in another sense of the word, and it was evident by the way his eyes blatantly rested on your butt, dressed in that tight suit you decided to wear that day. He knew it was wrong to be nosy, but for some reason, he couldn't tear his gaze away as he nervously played with his fingers and the sleeve of his jacket.

You turned around and he quickly fixed his gaze on your face, you didn't seem to notice anything "Well, it seems there's no thermostat around here, let's go back to the team, they'll know what to do..."

Bob was suspiciously following you, and when the two of you were about to walk out the door, you suddenly stopped dead in your tracks. Your clothes now felt strangely tight and suffocating. You leaned a hand on the wall to steady yourself while you moved your collar aside with a finger. Bob, at your side, asked you what was wrong, and you told him that you were starting to feel hot too. But it wasn't just that suffocating sensation; your mouth also felt a little dry, and the presence of the brown-haired man at your side made your breathing agitated.

"This room has something..." you said breathlessly

You took off your suit jacket to cool off in the heat, leaving on a sleeveless T-shirt while Bob watched you, lightly biting his lip and breathing with his mouth open. You could see it now, in the way he looked at you, with those big, dilated eyes, wanting something from you. You touched your forehead and noticed that it was not only hot but you were also sweating like a pig.

Bob, for his part, imitated you and opened his jacket, though without taking it off yet. He sat on the floor with his back against a closet. You couldn't help but stare at his expression: his face drenched in sweat, his eyes closed, his brow barely raised in a sad expression, and his lips parted as he breathed through his mouth. You looked down at his chest; although he was wearing clothes, his muscles were visible through the fabric, and his chest was rising and falling rhythmically in a slightly accelerated rhythm.

You didn't know why, but seeing him in that state made you salivate slightly, and you began to feel a throbbing in your core. Frightened by the sensation, you squeezed your legs together, your mouth half open. You brought your hand to the receiver just as Yelena was speaking to you.

"Y/n? Y/n! Can you hear me? Where are you?"

You gulped as you turned your gaze to Bob, who was already looking at you, his chin slightly raised and his eyes slightly narrowed. Again, you felt that tingling in your core that made you curl your legs as you brought a hand to your lower abdomen. Why did you suddenly feel so horny? You looked away and tried to maintain your calm breathing.

"Uhh We're still here in the l-lab, something happened... it's hard to explain. I'll c-call you later"

"No wait! what hap-!?"

You hung up before she could finish her sentence, turned off the receiver, threw it away, and gestured for Bob to do the same. He obeyed without question. With great effort, you made your way over to him and sat down next to him, also leaning against the closet. You noticed his breathing become labored as you stood close to him.

"Y/n... what's happening to us?" he said in a whisper

Your name coming from his lips gave you a shiver down your spine, you looked at him out of the corner of your eye, he was watching you.

"I don't know... but this is not a simple fever..."

Your voice sounded broken and desperate. Without realizing it, the hand on your abdomen moved down to your mons pubis, cupping and rubbing the clothed area. You squeezed your eyes shut and frowned. Your fingers wanted to pierce your pants somehow, but they couldn't. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel Bob's penetrating gaze, and you felt self-conscious.

"I'm sorry shit, I don't know what's wrong with me" you said opening your eyes

He swallowed hard. "Don't apologize. I don't feel better either."

He also didn't want to admit that he had an uncontrollable urge to touch himself, especially with you by his side. You looked around, trying to reason with a cool head, but all your mind could think about was cumming right there... or being made to cum. Suddenly, your eyes returned to the rotating bottle of orange liquid. Yelena's words came back to you when you had asked her what they were experimenting with in that lab "exotic plants or something". You realized these annoying symptoms started after inhaling that stupid liquid. And then you understood. You closed your eyes and swore under your breath. You two were fucked up, literally, I mean in the best sense of the word. Everything matched: the fever, dilated pupils, sexual urges. That bottle contained an aphrodisiac.

You pressed your lips together so tightly they formed a thin horizontal line as you glanced at Bob out of the corner of your eye. You didn't know how he would take this new information.

"Uh.. I think I know what's happening to us..." you said in a whisper.

He looked at you impatiently with a hint of hope in his eyes.

"But you're not going to like the answer" you said with a grimace of pain.

"Just say it" His tone of voice was pleading, he seemed like he was going to cry

you gulped "That liquid you dropped...it's an aphrodisiac... you know, a substance that increases.. sexual desire"

The air caught in his throat as he stared at you, mouth agape, in disbelief. You tried not to look at him as you dug your nails into your palm to ward off the urge to touch yourself.

"B-but, wha-what do we do now? How do we cure this?"

"Well we could start by masturbating... that is, ourselves, not each other!"

You felt stupid for clarifying that because you knew your dirty mind had betrayed you. "Relax, I won't look at you. I'll go sit behind that counter."

Before he could say anything, you moved across the floor, crawling like a baby with slow, painful movements. With each movement, you felt your panties stick to your wet, sticky area. Sitting down and hiding behind that table, you wasted no time pulling down the strap of your pants along with your panties. You slid your middle finger down the slit of your wet vagina, biting your lower lip and breathing heavily through your nose. You massaged your clitoris with your finger, applying pressure while moans echoed in your throat, unwilling to let them out. Your middle finger, now curled like a hook, approached your uterus, sinking it in and out slowly. You couldn't help but throw your head back and gasp with your mouth open.

You didn't want to be so loud, but a sound alerted you. Where Bob was, you could hear a kind of sliding against his skin, dirty and desperate. His soft moans accompanied by that pounding were filling you with desire. You thrust another finger inside you more insistently and quickly, rocking your hips in the air. As you lifted your pelvis, you let out pitiful moans that grew in crescendo. You felt your walls throb around your fingers, wrapping them like a blanket. At the same time, you could hear Bob's moans intensifying as his hand moved up and down quickly, and you even thought you heard your name whispered. Your whole body trembled as you felt yourself reaching your climax. You prepared to receive it, your free hand pressed to the floor and your body slightly turned as if you wanted to stand up, your hips wanting to fuck the air with uncontrolled thrusts but keeping pace with your gasps.

You felt a thick, warm liquid on your middle and index fingers, shaking you violently from head to toe. You collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily, letting out moans mixed with groans every now and then. It seemed like Bob came right after you, given the way you heard liquid shooting out like a fountain along with his loud moan. You took a few minutes to catch your breath. The pleasure your orgasm left you with lasted a while, and you seemed a little relieved, but when the sensation disappeared, you realized, horrified, that your skin was heating up again.

"Uhm Bob..? Hey do you feel.. better?"

A few seconds that seemed like hours passed until he answered in a pitiful voice

"Not really, and you?"

"Yeah, me neither"

Panting, you pulled up your underwear and pants and slowly crawled back to his side. Luckily, he had already pulled up his boxers, but you could see his large bulge wanting to come out. Fuck, you wanted to have it in your hands so much. He looked at you desperate and tired; it seemed like that action had drained him dry. The moonlight filtered through the window and bathed the side of his face. He looked so attractive. Had he always seen himself this sexy, or was it the effect of the aphrodisiac? Bob gave you a pleading look, as if only you could save him and give him the relief he needed. You licked your lips before speaking.

"Listen, If we already touched ourselves and it didn't work then there's only one thing left... we have to... well, you know"

You were so embarrassed you couldn't finish your sentence, but you knew he understood from his horrified and worried expression. "Yeah, I know. It's awkward, but what other choice do we have?"

He let out all the air he was holding in his lungs through his mouth, trembling as he did so. He closed his eyes, trying to think, would he have to fuck you? Hell, he hadn't felt this way since his drug days; even that lab reminded him of when he used to sneak in to look for meth. Without thinking, he brought his hand to his crotch and squeezed his erection while gritting his teeth. No, it wasn't appropriate to do so, but was there really no other option?

He turned to look at you "Ugh are there r-really no other options?"

You were breathing with your mouth half open, looking at his bulge with desire, but you tried to concentrate on his face, so you looked up and down. "Bob, really, if you don't fuck me, I feel like I'm going to die..."

Your desperate sincerity left him speechless as he looked at your face wrinkled in a slight grimace of pain. He was just as desperate as you, but he didn't want to ruin this friendship he had with you, although to be fair, it wouldn't be the first time he'd imagined a scene like this. Perhaps this aphrodisiac was just an excuse to finally admit that you drove him crazy. Bob nodded weakly, and you quickly grabbed the elastic of his pants and boxers and yanked them down, drawing a broken moan and gasp from him. You straddled him, pulling down your clothes as well, and aligned yourself perfectly with his member. Bob, feeling your wet entrance squeezing around his erection, dug his nails into your thighs to keep you there.

"Are you ready?"

Bob simply nodded, swallowing loudly, and you lowered yourself onto his cock suddenly, already feeling your walls clench. The sharp pain made you whimper as you squeezed your eyes shut. Shit, you hadn't expected him to be so big and well-endowed.

"Careful, you good?"

You nodded without opening your eyes and gasped, trying to get used to the sensation. When you opened them, you saw Bob looking at you with concern, but behind that, you noticed how his eyes shone with lust. He was simply waiting for your orders or some gesture from you to guide him so he could follow you. You finished removing his open jacket and began desperately kissing his neck. It was more like sucking and nibbling while you moaned and whispered apologies against his skin.

"F-fuck sorry, mmh, I just ah~ couldn't hold on any longer ngh"

Bob said nothing, but he dug his fingers into your hips as he felt your walls throb around his member. Your French kisses ran along the line of his jaw, making him clench it to hold back his moans.

"Gosh, you're divine.."

Your compliments were making him feel like he was on cloud nine, and he dared to massage the flesh of your waist while slightly rolling his eyes. Now your mouth crashed against his lips in a fiery, needy, and open kiss. Your tongue entered his mouth, and he allowed it, feeling the warmth of your saliva. Almost hitting your teeth, you explored every corner of his mouth and lips while he moaned into yours. When you tangled your fingers in his hair and gave it a tug, causing him to throw his head back, Bob moaned your name loudly.

"Shit Bob.. everything is perfect about you" you whispered against his lips between kisses

Bob felt himself melt at your words. One hand was on your lower back, pulling you closer to him, and the other was sliding down to your lower abdomen. With one finger, he probed your bare clit, and you gasped into his mouth. He dared to trace circles, making you stop and press your forehead to his, breathing heavily.

"Omg! F-Don't s-stop!"

His finger played with your button-like slit, ecstatic at how you were coming undone under his touch, lips flushed and parted, eyes half-closed and glassy, ​​you looked perfect. His magical fingers lifted your pelvis, which was already aligned with his erection. The sound that filled the room was so filthy that you were glad the team hadn't come looking for you two yet.

"Damn Y/n, you are so fuck! wet, but I got you"

And he was right, your wetness was so great it acted as a lubricant, and you slid up and down with ease, making a loud chop! chop! Your ass hit his balls with every hard thrust you delivered, causing his face to twitch.

"That's ri-right ah, k-keep going, don't stop!, you.. you're making me feel ngh so good, sweets."

Sweets? Now Bob dared to give you a pet name? There you go. You lost it. You leaned your forehead on his shoulder, sighing between delicious and pleasurable moans. It wasn't just how you were riding him and how he took you so well, as if his member had been made for you, but the fact that he dared to shower you with praise was killing you. Their hot breaths mingled with each other just inches from their faces, sticky sweat clung disgustingly to their hair but all they could focus on was how close they were to reaching another orgasm. Bob was with his hips hitting your G-spot precisely making you scream his name

"Ah! Yes! There!!"

You squeezed your eyes shut as your walls contracted even more, feeling them throb painfully. You were about to come.

"Fuck! You're tight!"

Bob kept talking through his orgasm which turned you on even more.

"Fuckfuckfuck I'm so close! And you feel so fucking g-good. God you're taking me so well mm"

With those last words, you came, followed by him. A sticky, thick, and hot liquid trickled down the inside of your thighs, staining both of your clothes. Bob threw his head back to rest it on the closet door, and you rested your cheek on his shoulder, your head turned toward him. The two of you stayed like that for several long minutes, catching your breath. You no longer felt that intense fever, nor did your skin feel so sensitive to the senses. It seemed that the narcotic effect had finally worn off. You smiled, relieved, closing your eyes. Bob hugged your back with both arms, holding you like a small child about to fall asleep.

"Well... I think the aphrodisiac is already out of our systems."

He sighed tiredly "Yes, I think so too"

You noticed a note of joy in his voice, and you didn't know if he was glad he was no longer under the influence of that substance or because you had just made him cum. Either way, and although you wanted to stay in his arms for a longer time, you decided you should separate because if the team arrived and saw you like this, they would be traumatized for life. You pulled away from his chest, and he kept his eyes on you the whole time, making sure you didn't hurt yourself. When you stood up, you forgot you could still feel your sensitive area, and with a slight shudder, you moaned, startled.

"Slowly, let me help you"

He chivalrously helped you up and even pulled up your clothes before straightening his own pants. They stared at each other for a moment; they were a mess. Their clothes were stained and damp, and their hair was tangled and sticking to their faces from sweat. They smiled, embarrassed and uncomfortable. "We won't tell anyone about this, okay? And then, well, I don't know... maybe someday we can talk about this..." you told him, determined because you had realized your feelings for him. You were surprised when you noticed that he nodded confidently; perhaps the feeling was mutual after all.

You headed for the door, walking uncomfortably because of your soaked underwear, which already felt cold. As you were about to open it, a restless group of people entered through the entrance, accidentally pushing you and causing you to stumble. You would have fallen if Bob hadn't caught you from behind and under your arms before you fell backward to the ground.

"WHAT HAPPENED ARE YOU OK?!" Yelena yelled half worried an half angry

You half-reassured her by telling her that they were both fine now, without explaining what had happened, of course. You gave her the vial they needed, and she seemed satisfied. The others walked around the place inspecting it

"Why the hell did you turn off your earpieces? It took us two hours to find you in this building that looks like a fucking maze" Yelena scolded them.

"sorry about that, it's just that..-"

You were about to make up any excuse when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky bending down to smell the aphrodisiac orange liquid. Alarmed, you and Bob stopped him by shouting. The man with the metal arm stood up, startled and confused.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!" you two exclaimed in unison

"Why?! What's wrong with it??"

"Yeah, What do you two know that we don't?" Walker asked

You and Bob cleared your throats and coughed nervously, babbling incoherently, which was impossible to understand because you were talking at the same time. Suddenly, you abruptly fell silent and looked at the team, which didn't understand anything.

"Forget it! We already have what we were looking for, let's go!" You quickly said nervously

You dragged Bob by the hand, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, while Yelena shrugged, looking at the others to follow you. Everyone did the same, except for John, who stared at the table for a few seconds, wanting to find out why you were acting suspicious. In his search, he found a folder that read:

The concubus is a plant that grows in clusters of three with pointed leaves. Its orange nectar is a strong aphrodisiac that can be obtained by grinding its leaves. The ancients used it as a natural Viagra.

Then John looked down at the floor where the broken jar lay and smiled, understanding everything.

"damn horny dogs..."

And with a broad smile he left the laboratory following the others. He would have enough to bribe those two when they bothered him.

[project-sekai-facts]

Spoilers

Leoni’s wl chapters are all on sekai best right now and I wanted to inform what I understand about what they did with saki’s illness. From what I understand saki was weak and ill since she was young and during elementary leoni formed a band and at some point her illness got really bad and she had to stay in the hospital for a while. Saki was eventually released and became very worried about her health and was scared about it happening again so she wanted to get stronger. To do that Saki started working out more and during middle school joined the soft tennis club. She was able slowly over time build up strength and with the help of others looking out for her Saki got stronger and better. It is stated also that at times during middle school she did feel like she was going to faint.

I’m not sure how bad this handling is as I’m not a chronically ill person. I recognize it definitely isn’t the best route, which would’ve been leoni visiting her more often, or the worst route, which would’ve been be if they just erased Saki’s illness altogether.

i forgot saki chapter is out now so i can answer this. how they handled saki is incredibly questionable. because technically technically saki has nonspecific anime disease which means her illness works however the writers need it to. they don't say anything so they don't have to commit to anything or have any restrictions with how they write saki. so maybe tennis can cure her illness. it is true that exercise and healthy lifestyle improves immune system. however that begs the question, why did no one ever just tell saki's parents to make sure she got regular exercise and a healthy diet, in either universe.

as i said recently, based on what little we know about saki's illness, and inferring from the fact she had to be moved to a different part of the country to live in a specialist hospital, she had an immunodeficiency that was either genetic, or caused by other medical factors (eg: blood/organ transplant or chemotherapy). in these instances, you can't just magically get better by playing tennis. like obviously regular exercise would improve her physical health to a degree, but honestly with how ill she was that wasn't really possible, and it would be much less effective if saki's nonspecific anime disease is a genetic thing or caused by a different illness like cancer or an organ problem, which like pick one of the three because they make most sense for what her illness translates too.

we knew colopale kinda just used saki's illness as a plot device half the time considering the nonspecified part but yikes. it doesn't even make sense, like i said if she could just play tennis to get cured why did no doctor's tell her that in the main AU, where she ended up relapsing and returning to hospital. i feel like they just didn't know what to do with saki in a pre-main story canon divergence. it's not hard to think of something just have shiho and honami actually go to visit her and get rid of the miyajo bullies so they don't cut saki and ichika off. you don't have to get rid of her illness to make it work, it's set during second year anyway. i get she still gets fatigued easier than the average person but that's not really a good excuse. it's still incredibly poor treatment of a chronically ill character.

[itsnothingofinterest]

While I’m on the subject & to talk a bit more lighthearted about it: my goodness, if we really are a part of Team Knight's plan, how convoluted is that plan that getting one of their guys possessed by an otherworldly entity that opposes the plan is somehow “worth it” and a net positive to their goal?

Like yeah we can see some benefits even before any big reveals; they inserted one of their own among the 3 prophesied heroes, hypothetically control our ability to seal fountains and beat Titans, and Kris can assert control to muck up the Delta Warrior's plans...so long as they aren't seen ripping their soul out.

But the cost of this scheme (even without considering the risks of anything resembling Snowgrave) is that Kris spends like 90% of their day controlled by an otherworldly entity, which they hate on principle. And let's look at just how hard they need to try and keep this plot secret; this entity is working against them, knows Kris is working against Susie & Ralsei, and thus Kris has to jump through so many hoops to keep us from learning as much as possible as well as keeping us from conveying what we do know. Their plan involves letting one of their enemies know they've been infiltrated and are banking everything on that enemy's inability to communicate it to other enemies. Deception 100.

Heck, both times you can prove to be more competent than expected in chapters 3 & 4 led to what could have been huge risks where Kris had to throw in front of Susie.

To say nothing of stuff like how much they're banking on the soul playing along with little to no direction, or that no one gets too suspicious of “Kris” acting out-of-character, or how often this save-scummer fights the Knight and risks involved there, and let it be said that I don’t think Kris tearing out their soul so often is good for their health while we’re at it. It just seems wildly risky from almost every angle.

They must be really banking on the unbreakable nature of the prophecy to keep everything in line is my only guess.

[inexplicifics]

I’m also a writer, of both fanfics and works I hope to publish someday, and I was wondering if I could ask your advice. I have a number of larger projects that I want to undertake, but thinking about how long it’s going to take to finish them makes me anxious and then I won’t even start. You’re an incredible writer and you have so many finished works; how do you do it? What would you recommend for someone who feels incredibly daunted by the lengthy and disheartening process that is writing a novel or series?

Also thank you for your Accidental Warlord series; it brings me inexpressible joy every time I read it

Oooh okay this is a complicated one. Let's see.

First off, and this is hard: don't compare your output to other authors. I have what my friends affectionately refer to as Wordy Bitch Disease. I write a lot, I write fast, and I write clean enough copy that Rose isn't doing copyedits, she's doing plot and characterization fixes. I start a new WIP...pretty near daily some weeks, and they do not all get done. My WIPs list is frankly fucking terrifying. But it's important to note that I have been writing pretty consistently for twenty years at least, and I was not as fast, coherent, or skilled when I started. For that matter, when I'm tired or stressed or just feeling blah, sometimes the words don't come, and it's important not to beat yourself up about it when that happens.

Second bit of advice: start smaller. I really, really like flash fic challenges and themed prompt lists and tumblr ask memes, because they make me limit my story to what can be told in a few thousand words. That lets me improve my craft without getting bogged down in enormous plotlines. (Yes, sometimes the story still grows a plot. But it's less frequent.)

Third bit of advice: take little bites, and accept that it's going to take a long time and possibly several drafts. When I started MBTT, I genuinely thought it would be 50K. (I am bad at estimating finished lengths of stories.) But I still took it one chapter at a time, and tried to have each chapter be a coherent whole, a chunk of story that needed to be told. When I'm working on the AWAU, if I think about the whole overarching storyline too much, I get overwhelmed and have to go stick my head under a proverbial rock for a while. But one story is doable, most of the time. I've had to restart drafts for some stories two, three, four times to get the voice and style and plot to cooperate. Be willing to say, That's not working, and try something else, even if you're really fond of what you've written so far.

Fourth bit of advice: learn what style of planning works for you. Some people like to outline in great detail. Some people like a sketchy outline. Some people, like me, can't outline - it kills the story for me. The WIP I started this morning has a notes section for important characterization details and the single plot point "Bandits?" Anything more than that, and I won't write it, because in some sense I've already written it so why bother doing it again?

Fifth and final bit of advice, because this is getting long: if you can find a cheer-reader, cherish them. Having someone in the doc leaving comments or emoticons helps immensely with knowing how my readers will react and with keeping my own enthusiasm for a story stoked high, which vastly increases the likelihood of it getting finished.

Good luck! Be brave! Thank you for the compliments!

I hope to read your stories someday!

[hazard-haze]

Eddie and Volt headcanons (no player)

Soooooo

My brain has decided this shit is my new hyperifxation

And that these are my new comfort characters

But I heard that everyone was getting a hate ending with them and guess who got friendship with them first tryyyyyy! So uh, skill issue/j heres some headcanons for ya'll :)

-He doesn't do it often because he knows Eddie hates it, but Volt can 110% pick up Eddie and will abuse this power if he needs to

-Eddie is Volt's anger translator. It usually goes something like this:

Volt: "We are sorry you weren't satisfied with our service, but this is the best we can do and I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

Eddie *passing by behind him*: "Pay your fucking tab and get out!"

-Volt cannot keep his hands still, he tries to play it off suave-ly (?) by just tapping his fingers and running his hand through his hair repeatedly but when he gets really excited or angry about something he will wave his hands with big, fast, eccentric gestures.

-Volt wears eyeliner, sometimes Eddie helps him put it on.

-Eddie is very talented at most things he does, fixing, building, mixing drinks (he can even do some tricks with shakers), and there's a plethora of odd things he's picked up throughout the years. However this makes him get pretty frustrated when things don't work out the first couple times he attempts something. While not the main reason, this is part of why he was so frustrated and irritable during most of his main plot. Volt sometimes has to remind him that it's okay to not have everything figured out immediately, or pull him from his work if he's starting to stress out or exhaust himself too much.

-On the topic of pulling Eddie from his work, that is a feat. Volt full well knows he can't just ask Eddie to take a break, usually he has to either ask him to do something easier as a favor, or blame the break on himself.

"Oh Eddie, I know your in the middle of something but could you wipe the bar down? I have no time before we open."

"Eddieeeee, I have no one to watch the new season of Cougar vs Cougar with! Would you take a break to and come watch it with me? Please! Just for a little bit! Just one episode!" (They got through like 2 1/2 before Eddie passed tf out)

-Oh yeah, Volt loves reality TV and Eddie pretends to not be at least a little invested.

-Eddie can draw. Volt cannot. Volt is very jealous of Eddie in this regard.

-Infodumpingggggggg. They infodump to one another without even realizing it, it is so much of how they communicate. They will ramble and bounce ideas off each other, mostly about the club but about other stuff too.

-On the flip side. They can also communicate by saying pretty much nothing, just through brief glances. I think it would partly be because they are literally split from the same thing but it's more in that way when you widen your eyes slightly at your bestie and that equates to like a full paragraph of text.

-Eddie is short af, Volt is tall af.

-Volt makes fun of Eddie for being short

-Like seriously ya know that audio that's like "I know we don't always see eye to eye" "that because your too short to do so"

-Eddie will get revenge. He can kick/punch really hard but he can also come up with some other very clever ways of revenge. Do not mess with the guy who has access to the tools.

-Neither of them really like just hard liquor. Volt likes sweeter drinks and Eddie likes quality craft beers. If either sees the other drinking something like scotch/whiskey they can usually assume somethings wrong.

-Volt has sooooo many ideas for the club, several of which are not exactly... possible. Eddie has to be the one to break the news to him that No Volt we can't break down the retaining wall of the bar and turn it into an inanimal fish tank. Why? Because without it the roof would collapse!

-Volt's love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation

-Eddie's love language is acts of service.

-Going deeper into that, Volt loves physical touch, as previously mentioned. Eddie however does not. But they make it work, Eddie can tell when Volt needs a hug or just to have someone next to him, Volt can tell when Eddie is getting overstimulated or just needs space.

-They both have their ears pierced. Volt did it for both of them.

-Eddie actually quite likes talking to people, I mean he's definitely tended the bar at some point, he just doesn't like talking to annoying people. He's sarcastic and his humor is a bit deadpan and he's more reserved, but he 100% can be very funny and hold conversations very well with patrons and even better with friends.

-That being said, bro does not chat while he works on maintenance. If anyone, including Volt, is working with him, he isn't saying shit unless its telling them what to do, or looking over their work. If someones lucky they get a "Good job."

-Neither have ever been a fan of the dark, but they especially would not be after the black out.

-They both hate silence, I mean they work in a night club, at this point it just feels unnatural.

-Kinda already mentioned this but Volt gets quiet angry and Eddie gets loud angry. If Volt goes silent, you know you fucked up. On the opposite end, it will sometimes be assumed that Eddie is mad because he's being quiet but that just how he is, if Eddie actually is properly yelling you know he's upset.

-Nerve damage babyyyyyy. It is all up Eddie's arms, contributes to why he's not super touchy because his arms get that awful pulling, itchy, pain when something touches them.

-Volt can get some nasty fatigue. The electricity fluctuates? Bro is immediately drained, head rush, migraine, the whole shabang.

-Not really headcanon but neither of them are good at admitting they need help or at accepting it when its offered.

-They both know each others triggers tho, and make sure to tell the other to rest when they need to. Neither take their own advice.

-Eddie hyperfocuses like crazy. If he sits down with his tools, something to fix and no one around he will not move from that spot for hours.

-Volt is always jumping from project to project, person to person, never slowing down. There's a lot to do in the breaker box and he is more than happy to juggle all of it.

-Both of them forget to sleep because of these facts. and eat (do they eat?). and talk to other things. and talk to each other. and-

-They would be cat people. Volt has definitely brought up getting an inanimal from Mateo but Eddie is always hesitant (even though he would 100% end up loving it to bits if they got one)

----

Ya'll I think I'm a loser. Instead of being out on a night off I am sitting in my bedroom writing headcanons about an actual breaker box in a dating sim that I'm not even attracted to, I just think their silly. What is my life T-T

[julietcpulet]

what do you think would be the most satisfying ending for jinmao?

i'm so conflicted about them because while i do not want jinshi to ascend the throne, i have to admit a part of me thinks renouncing his true position would be a waste. i mean, he's a damn pretty good leader and sometimes i enjoy imagining him and maomao being a power couple together. but then i'm always like damn they both canonically wouldn't like that </3 (so, thank the lord for fanfics, right?)

anyway, an unhappy jinmao is hardly a satisfying ending. but then i also wouldn't want them to be commoners because, again, it'd be a waste. as for the "faking their death" ending, it sounds really romantic but i feel like it's too cowardly and ooc for them. they'd never back down from a challenge after all.

so yeah i don't know how natsu-hyuga will conclude their romance. maybe the ending will just be them finally getting together? like the ending of the kaguya-sama movie where the last shot focused on the two main leads' interlocking hands, and then boom, the end credits. that would be an open ending (and i think that's what natsu was intending from the start), but is that satisfying? i'm not sure. just wanted to know your thoughts!

Love this question! And so sweet of you to be interested in my input 💕. Here's a breakdown of my thoughts on each possible ending and my personal speculation on an ending I like. Of course I have no idea what Hyuuga is really planning but just going on general direction and how things could play out if these were the proposed endings. (Spoilers below)

Emperor and Empress ending - I agree that this isn't the ideal nor the likely ending. To me, although there are factions pushing for Jinshi to be Emperor, it all feels like a mis-direct to the final outcome. Both Jinshi and Maomao are opposed to him becoming Emperor and he knows she would be miserable as a woman at the head of the nation, holding scorn from the other women.

Jinshi felt it was something close to a miracle that he had met a woman like Maomao. That was why he didn’t want to let her go. He’d gone so far as to press a brand into his own side, all to keep her.

He has struggled a lot to make it clear Maomao is the only woman he wants, he doesn't want to be the Emperor and also just is not the right person for the job. I don't believe these plot points are in vain only to be reversed later by a realization of avoidance and Jinshi wanting to accept his position out of familial obligation or maturity, nor do I think the plot is moving the characters in that direction. If anything it's continually showing that Maomao and Jinshi have to be willing to assert their own wishes against that of others despite what may be expected of them. And while Jinshi does have excellent leadership qualities, as Maomao easily points out, his kindness often brings him to overwork himself and struggle with dealing out harsh punishments or having necessary and uncomfortable entanglements an Emperor would have to have.

Jinshi was watching the pitiful family closely. He didn't seem to be thinking of how to punish them, but rather how to connect this to whatever came next. As he watched the family, Maomao silently watched him.

Romeo and Juliet ending - This was a favorite of mine previously and I still think there's the smallest possibility for it to happen but it's unlikely. I liked it simply because it brings back the resurrection drug which was a recurring theme for so long with Maomao wanting to obtain it and also the potential for a callback to the beginning of the novels with Shisui somehow making an appearance since she is the only character to disappear successfully and not be found. The downfall of considering this ending is two-fold. One is that Maomao and Jinshi do have some connections with people they may miss if they faked their deaths and disappeared. Her father Luomen might be able to come but Basen, Mrs. Chue, Lihaku and anyone else would never be able to see them again. Secondly, Maomao herself has said she sees death as a cop-out for escaping the fallout to problems you have caused.

"I hate it when people think everything's over just because they're dead!" It was as good as refusing to face the consequences of whatever you had done.

This to me is the biggest indicator this likely won't be the ending. It's interesting to consider and could bring back some fun appearances from early novel plots but I agree that given Maomao and Jinshi's character they're not much for disappearing and leaving others to handle the mess.

Grand Commandant and Court Physician ending - This is personally the most satisfying end for Jinmao I can imagine right now. Basically if Jinshi renounces his title as Moon Prince and Maomao accepts her role in the La Clan then they go on to get married with Jinshi being brought into the family, he could take on her clan name. From there, Lakan could step down as Grand Commandant and have Jinshi take the role. This would be optimal for both as Lakan appears to enjoy the strategy involved in military affairs but often delegates the rest of his work to his aids. He has found Jinshi interesting and should like to have a son-in-law who will take his position so he can retire to play Go games which is what I imagine.

To his surprise the eccentric strategist was there, lying on a couch and drinking from a gourd. To all appearances he was quite at his ease, but a secretary placed some paperwork sheet by sheet on a table and gave Lakan a stamp to press on them.

Being Grand Commandant would also give Jinshi the ability to back up the Emperor's son with Gyokuyou while not being his enemy. Jinshi has had a clear interest in the military from having the training, to when he stormed the Shi clan stronghold himself and then has wanted to boost the ranks of the military but been denied given that his current position is mostly in name and he has to go through others to do the things he wishes in the government. It also removes Lakan as such the fearsome threat against the Emperor and puts his son in the position whom he trusts.

When the younger brother had at last appeared, though, it turned out that he was as beautiful and as gossamer as a celestial nymph-and that he was also a hale young man as skilled in the military arts as the administrative.

As for Maomao, her accepting her place in the La Clan is integral to both her and Jinshi potentially being free from the grip of Imperial politics. Ironically this whole time Jinshi has been taking the burden on himself to find ways of removing the obstacles for both of them by getting himself taken out of the line of succession. It would prove to me to be funny if it turns out that Maomao accepting a noble position is the key to both of them finding actual freedom.

From my perspective if she becomes the La Princess not just in others recognizing she is outwardly but taking on the Clan name and what comes with it, I think it could open other possibilities for her and Jinshi. Like I said above she and he could get married if he was no longer royalty and he could take on her clan name, as we've seen that men can be welcomed into a wife's family and become the head of that family.

The position itself would bring her a noble status, which she could then use to work in the circles Jinshi would be in as Grand Commandant. For instance, if he is no longer considered a threat to the Emperor, he could also put forward more initiatives like he used to in the rear palace like helping the women read but along the lines of potentially having female physicians. I think the Emperor would accept without a problem, he merely needed someone who was respected with in the Imperial Court and who could make a reasoned argument for it to present the idea.

If Maomao then becomes a Court Physician in her own right she can still see Empress Gyokuyou and treat her as a doctor without having to be her lady-in-waiting or her servant and not being able to have a connection to Jinshi. She could be friends with the Empress again because she has her own established position which finally removes her biggest fear that has driven so much of Jinshi's efforts to remove himself as a potential successor.

Finally, I find this possible ending to be the most satisfying because what Maomao and Jinshi want most is to help people. And a place they can be where they have the best ability to help people is where they would thrive the best.

"You're only human, Master Jinshi. You're not some mythical immortal who can save everyone." She held his face in her hands, the fingers of her left hand brushing his scar. "You can be wounded, scarred, brought low. Only human."

Being Emperor and Empress would only stifle them because as we see with the current sovereigns there is a lot they cannot do and their hands are tied by relations with foreign nations and keeping friendly terms in the palace itself. Being commoners wouldn't work either because as we have seen with Maomao, having to constantly work and scrape for very little causes a defeatism of feeling like you're not able to do much for others or improve life for yourself.

Sadly but truthfully, Luomen won't be around forever and to me Maomao will find happiness taking over for him as Court Physician and working with the Quack in the Medical Office where she's comfortable and able to help the ladies and others, plus she'll always have access to the best medicines and can visit her Verdigris House family at any time. This ending also brings back the feeling of the early novels where Jinshi can peek in on her in the medical office after he's finished his paperwork as Commandant but this time they're able to go get chicken skewers together and have the freedom as husband and wife.

He wished he could have gotten her tucked into bed sooner, with a nice, soft blanket around her. She hadn’t been able to resist her first sleep in days, and she looked as comfortable as if she were in a pleasant bath.

Here they're both able to work, doing something they enjoy but freed from troublesome entanglements, all the while finding new ways to improve the lives of others. That's a happy ending to me.

Lastly, I don't see it having them be together and fade-to-black, I think we'll know some of what their future holds. To me the idea of being open-ended is more, the possibility for further adventures to be had. So we can see them get married, have jobs and be happy but that doesn't mean there couldn't be more, there just wouldn't be at the time we leave them because they've achieved a certain peace for the moment.

That was longer than I intended it to be 😂 but fun to write and explore the different endings. Thanks so much for the question!

[abitohoney]

For those of you not subscribed to me on AO3, I started another Sevika multichap. It's a bit different than my usual flavor of porn with/without plot as it starts with Sevika and reader in their teenage years (granted I'm sure there will be porn much later in the story once they are adults), but I think (hope) it's worth reading. I've already got 4 chapters posted.

Summary:

As a child, you were a bit of a loner. Part by choice, part by your inability to find someone to connect with, given you were an outsider-- not from the Undercity. Just when you think you’re destined to be that way forever, you meet an aloof, tough, young girl who flips your world upside-down, but in the best way. Through your teenage years, you and Sevika start your own little revolution against Topside, and the two of you inevitably become closer and closer. Once you finally realize there’s possibly something more there than just friendship, you find yourself ripped away from everything you’ve grown to care about– from her. When you return decades later, a full-grown woman with an understanding of those feelings you’d had for Sevika, you’re not sure what exactly to expect when you go looking for her. You only hope that she’ll accept you back into her life in one way or another. OR Snapshots of your history with Sevika. From the day you first met in your childhood years, through your teenage years when you’re unexpectedly ripped apart, to decades later when you’re finally reunited.

[anyarose011]

Born Too Late III: "It Ain't Me, Babe"

Pairing: DBF!Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Reader

Summary: You're not out of the woods even after your roommate's crazy ex-boyfriend beat you to a pulp. Over a series of setbacks pushing you to the brink of several panic attacks (or is it just one really long one?), you still manage to find refuge in a few, safe people. But, in the words of Doechii "And just when it couldn't get worse", the worst possible person finds out about you and Robby...

Part 3 of 3 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past Physical Assault, Blood, Inevitable Medical Inacuracies, Allusion/Mention of Sexual Assault, ANGST, Trent and Kimi, Reader has valid crashout(s), Healing of Daddy Issues?, Rant about a Real Criminology Concept, and a Realistic but Open-Ending.

I do have to say that this was one of my favorite stories to write on here. Not even for the purpose of Robby x Reader, I just loved the dynamics of all the characters and plot overall. I truly hope that the ending doesn't seem like a cop out; my intention was to write it as real as possible, especially since this all took place in one day. I'm tempted to write a prequel to this, showing all of the "missing scenes" alluded to throughout the story with Robby. We'll see how I feel lol. Thank you guys for ALL your interest, and hope you enjoy the ending! Sorry not sorry about the length, I yap 😭

Word Count: 9.2k

There were people you knew who had resting bitch faces. Dennis Whitaker was the first person you met to have a resting scared face.

That, and it was also because he asked you if you were okay, and you didn’t say anything.

He called your name. “Are you okay?”

Your mouth trembled as you tried to find the words. What left your lips must have been from the depths of your subconscious.

“Where-where’s my dad?”

You were outside of your body, but you couldn’t even see yourself. Hell, you didn’t feel like yourself.

Whitaker furrowed his brow. “Your…your dad?”

All you could do was nod.

“I’m not sure.” He responded gently. “Can I take your hand?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. You wanted to cry, but you didn’t know why you couldn’t. Whitaker took your hand, leading you alongside him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a bit; I know things have been crazy.” He smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay.” You whispered.

“Have you eaten anything besides chocolate today?”

You shook your head. “Have you?”

“No.” He laughed. “We can go get something from one of the vending machines in the break room.”

“I want to go home.”

God, could you sound even more like a sniveling child?

Whitaker stopped just a few feet away from the elevator and so did you. He got a better look at you; either that, or he was finally saying everything he first noticed when he ran into you.

 “What happened to your nose?” He asked gently. “It’s kinda swollen.”

“I don’t know.”

Why did you say that so swiftly?

He frowned. “Were you crying just now? I think some of your mascara got onto your cheeks.”

Instinctively, you wiped your face with your free hand as if you would find any residue. You shook your head.

“It’s nothing.”

Whitaker took a deep breath, lowering his voice and saying your name. “I’m going to be honest, I think you should get checked out by someone here. It doesn’t have to be me, but I think something bad happened to you. You don’t have to tell me-.”

“-I’m fine.”

“But please, let me help you.”

It felt wrong, how he wanted to. No, it was his job to do that; there’s no way someone could see right through you when you were actually not doing well. You had relationships (friendships and romantic) where you had to earn the privilege of people caring for you.

You’d gotten used to it. Mainly with Kimi but also others who you thought were safe.

It felt like your skin was burning, and it was only then you realized you were still holding his hand. So, you dropped it.

“Thank you,” you felt like a puppet on strings as your mouth moved. “but really I’m fine.”

“Did you drive here?”

He wasn’t giving up.

“Yes.” You sighed. “I know what you’re doing, I can-.”

“-One of the guys on the night shift got here early and discharged me.” He interrupted, yet somehow, you weren’t annoyed. “We can go get your stuff and then get dinner. Anywhere you want, my treat. I mean, as long as it’s not like over a hundred bucks or something.”

You wondered if he was smiling out of nerves or trying to cheer you up. In your experience, it was usually both.

“I’ll drive.” You stated.

He thinned his lips. “You had a rough day; I can do it.”

You snorted. “So, if you’re driving my car, how are you getting home?”

“I’ll call an Uber.”

Usually, you would’ve made a joke about his male privilege and being so carefree about taking an Uber home late at night, but circumstances didn’t allow you to. Still, as if it hadn’t been one of the worst days of your life, a watery smile pulled onto your lips.

The ‘ding!’ of the elevator beside you made your head turn, and the doors slid open. Standing there, was Trent, seething. Blood coursed down from his nose to his chin, and where you once saw nothing behind his eyes, they were now filled with the rage you knew all too well.

You met his gaze the same time your soul left your body.

“You fucking bitch!” He charged you.

It happened all so fast.

Trent was just a hair away from you one moment, the next, Whitaker flung you behind him. You landed onto the ground, and when you looked up, you saw Whitaker go face first onto the floor beside you.

Crying in horror, you grabbed onto a nearby cart and pulled yourself onto your feet. Everything playing in your ears was simply noise; people were yelling and screaming, but you couldn’t make out a word they were saying.

It was only your eyes you could trust.

If they did not deceive you, you watched Jack Abbott tackle Trent to the ground; the first one to do so…When did he get there?

And, it was then that your vision began to blur as tears clouded your sight, that part of your hearing returned. As you stood there, with Jack holding Trent down, for verbatim, you heard.

“Did you get off my little girl when she told you to?!”

Someone wrapped their arm around your shoulders, turning you away, but something in your body told you that they were safe. You could barely see anything as you were led through the ER; only hazy objects and blaring lights. Someone was talking in your ear too, but again, it was just all noise upon the noise coming from the catastrophe behind you.

 You hadn’t even realized you were clinging to the person like a buoy in an ocean you were stranded in until you heard a door slide shut behind you. Like a miracle, your vision started clearing up, and air entered through your nose and into your lungs.

Then, the taste of blood on your tongue.

You touched your nose, pulling your hands away to see them coated in red.

Melissa King gently called your name, placing her hand on your back.

“You should sit down.” She moved away from you to dim the lights, and your eyes caught sight of one Heather Collins in the room as well, prepping one of the beds.

Somehow, just at the sight of a medical bed, did you finally realize how much everything hurt.

Yet, you couldn’t rest.

The little girl, practically a baby, the one who got stung by a bee, you had to make sure she was okay, you had to-!

Collins rested her hands on your shoulders, stopping you. “It’s okay. Robby checked on her a minute ago, she’s fine. You need to sit down.”

Did you say all of that aloud? Could she read your mind? Oh God, if she could, then does she know-?!

“-Holy fucking shit!” Santos opened the door, and you never knew her face could morph into such fear. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “Is Dennis okay?!”

He threw himself in front of you and was fucking pummeled to the floor!

Santos looked out the door before looking back. “I’m gonna be honest, his nose kinda looks messed up. But hey, you’re twinning.”

“Santos!” Collins scolded.

“Right, you’re right.” She nodded. “I’m so sorry I-.”

“-I heard you had a spinal tap to do.” Collins interrupted.

“I’ll go.” Santos gave one last look to you. “I’ll talk to you later, I swear.”

And then she left. It wasn’t the strangest, nor the quickest, interaction you had with someone…but fucking hell, this day.

Mel said your name again, but this time, strained. You looked at her and saw her gaze downwards at your pants. Following it, you saw blood seeping through the fabric around your groin.

Your jaw trembled as you looked back up at both her and Collins. As professionals, you knew they had seen worse than this. As women, you could see that familiar look of horror on their faces.

“He didn’t do anything.” Were your first words. “Not like that.”

“Baby…” Collins uttered.

“No, no,” You resisted. “I’m on my period! I-I-Mel, you gave me a pad this morning. I got him off me and-and I got it out and put it in his face so he’d stay off. I-I-I mean he bragged about pulling a girl’s tampon out of his mouth one time, so I didn’t think he’d overreact.”

What were you even saying?!

“I’ve had sex before! I-I would know, I would know if that bastard did something to me and-and-!” You hiccupped, feeling more blood seep through your nose and into your mouth.

“It’s okay,” Collins soothed. “we believe you. Can you sit down so I can assess you?”

What other choice did you have?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you tried to catch the blood still gushing out of your nose before it could get on more of your clothes. Too late for that.

Mel went to one of the drawers nearby as Collins held up her finger. “Follow it.”

You did; passed with flying colors.

“EOM is intact.” She told herself, then took a mini flashlight from her pocket, shining it in your eyes. “Pupils are reactive. Do you have a headache?”

“Kinda.”

“Does it hurt to breathe through your nose?”

“Weird, but doesn’t hurt.”

Mel came beside you with a handful of tissues and a nasal tampon. “I’m going to clean up the area around your nose, and this should pack the bleeding.”

You hummed. “You got one for me to put between my legs?”

She shook her head.

“Extra pants?”

Collins slipped off her sweatshirt, draping it over your legs. “I got some in my locker, plus a pad.”

You nodded, getting choked up. “Thank you.”

“Mel,” she looked at her. “could you finish up?”

She affirmed. “Of course.”

“I’ll grab some icepacks.”

Collins left, leaving you alone with Mel. It felt strange; both your body and the entire day. Still, Mel wasn’t one to dwell on it, unlike you.

She brought the tissues up to your nose. “Your gonna feel some pressure.”

You grunted as she placed the Kleenex onto your nostrils. The white tissues turned red, and she carefully slid the tampon into your left nostril. Apparently, that was the only one bleeding.

Mel placed her thumbs on your face. “Tell me when you feel pressure.”

They traveled up around the area of your nose, and it was only when she touched the septum did you hiss in pain. Mel walked back over to the drawer, then taking out a few wet wipes.

“Well,” she hunched over, cleaning the blood off of you as gently as she could. “it’s not misshapen, so that’s good. It’s not broken either. Swollen and bruised, but all you really need are icepacks and I could get you some pain medication.”

“Could you take pictures?” You asked out of the blue.

 “I’m sorry?”

“Police usually take pictures of injuries for evidence, but could you?” You explained. “I just want to get it out of the way.”

Mel nodded. “Yeah, of course. Is it just your nose?”

You sighed. “No. It might be my head, I don’t know. He kicked me in the ribs…I think…yes, he did.”

“If you feel comfortable, would you want me to take pictures of those too?”

“Yes.” You said with certainty.

She backed up enough to give you space, taking out her phone. You decided to start with your ribs. They were tender, but thankfully, it wasn’t impossible to pull your shirt up. After Mel took a picture, you pulled it back down and she took a few photos of your nose and head.

“This is the worst photoshoot I’ve ever been in.” You joked.

“I’ve never been in one.” She stated.

“Let’s change that when the weather’s better.”

“Alright.” She put her phone away. “Now-.”

The door slid open, and in came Kimi like a bat out of hell.

“-What the hell did he do to you?!” She approached you.

Mel placed her hand on her shoulder. “You can’t be in here-.”

“-Fuck you, she’s my roommate.” She kneeled in front of you. “Baby, what happened?”

You hadn’t realized there was a long list of people you didn’t want to see at that moment, and she was near the top. You looked away, scowling and slipping the tampon out of your nose. Luckily, the blood finally stopped.

She didn’t take that as you being angry with her. She huffed. “Motherfucker. What’d you say to him?”

You finally looked at her. “What?”

“I’m just asking.” She explained. “He’s never done this before when I was a bitch, so you probably pissed him off-.”

You laughed. “-You’re an idiot.”

Kimi’s eyes shifted. At first, she was confused, then it quickly seeped into appalment. “What do you mean?”

You fell into a fit of giggles like Alice did down the rabbit hole. “I have told you hundreds, thousands, of times that whenever Trent hit something near you or me, then he actually wanted to hit one of us!”

Standing up, you weren’t laughing now. “And my God, I have never met someone who hates themselves so much, they bring a baby into the world for validation. But no, no, no, they’re not expecting to get it from the kid, they’re so fucking stupid they still think they’ll get it from the dad!”

The door slid open gently, and Collins came back in, carrying the pants, a single pad, and an ice pack. She said nothing.

Kimi didn’t lash out, and that’s what terrified you. Tears flew down her cheeks as you yelled at her, but she took a deep breath once you were finished.

“So, what should I do? Fuck my fifty-year-old boss?” She huffed. “How’s that working out for you?”

She marched out of the room, past Collins.

A part of you wished that Trent had killed you in the bathroom; you couldn’t feel shame if you were dead.

If not that, then you wished he somehow blinded you; just so that you wouldn’t have to see the way Heather Collins’s face dropped at the revelation.

Those two seconds in that room were brutal after Kimi left. Just where your gaze could only fall to the floor, and you didn’t even want to imagine the looks Mel and Collins were giving each other; or you.

“She has whiplash.” Collins said. “She can’t leave alone unless she signs an AMA.”

Just like that, you felt Mel hover her hand over your shoulder before retracting it and rushing out of the room. You stood there like a child who had just been yelled at, and didn’t dare to even breathe.

“How about we put these on?”

And Heather spoke to you like you were still one, but not with any hint of disdain in her voice. Hesitantly, you looked up and saw her holding the pants out to you. With shaking hands, you took them in yours.

She picked up her sweatshirt from the floor. “I’ll cover you. You can turn around if that makes you more comfortable.”

You nodded, and she draped the sweatshirt in front of you, giving you privacy from any peering eyes outside. Slowly, after getting your pants down to your knees, you slipped your underwear down; your ribs aching with every move. You managed to secure the pad, and as you tried to pull your pants all the way down, the sharpness in your side forced a hiss out of you.

“You need help?” She asked.

You shook your head immediately but seethed and clutched your ribs when you tried again. Collins set her sweatshirt aside, placing a comforting hand on your back and dropping down.

“I got it.”

She helped you out of your bloodied pants, and you placed your hands on her shoulders as you put one leg into each hole of the pants she got for you. Your eyes watered at the familiar feeling; how old were you the last time you did this? Seven? It’s so strange to remember such a small thing as your mother dressing you, not knowing when it would be the last time.

“There we go.” Collins smiled, standing back up, then guiding you to sit back down on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” You finally managed to say, even if it was barely above a whisper.

She shook her head, handing you an ice pack. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

She hates you. You told yourself.

You saw Kiara come to the door, and your heart leapt into your chest. She waited as Collins cracked it open, and they talked in hushed tones. In the end, Kiara came in and she sat at your side.

You had to cross your arms to keep yourself from throwing them around her. You doubt she would’ve cared, but it was strange; at that moment, you wanted to be held, but still would’ve felt like you were suffocating.

“Hey.” She greeted gently.

“Where is he?” You asked.

 “Well,” she began, not knowing exactly who you were asking for. “Whittaker’s being checked on, and he won’t stop asking if you’re alright. Trent was secured in a room, but the police just arrived so he’s in custody now. They want to talk to you, is that okay?”

You nodded. “If it’s a fucking man, I’m leaving.”

“There’s a woman.” She comforted. “She already volunteered to speak with you. At any point, if you want to stop-.”

“-I won’t.”

She said your name, warning but not to scare you. “I know you want justice; we all do. Still, you have to do what is best for you in the moment. You have every right to react the way you need to. Do you want Dr. Collins to be in here?”

You shook your head.

“Alright.” Kiara looked at her. “Could you send in officer Moreno, please?”

Collins nodded. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

Before you could say that her shift was over, she left. There you sat with Kiara, staring at an empty corner of the room. Without thinking, you laid your head on her shoulder. She said nothing; just ran her hand up and down your back as the officer came in.

It was different being the one to tell the police what happened to you. You were either in the cop’s position asking questions, or Kiara’s, just being a support for the other person.

Officer Moreno was nice enough. She never pushed you, but she wasn’t exactly comforting either. You understood she just wanted everything to write a report for, but you knew this wouldn’t be the last person you’d have to talk to.

The more you spoke about what happened to you in the last fifteen minutes (fuck…was that all it’d been?), the heavier your body became. You didn’t even feel a hint of fear or sadness within you; just the aching in your nose, and the exhaustion that swept over you.

Officer Moreno asked to take photos of your injuries, and you told her you’d taken them already, saying you’d give them to her.

“You’re efficient.” She complimented.

I have to be; you wouldn’t do anything if I wasn’t. You said in your head, but aloud you uttered. “Thanks.”

She left you with a phone number to send pictures to the police, a case number if you “remember anything else”, and a “Goodnight.”

That left you and Kiara together.

“Where’s Kimi?” You asked.

“She was calling her mom to pick her up last time I checked.” She answered. “Do you need a ride home?”

You shook your head. “I’ll get my dad to.”

“Dr. Abbott’s on call right now.”

Of course she knows.

“I can do it.” She offered.

“Kiara.” You said. “I’ll call a friend from my building.”

“I just want you to get home safe.”

“I will.” You smiled. “You’ve been here longer today. Go home.”

She sighed, standing. “You’re not coming in tomorrow. I’ll get Zidan to escort you out if you do.”

You forgot who that was for a moment, until you remembered him as the security guard. You were going to have to make him cookies or something; he probably had to deal with not just Trent, but a million other people.

Kiara said goodbye, giving you one last look before leaving. Just as you stood up to escape, Collins came back inside, carrying your purse and lunchbox.

“I’m sorry, I got the code from Jack.” She set them down. “How’re you feeling?”

You don’t know why, you had been asked that damn question countless times that day, but Collins asking it was the final nail in the coffin. Hours of repressed tears finally escaped your eyes, and you covered your mouth.

She immediately placed her hands on your arms, looking over you. “Are you in pain?”

“I’m sorry.” You hiccupped, rubbing your eyes.

“There’s nothing to-.”

“-Yes, there is!” You sobbed, and everything came out like a confession in a Catholic church. “I-I didn’t know you and Robby were together. I-I didn’t even know that he’d be a supervisor, or-or that I’d work with him, or even-or even that…”

Collins wrapped her arms around you, and you hid your head in her shoulder. She shushed. “I’m not mad.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No,” she pulled away, still holding onto you. “I’m not.”

You searched her face. You couldn’t find a hint of anger, but you knew she had to have felt something towards you. “Weren’t-weren’t you together…?”

“Not for a long time.” She shook her head.

You rubbed your face with your sleeve; you had cried all of your mascara off. Sighing, you picked up your belongings.

“I’ll wash your pants. Thanks.”

She laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Just wait a little bit.”

“You’re done with your shift, I’m done with mine.” You shrugged her off. “I’ll call a friend, I won’t drive.”

Except you would.

Collins said your name, and you only wished her goodnight, walking out the door. It was a miracle no one was instantly surrounding you, asking for answers to questions you had no energy to even listen to. You were making your way to the door to Chairs when-.

Your name left your stepfather’s mouth. You glanced to the side and saw him making a beeline towards you from across the room. Without any uncertainty, you turned around and walked back where you came from.

Like a demon in the night, you felt panic fester within you once again, just when you thought it was all over. You weren’t running, but your legs began to burn alongside your chest as you tried to find the nearest exit.

You pushed your way outside and found yourself in the ambulance bay. Still, despite there being only two paramedics and one security guard, there were still too many people. Your vision blurred once again, and you limped against the wall until you found the small opening to the alleyway.

Collapsing against the brick wall, you dropped everything you were holding and hid your eyes in your hands.

And you cried; really, truly cried.

Then crying turned into sobbing, then to weeping, then into you having to cover your mouth as you started wailing. You didn’t know when the walls of the alleyway started closing in on you, and neither did you know if it was your own shame or the walls crushing you to the point where it hurt to breathe.

You couldn’t even think. Every time you panicked, the weight of the world and all of your actions came into your head like a horrible flicker. Not now; no, there was nothing but white, hot pain.

“Put your head between your legs.”

They were just words. You couldn’t recognize the voice, but you listened. Knees bent, you bowed your head.

“Breathe.” The voice said, and it sounded deeper. “In and out. In and out.”

You did. The countless times you had to coach someone through an anxiety attack coming back to you.

It must’ve been another minute before you could feel your heart slow down and hear the ordinary sounds of the night; a pleasant mix of the bugs on the ground beside you, and a near-distant ringing of an ambulance.

“Rough day?”

It was Robby. That was the voice who had guided you through the second panic attack that day…or was it your third? Or had you just been in one that lasted a full half-hour?

You laughed upon looking at him, shaking your head and drying your eyes.

He offered a pitiful smile. “That bad?”

“Yeah.” You heaved. “Does this mean I’m doing a good job at coping if I’m laughing?”

Robby shrugged. “If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.”

“I’ve done too much of that today.”

He nodded, not saying anything. You rested your head against the brick wall. Maybe it was better that you saw him after all the shit that hit you in such a short amount of time. In the end, tears and all, the whole day was just ridiculous.

“Do you want me to tell you what happened?” You asked.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He looked at you.

Sighing, you realized that, yes, you actually did.

“I wasn’t sexually assaulted.” You said it so easily. “It just…hurt, what he did. Nothing’s broken but I still feel like shit and it’s…it’s funny. I apologized. I was so unprofessional towards him, and I apologized, but he still did this. I did everything right and he still did this!”

Robby shook his head. “Don’t go down that road. Nothing you did to him could ever justify what he did to you.”

“No,” you didn’t even listen, tone laced with sarcasm. “I did so many things wrong now that I think about it. ‘Christie’s Ideal Victim, 1986’; there are five things that make the perfect victim. ‘She, always a she, is physically weaker than the attacker’; gold mine if she’s a kid or a grandma, so I did that wrong. ‘The victim is doing a respectable task when the attack happens’: I was having a mental breakdown, so debatable. ‘Next, the attack happens in a place she could not be blamed for being in’; I was in a sketchy as fuck bathroom in the basement, so yeah, my fault. ‘The offender is physically stronger’; holy shit, he was, so I did that one right! ‘Finally, the victim has no prior relationship to the offender; he is a stranger.’ Well shit, I failed the perfect victim test.”

He sighed, saying your name.

“I’m not done.” You said, voice shaking. “Now I added my own qualifications to this obviously bullshit concept we were taught for ‘educational purposes despite how out of date it is’. What did I add, you’re asking? Only pretty girls, only nice girls, only virgin girls, and only white girls. Those are the only girls that apparently are the perfect victims to a lot of people. It’s been almost forty years, and there are still people who believe it.”

Robby’s gaze never left you, even when you looked away from him, talking to the actual brick wall in front of you. Yet…he listened. He was quiet after you finished, but only to let you breathe.

“I didn’t know any of that.” He finally said. “It’s horrible.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry, that teaching just always stuck with me and…”

“It came out tonight?” He asked.

“Yeah…” You brought your knees to your chest. “I’m gonna have to see Trent and Kimi again. Court, I think.”

“If you ever need-.”

“-I need a cigarette,” you tried to diffuse the pain, despite bringing it up. “that’s what I need.”

He scoffed. “Should’ve asked me five years ago. Anything else I could get for you?”

“Is there a Jewish prayer that kills someone?”

“You smoke and you’re religious?” He feigned shock, but you could still see inklings of it on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many secrets.”

“Answer the question, Robinavitch.”

“No.” He huffed. “Not that I know of, at least.”

“I’m not really religious either.” You sighed. “After the day I had though…”

He nodded. “I’ve been there.”

“You’ve been a girl lost in her twenties before?”

“I’m a son-of-a-bitch in my fifties, and I’m still lost.”

As if you shared a mind, you both laughed. It wasn’t loud or even jubilant; more so just an acknowledgement of how weird the whole situation was. There was a sense of familiarity with how you were talking to him.

How you and Michael joked around but also were capable of serious conversations, whether it was about personal struggles or just current events.

Now though? As you sat in an alleyway just outside of the place you discovered who Robby really was? There was more of an honesty; a shameless one.

“Makes sense,” you wheezed. “we fucked each other.”

Although he was getting over his laughter, he still asked. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Your smile began to fall, but somehow, you couldn’t lose it fully. Call it insanity, or call it nerves, you still spoke with it.

“I mean…I actually liked you.” You admitted, and instead of feeling horrible, it felt better to finally say it. “I slept with you because you were nice, and you made me feel safe, not just because I had an itch or something. I knew we wouldn’t date or anything, but…I just really liked you.”

Robby had a horrible poker face when it came to women; he told you that when you first caught him smiling in a way you’d never seen a man smile at you before. Now, he was looking at you, face fallen into…not exactly pity, but something alike to it.

He took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to hurt you; it was never my intention.”

“…You kissed my forehead the next morning, then left. I saw the note saying I could stay but…I felt stupid just waiting for you, so I went home. You didn’t leave me your number or anything else, then I didn’t see you again.” You sounded more confused than wounded. “I know I was stupid. You probably just wanted to feel younger and-.”

“-It mattered to me.” He stopped you. “Yes, there’s no way we can keep this up; I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Don’t think that I regretted it, or that it didn’t mean anything to me. I liked you too.”

You genuinely didn’t expect him to be so vocal about it. It would’ve been easier for him to just nod and agree that it was nothing more than a primal feeling; no emotions on his side. Still, there he was, openly admitting it all.

You breathed in through your nose, despite how strange it felt. “I wish I was born the same year you were.”

Robby kept his eyes on your form, and when you glanced over at him, you wondered if his response would be ‘Me too.’

But it wasn’t.

“I wouldn’t have been good for you.” He confessed.

“Why not?”

He said your name, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You swallowed, knowing that he meant it. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s…” He sighed heavily. “You’re going to find the right person one day, and they’ll be your age-.”

A laugh left your mouth. Except, it wasn’t a spiteful or doubtful one, even Robby could tell. It was the most genuine and honest one you felt that day.

“I fucking knew it!” You bragged.

He snorted. “What?”

“You had to have had that line in the holster or something.”

“Maybe I’ve just seen too many movies.” He laughed with you.

The both of you just sat there in the peculiar change of emotions. Of course it wasn’t the strangest thing to happen to you that day. To add to it, you said.

“I’m wearing your ex-girlfriend’s pants. She and Dr. King know, by the way.” He snapped his gaze at you, and you thought he was going to go into cardiac arrest. You shrugged. “Collins she…it’s probably just because I got the shit beaten out of me, but she acted like she didn’t care.”

Robby looked back at the brick wall, taking it all in. After a while he said. “That’s why she looked like she was gonna kill me a second ago.”

You snorted. “When?”

“Before you ran out here.” He clarified. “Jack saw you, I told him I’d talk to you because he was technically on duty, Heather comes out guns blazing saying something like ‘Don’t say a word to her,’. She tried to go after you, but I managed to get her to go home.”

You pursed your lips, surprised at Collins’ protectiveness. “Wanna divide and conquer? I talk to King, you talk to Collins?”

He nodded. “Sounds good. You uh…you gonna be alright? Going home?”

Looking down at your shoes, you took a bit to think. You didn’t really want to go back to your apartment, and maybe Kimi would stay home with her mom…but you were immature, you had just been beaten to a pulp, and you didn’t want to talk to her on the small chance she was at your apartment.

“Yeah, I mean…” It was second nature to avoid the conflict, but you caught yourself. “I know Trent won’t be there, hopefully never again, but I don’t know how I feel around Kimi. I was a piece of shit for what I said, but I don’t know how safe I’ve felt around her for a while. I told her how I felt about her boyfriend, she saw how he treated both of us, and I feel horrible she’s with him, but I won’t be collateral damage again.”

Robby nodded, taking a deep breath. “I might be overstepping, and I get if it’s a last resort, but if you ever feel unsafe at your apartment, you’re welcome to sleep at mine.”

You furrowed your brow, scoffing. “Is that really professional?”

“Just be respectful; and unless you’re dying, you’re on the couch.”

You both chuckled, the overall day only becoming more ludicrous by the second. You decided to add onto it.

“So, save for Collins and King,” you held your pinky up. “swear to never tell anyone about us?”

He snickered. “Really?”

“Yeah, mutually assured destruction. Whoever tells, has their pinky broken.”

 “Makes perfect sense.” He locked his pinky with yours. “Do we have to swear on anything or-?”

“-Nope.” You let go. “Pinky sworn.”

It felt natural after that, how you moved to hug him with no hesitance. He responded in kind, enveloping you into his arms. It felt…different. When you thought of it, the only times you really embraced were in moments of desperation, passion, even.

Now, it was quiet. For the first time that day, you felt at peace; both in your body, and inside his arms.

When he pressed his lips to your cheek just for a second, while it brought back memories, it was simply innocent.

He pulled away first from you, and you rubbed your eyes. “Thanks. Sorry about everything.”

“Don’t be.” He said. “‘Let everything happen to you, beauty and terror. Just keep going, no feeling is final.’”

“Oh hell yeah,” you smiled. “Jojo Rabbit.”

He furrowed his brow, not hiding his amusement. “Rainer Maria Rilke.”

“Yeah, it was in Jojo Rabbit.”

“Really? Haven’t seen it.”

“Oh, you’d love it. It’s about a little German boy in the 1940s who has an imaginary friend, and you’ll never guess who it is!”

“I don’t think I want to know who it is.” He chuckled.

You hummed, feeling just a little better. You looked around the alleyway, feeling as if you weren’t outside of an ER. “No wonder this is Jack’s favorite place to have a mental breakdown.”

“I would’ve thought the roof?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you saw that he wanted to take them back.

You blinked. “The…what?”

Well, there was something you had to talk to Jack about. It certainly wouldn’t be that night; too much to unpack.

“You didn’t hear it from me.” Was all Robby said, standing up and holding his hand out to you.

Sighing, you took it. “Think he’ll say more to me, or to you?”

“Whenever I find him up there,” he pulled you up. “I just guilt trip him into not jumping because that’s a horrible way to start a shift.”

“On parr with finding out you screwed the new hire?”

“Don’t push it.”

You snickered. “I’ll leave you alone. Have a good night.”

He wished you one as well, watching you go back into the ER, carrying all of your belongings. It seemed about as chaotic as you had known the night shift to be; although, it wasn’t even seven-thirty. There was one more person you wanted to see before you left.

Turns out though, there were two more who needed to speak with you.

“We’re not gonna ask if you’re okay because you’ll probably have an aneurysm.” Trinity Santos came up to you with Dennis Whitaker at her side. Her hair was down.

 “Okay?” You snickered, then looked at Whitaker. “Hey…thanks. I’m sorry your nose is fucked.”

He shook his head, offering a shy smile. “Don’t be. My brothers have hit me harder.”

“Aw, he’s just being modest.” Santos draped her arm around his shoulder. “He’s a regular ol’ Superman.”

“More like Clark Kent.” He corrected.

“Same person, Huckleberry.” She counter corrected. “Okay, so medically speaking, how are you doing?”

You pursed your lips. “Medically, my nose isn’t broken but always needs an icepack, I kinda have a headache, and my ribs hurt. Emotionally…everything.”

Santos nodded, a forlorn feeling upon her face; but somehow, you didn’t feel like she was pitying you. “I was about to beat the shit out of that guy if I didn’t have a baby coming in at the same time for a spinal tap. But we-Dennis has a proposition for you.”

All eyes fell on the poor boy whose nose bore a similar, semi-swollen resemblance to yours. He stumbled a little until he found the right words.

“We sometimes get together after a shift and watch a movie to decompress. We get food, and the person who had the worst day gets to choose the movie. We uh…we kinda appointed you, if you want to come. It wouldn’t be anything huge, just the three of us. That might be too much, and maybe you’re exhausted-.”

“-Oh,” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “so the only reason you’re inviting me to this secret movie club is because I got the shit beaten out of me?”

“No!” Whitaker gasped. “I-we just thought it’d be good to help overall after a stressful shift-.”

“Huckleberry,” Santos snickered. “she’s just fucking with you.”

He paused. “Oh…”

You smiled. “I’d love to. I uh…I technically shouldn’t be driving but my car’s here-.”

“-Do you mind stopping at Target to get some snacks?” Santos asked.

Pleasantly surprised by her question, you chuckled. “Um, no?”

“No sorry,” she laughed at herself. “I mean that I’ll drive your car, but is it okay if we get snacks on the way back to my place?”

“Oh! Yeah, sounds good.”

“Great!” She slipped her keys out of her pocket, holding them out to Whitaker. “You remember how to drive something other than a tractor, right?”

He made a face. “I’ve never driven a tractor before.”

“Bullshit, you told me you did.”

He shrugged. “Nebraska doesn’t even exist, why would I know how to drive a tractor?”

The conversation from earlier that day came to mind, and you saw in his eyes that he had it in mind as well. You smiled, turning your face down to hide it from the world. It had been a while since you had an inside joke with someone.

Whitaker took the keys. “I’m just kidding. Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“See you soon.” You wished him goodbye. Santos gave him a nod before he left. She turned to you, a shit eating grin on her face. You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “Ready to go?”

“Actually, I need to talk to someone first.”

“Who?”

Ah fuck it, You decided.

“My stepdad.” You answered. “He works the nightshift.”

“Damn! Who?”

You smirked. “You’re welcome to follow me at a distance to see.”

She made a face as if debating it. “Nah, I’ll give you privacy.”

Smiling, you nodded. “I’ll see you out front?”

“See you.”

She left through the doors into Chairs. Sighing, you began your search for Jack. On the way, you said a quick ‘hello’ to Ellis and went to check up on the little girl who had a bee sting. She was still there, speaking with the same police officer you had.

Your name cut through the air, and you looked to your right, seeing Jack approaching you. He wore the same look on his face you’d only seen on parents who had just lost their child in a supermarket only to soon find them.

“Hey.” He greeted once he stood in front of you.

“Hi…” You said. “Uh…is it okay to talk? I don’t know if you’re busy-.”

“-Unless Death himself comes into the ER, we’re gonna talk.”

Jack Abbott had technically only been a father for a few years (who knows if you can even count all of them considering you barely were at home after high school?), but he somehow managed to perfectly blend his strict tone into one of reassurance.

So, the two of you walked into the breakroom, and he spoke first.

“How was the shift?”

You smiled, sitting at the table. “Aside from getting the shit beaten out of me by my roommate’s boyfriend? Pretty okay.”

He sat beside you. “That’s a win in my book.”

That was the thing you and Jack had in common the second your mom introduced you to him: dark humor. You never hated him, but you never exactly got close with him. Maybe it was time to change that?

“Are you still in any pain?” He asked.

“Nose is getting a little better but is still sore, and so are my ribs.”

Jack nodded. “You got a ride home tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m actually gonna go hang out with Santos and Whitaker at their place, and then…” You couldn’t finish it. What were you going to do? You didn’t have the strength anymore to lie, saying you’d drive back to your apartment where Kimi might be.

You refused to stay with Robby, maybe Santos and Whitaker would take pity on you?

“I don’t know.” You choked on your words. “I said some horrible things to Kimi, but she also blamed me for what Trent did, and I…I don’t wanna go back to the apartment.”

Jack’s eyes softened. “You still got a key to the house?”

“Yours? Yeah.”

 “If you want to, your room’s still the same.”

You hadn’t slept in it since your mother died. You’d sometimes drive home from college and sleep over, so both your mom and Jack left it alone.

“You didn’t change it?” You couldn’t believe it.

He shrugged. “It’d take more effort to turn it into something else. I mean, it’s probably dusty as hell, but your bed’s still there, all your weird little trinkets and stuff from high school too.”

You scoffed. “It’s only weird to you, grandpa.”

“Sure, Jan.”

Both of you snickered, falling back into a rhythm you hadn’t known you lost. As it died down, Jack asked.

“But, you’re doing okay, kiddo? If you want to talk about it-.”

“-Not tonight.” You interrupted. “It’s just a lot but…you’ve probably seen worse.”

Jack looked like he wanted to say more, but he held back. It would’ve led down a farther hole of trauma, which you both knew you could not deal with. Instead, he asked. “You do anything I taught you?”

You grinned. “Yeah. Kicked his knee in and got creative with what I had around me.”

“Your pad, I heard.”

“It was his own fault he dabbled in fuckery!”

“Certainly was.”

“What…happened to him?”

Jack’s face grew sullen. Breathing through his nose, he said. “I got to him first and Robby had to pry me off. Bastard’s lucky he didn’t get a taste of my right foot.”

Damn…he was serious.

“Police took him away; I didn’t even get a slap on the wrist because he assaulted both you and a student doctor.”

You nodded. “Thank you...”

“Don’t mention it.”

You both fell into a tender yet awkward silence. There was so much but also nothing to say. It was actually Jack who tried to end the conversation.

“Well,” he stood. “I don’t wanna keep you from your new friends-.”

“-Would you wanna get breakfast sometime?”

It just fell from your mind and out of your mouth. You were hungrier than you thought and also wanted to spend time with him.

Despite working several shifts with Jack, and knowing him for years, you never saw him so surprised. Still, his face soon relaxed into one of mild glee.

“I’d love to, kiddo. How does tomorrow after my shift sound?”

Your eyes grew. “Really? You wouldn’t want to sleep in or something?”

“There’s nothing else I’d rather do.”

You weren’t going to cry, you had decided. Your stepfather, and essentially everyone else who had comforted you that night, were making it incredibly difficult.

“Do you need a hug?” He asked upon seeing your face; and most likely your attempt at repressing tears.

You shook your head. “I’ll bawl my eyes out again, and I gotta be somewhere after this.”

He hummed. “Wouldn’t want to embarrass you now, would I?”

“Well…” You placed your hand on his shoulder, attempting to still have physical affection without being overly vulnerable.

The awkward act, alongside a beat of silence, caused a fit of giggles to erupt between both of you. You must’ve laughed this hard with him at some point, but you couldn’t remember.

“I have therapy tomorrow at ten-thirty anyway.” He said, recovering.

“How’s it been?” You asked.

“Fine, nothing out of the ordinary.”

You nodded. “I’m really proud of you for going. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

He shifted in his seat but smiled. “Honestly, with what you’d been studying, it helped convince me. It sounds like the bare minimum for everyone if they’re able to go.”

Smiling, you teased. “You’re doing great; you’re raising my standards for men.”

“That a fact?”

You hummed. “If you didn’t start going to therapy, I would’ve married the first military man who asked, even if I only met him three weeks ago.”

“Hell no,” he played along. “eight weeks, I told you that.”

“Would you have proposed to my mom that quickly if you met her before you were deployed?”

“I would’ve married your mother sooner because I loved her.”

“Did you think that while you were dating her?”

“Of course I did.” He leaned forward, saying your name. “There are some people in this world who know in an instant who they want to spend the rest of their life with.”

You pursed your lips, thinking back to Robby, and everyone else you had ever dated in your life. “I don’t think I’m one of them.”

“And that’s okay.”

Sighing, you looked down at your watch and immediately stood with your belongings. “I should go. Hey…thanks for everything.”

Jack got up with you. “Don’t mention it. You got a ride?”

“Yeah, Santos. She’s driving my car.”

“Are you gonna sleep at the house tonight?”

“Uh huh.” You walked out of the breakroom, and he followed. “I’ll pick you up after your shift and we can get breakfast.”

“Are you okay to drive home?”

You turned to face him in the hall as you approached the door to Chairs. “I’ll be fine. If anything bad happens, I’ll call Ellis because you don’t have your phone on you, and she can tell you. Okay?”

Jack sighed. “Just doing my job, kiddo. Have you figured out which shift you want to do?”

That was the question. You’d done a week’s worth of the night shift, and only one day shift. You enjoyed people on both, and had personal history with both of the attendings…

“I think the day mostly.” You said. “I can’t come back in tomorrow, but I will after that. I think I like the vibe more. But, I’d also like to do at least one night shift a month; maybe two.”

Independence, but also not ignoring your stepfather’s existence.

Jack smiled. “I think that sounds reasonable. Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Jack.”

You’d work your way up to ‘dad’, and even the casual ‘I love you’. Still, it was more than apparent both of you were wholeheartedly fine with where you were at. Progress, that was what was being done.

Finally, you made your way out to the front of the hospital, and there was Santos, leaning against a streetlamp. She smiled, approaching you.

“How’s your daddy?”

You snorted. “He’s doing fine. How was your shift?”

She began walking to the parking lot with you beside her. “Not bad. I mean, kinda boring until your roommate and her batshit insane boyfriend came.”

“Glad they could entertain you.”

“I don’t mean it like-.”

“-No, I know.” You eased. “Do you have Mel’s number?”

She took out her phone. “Yeah, why?”

“I had her take pictures of my injuries, and I have to send them to the police.”

Santos glanced up at you. “How’d it go talking with them?”

“Eh.” You shrugged.

She chuckled, showing you her phone with Mel’s number on the screen. You created a new contact in your phone, then texted Mel as you and Santos walked.

“Hey, it’s your fellow member of the ‘Dead Moms and Unknown Dads’ club.”

Just as you typed it, you deleted it. Apparently, you still had the mental power to overthink things.

“Hey it’s,” you typed your name. “Could you please send me the pictures you took so I can give them to the police?”

It was then you decided to send another message. One completely different.

“I still owe you dinner, or lunch if you prefer. If you have any questions about what Kimi said after I blew up at her, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m okay with talking about it. Just could you not bring it up to anyone else, please?”

You had a feeling she wouldn’t text back that night. Maybe she’d talk about it tomorrow, or maybe she never wanted to hear about it? Still, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

“All good?” Santos asked.

You smiled, putting your phone back in your pocket. “Good.”

“If you ever need help with legal shit, I’ve kinda been around the block with it.” She reassured. “But I know you’re probably smart enough to handle it if you want.”

“Thanks.”

The two of you walked in silence, apparently you had parked in Kansas, your car was so far away. To fill the space, Santos said.

“Whitaker likes you.”

You looked over at her, a funny look on your face. You knew what she meant but tried to deflect. “Yeah, I like him too. He got decked in the face so I wouldn’t.”

“No.” She shook her head, chuckling. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I think he wants to ask you out.”

There it was. Even with all the shit that happened to you that day, there were good things. You reconnected with your stepfather, you somehow managed to have the most mature “breakup” with a guy twice your age, his ex-girlfriend took care of you despite knowing about all the shit you had done, and you made new friends for the first time in a while.

Still…it was all so much.

“I don’t think I’m ready to date anyone right now.” You admitted. “I’ve got a lot going on.”

“No, of course.” She said. “I just wanted to give you a heads up, just in case if you weren’t feeling that way towards him, or if you were-.”

“-Trinity,” you stopped her, smiling. “I’m good.”

She nodded. “Right.”

Even with an abrupt ending, there was not a hint of discomfort. After finally finding your car, you thought it would’ve all been over when.

“Hey, doctor Robby.” Santos greeted.

You drew your head up at his name and saw him approaching the car beside yours. This whole time…he had parked beside you and hadn’t even known. He rose his brow as if he had the same thought process as you.

“Hey, how’re you two?” He asked.

She shrugged. “We’re just dying down for the night, you?”

“Same. I have a date with my bed.” He chuckled, then looked right at you. “Are you doing alright? I can only guess how many times you’ve been asked that.”

You smiled. “Several, but I’m doing better now.”

“That’s good. Are you okay to drive?”

Santos jumped in before you could answer. “Nah, I’m driving little miss Starshine.”

“Starshine?” He asked, trying to hold back his amusement.

You hid your face in your hands. “Oh god.”

“How’d you get that from Dr. Santos’ extensive list of nicknames?” He questioned.

Santos took that as her cue. “She had too much caffeine one night shift, and both Whitaker and I were greeted by her.”

“It’s not that funny.” You rolled your eyes.

Robby disagreed. “I for one think it’s hilarious.”

Santos jumped in. “Please say you’re in tomorrow. I was gonna rely on her to be entertaining, but Kiara ordered her to stay home.”

He clicked his tongue. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s my day off.”

She sighed. “At least tell me you’re gonna do something useful.”

“I was thinking of going to a coffee shop, maybe.”

“Where?” You asked, curiosity bettering you.

Robby pursed his lips. “I heard Big Dog is good. Ever been?”

You tilted your head, managing to hide how perplexed you were. “Yeah, a few times. It’s alright.”

“I might try that one.”

All you could do was smile, not knowing his intentions. It could have been bait for a reconnection, it could have been a way of saying goodbye to a fantasy, or it could have just been him making conversation.

You tossed the keys to Santos. “Let’s go before Target closes.”

She smirked, unlocking the door. “You think I drive slow?”

“Maybe.”

Robby stepped in. “Please don’t get either of yourselves killed.”

“Yes sir, Dr. Robinavitch sir.” Santos snorted, getting into the car. “Come on, Starshine.”

You gave Robby one last smile before ducking into the passenger seat. After buckling up, Santos plugged her phone into the aux chord.

“Don’t play trash.” she said, starting the car and putting it into reverse.

Snickering, you put on your favorite song. As Santos pulled out of the parking spot, you made eye contact with Robby. Not knowing what else to do, you waved to him.

He waved back.

While Santos drove, you couldn’t help but ponder the day. It was one of the worst, there was no doubt about that, and it ended with more questions than answers. Yet, where that would leave you in a deep storm of turmoil, you decided to weather it.

If all of that happened in a day, who’s to say what would happen in a year?

Maybe you’d still be in Pittsburgh, maybe you’d be in a different continent.

Maybe you’d still be single, maybe you’d be married.

Maybe you’d still be roommates with Kimi, maybe you’d never talk to her again.

Maybe you’d still work the day shift, maybe you'd switch back to the night.

The best part?

You didn’t have to know right away.

[omniphilic]

ahem* hi hope you’re having a great day! Here are some concepts I thought of because there’s so much potential for angst in the Milf reader universe. Also the amber for this concept is show amber , I’ll wake one for comic amber later (if you want me too hehe)

Some people age like milk, some people age like fine wine but Ambers Mom?, she ages like ambrosia. That’s the local inside joke in the neighborhood, some moms envy her, some men love her, sons can’t go a day without staring at her. Does that mean she’s promiscuous? Oh no not at all, she’s kind, with a smile that can run a city, cooks like she was taught in the womb and always makes everyone’s day a but better, she also loves her daughter fiercely, VERY. FIERCELY. And would insult and/or beat the ever loving shit out of you if you mess with her family.

That’s why when Amber brought her first boyfriend home and he started making some berry suggestive passes at her mom, she did the best thing she could do, leave the room. Soon after he left, she called her daughter fi a chat and told her how her boyfriend made her uncomfortable and would want him at the house anymore, keeping the true story to herself so as to not sabotage her relationship with her daughter. Amber knew that there was still some truth yet to be told but trusted her mother either way, her relationship with her first boyfriend went smoothly (aside from her mother’s obvious distaste for him) that was until one day she caught him pants down jerking to a photo of her mom that he got from facebooking. She broke up with him instantly.

Now, you said in one of your answers to an als that this has been a recurring problem with amber and her boyfriends and I just think that’s why she avoids bringing them home to meet Milf reader , partially because she doesn’t trust them and part because she doesn’t want any of them to try to get too handsy with her mom (I feel like this may have happened before) and the other part is because she doesn’t want her mom to feel bad about it any time she breaks up with her boyfriends because of it. But when amber met mark, she felt he was different than the others, that he wouldn’t even dare do such a thing (how wrong she was).

It starts slow but she starts suspecting and soon she finds out and she is DONE, she comes back home angry and tear faced, MILF reader asks her what’s wrong and she EXPLODES and eventually saying a few words she can’t quite take back. Reader is mortified and immensely guilty, she begins to drift away, not out of spite or anger but fear that her presence will mess up the possibility of Amber finding true love, she can’t even look her own daughter in the eye and hovers around like she’s lost her spark and she has, her lovely daughter hates her (she doesn’t and feels guilty about what she said but doesn’t know how to apologize) so now everything just doesn’t seem right anymore.

Do they make up? Maybe idk but the whole concept gave me brain worms and I don’t know how to get rid of them , what do you think?

I LOOOOOOOOOOVE THIS BECAUSE YOU ARE LITERALLY LIVING IN MY MIND!!! you are in my cell dude, because from top to bottom, yes yes yes all over this. just. yes.

tw: inappropriate advances + touching. onesided, background reader x amber's boyfriends (mark's in too deep). slutshaming of reader, accusations of cheating and homewrecking towards reader. Mostly examining Amber and Readers relationship.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀18+ content below / MDNI

Amber has a great mom. You've been her number one fan ever since she could draw breath, you'd lose an arm and a leg for her, die, if it would make her dreams multiply. You already give her the world and have begun plotting on the moon.

So... you have a bit of a problem on your hands when that new boy she brings home sauntered up to you.

Your daughter is beautiful, so it's not very surprising she's bringing home boys. You want her to live her life to the fullest so you've no interest in cramping her style, eager to meet her little friends, even the ones you don't like that much. This one, you think has a bit of a problem.

He has that stupid smirk twisting his lips. You are quite familiar with that kind of boy--he's got something loaded in the chamber and an itchy trigger finger; whether it'd be cool or cruel, you think, naturally, it's some dumb one liner you'll find a way to one up.

As simple as boys can be though, you always forget how unpredictable kids these days are. Bold. Audacious.

He's all puffed chest and pomp, walking past the threshold of the kitchen island. You're smiling because it's your default, head tilted towards, face curious. You make an inquisitive noise, put on to his approach. He doesn't falter for a second, rosy cheeks bunching up with his smile. He's sweet just standing there, but then he opens his mouth, and things get sour.

"Hey, Mrs. Bennett!"

He exchanges pleasantries while standing watch hawkish, waiting for the right time to dip down with talons and catch you up.

He can manage normalcy for at most four minutes.

"Hey, bud! Anything you need from me?" He says 'no', but doesn't stand any less imposing or bothersome, blathering on about nothing for a few moments. The weather, the pool him and Amber are heading to, what kind of swimsuits 'look the best'.

You're half listening, hands busy and mind scoring over the itinerary for the day, so you almost don't hear him.

"I think you'd look really good in a bikini!" His eyes glance down at your breasts in your low-cut shirt, then flick back up. "Or in any swimsuit really. I see where Amber gets her beauty from, you know." Your head arches back, the corners of your eyes wrinkling as your expression expands, lips pursed as you nod, fixing your face as your mind recovers from that white flash. "I guess I'm just sorta surprised Amber doesn't dress like you do..." He sticks up his hand to cradle his chin between thumb and forefinger. "She doesn't really like to be all... showy."

Your body is shot, state of shock so strong you don't notice you cut your finger until it stings under the cool water. You grunt and glance down at the sink, look at the rivulets of blood tinting the water red, and think. He keeps going.

"I guess I'm just lucky she has a beautiful ma—looking at you is sorta like looking at her. Just a... bigger version."

You want to clean out your ears with the dish soap because you couldn't--can't--have heard him right. Disbelief makes you snort as you finish the last of the dishes and wash out your cut. You turn off the water and turn your head up, just to see him standing there, lingering effluvia, looking every part bitch and bastard.

He's staring at you because you never turn your back on a big cat and he's wishing the cougar would pounce. For the other shoe to drop, where you fulfill his fantasy and go belly up for him, claws sheathed, tail aside. Maybe he's imagining you'd be flattered, shy, meek, the take-it-like-a-good-girl type.

"I thought you were gonna tell me a joke or say something funny when you walked up like that. I mean, I guess I wasn't entirely wrong. But this isn't the place for whatever the fuck you got going on." You dry off your hands, wring them in a towel that you ditch on the counter. "Back up."

"What? "

You don't falter.

"I didn't stutter. Behind the counter, now." You don't ask nicely and he realizes he's forgotten himself, cowed, less enthusiastic as tries to back pedal. "I hope you don't speak to Amber like that—never mind your mother." You sneer at him, poised viper-like.

"Amber!" You call out, sing-songy. "Can you come here, please?"

Sunshine ducks her head in and the kitchen becomes very bright, alive despite the blight stood beside with you. "You good mom? Did something happ—Oh! You're in here?" She is immediately distracted by her boy-thing, and you wave him away. "Your boyfriend here was telling me you two are going to the pool?"

You watch him walk and stand beside her, plant a kiss on her cheek.

"Yup! You ready to go, babe?"

She looks up at him but is unable to meet his eye as he quickly brushes past, then back at you. Her face isn't mad, but not happy either, just confused. You smile with no teeth.

"I just hope you two have lots of fun out there, okay? Don't forget to take your sunscreen. Oh! And pictures."

You'll need to have a talk with her when she gets back.

She has very little patience for these kinds of things now but you try to settle the matter as delicately as you can each time.

"Your boyfriend... I think he's gotten a little too, comfortable, don't you think?" It's a delicate matter to discuss over meatloaf but the discussion is most certainly had, with you explaining as sweetly as you can manage how it’d probably be best if you two started meeting at his place is all.

They didn’t stay together for much longer after that, though Amber never exactly told you how it all shook out.

She doesn’t really need to.

Every boy seems to get it in their mind at least once, when they come over. It's always something. Brushing up against you in places with space for ten people, off color comments, backhanded compliments aimed at putting Amber down to big you up.

It's not only sick, but sad.

You could leave the room all you like, put on different clothes, say something, or say nothing. But nothing would change.

They all act the same.

It always ends the same way, too. Your tear-damp shoulder and more time wasted, mounting resentment hidden behind her trembling lip all coming to a head when the apple of her eye falls far from the tree.

This past one was a real shame, too.

That Mark Grayson. An adonis in a modern age, armed with a charm befitting of a boy and a smile you're not surprised wormed it's way into your daughters heart. He wears his interests on his sleeve, if the Seance Dog shirt he wore to dinner one time is anything to go by.

She was afraid to show him off to you. Called him her ‘friend’ whenever he came up in conversation, forgetting how her smile turns up whenever his name comes from betwixt her lips.

You had no problem not knowing. Though it would be better to stagger the arrival of this one, as she’s done times before. To lessen exposure, delay the inevitable.

But eventually, you will meet.

He's sweet enough, you'd reckon, if a little shy when you come 'round. Always head down, light blush as if he's always a little sunburnt.

"Hey Mark, could you pass me the—" Salt. It's in your hands before you can even finish the sentence, as if he knows what you want before you yourself. You found it sweet, if a little too attentive. Mark certainly knew how to make someone feel seen, special, though his affections should've been reserved for his girlfriend, not you.

Starts small. Hugs that last too long, odd looks across the couch, room, dinner table. An arm around the small of your back instead of around your shoulders. A heat simmering on your chest, though when you look up, it’s gone.

She watches you more carefully than him and maybe that’s what stings—that she doesn’t feel entirely assured that you’re batting for her team, that you’re not just trying to secretly whittle her down, because what really are the chances?

The chances she’ll catch Mark with your name on the tip of his tongue, chances she’ll catch him with your panties slip-sliding out his pocket?

Higher than zero.

After a point, you have to see how easy it is for her to concede that some of this is likely your fault.

The fault of a whore. A hoe, housemaker and home wrecker in equal measure, and while you aren’t surprised at the words she slurs and spits at you, it doesn’t make the disrespect hurt any less. You would think your bond paramount to that of any she could’ve forged with those boys—you wouldn’t sacrifice your relationship with the light of your life just to fuck about with pieces of meat, those stupid little men.

You thought your daughter would think so much higher of you.

You were mistaken.

In reality Amber is a young person dealing with complex emotions regarding inadequacy, having not felt like enough for a very long time.

You guys would talk very little in the following weeks, only when she needed, if she wanted. It’s lonely but you’ve your own friends to keep you company, to rave and rant to until Amber has worked through her emotions and chooses circle back around—discuss the things she’d said to you that night.

I think you and her would ultimately resolve your issues. Her new man, is it Kyle? The picture perfect gentleman, wouldn’t look at you sideways cause he’s too busy kissing the ground Amber walks on, treating her with tenderness, care.

You can find it in yourself to be happy for her, simultaneously breathing a sigh of relief. At least it’s over now.

[krispdreemurr]

goddamn i am so sick of "well you can't prove this Isn't possible" style theorizing and I really hoped we would have gotten rid of it with the new chapters. if the only thing that matters is that it's a thing that Could happen based on physical locations or whatever then fucking nice cream guy could be the knight. you genuinely have to think about the themes of Deltarune to analyze the plot. you cannot just go "well idk what it would mean but trying to guess what toby means is assumptive anyways lol" if you want to sell me on what you're saying. at least have an Idea of where you would like deltarune to go with it, wrong or right. at least say what you'd like to see it do.

[matt-murdockk]

request for spenceeeee (literally my boyfriend)

bau!reader and spencer are dating now, and they're just like talking about how they met and stuff casually and he's like you know i sorta tried to ask you out when we met? she's like what? you're telling me we could've started dating years ago??? he's like hey it's no big deal, ig you just weren't really into me back then and she's like not into you??? my brother in christ i stuttered and rambled for 3 entire minutes when we met what made you think i didn't like you

a whole lot of fluff badically thanks x

helloooo <3333 thank you so much for the request!!!! i had a WIP with sort of a similar theme as the ask so decided to combine them, i really hope you like it xo

Um, actually

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader words: 2.0k summary: A flashback to when you first met spencer helps you realize just how oblivious you were. But so was he, so it's all good. warnings: fluffffffff, possibly incorrect etymology facts, Spencer being a horrible cook for funsies, minor Brooklyn 99 reference (if you caught it i love you so much), glasses spencer !!!!! (not really all that relevant to the plot but i am a sucker for glasses!spence <3), established relationship

"Beeves? Really? Come on, that cannot be a real word."

Dinner conversations were always lively with Spencer. More often than not, it involved facts about the recipe, the origins, the historical significance, different interpretations of the same dish in other cultures, and whatnot. Today, it was etymology.

"It is!" he exclaimed, pointing towards you with his fork, way too excited about beef etymology in the most endearing way possible.

"You see, in the context of 'meat from cows', the plural of beef would just be beef. If we're talking about fights, disagreements, that kind of beef? It would be beefs. But beef also refers to an adult cow, steer or bull. So in this case, the plural would be—"

"Beeves?"

"Bingo."

"Huh, the more you know. You got more weird plurals?"

"Well,"

"Of course you do."

"There's moose, whose plural is actually—"

"Meese, obviously."

"Oh, no."

Eventually, dinner was done, dishes were put away, and you were now cuddled on the couch, his arm around your shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing circles on your bicep over the sleeve of your sweater.

It was quiet. Silent. But not the kind of silence that came with warnings and omens. It wasn't the kind of silence filled with premonition that you had so gotten used to with your job. It wasn't uncomfortable, and it wasn't foreboding. It was the kind of stillness that settled like morning fog over a quiet lake. Gentle, unmoving, and content to simply exist. The air bore a sort of warmth and hope that neither of you had been familiar with in years. Ever, if you're being honest. Beautiful thing, domesticity. Naturally, you were reminiscing.

"Spence?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Remember how we met?"

He tilted his head thoughtfully, lips pressing together as though deep in concentration. “Hmm… you know, I have an eidetic memory, but I can’t say I do—”

You smacked him with the throw pillow. He laughed, pulling you a little closer. “Of course I do. It's one of my favourite memories of us," he admitted, kissing your forehead. He smiled into your hair. “Crazy how much has changed, huh?”

You nodded, eyes still on the soft knit of his sweater sleeve. “Yeah. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“You know,” he said, suddenly bashful, “I tried to ask you out that day.”

Wait, what? Your head snapped toward him. “You did not.”

"Oh yeah. Crashed and burned splendidly."

"Spencer, honey, I feel like I would remember that."

“Um, actually,” he said, adjusting his glasses with mock seriousness, “that’s literally the first thing I did.”

You stared at him, slack-jawed. “Wh— what do you mean? We… we could have started dating ages ago?”

He chuckled lightly, shrugging one shoulder. “I mean, maybe? I thought I was pretty obvious about it. But you didn’t seem interested, so I figured—”

“No, no,” you interrupted, practically sitting up. “Believe me, I was interested, alright? Spencer, I stuttered and— and rambled for like three entire minutes when I met you. I forgot to tell you my name. I—I asked you if you wanted the extra ticket to—"

His eyes widened as he realized where this was going. “Wait, wait. That was supposed to be flirting?”

"Yeah!?" you exclaimed, so exasperated it almost sounded like a question. "Honey, what else did you think it was?"

"I thought you were being polite! And I— I definitely flirted back," he promised, clearly going through that memory inside his head as he spoke.

"Sweetie, when?"

"You know, when I said there was someone I'd like to go with?" He stressed on the word someone far too much, waiting, hoping you would catch his drift. You finally did, after 10 really long seconds.

"Me? You meant you'd want to go with me?" you asked, still incredulous at what he had implied.

"Uh-huh!? Honey, who else—"

"Spencer, Oh my god, I thought you were telling me you had a girlfriend."

"...Oh."

You both sat there for a moment, letting that truth settle between you like dust in late-afternoon light. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Wow. Can’t believe we missed out on years.”

“I know,” he said, his voice just above a whisper, eyes trained on the space between you, like he was watching the shape of time itself. “We're idiots, aren't we?”

"Possibly, but at least we're idiots together now," you responded, leaning further into him, leaving no more space between you, if that was even possible with how close you were sitting in the first place.

"Agreed. If anything, I think our love makes me a better person. Remember when I boiled that egg last week?"

"That was really big. I'm proud of you," you affirmed, your voice sincere.

"Crazy how much hasn't changed, though."

"What do you mean?" you asked, head tilting to look at him. His eyes were already on you, fond, like he was enamoured with you. Like he was going to tell you he loved you, and even after you had already heard it a hundred times by then, it still made you nervous.

"You still don't double-check the mail, even after I specifically—"

Another throw pillow found him, this time directly across his face, muffling the rest of his declaration. He laughed in response to that yet again, smug bastard that he is. You feigned offence at that and attempted to push him off of you, and sat a couple of feet away from him, hands crossed across your chest, face neutral.

But he knew what you were expecting to hear. He also knew that he didn't have to say it loud for you to know. It went without saying how much you loved each other. With every word you ever exchanged, every sentence ever spoken, the unspoken part? The subtext? It was always there. I love you.

He sensed that he had to make it up to you now. He also knew that you weren't really mad, probably loving the banter just as much as he was. Still, he always enjoyed making it up to you way more than he'd ever care to admit, so if it meant he had to come up with an elaborate ruse to rile you up first and then pretend to ask for your forgiveness, then so be it. His arms were around you in record time.

Bonus— a flashback: how our idiots actually met

You were grasping the tickets tight. There had been an oversight. On your part, mostly (entirely, if we're being honest), but you had to fix it as soon as you can, nonetheless. The tickets in your hand did not belong to you. And the longer you were holding them, the more it started to feel like they were burning a hole in your hand. You had to give it to the whoever was expecting it, apologize, and get out of their face before you started sensing their judgement. The tickets belonged to one Spencer Reid. Who the hell was Spencer Reid?

A small part of you wanted to get to know him immediately. You don’t find a lot of federal agents who take Halloween seriously, let alone someone willing to spend Halloween weekend at Phantasmagoria. Someone with that good of a taste? Sign me up, you thought.

Your eyes scanned the bullpen of the BAU, searching for any face that might look like it belonged to a “Spencer Reid.” You didn’t know what he looked like. But there was a tall, lanky guy— glasses, brown hair, cardigan layered over a dress shirt, tie slightly askew, gun holster hanging off his waist like it had no business being there. (Is that even allowed?) He was holding a cup of coffee and making his way toward a desk.

Unfortunately, the first thought your caveman brain was able to come up with was— cute. Nope. You were on a mission. You had to focus. Focus, damn it. You figured, if this nice, fine (really fine) and distinguished gentleman, whoever he was, wasn't Spencer Reid, at the very least, he looked approachable and helpful enough to point you in the right direction. Personally, you didn't want haphazard gun holster guy to be Spencer Reid. Hell of a first impression you'd be making, if that were the case.

“Hi! Sorry— um, where can I find Spencer Reid?”

He paused, blinking. “Hmm? That would be me.”

Well, shit.

“Oh? That—It, uh. You?” Brilliant. Very eloquent today, evidently.

“Uh-huh,” he nodded, a little amused.

You nodded like that would help shake your embarrassment off. Be normal, you thought. You're a normal person. Words are easy. Speak. Say things.

“Right. Cool. Hi. I’m Sex Crimes. I mean— I work Sex Crimes. The division. Of the FBI. I don’t— I don’t go around committing sex crimes around town. You already knew that. Obviously. Why am I explaining this?” Oh, sweet Jesus.

He was staring politely now, wide-eyed and politely stunned.

“Anyway!” you barreled on, desperate to claw back whatever dignity you had left, if any. “Lester, the mail guy, yeah, he came in today with this orange envelope? With the pumpkins on it? I assumed they were my Phantasmagoria tickets, so I just took them. To be fair, he tried to, um, stop me, but I was sort of way too excited to listen, and it wasn’t until I got back that I remembered I’d asked for mine to be delivered to my house, not here. So then I looked at the envelope— which, yeah, is what I probably should’ve done in the first place—and surprise surprise, they didn’t have my name on them. They had yours.”

You shoved the envelope into his hands like it might bite you if you held onto it any longer. “So yeah. Sorry. These are yours, is what I am trying to say with way too many words than necessary. I took them by accident. Please take them away from me. Thank you.”

You were looking down at the ground, waiting for it to open up and swallow you whole. The seconds of silence that followed your very passionate ramble were not helping. Any time now, ground. His voice snapped you right back into reality.

“Firstly,” he said, smiling, “thank you. Seriously. And secondly, you don’t get a lot of FBI crowd at Phantasmagoria.”

He glanced down at the envelope. “You said tickets? Plural?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I booked them in August, thinking I’d go with my boyfriend. And, well, come October… I am yet to find him. August me was a little too optimistic.” Exactly why you trauma dumped about your love life to this stranger, you may never know. But he didn't seem to mind all too much, so yeah, what do you know?

He smiled again, warmer this time. It made your stomach flip in a way you did not have time to examine. NO. Nuh-uh. You promised yourself no workplace crushes, and you meant it. Did you mean it? In retrospect, maybe you weren't all that serious. You could make an exception, right? For him? Oh, absolutely. Well, that was a quick change of heart.

“But now that you mention it,” you continued, “there’s an extra ticket. I don’t really need it. So, if you know anyone who might want to go with you…” Smooth. Real subtle. Oh, yeah. Asking him if he's single? You were so smart, you should've been an FBI agent or something. You should've gotten a raise.

“Well, actually…” he started, almost sheepish. “There is someone I’d love to go with. But I have a feeling she already has a ticket.”

Of course, Halloween Jesus wasn't single, you thought. He was too good to be true, right? Your sweet, foolishly sweet brain, interpreted his advance as— Oh, he's taken. Well, couldn't blame a girl for trying (you would later be upset about this for a while).

“Oh. Right. Okay. Well, if there’s anyone else who might need a ticket, I’m two floors down.” You offered a tight smile and turned to leave before you could make it worse. His face contorted in confusion, a hint of disappointment flickered across too, before he quickly recovered.

“Hey— Sex Crimes?”

You turned.

“You got a name?”

a/n: this is all so how i met your mother to me hence the song, in this house we stan idiot4idiot romance, we ♥️ imbeciles, hope you liked it lol<3333