#I keep those little ideas just in case they develop

[yunhoszn]

to hell with it

pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader word count 5k genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry

summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.

more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!

@atzhouse

“shit.”

the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.

it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now. 

you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate. 

and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…

“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver. 

your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart. 

the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)

you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)

he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest. 

but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.  

“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.

“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”

the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.) 

not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call. 

Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof. 

“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again. 

Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present. 

“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background. 

No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed. 

“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”

he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional. 

this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—

fuck.

you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational. 

This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated. 

maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush. 

you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.

wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.

before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.

”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.

”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”

wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.

Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.

“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”

just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?

“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.

”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.

”this is—“

”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”

you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?

”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“

”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”

you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.

”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“

”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.

batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.

wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest. 

your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away. 

If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.

it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.

“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”

the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand. 

he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there. 

“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.) 

“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”

“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”

“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck. 

“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”

you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it. 

a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in. 

but enough is enough. 

placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for. 

you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.

your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well. 

his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair. 

you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling. 

he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you. 

wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him. 

your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind. 

“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“

“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right. 

“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”

the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell. 

his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”

it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)

“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”

you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.

wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely. 

the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.

with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.

you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.

”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”

at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.

”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.

”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”

“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.

you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”

he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”

your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”

”goodnight!”

her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.

“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”

if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason. 

but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest. 

your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of. 

having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”

he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time. 

you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated. 

wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently. 

the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm. 

as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.

“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.

”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face. 

“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”

wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.

”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”

you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways. 

at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[unrelatedsideblog]

I find it a very funny scenario in which Sanji mutates(?) later in life and 124-ji would be like "Finally everything is as it should be. We can be real brothers.", but Sanji continues to fucking resent them lol

And they would be kinda confused because they would remember when they were young, before everything started to go off the scale, Sanji was so kind to them? and loving? little sunshine? so vulnerable? And that was good, brotherly, even if he wasn't the way he should be, but now that he's fixed and he's not like that anymore? He kinda avoids them? Doesn't want to spend time together? Curses on them not in playing/teasing way, they suppose??

They presume that this is not how real brothers should behave towards each other. Shouldn't this be fixed too?

(*Made with LateBloomer!Sanji in mind but may work with "canon" I guess)

[daegall]

☆ tiny mishap

➷ in which your very protective boyfriend interrogates you about a certain wound you have

pairing: (opla!)bf!zoro x reader

genre: fluff, slight crack, established relationship!AU

warnings: injuries, booze, mentions of self harm (it is assumed, but false) based off opla!zoro, but has chopper bc chopper <3

word count: 1.5k words

a/n: to my nct audience; LOL SORRY IF THIS CAME UP IN UR FEED AND YOU GOT CONFUSED 😇🙏 currently obssesed over one piece live action dude i physically cannot explain how much i love all the characters :( (esp koby and nami's character development!!!) anw ive been having a major zoro brainrot so :) enjoy!!!

You grumble and keep a hand to your cheek, shoulders slumped and sore, as you walk into the kitchen, in search of someone specific.

Chopper, your trusty nurse and adorable friend, of course. Who else would heal the cut on your face and bruises on your arm?

Hearing a little action going on in the kitchen, you can only assume is your captain Luffy, or Usopp, as they both are food lovers, after all.

"Hey, have you guys seen Chopper anywhe–"

However, once you make it inside the kitchen, you are shocked to see the person you've been avoiding this whole morning.

"Oh," You breathe out. A frown curls on your lips once you realize he's got a bottle of booze wrapped in his hand, bringing it up to his lips as he turns to gaze at you. "Damn it, I thought I hid those..."

Your boyfriend's got a nasty habit of drinking alcohol. Anytime he wanted. Bored? He's either napping, training, or drinking his stupid booze. Tired? Booze. Feeling happy or sad? Stupid booze.

You've been trying to stop him before he becomes 80% alcohol, but he's better at finding it than you are at hiding it.

"Morning," Zoro mumbles, as he puts his bottle down. "tried to hide these just like you've been hiding from me me all day?"

At his words, you look away, taking a step away from him. "I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Why are you holding your cheek?"

When your eyes flicker back at him, he's got a worried frown, a crease in his eyebrows some might mistake as anger, but you recognize it as care.

He cares for you, and you hate how soft it makes you.

"It's just... cold," You attempt to lie, rubbing at your skin. Bad idea, as you fail to stop your hiss of pain.

Zoro instantly walks towards you, his hands releasing his bottle of beer, and his swords, to raise it to your face. One hand hovers over your uncovered cheek, the other wrapping it's fingers around your wrist gently.

"Show me."

You still, not knowing what to do. You know you're gonna succumb to him anyway, so there's no need to put up a fight, but you can't help how stubborn you are.

So, you don't step away, but you don't lower your hand anyway.

"Y/N," Zoro says sternly.

"It's nothing, I swear, just a tiny... mishap,"

"Then show me,"

Despite his voice being so harsh, and his gaze just as much, you know this is all because he loves you. You can tell by the way his thumb softly runs over your skin, you can tell by the way he steps closer to observe further, you can tell by the way he doesn't force you. He trusts that you trust him, and you hate how it works on you every time.

"Do you at least have any bandages?"

With your tiny voice and small gaze up at him, Zoro knows you've given in.

"You know I always do,"

It's true. With the amount of fights he gets himself into, he has at least 2 packs on him. Also in case you scrape your knee or get a papercut. It's the small things he does that assure you he cares.

He finally releases his grip on your wrist, walking back to pick up his bottle of beer on the counter. Before he can even take a sip, however, you hop onto the counter in front of him, and snatch the bottle, shaking your head.

"It's 10 in the morning." You remind him sternly.

Zoro can't stop the tiny smirk on the corner of his lips, huffing. "Yeah, yeah,"

You know he loves you, he knows you love him too.

It's the tiny things like this that prove it. The way you try to make him a better man, the way you'd instantly take care of his wounds yourself, the way you shush the other crewmembers when he's napping. And unlike you, he loves how soft it makes him.

"Take your hand off now."

Though you have a disapproving look, and grimace, you comply, slowly lowering your hand from your cheek.

You look down at your lap once you hear his sharp intake of air, playing with the hem of your shirt.

Zoro can't take his eyes off the cut on your cheekbone, his heart sinking impossibly quickly, cracking when he sees a bruise right under the cut. "What the fuck happened?"

"It just... happened," You mumble weakly.

"Who did it?" Zoro'a voice, once again, is harsh, but you hear the shake in it, worry.

"...I did,"

You know he takes it the wrong way the next second, considering how you answered him, you would have skipped to conclusions yourself.

"You're harming yourself?!"

You interject immediently, reaching out to grab his wrist, "No! God, no, Zoro,"

You haven't said his name until now, and it still manages to send a wave of warmth over his body. The way you are so quick to reassure him, the way you lean into his warmth, how your skin rubs against his comfortingly, it all warms him inside. He's only ever felt warm with you, which is why he loves you so much.

"Then how did it happen?"

At his question, you frown again, but it's less serious than before, it's more of a pout, if anything.

"It's stupid."

"It's not stupid if you're getting hurt."

"You'll think it's stupid,"

"Our captain is Luffy, whatever you do can't be that bad."

Zoro waits patiently for your answer, taking out the band-aid from his pocket. His eyes shine with anticipation, no longer (that) angry, and you're glad he isn't as worried anymore. You hate making him worry.

"I..." You hesitate for a second, tearing your eyes away from his gaze. You decide that it doesn't matter if he laughs or not in the end, because he won't ever see you differently. He's your Zoro, and he'll always be by your side.

"You know how there was a storm last night?"

Your boyfriend's eyebrows raise at your words, and he nods silently, gently sticking the band-aid to your cheek. He blows on it, making sure it's secure.

"I fell off my bed and face planted onto the floor,"

At your words, Zoro completely freezes, his fingers grazing the skin of your jaw. You can't tell what he's quite feeling, as one, you didn't have the pride to look at him for more than 2 seconds, and two, he remains as emotionless as a rock.

"...Zoro?"

Suddenly, there's a sound. A strange sound that comes from him. It's unfamiliar, but... strangely warm. You come to a conclusion that Roronoa Zoro, your cold, stoic boyfriend, is laughing. He's laughing with his whole heart, eyes squinting as he finally smiles, the prettiest, most precious smile you have ever seen.

Zoro's forehead lands on your shoulder as he continues, an arm wrapping around your waist to secure you in place.

"Roronoa Zoro are you laughing at me?"

"N-no–" He snorts. How dare he lie to your face.

Although he did flat out lie to your face, it's endearing. His laugh and smile is new, comforting, and you swear your could listen to it your whole life and not complain.

"I-I'm not laughing at you, I promise!"

"Doesn't look like it," You huff out with a grumble, facing away from, attempting to hide the shy smile curling on your lips.

"N-nooo!" Zoro chuckles. A sudden warm feeling envelops not only your chin, but your whole entire being, as Zoro tilts your head back to him, your heart almost stopping at the sight of his charming grin.

He's grinning.

And it's all because of you.

You have to admit, you're proud of yourself.

"You're just... too adorable,"

"Roronoa Zoro, you're flirting with me now?!"

"Shhh!" He shushes you, though its playful, and loving, placing his index finger on your smiley lips.

You two sit there, alone and together, for minutes on end, unable to let the moment become a memory. Zoro resumes with patching you up, caressing the bruises on your arm comfortingly.

It's moments like these that make you realize just how special you are to Zoro, and just how special he is to you, because who else on planet earth would be able to get him to laugh thay hard, grin that much, and love you that much?

You'd crash into the floor a million times if it meant seeing Zoro's smile, you'd admit to any embarassing moment, if it meant having to hear his melodious laugh.

"You know," He breaks the peaceful silence, causing you to grow concious of how you were staring at him. To be fair, the both of you don't mind staring at each other. What's there to hide? You love him, he loves you.

"you could come nap with me if you want. I could keep you anchored to the bed so you don't fall out again."

Considering how much he valued his hours of sleep, and alone time, this is something big he asks you of, and you feel a sweet warmth stirr in you.

This time, you don't grow shy, or snarl at his sarcastic remark. Rather, you grin at your lover, reaching up to pinch his chin playfully. "You'd like that, huh?"

"Don't say you wouldn't,"

"And if I drag you down with me?"

Zoro shrugs, ruffling your bed-head. "We'll both get to laugh and patch each other up."

You reach up to peck his cheek, before hopping off the counter. "I'll take you up on that someday,"

[angelltheninth]

The Lion King's Fangs

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, hurt/comfort, protectiveness, getting into fights, soothing kisses, growling, confessions, threats

Word count: 2.4k

Flufftober Day 19: Keeping Someone Safe

A/N: This flufftober prompt really got me going, Leona is perfect for it.

Being part of Leona’s Pride was full of positives. Maybe not many would think so because of his usually rude and holier then though attitude but it was all just surface level things. No many bothered to try to look underneath so of course they had the wrong idea of him. He was loud when he wanted to be, he could dominate room with just a glance and he held himself in very high regard due to his royal status. You hate to admit it but you were one of those people who thought he was just an asshole. That was way before you were placed in the same Dorm and got to know your Dorm Leader better, before the rumors started too.

Leona was used to rumors about him, he’d been used to them since he was little. They used to bother him a lot more back then, but now he couldn’t care less about the things people say about him. They could think what they want, in fact if they’re scared of him they’re more likely to leave him alone.

On the other hand there was you, who was never involved in much gossip. You would hear things about the Dorm Leaders just like everyone else, you knew which ones were more or less approachable, Leona was not on the approachable list so you stayed in your own lane. When you joined the Savanaclaw dorms you noticed a lot more people talking about you, well you and one other person: Leona Kingscholar.

The rumors didn’t bother you much at first, but they did allow you to see a whole other side of Leona that you hadn’t seen before. The more people talked the closer he stuck to you, it was both a blessing and a curse in your case.

Blessing because you got to see that he wasn’t actually all that scary to be around. He was a bit of a softie underneath all that rough exterior, but that part of him was very well hidden, mostly coming out when he’d ask you to keep watch while he took a nap. Leona talked in his sleep a lot, he talked about you too, his mumbling made your heart skip a beat more than once in a day.

“She’s walking out of the gardens again with that blush on her face. They must be-”

“Hey! Quiet down, you how much he hates the rumors. Kingscholar clearly doesn’t want anyone knowing about it if they have to sneak around.” Another student commented to the first, both trying not to look in your direction and failing.

“Not a very well kept secret.” The two may have thought you weren’t able to hear them but you heard every word they said. Some were quieter than the others but eventually every rumor made it’s way to you and Leona.

Worst part was that they weren’t true at all. There was nothing happening between the two of you except for friendship. You helped him out with exams sometimes but that was it. Or more accurately you helped him stay focused on studying for them. Leona’s room was quite a way from yours so he would always walk you back, often late at night, which didn’t make the gossip any better.

You tried not to let it get to you and go about your day as usual.

Classes were usually the calmest period for you, it was what came after that was the problem. Leona liked to wait for you along with Ruggie and Jack, and then walk back to the dorms. “Have a good time in class today?” Ruggie was the most talkative of the group, walking backwards, hands behind his head, not a care in the world.

“It was fine. I’m more worried about next week.”

“Ugh. Exams. Don’t remind me.” Leona yawned already feeling boredom setting in.

Jack was the furthest up front, only his ears showing he was listening. He was also the one who took studies seriously, other then you so he appreciated having the extra helping hand. “You’re the one who should be reminded the most.”

“Huh? What was that? Think I’m dumb? I don’t need anyone’s help to pass.” Leona shouted all too loud, all eyes on the four of you.

“Bet he wants a helping hand from her.” A guy commented to one of his buddies while the other made a crude pumping gesture. Both Ruggie and Jack scoffed at their behavior and looked at you. You tried not to pay them any mind, but it was getting increasingly more difficult the more vulgar their words became. Leona’s ears twitched uncomfortably at them.

Yes, you did help Leona study, but that was all that ever happened, studying. The fact that he would pat you on the head after or buy you lunch the next day were completely separate issues, even his flirting was never that serious, he enjoyed teasing you like a cat would a mouse. Clearly that wasn’t how everyone else saw it.

Leona looked down at you, at your red ears and the way you chewed on your bottom lip and gripped your bag, he knew you didn’t find any of it funny, and neither did he. Teasing was fine, but there are lines that should not be crossed with his Pride, this was one of them.

“Wanna say that again?” Leona stopped abruptly and turned to glare at the group.

“Leona, it’s fine, it doesn’t- let’s just leave.” You whispered to him as you grabbed the bottom of his uniform. This was gonna make more of a scene then it already was. With the kind of reputation Leona already had, that he got into fights, verbal and physical, he didn’t need to add anything to his record, and neither did you. “They’re just talking.”

“They’re being disrespectful. You, tough guy, come over and apologize!” No one insulted his friends, no matter what that was the one rule he always upheld.

The group shrugged among themselves and one of them approached, “Oh I think the little lady can speak for herself hm? We’re just saying what she’s thinking. Everyone here knows that the only reason she joined the dorm was cause of you. Isn’t that right?” He all but leered at you while he spoke. Everyone could tell this was about to get ugly so they stayed away as much as they could, not wanting to get involved in the conflict.

Not that you blamed them, if you weren’t Leona’s friend you’d stay away too.

You could hear him growling, clenching his teeth, his fists shaking with anger at the assumptions made. “Leona, leave him, come on man, he’s not worth the time.” Jack put his hand on Leona’s shoulder while Ruggie closed in on you, standing protectively behind you.

“Oh come on, his Highness can finally stop chasing, he’s finally got someone chasing after him. Must feel nice for you.” Now even the guy’s friends looked weary and Leona, he looked ready to kill.

“Motherfucker.” Leona started marching toward him, fists clenched at his sides, “I’m gonna- ow! Fuck!” You acted as fast as you could, pulled him back by the first thing you could grab: his tail, his weak spot. “Ouch!” Leona snatched it back from you with a growl.

“Or maybe she’s the one who as you wrapped around her finger. And here everyone thought you only like her cause she does whatever you tell her to like a puppy.” A hard fist connected to his face before you could hold Leona back, in fact judging by the deep green fury in his eyes, nothing could hold him back now.

Except for the Principal who broke up the fight almost as soon as it started but Leona still managed to get a few punches in. Upon examining the situation it was determined that he was indeed provoked, but both parties had detention for the rest of the month. This was a better outcome then being suspended, and it was likely done because Leona had already failed this exam quite a few times before.

“You shouldn’t have fought with that guy. He was being a jerk, it’s not I haven’t dealt with those before. Besides it got you in trouble with the Principal too.” Leona didn’t try to shoo you away when you brought the first aid kit over and started wrapping up his hands. His had a bruise too, right next to his lip, but it wasn’t that bad compared to the other guy. “But… thank you, for standing up for me. You didn’t have to get violent though.”

“It was the only language guys like him understand. Once they’ve been put in their place they’re quiet. I made an example out of him, that’s all there is to it. He deserved it anyways, for all the shit he was saying about you. Has this been a thing? You know, for a while now?” Your hands paused as they tied the final knot on the bandages. You didn’t look at him but could feel the heat of his emerald eyes on you. “So it has. How long? Who was it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because they don’t know what they’re talking about.” It was a lousy excuse but it didn’t seem like something that you needed to bother him with, “It’s just rumors Leona. They’ll pass as soon as they find something else to talk about.”

He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together, immediately hissing at the stinging bruise, “You should have told me. I don’t like you getting treated like that. You’re in my Dorm now, so your well-being is my responsibility too. I may not be next in line to be King but I know how to take care of my own.” Leona’s features softened as he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, “Next time, when something like that happens, you come straight to me okay? That’s an order.”

It was things like this that blurred the lines between friendship and something more between you two. You couldn’t blame others for thinking you were his girlfriend when he sometimes acted very much like a boyfriend would, it confused you a great deal.

“Your heart’s racing.” He grinned a sharp toothy smile, “Do you like it when I act protective over you?”

“Huh? Where did that come from?! What? Why are you- don’t change the subject now!” You could feel your face getting hot at his words and actions. You were used to Leona’s teasing but it never came directly after something as adrenaline inducing as a fight.

“I heard the rumors too you know, that we’re dating or sleeping together or whatever. Never figured it’d be taken to this degree, usually when people gossip about me they shut the fuck up the moment they notice me. This was the first time someone’s had the balls to throw words like that in my face. I could have taken that if that was all there was. But not when he insulted you too. You’re… important to me.” Leona moved his lips from your hand to your wrist where he pressed another kiss. “I like it when we spend time together, I don’t want to stop hanging out with you because of silly rumors.”

“Oh.” If possible your face grew even hotter at his protective stance and the admission that he enjoyed your company a lot. It almost sounded like a… “Is this a confession? Is the great Leona Kingscholar confessing?”

His ears flickered back and forth, eyes widening. He wasn’t about to be backed into a corner by you, teased by you, he was supposed to be the cool one here. He was the one who got into a fight for you, opened up to you, and now he’s the one getting teased? Not on his watch. Leona grabbed you with both hands, your wrists secured in his grip and pulling you forward and making you stumble, almost colliding with him, “What if I was?” His half-hooded eyes drifted down to your lips, his parting with a smirk, approaching your shaking ones. “Would you want to do a different kind of weekend study session? I can be a great teacher for certain things.” With inches left between your lips you had moments to decide the outcome.

This might be your only chance to kiss him, even if it was a joke on his part, why not take it?

You leaned forward, closing those last inches between you and pressed your lips against his. He wasn’t surprised at all, which meant that his words earlier weren’t a joke either. And the reason he reacted the way he had was… “You like me?”

“Stupid. Think I get into a fist fight just like that? I’m not a complete brute.” His hands dropped from your wrists to the small of your back where he locked his fingers together.

“But the way you spoke earlier…”

“I care about my friends. But I don’t get into fights for them. Maybe I would if it ever came to that, but you’re the only one… fuck… I feel like an idiot having to explain this. This is why I don’t like talking to people about this sensitive shit.” This sensitive shit being his emotions of course.

You knew how guarded he was, and how easy it was to make him close in on himself so you took his approach instead, “Okay. Then we won’t.” Leona perked up almost right away and started leaning in for the second kiss, “Until you pass the exams next week. That should give you plenty of time to sort things out.” You wiggled out of his arms while he stood there stunned, eyes wide and mouth hanging open at being… rejected? Postponed?

“What?” It wasn’t often that Leona was confused by someone’s behavior, this was one of those moments, “Don’t you like me back?”

“Yes, I do. But I’m not gonna… do things with you until I know where you stand on this. If I do then… what did you get into that fight for? It would prove them right.” As hard as it was to go on with the scheduled study session you had to power though it. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not gonna make me kiss you.”

Leona tilted his head to show you the bruise on the side of his lips, “Sure about that? I took this punch for you.” He wiggled his eyebrows a little but got nowhere because you turned around fast, ignoring the rapid heartbeat in your chest and how much you did in fact want to kiss him. You were also reminded of why you thought he was a pompous jerk. But alas he was a lovable pompous jerk.

[qlossytbh]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 You and Spencer seem to have a lot more in common than you let yourself on to.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 trauma dumping between reader and Spencer, the two of them have fucked up childhoods, sexual tension (?), mentions of schizophrenia, mentions of depression and attempted suicide, reader has a fucked up dark humor

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.3k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 this was honestly just an idea that came to me while watching season one finale, he’s just so *chefs kiss* and I wanna give him a hug. BY THE WAY IM ONLY ON SEASON TWO SO DONT SPOIL and i’m still trying to develop the characters in my head. also i feel like it’d be super funny for season 1/2 Spencer to be with someone with a super sarcastic and twisted humor

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was an uncomfortable silence and you acknowledged how the events of that day personally affected Spencer. It was like the air was thick and both of you wanted to speak but didn't think of doing so. You glanced over at Reid from your spot next to one of the file drawers, wondering how he was holding up. You saw him shifting in his chair as his eyes scanned through a few of his own files that sat comfortably in his lap.

It had never even occurred to you that Spencer's mother had been schizophrenic, much less that she had been put into the Bennington sanitarium. Earlier, while she was helping out with the case, things seemed normal. Sure, she was a little reserved and seemed constantly on edge, but you thought that was just another one of her odd traits. But when you and Morgan were covering for Reid as he practically jumped head first into a room with a bombed UnSub that was keeping Rebecca Bryant hostage, he briefly started mentioning all these connection with his mother and then stated very explicitly that she was borderline schizophrenic. You looked at Morgan in shock and nearly dropped your gun in shock.

Spencer was one of those people who had always been a closed book with himself, because god knows he loves to talk about other things, but those things never associated with himself. It was like a distraction he put up for people to latch onto so he avoided people asking about him. Since you and Spencer had become friends he'd never really talked much about himself and his personal life. He always preferred hearing you ramble about some random personal drama you were dealing with. He even found it endearing how you'd arrive at work and immediately started venting rapidly and furiously about something as stupid as how you hated slow drivers or how people were waking slow on the sidewalk.

Thats probably why everyone always pried and teased when it came to your dynamic. The two of you complimented eachother perfectly, at least that's what everyone would always tell you.

Spencer could be a little more uptight and calculated, struggling to let loose while you however, usually took most things with humor. Sometimes your humor could even be a little dark and twisted. You joked around— sarcasm being your main powerhouse of humor, which unsurprisingly was very hard for Spencer to catch onto. You usually found yourself regularly explaining to Spencer that you were only joking, it happened regularly. You only found it endearing though and somewhat entertaining.

But that's exactly why you and Spencer worked so well. Spencer's grounded way of thinking helped you see things in a different light and he brought the best out of your critical thinking. He worked as a real life anchor and you helped Spencer get out of his overthinking, grounding him and helping him see things with a little more light. What you lacked he recompensted, and what he lacked you recompensated. The two of you filled the gaps the other was missing. A real power dynamic as Morgan would frequently quote.

But in situations like now, you truly wondered how much he could be potentially hiding about himself. You felt like you knew him so well but simultaneously not at all. That's what drawed you in so badly. Spencer had so much in his head and all you wanted to do was insert yourself into it and dissect every and any thought possible. You truly wanted to understand his way of thinking.

You shifted on your heels, sneaking glances at him trying to figure out how you could potentially check if he was okay. Because by the way his knee bounced nervously and the familiar furrow in his brow, you knew his head was racing uncontrollably. You let out a heavy sigh and he turned to you which only caused you to nervously look away and back down at the file in your hands. Suddenly you were the one bouncing your leg nervously.

There was this awkward wall between the two of you that you needed to break through, so without another thought, you set the file down and made your way to the couch he was sitting on. He sat on the left side, allowing his elbow to rest on the arm rest while he scanned his eyes through the papers that sat in his lap.

Without a single word, you sat on the farther right side and faced him. Your eyes bored into the side of his face and after a few seconds, he became nervous with the realization that your piercing gaze was on him. You leaned back, and kicked his foot gently in an attempt to grab his attention. He turned to you, humming silently but still clueless to your intentions.

You narrowed your eyes as him "What's going on in that pretty big brain of yours?"

He fumbled slightly with the papers in his lap as he opened his mouth to answer bu then clamped it shut. "Uh, I'm reading through the various files about the case and how we—" He started, gesturing to the papers

You were quick to cut him off. "No— I mean, how are you?"

He looked at you severely confused, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as he opened his mouth to speak. "I'm....good?"

"Good..!" You continued, suddenly feeling your cheeks grow hot. Well this was severely embarrassing "Great, yeah that's— uhm, great."

There was a silence, again. You looked down at your hands and nervously played with the rings that sat comfortably on your fingers. It dawned over you that this was harder than you thought it was going to be. You didn't know how to approach a delicate topic with him, all you knew what to do was to joke around, so this was becoming harder for you than you had anticipated. When you looked up at him, he was looking down at you and your blazing hot cheeks.

"You're blushing," He stated bluntly, scanning your face. Your eyes suddenly blew wide and you felt yourself choke on air. "Which either means you're feeling embarrassed, or nervous, or—"

"What? No!—" You groaned and pointed a finger at him. "Don't go all profiler on me. I'm the one who asked you how you were doing!"

"But didn't I specify that I was doing good...?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused. You deadpanned at your best friend and he suddenly grew small under your gaze. You dragged a hand across your face with a groan.

"Spence, I'm not talking about that.." You looked him in the eye and took a breath. "Are you ok?"

Spencer definitely took his time answering. You sat there, looking somewhat stupid waiting for his answer as all he did was scan your eyes, looking for— something..? Spencer was confused and he wanted to get to where you were going with this conversation but he genuinely had no clue as to what you were trying to get at. Realizing he wasn't catching on, you continued.

"You know for someone as smart as you, you sure are slow," You shoved his foot once again with your own and smiled at him. "I didn't know about your mother."

"Oh.." He then slumped with realization as a weak smile reached his face. He looked down at his files and fumbled with the corner of one of them, folding and unfolding it gently.

"Yeah, 'oh'," You teased. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Spencer trusted you more than life itself, he knew he could tell you but right now he felt this piercing anxiety. Vocally admitting something that he may have some underlying issues with, letting you know that, terrified him. This was hard for you as well. You cared about him and you didn't know if he was or wasn't comfortable sharing this with you. But guessing on his usual demeanor, you'd take a wild guess that opening up isn't his favorite thing to do. You couldn't blame him though, you had the same problem. He looked up at you and just seeing you there waiting for him patiently to tell you anything was enough to make him crack.

"Schizophrenia is a life long illness," He said. "Her meds keep her stable but she still has bad days at the sanitarium."

You nodded your head softly as all your attention was suddenly directed to him and only him. "I don't remember much about when she was first admitted but I do remember that she used to always read me these poems."

You smiled to yourself, and he followed suit. When his gaze fell from you to the wall in front of him, you opened your mouth to speak. "How come we never realized you ever leaving to go see her or visit her?"

"Because I didn't," He admits. His brows furrowed faintly. You sat in silence, pushing for him to continue speaking. "I don't."

"How come?" You asked, lookin down and picking at your nails. He shook his head and pulled his lips into a straight line. He didn't really have an answer to what you had just asked. His shoulders shrugged slightly as he seemed at a loss of words.

"I think it's because in some weird, meticulous, twisted way I see myself when I see her." He stated "I see myself ending up just like her."

"I write her letters everyday, just so I don't feel— you know, guilty, but knowing that schizophrenia is genetically passed on—" He shook his head. Your brows furrowed in anguish as you looked back up at Spencer. He never told you.

"Spence," You said, shaking your head. "I didn't know."

He looked at you and got nervous with the way you were looking at him so he brushed it off almost immediately. "Y-You had no way of doing so,"

"I mean yeah, I guess.." You sighed, brows furrowed. A silence then dwelled upon you and you found your head racing at a thousand miles per hour. Spencer looked over at you after a few minutes and saw your gaze glued onto the ground. Because when he noticed how the corner of your lips were tensely tugged to the side and the soft crinkle in your brows, he knew your head was racing uncontrollably.

"What's going on in that pretty brain of yours?" He said pursing his lips as he hugged his arms and nudged your foot and causing you to snap out of your trance. You suddenly felt yourself grow nervous which is something you rarely did and much less with Spencer, but his borderline flirtatious tone and the way he had quoted your previous words, caught you off guard. Your favorite thing was when Spencer teased because it was so out of character of him and it rarely happened.

Not entirely ready to talk about what had awoken in your head, you decided to joke around. "Oh okay, now I get it. You can have a pretty big brain but only I can have a pretty one?"

You could physically see how he rescanned and revisited your conversation and started growing nervous at the possibility that he had offended you in any way. "You calling me stupid, Dr. Reid?"

"What? No! I meant—" He shook his hands franticly, turning his body to face you, face growing red. "That you can uhm, also have—"

You let out a soft laugh and he stopped immediately. "Your joking, of course.."

He felt that his collar was suddenly growing tight. The way you were speaking to him was enough to cause him to melt into putty at your feet and when your laughter filled the room he could feel everything stop. His cheeks grew hot and were practically burning to the touch.

You leaned forward and pulled at the end his tie. "Now look who's blushing."

You let him go with a laugh, and fell back shaking your head as Spencer's breaths grew even shallower and he became even more nervous. You grossed your arms over your chest and looked at the floor.

"You're not alone you know," Your words had caught Spencer off guard as he tried to recompose himself. He looked over at you but your gaze remained on the floor.

"What—" He tried saying but when his voice came out all shaky, he quickly cleared it out as embarrassment seeped in. "What do you mean?"

"You're not alone with all the— fucked up family melodrama crap," You shrugged and spared him a slight glance. "I get it."

Spencer watched you closely and realized, due to your body language, the way your face was all scrunched up and basically just knowing you, that something was up and you were hiding something. He waited intently, expecting you to go on further. You brought one of your knees to your chest while the other hung off the couch. "I remember when my sister was admitted to a psych ward, I had this huge inner turmoil, kind of similar to what you telling me now with your mom."

Spencer being taken a back was an understatement. You'd always been so put together, so happy most of the time and you've always been the brightest light in the room. You also never showed any signs of having this going on in your personal life that he almost felt stupid for not seeing it, but you knew how to hide things pretty damn well. It was crazy how someone could be going through the worse and can hide it so well.

"She was severely depressed, she tried to end her life like, four times?" You rested your chin on your knee and laughed softly. "Lost count after a while."

"That's not funny—" Your face fell in realization that it wasn't a topic or time to joke around. He smiled to himself, finding your dark twisted humor somewhat concerning, but also alluring.

"Anyways, the first few times didn't really take a toll on me, and I'm not sure I can say why," You paused. "Maybe I just didn't allow myself to feel because I knew that if I did, I'd fall apart and I couldn't let that happen, I didn't want anyone to see it happened and maybe if i avoided doing os, i could pretend like it never happened but the time she ended up in the hospital was scary, to say the least."

"I had called 911 and she couldn't be alone before the ambulance arrived. My mom was coming home from work so she gave me specific order to not let her out of my sight. When I tried to stop her from leaving the house, she attacked me," You took a deep breath and smiled. "Couldn't even do anything about it,"

"I think the worst part is that I was just trying to help but with the state of mind she was in, she only saw me as a threat. She'd say the most nastiest shit just to get at me," You looked over at Spencer. "Which worked, in case you were wondering."

"She got taken to the hospital and I never spoke to her again," You shrugged, pulling your lips into a straight line. "Things just fell apart after that but, I don't feel guilty about not seeing her... I think."

"I offered her help and comfort, time and time again, after every attempt, I'd always tell her that I was right here if she needed me." You looked at your hands. "I wasn't going to let her destroy me and treat me like that after I had offered to help so many times, theres a certain point where you just can't help anymore. I couldn't help her if she didn't want to be helped. I had to accept it wasn't something I could fix, as much as I wanted to."

Spencer stared in silence. You looked at him and smiled. The two of you just sat in that confusing but comforting silence, staring into each other's eyes and letting this new light you had discovered about the other settle in. There was something unfamiliar yet satisfying pooling around you two. Something about seeing someone's vulnerabilities and listening and deciding to stay around was so sacred to you. Being the comedic relief in peoples lifestyles was specifically a way of avoiding letting anyone know and see your darkest sides, but somehow Spencer gave you enough security to let that go and be fragile with him and you now felt closer to him than ever.

"Look at us," You gestured. "Bonding over deep rooted family trauma's."

He shook his head and let out a laugh that in that specific moment, was music to your ears. You looked down with a smile.

"You know," He said, making eye contact with you again. "I find it very intriguing how most people don't know what's going on in someone else's head or life until they directly tell them, no matter how close they are,"

"Here, people usually tell me their secrets all the time, so I know a lot about others" He shrugged with a smile, diverting his eyes from you once again and right into his lap. "I think it's cause they know I don't have anyone to betray them too."

This saddened you, is that really what he thought? That he had no one to go to? Before you could dwell on it, he shot you a smile from the side. "Except my mother, I tell her pretty much everything."

"I knew you were a Momma's boy," You accused. "I bet you tell her about me all the time."

You had initially been joking but Spencer smiled softly and shook his head. "I do actually,"

Your laugh slowly faded but your smile remained. He looked at you closely, scanning your every movement with nothing but fondness. You felt your pulse in your throat and without missing a single beat you scooted forward on the couch, allowing yourself to be closer to him. He swallowed thickly, before you took his hand into your own.

"I think," You started, looking at his hand in your own as your fingers carressed his knuckles softly. "People go to you because they know they can trust you, and that isn't a bad thing."

"I haven't told anyone about my sister, and I didn't tell you with the security that you wouldn't tell anyone because you don't have anyone to tell," You looked at him. "I told you because I trust and care about you, Spence."

Never before had Spencer thought that he would ever be able to confide in anyone the way he confided in you. Just like you had stated before, you and Spencer brought the best out of each other, even if that meant talking about the worst. After a little while of silence you pulled Spencers arm open.

"Scooch." You fumbled around before letting yourself fall into his side, cuddling into him as much as you could and letting his arm drape around your shoulder. You grabbed his free hand and interwinded it with yours, smiling at how perfect his hand felt in yours. You felt your face flush at the newfound proximity, but it felt too good and too natural that you didn't have it in you to overthink. Spencer could say the same as he felt his body relax into yours. After a while of the two of you basking in each other's touch and comfort, you pulled away momentarily.

"If you ever scare me as much as you scared me today when you jumped in head first to talk to the UnSub, I will make it my personal job to make your life a living hell." You warned, looking at him intensely. He rolled his eyes laughing, and pulled you back into his side.

"Yes ma'am"

[ms-demeanor]

Hi there! Firstly, wanna say a huge thank you: your blog has inspired me to become more educated about cybersecurity and nutrition, and it’s the reason my brother and I now use Firefox! I came across this article and… it seemed to raise a lot of valid points about Mozilla, but I have no idea if they are true or not since I’m not that knowledgeable about tech, and they go against everything I’ve ever heard about Firefox. Wanted to ask if you wouldn’t mind giving it a quick read, if that’s not too much trouble, and explaining why it’s false/true? If you can, ofc, I realise that is a weird request, and I promise it&: not something I’d usually ask someone. I just thought I’d ask since you’re the only sort of ‘tech’ person I can think of whom I’d trust to know stuff about this. https://digdeeper.neocities.org/articles/mozilla

So this is a great example of someone reading a ToS uncharitably and extracting the most paranoid bullshit possible.

Aside from the absolute classic "oh noes they are storing info about what devices you use" (if you use firefox logged in mozilla will collect information about what device and OS you use to connect; they do this for a lot of reasons like figuring out what stuff the bulk of their users are using but also because *they can't display on your device without that data*) I want to zoom in on this as an example:

BTW, there is one really funny thing inside the account ToS (MozArchive) that I just have to mention: "We may suspend or terminate your access to the Services at any time for any reason, including [...] our provision of the Services to you is no longer commercially viable." The fuck? If you stop bringing them profit, you're gone. They really said that! To me, this is a roundabout admission that your data is being sold. And if it's not worth much (for whatever reason), then you get kicked out.

This person is highlighting the idea that they may cut you off from services if the provision of those services is no longer commercially viable. This author is saying "FIREFOX WILL BOOT YOU WHEN YOU STOP BEING A PROFITABLE LITTLE PAYPIG FOR THEM"

But. Okay. Let's go look at that section of the ToS:

These Terms will continue to apply until ended by either you or Mozilla. You can choose to end them at any time for any reason by deleting your Mozilla account, discontinuing your use of the Services, and if applicable, unsubscribing from our emails. We may suspend or terminate your access to the Services at any time for any reason, including, but not limited to, if we reasonably believe: (i) you have violated these Terms, (ii) you create risk or possible legal exposure for us; or (iii) our provision of the Services to you is no longer commercially viable. We will make reasonable efforts to notify you by the email address associated with your Mozilla account or the next time you attempt to access the Services. In all such cases, these Terms shall terminate, including, without limitation, your license to use the Services, except that the following sections shall continue to apply: Indemnification, Disclaimer; Limitation of Liability, Miscellaneous.

Bud. This says "we are not obligated to provide services to you and we may stop providing services that cost us more money to maintain than is viable." This isn't about selling your data, this is about backwards compatibility and sunsetting projects. They don't have to keep providing access to services they're no longer developing nor bend over backwards to make sure that you can keep running a version of the browser that uses the extensions they dropped support for ten years ago.

Ugh. I got to the section where they talk about cucking for manifest3 and jesus this asshole. Manifest 3 is a defacto set of web standards that are changing because google has so much market share as a browser that if they do something everybody else has to follow or they're going to break basic functionality; if they don't make these changes eventually a shitload of websites just will not work on firefox. WAY more than currently experience this problem. Nobody is happy about manifest 3 and the fact that mozilla put out a press release about coming manifest 3 changes (that was not positive!) doesn't mean they're happy about getting dragged along by the nose; this blogger would prefer something like them refusing to adopt those standards, but all that would happen is that they'd lose more users because less shit would work on firefox browsers since people write their sites for chrome first and anything else second if at all.

This writer also gripes a lot about things like "mozilla took away this functionality for the sake of security and SURE you can change that by going into the configurations but it should be an option right in the first panel of the settings what are they really trying to hide???" and they're not trying to hide anything bud they're trying to make a functional browser with intuitive menus for people who aren't power users.

Like they want to be able to do everything they want and they want to be able to see the option in front of them at all times. It's a weird combination of "I know how to configure everything about this browser" and "if a setting is ever hidden behind a readmore it's a dark pattern and is an attack on user privacy." Like they gripe a lot about privacy and then link to a bunch of pages on mozilla where they explain their privacy settings and link to tutorials on how to hide the data that they just explained they collect.

Yeah this is someone I would walk away from in order to avoid getting into a fistfight.

"FOSS licenses are nice but they don't ensure quality" nobody said they did.

"FOSS licensed softwares don't always accept user participation in development" nobody said they did

"I can't change the actual code of firefox to remove things that I don't like don't tell me to fork it it has to be all or nothing mozilla specifically has to do what I want or it's user hostile" I can see why it would be hostile to you as a user fuck you dude this is why forks *exist* (also the "spyware" discussed is basic browser tracking stuff, the realistic necessities of how email work that make it not private by default like the PROTOCOLS are not private you can't get around that, and a lot of the stuff is opt out but improves functionality for day to day users, AND a lot of the tracking is specifically for people with logged-in accounts which are not necessary to use firefox like if you hate pocket don't use it my friend! I also hate pocket it is quite simple to never use it thanks)

"There's no justification for making the source code unavailable" my dude. https://hg.mozilla.org/mozilla-central/

"If they really cared about an open internet they'd work toward killing capitalism." Friend. I think there's very little more that a web browser could do to undermine the capitalist nature of huge chunks of the web and maintain a broad userbase than what firefox is doing.

I'm reminded of the time that I saw someone losing their shit about a linux distro that included chrome as *a* browser - not the default browser, but *a* browser.

It is an unpleasant fact that a lot of firefox's funding comes from google. That's part of why google is still the default search engine in Firefox and I read some similar articles decrying mozilla's residence firmly in Google's pocket a few years ago. I don't think there's anyone at mozilla who is genuinely pleased that their cheques are signed by google, but there are a ton of people at mozilla who are happy they can keep the lights on because getting paid by google means that they can do as much as they possibly can to create a functional browser that has a significant interest in privacy by default and that can be made *VERY* private by a dedicated user.

Anyway a lot of the stuff on this post is things like "a certificate expired five years ago and broke extensions and that means that mozilla is incompetent and hates users" or "eleven years ago there was a slapfight in the bug reporting forums between a user and a mod and the fact that the user was kicked after repeatedly being told his fix wasn't going to get made is censorship."

The big beefs at the center of this post are:

Mozilla collects data on users

Mozilla limits functionality that should be up to the users

Mozilla takes money from google

and my refutations are:

it does, and it is less than any other mainstream browser and is much much more transparent about what data is collected and how to prevent that data from being collected

A lot of the functionality they're discussing is still there and the stuff that isn't is allowing unsigned extensions which, dude, put a fork in it. They're not going to budge on unsigned extensions but the bar you have to clear to get signed is really really low; like this guy is LITERALLY saying "allow the installation of malicious extensions."

Yep. They do. This point reminds me of a lot of the people on tumblr who hate ads but also hate it when people pay for tumblr. As it turns out making things costs money, and making things used by millions of people costs *A LOT* of money.

I mean FFS one of the things this writer complains about is that Mozilla has a YouTube page.

This isn't just letting perfect be the enemy of good, it's letting perfect be the enemy of *functionally existing as a large organization in the modern world.*

Anyway, I'm glad you enjoy my blog, thank you for letting me know!

[simpshaaaa]

After living in the apocalypse for years, Cale developed few habits

One which is that he has every solution to every odd problem

I bet one of them is how to escape from a bear without attacking it and the solution is by pulling a wrestling move on it and when the bear is in shock and paralyzed for a moment, Cale will make a run from it

Alver: Are you okay?

Cale: I mean, it's a good idea. I don't want to hurt the bear. What if it had a baby???

Another is storing food in Raon dimensional space

Rosalyn: I'm a bit hungry..

Cale pulling Raon: Do you want some apple slice?

Rosalyn: I kinda want some croissants actually

Cale: I have 100 of them, Raon

Raon: FRESH STILL CROISSANT FOR OUR VERY SMART ROSALYN

Rosalyn: ..Why do you have 100 croissants???

Cale: Just in case

Remember yalls. Cale got trapped in a building before during the early apocalypse:3 so he was starving for awhile before meeting Soohyuk

Anyway next is having a few emergency funds. Cale has a retirement fund(which his uncle stole) and some other funds that others (via Alver, Deruth, Fredo) provided and also don't forget the money and jewelry he looted too

Cale: I have an emergency fund 1, an emergency fund 2, an emergency fund 3, an emergency fund 4,,,,,,, and lastly an emergency fund 202 for 202 types of situations

Bud: ..Why?

Cale: Just in case

Bud: .. You're the oldest son of the Duke family?? And the SWORN BROTHER of the crown prince????

Cale: Yeah,, but just in case............

Also also also

I noticed Cale hardly spent money on himself but his kids and family

That one chapter where he brings the kids into the toy shop but they wanted swords and stuff

They really thought he was going to buy those toys for himself 😭😭😭

Also he has that magic space bag where he can store a lot of things, but not so much as Raon dimensional space (ok do y'all see a problem now with Cale????) and in that bag he keeps his personal items like cape and some money, and that death book

I headconan that little Roksu has a lot of secret places that he keeps his money from his abusive and gamble/alcohol addicted uncle

Y'all can add more,

I don't have anymore ideas

[chilschuck]

AAAA i love your blog!! could i pls request a post-canon scenario where chilchuck finally admits his feelings for reader now that they’re not co-workers anymore >_< (assuming reader joined the laios party during the story)

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAAAAH ANON i’m so happy you love my stuff!! i LOVEDDD writing this for you, and i have another request in my askbox that’s similar that i’m going to do as well! this was super fun, and i found myself enjoying this idea and coming up with things i could do with it!!! i hope you enjoy!!! <333

— SHELTER: chilchuck x gn!reader.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw fluff!! takes place post-canon.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1745 (got carried away again…)

✦ i’m scared to reread this, but right now I’m actually happy with it!! i hope you are too!! <333 i tried my best to keep spoilers to a minimum, and to make this fun to read!! also, the title comes from the song shelter by ray lamontagne, which i listened to while writing it. i hope you enjoy!!!

With your party’s adventure finally over, you had decided to try and finally settle down as much as you could. With everyone finding their own new place in life, you did your best to find one too.

You couldn’t deny it had been rather lonely lately. Your own home was empty, a small place you had tried your best to make feel cozy. With your old party members living their own lives, you hoped you could live yours. But evidently, no matter how hard you tried, your mind always went back to him.

It was a bittersweet feeling; imagining him finally living healthily, working on helping others, and even maybe starting up that shop he talked about wanting. It wasn’t like you never saw him, but going on with every day life without him felt… mundane.

Chilchuck was working on himself, reconnecting with his family, and building the future he had hoped for. That alone helped you feel as much at peace as possible. Your feelings, to you, were not nearly as important as his own happiness. So here you waited, counting down the days you’d get to see him again. Maybe he’d be happy to see you too.

Little did you know, Chilchuck was devastatingly nervous. Buttoning up his shirt with shaky fingers, he tried his best to look as decent as he possibly could. It was the final thing he felt he needed to move on, and he wasn’t going to let himself ruin it. Not this, he told himself. There were some things he refused to let slip through his fingers, and one of them were his feelings he had developed for you.

Through it all, you had been by his side. An integral part of the party, you had built him up when he needed it most. Looking past all the mistakes, all the cynicism he liked to cloud himself with, you proved how much you simply cared. Not only for him, but for everyone. Chilchuck had fallen in love with you, and for once, he didn’t want to push those feelings down.

He had bought the flowers he knew you liked, tied with a sweet ribbon that he felt maybe was a bit too much. In fact, maybe all of this was a bit too much, but he hoped it’d work. Chilchuck even went to talk to Marcille about it all, a sign in his own mind that he was more smitten than he had been in years. Not to mention that he had, in fact, reconnected with his ex-wife, and had gained the closure he needed to take this big of a step. There was nothing holding him back now, and he could only hope the words of encouragement he was given would hold true.

Chilchuck had visited your home before, always noting just how comfortable he felt there. You were always happy to have guests lately, and he felt himself praying that this would be the case this time, too. Fist raised in front of your door, he took a deep breath before rapping it against the wood.

The knock came as a surprise, but not as surprising as the person who was behind it. Your eyes widened, his name leaving your lips in delight. “Chilchuck, hello!” It was slightly out of breath from the sheer excitement you had to try and suppress at seeing him here in front of you. Moving to the side, you motioned him in. “Do you… Want to come in?”

One hand behind his back still, trying his best to not snap the stems of the delicate flowers between his fingers, he nodded. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden visit.”

Shaking your head, you walked inside to prepare him something to drink. “Not at all! You know me… I could never say no to seeing you.”

It felt like another of Cupid’s arrows shot him through the chest. Maybe he shouldn’t look too deeply into your words, at least not yet. Following you inside, Chilchuck found himself trying his best to find anything to look at of interest. The plants on your shelves, the well loved books on the table, the occasional trinket you had decided you couldn’t live without… Everything that made it feel so much like you.

While you fiddled around in your small kitchen, Chilchuck cleared his throat. His mouth felt dry, and to try and slow down the thoughts rushing through his head, he spoke up again. “You know… You’ve done a great job with this place. I remember when you bought it.”

You couldn’t help but smile, thinking back fondly of how proud you were. Preparing you both glasses of wine, you turned your attention to him for a moment. “That means a lot, thank you. How have things been with the guild?”

Chilchuck hummed, eyes studying a particular painting on your wall. “Good… Pretty much the usual. Things are going pretty well. What about you, anything interesting since we last saw each other?”

Other than your constant war on your feelings for the half-foot, you’ve been trying new hobbies in order to distract yourself. As you turned to hand him the glass, you racked your brain for something to say. Giving him a sheepish smile, you shook your head. “Not particularly. Here, it’s one you like. Let’s go sit, yeah?”

He held your gaze for a moment, the flowers in his hand a constant reminder of what he was here for. Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to speak. “Yeah. But first, I have something to give you…”

Finally taking the hand from behind his back, he steeled himself as much as he could before holding them out to you. Quickly setting the glasses down, you let out a sound of surprise. Your hands reached out for them, as delicate as possible.

Chilchuck felt like his face was a bit too hot for something as simple as this, but it’s been such a long time since he’s had to really woo anyone. How the hell did he manage to do this all those years ago? Scratching the back of his head, he broke the silence between the two of you.

“They’re your favorites, right? I happened to see ‘em and thought you’d be happy.”

Although Chilchuck felt like he was doing a piss poor job at this, you felt like you were swooning all over again. You know how much he used actions as a love language, yet could you even call it that in this situation? Friends did nice things for each other, yet…

His brows were furrowed in determination, the tips of his ears rosy and suddenly you felt like maybe there was something there. Your gaze fell to the buds in your hands, freshly picked and done so with care. The smile that made its way on your features was unabashed.

“Yes, yes they’re my favorites… I can’t believe you remembered that. Let me go get something to put them in. Thank you so much, Chil.”

It was worth it just to see you smile like that. Even if he felt a little ridiculous at the action, it paid off when you held the vase proudly in your hands. “I’m going to put them on my desk. I love them…” You spoke softly, your own cheeks turning that shade of pink he loved so much. For a few moments, it became silent again, his brain scrambling for what to say next.

“You asked me about my plans after our adventure was over. There… was something I wasn’t honest about. And I want to be honest about it now.”

Chilchuck made sure to correctly word everything he needed to say. Taking time in between his sentences, his gaze returned to yours. There was something there that you had only hoped you’d seen in the past; a taste of desire.

“I want to be there for you. I know we’re no longer coworkers, so…” The words fell silent, you remaining patient through his pauses. Softly, you gave a gentle phrase of reassurance. “You’re already there for me, I know that, Chil—”

Raising a hand, he silenced you. Contemplation took over his features, that worry line between his brows that you always found endearing still making an appearance. You waited for him to elaborate.

“…As more than friends.”

Your heart stopped. Did you hear him correctly? Certainly you did, your voice having gotten stuck in your throat as you tried to wrap your head around the weight those words carried. Was he saying that, this whole time, you’ve been a goal all along? Hearing your name, you snapped your attention back to him.

“I want to be more honest with how I feel. I know how I used to be, and I’m working towards fixing it.” His deep brown eyes held a small glimmer of hope, of vulnerability. Chilchuck was trying, and he was trying for you.

Feeling as if the wind was knocked out of your lungs, you asked shakily, “You want…?”

He smiled, a small etch in his features. Huffing, Chilchuck fiddled with the collar of his shirt. “You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? I… Have feelings for you. If you don’t feel the same I get it, don’t—“

Before he could finish his sentence, you hurriedly set the flowers down before just about tackling him. The shock of hearing him say exactly what you’d been wishing for so long melted into a need to relay exactly how you felt. Chilchuck grunted at the impact, nearly toppling over.

“Of course I feel the same! You think I’d put up with your grumpy ass for this long if I didn’t?” You couldn’t help the teasing words that followed, pulling away from him to grin widely at him. “Can I kiss you?”

Your excitement caught him even more off guard, eyes widening at your question. “Sorry, that was probably a bit too much—“

Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Chilchuck tugged you to his lips in a desperate attempt to get you to just shut up and do it. You happily obliged, only pulling away to ask one more question. “How long?”

Chilchuck panted, confusion evident on his features. “What?”

“How long have you felt this way?” Your curiosity was getting the better of you, wondering just how long you two had managed to dance around each other like this. Chilchuck sighed, giving the only answer he could think to say:

“Too long.”

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Sugar and Spice: Part 1

(E.M. x Fem!Reader x S.H.) Part 2 Series Masterlist.

Summary: Steve has massive crush on you, Eddie’s childhood bestfriend who just came home from collage. The only problem is you despised him in highschool and he’s pretty sure Eddie’s in love with you.

Warnings: Eventual smut, pining, love triangle, no upside down, eventual steddie x reader, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, fluff, no use of Y/N so definitely a billion pet names. There’s not really any for this chapter, it’s mostly setting the scene for the rest of the story. Mentions of sex and some swearing. I will add additional warnings each chapter! But still my work is always 18+MNDI

A/N: Okay I found this in my docs and I was reading over it and got inspired to keep writing it. I’ve had this idea in my head for a long time about a Reader who has a kind of like pastel goth type of aesthetic. Like she plays D&D and loves horror but also really loves chick flicks and pink. She listens to Black Sabbath but then will turn around and listen to Blondie in the same 10 minutes. Collects Care Bears but has read every Anne Rice book. I feel like both Eddie and Steve would lose their minds over that. There will be no physical descriptions of reader besides the outfits she wears, which will be things like big chunky goth boots and fuzzy pink sweaters. Ngl it’s kinda self indulgent of me but I hope there’s others who can relate to her.🤭 divider I used is by: @firefly-graphics

Steve wasn’t obsessed with you, at least he tried to convince himself that was the case. He hadn’t seen you since you graduated and moved to the city. But ever since you’ve been back it’s like he sees you everywhere. You come into his work sometimes and rent horror movies, or on rare occasions you rent something totally cute and left-field like The Little Mermaid. You wore outfits that were somehow the hottest and cutest thing he’s ever seen at once, his favorite he’s ever seen you in was this short little black skirt and a pink button up cardigan that you replaced the buttons with little skulls all brought together by the big platform boots you’re usually wearing. That contrast just made him more infatuated with you. You were like sugar and spice wrapped up in one really beautiful girl.

But there were TWO major problems, one being that you hated him In highschool. He was an arrogant asshole who thought he was better than everyone, could do whatever he wanted and looked down on the kind of people you hung around. You were pretty quiet but outspoken and opinionated when you wanted to be, kept close to the few friends you had and always had your head in some kind of horror or vampire book that Steve would definitely not understand but would’ve totally listened to you talk about all day just to hear you talk about something you loved. He always thought you were pretty, even in highschool when you used to dress a lot more reserved. Mostly ripped jeans, the occasional Care Bears tee, and shirts of bands he didn’t know. He even asked you out once Junior year before he got with Nancy and you laughed in his face and said “yeah fucking right Harrington, good one” But now? You’re always wearing those little mini skirts, low cut tank tops, and ripped up fishnets. Steve literally feels like he can’t think around you.

Which brings him to problem number two…Eddie. You and Eddie are bestfriends and have been since middle school, he’s part of the reason you never liked Steve because of the way he and his friends treated Eddie. Even though Steve was never directly mean to YOU, his friends were and that was enough. But Steve and Eddie had a recently developed… acquaintanceship due to their mutual friendship with Dustin. It took some time and convincing but once they got past their preconceived notions of each other they were able to be civil. Eddie being in the group meant when you came back naturally you were integrated in as well. Which means Steve has seen you in an actual social setting multiple times now.

You think that would be great, right? Wrong. Eddie was constantly touching you. Holding your hand, putting his arms around your waist, you sitting IN HIS LAP. It drove Steve fucking crazy, especially because he knows that Eddie loves you and he feels just a little bad about it because he had actually started to really like Eddie and maybe even began to see him as a friend. But seeing him all over you drove him insane and made him have a bad taste in his mouth every time he heard his name. He was pretty sure you loved Eddie. The way you looked at him and the gentle way you handled him and spoke to him like he wasn’t the resident metalhead drug dealer but a giant teddy bear that needed to be hugged and cared for.

Steve would’ve given up in an instant if you said you were Eddie’s girl, but you always said you guys were bestfriends despite the fact that Eddie definitely called you his girl on multiple occasions to the entire group. You definitely had feelings for him. He could see it but there was also something keeping you from making it official and that gave Steve hope. Especially once you warmed up to him and started sitting on HIS lap sometimes. You would just come and plop down across his knees looking at him all sweet like it was the most casual thing and you didn’t just make his brain short circuit. You started calling him cute little pet names and kissing his cheek every time you saw him.

Again, these things would all be fantastic IF you didn’t do all the same things and more with Eddie. Every time you sat on Eddie’s lap he literally wanted to rip you off of him and kiss you right in front of Eddie’s smug face. He was always smirking at Steve over your shoulder because he knew Steve liked you. He confronted him about it last week when they were at the arcade with Dustin and Mike.

“So. You like her don’t you?” Eddie just asked him out of the blue. Steve looked at him with a confused look on his face not really registering what he meant at first “Huh? Like who?”

“Don’t play dumb man, you know who I’m talking about” Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes

“Why would you think she would ever like you back? You treated us like shit in highschool and just because she’s more confident and can stand to be in the same room as you, now you want her? Fuck that. She deserves better than that, she is so much more than how she looks.”

Steve was kind of taken back at first, knowing he wasn’t exactly wrong “You don’t think I know that Munson? I don’t just like her because she’s hot. She also has this confidence and energy about her that’s just really attractive. She’s fucking funny and not afraid to be herself. She’s got that whole sugar and spice thing going on where she’s so sweet and gentle one second and the next she’s cussing like a sailor going off on these cute little tangents. I thought we established I’m not the guy I was in highschool anymore. I’m not some player trying to go through women. I like her.” he kind of didn’t mean to say ALL of that but it just kept coming out once he started talking about you he couldn’t help it.

“Okay I get it, you actually like her. Either way she’s never going to go for you, you aren’t even her type.” He grabbed the sleeve of Steve’s bright blue crew neck “I’ve never seen her be into a pretty boy like you, she likes dudes who look like they’re part of the lost boys clan or the dudes she sees on MTV.”

Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes “Sooo, you then? If you love her so much then why aren’t you with her?” Eddie flushed and his face fell slightly “because man, she’s the most important person in my life. Imagine if we got together for real and then we broke up? Things wouldn’t be the same between us, I might lose her entirely”

“When you say ‘for real’ what does that mean?” Steve asked him, hoping it didn’t mean what he thought it meant.

“I mean we do a lot of couple things, we go on bestfriend dates, we are super affectionate with each other, we fuck sometimes, but both of us are scared if we decided to be together for real it would ruin it” Eddie shrugged like he didn’t just metaphorically punch Steve in the chest with that information.

“So what? Are you guys exclusive or what? Because if you’re not, I’m going to ask her out.” Steve just shrugged trying to play it off.

“Dude. Are you seriously going to ask out my girl after what I just said!?”

“Yeah, DUDE. You just said she wasn’t yours so is she or isn’t she?”

“Now that I finally have you around without Eddie I can ask the question I’ve been dying to ask, what’s the deal with you two? Are you like, together?” Robin suddenly asked you out of the blue.

Her and Nancy finally convinced you to have a girls day with them. You went and got mani pedis and picked up lunch so you could eat it back at Nancy and Jonathan’s apartment while you watched some movies Robin got from work.

“I mean… Technically? No. You could say we are like bestfriends with benefits I guess? We have kind of been fooling around off and on since sophomore year of highschool when we lost our virginity to each other.”

“And you’re… okay with that?”

“Yeah Robin, I’m okay with it. We decided a long time ago that us being together for real wasn't really an option. Imagine if we broke up? I couldn’t handle losing him.” You bit your lip, just the thought of losing Eddie made you anxious.

Now you had Nancy curious “So have you ever been with anyone else? Or are you guys like exclusive friends with benefits? Because if you’ve only ever been with him I’d say you’re pretty much together anyways.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve had hookups and flings, so has Eddie. I had a few guys I went on a couple dates with when I was gone at school but I’ve never had an actual relationship really. Neither has he.”

“So you’re telling us, you’ve been fucking on and off and on for almost EIGHT YEARS, never had a real relationship, and yet you guys still aren’t actually together? Don’t you think that’s maybe the reason neither of you have ever had a relationship? You’re stuck on each other?” Nancy, always the voice of reason.

“I absolutely know that’s why, I compare every guy to Eddie and no one has measured up. He treats me like a princess, why would I want a boyfriend who treats me anything less than that?” You shrugged and took another bite of your egg roll.

“Okay but what about when you do find that person? Or he does? What then? Things will change either way.” Robin questioned. She had her own reasons for bringing this all up in the first place. She knew Steve liked you, and he made her promise not to mettle but just asking if you were single isn’t meddling, right?

“I don’t know Robin, we’ve never talked about it. We will cross that bridge when the time comes.” You hoped they would let it go after that. It’s not that you necessarily didn’t want to talk about your relationship with Eddie, it’s just whenever anyone brings up that it probably has an eventual expiration date you feel like your whole world is crashing down.

“So there’s really no one you’ve ever thought you really really liked?” Okay, maybe she was reaching meddling territory now.

“Nope. Never. Can we just watch dirty dancing now?”

You didn’t feel like elaborating more than that, especially since recently there was someone you’d started to like. It was confusing and very much against your will but you had started to develop a small crush on Steve. You tried really hard to give him the cold shoulder when you first got back, you spent years with feelings of animosity towards him but if even Eddie could give him another chance you figured you could too. Then of course he had to be just so sweet, and such a gentleman, always telling you that you looked pretty and he smelled so good. It honestly made you want to punch him in the face. Or kiss him. Or both.

Robin narrowed her eyes at you but decided to drop it for now, even though she could tell there was definitely something you weren’t telling them with how quickly you decided to change the subject.

“Yeah okay, let’s watch the movie. But I’m not letting this go forever.”

“I didn’t even think for a second that you would.” You laughed and pressed play on the VHS.

Your love life wasn’t brought up anymore after that but that didn’t keep you from thinking about it. What would happen if Eddie got a girlfriend? You and him were never exclusive but the thought of him actually loving someone made you feel sick. Did he feel the same way? You hoped he did. Does that mean you want things with him to be exclusive? You’d never really allowed yourself to have those thoughts but now you were starting to wonder.

Then there was Steve, who just added to your confusion. Something about him just drew you to him, even back in highschool when you felt nothing but negative feelings toward him it was like he was everywhere you looked. Maybe you always had a small crush on him but would’ve never in a million years admitted it to yourself back then. It’s not like you would’ve ever had a chance, he treated everyone like you like dirt under his shoe. He never bullied you directly but him picking on your friends was enough to tell you how he probably felt about you too. Then you remember that one time Junior year when he asked you out, did he actually mean it? The thought that he might like you made your insides heat up and you felt like one of those girls you used to make fun of in highschool for swooning over him.

Robin could practically see the gears turning in your head, it was very obvious you weren’t watching the movie at all and she knew she told Steve she wouldn’t involve herself but she just had this feeling…

“You like Steve don’t you?” Robin’s voice snapped you out of your cycle of spiraling thoughts and you whipped your head around to look at her.

“What!?”

[elyvorg]

The Real Reason That Sissel Refused to Help

(or: the subtle genius of Ghost Trick’s tutorial)

“I just want to find my own lost memory. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

Here’s a post in which I talk about this particular part of Ghost Trick’s story, which I’m keeping as vague as possible outside of the spoiler cut, but those who’ve finished the game should know what I’m referring to. What’s actually going on here is rather interesting, and paints our friend Sissel in a much less negative light than the face-value assumption I tend to see most people jumping to with this.

First, though, I have written a fic illustrating this idea in narrative form rather than lengthily explaining it. If you’re interested, I recommend you go read that first before reading this, because being shown is more fun than being told!

(Also, spoilers, obviously. Go play Ghost Trick if you haven’t; it’s so good and absolutely not the kind of thing you want to be spoiled for.)

So, in the original timeline, Sissel refused to help Missile save his mistresses, stating that he just wants to find his own lost memories.

It could easily seem at a glance like Sissel’s character development over the course of the game is that he started off selfish, only caring about his own mystery, and it’s only through getting attached to everyone throughout the night that he begins to care about others and the bigger picture. As such, his refusal to help Missile in the original timeline is easy to read as being born of that, since this was early on when Sissel still only cared about himself.

But… it’s not actually that simple, because Sissel isn’t as selfish in the beginning as one might think. Sure, he’ll say things like “I have to focus on my own mystery”, or “this is all for my own benefit”. But that doesn’t actually match up with his actions. His own mystery may be, in theory, his number one priority, but a remarkably close second priority for him is to save the lives of any dead person he happens to come across. Even very early on, before he’s grown to care about any of these people!

He doesn’t hesitate to save Missile, despite having zero reason to assume that this little doggie will be any help with his mystery. The second time he finds Lynne dead, when he’s getting to talk to her and learns that she doesn’t actually know much about him and probably won’t be able to help him because she’s got her own case to pursue tonight, he still reassures her that she doesn’t owe him and he’s going to save her life anyway.

And even right at Lynne’s very first death, in the game’s opening narration, Sissel makes a point that he doesn’t want to stand back and let her get shot, and that he feels bad for her, despite her being a complete stranger!

Evidently, even right at the beginning, Sissel isn’t selfish. He just thinks he is. Because cats can be tsundere like that.

Sissel:  “Why am I so determined to save this woman? After all, it’s not as if I know her. My reason is twofold. Number one, I’m not the type to leave women lying around, discarded like trash.”

(Here’s a bit from later in chapter 1 featuring Sissel being amusingly surprised by his own altruistic streak. He seems to expect to only care about himself – yet here he is, not wanting to leave a stranger lying dead if he can help it. Not so selfish after all, huh?)

So if that’s not the problem in the original timeline, then what is? Why does Sissel leave Missile to deal with saving his ladies alone when he’d have no reason not to try and help? – after all, he hasn’t been given a fake time limit in this timeline! He’s not even in a hurry with his own mystery! For that matter, Sissel was still there in the junkyard at the beginning – why didn’t he just save Lynne himself?

We can get a good indication of what the issue is from that very same opening narration I was just talking about.

Sissel:  “Now, I’m not the kind of guy who can just stand back and watch a poor woman get shot. But I have just one little problem… I’m already dead myself.”

Sissel:  “I feel bad for her, sure. But what can I do? I’m dead. But just as I was thinking that…”

The real problem is not that he doesn’t care about saving a stranger’s life. Rather, it’s that, because he’s dead, he doesn’t think he can. He’s not expecting to magically have ghost superpowers; why would he?

And it’s just as he was thinking that he can’t do anything (which, while part of his screen-filling monologue narration, was still his thoughts and therefore something any nearby ghost could hear)… that Ray speaks up to tell him that actually he can save her.

Sissel:  “Huh?” (Me? Save her? Uh, how?)

Immediately, Sissel questions the notion once again, not with a why but with a how. It’s not that he doesn’t want to; he simply doesn’t think it’s possible.

This general idea continues throughout the entire tutorial, which is absolutely packed with lines that show Sissel being deeply sceptical about the idea that he could possibly save someone’s life or alter someone’s fate.

Once Ray’s taught him about his basic ghost tricks and he’s managed to delay Lynne’s death by a few moments… she still ends up dead anyway. And Sissel thinks that’s it. Because of course he does. Even if he can stop time and manipulate objects, he has zero reason to believe that his powers can undo a death that’s already happened.

Sissel:  “In the end, it looks like her fate remains unchanged. So what good are these ‘ghost tricks’ of mine? But just as I was thinking this…”

Sissel:  “It looks like my ghost tricks didn’t do much good.” (She still ended up just as dead as before.)

He even ends up feeling like his new superpowers are barely worth anything, because he can play a few little tricks on someone, but that’s not enough to save someone’s life, is it?

Ray:  “Isn’t it a shame to see such a pretty young woman lying here discarded like a piece of trash?” Sissel:  “But what can I do? She’s already dead.”

Ray:  “And while she’s resting, you can save her life.” Sissel:  “Oh, sure. You make it sound so easy.”

And again, he’s very dismissive of Ray implying or telling him that he can do something about this. After all, how could that be possible any more?

In particular, there’s this vital little bit of trickery here…

Ray:  “Now what do you suppose will happen if you possess a corpse?” Sissel:  “Nothing, because I already tried that, remember? And nothing happened at all.”

…in which Sissel assumes his powers just don’t work on corpses, because he’s already tried and failed to do anything with “his” corpse. If he’d been alone, without Ray to guide him through things, he most likely wouldn’t have even tried to possess Lynne’s corpse in the first place, because he would have had no reason to believe it would achieve anything!

(Meanwhile, Missile in the original timeline also had zero reason to believe he could do anything for Kamila, but he was so anguished and desperate that of course he would have tried anyway. He’d try anything to save her, because he is good and loyal and Dog. So he was able to discover his time-rewinding powers where Sissel didn’t, and thus he passed that knowledge onto Sissel in the game’s timeline.)

And as Ray tells Sissel that he can in fact rewind time to redo the last moments of Lynne’s life, he’s completely dumbfounded and bewildered by the very idea of it.

Sissel:  “Are you serious?! Back through time?!”

Sissel:  “But this is crazy! None of it makes any sense!”

Ray:  “To the time four minutes before this woman was murdered!” Sissel:  “H-Hey, wait a second! I still don’t know what you’re talking about!”

What is this lamp even talking about?! Of course turning back time isn’t possible! He had no reason to believe it was possible, even as part of his new wacky ghost powers.

(Meanwhile, when Sissel is saving Missile in the game, we get a little exchange that shows Missile being completely unfazed by the idea that Sissel’s brought them back in time. It’s no weirder than humans walking around on two legs, right? One way or another, the cat can barely wrap his head around it, while the dog sees it as perfectly plausible.)

One thing Ray says more than once during the tutorial is, “The best thing to do is try it.” Because Sissel is being so stubbornly cynical that he will not take this desk lamp’s word about how useful his powers are and has to literally be pushed into trying it himself in order to believe it, every time.

Even after seeing for himself that he can go back in time and watch Lynne’s death again, Sissel still manages to be pessimistic about this.

Ray:  “And there you have it. The last four minutes of her life.” Sissel:  [strained] “No…!” Ray:  “It’s kind of ironic, when you think about it. A woman toyed with by fate, and a man toyed with by a ghost.” Sissel:  “But she still died.”

He went back in time, and she still died. There’s still apparently nothing he can do, right? No, Sissel, just have a bit of patience! This is just the mechanic that lets you understand what happens before you dive in and start changing things; you’ll get your chance soon!

And once he’s finally successfully saved Lynne…

Ray:  “You used your powers to avert that woman’s fate.” Sissel: “So I did that?”

Sissel still has a moment of being surprised at the notion that he was capable of something like this.

It’s really striking to me, watching over chapter 1 again with this thought about original-timeline Sissel in mind, just how many lines to this effect there are throughout the whole thing. The writers did not need to include this many moments of Sissel being sceptical, or even any of them at all, really, in order for the tutorial to do its job as a tutorial! But they’re here anyway, because it is in fact really important to the story that Sissel is somebody who would not have tried hard enough to figure out that his powers can undo deaths unless he had someone holding his hand through it the whole way.

The way old-Missile talks about it when he’s explaining himself at the end, it’s easy to get the takeaway that the most important thing he did as Ray was to take advantage of Sissel’s supposed self-interest: by not contradicting his misconception that he’s the man in red, by telling him Lynne is the key to his mystery (a half-truth at best), and by giving him a fake time limit. And it’s not that those things didn’t help, but they’re not really the most important thing at all.

The most important thing Ray did for Sissel, the thing that Missile absolutely most needed to spend those ten years waiting to do, was exactly what it appeared to be during chapter 1: to teach him how to use his powers to save lives. Because the number one thing the Sissel from the original timeline needed but didn’t get was, quite literally, a tutorial.

There’s a little bit more to it than this, though. So, okay, Sissel in the original timeline didn’t know he had the vital time-rewinding power. But then that begs the question: why didn’t Missile just tell him that while asking for his help?

For that matter, why did Sissel leave Missile shortly after being asked for help? It can’t just be because he urgently had to go and look elsewhere for answers to his own mystery, because he’s not pressed for time here. And he was apparently chilling at the junkyard just eavesdropping on the investigators’ conversations before Missile showed up. Why the sudden shift in locations now of all times, when there’s someone here who’s actually talking to him – the first person Sissel would have been able to talk to all night – and asking him for help?

The issue here, I believe, is that this isn’t just a matter of Sissel’s lack of understanding what his powers can do. It’s also a matter of emotional state – both Sissel’s, and Missile’s. Both of them would have been incredibly stressed out and upset, Sissel due to his loss of memory and seeing deaths in front of him that he doesn’t think he can do anything about, and Missile due to his mistresses’ deaths that he also can’t do anything about, even though he has a superpower that lets him try but it just isn’t quite enough.

How would Missile and Sissel’s interaction go when they’re both so upset like this? There’s actually a fun little bite-sized example of this in the actual canon timeline. During the last desperate struggle to escape the sinking submarine…

Missile:  “Sissel! Y-Y-Y… You’re not telling Miss Lynne to leave poor Miss Kamila behind, ARE YOU?!” Sissel:  *sigh* “Could you just be quiet for a minute, Missile?”

Missile and Sissel are bound to be both extremely anxious and stressed in this situation – trapped in the submarine, Lynne and Kamila in danger of drowning if they don’t do something. And in that state of mind, it seems that Missile is prone to eschewing logic to be even more loudly desperately protective of his mistresses… while Sissel especially does not enjoy Missile being Loudly Boisterously Dog in his ear when he’s stressed out. After all, cats and dogs have very opposite and very incompatible ways of dealing with stress!

So it follows that the conversation between Sissel and Missile in the original timeline would likely have been an incoherent emotional mess, in which neither of them properly communicated their side of things at all. Missile must have just never even thought to tell Sissel that he can rewind time and therefore saving his ladies is actually possible in theory, because that was already obvious to him! He wouldn’t be capable of understanding why Sissel would be so reluctant about this.

As for why Sissel wasn’t just reluctant to help but outright ran away and sealed the deal – I think, more than anything, it’s got to be down to the fact that he couldn’t stand having Missile being so loud and energetic at him when he was this upset. Especially not while repeatedly saying that he can save them, which would be the exact thing Sissel has been miserably convinced that he just can’t. It follows that he’d just have wanted to run and hide somewhere Missile isn’t, where he can have some peace and quiet. Cats who are upset often like to hide and isolate themselves to feel safer.

There’s one other part in the game’s tutorial that suggests the problem originally might have been partly a matter of Sissel’s emotions:

Ray:  “Hello there. How are you feeling? Not very well, I imagine. A terrible tragedy, what happened tonight.” Sissel:  “………” [neutral face] Ray:  “Ah, ignoring me, are you? It’s a little too early for you to be so stiff and cold, I’d say.” Sissel:  [smiling] “Ah, so it was you. You were that voice in my head, right?”

This is very noteworthy, because Ray is the only person in the entire game who ever takes the time to ask Sissel how he’s feeling. He wouldn’t be feeling great after waking up dead, watching a woman die in front of him and failing to save her, would he?

It seems like old-Missile, with his years of wisdom and time to reflect on everything, realised that his approach to getting Sissel’s help last time really was way too focused on his own problems, and he never even stopped to think about how Sissel must have been feeling. So here, he presents himself as a friend, someone who cares about Sissel and his journey, because that’s exactly what Sissel needs! This poor kitty must have felt so lonely and sad and helpless in the original timeline. But hearing Ray’s words, and realising that this desk lamp is someone semi-familiar, does seem to cheer him up at least a little bit here! Sissel really is a character whose core desperate need is to just not be alone, even if you’d be hard-pressed to get him to admit that at the beginning.

Interestingly, way back when I first played Ghost Trick, on the DS soon after it came out, I found myself intrigued by Sissel in the original timeline. I vaguely toyed with the idea of writing a fic exploring how he was feeling and why he refused, though I never got around to actually doing so. Then recently, the game coming out in HD rekindled my hyperfixation and made me think about it some more and actually end up writing that fic after all. And the thing is, back then, I didn’t remotely consciously understand any of this stuff I’ve just explained here. But even so, I find it neat how I still had this wordless sense that what was going on with Sissel must have been so much more than just selfishness – that he must have been so sad in that timeline and that had to be the real basis of why he didn’t help.

[refrigeratorwrites]

⊹ ࣪ ˖୧ ‧₊˚ THE MOON IS BEAUTIFUL, ISN'T IT?

RORONOA ZORO x GN!READER

SYNOPSIS: in which zoro comes to three conclusions about your role in his life. accompanied by unrelenting rhythms in his chest, they betray his attempt to conceal the fourth observation.

CONTENT: 1.3k words, pining, confessions, attempt at humor, spoiler free, usopp being silly, mostly zoro pov bc is a fool in love and i LOVE THAT FOR HIM!! his emotional intelligence is also very developed here lol

on chilly, sleepless nights, zoro strongly believes that he is simply not made to love. he aimlessly wanders under warm streetlights–tipsy on a cheap bottle of booze and an aching desire to alleviate the weight in his heart.

shit. i have no idea where i am. the throbbing in his head shifts from discomfort to irritation.

with a groan, the swordsman slumps to the closest bench, blades clashing while he throws his head back. in his intoxicated state, a soft sigh slips his lips upon marveling in fascination at the twinkling stars littering the dark sky. zoro’s right eye finally flutters to a close, allowing himself to relish in the brisk winds against his tanned skin.

he recalled asking usopp–who was on his way to his workshop–about his abnormal heightened heart rhythms yesterday. odd sensations plagued his mind, leaving him constantly distracted with a rapid pulse. the frustrated boy filled his crewmate in on his recent symptoms: constricting chest pain, clammy palms, and sudden waves of nausea—which happened to catch his attention.

“you pregnant?” usopp joked in amusement. “lucky for you, sir. i happen to know a very good doctor–” a loud smack interrupted his referral.

“seriously?” the vice captain heaved. “you’ll be on a first-name basis with every doctor in this town if you keep that up, usopp.” 

“why do you always pick on me?” usopp yelped, rubbing the back of his head in an attempt to soothe the sting left by zoro’s palm. “just go to chopper for help.”

“it’s not that big of a deal. jus’ tell me what you think.” 

“you try to help a man out for once, ‘nd this is what happens… “ although he had asked, zoro’s laid-back response went over his head as the pained boy continued to complain to himself. “i’m never being nice again—‘s never worked out for me once...” 

another stern threat from the green-haired man forces him to straighten his back. he cleared his throat loudly.

“alright now, mr. roronoa! doctor usopp would like to inquire when these symptoms first began.”

“dunno.” he mumbled impatiently, choosing to ignore the sniper’s antics. “from working out too hard the other day?” zoro followed the other boy as he stroked his chin–seemingly in deep thought. 

the latter suddenly whipped his head around, “now, would you consider that to be… irregular when you exercise?”

“dude. what kinda question is that.”

“c’mon, work with me here!” usopp whined. “a guy can’t have a little fun?” zoro let out a deep sigh in defeat as he continued to think back to what happened.

“well, i was finishing up my sets when y/n came in.” he gruffed. thump. “started talking ‘bout some book they read. don’t really know what they were on about, but they seemed all excited. made me start feeling all those… feelings again.”

“…alrightttt, i’ve heard enough! session’s over.”

zoro was met with a door slammed to his face as usopp seemed to reach his destination. 

“wha– hey! what the hell was that for?” he yelled, banging against the wood. 

“for a scary fellow, you sure are slowww, my friend!” the sharp shooter shouted back at him. he slowly opened the door again and, like a child, poked his head back out. zoro’s features twisted in bewilderment.

“what? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means! that doctor usopp is diagnosing you with a severe case of loooove-sickkkk-nessss!” he sounded out his assessment slowly. “your task? deep introspection.”

following his prognosis with a firm nod, he begins to shut the door again–though more carefully this time.

“you can do it, man!” a thumbs up is sent to the baffled man in front of him.. “i believe in you! sorta...”

“huh? usopp, don’t patronize me.”

“oops– 'nd i almost forgot,” his eye is now barely visible through the crack. “expect a bill for my services hehe. come again next time!”

zoro paused. lovesickness?

“there you are.” a gentle voice pulls him out of his daze. thump. instantly recognizing it to be yours, he grunts to acknowledge your presence to ease the intense beating in his chest.

“you following me now?” blinking, zoro makes the foolish mistake of allowing light to enter his vision again. finally adjusting to the brightness, a silhouette of your figure emerges above him as the starlit sky illuminates behind you. 

like a deity, he ponders to himself. after his conversation with usopp, the swordsman had chosen to fulfill his role as a good patient and decisively came to three conclusions about your presence in his life:

number one. you defy everything he has learned about before. 

it’s beyond his understanding of the world. no textbook, no mythology could begin to rationalize the absolute thrill it is to purely exist alongside you. from your thoughtful analyses of the most boring novels he couldn’t begin to understand, to the thorough, strategic plans you quickly conceptualized for the crew– you really were the type of person people wrote books about. thump.

number two. you are an ethereal warmth who yearns to be seen. 

and zoro would be an idiot to ignore you. if you were a religion, zoro would proudly accept whatever you preached as long as you were the one proclaiming it. such intelligence, kindness that is exerted from one being can be incredibly overwhelming, yet he could never entertain the thought of shying away from it. thump.

number three. you deserve more than what he can offer.

zoro may be slow, but he’d be exceptionally dumb to ignore the feelings he had harbored for you. he had an inkling, a sneaky suspicion even before he had confronted usopp about his symptoms. yes, maybe he loves you. maybe he longs to hold you close on cold nights like tonight. maybe he chooses to ignore the affects you had on him. and maybe it’s best to keep his sentiments tucked away to shield you from the burdens he carries. thump.

ah. yes. an unspoken fourth conclusion. he loves you. he doesn’t dare to speak it in existence.

“noticed you leave,” your concerned voice draws his attention again. you seemed to be good at doing that. “wanted to see if you were okay.” thump. there came that feeling again. the desire. the pining. the anguish.

“needed more booze. you should head back to the ship.” he deflects.

“and leave you?” you giggle quietly, bouncing your legs to adjust to the crisp air as you take a seat beside him. he doesn’t dare to move away from you, knees grazing each other shyly. “you barely know left from right.” 

for once, he snorts in amusement. thump. a stroke of confidence consumes him. silently shrugging off the jacket around his shoulders, the stoic fighter’s calloused hands move to wrap it around your frame. you lean into his tender touch. he decides it doesn’t hurt to rest his hand in the space behind you.

“thanks,” you murmur. “it’s so nice out right now. so peaceful.”

his breath accelerates. thump. you were so close. gentle puffs of your breath slip past your velvety lips, fading into the night. this was it, wasn’t it? perhaps he was still a bit intoxicated. toxins brewing in his system, yet they present an opportunity to do something about his feelings. make a move.

no, the alcohol is just an excuse. this was real. zoro can risk it. fuck the fourth conclusion. he could be selfish for once, right? thump.

“the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” he exhales, punctuating each word with confidence. thump. thump.

he turns to steal a glance at your eyes to find they were already set on him.

“of course.” the corners of your lips twitch upward. thump. thump. thump. “it always has been.”

NOTE: HI FRIENDS wanted to clarify for those of you who are unaware, "the moon is beautiful, isn't it?" is a poetic way of saying "i love you" in japanese. from my understanding and the way i use it here, the phrase emphasizes the importance of sharing the beauty of the night sky with another person. simply taking a moment to pause and connect under the same moon with someone you treasure. reader's response that the moon has always been beautiful therefore implies that they have, in fact, always loved zoro.

ANYWAYS THO lovestruck zoro has been on my mind A LOT these days so BOOM brain dump. i had two braincells and a dream. pls enjoy :D

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Title: Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Fandom: Enola Holmes series

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Warnings: age gap(reader is about 20 in this, Sherlock is mid-30s), slight voyeurism, masturbation (male), handjob, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up y’all), creampie

A/N: I’ve been throwing around this idea about Sherlock for quite some time. I hope you enjoy it. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist 

You’ve been friends with Enola for a short time, only since the beginning of the year. She’s led you on a few fun adventures, but more often than not, she’s led you on wild goose chases. She has helped you come out of your shell and you are grateful for that. On days that you weren’t exploring the countryside or causing a ruckus in the city, you would lounge around her large house. 

Spending time with her in her large house had its benefits. One of which was 6’1 with a head of unruly curls. The famous Sherlock Holmes was your best friend’s big brother. He lived in the city but came to visit Enola every week. 

You always made sure to be available on those days. If only for the chance to say hello to Sherlock. You wanted more but, truth be told, he made you a bit nervous.

You tried your best to keep calm when he would arrive, but Enola noticed your demeanor change every time. She teased you endlessly about your little crush and you would always bring up Tewkesbury. That would usually shut her up.

In truth, she did not care that you liked her brother, she just didn’t want you to waste your time. The man was not exactly sociable unless he found value in the opinions of others. One opinion he respected was that of his sister. You could sit and watch them talk for hours. She would get him to laugh with her jokes, and he would bring her to annoyance with his riddles.

You would interject a thought here and there and when Sherlock would give his attention to you, you froze. Something about the look in his eyes, it was more than attention. It was intense as if the two of you were the only ones in the world let alone the room.

More than once, Enola had cleared her throat loudly to get you and Sherlock’s attention back on her. But sometimes, she would just listen to you ramble on while Sherlock seemed enthralled in your thoughts. You mused about music and how interesting you thought his cases were. The more you spoke with him, the more comfortable you felt around him. 

Sherlock would show up now and then with little trinkets from his cases. At first, it was just things for Enola, but soon he would start bringing you little gifts as well. He started small with a single flower or a tasty treat from his favorite bakery. But soon, his gifts grew oddly specific. He bought you a brooch you had mentioned seeing at a store in the city. He would learn pieces of music from a composer you talked about and play it for you, much to the chagrin of Enola who wasn’t a fan of the violin.

It was when he didn’t visit for two weeks that you started to realize you were developing feelings for the older detective. You’d come to enjoy his presence and not because of his gifts. You just enjoyed seeing his face light up when he saw you. You relished the power you felt when the normally unflappable and distant man would sit enthralled when you gave voice to your thoughts. 

So, why did it stop so suddenly? Had you done something to offend him? 

You wracked your brain and Enola’s brain for that matter. She gave you his address so you could go and talk to him and she could finally be free of your fretting. 

You arrive at 221 Baker Street, your hands trembling as you knock on the main door. A sweet woman opens the door and introduces herself as Ms. Hudson. When you ask to speak to Sherlock, she sends you up the steps to 221B.

As you’re about to knock, a man opens the door and almost collides with you.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. May I help you, Miss?” 

“Ehm, I’m here to see Mr. Holmes…but I can come back if that’s–” You are cut off when he speaks again.

“You wouldn’t happen to be friends with Enola, would you?” You nod, giving your name, “Of course, Sherlock mentioned you. I’m Dr. John Watson, and I have to be going but you are more than welcome to come in. Sherlock is just in his room down the hall.” He points around the corner from the door and walks past you before waving goodbye.

So, that’s how you end up in Sherlock’s apartment. It is eerily quiet and you think he might be asleep. That is until you hear soft moans coming from down the hall. Your first thought is it must have been the floorboards creaking under your feet.

What you hear next is the unmistakable sound of your name followed by a whimper. It sounded like Sherlock was calling to you, but how would he know you were here already? You walk down the hallway quietly and see that his bedroom door is slightly ajar.

Peeking in, you are blessed with a sight! Sherlock is laid out on his bed with his shirt and waistcoat open, his hairy chest on full display as it rises and falls quickly. His beautiful face constricted in pain one second, solemn and peaceful in the next. His curls are a sweaty mess on his forehead. One hand is fisting the sheets at his side and the other hand is wrapped around his thick veiny dick. You’re mesmerized watching him stroke himself until you hear him moan your name again.

In a moment of bravery, you step into the room. Your bosom heaves in your bodice as you breathe shallowly, adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

His hand stops its ministrations and he looks to you as you walk towards him. He’s frozen on the spot and can only watch you as you climb atop the bed and lay next to him. You replace his hand with yours and continue to pump his dick. Your hand barely fits around him and you enjoy the feel of his soft uncut length in your hand.

His hands come up to caress your face and pull you down for a kiss. When his tongue begs for entry, you allow it in. Heatedly, you mold your mouth to his, letting your moans and whimpers be consumed by him. Breaking the kiss, he looks into your eyes and you can tell he is close.

You remove your hand from him and stand up from the bed. It is only when you remove your undergarments does Sherlock understand why you stopped. Climbing back on the bed, you settle yourself with your cunt dripping onto him.

“I want you to be certain that you–” You cut him off as you slink down, his velvety smoothness sliding inside your wet heat. You take a moment to get used to the sheer size of him. He stretches you almost painfully. Leaning down, you whisper into his ear.

“Do I seem certain, Mr. Holmes?”

Instead of an answer, Sherlock groans and twitches inside you. His hands travel under your skirt and rest on your hips. You take that as a sign and sit up. With your hands on his chest, you begin to ride him slowly, agonizingly to the point where his hands start to guide you to a quicker pace. 

Using you like a ragdoll, he flips you so he is atop you while you are on your back. He slams into you repeatedly and you are no longer in control. He savors the sounds coming from you as he fucks into you. He urges you on as he kisses and licks and nips at your neck, careful not to leave any marks.

Pulling out, he moves you to your hands and knees before inserting himself again. The angle allows him to go deeper and you thank the Gods for it. As he holds onto you, he hammers into you. The filthy utterances that come from his mouth only serve to solidify the notion that he missed you too.

“I knew you would feel like Heaven, my sweet angel…”

“This pretty pussy belongs to me now…”

“You would look so perfect with my cum dripping out of you…”

“I could fuck you all day and night and still never get enough of you…”

“Be my good angel and come all over my cock,” He reaches down and rubs your clit between two fingers as he plows into you. You never stood a chance, your walls quivering around him within moments, “That’s my good girl. So good…for me. Fuck, so close!”

“Sherlock, please! Need you to fill me with all you have to give!” You surprise yourself and your lover with those words. 

Sherlock’s answering grunts as he makes mincemeat of your pussy are music to your ears. His punishing thrusts falter and he pulls you flush to him. He’s deep enough to kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick. You feel him swell inside you and it’s enough to make you climax again, milking him through his release. 

And the noises he makes when he comes are more intricate than the 24 Caprices. You’re sure that Sherlock would disagree but you don’t even care. You revel in the melody of his moans and surrender to its hold on you.

Sherlock’s hands roam over your back, your hips, your ass, and your thighs. As if he can’t get enough of you. He doesn’t pull out until you wiggle your hips, a sign that your legs are tired. Extricating himself from your sensitive folds allows his spend to escape. He catches what slips free and pushes it all back in before helping you lay down on your front.

He lays down next to you, pulling you close to him with one arm while the other rests behind his head. He looks so peaceful as he closes his eyes and hums. The feminine urge for pillow talk is high, but so is the need to just bask in this moment.

You’re in the arms of the man you care for, who also adores you. You rest your cheek on his shoulder and tangle your fingers in his chest hair. You breathe in his smell, his pheromones are surely on high alert from your activity. When he rests his head against yours, you feel at peace.

You do plan on talking to Sherlock later about everything. But, for now, you can take pleasure in the simplicity of the harmonization of your heartbeats.

A/N: The title of this fic is taken from The Neighborhood’s Sweater Weather. There is an amazing violin version of this song by Joel Sunny. And anything violin makes me think of Sherlock.

A/N: Also, I know Ms. Hudson wasn't featured in Enola Holmes, but I love her as a character and I wanted to use her.

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

[hellish-sunsets]

You're an Asshole - Pt 3 - Triumph

Pt 1 Pt 2

Summary: Adam was nothing if not stubborn and persistent, and eventually he finally manages to win her over for a night. (Or, Adam thinks he finally convinced her to fuck because he's charming or something. Man has no idea he's wrapped around her finger.)

Warnings: Cursing, Smut

Word Count: 2,845

------------------------

Alright, so Adam couldn’t get her out on the first attempt. That was fine. He could be patient, when he needed to be. He would just get her at the next concert.

But she still didn’t leave with him.

So he tried again, and again, and again. He listened to more shitty music trying to get to that bitch. He was growing… far too accustomed to those bullshit sounds some people called music. But whatever, it would be worth it when he finally won her over and proved he wasn't an asshole. They would fuck and it would be great and he could finally move on from all this.

So he remained stubborn and kept it up. After the fifth ‘accidental’ bump in at a concert, she actually gave him her number with that bright smile of his,

“I like talking to you. We should keep texting.”

Something swelled in his chest, something he wasn't really willing to name. Victory, perhaps. Progress. Her friends hadn’t looked too happy about that, but she clearly wasn’t paying much attention to their warnings. Good. As pointlessly difficult as all this was turning out to be, at least her friend's displeasure wasn’t going to make it more difficult. Stupid bastards.

She texted him infrequently, telling him about various concerts she was going to, just in case he wanted to come too. He read the latest text over, one that seemed to hold more excitement than usual. The next one was a rock concert, and she was sure he’d have a better time there than the last one. He caught himself smiling at his phone and scowled. It was just because he was getting close to winning her over, he told himself. He definitely wasn’t developing any shitty feelings for some shitty woman. She could give him that shining smile as much as she wanted, could babble on with her infectious excitement for hours, could look up at him with those warm eyes, but it wouldn’t change a thing.

And maybe if he kept telling himself that he could pretend it was true. 

Who was he kidding, of course it was true. He had given up on love after his second wife left him. But, she was still hot. He couldn’t wait to bang her. 

And he was convinced tonight would be the night! He was in his element at a rock concert. He made sure he wore his best leather jacket, the one with only one hole nobody could even notice, and a nice shirt. Well, nicer. It didn't have any holes or stains. He couldn’t stand the same for his jeans, but oh well, at the very least he can say he tried. That's more than he did for everyone else. Just to prove a point, he told himself. 

There was a knock at the door and he headed that way, pausing at the hallway mirror. He ran his hands through his brown locks, making sure it was the right amount of messy. He needed to be irresistible. He smirked at himself, satisfied. 

Show time.

—-----------------------

The air thrummed with the sound of banging drums and heavy guitar. The crowd pressed in on them, the smell of sweat and the heat of the bodies hitting them from all sides. Adam felt right at home. 

He easily made his way through the crowd, searching for his little angel. She had told him to meet towards the front, by a specific pillar. Sure enough, he found her there with her usual friends. She spotted him too, giving a bright smile and waving him and Lute over. They couldn’t talk over the music, but that hardly mattered. He could use his dashing good looks and charming personality. Body language mattered a fuck ton in these matters. 

So he gave her his own dashing smile and sauntered over to bump his shoulder against hers. He felt more than heard her giggle. Nailed it! Her friends shot him weird looks, clearly unimpressed, but Lute shot them a hard look back, leaving them at a standstill. That didn’t matter, really. He was more than happy to let Lute deal with them so he could have fun and rock out with the hot bitch next to him. Ain’t nothing like it! And she was smiling and dancing and bouncing with the music, clearly having a good time. 

And for a while during that concert, he forgot about everything. He forgot about why he was there, forgot about his attempts at manipulation, forgot about why he was trying to in the first place. The thoughts in his mind, the constant nagging that he wasn’t good enough, that he was a failure, that he was an asshole and no one would love him… nothing he would admit to, to himself or anyone else, but was still there tearing him apart inside. Those thoughts didn’t exist. All that existed was the pounding music and the angel next to him and that beautiful smile and sparkling eyes that drew him in. 

He fucking loved rock concerts! This was the shit! 

And when the music finally faded, he could feel his blood boiling. He knew exactly what he wanted and he wasn’t going to play any games about it. This was his chance. The time had come and there was no hesitating. 

He leaned over, resting a hand on her waist and whispering in her ear, and she didn’t pull away but leaned into his side, her body fitting perfectly against his. 

“Wanta take this to my place?” He said in a low, rumbling voice, and she hummed, thinking it over. It felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He may later regret how desperate he felt, but at that moment all he wanted was her, and it was a weird feeling. Cause yeah, he’s wanted to fuck plenty of bitches before, but this wasn’t quite the same, not that he was in the mindset to analyze his feelings or some bullshit like that. 

It was only a little hum before she was turning her head to whisper back in his own ear, her breath warm against his skin and sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Lead the way.”

He couldn’t have stopped smiling if he was threatened at gunpoint. His wings ruffled and puffed up and she giggled, taking his hand in hers. He led her away, giving her hand a squeeze as he went. He made sure to give Lute a grin and she nodded her understanding. He didn’t even bother looking at her friends. He didn’t give two shits about them. He was gonna get laid!

He was so fucking thankful he cleaned up his place earlier. Not that they saw it. 

The moment they were through that door she was on him, hands running up his chest before grabbing his jacket and pulling him towards her. Their lips crashed together, and shit, she had to have some flavored chapstick on or something cause fuck, she tasted like cherries. A growl was ripped out of his throat and he pushed forward, backing her into the hallway wall. She let out a small moan, opening her mouth for him, and fuck if that wasn’t hot. 

He had never been a really patient man, so he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to his room, fumbling for the light switch. And yeah, some guys liked fucking with the lights off but why on earth would he do that when he had such a fine piece of ass in front of him? No, he needed to see her, needed to see the faces she would make and the look in her eyes because he was determined to make them roll. Fuck, she would look so hot impaled on his cock.

She smiled at him, so tender and warm his thoughts stuttered to a halt. She leaned up to cradling his face in her hands, thumbs rubbing over the red in his cheeks. His breath caught in his throat as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his so gently. His tongue darted out to pick over her lips and she parted them for him. He groaned as she let him deepen the kiss once more. His hands went to her hips, pulling her body tight against his. He swallowed the little gasp she let out into the kiss. 

He didn't even know they had been backing up until she fell onto the bed, her smile turning mischievous as she dragged him along with her. He yelped in surprise, but he didn’t mind, not when she was laughing, the sound making his heart swell. And his cock. He didn’t know how to deal with the heart thing, but he had plenty of practice dealing with his dick. 

He reached for her shirt to help her undress, but she grabbed his wrists to stop him, her lips pressing against his pulse.

“You first.” She said, and it wasn’t fully a command but it felt like one. He rolled his eyes and huffed, making her giggle again.

“Fine, whatever.” But he couldn’t really bring himself to care too much when her hands were on his chest, brushing his coat down his arms. He pulled it off the rest of the way, tossing it onto the ground somewhere. He'd pick it up later. (He definitely wouldn't.) Her hands traced the edge of his shirt before diving underneath, her fingers so hot against his skin. His shirt quickly joined his coat on the floor.

“Now?” He asked with a huff, pulling roughly on her shirt. She thought for a moment and shrugged, sitting up to pull her shirt over head, quickly followed by her bra. 

Now they were talking! The sight of her laid out before him did wonders, wings spread out over his bed and tits out. God, she had the best tits, fit into his hands perfectly. So soft and warm. His lips were back on hers in an instant, all tongue and teeth as he groped her chest. She gasped and panted into his lips, hands frantically working at his jeans. His hips bucked against her hands, his cock already so hard and eager to feel her cunt around him. It sent a shiver down his spine when his cock sprang free, his pants and boxers joining her clothes on the floor with a kick.

Her hands roamed, from his stomach to his chest to his neck, pulling him closer to press her lips against her neck, making his cock twitch with the press of her hot lips against his skin. He moaned, pressing his face into the side of her neck while she lavished attention on his sensitive skin. His own hands wandered as well, roaming over her soft curves before landing on her thighs, parting them so he could sit more comfortably between, the new position perfect for grinding his throbbing cock against her pussy.

But he was an impatient man, and this was already taking much longer than he wanted. He reached down to grasp his cock, lining himself up with her wet cunt and pushing in. Her gasp and groan was straight up addictive, but not as addictive as her cunt fluttering around his cock. He pulled back and pushed in further, then further again, and he groaned into her neck before pulling away. He wanted to see the look on her face as he settled deep inside her. 

And shit, it wasn’t fair how hot she was. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” He growled, finally thrusting into her properly.

“Shit, Adam, you fit me so perfectly.” She moaned praise back, sending a delicious shiver down his spine and making him twitch inside her hot walls. The room was filled with the sound of her squelching pussy and his balls hitting her ass as he filled her and fucked her properly. Her moans and whimpers were like song, her nails digging into his shoulders, staring into his eyes and making his hips stutter. 

“So good,” he moaned, hands moving from her thighs, one settling on her waist, digging into her skin to pull her harder into each thrust, the other running up her body to her breast, messaging and playing with her nipple. “So fucking hot. Such a good slut for me, shit!”

And he did have a tendency of talking dirty when he fucked someone, but his voice caught in his throat when she reached up to cradle his face. His hips sped up at the look on her face, a mix of pleasure and so much tenderness it almost hurt, and he whined. Actually fucking whined.

“Adam,” she breathed against his lips, wrapping her legs around his hips, egging him on. “Adam, you’re so good to me. Fill me so good.” She pressed her lips against his, kissing him tender before letting him deepen it, desperate for more of her. 

He had never come so fast and hard in his life, or at least in a very long time. He buried his face in her neck again, hips snapping against her hard and fast, making her groan. He gave a final hard thrust, cock settled deep inside her as he came with a shutter and load groan. Her pussy clenched around him as he came and it felt like she was milking him of every drop. She sighed at the feeling of his come inside her, body relaxing underneath him.

But fuck, he wasn’t done. Couldn’t be. She hadn’t come yet, and if there was anyone in heaven or earth deserving of coming on his dick it was her. 

Being the first man had its benefits. He was made for fucking, to reproduce. Which meant he almost never came only once. 

She yelped as he suddenly grabbed her hips, tucking her wings in as he forcefully turned her around. He positioned her with a chuckle, chest pressing against her back, arm wrapping around her shoulders while the other positioned his dick against her cunt once more. 

“We’re not done yet.” He whispered into her ear, voice low and husky. “Not until you come too.”

He could feel his cum leaking out of her and used the head of his cock to coral it back to her entrance. He pushed it in, filling her with his cock again. Between her wetness and his come, he slid in much easier this time. He didn’t move right away, settling for grinding into her pussy as he settled himself on top of her, arm tightening around her shoulders while the other grabbed her hip, squeezing hard. She had to spread her wings out again to give him room, his own fluttering at the feeling of her body against his. She fit so perfectly under him like this. He guided her hips a little higher before thrusting into her. 

This time he didn’t bother starting slow. His movements were fast and hard, guided by the deep groans of pleasure she let out. He chuckled in satisfaction, leaning down to pepper kisses on the nape of her neck and shoulders. And while it felt good, so fucking good, her pussy was clamping around him so hard in this position, he was a man on a mission. He wouldn’t rest until she came. And based on the sounds she was making, wild and guttural, it wouldn’t be too long.

“Feel that? Feel me fucking into you? Feels so good doesn’t it?”

“Fuck!” Was all she could say, the word coming out strangled and needy, and holy shit if he thought he was addicted before it was nothing compared to this. 

“I’m going to come inside you again, shit, gonna fill you with so much of my cum. And you’re going to take it, aren’t you? Gonna take every drop I give you. Gonna come around my cock and force every drop out.” He groaned as he felt her cunt tighten around him, her body trembling underneath him as she buried her head in the pillows. Shit, it was so hot, seeing her come undone like this. 

Somehow, he managed to fuck her faster, and the sounds she made was straight up animalistic. There was no mistaking it when she came. He cursed as she clamped around him harder than ever before, pussy pulsing with the pleasure, her voice singing out her groans of release. And shit, there was no resisting that. He came again, vision going blurry as he cocked pulsed with her. 

Their bodies went limp together, both panting messes. He settled his wings around them, too lazy to get a blanket when he could stay right here, buried inside her hot pussy as they fell asleep together. It wasn’t like she was complaining, letting out a content sigh. 

“Thank you.” she murmured before she was out like a light. 

He felt triumphant and satisfied, lazily kissing the nape of her neck and behind her ears before he followed suit. 

He finally got her, and it was the best fuck he had in a long time.

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 重啟之極海聽雷/Reunion: The Sound of the Providence/The Lost Tomb Reboot/this thing has too many names

Reunion (I'm just going to call it that) is a 2020 action drama about the most specialest little babygirl in the tomb-raiding world, his two husbands, and the cadre of assorted weirdos they pick up as they try to follow a set of directions left by a dead (?) man in the thunder.

Imagine if someone showed you the Mandalorian, and you were like, gee, that was a neat little sci-fi one-shot! because you'd never heard of Star Wars. That was basically my experience watching this show, having no idea that the Lost Tomb franchise (DMBJ) was even a thing. Turns out that not only is there a whole big continuity out there with these characters, but that Reunion takes place a few years after the main story's resolution. Don't worry, though -- Reunion doesn't spoil you for that resolution. It doesn't spoil you for much, period. Look, DMBJ has a weird relationship to endings, okay?

I have written a more thorough where-to-start guide for DMBJ as a whole, so if you want to consider other entry points, well, that information is there for your consideration. Yet it is my opinion that this is the best entry into the overall franchise, and a fun thing to watch just in general, and I'm here to make my case for both of those.

The rest of this rec will assume that you have no familiarity with the DMBJ series. That's okay; you don't need any. All you need is to trust my five reasons you should watch this.

1. Old Man Yaoi

As you begin this show, you are introduced to the Iron Triangle. That's them in the picture up there. Left to right, you have: Xiao Ge, magically tattooed immortal hottie who just got back from ten years in [scene missing]; Wu Xie, our protagonist, who's just a little guy and it's his birthday; and Wang Pangzi, the literal best.

(And yes, Wu Xie is in his 30s and Pangzi is in his 40s, which is not technically old man anything, but ... look, if you watch, you'll see why I think I'm justified in calling it that.)

They are extremely married. They are a disaster trio of disasters so disastrous that no one else should ever be subjected to their chaos. They're going to make sure lots of people are, though, don't you worry about it. Sometimes those people even deserve it.

However, because the show (tragically!!) decides that Xiao Ge has somewhere else to be like 95% of the runtime, most of the relationship you get to see is between Wu Xie and Pangzi.

I'm saying this now as an old gay nerd who just this year celebrated her 15th wedding anniversary: I have never, never felt so represented in media as I have watching Wu Xie and Pangzi interact. There's a little wake-up song they sing together near the end of the show, and it just ... it packs so much character development into thirty seconds. These boys have been living adjacent lives for so long that they've made up their own little shared songs about the mundanities of daily living. That is just what happens when you marry your best friend and then decide to get old and weird together. Ask me how I know.

Look, if you want to know whether this show is for you or not, watch to the end of the first episode, to the part where Pangzi flips over the table. If your heart is filled with joy (as it should be), keep going.

Love makes a tomb-raiding syndicate family.

2. A fun-filled action-packed romp of nonsense!

If you're familiar with Hellblazer canon, this will make sense to you: Reunion is Dangerous Habits. If you're not familiar with Hellblazer canon, try it like this: Reunion is a terrible place to start because it plays on your extant affection for a character who gains a terrible status effect almost immediately. It's a also great place to start because it throws you right in the action with measurably high stakes and gives you a reason to build that affection very quickly.

I'm also going to warn you right off the bat: The plot of this show got cut to ribbons by censors.

See, the DMBJ books, being books, are allowed to get away with supernatural shit! So you've got zombies and ghosts and curses and monsters and immortality and all your other standard ooky spooky semi-urban fantasy trappings. But the DMBJ adaptations, being live-action, are heavily regulated in their content. This is why, in the early Reunion episodes, our heroes are menaced by human-looking creatures that are actually ancient mannequins made of leather that are piloted, mecha-style, by evil clams. Because evil clams are more scientific than zombies. I guess.

So yeah, the plot of this book already had to get mangled into a more "science"-compliant shape even before it made it to filming. The real problem is that a whole lot more of it got cut after it was all filmed and put together. I have read an explanation of what the actual storyline was supposed to be, and yeah, if you know what you’re looking at, you can see (and hear) the scars where major elements got hacked out with a weed whacker.

Therefore: You cannot expect this plot to make sense.

But that's okay! You're not here for the plot to make sense! You're here to watch some characters you love run around through ridiculous and sometimes beautiful labyrinths, trying to solve puzzles you're never given enough information to understand, all in search of the resolution to a mystery that had half its guts torn out before you got to see it -- and you are here to love it. If you have ever laughed and cheered your way through a Mission: Impossible film without pausing to care too much about the plot holes it’s dodging left and right, you are in the correct frame of mind to appreciate this. Just believe that whatever engaging nonsense the show tells you is correct for the time being and go with it.

You cannot watch DMBJ and care about the laws of physics. You simply cannot.

Do not, however, let me give you the impression that the shoddy plotting is accompanied by equally shoddy performances. A major part of this show’s incredible watchability comes from how the cast is shockingly good. There are some serious heavy hitters among the actors. A major part of why this Wu Xie and Pangzi are my favorite together is the incredible chops both Zhu Yilong and Chen Minghao have, to say nothing of their real-life affection for one another. (See that scar on Wu Xie's neck? That scar is there because Zhu Yilong commits to the bit.) Effortlessly charming Mao Xiaotong turns potentially irritating wunderkind Bai Haotian into a perfect precious weirdo baby. Wu Erbai's entire second-season character arc could have been unintentionally comedic, but veteran of queer cinema Hu Jun sells even the undignified moments as relentlessly tragic. And of course Baron Chen absolutely kills it with...

3. This giant fucking loser

This is Hei Xiazi. That's not his name, but it's close enough. Allow me to do a dramatic reenactment of my watching his first scene:

[camera pans over to him]

me: Ugh, I recognize this kind of wannabe badass character design. I hate his type. He's self-important, hyper-masculine, and just a big jerk, and the show thinks he's soooo cool. Barf.

[thirty seconds later]

me: Oh no. I was so wrong. I love him forever now.

This is because he is (as indicated above) a giant fucking loser. Yes, he's a good fighter who knows lots of things. He's also a wet potato chip of a man. Sure, he can get you into a headlock, but he can also annoy you into submission, and that's honestly more fun for him. My wife has used the phrase “Vash the Stampede-coded” to describe him. My wife is not wrong.

And the kind of ridiculous thing is, being such a loser is what wraps back around to making him cool again. He's a loser because he just doesn't fucking care. His masculinity is the opposite of fragile. You tell him to wear a dress and makeup, he'll do it -- and sure, he'll complain, but only because he enjoys complaining. He has no dignity. He’s tits-out. He's gender. He's the worst and also the best.

Hei Xiazi is a major character in the other installations, to the point where he and his boyfriend (more on him later) even have their own movie. But of course, I did not know this on my first watch, so I kept expecting the show to explain his whole deal. It does not, but you don't really need it to. He sees better in the dark. He doesn't age. He's a thug for hire. There, that's all the bio you need.

One of the things that makes him great is that he is the least sexually threatening person ever. Across all the properties he's in, he spends a fair amount of time with women -- sometimes in very close quarters -- and they are perfectly safe around him. I actually wrote a whole post about it once upon a time (warning for tiny spoilers for a series that isn't this one) wherein I claim that not only Xiazi but Reunion in general is the television equivalent of the shirt that says I RESPECT WOMEN SO MUCH I DON'T HAVE SEX WITH THEM.

That said, this loser does get a sort-of romance plot here -- and honestly, I find it very cute! It's not even the only instance in this series of a bisexual guy in a long-term same-sex relationship getting a girlfriend, and I like that other one too! Look, the handle of my DMBJ sideblog is @katamaricule because I joked that Wu Xie treats polyamory like a katamari, and if you don't move fast enough, you're going to be rolled right up into his gay little cuddle puddle.

This is not a show for exclusive ships; this is a show for inclusive ships. The Jiumen Association is a polycule. You don't even have to know what the Jiumen Association is to know it's true.

4. The power of friendship

This show has a lot of characters.

I'd say the supporting cast is divided into three categories: characters who have been in previous installments, characters who have not been in previous installments, and characters who probably should have been in previous installments (or at least mentioned) but who were only created for Reunion so we have to pretend like we've known about them all along.

There is no way to tell which is which -- which is part of my argument that this series makes a good entry point to the franchise.

Take Huo Daofu. Huo Daofu is a brilliant doctor masquerading as a donut stand operator who treats Wu Xie with all the cold disdain of a man confronting the person who left him at the altar years ago. On the one hand, yes! We do know Huo Daofu from a previous series, and we've known he's both a doctor and a bitch. On the other hand, oh, we have no idea why he's like this about Wu Xie, and we probably never will. The show just treats it like it's for an excellent reason, and you know what, from what you know about Wu Xie, it probably is.

Consider also Jiang Zisuan. One of the show's principal antagonists, Jiang Zisuan turns out to be the brother of ... well, let's just say it's someone whose having a brother really should have come up before this. It has not come up. (And that's even before we get into the issue of his surname.) His stated identity as that person's brother is so bizarre that my favorite interpretation is that he isn't actually that person's brother -- all the flashbacks we see are just his delusions about a relationship he's completely invented. But there's no way you'd know how fucking weird this is on your first run.

Then there's our friendly little support himbo, Kanjian, who shows up to all occasions with two tickets to the gun show and not a thought in that beautiful head. (His name just means "vest," which is par for the course when it comes to the author's naming conventions.) He was a lot more menacing in the last series (where they kept putting sleeves on him, geez), where most of what we learned about him is that you can loan him out to other tomb-raiding families. Now he's a golden retriever with great aim and a slingshot. It's an upgrade.

The trick is, you cannot be surprised when someone shows up and the show treats them like you should know who they are, even when there's no possible way you could know who they are. I mean, for heaven's sake, Liu Sang arrives in the middle of an obvious beef with Pangzi, the origins of which are never satisfactorily explained, while also having a giant do-I-want-to-fuck-him-or-do-I-want-to-be-him crush on Xiao Ge, which is also never satisfactorily explained. Whatever, you just roll with it. He's got good hearing, a bad attitude, and questionable taste in idols. Now you're good to go.

(I should throw in a special note here that Liu Sang is many, many people's little meow meow, and not undeservedly. For a fuller explanation of why that is, please consult this other post I made.)

Part of the fun of this big cast is the adorable interactions you get. All the characters have appropriately big personalities, and the show loves letting people you wouldn’t expect bounce off one another. It’s not your typical action-hero show where nothing happens without the protagonist in the room. There are lots of exciting combinations and tons of charming dynamics! Unlikely friendships form all over the place! Enemies become allies! Allies become friends! Friends become friends with other friends! Some friends become enemies again! You'll need a scoreboard to keep up!

This is not to say the show treats all its characters perfectly or equally -- one of the precious few main female characters doesn't even get a real name, for heaven's sake, and the less said about the brownface racism, the better. It is, at its heart, a dude show for dudes made in China, with all the troubling decision-making that implies. Where it does deserve credit, though, is in understanding that its supporting characters are actual people with personalities apart from their function in Wu Xie's narrative. Sometimes the show just asks "what if [random character A] and [random character B] had to interact?" and has fun considering the answer! Which is almost always a delight to watch, and sometimes even breaks your heart.

5. Amazing rewatch value!

And by this I mean the experience of watching this show is remarkably different once you have any understanding of the rest of the DMBJ universe.

For instance, there's a point where two characters are scuba-diving past some submerged coffins, and one character tells the other whose coffins they are. Working only on information Reunion has given you, you're like, oh, that's where they buried the guy who built this creepy place, that's a little weird. Once you recognize that name from other series, though, your reaction is far more, excuse me, they did WHAT to WHOSE corpses?

Or another point where a character you've already met is on a train, and there's a handsome gentleman who just happens to be riding with her. He hands her his business card! Aw, that's sweet, he seems like a nice guy! Well, no, Xie Yuchen is not nice, but he is one of our allies, and he's Hei Xiazi's boyfriend, and a lot of what he's doing hits real different when you have a fuller grasp on why he's doing it and for whom. (Honestly, a major reason to watch Reunion first is so you're not fully and appropriately upset by how your black/pink gays merely have one teeny tiny scene together.)

From the way the series treats the persistent absence of Wu Sanxing, Wu Xie's third uncle, I absolutely, 100% assumed that he was a completely new character to this installment of the series, an extremely long-lost relative that we've somehow conveniently managed to never talk about before now. So imagine my gobsmacked surprise when I went to watch a different series, set much earlier in the timeline, where the opening scene prominently features Wu Sanxing as an actual character in the present-day narrative! ...Well, sorta. Look, there's a lot of fuckery with his identity in earlier parts of the story, and fortunately you need to know none of it to understand Reunion. But when you do, it suddenly makes a lot more sense why Wu Xie talks about someone who was a major part of Wu Xie's adult life like he died when Wu Xie was nine.

AND THE FLASHBACK SCENE WHERE A-NING GETS KILLED BY THE SNAKE, AND YOU'RE LIKE, OKAY, AND THEN YOU WATCH ULTIMATE NOTE AND IT WASN'T LIKE THAT AT ALL look, I know there are kinda reasons for this, different production companies and all, but seriously, what the fuck

All of which to say is that the experience of watching Reunion the first time is, hey, this self-contained romp is a lot of fun! The experience of rewatching it after watching any of the other DMBJ installments is a transcendently wonderful head-clutching avalanche of one moment of recognition right after another.

And here's the thing: You will watch more. Reunion is a gateway drug. If you are interested enough to make it through all 62 episodes, you're going to be interested in watching more. Which is great. The English-speaking fandom needs more people. Come down into the tombs. It's great down here. We've got snakes and arguably unintentional homoeroticism. Join us. Join usssssssss

Are you ready for an aventure?

There are a couple different ways to watch the first half, but there's (weirdly) only one way to watch the second, so for both of them, I'm going to send you straight to iQiyi: Season 1 (32 episodes) and Season 2 (30 episodes).

And just so you’re ready when Reunion is done, here’s how you find the rest of the DMBJ series, in the absolutely non-chronological order in which I, personally, think you should watch them:

The Lost Tomb 2 (AsianCrush, YouTube)

Ultimate Note (iQiyi)

The Mystic Nine (iQiyi, Viki)

Sand Sea/Tomb of the Sea (Viki, WeTV, YouTube, also YouTube)

Also, there's a lot of movies and side series and other pieces that are worth seeing, and even a couple of full series I've left off the list, and you can just slot them in wherever. And maybe we'll get Tibetan Sea Flower someday? Look, hope springs eternal.

They're so perfect. Perfect triangle. Perfect boys.

[just-a-girl-who-wrytes]

Omg I just accidently found your blog and I'm so freaking happy, cause there are not enough writer who writes for Deacon 😭 unfortunately I'm super obsessed with him, with an unhealthy amount of fic ideas in my brain xD so I give it a try and send you one of those, hopefully jot annoying you with this (or with my shitty English, it's not my first language, so I'm sorry).

Well buckle up for my request:

Reader is a new Swat member and instantly everybody loves her, with her bubbly friendly self. She's bonding great with her teammates and especially her and Deacon grow super close (they develop feelings for each other but don't want to tell the each other afraid to ruin their friendship, so their feelings stay hidden). When one day a case goes sideways and it leaves her injured (maybe a concussion or something like that) Deacon blames himself for her injury and the next days he distances himself from her, cause he thinks that it is unhealthy for him to have such deep feelings for her and him constantly worrying for her wellbeing. She notices his change of behavior and she's super sad. He starts to being unfriendly to her and being a little bit of an ass?! Even alerting the other members with his behavior. The whole situation is taking a toll on her and she is starting to effecting not only her poor heart but also her health. (so maybe she falls sick, but keep it from her teammates especially Deacon, cause she thinks that after her injury during a case he thinks of her as not capable or something like that). That is until one day she doesn't show up to work which very uncommon for her, cause she's always on time and the first one at the station. They're all worrried and Hondo tells Deacon that he has to drive to her apartment. Well he tries to refuse and send Stress but Hondo insists, so Deacon drives to her apartment. He finds her suffering from a very high fever..... So maybe with a happy ending like Deacon regrets his shitty behavior, she instantly cries when she recognizes him in her feverish state, asking him why he hates her suddenly, which is now breaking his heart. He cares for her and nurses her back to health, or at first tries to bring her fever down. Later he confesses why he was an asshole.

Soooorry it's so long. There's so pressure for you to write this. Maybe you just want to use some ideas? Well I would be so happy.

Please take care lovely

Here you go, hope you enjoy!

“Nice!” Luca exclaimed as the team watched you send rounds down range from your firearm.

With the increase in officer related shootings, LAPD had decided to provide each team a SWAT medic and you were the newest member of 20 squad. 

“Who knew girls can shoot?” You heard Deacon asked. You turned to playfully scowl at him and noticed him wink at you. 

“Better watch it, Kay, or I’ll show you just how good I really am.” 

You had been a part of the team for just over two months and they were the best guys you had ever worked with in your career. You truly became a part of their family – you had their backs and they had yours. There was one that was different though. 

David Kay. 

You had noticed him watching you on more than one occasion, stealing winks from you, sharing small, flirtatious smiles. You weren’t sure if your attraction to him was mutual or not, but if you had to guess, you would say yes. However, you didn’t want to complicate anything by dating one of your teammates and you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had developed with Deacon. You assumed Deacon adopted the same mindset because he never brought it up either. 

However, that didn’t mean your flirting with each other fell on blind eyes. 

The entire team noticed it and often gave you both shit over it. 

You both were in the middle of denying another teasing round of friends with benefits accusations from your teammates when you were dispatched to a school shooting. 

The mood immediately sobered up as all of you put on your gear and grabbed your bags and firearms. The ride to the school in Black Betty was quiet minus updates from Hondo. 

“Stay liquid, guys,” He told the team as you pulled up on scene. 

There were multiple reports of injured children inside of the school. 

This call was all yours. 

It was going to be your job to go inside and assess each injured child to see how critically injured they were. It was your team’s job to protect you while you did that. You were going in without any knowledge of where the shooter was, but you knew if you had children, you would want someone to go in and save your baby. You swallowed your fear and prepared to do your job. 

You got out of the armored truck and took your spot in the middle of your team. You slowed your breathing down to get your heart rate under control and keep your emotions in check. 

Deacon made sure that he stayed close to you as you entered the school. He knew his teammates would have your back too, but he felt… differently about you. He cared about you a lot. He had quickly fallen for your smile and your personality. You didn’t let the team’s banter intimidate you one bit from the start. You were quick and witty with your playfulness with them. You were smart as hell when it came to medicine and you had proven to be a solid member of the SWAT team in training exercises and on calls you had run together. He wanted so badly to ask you out to dinner, but he wasn’t willing to change the dynamic of the team by adding a relationship to the mix. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be protective over you – whether you noticed it or not. 

That was why Deacon had taken it so personally when you were knelt down, applying a tourniquet to a fourth-grade student’s leg and got shot by the hidden gunman. His team covered him while he immediately turned to you to make sure you were okay. The round had struck your vest, but you knew it had broken ribs. The pain you felt in your side was unmistakable. Regardless, you threw your body over the child’s to protect her from the gunfire that ensued. Deacon and Luca dragged you both behind a desk behind a wall in a classroom. 

“Are you okay?” Deacon asked without taking his aim from the door way. 

“We’ve got to get her out of here.” You ignored his question as you continued to try and stop the little girl’s bleeding. 

Your voice was forced and you were breathy. 

“I asked if you were okay,” Deacon said angrily. 

“I’m fine.” You retorted. 

You soon heard Tan’s voice over the radio that the shooter had been neutralized. You didn’t know if there was more than one shooter, but didn’t see any signs of one so far. When you got the clear from Hondo, you radioed for another team to come in and get the girl out and get her to a hospital. Once she was safely removed, you resumed your formation in the middle of the team to continue to clear the school building. Deacon could tell you were injured because you didn’t shoulder your firearm correctly, but he didn’t see any blood so he let it go. He was pissed off at you for not stopping and going to get help yourself, but he was even more pissed off at himself for not seeing the gunman before he shot at you. 

It took two hours to clear the rest of the school and stabilize the remaining children. By the time you were done, you were visibly diaphoretic and short of breath. You could hardly manage three words without stopping to catch your breath. 

“20-David to command,” Deacon radioed, “We need an EMS unit to our location, we have a team member who needs to be checked out.” 

You were in pain, you couldn’t breathe, and you were pissed off that Deacon asked for EMS without consulting you first. 

“Why did you do that?!” You managed to asked through clenched teeth. “These children need those paramedics.” You took a few shallow breaths, “Not me! Cancel. Them.” 

If looks could kill, your sergeant would be the one who needed a medic unit, not you.

“Officer,” Deacon said sternly, “You look like hell and you cannot breathe.”

You started to open your mouth to cut him off, but he started speaking loudly again.

“Now, I suggest you shut up and listen to your sergeant. I am not the one who takes orders from you.” 

His harsh words hit you harder than the bullet hit your ballistic vest and left you just as speechless. David had never been so disrespectful to you. If the paramedics hadn’t arrived to assess you, you would have turned in your badge right there. You knew the rest of the team had noticed as well because they were all silent which pissed you off even more. Where was your support?

The paramedics tried helping you onto the stretcher, but you refused it. Despite not being able to speak for being short of breath. You held onto the stretcher for support and walked to the ambulance. By the time you finally made it outside to the ambulance, you were physically unable to get into the ambulance because you were hurting so bad and so short of breath. The EMS providers finally convinced you to get onto the stretcher and they were able to load you into the truck. 

When you arrived to the ER, you were taken to a trauma room due to the fact that you had technically been shot. Your chest x-ray revealed a collapsed lung due to the broken ribs. 

The rest of the team finished debriefing before being cleared to leave for the day. Hondo met Deacon in the quiet locker rooms since most of everyone else had already left. 

“Deac…” Hondo paused, knowing he needed to tread carefully, “What was up back at the school? I have never heard you speak to anyone like that – especially one of our teammates.” 

Deacon slammed his locker shut. 

“Hondo, now ain’t the time, brother.”

The lieutenant raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, I won’t press, but I do ask that you consider an apology. It was unwarranted today. We all performed immaculately given the circumstances.”

“No, Hondo. No. We did not all perform immaculately.” His tone was biting. 

Deacon walked passed Hondo and left the locker rooms. He left the station and threw his duffel bag in the backseat of his truck. He climbed in, started it, and drove to a nearby lake that off the road and would likely be deserted after dark on a week night. He parked in the dark and slammed his fists against the steering wheel in frustration. 

Tears filled his eyes as he mentally kicked himself in the ass for missing the shooter that injured you today. He didn’t fight the tears as they spilled down his cheeks. What had gotten into him? Why were you different? Why was he so upset? Why did you getting injured bother him so badly? You were okay and you were expected to make a full recovery according to Hicks. Where along the line had he developed feelings and why was he so afraid of talking to you about them?

You spent 6 days in the hospital, 4 of those with a chest tube before being discharged home. During your entire hospital stay, Deacon had not been by to see you once despite daily visits from the rest of your teammates. It made you mad, but most of all, it hurt your feelings. You really liked you sergeant – or you thought that you did. His actions since you had been injured spoke louder than any words that could have been said. 

Luca and Chris were there to take you home and help you get settled. They carried your bags in and Chris helped you unpack your things while Luca cooked supper for the three of you. Chris helped you remove your bra so you could put on a loose, comfy t-shirt. Being the only females on the squad left you two comfortable around each other. 

“That is one hell of a bruise, babe.” She said as she looked at your black and purple side. 

You had to agree – the entire left side of your torso was bruised. It looked awful. Thankfully, the doctors had been able to help manage your pain with narcotics. 

“I’m glad it finally looks worse than it feels… Which is saying a lot because it still hurts like hell.” 

You slipped on a pair of sleep shorts and made your way back into your kitchen with Chris. 

You took a pain pill and joined your teammates in your living room to eat the spaghetti that Luca made. 

“Thank you so much for taking care of me guys,” You said several hours later as you walked Luca and Chris to your door. 

“That’s what we’re here for, love,” Luca said, pulling you into a gentle hug. 

You kissed his cheek, “Supper was delicious, Dom. Thank you times a million.” 

He returned the kiss to your cheek and Chris pulled you in for a hug. 

“Call us if you need anything?” 

You smiled at her after the hug, “You know I will.” 

You settled onto your couch with a glass of wine. You knew the alcohol and narcotic wasn’t the smartest elixir, however, you needed to mask more than your physical pain. 

You couldn’t get Deacon off your mind and your heart had yet to stop hurting. Your emotional pain screamed much louder than your physical pain. 

“Dammit!” You heard through clouded consciousness. “What the fuck?” 

You felt yourself being picked up and carried to your bed. You recognized a familiar cologne but quickly disregarded the scent and winced at the pain in your ribs before drifting back off to sleep. 

You woke up the next morning nearly in tears again as you entered a coughing spell. You managed to get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen where your pain pills were, but you were scared shitless by a man sitting at your kitchen table. As soon as your heart began racing with fear, the fear subsided, realizing that it was Deacon sitting inside of your home. 

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck, David?” You held your chest with one hand and braced your broken ribs with the other. 

He didn’t answer you. 

You ignored his silence and took your morning pain medication. 

“Ya know… I said the same thing last night when I came over and found you unconscious on your couch. So, I can also say, what the fuck? What were you thinking?” Deacon’s voice grew steadily louder as he stood up and turned to you. “Pain pills and alcohol?”

You were angry. “Something to make this shit stop hurting,” You spat as you snatched up the side of your shirt to reveal your black and blue torso. 

You could tell the extent of your injuries caught Deacon off guard. His facial expression softened and he didn’t respond. 

You let go of your shirt, letting it fall back down to your waist and continued fixing yourself a glass of water to take your pain pill with. You took your medicine and continued to ignore your sergeant as you turned your back to him to get the milk out of your refrigerator to fix yourself a bowl of cereal. His hand stopped yours mid-air reaching for your cabinet. He gently held your wrist with one hand and you felt the edge of your shirt being lifted again. He let go of your hand, staring at the bruising that covered you. You could sense his demeanor soften. 

There was a long silence as he took in your injuries. 

“I’m so sorry…” He whispered. 

The tone in his voice felt like a hug to your soul. 

“Deacon-” You turned around to face him. 

“No, listen to me,” he interrupted you. “This…” He grazed his fingertip down your side, “is all my fault.”

The confusion was written all over your face. 

“I should have seen that bastard before he ever had a chance at you.” 

You began shaking your head but you weren’t quite sure what to say. 

“You’ve been an asshole to me ever since it happened, David, what the hell has changed now?” You were beginning to grow angry again. 

“Look, I am so, so sorry.” His voice was gentle. “I should have stopped that guy before he shot you. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like I did. I should have visited you in the hospital. You are a teammate and I failed you, but I really should have told you from the get-go that I have developed feelings for you.” He didn’t take a breath the entire time he spoke so you struggled to follow him, but his last sentence hit you like a ton of bricks. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Ever since you have been on the team with us, you have become more than just a teammate to me. Truthfully, I have liked you from the day that I met you and my attraction to you has only grown every single day. I like you so much more than just as a teammate. I would dare say that I am falling in love with you.” He slowly reached up to cradle your face with his hand, hesitant, wondering if you would allow him to touch you. 

You did. 

“I am so, so sorry that I have treated you so poorly this week – so wrong. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that I hate myself for not being able to protect you like I should have. I’ve been so afraid to let you know how I feel about you. I’m sorry I was more afraid of affecting the team than I was giving you the honesty that you deserve. Please, please forgive me.” 

He looked into your eyes as he nervously chewed on his bottom lip. 

“Deacon…” You said quietly, leaning into his hand caressing your jaw. 

He took a deep breath and continued, “If you don’t feel the same way, I understand, but I came over here last night to apologize and tell you all of this. When I found you passed out on the couch, barely responsive, it frustrated me. So, I stayed here last night to make sure you were okay. Please don’t be mad.” 

Silence fell between you while you considered how to respond. Given the emotions that you had worked through over the past week, going from feelings for your partner, to physical and emotional hurt, to anger towards David for not visiting, texting or calling, resentment towards yourself for having feelings towards David despite how cruel he had been to you with his absence while you had been hospitalized, you struggled to find any words.

Deacon watched you suffer through a week’s worth of feelings as he watched your eyes. You took a deep breath. 

He decided that you were taken too long to respond and if he didn’t act now, he never would. 

He leaned down and softly pressed his lips on yours. 

You instinctively closed your eyes and allowed David to kiss you. When you didn’t pull away, he parted his lips just enough to run his tongue tenderly along your bottom lip. You opened your lips, allowing him to kiss you deeper. You began to return the kiss when David went to place his hands on your waist, forgetting about your injuries. You stopped kissing him and winced. 

“God, I’m so sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, your voice shaky. 

Deacon noticed the tears that trickled down your cheeks. 

He wiped them away with his thumbs and began apologizing to you again. 

You interrupted him with another kiss. You reached up and intertwined your fingers behind his head, softly rubbing his neck with your fingertips. He moaned quietly into the kiss. He grabbed your arm and squeezed it, needing to touch you, but being mindful of your injuries. You enjoyed the feeling of his tall, muscular body, towering over yours. You felt protected. 

“Deacon?” 

He pressed his forehead to yours, brushing a stand of hair behind your ear, “Mmhmm?”

“I love you.” 

"I love you too."

[corroded-hellfire]

How would like and Ryan be when the baby kicked for the first time? Can you write a teeny blurb for it? I can imagine Eddie calling them over to feel! They’d be so happy

You say “tiny blurb,” and suddenly @munson-blurbs and I have no idea what those words mean and come up with almost 4k words hehe. We hope you all enjoy this adorable family as much as we do 🩷

Words: 3.7k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Babe, can you sit still?” you ask with a laugh. Eddie seems to be fidgeting with everything in the examining room that’s not bolted down. He’s moved the jar of cotton balls around the desk, took a part the model of the female reproductive system, and played with the spiral cord attached to the blood pressure cuff. And you’ve only been in there for a little over five minutes. “My morning sickness finally stopped, and you pacing around the room is gonna start it up again.”

“Just nervous,” Eddie mumbles, twisting his wedding ring around his finger. “What if there’s something wrong with the baby, y’know?”

You pat the space next to you, paper crinkling below your hand. “C’mere, worrywart.” You offer a small smile as he sits down. “I’m nervous, too. But everything is gonna be okay. And Baby Munson will be perfect no matter what.”

“Yeah, I know.” But he doesn’t look fully convinced, continuing to pace until the ultrasound technician finally walks in. 

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” the tech greets you with a cheery smile. She’s a woman in her mid-to-late forties and has a dark brown bob haircut. “My name is Linda. Looks like we’re taking a peek at your baby today. How are you both feeling?”

“Pretty good,” you tell her. “Second trimester has been much better than the first so far.”

“That’s usually the case, so I’m glad to hear it,” Linda says. “And what about you, Dad?”

“Um, I’m good, yeah,” Eddie says, slipping his hands into his pockets. 

“Nervous?” Linda asks with a knowing smile. “Your first?”

“No,” you say through a bout of laughter. “My first. This is his third go-around.”

Linda gives Eddie a kind smile as she sets up the ultrasound machine. “I understand. Worrying about wife and baby at the same time is a lot.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says, giving you a pointed look. You giggle and hold your hand out, which he gladly takes into his own. 

“I’ll be doing a checkup on your baby today,” Linda tells you. “Seeing how organs are developing, things like that. Are you interested in knowing the sex?”

You and Eddie had discussed that at length. There were pros and cons both with finding out now or waiting until the birth. It didn’t matter one way or the other if the baby is a boy or a girl, so you figured you might as well learn today. That would also satisfy the two curious boys at home. 

“Yes, we’d like to know, please,” you say, giving your husband’s hand a squeeze. 

“No problem.” Linda tucks her hands into latex gloves and picks up the bottle of the cold goo she’s going to be spreading on your stomach. “We ready?”

“Ready,” you say. As much as you were anticipating the coldness of the gel, it still makes you jump when it touches your skin. Eddie chuckles and rubs his thumb along the back of your hand. Linda moves the ultrasound wand around your lower abdomen, trying to get the best view of the baby. How she could tell, you’d never understand. It all looks like a bunch of wavy lines and differing shades of black and white. 

“Ah, there we go,” Linda says, pointing to the screen. “There’s your baby.”

Eddie leans in to look at the screen, the brightest grin on his face. Your gaze keeps moving from the image of your baby to your husband; his former nerves now forgotten as he looks at the child growing inside of you. The angle changes on the screen and you know even less of what you’re looking at now. A little thump thump thump sounds from the ultrasound, and your eyes suddenly fill with tears. That’s your baby’s heartbeat. This little being inside of you that you and Eddie created. It’s half him and half you. You’ve always known how life was a miracle, but having it happen inside of you makes it even more miraculous. 

“That’s a nice strong heartbeat,” Linda says. “Very good. The heart looks good. Kidneys look good. Liver, yes. And that beautiful little brain. Proud to report that the baby has ten fingers and ten toes, as well.” 

You squeeze your husband’s hand, and he bends down to kiss your forehead. “Look what we made,” he murmurs, voice catching before turning back to the technician. “Do—do you know…”

Linda moves the wand, keeping it pressed to the swell of your belly. “Seems to me like you’re having a little baby girl. Congratulations!” She beams at you both. 

“Oh, my God,” Eddie manages. Concern floods your senses as you feel him tremble slightly. “Babe, it’s a girl. We’re…we’re gonna have a daughter!”

Linda cleans the gel from your stomach, excusing herself and leaving you and Eddie alone. 

“Are you upset?” you ask, pushing yourself up. “I know you’re used to having boys, but—”

“Upset?” Eddie cuts you off with an incredulous chuckle. “Absolutely not. I always wanted a daughter, and now I’m having one with the love of my life. It’s just…a lot to take in.” He pulls his chair closer to yours and sits so he’s at your eye-level. “You’re the mother of my daughter. Do you know how goddamn happy that makes me?” 

The last sentence makes the dam burst, and a tear trickles down his cheek. “All I ever wanted was someone who loves me, who loves my kids, and now I have her and she’s giving me a baby girl.” His lips press against yours, hand cupping your face gingerly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his. “And speaking of loving your kids…how should we tell them about their new sister?”

Eddie taps his finger to his chin. “I feel like they’d appreciate something edible. Like a cupcake or something.”

“Are you just saying that because you want cupcakes for dessert?” you tease. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

Eddie picks up Ryan from the junior high and Luke from the elementary school, trying to keep the newfound secret. Ryan’s at an age where he doesn’t say much, and Luke is buzzing with excitement about an upcoming field trip to the zoo, so neither boy says anything about their dad getting them from school. 

“You guys wanna swing by Family Video and grab a movie for tonight?” Eddie asks, leg bouncing anxiously. “I think we’re gonna order pizza for dinner and have cupcakes for dessert.”

“Cool,” Ryan nods, going back to gaze out the window. 

“Dad, if you were a pizza topping, which one would you be?” Luke doesn’t even stop to let his dad answer before saying, “I think you’d be a mushroom. ‘Cause you're a fun guy!”

Ryan shakes his head, but Eddie can’t help but let out a snort of laughter. “That’s what they’re teaching you in public school these days, huh?” he asks his son. “Anything in particular you think you want to get at the video store?”

“I dunno,” Luke says with a shrug. “Oh! Can we rent Attack of the Clones?”

“I don’t think that one’s available yet, bud,” Eddie says. “Anything else? Ryan?”

“Shrek?” Ryan offers, though it sounds more like a question. 

“That’s a good one,” Luke says. “In the morning, I’m making waffles!” Luke’s Eddie Murphy impression leaves something to be desired, but it makes Eddie smile. 

Corralling the kids inside Family Video, they instantly take off in different directions and Eddie has to decide which one needs more supervision. Luke. He follows after his youngest son, watching as he scans the VHS and DVD covers that he passes. 

“Spiderman?” Luke asks, picking up the DVD case.

Eddie wrinkles up his nose and shakes his head. “Nah, not tonight.” Luke sets it back and continues down the aisle. Ryan comes over, holding a DVD in his hand. “Whatcha got, pal?”

“The Master of Disguise,” Ryan announces proudly, holding the cover up for his dad to see.

“Dana Carvey, huh? Well, isn't that special?” When Ryan looks at his father like he has three heads, Eddie sighs. “Shit, I’m getting old. Yeah, that one looks great. Luke? Find anything?”

“The Wild Thornberrys!” Luke gasps, snatching up the orange VHS tape. “This one!”

“That’s with the talking monkey and the babbling kid?” Eddie asks.

“Darwin. He’s the monkey, Dad. And the boy is Donny,” Luke informs him.

“Right, sorry,” Eddie says, though he knows he’s not going to remember it. “We ready to go?”

The Munson men arrive home just as the pizza delivery van pulls up. Eddie quickly hands him some crumpled bills from his wallet, determined to get his hands on the biggest slice before one of the kids does. 

You and Eddie can barely contain your excitement, exchanging giggling glances as the boys obliviously eat dinner. 

“So, Kyle bet me that I couldn’t climb to the top of the swingset and jump off,” Luke is saying, “and I was like, ‘duh, of course I can!’ But then our teacher caught me before I could get all the way up and I had to sit out for the rest of recess.”

Eddie rests his head in his hands. “Y’know, Wayne warned me that karma would come back to bite me for all the stress I put him through,” he mutters, but there’s a smile on his face. “When I asked, ‘what happened in school today?’, I was thinking more along the lines of tests and homework, not scaling the playground equipment like a spider monkey.”

“And just think; in about five months, there’ll be a new little Munson to test your patience,” you tease, clearing the empty plates from the table. “Are you guys ready for dessert?”

Ryan nods, wincing when Luke cheers directly into his ear. “You’re so loud,” he complains, shoving his brother away from him. 

“It’s good practice for when the new baby comes,” Eddie jokes. “Seriously, though, Luke—take it down a notch.”

“At least the new baby will have an excuse,” Ryan points out. “Luke just can’t shut up.”

“Hey!”

“Fair point, but don’t tell your brother to shut up,” Eddie says, watching as you bring out a tray of pink-frosted cupcakes. His leg bounces with anticipation. 

The boys dig in hungrily, with Luke not even bothering to peel off the wrapper until his dad reminds him. They’re too focused on the dessert to notice that you and Eddie are anxiously awaiting their reactions. 

“So,” Eddie says slyly, “why do you think the cupcakes have pink frosting?”

Luke jumps out of his seat to answer. “You’re a vampire and you put blood in it!”

“Okay, seriously? What are they teaching you in school?” Eddie muses incredulously. 

You break into the conversation in an attempt to steer it in the right direction. “Where did we say we were going today?” you try, watching as they wrack their brains. 

“To the doctor to see…” Ryan starts, eyes widening as he makes the connection. “IT’S A GIRL?!”

“We’re getting a sister! We’re getting a sister!” Luke singsongs, dancing around the table. “Now I won’t have to share with her.”

“It’s a girl,” Eddie confirms. “But you’ve still got to share, bud.”

Ryan slips out of his chair and starts to jump up and down, the most infectious grin spread across his face. “A baby girl! A little sister! Gah!” His little body looks unable to contain all of his emotions as he hops around. 

You chuckle, eyes misting over slightly. Eddie reaches for your hand and laces his fingers with yours. Luke grabs his cupcake and goes to continue his dancing with it, until Eddie stops him.

“Butt in the seat if the cupcake is gonna be in your hand,” he tells his son. 

“Is there a picture?” Ryan asks as he takes his as well, wanting to partake in the dessert. “Of the baby?”

“There is,” you tell him. “But let’s wait until we’re done eating and our hands are clean before we get it out.”

“Do you have a name yet?” Luke asks, face somehow already smeared pink. 

“Daddy and I have been talking over some names for a few weeks, but we haven’t decided yet,” you say. 

“How about Matilda?” Luke asks, making you giggle.

“Luke, do you think she’s going to be a little witch?” you ask.

“Could be,” he answers with a shrug.

“I’m veto-ing Matilda,” Eddie says. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Is that so?” you challenge.

“The only reason you’d want it now is because I said no,” Eddie says, wrinkling up his nose and sticking his tongue out at you. 

“I like Rachel,” Ryan says. “It’s a pretty name.”

“It is pretty,” you agree. “But how about we finish these cupcakes so we can go watch a movie?”

“Madeline?” Luke suggests.

“Eat your pink dessert, you rugrat,” Eddie tells him. 

As Eddie stands up to begin collecting dirty plates, you go and grab the sonogram picture out of your purse. You sit back down at the table, and a boy stands on each side of you as you show them the image. 

“What am I supposed to see?” Luke asks. 

“See that little white spot right here?” you ask, pointing with your pinky finger.

“Uh huh,” Luke says.

“That’s the baby.”

“Looks like a peanut,” Ryan says, making you laugh.

“I guess it kind of does, doesn’t it?” 

“Cutest peanut I ever saw!” Luke announces. 

Eddie cleans off the table, throwing away any garbage, and wrapping up the remaining cupcakes to be eaten at a later time. He shooed you out of the kitchen, insisting you go sit on the couch and make the boys entertain you until he returns. Honestly, he’s just curious as to what you’d ask of them in terms of amusement. When he walks into the living room, Luke is sitting on the ground, shuffling between the few movies he’d rented at Family Video with them today. You’re sitting down, Ryan tucked up between you and the arm of the couch. Your bump has just started becoming noticeable through your clothes, and Eddie took every opportunity that he could to stare at it. Seeing the reminder that you’re carrying his baby made him so giddy. 

Luke seems to have settled on a movie, so Eddie crosses the room and takes a seat next to you. He immediately lifts his arm and you snuggle up against his side. Your husband’s soft lips press against your temple, and you let your eyes slip closed with an easy smile on your mouth. 

“What’re we watching?” Ryan asks.

“The Wild Thornberrys movie,” he replies. Once the movie is in, Luke grabs the remote and settles down on the other side of his dad. He presses play on the remote and tugs the blanket that’s resting on the top of the couch into his lap. You feel a weight pressed on your side, and look down to see Ryan leaning against you, cuddling in to get comfy. 

“What about Ariel?” Luke asks as he fast forwards through the previews. 

“What?” you ask. 

“For the baby,” Luke says. “What about Ariel?”

“First a witch, now a mermaid,” Ryan mumbles from the other side of you.

“There’s plenty of time to talk about names, Luke,” Eddie tells him. “Let’s just watch the movie.” Secretly, he’s pleased that they’re both so happy to have a sister. 

A warm, cozy feeling floods your body when he instinctively rests his ringed hand on your bump. You’re so relaxed and surrounded by so much love—and completely exhausted from being pregnant—that you start to fall asleep twenty minutes in. 

Your eyes are fluttering shut when you feel it: a tiny kick in your lower abdomen. Both you and your husband sit up straight, suddenly wide awake. 

“Was that—” he starts at the same time you say, “Did she—”

“What happened?” Ryan asks, drawing his attention from the Thornberry family’s chaos. 

Eddie smiles, rubbing the spot where he felt the baby. “I think your little sister is trying to show off her karate moves.” 

Luke wrinkles his nose. “How did she learn karate?”

“He means that she kicked me,” you explain with a giggle. Eddie just tucks his head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you. 

“Does it hurt?” Concern is written all over Ryan’s face as he scoots over a little, now unsure of his proximity to you. 

“Not really; kinda feels like a little flick from the inside,” you say. “But she still hasn’t fully developed her feet yet. I’m sure I’ll really feel it then.” You watch as he nervously plays with his fingers. “Do you wanna see if she’ll kick for you?”

Ryan hesitates at first, glancing at his dad. 

“It’s okay, bud,” Eddie tells him. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Totally up to you.”

“No, I wanna see. As long as you promise it doesn’t hurt,” Ryan says, turning to you. 

You hold up your pinky and he does the same so you can pinky-swear on it. He gingerly puts his palm near your belly button, frowning when nothing happens. 

“Maybe she’s sleeping,” he muses. 

“Try this,” Luke says, bounding over to you and leaning in close to your stomach. “Hi-yah!” He punctuates the sound with something resembling martial arts, making everyone laugh. 

And then you feel another kick. 

“Hey,” you say with a chuckle. “That worked, Luke.” The little boy gives you a triumphant smile.

“I didn’t feel it,” Ryan says, a frown pinching his features.

“It was a little more this way,” you say, sliding Ryan’s hand closer to the spot where movement is occurring. “Why don’t you try talking to her, too?”

“Can she hear me?” Ryan asks, looking up at you.

“Last time I saw the doctor she told me that the baby can hear my heartbeat. That must mean her little ears are growing. Go ahead, give it a try,” you encourage. 

Ryan nods and lowers his head to be closer to your belly. “Um, hi. I hope you can hear me.”

“She doesn’t speak English yet,” Luke says. Eddie reaches out and tugs his younger son into his lap.

“She can tell by the sound of your voice,” Eddie says. “So hush.”

“I’m your big brother,” Ryan continues. “Well, the older one. I can’t believe you’re my baby sister in there.” 

You turn your head to share a look with Eddie. Though you’re both feeling the same warm, loving feelings about this tender moment, Eddie’s reaction is a beaming smile, while your hormones are making you react with tears. Your husband reaches up and gently wipes your tears away. There’s another kick, and this one makes you giggle. Ryan’s face lights up in delight. He stares at your bump, then up at your face.

“I felt it! She likes me!”

“Sweetheart, she loves you,” you tell him, moving some hair off his forehead. “You’re her big brother.”

“Hi, baby,” Luke says, leaning down in Eddie’s lap to talk on a more even level with your belly button. “I’m Luke, your other brother.” He pauses and looks up at you. “Can I feel?”

“Of course,” you say, and guide one of his small hands right next to Ryan’s. “Go ahead, keep talking to her.”

“I know you’re a girl, but maybe you’ll like my Hot Wheels, too.”

“Thought you weren’t going to share with her?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow.

“This is between me and my sister,” Luke says, causing you to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. “If Dad’s too old, I can teach you lots of fun stuff. Like sports and bikes and different games.”

“How old does this kid think I am?” Eddie mumbles to you. You press a kiss to his cheek just as the little lady decides to make her presence known yet again. 

“I felt it! I felt her kick!” Luke grins, his little hand rubbing over the spot on your tummy where he felt it. “That’s so cool! I think she’s gonna be a soccer player.”

“You ready to be a soccer mom?” Eddie teases, and you flick his nose. You’d be giving him a much different gesture with your finger if the boys weren’t around.  “Gonna trade in your sedan for a minivan?”

After the excitement of the baby’s movements has calmed down, everyone settles back into their spots on the couch to watch the movie. Ryan shifts a bit before speaking up. 

“How about Eliza?”

“Hm?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair. 

“For the baby’s name. Like Eliza Thornberry,” he elaborates, a sweet smile on his face. “She’s good with animals and nice to people. And it’ll remind us of the first time we felt her kick.”

You and Eddie exchange amused glances. “I actually kinda like it,” he says with a shrug. “Let me try it out: Eliza Munson, did you finish your homework?” he bellows in a deep, dramatic voice before grinning widely. “Yup, that works.”

“I think it’s definitely a contender,” you tell Ryan. 

“Or,” Luke pipes up, raising his eyebrows. “We could name her Donnie.”

“Yeah, that’s gonna be a no,” Eddie laughs, ruffling Luke’s curls when the boy starts to pout. “But you can help brainstorm a middle name.”

That seems to placate him long enough to finish the movie. Everyone is yawning by the time the credits roll; you can barely find the energy to stand up and brush your teeth. 

You’re getting into bed when Eddie walks in the room. He’s wearing a thin white undershirt and flannel pajama pants that sit low on his hips. If you weren’t about to pass out, you’d rip them off of him. 

“So, the boys seemed happy to have a sister,” he says, twisting the rings from his fingers and placing them on his nightstand. 

You nod. “I was worried that they’d be upset about having another girl in the house.”

“Nah,” Eddie shakes his head, sliding in next to you. “They already have a brother. Now, if the next Baby Munson is another girl, we might have a problem.”

“The next Baby Munson?” you echo incredulously. “Can I just get through labor with this one first before we talk about another?”

“Aye aye, captain.” Eddie kisses your forehead and pulls you in towards him, automatically assuming the big spoon position. “Good night, Mama Munson.” His hand travels to the swell of your belly as he adds, “and good night, Eliza.”