#I’ve been trying to keep my mind open while watching psych cause I know a lot of people don’t like Henry

[theshadowrealmitself]

I’m glad that Henry turned the job offer down, he doesn’t even actually help them that much, he’ll usually just go “Shawn I’m not a part of this >:(“ then bring up hats or maybe something mildly useful and that’s it!

Which is fine since it’s not his job, it’s Shawn’s, but oh my god I did not like Chief Vick thinking he helps way more than he actually does

[unwrittenlibrary]

all this devotion is rushing out of me

summary // Bucky Barnes is beautiful. No ifs, ands or buts. But there was something exceptionally beautiful about him that you were desperate to see. (bucky x fem!reader)

or; bucky barnes blushing is reader’s kryptonite and all she wants is to see it.

words // 2.0K

warnings // (hi there is a brief brief allusion to a breeding kink in this but i don’t write smut so it’s nothing graphic) mentions of pregnancy & sex 

notes // my second b.b fic also originally posted on my ao3 happy reading! i have more in the works! 

Bucky Barnes is beautiful. There’s no doubt about that in your mind.

From his newly cropped hair to the smile lines forming around his eyes. Down to the stunning metal arm and god his thighs.

Bucky Barnes is beautiful.

But your favorite part, the thing of his that you find most beautiful, are his flushed cheeks and embarrassed smiles.

The way he turns red from the tip of his ears to the apple of his cheeks and turns his eyes away with a small, embarrassed smile always makes your stomach flutter. It was so beautiful and rare that when it did happen, you just wanted to bring it back.

So while visiting Sam and Sarah, Mission Blushing Barnes, was born in your mind. You didn’t really want to embarrass him, far from it, so you knew you didn’t want to do anything in front of Sam or any of Sam’s family. But, fuck, watching him play with the boys and make himself at home with the Wilson’s had something growing in your chest.

And you wanted to see him blush. If only to end the day on a high note. So you waited and waited. Until finally, it was you and him sitting on the edge of the dock talking about nothing.

“Louisiana’s nice, isn’t it?” He asks quietly as he watches the sun set. You nod but don’t respond, too busy admiring his side profile.

The slope of his nose and outline of his lips has your mind jumping for joy that he’s yours. That he’s the man you get to wake up to and comfort. You smile when he turns to look at you, bemused by your silence. “What’s up, doll?”

You reach out to place a hand on his cheek. “Just admiring you. So pretty.” You keep your eyes focused on his face, expecting a blush at the term pretty instead of handsome. All that comes though is a snort. You drop your hand with a frown.

Bucky rests a hand on your waist and drags you closer to him. “Gotta do better than that, doll. You’ve been calling me pretty for months now. I’m used to it.”

You open your mouth in faux shock. “I have no idea what you mean.” You say in a pitched voice as you rest your head against his shoulder.

Bucky shakes with laughter. “I know you like making me blush. Gives you some sick power high.” He mumbles the words into your hair as he gives you a kiss.

You smile. You know there’s no menace behind his words. You can tell from his relaxed body language and quiet tone of voice your little mission doesn’t bother him all that much.

“Is that a challenge, Sergeant Barnes?” You glance up and Bucky looks down at you exasperated. For a moment, you think the red will appear and you’ll have won a bet before it’s even begun. But…

A smirk slides onto his face, something cocky and bright, that makes your stomach clench excitedly. “Calling me sergeant outside the bedroom isn’t gonna make me blush, sweetheart.”

You laugh softly and Bucky presses another kiss to your hair. “What do I win if you can’t make me blush by the end of the night?” He asks after a moment of silence.

You purse your lips and think for a moment. “What do you want?” You ask when nothing comes to mind. “Because I know when I win, you’ll be worshipping me.”

“I do that anyways.” He says immediately, making you laugh.

“I mean… I’ll be in charge.” You clarify with a raised eyebrow. Bucky bites down his lip to stop a smile and you hope that the blush appears just from the mention of you taking over for the night.

He shakes his head. “And if I win, you wear that suit Sam made you.” You watch as his eyes flicker over you body, definitely imagining the skin tight suit Sam had made as a joke after your complaints of how fictional heroes dressed. You had laughed and Sam had given you the real suit moments later, the skin tight suit had been stuffed into your closet and all but completely forgotten. 

“Sounds like a bet to me.” You pull back from his shoulder and hold your pinky out. “How about it, Barnes?”

Bucky leans down so his forehead rests against yours and with a wide smile he interlocks your pinky with his. “You’re on, sweetheart.”

The two of you just look at each other for a moment, until Sam’s voice breaks the comfortable silence. “Hey, weirdos! Come on, Sarah’s pulling out dessert!”

You scrunch your nose before hopping up. You don’t bother to pull Bucky with you, knowing his strength alone would probably end up sending you into the water. “Come on, baby, maybe we can steal some whip cream.” You wink as you walk backwards.

Bucky only laughs loudly and follows you. He reaches a hand out to stop you from walking off the dock and forces you spin around. “Strike one.” He whispers into your ear before running ahead of you to meet Sam.

You roll your eyes. Strikes weren’t a part of the bet and he knew it. He just wanted to psych you out. But you knew you could get that man to blush, you just had to find new material.

And you tried.

Leaning over when Sarah handed the ice cream and whispering as quietly as possible so only he could hear. “Forget the whip cream, ice cream might be a better bet.” Bucky looked down and shook his head before taking a bite of your chocolate.

Running your hand down his metal arm as you walked back to the Wilson’s. “Wonder what this arm could do to me.” Bucky had just looked down at you disappointedly. “You already know.” He hadn’t turned red, but you felt a little hotter.

You had even brought up the idea of sneaking in some adult time after the house was asleep. That had just gotten you a shocked stare as he pointed out the kids who slept upstairs.

It was getting late and you were getting desperate. It’s not that you really cared if you won or not, you know if there was something you truly wanted to try that Bucky wanted to as well, you would. You didn’t even mind the idea of wearing the suit for Bucky. The thought of wearing it even if you won had crossed your mind. You really just wanted to see his pretty face all red.

Then, the perfect thing happened. The kids were excited to mess around with Sam and Bucky. Both men were equally as excited to show off the shield and metal arm.

You hadn’t even started watching to find something to make Bucky blush, his bright smile and excited laughter as he and Sam pretended to fall to the boys power is what made you think.

Bucky wanted his own family. You knew for awhile Steve had been part of his family and when he come out of HYDRA, Steve was all that was left of it. He had you and he had the Wilson’s. But the two of you had spoken at length about your future and plans for your own family together. He was going on less and less missions and you had a steady job, so starting a family now made sense.

And you knew how you could bring it up and make him blush. It was an obvious win-win situation. 

“Buck!” You call out. His attention is immediately turned on you as he stands up straight and finds your eyes. You wave him over and laugh as the boys tease him about being in trouble.

You’re standing on the back stairs and end up being a step above him when he comes to a stop in front of you. His hands come to rest on your waist naturally as he looks up at you.

“What’s up, doll? Not in trouble, right?” He smirks and takes a step closer.

This time, you match his smirk with your own. You rest a hand on his shoulder and one on the back of his neck. “Not at all, Buck. Just wanted to tell you something.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughs gently. “You panicking? Cause I’m gonna win this bet?”

You hum in response and bend so you’re at eye level with him. “Was just thinking of how good you look with kids. I think you’ll make a great dad one day.”

The cockiness is wiped from Bucky’s face and replaced with a look much softer. “You think?” He asks quietly.

You nod excitedly. “Of course. I think you’ll make an amazing dad. I can’t wait to start a family with you.” You take a step down, so now you have to look up at Bucky. His eyes follow you happily. “In fact, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You pause and Bucky furrows his eyebrows. You can tell he’s a little confused on where you’re going and that now he’s not even thinking about your silly little bet. Then you smile. “All I’ve been thinking about all day is you putting a baby in me, Bucky Barnes. I want it so bad.” You say the words softly as you flutter your lashes and smile alluringly.

Bucky’s eyes widen and he takes a shocked step back before looking down at you. Then you see it, starting from the tips of his ears and spreading over his cheeks. Bucky Barnes turns redder than you’ve ever seen.

“You…” He stutters as he looks around, like he wants to make sure that nobody heard the words that have just come out of your mouth. “Evil woman.”

You take a step forward to press a kiss to his lips. You can tell by his embarrassed smile that he can feel the flush on his cheeks. “Guess I get to be in charge when we get home.” You take a step back and turn to head back inside.

You feel a hand grip your own and look back at him. “Are you serious? About wanting a baby?” He asks almost shyly, like he’s worried the answer might be no.

You can’t even allow him to entertain possibility. You nod quickly and excitedly. “Of course I was, my love. I wouldn’t pull that out just to win some silly bet.” He lets go of your hand and an excited smile spreads across both your faces.

“Yeah? Gonna let me put a baby in you?” He asks, this time more excitement than embarrassment seeping into his tone and taking over his face. He moves to wrap his arms around your waist and you do the same.

“Yeah. I just might.” You scrunch your nose up at him and he does the same in return. “Might even wear the suit for you anyways, since you’ll be doing me such a favor.” You wink and Bucky laughs again. The two of you have gotten the attention of Sam and his nephews, but you’re sure they can't hear anything you’re saying.

“Think it’s you doing the favor.” Bucky leans in close and lowers his voice. “Having my baby. I know you’ll look beautiful. Fuck. I’m about to get us a flight home tomorrow.”

You feel heat on the back of your neck and butterflies in your stomach as you process Bucky’s words. “Gonna build our own little family, Barnes. Better get ready.” You laugh giddily as you lean forward to rest your forehead against his.

Bucky closes the small gap between you with a hard kiss. You press your body against his as he holds you tighter. The two of you are completely unaware of Sam’s shocked face or his hands rushing to cover the two children’s eyes.

“Gross!” He yells out and the two of you spring apart with embarrassed smiles. Bucky’s cheeks turn red again and that only makes you want to kiss him more. “That’s gross. There are kids here. And me. Nobody wants to see that.”

Bucky presses a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling away entirely. “I’ll see you later?” He asks as you begin to head back inside.

You nod with a mischievous smile. “I’m gonna go look at flights. I’m ready to be home with you, Sergeant Barnes.”

You laugh when a light blush graces his face again before he spins around and rushes back over to Sam and the boys. Sam punches him on shoulder and you can see the beginnings of a lecture, so you turn and rush up the stairs and head inside.

You rest a hand on your stomach. You’re unsure if it’s to quell the excited butterflies or because of your new plan to have a baby, but either way it makes you smile as you think.

Bucky Barnes was pretty when he blushed. Even prettier when it was the thought of having a baby with you that made him do it.

You would have fun with this.

-

notes // try and tell me the idea of only u being able to make bucky blush doesn’t make u warm inside u CAN’T! 

[cinnamonest]

I feel like I’ve found my kin, I fell in love with Kakashi when I was like 8 LOL. Can I request some general yandere Zoro headcanons btw? I loved/still love him too 😶

Yes you may ahhh!!!! I love Zoro so much. I love writing for fandoms like this bc shounen anime are... Well, shounen, they're aimed at dudes, so they tend to not have as large of a female audience so there's not a lot of content out there. I love Luffy and there's like zero girl-targeted content for him. I swear I've spent so much time looking for wholesome, decent LuNa (my otp im sorry i just hhhh) doujins that aren't super male-oriented, and there's like... 2. For a 900+ episode anime. 2.

I also love the concept of a yandere in a situation where they CAN'T kidnap you, they're limited by their circumstances, so they have to kind of adjust or go insane. It's an interesting dynamic because it eliminates the norm for yanderes.

I think I mentioned this but I'm not 100% caught up with one piece (I mean, who is?), so I'm just keeping it simplistic and going with kinda basic Zoro and nothing with specific character developments or any spoilers other than his backstory

Yandere Roronoa Zoro (One Piece)

Tws: all the usuals -- yandere, noncon, kidnapping

He meets you while he's lost. I'm sorry I just. Zoro gets lost in the middle of some place they're docked, and you're just such a sweetheart, you see this guy clearly not knowing where he's going, and offer to help him. He's kind of taken aback by your softness and sweetness.

He's not easily made aware of his own feelings. He's a rough and tough sort of guy, and he has dedicated himself to swordsmanship so much that he's neglected to focus on himself and his interpersonal relationships, and he's not really self aware at all of his own feelings, very out of touch with his emotions.

Obviously, even if he tries to shove it down, Kuina weighs heavily on his mind in relation to you. He's another man that has known loss and it's dealt its damage on his psyche. He can't lose another person who's dear to him again.

This results in him becoming insanely protective, one of the most protective yans out there. He's easily one led into paranoia delusions regarding your safety. However, he's an honest and reasonable guy and can be level-headed when confronted. If someone (not yourself, as he thinks you're naive, but maybe another girl like Nami or Robin) tells him he's being overprotective and exaggerating about your safety, he may actually have a moment of self-realization and admit to it. He's capable of being reasonable enough to see it once it's pointed out to him. However... this doesn't stop him. He tries, really, he genuinely tells himself that he needs to stop. But his instincts just kind of take over. It's an impulse, to stop you from doing even the most slightly dangerous things.

Once you join the Straw Hat Crew, he just kinda... clings. It's a silent presence, but he's always there, constantly seems to show up wherever you are. Unfortunately, you can't really... get away from him per se. You're kinda limited to one ship, at least as long as you're out on the sea. Your only option for respite is going to your room or bathing, otherwise, he's gonna follow you, even if he's not saying anything and (very badly) trying to feign indifference, pretending you just happen to be going the same way all the time. He doesn't really know what to say, he's not good with these things, and often he's acting without really thinking too much about it. He won't usually strike up a conversation, he just... is there. Watches. May awkwardly ask a question or make a passing comment.

One scenario I imagine is you jokingly picking up one of his swords and wielding it around giggling and he just flips out, takes it from you and yells at you not to do that, are you an idiot? Do you want to trip and fall and have that impale you? Do you realize how easy it would be for you to slice your arm open by accident? It's startling to both you and anyone watching -- even for someone who gets yell-y as easily as him, it seems like an overreaction. He'll apologize but insist it's a safety thing, really.

And he really tries to hide his more... aggressive nature, because he thinks it will drive you away -- he's a blunt, tough guy with a short-fused temper, and he thinks that's definitely not something women like very much. He tries not to yell at you, not get mad so easy, keep his calm better around you, and might even be nicer to others so that you don't think he's mean. And for the most part, he can manage that. Except when it comes to a very specific, very problematic blonde crew member. His little conflicts with Sanji get worse, to even a point that he's snapping at him so frequently that even Sanji himself is a bit bewildered and caught off guard by it. The others notice they fight a lot more often... and Zoro always seems to instigate it, picking quarrels over the littlest things. In reality, he's afraid of the other's... sleazy nature. He can't have you falling for that bastard. He even starts to get jittery when you're in the presence of Franky, Usopp, hell even Luffy of all people. It's noticeable, and everyone kinda worries for him.

He kicks himself for it as soon as he does it, but he finds himself insulting you nonetheless. It's a terrible habit. He gets so awkward and flustered that it's second nature for him to say something snarky or even rude when you talk to him, and he immediately is just mentally screaming at himself for doing so. This will get a bit better with time, though, if you two talk more often.

Now, even if you can fight, you're never gonna really get the opportunity. In battle, he's clinging to you and protecting you at every moment, even if it costs the others some unnecessary wounds. It's highly uncharacteristic of him, and they notice. He won't leave your side, insisting that you're a weak fighter and that he has to take care of you. You just don't get it, you overestimate yourself, you underestimate your enemies, you're a girl. What, Nami and Robin? Well, they've been at this much longer than you, and they had rough upbringings. You're different. You're soft... fragile. You just can't see it. You're lucky he's here to protect your dumbass.

Due to your setup, well, he can't really kidnap you per se. He undoubtedly would if you two were somewhere else, in another life or another setting, but that's not really an option, and even as a yandere, he would never go so far as to kill or abandon his crew. So, he's stuck with just... slowly, slowly mentally deteriorating.

Now, he's not capable of kidnapping, he's not smart enough to really manipulate you into anything (although he WILL tell you that some of the other guys are out to use you), so, he's left to be the guard dog he inevitably becomes to you. If you avoid him, he'll just follow you. If you don't talk to him, that's ok. If you confront him, he'll just insist he has no idea what you're talking about, and you'll start to feel like maybe you're just paranoid. The others... don't really know what to do, to be honest. I can see Nami/Robin potentially confronting him, but in the end, they can't force him to change his behaviors, and they can't afford to lose him. This results in, gradually, everyone slowly kind of accepting your dynamic onboard. They feel bad for you, really, but... in the end, Zoro's just more valuable to the crew. Sorry. They're not gonna get rid of him, but they don't want to get rid of you either.

If you leave? It may just be one of the very very few things that could ever cause him to leave the Strawhats. It would tear him up, really, it goes against his dreams, his pride, his loyalty, but in the end... his loyalty is first and foremost to you. He'll follow you if you leave. It's a bad move on your part, because this gets rid of the only thing standing between you and kidnapping. Which, at that point, surely will happen. Like his other behaviors, he'll feel bad, he'll try and stop himself, tell himself it's wrong, but you'll end up bound in some dark basement nonetheless. He's one to take a very simple approach. Find you alone, sling you up and over his shoulder and carry you off before anyone can come.

Rejection doesn't faze him. No matter what, he'll remain by your side. Even if you never love him in return. It's just his nature, he's a guardian through and through.

In the end, he'll be right there by your side, scaring off any competitors, clinging to you like glue, ever in your presence like a shadow, forever. Whether you want him to or not. He's just an inescapable force, an unmovable object, and you're wasting your time trying to change your fate.

Now, he's very flustered with anything sexual. Highly embarrassed, lots of shame, and doesn't talk much about it. It just kind of happens. He doesn't talk much during, mostly grunts and the occasional fuck when you clamp down, occasionally asking you if you're ok, if it hurts, if it feels good. It's one of the only very soft sides of him. In the end, he really, truly loves you, and doesn't want to hurt you, he wants you to feel good and just love him. It's a very different side to him, one no one else has ever really seen, it's the most vulnerable he himself has ever been with another person.

He feels shame for it, but initially he'll definitely be one to steal your things, sit outside of your room at night, listening to you through the wall, try and get glimpses of you bathing or dressing. He really, really feels guilty, and he's one that will, once you're comfortably restrained and never going anywhere, just sit down and list out every nasty little thing he's ever done regarding you, just to get it off his chest. He understands if you react badly, and he'll apologize, which is a bit ironic considering how much worse kidnapping you is.

He'll apologize for that, too. He's actually one to do so a lot. He's normally a proud guy, but with this? He knows it's wrong, he knows it's fucked up. He knows he can't stop. And he'll be sorry to the moon and back. Just never sorry enough to stop.

He's actually a pretty vanilla guy. Hand-holding missionary type. And, despite being so embarrassed over it all, oddly romantic about it. It's one of the only things he's ever soft and gentle about, it's almost unbelievable to you that he's capable of being so gentle and slow with anything. But he'll kiss your forehead, really take his time with it all, make you cum on his fingers before ever actually fucking you. Hold your hand, look into your eyes. It would be honestly incredibly sweet if it weren't... you know, taking place in some dark sealed off room after dragging you there against your will.

If he's particularly mad, he can get rougher, but he'll apologize after. It's a lot of harsh grabbing, biting, it leaves bruises that he'll rub over softly, whispering an apology, even if a little part of him likes the way it looks on you.

[queenmylovely]

Would you have any thots to share about....blowing ben perhaps? 👉👈maybe a first time blow job? 😘

well what do you know, I do! (smut, 2.8k words, 18+, gender neutral!reader)

☆☆☆

You were not the first serious relationship for your first serious boyfriend, but you didn’t mind. You liked that he had ironed out a couple of the little things that there always were in new relationships (or so you assumed) before so that when they came up in yours at least one of you knew how to deal with them. It also meant that he had more experience with… certain things, whereas you were lacking. You definitely weren’t lacking in enthusiasm, though.

As soon as you felt comfortable with the idea, you put it to your boyfriend. The two of you were cuddling on the couch, just watching some game show you liked when you came to the decision that you were ready.

“Ben?” you asked to get his attention, turning to look at him fully, his arm around your shoulders falling to your waist with the movement.

“Yeah babe,” he replied, taking a second to look at you, making sure he had guessed the right answer first.

You grinned at him, excited to hear his answer to your question, “Can I give you my first blowjob?”

Ben’s eyes just about popped out of his head and he had to clear his throat just in order to speak, “Now?”

“Now, in an hour, whenever, just today,” you clarified, your nonchalant attitude doing nothing to make Ben feel like this was a normal conversation topic while watching contestants in a battle of wits over relatively useless trivia.

“Are you sure? Just ‘cause I went down on you the other day doesn’t mean you need to do it if you’re not ready,” Ben reminded, sweet as ever.

“Thanks for the reminder, Benny,” you rolled your eyes fondly because of course you knew that, but you appreciated his desire for your desire nonetheless. “And yes, I’m sure. I’ve been thinking about it for a minute and the way you thoroughly enjoyed giving me head gave me hope that I might feel the same way when I do it for you.”

With that, you slid a hand along Ben’s thigh and suddenly he looked very conflicted.

“Ummm…”

“Yeah? Do you not want to?” you asked, the beginnings of a frown on your face.

“No, I do! Just, can we wait until the show is done?” he asked sheepishly and you laughed.

“Yes of course, you gigantic dork. We can wait to see if you’re gonna win the whole thing,” you tell him, moving your hand back down his thigh and then patting his knee.

“Not for me, I’m rooting for uhhh Blair,” the pause was because he had to wait for any of the contestant’s names to pop up on screen.

“Uh-huh, I believe you,” you turned back to the screen. If you were going to be waiting the 15 minutes until the show was over, you might as well try to get more questions right than Ben.

___

17 minutes later and you and Ben had migrated to his bedroom because you had decided that you might as well be lying down so you could put your full focus on the task at hand.

“Alright, boyo, get naked!” you told him, pulling at the clothes he was wearing but not actually doing anything to take them off.

“You sure know how to turn a guy on,” Ben said as he took off his clothes on his own.

But you didn’t answer, too distracted by the sight of Ben’s chest and abs coming into view and, oh fuck, his thighs. You could count on both hands the number of times you had seen Ben naked and, so far, the effect it had on you had not diminished.

Barely pulling yourself together before you started drooling, you pushed your now butt-naked boyfriend onto the bed and he settled himself among the pillows. He wasn’t hard yet, but that wasn’t a problem. You climbed onto bed with him and straddled him, bringing your lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss.

But the chasteness didn’t last long. You pulled out all of the stops when it came to your knowledge of kissing Ben (which was much further ahead than your knowledge of blowjobs). Ben liked it when you swept your tongue along the side of his and tickled the corners of his mouth. He also always moaned when you sucked on his lower lip then nipped it, so you did that now, pleased with yourself when you felt his muffled moan against your mouth.

You slowly started to feel him harden underneath you and shifted your hips until you were lined up with him. The heat from between your legs encouraged him along and you began to rock your hips back and forth gently.

Pleased with what you were able to get done with just kissing his lips and moving your hips, you pull back and start kissing your way across his jaw and then to his neck. You’re still not totally sure where his sweet spot is, but it takes you less and less time to find it every time you try, and nothing’s quite like the gasp you get from Ben when you do.

From his neck you move down to his chest, nipping the delicate skin over his collarbones and then licking it, trying to do that soothing thing that Ben does when he bites you but you’re not sure you’ve done it the same as he does. Oh well. Moving on, you got to his chest and instead of a nip, you pretty much fully bit into one of his pecs, unable to stop yourself when you saw the full, squishy muscle right there within reach. But Ben doesn’t seem to mind; on the contrary his hips move up into yours with the fleeting pain. You smile to yourself and add that to your ever-growing mental file folder of Ben's pleasure.

Now you’re bent low enough that you have to stop straddling him, kneeling between his legs for the moment as you lick and kiss his nipples, loving his surprised moan. Then as you crawl backwards, you press kisses to his stomach until his dick gets in the way and you take the chance you have to press a quick kiss to Ben’s head before resting on your elbows between his legs. It seems you had surprised him again, due to the wide eyed look on his face. You just giggled and traced a finger along his thigh.

Being this close to his dick, you could smell him, a faint musky scent that smelled like warm skin and something else. You licked your lips to see if you could taste him, but there hadn’t been enough contact. All of this reassured you a bit as you stared at his cock.

Then you quickly shifted your gaze to Ben and asked, “Should I start now?”

“If you want,” Ben’s voice was huskier than normal, something that made you smile a little, knowing you had caused it.

“But, like, is now a good time?” you asked self consciously, having left all of your previous experience behind at Ben’s collarbone.

“Yes, babe, now is a fantastic time,” Ben reassured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, psyching yourself up for a second. Then you remembered that Ben had kissed your thighs for a bit first, so you thought doing the same to him would be nice and a good build up for you to get ready.

So you pressed a kiss to his mid-thigh, looking up to see his reaction. He was looking at you with a funny little smile on his face.

“What?”

“No, nothing, I just thought you were going to start,” he said with a shrug.

“Shhh, I’m trying something,” you told him, pressing a similar kiss to the other thigh.

Next, you kissed a little higher on his leg, and it was an open-mouthed kiss, so you knew Ben could feel the wet warmth from your mouth on his skin. You kept moving your way up on either side, adding a swirl of your tongue or a scrape of your teeth here and there as you did. It only took a couple of minutes for you to reach the base of his cock, but by that time Ben was panting and his dick was throbbing literally in front of your eyes.

By now, you didn’t need psyching up and just kissed the base of his dick on either side. The natural continuance of your previous movements was to keep kissing up the length of his cock until you got to his head so that’s what you did, the light feeling of your lips on him making Ben’s breath turn shaky.

Finally, you got to his head and finally, you stuck out your tongue and licked it. He tasted like he smelled, which wasn’t bad, just different. So with that knowledge in hand, you brought your right hand to hold his cock in place so that you could do what you wanted at the top. You licked his head again, your tongue running along his slit. It honestly felt almost dry to you, so you gathered some spit in your mouth and then let it fall onto his cock. And even though it was a practical move, Ben moaned out loud at the sight.

You licked all around the edge of his head, trying to remember to give a little extra attention to the frenulum like you had read about in some online magazine. Ben seemed to like that by the way his hips twitched forwards and his breath caught. So you swirled your tongue on it again before moving on.

This time, you opened your mouth and placed his whole head in your mouth, closing your lips around him slowly as you got used to the sensation. It was definitely a little strange because you had never felt anything like it in your mouth. Again, not unpleasant, just weird. But a weird that you could see yourself quickly getting used to.

You moved your mouth further down on his cock and were able to take about half of his cock down. Ben hummed and you looked up, letting his dick fall out of your mouth.

Swallowing quickly, you asked, “Was that good, was it right?”

“Yeah, it felt nice,” Ben smiled. Then he thought for a second, “If you were already building up to it, totally ignore me, but remember you can also… suck.”

Your face dropped and your eyes widened, “Oh my gosh! I cannot believe I forgot about sucking your dick!!”

Ben was so obviously trying not to laugh that you started laughing too.

“Literally your dick was in my mouth, and that’s all! Just fucking sitting there!” a blush, mostly from embarrassment, but also partly from laughter, covered pretty much your entire face.

“Listen babe,” Ben said through giggles. “It’s not like it’s in the name. Plus I wasn’t lying when I said it felt nice. Just, you know, not quite enough to finish.”

The two of you laughed and joked for a few more minutes until the mood had settled. You’re about to get back to business when Ben insisted on a kiss first; you happily obliged.

Once you’re back between his legs, the whole thing seemed less daunting and you started redoing the kissing and licking of earlier since he had liked it. By the time you’re considering actually sucking his dick, the mood had changed enough so you’re not at risk for laughing.

You started by sucking on his head, which didn’t feel awkward in your mouth, and so encouraged, you sucked him a little deeper. His shaft was too long for you to fit the entire thing, but just under half seemed to work. This time you remembered on your own to start bobbing your head and Ben groaned at the feeling.

That worked well until you accidentally went too deep and gagged. Your first reaction was to pull him out of your mouth, a line of spit running from your lips to his cock. Ben immediately asked if you were alright and if you wanted to take a break and you did.

During this “break” you stayed between his legs and just used your hand to stimulate him instead of your mouth. You had given him a few handjobs as foreplay before so that was easy to fall back into. And once you felt ready to start again, it was nice to keep pumping him as you kissed his head. Slowly, you worked him into your mouth again, and this time you knew how deep you could go comfortably (at least enough to know where to slow down to prevent gagging).

It was actually a lot of fun. Doing things that made Ben moan once and then doing them over and over again until his hips twitched upwards. It was also kind of a funny experience, but instead of laughing, you would hum around his cock, which surprisingly Ben also liked.

The only issue was that your jaw was starting to get tired. Apparently, it was not used to this kind of movement. You tried to soldier through, but when it felt like you were getting a cramp (if that’s even possible in your jaw), you had to call the sucking part quits.

“Benny…”

“Yeah, babe?” Ben replied, eyes opening and his hands unclenching from the bedsheets.

“My jaw is sore,” you pouted.

“Oh no, babe. Is it okay? Is it bad? Why didn’t you stop when it started getting tired?” Ben’s questions are rapid fire but you can feel his care through all of them.

“I thought it would go away,” you admitted sheepishly.

Ben gave you a look, but just said, “Well, it was very good. And if you wanna keep practicing another day, that is more than fine by me. Plus the more you do, the more used to it your jaw muscles will get.”

As he spoke, Ben started sitting up like he was going to get up.

“What are you doing? I still want to get you off,” you told him with a tone of voice that told him to settle back down.

You grasped his cock again, stroking it up and down firmly, making sure to go over his head as well. When you wanted your hand to move more smoothly, you spat on his cock again and Ben cursed.

As soon as your jaw stopped feeling weird, you took just his head back in your mouth. Since it was less than before, it seemed okay, so you started sucking and swirling your tongue around him in time to your hand.

You could tell he was getting close by the way his moans had gotten higher, but now he seemed like he was at a plateau.

You pulled his head out of your mouth, “Ben are you close?”

His eyes moved from your hand to your face, “Um, mostly.”

You nodded, “Well, maybe you can show me what works better.”

Grabbing his hand with your free one, you situated yours and his together until he was covering your hand that was pumping his dick. Ben started slowly, unsure of your idea, but then the feeling of his large hand over your smaller one stroking his dick was incredibly hot and he started guiding you for real.

With some adjustment, you started sucking his head again. Between Ben’s encouraging words and instruction, and your hums in response to them, Ben was close minutes later and warned you.

You shook your head, quickly popping his cock out of your mouth, “I want to taste you.”

Just five more seconds set Ben off, his hips bucking into yours and his hands, his voice moaning your name loudly, and his cum spurting into your mouth.

It was more than you were expecting, and the taste was a weird mixture of things but not bad enough that you wouldn’t be okay with swallowing. Ben pumped your hand over his cock a couple more times and then let go, so you did the same and took his cock out of your mouth.

You smiled up at him, “I liked it!”

Ben smiled sleepily back, holding his hands out to you. Even though both of you had a hand covered in saliva, you happily let him pull you closer to him.

“Oh, you’ve got a bit of cum on your lower lip,” Ben mumbled and you started to reach up to wipe it off or push it into your mouth when he pulled you even closer. Ben kissed his cum off your lip and your eyes widened as a bolt of unexpected pleasure ran through you. But Ben didn’t give you time to think about that because he was deepening the kiss to show his thanks.

★★★

I'm gonna tag for length. permanent taglist: @riseetothesun@drowseoftaylor @caborhapch​  @queenlover05 @johndeaconshands @stardust-galaxies @zodiacaldust @buckyluvrs @im-an-adult-ish @sleep-i-ness​

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 3/?

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N -Any name (your best friend’s name)

Part 3! Date 2 is going to be underway with this one. Enjoy!

I had to change my pfp and my header cause they were being dickheads so just be aware if you liked looking at the batboys when clicking on my profile lmao <3

Warnings: Swearing, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd, Dark humor.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15)  (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Y/N woke up the next day feeling like she could take on the world, energized, with a new crush, and full of life, a stark shift from how she usually was. She was never normally a morning person and had a severe addiction to caffeine. I mean, the addiction was still there and she still needed coffee before she could go to her 3pm class and meet up with Jason again, but she was happy. She would put on her clothes and pack her bag before even getting coffee.

“G’morning, A/N!”

“Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?” A/N joked.

“Down girl, I’m just peppy today, it’ll probably wear down and it’s probably a once-in-a-blue-moon deal,” Y/N said as she started brewing her coffee.

“You got a date with Jason today?”

“I do!”

“That explains it,” A/N joked again.

“Says the one with a boyfriend,” she shot back.

“He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just hooking up right now, trust me, if he was, you’d know, darlin’.”

“So what did dreamboat ask last night?” A/N asked.

“Well I said ‘What do you want to know?’ and he said ‘We’ll talk about it today, maybe during notes or maybe during our lunch date, we’ll see how i’m feeling.’ so I think that’s good?”

“You kidding? You got that man wrapped around your finger, respect.”

“Shut up.”

“No thanks, I have free speech y’know.”

“Yeah you can say whatever, but I can also use my free speech rights to tell you to shove it, so, checkmate,” you sneered at her.

“That’s fair,” A/N paused and then changed the subject, “Have you heard Brutal yet?” she asked.

“You’re damn right I have, I wonder where that was for me at 17. But to be fair, I would still blast it now at my parents just to make them irk.”

“They would kill you for listening to that song instead of their Christian Rock.”

“Worth it, I’ll die swinging and singing.” Y/N mused.

“It really is Brutal out here.”

“Leave, get out, that sucked, blocked, friendship over.”

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

She walked up to her 3pm class, to be greeted by Jason at the door, with of course, her new knowledge of the tabloids and their minions, she questioned why he’d do this.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“’Afternoon, Jason.”

“I’m trying to give the tabloids a show, don’t mind me.” he mused.

“I’m not surprised, but class is in 5.”

“Then I guess we should sit down and get ready to write at lightning speeds.”

She went to sit down, followed close by Jason. She couldn’t help but notice everyone was staring, but she didn’t care. This is going to be fun, she thought, I’m glad they’re gonna get a fucking kick out of this, she finished her thought.

Class went on as usual, with her scribbling down the notes so quick her arms hurt by the end of it, and Jason just sitting around making sure she wasn’t losing her arms to the writing, and casually laughing at the Professor. Then, the Professor brought up Barry Allen. Dr. Barry Allen and what he does for the criminal psychology people. 

“Forensics go hand-in-hand with criminal psych, normally we can tell, as scholars, from the hitting of the weapon why and who might’ve done it.” The Professor said.

 She saw Jason tense up a bit, and whispered over to him;

“You know Dr. Barry Allen don’t you?”

“He’s my uncle,” he whispered back.

“Well, be sure to tell him I’ve read some of his essays when I wanted to go into forensics instead of criminal psychology.”

“Really? He has essays?”

“Many. Very good writing. 10/10.”

“You’re going to make his week if you keep talking like this.” he mused.

“Good.” you mocked.

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

“So, you’re intermixed with a renowned journalist, a legend in forensic testing and you’re the son of Bruce Wayne?” she asked Jason, she couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but there they were, all cards on the table.

“Yeah, I know this is all new to you but famous people tend to know other famous people.” he joked with her.

“Well that’s fair, I guess I kind of know Clark, I met him once at a office party with my mum.”

“He’d probably remember you.”

“Enough of your family ties, huh? You said you wanted to know more about me?”

“Yes, that, did you tell your roommate to pick up your car?” he asked her.

“I did, why was I meant to do that, by the way?” she asked him.

“Because, we, you and I, Y/N, are going to go for a joyride on my motorbike and try to get away from these,” he lowered his voice, “bitch ass cameras,” he grabbed her hand and started running towards his bike, dodging all the paparazzi who just wanted the snag shot of the two. They don’t even know my name, and they’re going off about this, she thought.

When the two met his bike, she looked over it fondly. This guy really likes his red, she thought, that’s fair, I do too.

“Nice bike.”

“Thank you, Y/N. We can ride this bad boy out to the country and try to escape the cameras, which kind of cuts into the lunch date, but hey-”

“That’s just the life someone famous has to live?” she questioned.

“You’re catching on.”

“I could have been a detective if I wanted it.”

He laughed and sat down on his bike and like instinct, she sat behind him and wrapped her hands on his chest and leant in. She didn’t know how to passenger a motorbike, but he didn’t say she did it wrong.

“You ready?”

“Jason, are you going to kill me?”

“Well if the shoe fits.” he mused.

“I’m ready.”

And off they went.

There was something about the way the bike drove through the streets of Gotham that she loved so much, she had already fallen in love with the restless city and called it home long before right now, but this was exhilarating for her. Somehow driving at 120mph was amazing, it brought out this feeling of freedom, something she hadn’t ever felt back home in Metropolis.

It’s worth it, she thought, it’s forever going to be worth it.

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

Pulling her off of his bike, the two of them laid underneath the tree on the small hill Jason pulled over by.

“Do you think we escaped the pap?” she asked him.

“Probably not.”

“Festive.”

“So, Y/N, it’s your turn to open up about your family. Besides your mum, I already know about your mum.”

“So, my twin sister goes to our rival school, the Metropolis one, I think she’s more of a people person than I’ll ever be. My parents are still together, they got married after they had my sister and I, so I’m a bastard,” she laughed, “I always like telling people I’m by definition a bastard, a lot of them get mad all like, ‘don’t call yourself that you’re a lovely girl’ and it’s just funny to me,”

He laughed, “You call yourself a bastard out of spite?”

“Am I supposed to not? I think it’s funny-”

“It’s pretty funny. I live out of spite too,” he said, almost like he was pulling out a bad memory, but she egged him on slightly,

“Spite who?” she asked.

“Spite God.”

She let out a laugh, and he seemed to let go of whatever memory he had clung onto to watch her laugh. It was clearly a distracting laugh.

“God tried to strike you and you just went ‘Nah mate, go away’? Respectable. I would do that.” she said while laughing.

“That’s exactly what happened, Y/N-” and his phone pinged, he turned it over, it was Dick.

“Mind sharing who that is?”

“I don’t mind, it’s my older brother sending me an article of us today. We really gave them a show holding hands,” he began reading, “ ‘Millionaire’s Son, Jason Todd, Caught Holding Hands with the Mystery Girl.’ “

“One day they will know my name. And it will be a massive article. Like a gender reveal.”

“Like a gender reveal?!” he said back to her, laughing so hard his smile reached ends she didn’t expect it to be able to go.

“It wasn’t that funny of a joke, Jason,” she said.

“It’s a better joke than my brothers and sister could ever come up with, Y/N, and they’ve had Galas to practice for,” he retorted.

“I’ll set it ablaze like the California gender reveal,” she continued with the joke, expecting this to be too far, but this also showed her that Jason liked dark humor, and she did too.

He burst out laughing at this, and she smiled.

“You have perfect teeth, Jason.”

“Is that what you’re focused on?” he asked.

“They are the forefront when you smile, it is hard not to.”

“Romantic,” he mocked her.

“I can be more romantic next date, if you want it,” she said, inclined towards him saying I want it. She was right.

“I want it.”

[kaypeace21]

Analyzing the 5 plays in this drama club poster .From the bts pics of stranger things 4.

So... some of ya’ll know I'm going through the st s4 films given to us by the official st twitter + the films reffed in the show itself or mentioned by the Duffers in interviews .

So I decided to look at the plays mentioned here. Because even if we don't see the monologues in the show directly - the Duffers wouldn't name drop anything unless it inspired them in some way. Similar to films name dropped in the show. Tw : for some dark themes .

This is just a quick little analysis I decided to do since we probably won't get any new st content today (3/22). Nothing too deep. Just mentioning things that caught my interest especially cause these plays have a lot of narrative connections to the st s4 movies I've been watching.

Invitation to a march (Authur laurents)

Reminds me of the stancy/jancy love triangle. "A young woman is having second thoughts about doing the right thing and marrying a respectable , rich, kind, young man with good prospects.By way of a prewedding diversion, this woman becomes interested in the passionate but poor and entirely unsuitable son of a local landlord.Basically, the plot concerns the efforts of Norma Brown to choose between a conventional fiance who "puts her to sleep" but is wealthy (like what her own mother did) or go for this new-poor guy. The play is principally interested in how this youthful love triangle affects the three mothers involved (whether the kids like it or not)

12th night (Shakespeare)

 - viola (el) wrongly assumes a family member (hopper) is dead. She dresses up as a man named 'cesario'. A girl named Olivia falls for 'cesario' (violet dressed as a man). "Finally, when 'Cesario' and Sebastian (violet's twin brother: assumed to have drowned - Will) appear in the presence of Olivia there is more wonder and confusion at their physical similarity. Taking Sebastian for 'Cesario', Olivia asks him to marry her, and they are secretly married in a church. Cough if Olivia is 'straight' cause she fell for Viola (as a doppleganger dressed like her twin brother).Mike being into el who multiple characters in s1 said looked like a boy and specifically like Will is...suspish and a hint he's not straight lol. just like Olivia they're both into guys . plus, this play just has a butt load of love triangles (ugh i hated that aspect). There was also romantically coded letters (which was in the s4 films) . One character is also thrown into an insane asylum and framed as 'insane'.'Pretending that Malvolio is insane, they lock him up in a dark chamber. Feste visits him to mock his insanity'. We all know the psych hospital will be narratively important- talked about it more here.

The seagull (Anton Chekhov-russian)

similar to how I believed s4 will show m*#even already broken up since the months between s3-4 : act 3 (s3) ends with Nina begging for one last chance to be with Trigorin before he leaves/moves away. They kiss and make plans to meet again in Moscow.And in act 4 there's a timeskip where it shows they've been broken up for a long time between acts- and its established they never actually loved eachother. Do i even have to spell out why this parallels the m*#even ending in s3? There is also a play within the play (this is common in a lot of the st films- they have plays- or a story within a story- which illustrate certain themes or emotions of the characters within said film : blackswan, children of paradise, highschool musical, Rushmore, book of Henry, welcome to marwen, never ending story, romancing the stone, wet hot American summer, etc).The play is Konstantin's latest attempt at creating a dense symbolist work. There is also alot of love triangles in the seagull. TW!: for se#ual ab*se/su*cidal thoughts/ inc*st (here and in other play segments). The seagull motif reminds me a lot of Jonathan's rabbit story.Konstantin romantically into Nina shows up to give her a gull that he has shot. Nina is confused and horrified . Trigorin sees the gull that Konstantin has shot and muses to Nina on how he could use it as a subject for a short story: "The plot for the short story: a young girl lives all her life on the shore of a lake. She loves the lake, like a gull, and she's happy and free, like a gull. But a man arrives by chance, and when he sees her, he destroys her, out of sheer boredom. Like this gull."  This immediately reminded me of jon's rabbit story and some of the movies on the s4 list . Like in forrest gump- Jenny (who is poor) was se*ually ab*sed as a very young girl by her father. As a child she runs away into a field-away from her alcoholic father yelling at her -there she prays that she can "be a bird so I can fly far far away" .

Jenny as an adult struggles with this unresolved trauma- being with ab*sive partners, doing dr*gs, and having su*cidal thoughts . She as an adult when contemplating su*icide, jokes 'you think i can fly like a bird ?' while looking down at a bridge.God-i'm worried about jonathan (Jenny was also a musician sort of like jon). In another s4 movie example ' mystic river ' :(in the 80s) a preteen baseball playing boy is r*ped by men in the woods. He later says he wishes he could become an undead monster to not feel the pain of that experience - cause quote " if I'm not human anymore maybe the pain will stop" (Will) . slightly off topic but he also has another personality, imagines a alternate word that dissappears when he turns his head. And as a less direct animal parallel to the play - the boy from the film also imagined his perpetrators as monsters and wolves to cope.In 'getout' the photographer character sees a dead deer in the woods and it represents a parent/his own childhood tra*ma relating to his past. similarly in 'prince of tides' the 2 siblings as kids were ra*ed by men. The older brother remembered it and the younger sibling developed DID (so didn't remember but she would draw wolves- as the perpetrators/villains in her picture stories she created . In the film they also had an ab*sive dad and were very poor. She also tried k*ling herself multiple times-but started to get better after remembering the source of her pain and trauma.  There is also the theme of multiple attempted su*cides in the play- and the play ends with yet another attempt- and the audience is left unaware of the artist's fate at the end of the play.

The tempest (Shakespeare)

Prospereo - (the perceived antagonist) is a wizard with monstrous looks, storm powers , and ability to create monster-dogs

He wants revenge on a man who tried ra*ing his family member & revenge on his other family member who wronged him years ago. I mean... pretty much my did theory.But in the end.Prospero decides to show his enemies the mercy that they did not show him twelve years earlier. He tells Ariel to bring the men to him, he will restore their sanity and then renounce magic forever.Prospero breaks the spell that the men are under .

Diary of a scoundrel (Alexander Ostrovsky-Russian)

-  I suppose this could loosely relate to Jonathan? Glumov, is a young man from an impoverished family lacking status seeking entrance into society's pampered class. A 19th-century Russian scoundrel must scheme his way out of his meager life in a small apartment -whatever it takes.He has a quick mind and some talent for seeing through the hypocrisies of people around him ( Jonathan does make a lot of social critiques about society). That gives him some advantages. A tale of one man's mission to finagle his way into upper-class society and find a cushy job. Set in 1874, this social comedy follows Glumov, a Russian youth who begins his ambitious ascent to social esteem. He progresses by wit, guile and rhetoric. Pitting one stupid person against another, he soon gains his ends. To reach these goals, Glumov will lie, flatter, and cater to the vanities of the wealthy. Unable to contain his disgust with his victims, Glumov decides to relieve his unvoiced satirical comments by recording his schemes in a diary. But he is tripped up by his uncle's wife, to whom he has made passionate love on his way to success. At the end of the play, his diary is stolen and his duplicity exposed, but he can nevertheless suceeds. The author is much more critical about the high society itself than about the main character, so the play keeps attracting generations of directors by opening possibilities for political criticism while also avoiding naming names of the current rulers.The play's aim was to overthrow bourgeois tradition and establish a class-conscious art called eccentricism giving a deliberately comic portrayal of reality.

I suppose I notice some possible commonalities-  besides s3 critiquing the wealthy/capitalism in comedic ways . jonathan since s1 has worried about his family's finances / had some resentment toward the rich . In some of the s4 movies ‘orphan’ & ‘ girl interrupted’ someone reads their diary out loud to get at them (in girl interrupted the winona character’s diary even had critiques of her new friends).  Alot of movies also have someone (usually a teen/young adult) making a documentary about their life -which could narratively replace said diary? A few movies have a poor guy adjusting to snobby rich social circles (or being poor and then getting money)- titanic, kingsmen, karate kid, the craft , godfather,  wardogs,into the spiderverse,flashdance, and many others . And movies like wardogs has a poor-young-character do shady things to finacially support his family . There’s also that whole uncle’s wife thing- which makes me uncomfortable for obvious reasons (but I’m just thinking of Lonnie’s creepy gf who was into him). A few movies had the guy’s step mom innappropriately hit on him- orange county & you got mail. And him trying to avoid her advances. Or...not to mention ... it may be a problematic coincidence /trope. But in enter the void -the guy who needs to finacially support his sibling/ does dr*gs -hooks up with his dr*g dealing friend’s married mom (who would give him money).  Or in gilbert grape- the poor teen-who has to finacially support his siblings/single mom-has his endgame relationship be a girl his own age. But before that he h*oked up with a married woman -who would give him money. Don’s plum -young film guy-propositioned by older female film director (for dream job). Not even mentioning the other films that have the guy hooking up with toxic older women (like ‘the graduate’). Or analyze this-where the therapist accuses him of having an Oedipus complex (not touching that one... but the guy in ‘enter the void’ a 100% had one). It’s possible those movies were just- inspo for s3?  A coincidence? Or s3 was foreshadowing for this in s4- but unlike s3 it will accurately be played as wrong  and a sign of Jonathan recreating past tra*ma caused by Lonnie (cough like the photos) /being desperate for money. And not played ‘comedically’ like how it mostly was in s3. But shown as self destructive  (for Jon) and immoral on the Woman’s end. Like... Billy and Jon are character foils. Both are older siblings into rock music, with ab*sive dads who shoved them into walls. Both lose it (and beat steve to a pulp when Steve accidentally triggers their daddy issues). In s3 it’s established womanizer Billy has mommy issues, than he tries ho*king up with someone his mom’s age, and the characters ref ‘back to the future ‘ and Steve incorrectly says it’s about “alex p keaton trying to bang his mom.” This could illustrate his subconscious issues with parental figures/adults cause of Lonnie’s  possible past se*ual ab*se . One film the friend even says to the guy “you don’t have friends!” guy b: i have friends! him:  no you have acquaintances! ADMIT IT! YOU’RE AFRAID OF MEN!I mean-Jonathan liked Nancy- but he initially hooked up with her cause he wanted to prove he didn’t have ‘trust issues’ from his dad. Also it’s prob a bit of a reach (and maybe a coincidence)- but the fact Murray in the same breath compares Steve (Nancy’s then bf) and Lonnie  ... uh... if you think too long about it ... it’s very sinister .  Especially because in s3: muray tells Joyce  that despite her wanting to be with a nice guy, she’s curious about “the brute” Hopper despite him reminding her of a past “bad relationship”(aka Lonnie). Like- yeah connect some dots.  Quite a few films (other than forrest gump) also have the character who (as a kid) was  r*ped by their dad/parent-  begin to do dr*gs/be pr*miscuous as adults since they never learned to properly cope with their trauma (’girl with the dragon tattoo’,  ‘black swan’, and ‘magnolia’). Unfortunately the whole relative doing such things to kid-relatives is in at least 30+ movies. 

Personally, i would be MUCH happier if Jon had a age appropriate romance- and had not a single creepy adult near him. A few movies actually imply Lonnie gets yet another ‘new model’  replacing his gf in her 20s with a new gf- who is ‘barely l*gal” and just turned 18. so there’s that possibility as well- that she’s jonathan’s age.I just want Jonathan-happy &safe. GOD. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day one of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! I’ll be participating this month as a writer! The prompt for today is Knife!

warnings for mentions of suicidal ideation and attempts, death, child abuse, and blood.

Billy met Steve in the psych ward.

Well, they met officially at Tina’s party, but that wasn’t the real Steve. That was the King Steve. Deeper than that though, even the Steve Harrington everyone else saw even after the breakup and the fall from grace still wasn’t the real thing.

That was fake smiles, overdone nonchalance to cover up the wound from his fallen status. Now he was stripped down to himself, all bloody bandages and tired eyes, the boy he was pretending to be finally broken down to reveal this.

Apparently, Ruthie Harrington found her son with his grandfather's switchblade- all the other objects in the house sharper than a spoon and with less sentimental value had already been tossed -bleeding all over her freshly polished linoleum floors. She dropped him off at the hospital a night ago and nobody’s been by to see him since.

Now, it’s by pure coincidence that Billy’s already in on the same day Steve’s admitted.

He’s been locked up the past three days compared to Steve’s one. These small town hicks are jumpier (ha) than he thought, and don’t think doing the walk and turn test on the edge of the quarry after downing a bottle and a half of fireball is as funny as he does. Whatever. Cid would’ve thought that was badass as hell.

So he was admitted, on suicide watch for a stupid joke that wasn’t really worth it, or even really a joke. Max came to visit once. She punched him in the chest as hard as she could and cursed him out for an hour. She’d never done that before. By the time she left they were both in tears, and maybe Billy realized a thing or too about his carelessness. Realized for the first time that someone cared.

But he’s still in here for another week and a half by law, so. He’s not going to mope about it. And while Steve Harrington showing up is about the last thing he’s expecting, he decides that’s at least something he can work with. Definitely brings a little life to the place.

He waits until Steve’s intense watch period is over to bug him, once they’re out of their cramped little rooms for a couple of hours to “socialize” (see, the more sound of mind keep an eye on the other patients while the nurses take their smoke breaks) Billy goes straight to Steve. Him and Harrington are far from friends, but that’s pretty much irrelevant when the only other choices for company are kids younger than them too scared to approach them and people too deep in their midlife crises to bother with teenage drama.

Throwing himself down in the blue plastic chair across from where Steve settled in, Billy kicks his feet up on the table,, “What’s up Harrington? Didn’t expect to see a familiar face in here.”

But Steve, poor Steve, takes one look at Billy with those haunted brown eyes, and his face just falls completely apart. There are tears on his way too pale cheeks before Billy even has a chance to breathe.

The smile drops off of Billy’s face, “Jesus Harrington, I know m’not looking my best surviving on hospital food and cigarettes without a hairbrush, but that’s a little unwarranted.”

“Shut up. Not everything’s about you, Hargrove.”

“Oh I disagree with that. But I get the point. I’ll let ya be.” Billy hums, scooting his chair back and getting up. He stops when Steve starts to speak, “Y-You outta be careful saying that kinda stuff in here.”

“What?”

“That the world revolves around you. They’ll come up with a diagnosis for that and keep you here forever. Drug you ‘til you forget your own name, let alone your status.” Steve tells him with humor, wiping the tears off his face.

Billy nods in understanding, sits back down with an interested smirk, “This ain’t your first time here, is it?”

“Is it yours?”

“Nah. I’ve done some shit on purpose, some on accident. Once it wasn’t even me. But s’never done anything to help so far.”

Steve puffs out a sigh, “Don’t I know it.. I’ve been in and outta this place since I was like, ten. Clearly nothing’s changed.”

“Why? What’s your dirty little secret, Harrington?”

“I cut myself, dumbass.” He deadpans, looking at Billy with a bluntness in his expression that reads more concerning, more like indifference to what he just said than matter-of-fact.

“No shit. But that ain’t the secret.” Billy probes further, can tell he’s getting under that mask Steve wears, “Why do you do it?”

“Legally, I can't tell you. And I don’t think I would anyways.”

“What about if I tell you all about me first? I got no reservations ‘cept the one that got me a bed here.”

“It’s not a hotel, Hargrove.”

“Eh, might as well be. Feels like the damn hotel California.”

“Is that why?”

“Huh? Oh no, I been pullin’ stunts like this long before we left Cali.”

“Like what?”

“Like downing two full bottles of my mother’s meds after she left. Not at the same time obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. Mostly ‘cause my dad didn’t even wanna take me to the hospital either time.” Billy doesn’t look at Steve while he elaborates. Not because he cares, he’s an open book, if a random old woman at the grocery store asked about his last attempt, he’d tell her.

But. He doesn’t like watching people’s faces. Seeing sympathy and concern there. It makes him feel all stupid and guilty. It’s usually not like that with other kids like him, but Steve’s different. He’s got a big heart. Even if there’s no room for himself.

And Billy hurt Steve before. He doesn’t want to see someone he caused pain caring so much about him. He already cracked when Max came to see him. This could be what splits him open, spills out all the things he’s covered up.

So he keeps going, “And like runnin’ out in front of traffic with my friends. They thought we were just playin’ chicken ‘til I stopped dead in front of a station wagon. Metal rims’d done me in for sure if one ‘a the older boys hadn’t pulled me outta the way. Damn near ripped my shirt in half how fast he grabbed me.”

“I’m guessing your parents are the reason why then?”

“Yessir.” Billy deflects, not good at getting deeper into it, “You wanna tell me yours then?”

“I started cutting because Tommy Hagan told me about it. He thought it was freaky, but when he ran his mouth about how they found the neighbor kid in his room, drained of all his blood from his wrists, I wanted to try it. I’ve tried liquor and drugs and all kinds ‘a shit I shouldn’t, but nothin’ stuck like cutting.” Steve pauses for a long time, his eyes going blank, staring right past Billy, “When my mom found out she.. she.. Forget it.”

“Hey, you seen my skeletons. Can’t I see yours?”

“No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it anymore.” Steve answers, despite his assuredness, his tone wobbling with some unidentifiable emotion.

Talk about mood swings. Billy doesn’t get how nobody would’ve noticed something was up before Steve started carving into himself. Really, he knows someone would have seen it and just ignored it.

It only gets worse though, the reservedness turning to sadness and frustration. None of the words are coming out, but he can tell Steve’s thinking of the stories, reliving all that got him to the here and now. Billy can also tell there’s nothing he can do no to stop him from doomsdaying.

So when Steve is inevitably in the thralls of a panic attack, he tries to hug him tight, to try to get it to stop maybe, that always worked for him at least, but Steve swats him away. Judging from the way he winces, it’s not easy for him to do either, with those thick ass bandages constricting his wrists, but the tears and the pain on his face are buried behind his resolution.

He’s hiding something from Billy.

In hindsight, talking to a new patient about past attempts probably wasn’t his brightest idea anyways, so he switches the subject while Steve works on coming down from his panic attack. He brings up Max and her little nerds, trying to bridge the healthier connections between him and Steve that they’d both been ignoring since the fight. He mentions basketball too, another something they have in common other than trying to kill themselves.

It doesn’t really work, though Steve does stop shaking as bad, just curling up in his little chair and sniffling, pretending not to listen while Billy rambles on and on. But he doesn’t talk. It’s probably better for him not to anyway. Billy himself has been known to say some dumb shit when he’s in distress.

Ultimately, even once the conversation runs out, he stays with Steve until dark. He can tell from the way his gaze sticks to the floor that Steve recovered from his fit a while ago, but he’s embarrassed by having a breakdown in front of him, as if he isn’t in here for the same reason. It helps that he gets it though, and they sit in a comfortable, albeit very prolonged, silence.

Long after Steve gets xanned up and knocked out though, while Billy is still free to wander until the midnight curfew as a low risk patient, he decides to stick with him in his room. Billy’ll never admit it, but he gets nightmares, and he doesn’t want to face that just yet, so with a new friend as an excuse, he’s up half the night watching Steve sleep.

He remembers what happened earlier, how focused Steve was on keeping him away from him, despite his panic, and decides, with a glance at how deeply Steve is sleeping, his greasy hair all strewn about on stiff pillows, that he’s going to figure out what it was.

He snoops around in his bedside drawers, in the bathroom, in the locker in the corner. It’s there he notices the knitted jacket Steve was wearing before, hanging heavy to one side, like there’s something in its pocket. He touches it and feels the outline of something small, so he pulls it out.

He regrets checking though, because it’s a knife. Judging from the old looking engravings on its handle, and the coppery stains within the grooves, it’s specifically the very same one that got Steve hospitalized.

He shoves it in his own back pocket and keeps looking, with a quick glance at Steve, finding a note tucked where the knife had been. Written in perfect scrawl on bond paper that’s been folded a dozen times and stained with tears,

“Do it right next time, why don’t you? Your mother is too soft on you. I’m not paying for this again.

- J.Harrington.”

Billy doesn’t know what to do but throw the note in the trash. Not really in shock, but definitely more than a little fucked up from reading that, he sits on the end of Steve’s bed. His own dad, who'd more than once been the one putting him in the hospital, had never even said anything like that to him.

He didn’t get to talk to Steve much today, but they’ve got as long as Billy’s stuck in here together to fix that. Longer if he just pulls something in front of a nurse. And he wants to, really really wants to.

Because he knows he just met the real Steve, can recognize another broken boy when he sees one, and he knows too, that he never wants to meet a pretty boy like this again.

And if that’s his declaration to get clean, then so fucking be it.

But. He never promised not to hurt anyone. Ultimately he’d still need that outlet.

He keeps the knife. To make sure his pretty boy doesn’t get hurt again.

[m88n]

[7.01 pm] - when a night spent together with mark lee makes you question his motives

►listen to boyfriend - ariana grande

You recall the events of yesterday night as you make your way to the upscale burger joint that’s been designated as the meeting point for a group of friends. Lingering touches, soft breaths. Whispers of sweet nothings from a boy with clear eyes and unspoken thoughts. You don’t know what happened there—one thing led to another, and before you knew it, you were cuddling with him under his cold covers, the touches of his skin and lips becoming all too familiar to you. 

Lost in your thoughts, you realize that you’ve finally reached the diner. You reach for the door handle to enter the vicinity.

Images of his slender fingertips on his game controller flashing through your mind, you two were supposed to just spend time playing games as new friends with similar hobbies. But before you knew it, you were exchanging gazes in the silence of his studio apartment, and suddenly, you were kissing each other.

You’ve been thinking about this since last night.

“y/n, come over here! Happy you made it,” A friend calls out to you from a booth.

You don’t know what to make of it, because the way he asked for 10 more minutes of your cuddles that night, yet tearing his eyes away from you all too quickly the morning after, avoiding any lingering touches as he takes you to your cab, makes you question his motives.

You sigh your thoughts out as you sit next to Sarah, the girl who everyone generally dislikes due to her disposition and behavior, but honestly, you prefer to focus on her good parts, like her bubbliness, and her ability to bring people together.

“Hey, what’s up guys?” You greet everyone, and they greet you back in unison, all smiles.

“So, everyone here?” Jeno asks Sarah.

She giggles coyly, then says in a lowered volume, “No, I invited this guy, he’s so cute. I’ve been trying to get to him since last month ever since I saw him in my stats class. Finally got his number last week,” She finishes, playing with her hair.

“Oh, alright. That’s taking awfully long, knowing how you play,” Jisung jokes backhandedly, and you shoot him a warning look, albeit with a smile threatening to break out.

Jisung smiles back at you and looks down at his cup, trying to contain himself from bursting out in laughter.

“Yeah, I know right? Guy’s got a real tight defense, what gives,” She continues, “Usually guys would’ve been all over me at this point. I wonder what’s his problem.”

Sarah turns at you, to your surprise, “Hey, y/n, what do you think? I need to get him for me.”

Not knowing how to respond, you shrug at her question. “I honestly don’t know Sarah, you’d know better than I do.”

“Yeah, thought I’d ask you cause you do these things unreasonably slow, it’s so weird, honestly y/n, you could do so much better,” She responds. You nod at her as she keeps on talking, your eyes lingering at Jisung, who gives you a look full of condolences, slowly shaking his head at you.

“—Oh hey, over here!” Sarah suddenly stops her train of endless lecturing in order to greet someone at the entrance with complete haste.

You breathed out in relief, that is, before your eyes hover over the direction of the entrance.

Mark.

It’s Mark.

“Hey everyone, this is Mark Lee, guy from my stats class, the one I’ve told you about,” Sarah announces to the rest of the table.

“Hey guys,” Mark greets, waving at your group, before his eyes meet yours.

You swear you could’ve seen a millisecond of him slightly raising his brows, but he continues as if nothing’s happened, taking the only vacant seat next to you.

“Hey man,” Mark leans in to greet someone on the table.

“Hey, doing alright?” Jisung responds.

“Not bad,” Mark says as he sits back down.

Even though you don’t mean to, your eyes are definitely shooting daggers at Jisung at this point. He looks back at you and flashes a small reserved smile that’s hard to decipher. Park Jisung, I swear.

“I didn’t know you guys knew each other! Jiji, you never told me!” Sarah bellows from beside you, snapping you out of your train of thought. Though, you proceed to look at Jisung with the same questionable look.

“First off, Sarah, don’t call me that,” Jisung says, “Second, how am I supposed to know Mark’s the guy you have in stats? I’m not an oracle,”

“Oh Ji, always so cute,” Sarah responds as she looks over you to lock eyes with Mark, “That being said, Mark, do you want to switch seats with my friend here? She doesn’t talk too much to people she just meets so you’re probably better off—”

“I’m good here, thanks Sarah,” Mark responds with a polite smile, “I can go in and out easy to get water and go to the bathroom here, so I’m good really.”

“Oh well, whatever you say Mark,” Sarah says, giggling to herself, “Before we order, let’s introduce you to everyone, you already know Jiji,” She proceeds to give out a brief introduction of each of the people on the table starting from Jisung, Mark greeting each one with attentiveness.

“… And this is y/n. She’s a psych major,” Sarah finally gets to you, “She loves stuff like anime, but don’t get me wrong, she’s cool, kinda unexpected, she’s got around like 7 tattoos hidden on her body and stuff yknow,”

“Yeah, I know.” Mark says simply as he pulls the slightest of smiles, shifting his gaze from Sarah to you.

You see Jisung struggle to stifle a look in his face from the corner of your eyes, his hand gingerly coming up to cover his mouth, quickly picking up the restaurant menu before mindlessly looking through it.

“Oh yeah, I guess you would, you could see one peeking out on her wrist,” Sarah says as laughter bubbles out of her chest, taking the menu in one hand, “Alright now that that’s over with, let’s order everybody,”

Everyone talks about their orders with each other, while Mark and you sit in silence for a few minutes as you both browse the menu by yourselves.

Mark finally looks at you from the corners of his eyes.

“….Having trouble deciding?”

You chuckle, “Yeah.”

“Number 3 has beetroot in it,” Mark says.

“...Yeah, I know, but it’s so big. I won’t be able to finish it.” You reply.

“We can share.” He says.

You look at Mark, trying to figure this boy out, but decide upon yourself that it’d probably be the best outcome anyway since both of you love beetroot in burgers.

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea.” You respond.

“Cool.” Mark says.

“—What about you y/n? Have you decided yet? You always take ages to decide,” Sarah suddenly turns to you to ask in the midst of all the chatter.

“Oh, uh—”

“Yeah, she’ll be sharing with me, we’re getting number 3,” Mark chimes in.

“Oh. Okay, well, too bad I don’t like beetroot. Good thing Mark’s nice y/n,” Sarah says in response.

“Yeah, I guess,” You say.

Not too long after everyone finishes ordering, the orders arrive, and you’re greeted by the large burger you’re thankful to be sharing with someone else. You pick up your fork and knife to halve the burger.

“Let me.” Mark says, and before you knew it, he’s already in the middle of cutting your burger in half.

“Thanks, Mark.” You say to him, smiling. He just smiles back at you in response.

“....Yeah, he’s holding a birthday party next Saturday, at Scarlett Saturdays. I have an engineering essay due on the next Monday, but I’ll be going since he’s my bro and all,” You notice Jeno in the midst of his conversation with the others.

“Jaemin? You mean the Jaemin guy that went after y/n for the longest time?” Sarah asks in between bites. You notice Mark halts for a split second before he finishes cutting the burger.

“Is going after. He asked me to ask her to come. But knowing her, I didn’t even try,” He says, chuckling.

“Why don’t you go for it already, y/n? Even though he’s not really my type, I think he’s mad cute. Do you not think so?” Sarah says, turning to you.

“…I mean, yeah, he’s cute I guess. I don’t know.” You reply concisely, not really feeling like talking about that right now. You proceed to cut a small bite sized piece of the beetroot burger you’ve instead been thinking about for the past 10 minutes.

“Maybe think about it though. Just one night. Jaemin does seem like a bit of a flirt and a player, but I think he really does like you,” Jeno continues, munching on his burger.

“It’s about time you get some action don’t you think,” Sarah follows up on him.

You cough on your burger, startled by Sarah’s remark.

“Water,” Jisung readily hands you a new glass of water, as if on cue.

“Thanks, Ji,” You say, taking it from him, before gulping on it to ease your choking. God, it really seems like you’re not taking any breaks tonight. Not even to eat the beetroot burger you’ve come here to eat in the first place.

“Right? I think you really should go for it y/n,” Sarah insists, “You’re in uni, live your life instead of being inside all the time, watching anime and playing games or something,”

You sigh out, trying to ease the slight annoyance that’s starting to creep onto you. Would people just let you eat your goddamn beetroot burger already that’s starting to turn colder by the minute.

“Say, Jeno was it?” Mark suddenly says out of the blue, cutting his share of the burger, “You take chemical engineering? How far along are you in that report?”

“....Maybe 40 percent or something, probably not good enough.” Jeno muses, “You take the same class as I do, dude? Maybe we could shoot ideas to each other. Jaemin doesn’t take his studies too seriously.”

“Yeah, I’d be open to that.” Mark says, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

With that simple interruption, everyone finally drops the topic and goes back to eating. You sigh out in relief, finally revelling in the relative quietness.

You gently elbow Mark’s arm while smiling, “Thanks.”

He smiles back at you with those clear eyes that became overly familiar to you after yesterday night’s events. But before you get too deep in thought, and your burger gets even colder, you shake it off and continue eating.

That is, before you feel Mark’s thigh brush against yours, and continues eating while he lets your thighs touch, as if… He meant to do that in the first place. You figure that mulling over on these budding thoughts wouldn’t serve you well at the moment, it would only cloud your head even more, and so you finally choose to just ignore it.

“….Hey dude, what’s up? I’m eating right now,” Jeno says, after finally picking up his phone that’s been vibrating on the table for the past minute while the others continue eating.

“Yeah, I got Ben to join, probably a good idea to book 3 tables,” He says, “Can we call later? I’m with the others right now, it’s kinda rude—“

“Yeah, y/n’s here,”

You sigh out, knowing exactly who’s on the other side of the phone. Tired of dealing with the whole topic, you continue eating anyway.

“Yeah, yeah, I asked her dude. It’s a no go,” He continues, “Look, if we’re gonna be talking about this can we—”

“Dude we’re literally eating right now, I’m telling you that’s what she said,”

Jisung glances at you, knowing full well that you’re incredibly annoyed at this point but still keeping it under wraps.

“Fine but if you stuff up I’m not gonna do anything about it alright, I’m just the messenger,” He says, before putting the phone in front of you, prompting you to look up from your plate.

“It’s Jaemin. He wants to talk about the party.”

“Can’t he just call her phone directly instead of asking you to?” Jisung asks Jeno.

“He keeps on telling me she won’t pick up. Persistent, that guy.” Jeno replies.

You stare at Jeno in disbelief. Jeno’s actually a good guy, academically smart, but sometimes he could really be a blockhead, and it always surprises you how that part of him could annoy you to no end.

“What you waiting for y/n? Talk to him!” Sarah says excitedly.

To your complete surprise, Mark snatches the phone off of Jeno’s hand faster than everyone on the table could even register it in their minds.

“Hey dude, y/n’s not coming. Based on what I’m hearing, she’s really not into you. You don’t know me, my name’s Mark, and I’m really into her. Only difference is, she’s reciprocated in some ways. I wanted to do things in order with her, but I’m discovering it really doesn’t matter anyway. If she doesn’t like it, she won’t go for it. And she’s not going for it dude, at least not with you.”

[tragedy-for-sale]

I Miss my Brother

Featuring: Wrecker's internal monologue

I made a post some time again that explained Crosshair has to be a mathlete due to his sharp-shooter skills. Then recently, I came up with the idea that Tech always has Crosshair double check his downtime math. But since Crosshair isn't there, Tech's one wrong answer away from losing his shit. Also- another headcanon: Wrecker is very good with emotions, not his own, but others. He's good at comforting and can read someone's mood real quick.

◈ ━━━━━━ ◆ ━━━━━━ ◈

There are very few things that'll wake up Wrecker in an instant. A crashing ship, Crosshair's laugh, and Echo's cold metal feet against his not metal and not cold body. Oh, and of course, a cry. Yes, those are the four things that will get Wrecker up in a second. Which is why, when he heard a whimper, his eyes shot open. He sat up quietly, 'When they're upset, be slow and quiet, it'll keep them from giving into their stubborn instincts to shove everything down-'

Wrecker scanned the room and found Tech sitting at their fold out table, with several papers spread before him and the fast clicking of a calculator. 'Shit. He's doing math.' Wrecker would never understand how Tech stays on the ship to do math. 'Crosshair does that too but he just takes out all his snipers and giggles like a creep' Wrecker narrowed his eyes and shook his head, not the point. "Uh, Tech?" Wrecker asked.

"I thought I broke my calculator, but it just died." Tech looked up slowly, Tech's goggles had been pushed up, "Then I realized, I cannot use it while it's charging so I fixed that."

"Did you shock yourself or something?" Wrecker asked as he got up and sat across from Tech, who ran his hand through his hair, letting out a sigh.

"No, I've done this problem six times," He looked down and wrote something frantically, "Seven times." He corrected himself. He sounded exhausted, "I can't get passed this problem." Wrecker frowned, 'Tech's not wearing his glasses. Yeah, cause he's gonna cry, why do you think you woke up?!'

"Uh, why?" Wrecker asked as Tech rested his head on the table as he started the problem again. He picked up a piece of paper Tech had covered in the same problem, "I don't see what's wrong, you have plenty of formulas, and those you just plug things into."

"I don't either, Crosshair always checked my math and I know I am correct but I am feeling a great amount of discomfort without his reassurance." Tech whined as he erased his work and started to do the same problem again, for the eighth time, "Also... I'm not correct this time, I have gotten a different answer every time and I cannot figure out why."

Wrecker bit his check, sadness settling in as he watched Tech work frantically, he was stressing himself out, and when Tech stresses out, 'he'll psyche himself out which'll stress him out more. Tech: needs a solution as comfort, hugs won't comfort him, so don't hug him unless he hugs you!' Wrecker nodded to the voice in his head. 'Other solution bud!'

"You're stressed, you should take a quick break." Wrecker suggested.

"No, no I don't need a break, I need to figure out what I am doing wrong." Tech shook his head. Wrecker nodded, he could tell by the look of pure dismay on Tech's face, he was one more wrong answer away from a breakdown. Wrecker continued to watch Tech and tilted his head as Tech snapped his pencil, he grabbed his glasses and slammed them down, they hit the table and bounced to the floor, "I need Crosshair!" He cried, burying his head in his hands, 'I'm not as good as he is.'

"But he's not here-"

"Don't you think I know that?!" Tech hissed, looking up, Wrecker's mouth opened slightly, he hated seeing Tech so unhappy. It didn't even matter that Tech had yelled at him, 'He's in pain, and I'm not the brother he needs. What would the others do?,'

Wrecker begun to think, 'Echo: he'd sit there, pat him on the back, try to learn it and do it for Tech. No no, that wouldn't work, even if Echo solved it correctly, Tech wants to solve it himself and Echo won't remember what he did. So no on Echo, got it! Hunter: He'd make Tech take a break, he needs it, he's literally crying Wrecker! I know, Wrecker but that'll just postpone the solving of this problem and that stresses him out. So no on Hunter too, I guess? Okay, what about Omega? Omega? Wrecker, do you really wanna make her worry? Kid's don't solve grown-up problems, especially emotionally ones, we're all doing pretty shitty in that department so let's not make her think she has any other job besides being our child. Wait- was that Hunter's voice, what's he doing here?-'

Wrecker looked around, Hunter wasn't here, it was just him and Tech. Wait- he knew Hunter wouldn't be back for a while. Wait, not the point, Wrecker! He looked to his brother, 'Aw man, he's really not okay. Hurry up! Okay, okay, uh, us? Us?! Well, okay leeme think, Wrecker: Good at hugs, not as smart as Tech so I couldn't learn it on my own, I don't wanna postpone Tech's stress 'cause he's probably dehydrated and hungry. Not to mention he's been finding excusing not to sleep because without- oh! I know!'

"Oh! I know!" Wrecker looked up with a wide grin, "Teach it to me!" 'I won't understand shit but you'll slow down 'cause you know that makes it easier for me to follow. Hey! We're only talking about you here.' Wrecker made a face, one that disappeared when he saw Tech's face.

"What?" His voice was barely audible, he'd never felt this pathetic. Oh, and his face, it was forever embedded in Wrecker's mind, all the pain Tech easily stowed was so present, all the pain from Crosshair's abscene too. Wrecker had never felt more useless.

"...Uh, yeah, Walk me through the problem, you know how to do it,so by walking me through it, you'll catch whatever's wrong." Wrecker mumbled out, his voice was quiet, partly due to shock, but mainly fear. He didn't have another solution, 'We do actually, it's to pull him into a hug and just let him cry. He needs it, but the last time Tech cried-'

"That's... actually a good idea." Tech said slowly. In that moment, all of Wrecker's growing worry that his brother had finally broke, vanished. Tech slumped his shoulders as he stared at his crumpled papers and snapped pencil. "... It's a good idea, really, it is, but I just can't do this anymore." Tech sighed, standing up.

'Uh... What? That is NOT Tech talking, Wrecker you broke him, you broke our little brother, you big slug, you-' Wrecker's mind then truly stopped working as Tech hugged him. 'NOW THIS REALLY DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE-'

"I'm gonna take a nap instead." Tech mumbled, closing his eyes as he hugged his brother, "I need a very long nap that is actually classified as sleeping." Wrecker slowly nodded, as he wrapped his arms around Tech.

"...Yeah, we can do that." Wrecker said slowly as he walked them to a bed. "We can take a nap, that's an awesome idea Tech." Wrecker yawned, leaning back. "You're super cool and smart and occasionally funny and-" Wrecker had rambled but as they dozed to sleep, all he could say was, "..and I love you."

"I love you, too."

◈ ━━━━━━ ◆ ━━━━━━ ◈

[maybedefinitely404]

For You Became My Lighthouse (Part 2)

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing: romantic Prinxiety

Content: argument, crying, a decent dose of awkward but it gets resolved!

Word count: 4.1k

Comment: This is the fourth time I’ve tried to post this--- Part 1 HERE!

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

Roman ran a hand through his hair at the message, checking the time at the top of the screen. It was late, far too late, so it was safe to assume that Logan had heard about the spat from Virgil. He should have been home by now. It was just… impossible to convince himself to actually leave the rehearsal studio. He had a younger acting class tomorrow and was perfecting his lesson plan- even though he already knew it was perfect, and his director had already approved it. Just, anything to keep him from going home.

He’d been a dick. Such was obvious; from the second his finger had hit send, he regretted approximately everything in his life that had led to this moment. That day had been particularly bad, overrun with rehearsals he was either taking part in or directing, and gearing up for tech week of a large production. Who knew trying to block a scene with a flurry of pre-teens could take so much out of you? Rinse and repeat the cycle with two more classes to teach back to back and an achingly long dance rehearsal, add in a desperate and fruitless search for a replacement lead in his upcoming directorial debut, and you’d have what Roman would categorize as a “shit show of a day”. 

All he wanted to do at the end of it was spend some time with his boyfriend, without having to talk about his day, so he’d suggested the most basic date his fried brain could conjur. Then his work desk was unceremoniously reacquainted with his forehead as he smacked it into the wood, letting out a groan that bordered on a yell. Luckily, minutes ago everyone had abandoned the theatre, and he’d been trusted with the keys to lock up from a stagehand. He just had a couple more things to do, and then he could drive home. 

Getting a reply of denial from Virgil was nothing new. In fact, he’d been warned in the transition from reluctant acquaintanceship to inevitable friendship, that he tended to veto ideas if they were sudden, or too daunting, or if he was just feeling shitty. It was something that Roman never considered a deal breaker, and he’d slowly come to much rather enjoy a night of cuddling and watching television than going out anyways. Call it ‘getting old’, call it ‘Virgil’s homebody ways creeping into his psyche’. So usually, getting his plans rejected was no big deal. 

Except for today, when he was well and past his limit of frustration, and things not going to plan. He’d typed out and sent the snarky reply far before he’d thought it out whatsoever, and ranted out complaints that hadn’t ever crossed his mind before, which he immediately regretted. In a moment of shame so great it caused physical nausea, he tossed his phone into one of his desk drawers and slammed it shut. 

It buzzed once, twice, and then went silent. 

Until, of course, it began to go berserk an indecipherable amount of time later, and Roman couldn’t ignore it. Seeing Logan’s text, along with about a million missed calls from him and Patton, broke the fragile sense of calm he’d tried to achieve while working. 

He didn’t want to go home and face his consequences. Childish, yes. Well deserved, also yes, but he was afraid of Virgil’s inevitable anger. If this led to a breakup, a fight that wasn’t recoverable, he’d never forgive himself. 

And now…

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

I can see you’ve read my text message.

-Logan

I’m at work. 

You’re inconceivably moronic. Get home. Now.

-Logan

Roman sighed heavily through his nose, clenching his jaw. He began typing out another snarky response- because apparently he never learned- when another text came through.

Virgil was in significant distress last I spoke to him and he has stopped answering me and Patton. Go. Home.

-Logan

Please. If not for my sake, then for Virgil’s.

-Logan

Fuck.

Roman barely had the sense to lock the doors of the building in his rush, throwing the spare key back in through the mail slot and booking it to his car. He sent some sort of confirmation that he was going and tossed the phone to his back seat. Virgil hated when he used it while driving.

It was only on the drive back, on unusually empty roads, did he realize it was well past nine. He hadn’t even noticed the time passing by.

Most of the lights in the apartment complex were still on when he pulled into the car park, but their window visible on this side showed only darkness. He wasn’t used to entering a dark apartment.

Their flat was silent, the living room only illuminated by the oven clock and the dim city lights from the balcony. He toed off his shoes as silently as he could, wincing when he kicked their shoe rack, and decided he’d risk turning on the light. When he finally found the switch and flicked it on, he couldn’t help his gasp. 

The room had once been a pristine display, he could tell. A white table cloth adorned their usually bare dining room table and a half burned candle stood as its centrepiece. He approached it in a daze, cautiously resting a hand on the plate of ravioli nearest to him. Cold. Long cold; the pasta was starting to get crusty. 

He picked up the two plates, intent on throwing out the food. It definitely wasn’t safe to eat anymore, and he didn’t feel like warding off an attack of ants in the morning. One of the towels hanging off the oven handle was drenched in what looked like marinara sauce, and it looked like there was some more spilled in the crack between the stove and the counter. That would be fun to clean. 

Both hands full, he opened the cupboard containing the garbage bin with a socked foot, and promptly froze. 

Part of him cringed at the clang the dropped plates made on the counter, but the louder part of him was just repeating a mantra of ‘holy shit, holy shit, holy shit’ and it was considerably out-screaming the other. Hands now shaking, Roman picked up the small box from the sink edge, ignoring the dried, crunchy texture of more tomato sauce on the outside, and opened it. 

It took every ounce of strength for Roman not to collapse to his knees, guilt instantly crushing the air from his lungs, a thousand times heavier than it had been before. An elaborate dinner, a ring… there had been a plan. That’s why Virgil had rejected his offer to go out. 

And he’d been such a dick to him. 

Speaking of which, where was he?

Roman closed the box and set it back where it had been. Their bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the most obvious place Virgil would be, so he padded over and creaked it open just a bit more. The light from the hallway cast a beam onto the bed, illuminating first a mess of hastily thrown clothes; his button up shirt he only used for fancy occasions on top of the pile. 

Virgil’s huddled form was easy to make out, curled away from the door, his only movement being the steady rise and fall of the blanket as he breathed. Figaro lifted his head from where he was settled in the crook of Virgil’s knees and gave Roman an indifferent mrow. 

He couldn’t get into bed with him. There was no scenario where that was the right move. It wasn’t the right time to talk about what had happened, not so late and when they were both riding high on emotions and tiredness, so accidentally waking Virgil was not the way to go. And even if he was sneaky enough to not wake him… a part of him just felt it was wrong. Not when he didn’t know Virgil’s stance on him at the moment.

Or his stance on the relationship.

Well, couch it was. He acknowledged the crumpled weighted blanket and sound blocking headphones- clear aftermath of a bad panic attack- with a quiet curse. Somehow that pit in his stomach got even bigger, making him nauseous as his shame took a physical form. 

He could only pray that they would come back from this. 

Roman’s sleep was fitful, to say the least. At best, he drifted into a state of half-consciousness, where his thoughts could be somewhat quieted down, but the discomfort of the couch and the heavy weight in his heart were still palpable. Inevitably, one of their neighbors would make a noise or the building would make a settling creak or a distant dog would bark, and the state would be broken, leaving Roman wide awake and wracked with guilt once more. He’d never noticed how loud the world was until he wanted nothing more than for the noise to stop. 

The sun was just peaking into the window when their bedroom door widened and Roman flew up, using the back of the couch to steady his sudden sitting position. When their eyes met from across the room, Virgil in his pajamas and face hidden in shadow, a tenseness settled over the room that neither had experienced in their relationship thus far. Virgil froze in the doorway, wavering slightly. It didn’t appear he wanted to be the one to break the silence. 

Roman stood slowly, as though not to spook him.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Virgil whispered with a sniff, and even in that one word Roman could hear the scratchiness of his voice. “I just...uhm,” He cleared his throat, “I just wanted to get some water. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake. No… no worries.” 

Virgil looked down to his feet. “When did you come back?”

“I think just before ten.”

“‘Kay.”

For an all too long moment, both of them seemed to find interest in every part of the room that wasn’t the other’s eyes. It wasn’t until Roman looked towards the kitchen in his awkwardness did he process what Virgil had come out for. 

“I’ll, um…” He pointed weakly to the kitchen and finally convinced his feet to move, filling up a glass from the sink while making a conscious effort to not look at the dishes or wasted food from the evening before. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop the way his gaze drifted towards the box sitting next to the tap, and judging by Virgil’s sharp inhale, the look hadn’t been subtle. 

He took the glass back to the other, watching him take it with an uncomfortable, “Thanks.”

Virgil downed the glass in one go, his shaking hands almost causing him to spill. He barely had time to take a breath before Roman had zipped the empty glass back onto the counter.

“Do you want more?” He asked, already refilling the glass.

“No, I’m… it’s okay.” 

Roman placed the full glass on the counter quietly and the two were swallowed by heavy silence once again. The clock ticked impossibly loud as they stood, fidgeting, wanting this moment to be over but not wanting to be the one to start it. 

Virgil took a shuddering breath and wrung his hands together.

Roman stared resolutely at a single water drop making its way down the glass.

This was his fault. He’d started it. It seemed only right that he break the tension that almost suffocated him, so even as his mind screamed for him to shut up and every muscle in his body turned to liquid, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Virgil, I-”

“I’m sorry.”

That effectively stopped Roman in his tracks. All night, he’d crafted a collection of apologies, from eloquent monologues to stumbling pleas for forgiveness, but in not one of his countless scenarios had Virgil apologized. 

“I know… I know I can be a lot to handle, I know, I swear. And I was more outgoing when we first met, because I thought I had something to prove and it always exhausted me and I hated it but then we became… I don’t know, official? And closer and… and more comfortable and I didn’t think I had to do that anymore, I didn’t have to keep pushing myself so far!”

“V, stop-”

“The panic attacks and the anxiety and all that shit are a lot for other people and I know that but I didn’t know it was too much for you, I didn’t know you were tired of that and I can be better, I swear, I swear I can go back to how I was in the beginning, just please don’t leave.”

Virgil let out a choked sob and Roman couldn’t stop himself from rushing forward, intent on holding his stupid, stupid boyfriend until he realized this was in no way his fault, only for Virgil to back up before he could do so.

“I’m- I’m not trying to guilt you, I’m sorry, I just, I love you, and I can be better, I can, just give me a chance, please-”

“Virgil, baby, come here.”

This time when he reached forward, Virgil allowed himself to be pulled into his boyfriend’s chest, basically collapsing against him as soon as Roman’s arms tightened around him. The dam broke moments later and Virgil finally let go of his own hands to grab the back of Roman’s shirt with a sense of urgency.

“Please don’t leave, I’m so sorry,” he begged raspily into Roman’s shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” 

Roman hung onto him almost as tightly in return, rocking them back and forth, finally allowing himself to cry. He shoved his face into Virgil’s hair, peppering small kisses and apologies to the crown of his head in between sobs. 

Virgil whined when Roman finally pulled away, but he didn’t go far, cradling his boyfriend’s face in his hands and wiping his tacky cheeks with his thumbs.

“Virgil, I cannot apologize enough for yesterday.”

“What are-” he hiccuped, “What are you talking about? It was my fault.”

“No, no, no no no no no,” Roman whispered, fighting that damn lump in his throat once more. “I had a spectacularly shitty day, and I took it out on you. I was leagues out of line. It wasn’t fair to you and I’m so, so unbelievably sorry.” 

As if the strings were cut on a marionette, all the tenseness dissolved from Virgil’s shoulders and he slumped forward, bumping his head weakly into Roman’s chest. “Can we sit down?”

“Yeah, of course.” Roman clumsily led him to the couch and sat on the adjacent cushion, assuming that if Virgil wanted to talk, he’d want his own space. His assumption was incorrect, however, judging by how Virgil crossed the space almost instantly and buried himself in Roman’s side like a koala. He shifted them both until he was laying on his back, Virgil splayed across him .

“I thought you’d be more upset with me,” He muttered, freeing his hand to run it through Virgil’s hair. His fingers raked through his own tears trapped in the locks and he grimaced.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now,” responded Virgil, accompanied by a shuddering breath, “I just need to know that you’re really here. And I need you.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching the sun begin to peek through their window, until Virgil spoke again sardonically.

“If this is a dream, I’m gonna be so pissed.”

Roman snorted despite himself and felt Virgil’s responding half-laugh from where he was tucked against him.  

“I agree. I thought I’d fucked up for good this time.”

A disgruntled meow made Roman crane his neck over the couch, watching Figaro stretch languidly in their bedroom doorway. The cat sidled over to his food bowl and sat pointedly next to it. Feed me. 

“Later, Figaro,” Roman groaned, all too comfortable with Virgil as his blanket. A small part of him was worried that if he moved them at all, the spell would be broken, and they’d lose whatever peace they’d settled into. 

Well, that wouldn’t do at all, not by Figaro’s standards. The cat gave an upset mewl and trotted over to the couch, leaping up with grace and batting Virgil’s legs. It was that pettish action that made Roman realize that Virgil had turned stone still on his lap. Figaro changed his approach to headbutting at his arm in a clear attempt to get pets, but Virgil’s hand stayed still by their sides. 

“What’s going through your head?” Roman murmured. 

“That stuff you said, about me… not contributing to the relationship…” Virgil croaked, and Roman stilled,  “What can I do to-… to fix that? Because I wanna fix it.”

“Baby, no,” Roman whispered, that shame-nausea returning, “I-” He groaned, dropping his head onto the arm of the couch behind him, “I was being an asshole. I didn’t mean that.”

Virgil didn’t budge, still deliberately ignoring Figaro’s futile begging for attention. “Then where did it come from?”

He took a breath deep enough that Virgil rose and fell with his chest, and Roman was struck with the profound urge to pull him closer and never let him go. But that would likely make him feel trapped, and that wasn’t productive. “You remember when I dragged you to that improv show my students put on last year?”

“You introduced me as your boyfriend and we found out the class had placed bets on whether you were gay or not. I don’t know how it wasn’t obvious.”

Roman gasped in mock offense. “Maybe they just were trying not to stereotype!”

“Your phone case is a rainbow-”

“Anyways!” He interrupted, resuming his gentle threading through Virgil’s hair, who snorted but otherwise gave in to the affection. “Remember what happened after?”

“Mmhm.”

It had been a fantastic show, and Roman had been exceedingly proud of his little students, especially since it was his first time ever teaching a class. After the night, when the betting chaos had settled and everyone quickly adopted Virgil as theirs now, they’d pleaded to play a few more improv games before the theatre closed. Seeing as it was their last class, hence the performance in the first place, Roman had acquiesced. But neither of the men had expected for the gang of pre-teens to latch onto Virgil and beg him to play too, despite him having zero theatre experience. 

“Remember what they said?”

“They tried to pack all your lectures into five minutes of information.”

“I don’t lecture, I dazzle.” 

“They thought you were straight.” 

“Only some, and that’s not the point!”

Virgil finally lifted his head, pulling his hands up so he could lay his chin on top of them. He smiled weakly. “Then what is the point?”

“The most important rule of improv is to keep the scene going. No matter what nonsense you have to pull out, just never leave a scene flat.”

There was a quiet moment while the other processed that before, once again, that layer of hurt reappeared on his face. He pushed himself off Roman’s chest in preparation to get up. “So… you’re saying you saw that argument as another scene you had to keep up.”

“No, shit, that came out wrong,” Roman insisted, and Virgil paused suspiciously, “I’m saying, that in a moment of panic, I fell back on bullshitting my way through it! That’s literally what I do for a living!” 

The distrust gave way to resignment and Virgil chewed on his cheek, turning his attention to the window. He sat all the way up on Roman’s legs, leaning back on his shins. “How do I know you’re not bullshitting me right now?” He said. 

“Because,” Roman followed him up, careful not to move his legs and dislodge his boyfriend, “You know I like when the bed is made, and even though you hate making it, you always do when I’m out of the house before you.”

Virgil looked down at his thumb.

“Because you let me choose the music in the car.”

“... you don’t like loud music,” He muttered, picking at the skin around his cuticle.

“You adjust your work schedule to come to every single one of my shows.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, but you hate working mornings. You let me rant about all my theatre stuff, even if you don’t get any of it.”

“I’m learning.” A faint smile was breaking through.

“You tell me when there’s spinach in my teeth, or my hair is messy, or if I’m acting like an asshole.”

“Well, that’s easy enough.”

Roman reciprocated the smile at that, taking Virgil’s hands in his own to stop the attack at his nail. “I’ve been watching you better yourself for years, even if it’s been really, really hard.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Virgil asked with a small blush, switching his fidgeting tactic to fiddling with Roman’s fingers. 

“Every time you do something that betters yourself, you help us, Virgil.” He leaned forward slowly, giving Virgil the time to move away if he wanted to, and rested their foreheads together. “Yesterday, I fucked up. Badly. You said you were anxious and I still acted like a dick. I kinda thought you’d hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Virgil whispered, seemingly before he had a chance to process it, because his blush multiplied tenfold. Roman grinned. 

“Aw, is someone feeling sappy?”

“Shut up, jackass,” He retorted, bonking their heads together ever so gently. 

“I’m so sorry, Virgil,” Roman said after their giggles and blushes had faded, “It won’t happen again, I swear.” 

In lieu of answering, Virgil closed the already scant distance between their lips, and despite Roman using all of his self control to not sigh into it, he found himself doing so anyways. All the tension bled out of his shoulders at once as Virgil pulled away, pressing one more peck to the tip of his nose, and then leaning back with a small smile. 

“So… that means we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

“Thank god,” Roman groaned, flopping back and dropping his arm over his eyes dramatically. He heard Virgil’s quiet snicker before he resumed his job as a blanket. Except this time, instead of nuzzling his head into Roman’s neck, he could feel the distinct edge of a chin digging into his sternum.

The hand lifted from his eyes to see Virgil staring at him, that goofy little smirk on his face. 

“What?”

“I love you, idiot.”

Well, now they were wearing matching goofy little smirks. 

“I love you too.” 

That seemed to satiate him, because he gave a little nod and laid his head more comfortably on the other’s chest. He could have left the conversation there, content to just let them lay there in peace until the world fell away- or Figaro grew more insistent on being fed- but Roman just couldn’t banish the one persistent thought in the back of his mind. 

“Were you actually going to propose?” He blurted.

Virgil tensed for a moment, and then gave a resigned sigh. “...Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Roman furrowed his eyebrows, desperately hoping he sounded casual, though his heart was pounding far too loudly to not be heard, “I would have said yes. If you did.”

“Oh?” Virgil lifted his head. “You’re blushing, Princey.” He could hear the smug grin.

“Nooo…” Roman whined. His arm draped once more over his eyes in a weak attempt to hide the redness, but he drew it away only moments later when Virgil didn’t retort. 

The man was staring at him with an odd mix of disappointment and amusement, huffing out a breath as he watched Roman’s eyes.

“This wasn’t how I was planning to propose,” He sighed, “It was supposed to be all perfect, and romantic, and stuff. And the surprise is ruined now.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Roman, continuing before Virgil could cut him off, “If it’s any consolation, I think a proposal in our pajamas, on the couch, would be very us.”

“You’re not in pajamas.”

“I slept in these clothes, they count as pajamas.”

Virgil snickered. Roman counted five breaths as the other’s face melted from a smile to anxiously knit brows, worrying his lip between his teeth as he looked down at him. It took another three for him to speak.

 “So…uh... will you…?”

Roman’s face split into a grin, “Yes, Virgil. Obviously.” 

Virgil’s expression morphed to match his and he swooped down to kiss him again, though they barely could with how much they were smiling. They both devolved into giggles, happy to just stay wrapped in each other’s arms, until Virgil broke away with a gasp.

“Let me grab the ring!”

“Ring can wait,” Roman argued, tightening his grip around his waist to keep him in place, “I want cuddles.”

And so they did.

Taglist:

@max-is-tired

@private-snippers

@joylessnightsky

@marshymoop

@larkiaquail

@noemiescuriosity

@mycatshuman

@cirishere

@vpow

@ray-does-stuff

@sirprplsnail

[iliumheightnights]

Piloting your heart | Poe Dameron x Male Reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Male Reader

Summary: Poe is crashing hard on you, another pilot. Now he just has to find the courage to tell you.

A/N: Another cowrite with @inhumanshadows​, this time we’re writing for Poe! It’s been a hot second since I’ve got a Poe story out and it makes me happy.

…

Poe was dodging the blaster fire of the TIE fighters chasing him. "Blast. I just need a good get around." BB8 beeped in acknowledgment. "Keep an eye out BB!" He continued to doge while trying to find a clear opening to turn around.

"I got ya!" Before he knew it your B-wing came swooping in. Powering up your canons you shot out your laser hitting all of the TIEs in one swoop. "WWOOOAAAH! That's what I'm talking about! You're all clear Poe!"

"Right! Thanks (Y/N)!" Poe hit in the coordinates for hyperspace while you did the same. "See you back at the base."

"Not if I see you first."

You couldn't see from your ship but Poe was blushing hard.

You circled back, headed towards the base informing the general as well as the hangar crew of what transpired. You landed in the hangar with no problems, jumping out while the other crew members started to look over the ship and see what needed repairs.

You gasp as you take off your helmet, running your fingers through your sweaty hair. Before leaving to head to your quarters, you see Poe's X-wing land. 

"Looks like I win Poe!!" You shout as you leave.

Poe only shook his head. "Show off." The cockpit opened and Poe took off his helmet, shaking out his hair. Stepping down the ladder, BB8 was set beside him. "Good job BB. Another good mission." Bwoop.

"So you're saying (Y/N) DIDN'T need to save you?" The familiar voice of Finn said behind him.

"Oh ha ha. I could have taken them out if he hadn't intervened."  Boop. "You little traitor! If you like him so much go be his droid."

Bwoop Beep "No! Don't you 'Fine I will' me!!." Poe says, face in shock.

Finn rolls his eyes at his dramatic friend. "so... when are you gonna do it man?"

Poe stops glaring at his droid to look at Finn confused. "Do what? Let BB-8 be Y/N's droid? Never"

"No..." Finn sighs. "when are you gonna ask Y/N out on a date? I mean now would be best, the First Order is quiet and we're all here..."

Poe blushed. "I don't know what you're talking about." He set his helmet on a tool box and averted his gaze to look anywhere other than Finn.

Finn only laughed at him before clapping his shoulder. "Poe, buddy. The First Order's getting more bold and we never know what'll happen. You should take the chances that are in front of you. I see the way you look at him and I see how he looks at YOU. You can talk to him on missions, why can't you just do it now?"

Poe finally sighed and gave in. "Fine. I just...don't know how to talk to him. It's different when we're on a mission, on a mission we know we're partners looking out for each other. When we're not..." Poe got quiet.

"When you're not you're back to being just people. Don't worry, just talk to him. The worst thing he can do is say no...which I KNOW he won't." Finn gave a pat to his shoulder before leaving. "Come on BB, Rey wanted you to help her train." BEEP!

Poe just watches as Finn and his droid disappear around a corner. Poe didn't want to admit it but Finn had a point. He shouldn't have a problem talking to you when you're out of the cockpits.

"Won't know unless I try will I?" He asks the empty hallway. 

Well... first stop... a shower, He tells himself.

While in the shower Poe couldn't help but let his mind wonder about all the possibilities that could happen with him asking. The worst you could say was no. No that wasn't the worst! You could laugh at him, you could get angry, maybe you wouldn't want to be anywhere near him anymore. There were lots of bad possibilities and Poe didn't like it. He hadn't realized he was trying to talk himself out of talking to you until he realized he had been in the shower for almost twenty minutes. 

"Oh...Karabast."

Turning off the shower he stepped out a dried off with a towel. Once he was tried off he slipped on some underwear and began to clean up. Somehow, he still had enough courage to talk to you and he was going to be sure he looked good. Going to his closet he pulled out his new jacket, a shirt and some firm fitting pants. Once he was fully dressed he gave one last pep talk to himself in the mirror. "You can do this. You've talked to him lots of times. Just pretend you're on a mission."

After a few more moments of psyching himself up in the mirror, Poe turned towards the door. 

It flung open with a loud fwoosh and Poe let out a very manly squeak.

“Oh hey Poe.” You said, waving. “I- um was wondering if you wanted to get our usual post battle drinks?”

For a while Poe didn't respond, just looked at you. Of course you'd already be there.

"Hello? You alright Poe?"

You waved a hand in front of his face and it snapped him out of his trace. His face turned bright red. "I'm fine." His voice cracked and he noticed, so did you. "I-I mean I'm fine. Yeah let's get drinks." He didn't wait for an answer before he slipped past you and began walking to the cantina. You stared at him confused but ultimately shrugged and followed him

The two of you got to the cantina and took a seat at the bar. "I'll take a glass of Naboo Nector."

"And I'll have a Tatooine sunset please."

The bar droid got to work on your drinks and it got quiet between the two of you. "So..." You said first.

"So..." He said after.

Come on Poe! Say something!!

“Nice flying out there Y/N! Way to save my ass..” He says awkwardly.

Really??? That’s what he decided to say???

You stare at him after he says that and can't help but laugh.

"Oh my god! You really suck at this don't you?"

Poe blushed again and looked away. "What do you mean? I was just saying-"

"I know what you were saying. And thanks but what do you really have on your mind? I've never seen you act this awkward before and honestly it's both adorable and scary." You laughed again causing him to groan.

You pat his back as he sips at his drink. "Hey... relax. it's just me. You can talk to me about anything man."

"anything?" Poe asks. You nod. "Okay so I like this guy and he's just so awesome and cool. But I don't know how to talk to him without being weird."

"Okay... well I mean Finn's pretty chill so..."

"Finn? Who said anything about Finn?"

"Oh! I just thought...You and Finn are so close so I figured that's who you were talking about."

Poe laughed and took another drink. "Finn's great but he's not the one I'm talking about." He then got enough courage and looked you in the eyes. "I'm talking about someone else."

You gulp as you look him in the eyes. Not really sure what to say now, any sort of confidence you had was quickly fading. "So...who ARE you talking about?" Your voice was getting more quiet.

He only smiled. "I think you know."

You look at him confused and try to wrack your brain.

“Oh... OH!! You mean me?” You ask.

“Yes you ya dork. I like you a lot. Like really like you.”

You blush as he says that but soon you can't stop the wide smile that grows on your face. "Really? I-I like you too."

You look him in the eyes again and when you look at him you can't help but seem him in a different light. He no longer was just a friend, he was and always has been, someone you cared deeply for.

[sapphic-yearning-lesbian]

This is chapter two (Chapter one)

Nurse Namaari struggles with the idea of visiting her past patient Raya, but caves.

Warnings: Brief mentions of addiction, and survivor’s guilt. 

Word Count: 2533

--

Three days later

Namaari was sitting in her office writing reports when she heard a knock on the door. "Come in," She said as the door slowly opened.

"Hello, It's Sisu; I'm a Psych nurse, we've seen each other multiple times around the ER, but you officially meet me while I was comforting Raya, a past patient of yours. Could I possibly speak with you?" Sisu confidently states while poking her head through the crack of the door.

Namaari raised an eyebrow, shocked to see Sisu at her door. Nevertheless, she nodded. How could she forget that day? Raya's pale body...Sisu's screams...

Snap out of it!

Because of Hippa, Namaari was not allowed to check on Raya. Once a patient leaves the ER, they are no longer her patients, and she has no say in their care, and nine times out of ten, she'll never know if they survived. "Of course. Come take a seat," She finally answers as she motions with her hands that Sisu sits across from her.

Sisu nervously walks over to the chair, sitting down. She looks at a Namaari whose eyes are locked on her purple ones. She chuckles. "This isn't me talking to a coworker, okay. This is me talking to my friend about another friend." Sisu states as she watches Namaari's eyebrows raise before she nods yes, "Raya is in the cardiovascular/pulmonary unit. She survived the emergency surgery! She's still recovering, but she has made it clear she wants the gorgeous nurse that saved her life to visit her."

Namaari was extremely relieved but also confused. "Wait, what? She isn't your girlfriend?" Namaari asked as Sisu's face turned bright red, and she burst out in laughter.

"Hahaha, no! We dated for like a week during nursing school, but we never clicked romantically; We've been best friends ever since tho." Sisu managed to say between her laughter. Once she was able to control herself, she continued talking, "Anyways, she is in the J6 unit in the room: J601," Sisu says with a smirk before standing up from the chair; walking to the door, before stopping to say, "If you visit her, don't do it as a nurse. She's not looking for another member of her health care team. She wants to get to know the YOU who isn't a nurse." With that said, Sisu walks out, closing the door behind her.

Namaari sits at her desk, even more confused. She leans into her chair, thinking for a moment. She really found this girl alluring in every sense, but how was she supposed to chase after a girl she talked to for two minutes before she practically died in her arms. Not practically! She did die!

Maybe that's the reason.

What a great love story would it be...

When Namaari finished her shift three days ago, she broke down: She hadn't cried like that in years! She does remember crying somewhat similarly when she lost her first patient five years ago, but it was a different kind of sadness.

The truth is death was something Namaari had grown accustomed to. Of course, she felt emotional distress when a patient died, but when Raya flatlined; It shattered her.

She often found herself running through the event over and over in her head, trying to pinpoint how she didn't realize the gasps for air between Raya's flirting, where she struggled to breathe.

She should have seen the signs.

She should have realized Raya's heart was straining itself to keep her alive; that's why her blood pressure and pulse skyrocketed before they plummeted.

No matter how many times she runs the scenario in her head, she always blames herself.

When in reality, Namaari is excellent at her job. She has ample experience and education.

Yes, Raya's smile ultimately left her defenseless, but Namaari stood her ground.

Yes, Namaari's heart was fluttering for her patient, but she still put those feelings aside to save her life. Maybe she should stop scolding herself and accept that life is unpredictable.

And one thing holds true: Namaari felt immense attraction for Raya, but she still acted professionally.

Namaari blinked a few times, trying to pull herself out of her thoughts before bringing her hands up to her face, gently rubbing circles into her temples. "What has she done to you?". She asked herself as she laughed and looked at the time; 4 PM, her shift will be over in three hours. After her shift finishes, she'll shower quickly in the staff showers and change into clean scrubs. She scoffs when she realizes she'll have to wear blueberry-colored scrubs; that's the only colored scrubs the hospital provides.

The hospital has their staff color-coded, adult nurses wear grey scrubs, child nurses wear pink, x-ray technicians wear black, pharmacists and phlebotomists wear light blue, nursing assistants wear burgundy, and surgical residents wear blueberry-colored scrubs. Actually, most residents wear blueberry scrubs, but most commonly, you'll see surgical residents marching around the hospital in their blueberry scrubs.

--

"OWW OWW OWWW," Raya screams as a surgical resident removes the chest tube that was once allowing the excess air pooled in her chest cavity to escape her body, caused by her collapsed lung. It was no longer needed as the punched lung was fixed during her emergency surgery; they should have taken it out before but hadn't, fearing her lung could collapse again.

Raya felt utterly stupid. She was an extraordinary nurse, and she knew the signs of a collapsed lung, pneumothorax, but she ignored them.

If she thinks back to that day in the ER, she can vividly remember her chest burning in pain; shortness of breath, lightheadedness, an elevated pulse, and finally, the icing on the cake, her left shoulder hurt: All tale signs that her broken rib punctured her lung. Yet, she chose to ignore the warnings.

At least now, she can fully understand the power of adrenaline on someone's mind and body. It can genuinely make you believe that severe pain is minimal and that you'll be okay.

"Sorry, Ms.Hart. Do you want me to press on your magic pain button" The resident stated, causing Raya to stare back at them with frowning eyebrows before nodding no.

Raya was given a medicine button she can press for narcotics every so often, but she was trying not to press the button unless she really needed to. She knows firsthand how quickly people can get addicted to those meds.

The resident chuckled. "Sorry, I forgot you're a nurse, and I don't need to call it a magic button." Raya faked a smile before chuckling. She wasn't trying to be mean at all, but she hated being on the other side. Raya loved being the nurse, and suddenly she's the patient.

The resident smiled once more before excusing themselves out.

"You can stop fake smiling now," Sisu said.

She was curled up on a couch against the window. She had her eyes closed as she was sleeping. "Ughhh, I'm going to be late to my shift," She said, opening her eyes, noticing the clock on the wall before standing up from the couch, where she stretched before smiling. "Nightshift is the bestttt" She joked as she folded the sheets she was using to sleep.

"You must be exhausted! You haven't left the hospital in three days because of your back and forth from your shifts to watching me!! Go home, sleep in your own bed, and shower with shampoo that actually cleans your hair because your hair looks a mess right now." Raya sighed as she sat up in the bed, looking at Sisu with pleading eyes.

"You're my best friend, Raya!" Sisu stated as she finished folding the sheets and turned to look at Raya with tears beginning to pool in her eyes. "You dead...I watched you die." She exhaled as solo tears escaped her eyes; she quickly wiped them away with her thumbs.

Raya was looking at Sisu with sorrow and regret. She knew getting into a fight with Tong was stupid, and they didn't mean to injure each other terribly, but somehow they did. However, she knew she couldn't keep this conversation going as Sisu had 10 minutes to get to the psych department for her shift. So instead, she smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Note to self! Never die again." This statement caused Sisu to chuckle as she picked up her overnight bag; that holds her clean scrubs.

Sisu quickly walks over to Raya, side hugging her gently to not hurt her before pressing a quick kiss on her cheek. "I got to go. If anything happens, please call my office, okay! I MEAN IT." She stated firmly before running out the door.

Raya sighed before she burst out in tears. She had been playing strong for Sisu, but she was in shock. She was sure her best friend knew, but Raya really wasn't ready to talk about it. Raya knew deep down that she was having survives guilt, an overpowering and almost dominating emotion.

Her tears soon became sobs, and she felt her body begin to shake. She knew it was a panic attack, so she began to take deep breaths to calm herself.

Eventually, the trembling stopped while her tears persisted; her body was weakened by the energy needed to cry. She was also physically distressed now as each sob caused a painful sting to travel up her spine.

So she finally pressed her medicine button.

As time went by, her tears lessened, and her pain was managed. Soon enough, she found herself drifting off to sleep.

--

"You're the girlfriend?" Some unknown voice asked.

"Yeah, sure." She heard Namaari's voice hesitantly answer. "I've been in here for an hour, and she just doesn't wake up. Is everything okay?"

The other voice hummed as the conversation amused her. "I'm looking at her patient chart, and it only says to release personal information to Sisudatu." The unknown voice said,  probably her night nurse. "HIPPA Man. I wanna help you, but--"

"Yea, I know. It was worth a try, though." Namaari answered, sighing.

"She's just tired. Look closely at her face; maybe you can figure out why she is so exhausted--ANYWAY, press on the call light if you need anything, or poke your head outside the door. Great to meet you...girlfriend Namaari." The nurse chuckled; it was clear she didn't believe that.

Raya so badly wanted to open her eyelids, but they felt so heavy. She tried to speak, but she was too tired to make words. So as she heard Namaari sit on the chair next to her bed, gently grabbing her call button (that's also a tv remote), turning it on. With the very little energy she had, she smiled as she drifted to sleep once again.

--

Nammari woke up curled up in a chair. She looked to her left, seeing a snoring Raya in her patient bed. She smiled, noticing the puffy eyes were gone.

When she came in yesterday around eight pm, she found Raya passed out with red puffy eyes. Tears had stained her cheeks, and her eyebrows frowned. Namaari knew she probably cried herself to sleep before she got there; she even tried to confirm it with her night nurse but to no avail. She yawned as she brought her left hand up to her eye level to look at her watch. 7:30 AM.

She lightly rubbed her tired eyes as someone burst into the room. She removed her hands from her eyes, spotting a very tired Sisu pulling the curtain open. Once Sisu noticed her, a wide smile spread on her face; she turned and noticed Raya was sleeping, so she whispered, "Hey, Namaari. Great to see you! Did you just get here?" She said excitedly as she yawned, placing her bag on the floor; Quickly shuffling to the couch that folds out to a bed.

"I came yesterday, but she was sleeping. It looked like she shouldn't be left alone, so I kinda fell asleep here," Namaari replied as she watched Sisu unfold some sheets, probably getting ready to sleep, she presumed. "I don't work today. I can stay with her..." She began to say as Sisu's eyes shot up from the couch to meet her's with a massive grin on her face.

"Are you completely sure?" Sisu asked, raising an eyebrow. Namaari noticed the eyebags and the apparent exhaustion. She nodded yes before opening her mouth to speak but was cut off by another voice. Raya's voice.

The voice Namaari's been repeatedly hearing in her mind. Precisely when Raya called her a 'godly woman.' Thinking back to that moment made her blush.

"She's... *yawn* ...giving you... *yawn* ..an out.. *yawn* ...take it," Raya stuttered as her eyelids fluttered open. She noticed Namaari first on her right and smiled but brought her gaze back to her best friend. "Go home. It's been four days now. I'm okay."

Sisu tilted her head to the side, looking at Raya with knowing eyes. She turned to look at Namaari. "Raya had a panic attack after I left. That's why she was so exhausted; I'm assuming it's survivor's guilt, but I'm her best friend, so I'm not allowed to evaluate her." Sisu said while crossing her arms across her chest, raising her eyebrows before turning her gaze to Raya. "I'm scared to leave again," She admitted as her tone became soft.

"I'm very much capable of taking care of her," Namaari stated. She knew this current situation was unusual. Truthfully a part of her wanted to leave, believing she didn't deserve even a slimmer of a chance of happiness. However, something kept her there—the desire to TRY and get to know Raya.

Namaari was very self-aware that if she let the opportunity of getting to know Raya personally slip, she would always wonder, what if . Because the truth is, if it doesn't work out, then she can at least say she tried.

Sisu uncrossed her arms and looked over at Namaari. "As a friend?" Sisu questioned Namaari, "Or as a nurse?"

Namaari chuckled. "I'm not part of her medical staff," She stated as she raised her hands in defeat. "I'm here as a friend."

"I thought you said we were girlfriends tho? Or was I dreaming?" Raya randomly blurted, both the other girls looking at her. Sisu's face showing confusion, and Namaari's embarrassment.

"OKAYYY, that's my queue to leave! Tong should be here around 2 PM so you can go home, Namaari." Sisu said, winking at Raya before grabbing her bag and walking out of the room.

Namaari's heart was beating faster, realizing she was alone with Raya. Her cheeks burning as if they were on fire. She turned to look at her and found she was already staring and smiling at her. "Was it a dream?" Raya asked again as she slowly sat up, clutching her chest.

"No, it wasn't a dream," Namaari whispered as she brought her hands down, looking at them.

Namaari was unsure how the next few hours would unveil. All she was certain of was:

She is sitting in a past patient's room.

She agreed to stay for hours.

She's highly attracted to this patient.

She thinks she's lost her dam mind.

--

I’m already working on the next chapter. It should be up in the next coming days. But realistically once I finish it; I’ll post it.

[emmavoid]

In which I go back over episodes 1-5 of Serial Experiments Lain in order to collect my thoughts on them before continuing on to a liveblog proper!

(this was done at butt-o-clock in the morning don't @ me for rambling/misspelling/etc)

Episode 1-

Lain’s shadow, and the shadows near her house, have an intensely weird pattern to them- like there's something hiding deeper within those shadows than any other shadows

The focus on humming powerlines, Lain’s asking them to be quiet- something/someone is trying to communicate with her, even this early on

The steam that comes from Lain’s fingers- at first I thought it was an intense imagination, but it felt similar to the steam coming from her computer in later episodes- another early sign that she’s already in the Wired

“Why did you die?” “God is here.” the first mention of god in the show

As a whole Lain’s family seems off; her parents weirdly robotic, inhuman- almost monstrous in their appearances, and her sister distant; lain did not know them well, and so these simulations of them suffer

When another student dies by jumping in front of the transit train, lain has a strange experience of “viewing” the student’s death while surrounded by fog. I originally thought this was more of her powerful imagination, but having since connected the “fog” or steam to computers, i think this was her simulating the event over again in an attempt to cope with her very human feelings

“Come to the Wired as soon as you can.” More communications from “the universe” to Lain

Episode 2-

the night scene at the beginning of each episode has been, mostly, a repetition of itself, with more communications; however, with Lain not present for most of them, who are they directed towards?

The girl in the nightclub Cyberia- looking at her again on a re-view, she does seem similar to Lain, but wears earrings- something I’ve noticed the “digital” Lain in the opening has that differentiates her from the more innocent, child-like, human Lain.

The explanation of Accel cuts to Lain in class- with the camera specifically focusing on her ear. It seems as if, throughout the show, she’s learning certain information without seeking it out.

The first appearance of the digital ghosts, like what would become of the “fake” version of Lain’s sister in a later episode, plus the figure she “imagined” after the train slow-down.

The man with the gun high on Accel- a test for human-Lain? She freezes, drawing his ire, but when he recognizes her as the Other Lain and points his gun at her, she speaks in a different voice- possibly the Other Lain’s? Possibly… a God-Lain’s voice. The man kills himself as if controlled by an outside force, and Lain appears shocked. I think that God-Lain- the one who has been communicating with Lain all this time- took over to ensure that Lain’s failure of this test wouldn’t lead to her death (or possibly, to interrupting her growth and forcing some kind of reset?)

Episode 3-

After the events of last episode, Lain is shaken- she can barely respond to Arisu. When she returns home, her family is nowhere to be seen- possibly because them existing during all of what happened would be detrimental to her growth? But when she falls asleep at her computer then checks on her family again… their presence or absence isn’t shown.

Another case of information about something strange- this time the Psyche- with a focus on Lain’s ear; again, picking up some kind of information.

“We saw someone die right in front of us yesterday, but we’re acting like it’s something we saw in a movie.” lain's friends are the most fleshed out "people" in the simulation because she knew them the best- and that's why none of them could react properly to the murder in that club, because Lain had never experienced what their reactions would really be like to something traumatic like that.

Lain’s Psyche shows up in her locker- perhaps put there by God-Lain?

The first mention of The Knights, who may have created the Psyche. Are they possibly a front for God-Lain?

Lain’s father attempts to leave immediately when she shows him the Psyche- further evidence that he can only react how he’s “programmed” to? The guy in the club who recognizes Lain- God-Lain has definitely been visiting here regularly.

“I saw you once, in the Wired. You were totally different.” God-Lain doesn’t seem to mind folks knowing about her. Is she leaving hints towards her existence for Lain on purpose?

Lain’s sister is definitely more fleshed out than her parents- when the Agents at the door try to tell her to ignore them she seems properly weirded out

Episode 4-

The origin of my connecting steam/fog to computing power- lain has a fan set up to directly cool part of her computer, releasing steam/condensation

Lain’s parents continue to have strange, robotic responses, but her sister seems genuinely concerned for her.

The main “plot” of this episode- the crossing over of the two net games- seems mostly unrelated to Lain? But it does seem to be causing suicides and murders, showing direct interaction between the Wired and the “real” world

I love the speed with which Lain is acclimating to computers and the Wired- contacting a professional for assistance with the Psyche is a great detail

The more adult-seeming Lain- so, possibly, God-Lain- appears to ask the DJ at the club about the game. But, she’s not there when he looks, and after that scene Lain has suddenly learned about and downloaded the game in question. Was it maybe Human-Lain tapping into her latent god powers to learn this information from him?

A Lain travels through the net game, and seems to try to contact a fleeing player. “I can’t go where you are.” The voice sounds much more like Human-Lain? Then the player encounters a child and kills her- seemingly in-game, but then one or more corpses can be seen wrapped in sheets afterwards as Lain watches. Highly unlikely that this guy had a real gun IRL- especially in Japan- so this seems to be more Wired/IRL fuckery.

“My buddies and I think this might be the work of the Knights too.” A point against my theory of the Knights being God-Lain?

“I’ll be able to enter it soon. … Don’t worry, I’m still me.” “Sometimes, I wonder…” Yeah, there’s no way this is a real reaction her real father would have.

“The Knights do not physically exist. They can be thought of as a religion that is spreading through the Wired.” And then this quote feels like another point towards my God-Lain theory!

the two men who were spying on lain... I think might've been actual outside agents given representation so that human-Lain would have the chance to deal with them- which, she did, by tapping into her god-powers to destroy their spy-glasses (which, when she did, caused her computer's fans to go into overdrive to keep it cooled)

Episode 5-

Lain hears directly from a being calling itself God, before the episode jumps to focusing on her sister for most of the episode.

This episode felt like it was jossing my theory- how could this whole reality be for Lain’s benefit if her sister was experiencing strange stuff?

“There is nothing that you don’t know. I can’t tell you a story that doesn’t exist.” On some level, Lain is both God-Lain and Human-Lain. These conversations with the doll, the mask, then fakes of her parents throughout the episode, seem to be more of Lain learning without personally experiencing- being fed information by her other self.

“The other side is overcrowded. The dead will have nowhere to go.” Isn’t this straight up a quote from one of the Romero zombie flicks?

All the talk of prophecy and “fulfill the prophecy”... Lain seems to be on a set path towards entering the Wired, which is part of why it seems like this is just her reliving an approximation of something that already happened.

A connection between the Knights and The Prophecy. The fake of Lain’s sister isn’t the only one to encounter word of the prophecy, since we hear about it from Lain’s friends as well

Hmm… I hadn’t thought of it before, but, mayhaps the fake of Lain’s sister doesn’t show until the strange holo-effects of her water at dinner? None of the really weird stuff happens to her until after… maybe this was a copy of her then, made during that moment before being pushed into this prophecy-horror scenario?

The Lain’s Sister who enters the house crying then sees herself disappears- or, it seems she does, until Lain sees a digital ghost of her, like she had previously seen in the school… after seeming to see this other self of hers, the real Lain’s sister seems… robotic and nonchalant. Was she a full, real person before this happened?

Theory Overall thus far-

my theory thus far is that lain's already living in the wired, and is, in fact, a god there- she is both Lain and The Knights; but, the more human part of her, Lain, is reliving her pre-wired memories with slight alterations in order to help her get to the point where she can accept her godhood.

the opening of the show ties into my theory too- that god-Lain (portrayed in the intro with earrings) is spread throughout the world, controlling everything, while human-Lain (in her much more childish outfit) is just experiencing and trying to understand the world

Things that were pointed out to me-

Arisu’s name is a romanization of Alice (referencing Alice in Wonderland)

Be inc and Copland being old computer companies

[hopeisour4letteredword]

with friends like these

Summary: Apollo gets his wisdom teeth out, and Clay babysits.

Link to AO3 in the notes.

"Apollo, buddy. Buddy. You gotta lie back down."

Apollo blinks owlishly at Clay, swaying in place in the middle of the kitchen. God, Clay would feel better if he at least had the sense to lean against the counter. "But I want coffee."

"No coffee for you," Clay says, forcing himself to be stern despite the dreading anticipation of the way Apollo's expression falls, comically sad. AJ always looks younger than he is, as a big brave twenty-year-old, but the sad little pout while he's out of his mind on painkillers, cheeks swollen from surgery? He looks like he's twelve. Adorable. Clay feels bad for him, he really does—he got his own wisdom teeth out last year and he remembers how much it sucked—but the little baby pout just makes him want to smile. "You'll wind yourself up something good, sunshine."

"It's not that much caffeine," Apollo tries to say, even as he lets Clay catch him by the arm and pull him, stumbling, out of the kitchenette. "An' it would make me feel more awake."

"You don't need to feel more awake, you need to rest."

"But I've got stuff to do," Apollo says, mournfully. Clay manages to wrangle him back over to the couch and nudge him back down onto the cushions. Apollo makes doe eyes up at him while Clay grabs the nearest blanket to wrap around his shoulders. "I gotta work on my readings—"

"It's winter break, you don't have readings."

"But next semester."

"You don't have any advance readings yet. You checked and told me so before the surgery."

"I have to stay ahead," Apollo says. His eyelids droop. "I gotta be good at my classes so I can be a good lawyer."

"You're gonna be a great lawyer. But you aren't a lawyer yet, and you don't have any classes right now, so just take it easy, okay?"

Apollo opens his eyes again to peer back up at Clay. "My mouth hurts."

"I know. Sorry, buddy. Not time for more painkillers yet. You want me to grab you the ice pack again? Get the rest of your shake?"

Apollo nods, still looking glum. Clay dutifully returns to the kitchen to retrieve an ice pack from the freezer, which he wraps in a kitchen towel, and the rest of Apollo's post-surgery chocolate shake out of the fridge. When he gets back out to the living room, Apollo has toppled over to be horizontal on the couch. Clay puts the necessities down on the coffee table and scoops Apollo's legs up onto the couch so he isn't twisted all funny. The last thing the poor thing needs is unnecessary strain making him uncomfortable. He ruffles Apollo's hair. Apollo leans into the touch. Aww.

"Anything else I can grab you?"

"Can you sit with me? I wanna watch you play games."

"Aw, sure. What do you wanna watch?"

"I dunno. Anything's fine."

"Let's play some Odyssey, then. I'll go grab the Switch."

Apollo brightens, just like Clay thought he would. He always did like playing on Clay's Switch when they were kids. Even for Clay, it's hard not to be transported back to sleepovers, hushed giggles as they tried not to tip Clay's dad off that they were staying up late while they played games under the covers, whenever he picks it back up to replay something. He knows the memories are even more precious to Apollo, who spent so much of his adolescence struggling through foster system bullshit.

"Yeah!"

"Okay, sit tight."

When Clay comes back, Apollo has propped himself up enough to try to drink more of his shake. It dribbles out of his mouth.

"Oh, man. You got a little, uh—"

Apollo looks frustrated. "Did I miss again? I still can't feel my lower lip."

"Yeah, no, it's, um—you're fine, just let me—" Clay grabs a tissue off the box on the coffee table and wipes Apollo's face. "There you go."

"Thanks," Apollo says. He smiles, wobbly but true. "You're the best."

"No problem, sunshine," Clay says, smiling. He moves around the room, getting the Switch hooked up to the port so it will show up on the TV, before he lifts Apollo's upper body out of the way so he can slide onto the couch with him. Apollo's head ends up propped on his thigh. He helps Apollo adjust himself so there's no pressure on his cheeks, and he can easily hold the ice packs in place while seeing the screen. "Here we go."

"Let's-a go," Apollo says, in a terrible Mario impression. Clay barks out a laugh and starts the game.

"Goofball."

They don't get very far into the game before Clay is pretty sure Apollo starts to doze beside him. His breathing evens out and his weight goes limp. That's fine. He's warm and cozy, and Clay likes being someone he feels comfortable enough with to sleep around. If this is helping him feel a little better while he's in pain, Clay's satisfied. It's not like it's a hardship to sit here and play video games and be his pillow.

But the fact that he thinks Apollo's mostly asleep does mean Clay almost gets the shit scared out of him when Apollo says, suddenly, "Clay."

"Jesus!" Clay fumbles a jump and Mario goes plummeting to his doom. Oops.

"Yes, hello, hi. I thought you were napping, buddy. What's up?"

"You know you're my best friend, right?"

"Yeah? Of course."

"You know?" Apollo rolls so he's mostly on his back, looking up at Clay with big, sad doe eyes again. Clay stares back down at him, befuddled. Of course he knows. "Cause I—I know I'm kinda bitchy sometimes—"

"Aw, Apollo—"

"An' I can't help you with your smart science stuff a lot—"

"That's not—"

"An' I get really anxious and you have to babysit me sometimes an' I yell at you for it—"

"Apollo—"

"But you're really important to me and it would suck if you didn't know just 'cause I'm stupid."

"You aren't stupid," Clay says. He ruffles Apollo's hair again. Apollo's eyes slide closed, lips tugging back into the miserable little pout. "I know I'm your best friend. You're plenty nice to me. Just 'cause you're a little prickly when you're stressed doesn't mean you don't make it obvious that you care about people."

Apollo sniffles. Oh, no. Case in point, though.

"And you don't have to worry about not helping me with science stuff," Clay adds. "I know I'm not that helpful with your law stuff, either. You're way better at helping me review than I am at helping you review."

At least that makes Apollo smile a little. "Jus' easier to read formulas off notecards than legal definitions."

"You can say that again." Clay will take astrophysics over civil law any day. "Besides, you're the best hype-man I could hope for. Who else is gonna get me super pumped to go to space even though it scares the piss out of you?"

"It's so high up," Apollo whines, making Clay cackle. He never thinks about fear of heights as an issue with spaceflight until Apollo mentions it. "An' there's the whole vacuum and no air and you're just going in a tin can—"

"Don't talk about my girl Hattie like that, she's perfect."

"An' even Mr. Starbuck is nervous about it."

"And you help Sol get psyched for it too," Clay says. He pats Apollo gently on the shoulder. "Which is exactly what I'm talking about."

Apollo sighs.

"I know we're best friends, sunshine," Clay adds, more gently. "Come on. You think I would agree to live with you if I didn't know you liked me? I bet you could pull some real passive-aggressive roommate pranks if you wanted to."

Apollo huffs out a tiny laugh. "Maybe."

"There we go. We're fine, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Say it with me. We're fine."

"We're fine."

"You're Apollo Justice and you're fine."

"I'm fine!"

"That's my boy." Mario has fallen asleep standing up on-screen. Clay is considering whether or not he should keep playing or encourage Apollo to go take a real nap when Apollo shifts beside him. Clay lifts his arms out of the way on instinct, holding the controller aloft, when Apollo braces himself on shaky arms to turn and crawl the rest of the way over to plop himself down in Clay's lap. "Wh-oa, buddy. Hi there. You want cuddles?"

"Yeah," Apollo mumbles. He drops his head onto Clay's shoulder. Clay carefully shifts his weight and settles down against the back of the couch, letting it take both of their weight. He doesn't think of Apollo as a big guy, because he's not, but geez. A whole adult human does kind of weigh a lot. Good thing Clay's been beefing up for his training. "Are you at the moon yet?"

"Nope. Only at the gardens. It hasn't been that long."

"You're gonna get to the moon someday," Apollo says, with loopy certainty. Clay almost bites down on a grin before he remembers that Apollo can't see him anymore and he can smile as much as he wants, safe from scrutiny. "You're gonna be a kickass astronaut."

"Aw, thanks, bud."

"You're really smart. And good at solving problems."

"Flatterer," Clay says, grin spreading wider. God, he wishes he'd thought to grab his phone and start recording this. Yeah, he does know he's Apollo's best friend and Apollo loves him and all that, but he sure as hell doesn't get this mushy often. It's really cute.

"You deserve it. You're the best friend in the world, Clay," Apollo declares, and promptly passes out on Clay's shoulder.

---

"Anyway," Clay finishes. He knocks back the rest of his mocha. "That's what AJ was like when he got his wisdom teeth out, so like I said. Don't be too embarrassed about it."

Klavier is laughing so hard he's almost crying, a hand slapped over his mouth to muffle the sound of it. Apollo's in the kitchen right now, cooking the three of them brunch. Hopefully the sizzle of frying eggs and sausage covers the sound of Clay's indiscretions out in the living room. Clay's dead meat if it doesn't.

"He never mentioned," Klavier manages to get out, when he finally gets himself under control. "How cute."

"It was pretty great," Clay says, fondly. "But please don't tell him I told you about that. I don't want to die before I make it to the moon, and he will actually kill me for realsies."

"Your secret is safe with me." Klavier props his chin on his hand, grinning. "Has he ever gotten quite so affectionate other times?"

"If he's drunk enough, yeah."

"I'll have to keep it in mind, then."

"S'why I told you," Clay says. He considers the sly, affectionate curl of Klavier's smile for a second before he adds, "But don't bully him too hard afterwards, or you will lose drunk Apollo privileges. Only moderate mortification allowed."

"Would he be taking the privileges away or would you?"

Clay lets his own smile go sharper. He likes Klavier just fine, and he doesn't really believe he'd be that mean to Apollo, but... well, Apollo's Clay's best friend, too. He has obligations if Apollo's boyfriend is an asshole to him. "Fuck around and find out."

"Fair enough, Herr Astronaut," Klavier says. There's a clatter of plates in the kitchen as the sizzling dies down.

"Food's ready!" Apollo hollers. Clay casts Klavier a glance; Klavier mimes zipping his lips, winking. They both push away from the table to wander into the kitchen. Apollo bustles around fixing a plate of food, a pile of hashbrowns and sausage and eggs. Klavier creeps up behind him and puts his hands over Apollo's hips. Apollo startles, almost knocking him away. His cheeks go pink.

"What do you think you're doing? Clay's literally right there."

"Don't mind me," Clay says, cheerfully. He loves having ammunition to give Apollo hell over later.

"I think he already has an inkling that we're dating, Liebling," Klavier murmurs. He leans down to kiss the top of Apollo's head. Apollo gently elbows him in the gut, pushing Klavier away as his cheeks go even redder.

"Yeah, and he's already insufferable enough about it without you hanging off me in front of him. Come on, back off."

Klavier obligingly steps back. He and Clay begin to fix their own plates. Hovering nearby, Apollo asks, suspiciously, "What were you two gossiping about out there, anyway?"

"Oh, nothing," Clay says. He smiles sweetly when Apollo narrows his eyes at him. "By the way, AJ?"

"What?"

"You're the best friend in the world."

[abluescarfonwaston]

Black Locks

“Chief. Mia. Please.”

Wright stood in front of her. Fists clenched. Jaw locked. Plead. Plead the same way he’d plead to lead the Steel Samurai case all those months ago. The way Maya had described him pleading to lead her defense against the attempted murder charge against her.

“Wright what makes you think he doesn’t have an attorney?”

“Please.”

And this was how she ended up sitting across from Miles Edgeworth in the detention center on Christmas morning.

He refused them even as he admits no one will take his case.

“-A wet behind the ears lawyer with three cases under you belt? I’m not that desperate yet.”

“I could lead the defense, if you’d prefer.”

Not that she wanted to. Not that she believes in his innocence.

Wright sat next to her, after she was released from the hospital and slurped his much delayed celebratory ramen. He'd won two cases and they hadn’t had the chance to celebrate even one. He told her why he became a lawyer.

There’s someone I want to save.

He’s told her this before. While swallowed glass settles in his belly. But now it has a name. A face. A smug smile.

She hates that brat. She doubts there’s anything worth saving. Wright just stared mournfully into his ramen like he doubted it too.

Edgeworth grit his teeth. Glared at the wall. “Stay out of this Ms. Fey.” But he offered no counter argument to her offer.

“The lake is a long way away from your offices and the court... Why were you down there?” Wright probed instead.

“I see no reason to tell you.”

She crossed her legs. Leaned back in the chair. What a waste of a morning.

“Edgeworth!” Wright slammed his hands down on the table. Pleading and irritated and desperate all at once.

“… Gourdy.”

“…?” She raised her head to study him. The eyes hidden behind his bangs. The deep purple bags under his eyes. They’re almost satisfying. Knowing he’s enjoying firsthand what he’s done to so many others. Guilty or not.

“I went to see Gourdy.”

The room went dark. Heavy with the slide of chains as they drag over the floor and up to his heart.

There are so many. Bleeding red like his bloody heart.

“But... you didn't do it, right? Right?”

The locks faded as the conversation moved on. But the detention center was far colder now that she knows they exist. She braced for the lie Edgeworth will shovel down their throats and she’ll drag Wright away with an apology about how his friend cannot be saved.

“... Think what you will. I have only one request.”

He hadn’t answered, so he hasn’t lied. She swallowed the irate sigh. What does he want now?

“Stay out of this case.”

She jolted. Back suddenly straight. Her feet click sharp against the floor. “What?! He’s trying to help you!”

Not that she has much proof there was anything worth saving. An objection and aid during a single case did not undo the years prior. There was character evidence piled high enough to kill.

Guilty or not, it probably will. If no one took his case.

“I know...! I know that! But I don't want your help, okay?”

“Why not?!”

His shoulders curve inward. “... Look, just go away, and leave me alone!” He snapped sweeping his hand out with a snarl.

His eyes are red. Bloodshot – although there’s no chance it’s from tears.

“It’s because you did it, didn’t you?”

And somewhere in that black heart of his he knows better than to drag Phoenix down with him.

“Mia!” Wright snaps in a rare displace of force. “Let’s go investigate elsewhere.”

“Wright…”

He stood. The chair screeches against the floor and she watches Edgeworth flinch at the sound.

Fine.

Fine.

Edgeworth’s detective claimed the man spoke highly of them. Seemed truly dumbfounded that they were turned down. Doesn’t stop him from trying to help.

He hands over a picture of the deceased.

“That’s Robert Hammond.”

The case unraveled before her.

They sit in front of Edgeworth and there are so many locks that there is no way they have enough. But Wright speaks and all the red locks rattle. Like Edgeworth wants to tell him. Longs to tell him.

She wonders, in a passive sort of way, if Wright held the magatama would he see only one?

“DL-6.”

There is a sharp exhale. His head falls forward. The red locks shatter.

“The ‘DL-6 Incident’... was when my father died. Right before my eyes... He was shot and killed, and I saw it all.”

He spoke. Her stomach knotted. DL-6. She wasn’t the only one who lost a parent from that incident.

“My memories from that time are... foggy. I suppose it's a self-defense mechanism. In any case, a suspect was arrested... a man. It's pretty clear he was the only one who could have killed my father.”

Foggy. The room goes dark once more. The slide of heavy chains. Red. She expects red.

They are black. Every lock is black. Dark. Cold. Filled with despair.

A lie he keeps even from himself.

“The spirit medium they used to talk to my late father said the same thing.” Her Mother. “It was an attorney by the name of Robert Hammond that cleared the suspect's name.”

“And Hammond... is the victim in the Gourd Lake murder?”

“Correct.”

There is a danger to black Psych-Locks. That removing them by force will damage the keepers mind.

Blocking out memories in self-defense. He even explained it himself.

The earthquake rumbles but it is the violent rattling of his locks that causes her pain.

He curled up on the floor. Quaking. His locks rattle and in the shaking of his hand and the gasping of his rapid breaths she can see every time they tear at the fabric of his mind.

Worse yet, there is nothing they can do except watch as the guards drag his limp form back to his cell.

 Edgeworth warned them about what they’re up against. Von Karma.

It’s not like she hasn’t faced him before. Once. Twice. She doesn’t allow her concern to show but if she gripped Wright’s lapels and shakes him a little harder than she should when she scolds him it’s probably because she knows what a battle this will be.

Wright doesn’t though. He’s blissfully unaware of the nightmare ahead of them. How even getting their legally required cross examination will be an uphill battle.

She really hopes this isn’t how he learns why none of the other attorneys would defend Edgeworth.

What was it he’d said? They ‘Lacked confidence because he’d had all their defendants convicted?’

Edgeworth was lying about that part. And Von Karma was far worse.

 “Why did you pick up that gun anyway?!”

He grimaced. Hand digging into his elbow. “I don’t know. I was in a daze when I picked it up.”

Black slide into place. She braces for the cold chill this time.

There is one less locked in place.

Removing them forcibly can damage the owners mind. They were created to protect them after all.

“I know those interrogations can be brutal, how are you holding up?”

He glares at her. The bruises under his eyes speak to his lack of sleep. To the way this has been eating at him.

She hadn’t removed the lock. Neither had Wright.

She wondered who had.

 The second day is brutal. They’d almost lost. But as it stood now it looked like they would win.

The locks rattled. Volume growing as it had throughout the entire trial.

“Hey, Edgeworth…”

He didn’t respond. The locks rattled louder.

“Edgeworth!”

He jumped. Dazed eyes focusing on her. “D-did you say something?”

(Oh we were just discussing your case- no need to pay attention. It’s not like it matters to you at all!)

“Come on! Stop looking so pained! At this point we’ve got it in the bag!” She slapped his shoulder. He side stepped away from her. “Relax.”

“… I’m sorry… But… I fear it’s not over for me yet.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

The locks rattled. The chains shook. The truth he hid from even himself.

“Wright... There's something that's been troubling me for a long time now. And I don't know whether or not to tell you...”

Black locks clicked into place. Only three remained.

What had happened to the others?

“No... there's so little time left. I want to tell you, to get it off my chest, but...’

“What is this about, Edgeworth?”

She drew back. Let herself sink into the background.

He saved me Mia. If you could have seen him back then-

I know somethings wrong. I want to pay him back.

He stared down at his attorney’s badge. Closed his fist around it.

I became an attorney because of him. So I could see him again.

Gaaaaaay.

Chief!

Sorry.

If anyone can reach Edgeworth it was Wright.

“... It's... a nightmare I've had. A memory of a crime... that I committed.”

Those locks shake. The heavy grating sound of metal pulling at his mind.

Sometimes people forget things to protect themselves. In self Defense.

“A memory... of a murder.”

“What?!”

They yank and jerk against the chains. Trying to rip free by sheer force.

You’re hurting yourself! She does not object.

“I… I want to tell you but…”

The bailiff doesn’t give him a chance. He’s escorted away.

 They stared down at the letter.

“But it says ‘get revenge on Edgeworth’… Why would he want to take revenge on you?”

One lock. Black as total darkness slides into place.

He closes his eyes and it shatters.

There is no evidence of the pain it causes. No bleeding wounds or pained cries.

But he opens his eyes and she is certain something within him has died. He tells them about his nightmare.

Innocence. The illusion of innocence has died.

“But that’s just a dream!” Wright objected when he fell silent.

“… That thought is the only thing that has kept me sane for the last 15 years. But what if I’m wrong? What if it’s real? They say sometimes people shut out memories in self-defense. Maybe it was I who killed my father.”

It’s the truth.

“If you think about it that way, this letter makes sense. Think about it. Yogi was really innocent. That’s why he wanted revenge on me.”

When he confesses on the stand none of them are surprised. Not even Von Karma. How many of those interrogations did they spend together? Did he spend ripping apart the protective locks around his own protégée’s mind?

Wright and her walk home after the first trail.

“You wouldn’t prosecute me, right?”

“Well I’m not a prosecutor so…”

He sinks further into a gloom.

“I’m joking!” Shoulder checked him. “Obviously not.”

Edgeworth is in awe of Von Karma. Awe being a fitting word. Referential respect of both wonder and fear.

Fear.

“You were a child.”

“Accidental murder is still murder Ms. Fey.”

Edgeworth might have given up but Wright. Wright has not.

Trust. Trust your client until the end. This is what she’s taught him.

But… Phoenix. Sometimes the guilty are guilty.

He looked up from the case files. Smiled with a confidence that wasn’t just a bluff.

“I’m sorry but I don’t believe in your nightmare. It’s just a bad dream.”

There are heavy black locks around Edgeworth’s heart. Protecting him from a ‘truth’ too terrible to believe.

But testimony is flawed and just because he believes in one explanation of events doesn’t make it the Truth.

The truth will set you free. Of the black locks around your heart – she’d thought.

Phoenix does something truly amazing then.

He saves him.

“You are innocent Mr. Edgeworth. You were innocent.”

“… Thank you, Your Honor.”

[unsteadyshade]

Hmm 52 and or 62 monochrome for the prompts

from this prompt list. a friend sent me a video, and that is what this was inspired by. i remembered your prompt, anon, and i just rolled with it. i should start mentioning that prompts might take a while, but better late than never. i hope you enjoy!

"Come on, show off those glutes!"

Blake glares at her best friend and teammate currently recording her from her phone. Unfortunately, Yang is unfazed and continues grinning. They're both sweaty and covered in grime from their soccer game, and all Blake wants to do is take a shower.

"That's the last thing I want to do."

"It's for a good cause, promise!" Blake narrows her eyes. She's too tired to overthink things, but she does notice Yang occasionally glancing behind her at something. It makes her curious enough to do the same, albeit in a much more subtle way. What she sees is a white-haired woman who looks strangely familiar despite Blake not associating with anyone with hair like that. It's only when Nora, another teammate, passes by after snatching a magazine from her boyfriend's hands that Blake remembers who that stranger is and smirks.

How can Weiss Schnee escape her mind? The woman was featured everywhere, especially in recent times with her delightfully controversial decisions as CEO of the SDC. Blake thinks that it was a long time coming, however more could be done. She knows progress for Faunus and other marginalized people takes time though, a lesson ingrained ever since she was a child. That any progress was made at all after Weiss somehow managed to convince the board to agree with her is a point in her favor.

Of course, that isn't the only reason the CEO catches Blake's attention. The press had been speculating for a while that Weiss had been seeing suitors, and not all of them were men. Granted, that could just be the tabloids looking to spin a story, but Blake's bisexual heart couldn't help but hope. She may never get a chance to meet the woman, but it's a nice thought.

Well, maybe things can change. Blake isn't sure if it's a good thing that they happen to be in the same hotel at the same time so close to each other, but the inner romantic in her can't help but think about fate. She shakes her head, clearing her thoughts. If nothing else, she can verify one thing. And even if she embarrasses herself, at least it'd be a fun video to watch back later.

Blake gives the blonde a look only able to be deciphered by years of friendship, and Yang only grins back. It'd usually be her that would suggest something chaotic, so the rare reversal is nice. Yang tosses her the soccer ball she's been carrying like a trophy, and Blake easily starts juggling it.

In her peripheral vision and with the way Yang's grin widens, Blake can tell that the woman behind her has stopped walking. What she's doing, Blake isn't sure, but she does hear fabric rustling. She guesses that Weiss has decided to lean against the wall either to watch her since they're blocking the hallway anyway. It's been a while since Blake has used her soccer skills to impress anyone, so she hopes Yang won't tease her too badly if this is a bust.

Following several minutes of juggling the soccer ball, Blake deliberately kicks it over to where she suspects Weiss is still standing. After picking it up slowly--Blake won't admit that she might have been distracted by the CEO's legs and that pretty skirt--she stands and flashes an apologetic smile. There's a pretty pink in her cheeks, so Blake thinks that she has to be at least a little impressed with her earlier show. She takes a chance and winks.

Oh, that blush is gorgeous. Blake smirks--that roguish one Yang had been caught by when they first met--and speaks, lowering her voice in a way that she'll blame on exhaustion if asked. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to block the hallway." She ignores the snort of laughter from her best friend and leans against the wall directly in front of Weiss, pleased to learn that she is taller.

"Isn't that what you're doing right now?" The CEO crosses her arms and raises a brow, and somehow Blake is the one who feels small for a moment before blinking away her surprise. Blake feels foolish for feeling this way but supposes she should've expected some level of intimidation from a successful businesswoman. Still, she's going to continue to try and impress her until there's absolutely no chance left for her.

"You could say that...but now I have a reason to keep you here."

"And that would be...?"

Well, here she goes. The moment that'll decide whether she'll get teased mercilessly or a slap on the back from her best friend. "To invite you to watch me practice."

There's an agonizing moment of silence as Weiss takes that in broken only by another snort from behind her. Then, the businesswoman takes out a card, elegantly writes a set of numbers on it, and hands it to Blake with a small smirk. "Don't text me the wrong time or location or else I'll be sorely disappointed. I'll see you there, beautiful." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yang is still laughing by the time they make it to the park. Honestly, Blake is just glad that she wasn't laughing more than she did earlier and sighs. At least they've showered. She hopes they won't be sweating too much. "Yang, come on. I need moral support, not any more of your jokes."

"Okay okay...just one more time! She called you beautiful, and you stood there gaping like a red-faced fish for five minutes!"

"It couldn't have been that long..." Blake mumbles, trying very hard not to think about Weiss's smirk after seeing her reaction and how much she wanted to kiss it away. A slap on the back abruptly takes her out of her thoughts, and she stumbles a bit before righting herself with a glare aimed at the grinning blonde.

"Maybe not, but I'm still proud of you! Got a number and demonstration?"

"Don't say it like that."

"But that's exactly what this is. You wanna show off for her even more than you did earlier, and I'm here to help with that." Yang's voice drops solemnly. "This is the only time I'll let you embarrass me on the field."

Blake rolls her eyes. "Just help me warm up."

"Looks like you'll have to do without that. She's here."

"What?!" Blake whirls around, and sure enough, Weiss is making her way over to them. Yang gives her two thumbs up before jogging a ways away. Of course the CEO would arrive early. "Hey." Blake greets with a nervous smile.

Surprisingly, it also seems that the seemingly composed woman is also nervous when she smiles back. "Hi."

They stare at each other for a moment too long to be considered friendly until Yang wraps her arms around them and winks at the shortest woman. "You ready to watch your girl pummel me?"

"She's not--"

"I'm not--"

"Great! Let's have some fun." Yang jogs off, and Blake isn't sure if she should be mad or glad that they're now sporting matching blushes. She clears her throat, Faunus ears flicking awkwardly due to her nerves.

"I hope you enjoy what I have to offer--not that I'm offering anything like--" Weiss's tiny giggle stops her, and Blake swears her heart skips a beat at the sound. She wants to hear more, especially when it's accompanied by that radiant smile. It gives enough confidence to wink. "Enjoy the show, princess." Blake says, the nickname slipping easily from her lips. She doesn't stick around long enough to see Weiss's reaction, psyching herself up for playing.

As she plays, Blake is focused on the game, though she does catch the occasional glimpse of Weiss watching her. The knowledge that those sharp eyes are observing her as closely as she likely scans everything and everyone else gives Blake a surge of confidence. It's not recklessness that drives her as she moves around, but freedom to fall into something--someone new.

And when Yang finally calls for an end, Blake is smiling wide. Her friend is conversing with a teammate. Meanwhile, she's sweaty but still feeling adrenaline coursing through her for a different reason as she turns to the approaching woman. Blake is just energized enough to blurt out the first thing on her mind.

"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

A brilliant blush quickly spreads across Weiss's face at that, though she does an admirable job of acting like it isn't obviously there. She huffs then rolls her eyes while crossing her arms for extra effect. "Where else was I supposed to look?"

"Well..." Blake gestures to her best friend. "What about my teammate?"

Weiss purses her lips, as if considering that, and Blake hates how her attention is immediately drawn there. "She is...certainly an option, but you've managed to capture my attention more." Blake's heart skips a beat at that, and she swallows before speaking again.

"Have I captured enough to earn a date?"

Weiss stares for a few moments, and Blake can feel her heartbeat rise with the subtle upward curve of her lips. "You have. How does dinner sound?" ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blake would've complained about having to shower for a second time if she wasn't doing it for a second date. What she definitely doesn't complain about is her date opening her hotel room door and rendering her momentarily speechless with a backless silver dress. If this is what she can look forward to by taking chances, then she figures she should take more in the future. When she is able to talk again, Blake supposes honesty is the best policy.

"You look amazing tonight."

Weiss's smile is just as amazing, and Blake is fortunate enough to confirm that their lips fit together quite well hours later.

a/n: this was so ridiculously fun. thank you for the prompt, and i hope you enjoyed!