#That being said if anything is confusing I'd love to try and clear it up!

[eudikot]

you're a researcher!! that's so cool! if you don't mind me asking, what do you do?

Thank you for the ask, I love talking about my research!! Currently, I'm working on studying barley and its interaction with Pseudomonas fluorescens using a clear hydrogel media instead of soil. I got interested in this project because I think that the ability to grow plants in hydrogel instead of soil to study their roots is such a cool thing, and since I'm majoring in both plant and microbial biotechnology adding the bacterial aspect helps bring everything I'm working on all together (and is something I can make a paper out of). Then to add biotechnology into the equation, we added GFP (green fluorescent protein) into the bacteria, which causes them to glow green when hit with UV light and viewed under a filter. This makes it easier to see the bacteria on the roots.

Because this projects excites me so much and has some cool pictures, I have to share some. The first picture are roots without any bacteria and the second one has the bacteria. Feel free to take a second and see if you can identify any differences between the two images.

The first noticeable thing I see is within the hydrogel itself. The non-bacterial control has a much darker background, likely because there are no bacteria to fluoresce in it. However, you may notice that the roots still have a glow to them. That's actually because plants have autofluorescence based on the proteins/chemicals they produce which was visible through the filter. Now, the things that stand out to me on the bacterial roots compared to the regular ones are that they almost have a rougher appearance, likely due to the bacteria colonies growing on it. And then there is the bright spots of bacteria that are not present on the bacteria-free roots. Seeing such a stark difference so easily (since I have been looking at images of these for a while now and know what I'm looking for) honestly blew me away when this actually seemed to work.

Also, just to talk about autofluorescence again, the chlorophyll in the leaves make the plants so bright in this system. I mean look at that leaf!! I never though I'd see such a pretty plant (the last one looks slightly different from the rest because it was taken with my phone instead of the microscope camera, but catches the entire autofluorescence really well).

And to wrap this whole spiel up, let me give a little background on where I started with doing research. I actually started out by doing data analysis on differential gene expression, or the differences in expression under different conditions. A lot of analysis uses an "out of 100%" model if you will, and because of this if one gene changes expression a lot but everything else stays the same, it'll look like all those genes have lower expression compared to the one that changed even if they might not. You can see how that might be a bit of a problem. I was testing a new R package that would compare gene expression in a different way to bypass this problem and more clearly see what is actually happening to different genes.

Because I was just helping a bit on this project I never saw its conclusions before moving onto other things. I took a side off of that project to get a grant and do a systematic review on how other researchers are describing their gene expression clustering, since in R you need to define the clustering method (how different groups are compared to one another) and the number of clusters you want. Because these are human entered and can change the outcome of the data you're analyzing, it's important that what you do can be replicated, but a lot of researchers were very vague in even what packages they used to cluster. I'm still finishing up that work so hopefully I'll be able to publish a paper on it soon.

Then I've also had fun helping some of our grad students with barley biomass measurements and, my absolute favorite, soil microbe DNA extraction. That student is using differences in the soil microbiome to see if it has an impact on the growth of the barley, and is actually what inspired me to student plant-microbe interactions!

[mischievousmoony]

I just read your fratboy!James blurb and im OBSESSED!!

I'd love another blurb about either like visiting him at his frathouse after habing gotten closer and hes super respectful but reader is a little confused and anxious about what he wants from her (wether he likes her romantically and all that jass) or something about giving him his jacket back and him being all flirty yk

sorry for rambling and i hope you have a lovely day!!!

love this idea! i went with the first half of the request so this doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with the original frat boy!james blurb, but ive been working on a part 2 for that too !

𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

⟢ frat boy!james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 2.0k ⟢ warnings/tags: fluff, drinking/intoxication (not reader), miscommunication but this is the resolution, reader is confused about james' intentions

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You thought James invited you over to hang out, just the two of you. You had been brainstorming movies to watch and takeout places to suggest all day in preparation for a quiet night with him.

The last thing you expected to be doing right now was watch him play beer pong with his friends in the crowed living room of his frat house. But, here you are, standing off to the sidelines and occasionally giving him a thumbs up when he waves at you.

You perk up when James' team is about to lose—at least it'll mean the game is finally over—but James sinks the ball into the last cup, sending them into overtime.

James throws his hands up in the air, turning in your direction for approval. You send him yet another thumbs up as you try hide your discontent. When he turns to celebrate with Sirius, you slump against the wall with a sigh.

"You good?" a voice rings out to your left. You turn your head to make eye contact with the speaker's shoulder, and you have to crane your neck much more than expected to meet the eyes of the tall boy.

It's James' friend Remus. You've only spoken to him a handful of times, but he's always been very nice.

"Hey, yeah, I'm fine."

Remus quirks an eyebrow. "You don't seem to be having a good time."

You puff out a long breath, and you don't know why, but you find yourself confiding in Remus. "This just wasn't really what I expected tonight to be like."

"No? And what were you expecting?"

"Not a party. I thought James just wanted to hang out with me." You start to worry you've gotten the wrong idea—like maybe this was never supposed to be a date at all. Maybe you're just another friend James invites to his parties. "I thought he liked me. Do I have it all wrong?"

Remus chuckles, which makes you feel worse. "You should talk to him," he advises, which is awfully unhelpful.

"Maybe if this game ever ends," you grumble, turning your head back to the game to watch Sirius miss yet another cup and almost fall into the table. Sirius is barely sober enough to stand, much less get a tiny ping pong ball into a cup eight feet away.

"Hold this?" Remus hands you his drink before tapping Sirius on the shoulder. "Dude there's some people hooking up on your bed."

"What!?" Sirius squawks, immediately abandoning the game to shoo these made up people out of his room.

"Wait, we need you to finish this!" James calls after him, but it's no use.

"Lemme step in for him," Remus offers, and with him as James' new partner, they win the game in just two more rounds.

Remus winks when he takes his drink back from you, and then he promptly disappears into crowd.

You shake off the awestruck look on your face as James approaches you.

"Hey!" he shouts over the music.

"Hey, congrats on winning," you reply.

"What?"

You clear your throat to enable you to raise your voice. "I said congrats.”

James squints at you, still not understanding. You swear the music just got twice as loud.

James leans in, and you shiver as his warm breath fans the side of your neck. "It's a little loud here, wanna go somewhere else?"

He leans back to see you nod, and he takes your hand to lead you upstairs.

The first thing you notice about his bedroom is how clean it is. His bed is made without a single wrinkle in the sheets, his desk is so organized there’s not even a pen out of line, and the room itself smells like fresh laundry and faintly like his cologne.

You sigh in relief as the door clicks shut, muffling the music and giving your eardrums a much needed break.

“Make yourself at home,” James says, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting the spot beside him.

As soon as you sit, James angles his body so that your knees are touching, and goosebumps spread across your skin at the contact.

“Are you having fun?”

“Oh, yeah,” you lie. “It’s a great party.”

James’ lips curve into a smile. He studies you for a few seconds, and you have to fight not to tear your gaze away, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

Your lips part, and James' eyes dart down. He looks like he really wants to kiss you—or maybe more.

A sinking feeling settles in your stomach. The only thing that could be worse than you mistaking James' friendship for romance, is you mistaking sexual attraction for genuine like.

Your mind is racing now as you recount all the times you've interacted with James. Did he invite you to this party just to get you up to his room? Has this been his goal the whole time? All the kind gestures and friendly smiles, was it all a ploy?

James' eyebrows knit together as worry settles in on your face. He scoots a couple inches away from you to give you space. "Is everything okay?" he asks.

"James, why am I here?" you blurt out.

"What do you mean?" James asks. His tongue swipes across his pouty lip—a nervous tic—as his eyes dart around your face for hints in your expression that might help diagnose the problem.

"Did you invite me to this party just to- to get me in your room? In your bed?" you ask boldly.

James almost chokes on air. He is momentarily rooted in place from shock. Your eyebrows shoot up when a few seconds later, he suddenly springs to his feet to distance himself from you even further.

"No. No!" James holds his hands out in front of him. "We don't need to be in here. We don't need to be anywhere! We can leave—or you can leave—I don't want you to leave. But you can go wherever you want. Alone. Or with me. Whatever you want. I just-"

James takes a deep breath, an attempt to ease his racing heart. "I didn’t bring you here to try anything. I just thought it’d be nice to be alone for a minute. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

You chew on your lower lip, starting to feel bad about your accusation. "I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“Shit, don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“It’s just, I'm not uncomfortable. I'm confused."

"Confused? About what?"

"Well, for one, I didn't realize you were inviting me to a party when you invited me over tonight."

James' face falls, and your comment hangs in the air as he processes it. He runs a hand through his messy curls as he mutters, "I'm such an idiot."

"Huh?"

"I didn't invite you to a party. This wasn't supposed to be a party. I thought that you thought there was gonna be a party so I... threw a party last minute." James scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Why-? Why would I think that?"

"Because of your text.”

"What text?"

James takes out his phone and quickly navigates to your messages from this morning. "When I said 'looking forward to tonight. i think it'll be fun' you responded 'if it's anything like last time, it'll be loads of fun.'"

"How did that make you think I was expecting a party?"

"Last time you were here, it was for a party."

"I wasn't talking about last time I was here, I was talking about the last time I saw you. When we ran into each other at the football game."

And you mean literally ran into each other. James wasn't looking where he was going and made you drop your soft pretzel. He bought you another one, of course, and the two of you ended up straying from the crowd and missing the whole last half of the game in favor of a walk around campus.

"Oh." James' shoulders slump. "I'm sorry. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to happen. We were supposed to watch a movie."

"We were?" You feel a little disappointed that tonight went differently than either of you wanted. But at the same time, hearing his original plans is making you were feeling better about everything.

"Yeah. I even started a free trial on every streaming service I don’t have so that we could watch anything you wanted. And do you see how clean my room is? It's never this clean. I even washed all my bedding." James picks up the corner of his duvet and fiddles with it between his forefinger and thumb. "I used like ten dryer sheets on this."

Your lips curl into a smirk. "So you did want to get me in your bed?" you tease.

"No! No, I swear," James jabbers, almost panicking all over again. He holds a hand over his heart as he promises, "There wasn't going to be any funny business. Well, unless you were planning on making the the first move, because I would've been happy to oblige- that's not the point."

You break out into a fit of giggles, and James can't help but chuckle along even if he is feeling a bit sheepish.

"Look, I'm really sorry about how this night turned out," James says once your laughter dies down.

"Well, it's not over yet."

A grin slowly creeps it's way onto his face. "That's true. Are you up for a movie?"

"You did say you already started several free trials. We can't let that go to waste."

James happily snags the remote from the dresser that also serves as his tv stand. He's about to join you again on his bed when his eyes light up with an idea. "Here," he says, handing you the remote. "I'll be right back, okay?"

James darts out of the room, leaving you slightly confused, but excited you're finally going to have the night that you planned. You scoot back on the bed, getting comfortable in his duvet that smells strongly of Downy.

When James returns, his arms are full with three different bowls of popcorn.

"I want you to know I had to fend off several intoxicated people to get you these snacks."

"Are there going to be more people joining us?" you joke as James balances the bowls on his bedside table.

"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I got all kinds. Butter popcorn—freshly popped, by the way—kettle corn, and that's white cheddar. I also have plain salted popcorn but I didn't want to carry too many and risk dropping them."

"This is more than perfect. Thank you. Besides, this is my favorite," you say, reaching for your favorite of the three and popping a few into your mouth.

James smiles as he moves around the bed to take a seat on the other side.

"So, what are we watching?" you ask, as if you don't have a list of ten different options on your phone. When James doesn't answer, you turn away from the tv to find him already looking at you. "James?"

"I really like you," James blurts out, catching you off guard. "I want to make that abundantly clear. If- if you still weren't sure. I think you're amazing and I really don't want to mess this up."

"You're not messing anything up," you say, your voice taking on a more serious tone. "I like you too, James. A lot," you admit, and James' dazzling smile almost makes you melt on the spot. "Come on," you bump his shoulder with yours. "The nights not getting any younger and I want to watch a rom-com."

"I love those," James says, turning to the tv, but sparing some of his attention to admire you from the corner of his eye when you laugh at the jokes and to make sure his hand ends up in the popcorn bowl at the same time as yours—once he works up the courage, that is.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[lovkitti]

“GO OUT WITH ME”

KARASUNO BOYS + ASKING YOU OUT. featuring ⋮ kageyama tobio, hinata shoyo, tsukishima kei & yamaguchi tadashi x fem!reader ⸝⸝ the haikyuu boys realize the assistant manager might mean a little more to them than they thought. 3.2k words.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO..

Is one of those guys who takes forever to realize that they like you. It’s not that he’s dense, but more that he just doesn’t get it at first. He spends so much time focused on volleyball that he doesn’t even question why he notices you more than everyone else. You hand him a water bottle before he asks, and he just thinks, ‘Oh, that’s convenient’. You remind him to stretch after practice, and he nods without realizing that he listens to you way more than he listens to anyone else. But it doesn’t click that it means anything. Until one day, he overhears Tanaka and Noya hyping you up, talking about how cool you are, and how maybe they should try asking you out. Earning a small smile from you and an eye roll as you shrug off the boys and tell them to get back to practice—and suddenly, he hates the idea.

That’s when it hits him. Hard. He stands there, frozen, volleyball under his arm, his mind completely blank because—oh.. he likes you. Like, likes you.

And once he realizes, it’s all over for him. Now, he notices everything. The way you push your sleeves when you’re focused, the way you tie your hair back as you pick up volleyballs and clean the court after a practice, the way you always make sure he has an extra towel after practice because he always forgets. And it bothers him. Why does it matter that you smile at him a certain way? Why does his stomach do weird flips when you say his name?

But Kageyama isn’t exactly the best when it comes to emotions, especially love. So instead of dealing with it like a normal person he just… avoids you. Well, sort of. He gets all stiff when you talk to him, and when you hand him his water bottle, he mutters, “I can get it myself.” Which just makes you blink at him, leaving you confused.

The team figures it out before you do. Hinata straight up says, “You’re acting weird around her, what’s your deal?” and Kageyama freaks out. He denies everything, turns red and storms off. But it doesn’t matter—Noya and Tanaka got the memo. They start teasing the hell out of him, wiggling their eyebrows and nudging him whenever you’re around, and he's practically dying inside.

Eventually, he just snaps. Not at them—at himself. He’s tired of overthinking, tired of being weird, and tired of that fluttery feeling in his chest every time you so much as glance at him. So one day, when it’s just the two of you after practice, he just says it,

“Go out with me.”

No lead-up. No context. You were just putting volleyballs back in the cart when he blurts it out, and you freeze, turning to stare at him. “Wait.. what?”

And Kageyama, realizing how bad that sounded, immediately scrambles to fix it. “I—I mean. If you want to, you don’t have to. I just thought—maybe. Because. You’re good at stuff, and I like that. And I like you. So.. yeah.” He looks like he wants to run away, ears red, shoulders tense. And of course—you laugh, because what else are you supposed to do?

His face twists in horror, and he groans, throwing the last volleyball into the cart. “Forget it. That was stupid.” He whispers. But you grab his wrist before he can leave, “No, no, I just— Kageyama, yes. I'd love to go out with you.” You say shyly, looking up at the back of his head. When he hears that you said yes, he freezes. Just stands there, blinking, processing what you just said before turning around to face you, a soft flush dusting his cheeks. And then—just for a second—he smiles, all shy and relieved, before clearing his throat and muttering, “Okay, good. Um, so.. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He spends the entire night lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment over and over, smiling into his pillow like a little kid hoping that tomorrow comes soon.

HINATA SHOYO..

Is the type who knows he likes you immediately. There’s no confusion, no slow realization, none of that. The second he catches himself grinning because you cheered a little louder when he scored a point during practice is the moment he knows that he has feelings for you. He doesn’t try to hide it either. Subtlety? Never heard of her. He’s always bouncing over to you during breaks, showing off, asking if you saw that spike—and then turning red when you smile and say. “Of course I did.”

He’d ask Kiyoko if you’re free this weekend just so he has a reason to hover near the manager’s table and hope you’ll overhear. And when you glance up at him with a curious smile, he practically short-circuits—waving his hands and blurting something like, “N-not that I was asking you out or anything! I mean—not yet! Wait—I mean—!” before Kiyoko kindly saved him with a sigh and a “Shoyo, breathe.” and he does, face red as he walks away from the table—nearly tripping over a mop bucket in the process.

He keeps trying to wait for the perfect moment. After a win, after you compliment his serve, maybe after you laugh extra hard at one of his dumb jokes. But nothing ever feels quite right. Every time he thinks he’s finally ready he sees you holding a clipboard and squinting at the practice schedule, and suddenly his brain just goes quiet except for a loud, looping she’s so cute, she’s so cute, she’s so cute…

Eventually, he gives up on planning it and decides to go with the flow. So after a regular day of practice—while you’re helping clean up gathering stray cones—he jogs over, his heart pounding. He doesn’t even think. He just blurts it out with every ounce of courage he has:

“Go out with me!”

You freeze mid-step, turning toward him slowly. “..Wait, what?”

And now he’s panicking. “I-I mean—only if you want to! You don’t have to! I just—I really like you and I think you’re awesome and you’re always so nice and you smell really—wait no! That’s not what I meant—I mean it is what I meant, but not in a weird way! Just like—like flowers? Or like laundry? Or just—clean? I don’t know..”

You start laughing—fully laughing—and he’s just staring at you, blush covering his cheeks and ears in horror, gripping on the edge of his shirt as he winces. “..This is going so bad..” You gently place your hand on top of his. “Hinata… I’d love to.” you say softly, locking eyes with the orange-haired boy.

His eyes go wide. Like he can’t believe it. Like he just won the national championship in his heart. “Wait—seriously?!” You nod, and he lets out the most adorable, relieved noise—kind of like a breathy “Yes..!”—before immediately turning on his heel and sprinting down the gym shouting, “SHE SAID YES! SHE SAID YES!” while the others look up mid-cleanup, confused looks on their faces.

He spends the whole walk home grinning like a fool. He couldn’t wait to see you tomorrow.

TSUKISHIMA KEI..

Is the type of guy that doesn’t do crushes. He always thought that dating in general was a waste of time. The way guys would cling to their girlfriends during lunch breaks, walking them to class like lost puppies. And then a week later, those same guys would be moping around the gym, complaining about how “complicated” things got. It was all so.. embarrassing. Pathetic. He swore he’d never get caught up in something that meaningless.

But that was before you.

Because suddenly, something inside of him shifts. It’s subtle. Annoying, even. Like a slow itch under his skin that won’t go away. One moment he’s watching Hinata trip over a ball, the next he’s watching you laughing at it—really laughing—and something about the way your eyes crinkle and your voice rises just slightly makes his chest feel… off. And it keeps happening. Over and over.

And it’s annoying.

You’re annoying. The way you wave at him when you pass, even though he doesn’t wave back. The way you talk to him during water breaks, teasing him for never smiling, and he rolls his eyes—but his ears turn slightly red. The way you’re always so kind, so effortlessly charming, even when you’re just doing your own thing. It’s all so very.. distracting. And he hates it. Hates how you’ve started living rent-free in the back of his mind. How your laugh plays on a loop whenever the gym gets too quiet. How his heart does this stupid little skip every time you smile at him like you know something he doesn’t. He tells himself it doesn’t mean anything.

But the worst part?

He’s starting to wish it did.

Which is infuriating because now he’s stuck in this weird limbo where he’s trying not to care, but also noticing everything. Like how you always tie your jacket around your waist halfway through practice. Or how you hum to yourself when you’re organizing the uniforms. Or how you always offer him the last sports drink without thinking twice. And the worst part is—he thinks you know. You have to. No one’s that kind for no reason. You’re always teasing him, leaning in a little too close, tossing casual compliments like it’s no big deal. And every time he acts like it doesn’t affect him, he’ll just turn away, ears red, and suddenly his whole afternoon is ruined because now he has to think about that stupid little smile you gave him for the next two hours.

Eventually, it starts messing with his routine. He zones out during blocking drills. Forgets to do simple tasks like packing his lunch. Even forgets his headphones once, which hasn’t happened since middle school. And of course, Yamaguchi notices first, but doesn’t say anything—just watches him with this quiet smirk like he’s waiting for Tsukishima to crack. And then one day, when they’re both sitting outside, Tsukishima mumbles something so out of character, it barely sounds like him. “What do you even say to someone when they make your heart do that annoying skip thing?”

Yamaguchi nearly chokes on his water, looking at him wide-eyed. “I think that means you should tell them how you feel.” And Tsukishima immediately regrets asking.

He doesn’t do anything right away. Obviously. That’d be stupid. He tries to act normal again—goes back to ignoring you, brushing you off with dry remarks, avoiding eye contact. But it doesn’t work. It never works. Because now, everything reminds him of you. And it’s driving him insane. And the teasing from the team doesn’t help. Yamaguchi keeps nudging him every time you walk by. Tanaka and Noya catch on eventually and won’t shut up about how “Tsukki’s finally growing a heart.” But really, he’s not mad at them. He’s mad at himself because he doesn’t want this to be real—doesn’t want to be one of those guys. And yet here he is, getting butterflies over the way you said “thanks” when he handed you a water bottle.

So eventually, he decides to just get it over with. Not because he’s ready or anything but because he’s tired of feeling this way every time you so much as glance in his direction. So after practice when the gym is quiet, he walks up to you—kind of slowly, kind of like he might turn around and leave at any second—and stands next to you, awkwardly shifting his weight. You're stacking cones in the corner, earbuds in, humming under your breath. Noticing someone beside you, you pull out one earbud and greet him.

He doesn’t look at you. Just keeps staring straight ahead. “I like you,” he says, voice flat—almost monotone. But his ears are red.

You blink. “Sorry—what?”

He sighs, forces himself to meet your gaze even though his stomach is twisting. “I said I like you. Like—like you like you. And I didn’t know how to say it without sounding stupid, so… that’s it. I like you. You’re annoying and I like you.” There’s a pause. His heart is beating so loud he swears you can hear it. Then you smile—slow and sweet—and it hits him like a train. “Tsukki,” you say softly, and he almost melts on the spot. “You don’t sound stupid.”

He exhales, tension slowly leaving his shoulders. “Oh. Cool. Uh… good.” You’re still smiling at him, and it’s honestly too much. He clears his throat, looking off to the side. “So, uh. Do you wanna go out sometime? You don’t have to. Just… figured I should ask.”

Your grin grows. “Yeah. I’d love to.”

He freezes for a second, like he can’t believe it. Then nods—super stiff, super awkward. “Okay. Cool. Yeah. I’ll text you..” He turns to leave before you can see the way his lips twitch up into the tiniest smile.

YAMAGUCHI TADASHI..

Isn't the smooth type. He’s the kind of guy who fumbles his water bottle if you say hi too suddenly. The type who accidentally stares too long and then panics when you catch him. Who gets flustered when you’re nice to him and even more flustered when you tease him. He’s always been like that—soft-spoken, a little awkward, forever stuck somewhere between trying to disappear and wanting to say something. And that was fine. That was his comfort zone.

Until you.

Because now, every time you laugh or look at him a certain way or call him “Tadashi” with that soft little smile, his brain completely goes blank. It’s like his heart can’t decide whether it wants to melt or explode, and he ends up just standing there, staring like a deer in headlights before looking away and pretending to be so busy tying his shoes for the fifth time that day. He doesn’t know when it started exactly. Maybe it was the time you stayed behind after practice to help him pick up the stray volleyballs, even though no one asked you to. Or maybe it was when you cheered for him after he landed a solid float serve—hands cupped around your mouth, smile wide, voice cutting through the noise like it was meant just for him. Maybe it was all of that. Or maybe it was because you saw him. Saw that he wasn’t just someone standing next to Tsukishima. Not just “that guy who serves.” But him.

And he’s starting to think that maybe—just maybe—you’ve always noticed him. He’s noticed that you always bring an extra towel on days when practice runs long, and without fail, you offer it to him first. That you remember his favorite sports drink from the vending machine. That you laugh at his awkward jokes, even the ones that came out all muttered and crooked. You ask him how his test went, or how his elbow’s doing after he banged it against the floor during drills. You even asked him once if he liked cats or dogs better—just because you said you wanted to know what kind of animal sticker to put on his water bottle. And he didn’t know what to do with all of that. All the ways you see him. Listen to him. Remember him.

So, naturally, he does nothing. Well—nothing helpful, anyway. He smiles back in that wobbly way of his, cheeks already turning pink before he could stop them. Says something safe, something simple, then replays that conversation in his head for the next three hours, groaning into his pillow as he thinks about how he should’ve said something cooler or smarter or better. Of course, Tsukishima noticed. Especially when Yamaguchi started stuttering just because you waved at him from across the courtyard. The way his hands got all shaky, or how he smiled down at his food like it just told him a joke—yeah. Tsukishima saw all of it. And he was so over it.

One day during lunch, after you walked by and Yamaguchi nearly choked on his rice because you said, “See you at practice, Tadashi,” Tsukishima just said it. Plain as day.

“You should just tell her,” he muttered, casually pushing a piece of tempura around his chopsticks. Yamaguchi froze mid-chew. Blinking once. Twice.

“W-What!?” He sputtered, nearly dropping his lunch on the floor. “What do you mean!? What are you talking about? Who!? I—I don’t—what?!” His voice cracked halfway through that panic spiral, and his whole face flushed a deep shade of red as he gawked at Tsukishima like the boy had just committed a federal crime. Tsukishima gave him a long side-eye and popped a piece of sausage into his mouth. Yamaguchi looked away, embarrassed. “I—I can’t.. what if she doesn’t even like me back?”

Tsukishima shrugged. “Then she doesn’t. You’ll survive. Probably.”

“You’re not being helpful at all, Tsukki..”

But as time passed, it was getting harder and harder not to say anything. Because every time you smiled at him like that—or touched his arm when you were laughing too hard—or looked at him during practice like you actually believed in him—it made him want to try. Just a little. So one day after practice, he stayed behind. Told himself it was to help clean up, but really, he was waiting for you. Hoping you’d stay back like you usually did.

And you did.

You were by the benches, writing something in your notebook, the light catching on your lashes as you hummed under your breath. He stood a few feet away, trying to psych himself up, his hands clammy and his heart going absolutely feral. Taking in a deep breath, and then forcing his feet to move. “Hey,” he said, voice a little shaky.

You looked up immediately, smiling. “Hey, Tadashi. What’s up?” He swallowed. “Um… C-Can I talk to you? Just—really quick?” You blinked, curious. “Sure.” And then he just—blurted it.

“I like you.”

Your pen stopped moving. His face burned, but for once, he didn’t backpedal. Didn’t stumble over the words. Just kept going.

“I like you,” he repeated, quieter this time. “I like you because when I’m around you, I feel… different. Better. Like I don’t have to be nervous all the time, even if I still am,” he added, with a nervous little laugh. He glanced at you, then away, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. “I just… needed you to know. Even if it’s not mutual. Even if it messes things up. I didn’t want to keep pretending.”

For a second, everything was still. And then you stood up, slowly. You looked at him with something soft in your eyes—something that made his breath catch.“I’m really glad you told me,” you said, voice just as quiet.

“Because I like you too, Tadashi.”

His eyes widened. “Y-You do?! Wait—really?!” You laughed. “Yes. Really.” He looked like he was buffering—lips parted, blinking rapidly. “I—I thought I was imagining it. You possibly liking me back. I mean—you’re you and I’m—”

“You’re Tadashi,” you interrupted, stepping just a little closer. “And that’s exactly who I like.” He made a small noise—somewhere between a gasp and a squeak—covering his mouth with one of his hands.

“I—I can’t believe it. I feel like about to pass out,” he muttered. You laughed again, reaching out to tug his sleeve. “Don’t. I still want you to walk me home.” And despite everything—the nerves, the panic, the butterflies rioting in his stomach—he smiled.

“Okay,” he said. “Yeah. I can do that.”

a.n — guess who’s back after disappearing for so long.. me ! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- im sorry for suddenly going mia after just starting to post. life just got a whole lot busier, but whenever i have free time ill still try to write for all of you. i know this isn’t my usual MHA writings, but im not just a fan of one fandom ! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) anyways, i hope you still enjoyed it nonetheless! until next time, XOXO 💕

[deonsx]

Hello, I hope I don't bother you. Your work is truly a masterpiece. Can you please do part 2 of the bllk boys with their s/o being recorded/violated in public? I'd love for you to make Isagi, Sae, and Kaiser of the characters. My native language is not english, but I hope you understand, thanks in advance💖💖🌺

Hiii i was starving for kaiser and see this lets do this (´-ω-`)

part 1 is here

Isagi Yoichi

You and Isagi were enjoying a casual day at the park strolling hand-in-hand and chatting about his recent match. Everything seemed peaceful until you noticed someone holding their phone pointed in your direction. At first you brushed it off, thinking they were filming something unrelated. But as they shifted closer their intent became unmistakable

“Isagi” you whispered, tugging his sleeve. “I think they’re recording me” Isagi’s expression immediately hardened, his usual calm demeanor replaced with a rare intensity. He turned to the person and stepped between you and their phone blocking their view

“Hey” his voice was firm but not aggressive “What do you think you’re doing?” The person stammered, clearly unprepared for confrontation and tried to deny it but Isagi’s sharp eyes caught the red recording light “Delete it...Now” His tone left no room for argument

When they hesitated Isagi didn’t back down, crossing his arms and towering over them in a way that emphasized his presence “If you don’t, I’ll make sure security deals with you”

Once the video was deleted, Isagi wrapped an arm around you, gently pulling you closer “Are you okay? I’m sorry you had to deal with that” He spent the rest of the day reassuring you, determined to never let anyone make you feel unsafe again

Sae Itoshi

You were sitting together in a cozy café. Sae was casually scrolling through his phone while you sipped your coffee and enjoyed the quiet atmosphere. Everything seemed normal until Sae’s expression suddenly hardened

His sharp eyes zeroed in on someone sitting across the room. The person was holding their phone, pointed directly at you, clearly recording. You hadn’t noticed anything, but Sae had. Without a word, he put his phone down and stood up

Calm and composed, he walked straight to the culprit, his presence alone intimidating “Don’t make me repeat myself” he said coldly his tone sharp enough to send chills “Delete that recording”

The person stammered, attempting to deny it, but Sae’s piercing gaze left no room for argument. Reluctantly, they pulled out their phone and deleted the video, showing it to him for proof. Sae watched silently, ensuring it was gone “Good. But let me be clear if I ever catch you doing something like this again, it won’t end here” His voice was ice-cold as he delivered the warning

When he returned to the table, you were still unaware of what had happened. Sae simply grabbed his jacket and said “Let’s leave. I’m done with this place” Though he didn’t explain, his subtle protectiveness made you feel safe, even without knowing the full story

Kaiser Michael

You were strolling through a bustling plaza with Kaiser, enjoying the lively atmosphere. Everything seemed fine, but Kaiser’s steps suddenly slowed. His sharp gaze locked onto someone standing a short distance away holding their phone and blatantly recording you

Kaiser’s expression twisted into a mix of amusement and anger “Seriously?” he muttered under his breath before turning toward the person, leaving you confused

Without hesitation, he approached the culprit, his signature smug smirk masking the cold fury in his eyes “You’ve got some nerve” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm “Recording her? Are you that brave?”

The person fumbled for words, trying to explain themselves, but Kaiser cut them off with a raised hand “Save it. Pull out your phone. Now. Delete that recording, or I’ll make sure you regret ever pointing a camera at her” His voice dropped into a threatening growl and his intimidating aura left no room for argument

Shaking the person quickly complied, deleting the video under Kaiser’s watchful eye. He leaned closer, checking the screen to confirm “Good” he said curtly

As the person scurried away, Kaiser returned to you, sliding an arm possessively around your waist. You still weren’t sure what had just happened, but the satisfied smirk on his face told you he’d handled something serious

“Unbelievable how shameless people are these days” he muttered, planting a quick kiss on your temple before his smirk turned playful “Don’t worry, though. I’ll always be here to put them in their place”

Enjoy!

[luveline]

Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 

“Did you call them?” 

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 

“We really don’t have time to waste.” 

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!” 

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 

“No,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 

“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 

“Don’t know,” you mumble. 

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 

“I understand.” 

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 

[chronicowboy]

good dogs don't run away | 1.1k

Eddie is smiling at him. Soft and fond and sure. God, sure. And he's pink. So pink. And Buck wants to kiss him so badly he's stupid with it. And that's new. But it's not. And Buck's never been so confused in his life, but he's somehow the most certain he's ever been. About this. About them.

Because Eddie came back. Chris in tow. And now they're on Eddie's couch which is still Buck's legally. He thinks. He can't remember much of his panic-induced deep dive into the ins and outs of subletting. But he thinks that the couch is his. Theirs. Might have always been theirs.

He's so fucking stupid. But Eddie is too. They share everything, it seems. The world around them not split down the middle, but woven together by their own two hands. Built from the ground up. Christopher's cement between their bricks.

Home. Not a haunted house anymore. Just home.

Eddie clears his throat, scrubs a hand over his smile, and Buck has the insane urge to slap his hand away. Doesn't want anyone to touch that smile but him. Not even Eddie himself. And Eddie must see something on him because he ducks his head and huffs a laugh and comes up pinker than before.

"I, um, well..." Eddie shrugs, all nervous bashfulness that makes Buck want to put him in his pocket, maybe his ribcage, just to keep him close, safe. "I'd ask you to move in, but..."

"Hate to break it to you, Eddie." His lips curl around the name differently now. Or maybe they don't. Maybe he's always said Eddie's name like it was his favourite word, a plea, a prayer. "But I've got another month of rent down on this place, so if anyone was asking anyone to move in, it'd be me."

And, holy fucking shit, he's flirting. With Eddie. Honest to God flirting. About moving in together. Which they've already done. Because Buck couldn't bear the thought of a stranger living in Eddie's house anymore than he could bear the thought of Eddie and Chris being apart for longer than necessary.

Eddie, still smiling, still pink, rolls his eyes. Shakes his head. Fond. So fucking fond. Buck feels adored. Doesn't know what to do with it.

"Buck, it's literally my house." And, shit, has Eddie always says his name like that? Like a goddamn sacrament?

"My name is on the lease, Eddie." Bullshitting again. Can't remember a single fucking thing about property law when Eddie's big, brown eyes are looking at him like nothing else exists in the world.

"I'm the owner." He gets indignant then. That squawky, disbelieving tenor to his voice that only ever pops out when Buck is being ridiculous. And Buck wants to fucking drink it or something. Loves him. Loves him so much.

"I'm the one paying for the place right now."

"Yeah, paying me," Eddie says, incredulous. "If anything, right now, I'm your landlord."

"Ooh, hot," Buck teases with an eyebrow waggle, swaying forward just to test the waters. Eddie flushes a deeper pink, drifts towards Buck like a magnet. Buck clears his throat, slaps on that coquettish expression he'd perfected at nineteen years old, lonely and horny. It feels wrong on his face in front of Eddie, so full of love - still horny. "You know, I had a bit of trouble with my rent for this month..."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie quirks an eyebrow, smiles wider, canines peeking out. Christ. "How are you going to make it up?"

"I'm sure we can come up with an—" Buck sets his hand on Eddie's thigh, has to bite back a grin at the sharp breath Eddie sucks in "—alternative payment plan."

"God, you're insufferable," Eddie says, leaning forward enough to brush his nose against Buck's. He swallows, throat clicking, and Eddie's smile widens again.

"And yet you suffer me anyway," Buck murmurs.

"Always."

Eddie kisses him then. But they're both smiling. It's more just pressing their mouths together and trying not to giggle. But it's the best kiss of his life. He's kissing Eddie. Eddie Diaz. His best friend. Partner of seven years. The love of his life. And it's a terrible kiss because neither of them can stop fucking smiling which makes it the best kiss of his whole entire life. And then, Eddie's hand finds its way to the back of Buck's neck, tilts his head just so, and oh. Oh. Every kiss with Eddie is going to be the best kiss of his life, huh?

They trade gentle, teasing kisses back and forth for what could be hours, days, weeks, months. For all Buck knows they could have been kissing longer than Eddie was in Texas. Likes the idea of that. They're sharing the same oxygen, and Buck thinks he doesn't want to breathe any air that Eddie hasn't already dragged into his lungs. Kind of wants Eddie to inhale him all the way in so Buck can live in his chest and make sure his lungs stay working always.

Eddie hums against his lips, and Buck wants to do something drastic. Wants to level the state of Texas with the sheer force of his all-consuming joy. Forgets Texas exists entirely when Eddie's hand begins to drag over his skin. Down from the back of his neck with a final scratch to his scalp that makes Buck keen, down to that spot on his shoulder that has been Eddie's longer than either of them knew, down to Buck's chest, settling over his heart. And Buck is helpless against the wounded noise that falls from his lips.

"Stay," Eddie whispers against him.

"I-I have a few conditions," Buck replies, somehow unknotting his tongue from its mission to tangle itself with Eddie's uvula.

"Of course you do." Eddie scoffs, pushes him away with the hand on his chest, then reels him back in by the collar of his shirt.

"Just one teeny one," Buck promises, bumping his forehead into Eddie's and then staying there. He gets distracted for a moment, lost in the brown of Eddie's eyes. "You're not allowed to leave the house for more than 24 hours at a time."

"Buck."

"Fine, forty-eight hours."

"Buck."

"Seventy-two hours and that's my final offer."

Eddie's eyes flutter shut with a sigh, long lashes brushing his cheeks. He shakes his head, but another brighter smile tugs at his cheeks.

"Deal," he rasps. And Buck thinks maybe, maybe, Eddie is going to give him his own time limit, stop Buck from ever leaving too long. But he knows. He always knows.

Eddie told him to stay. And Buck is nothing if not a good dog.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Residual Effects

Spencer Reid x fem!reader x platonic!James Wilson

wc: 5.8k

note: I came up with this as a second part to Differential Diagnosis, but you can read it as a standalone if you prefer. I hope you like it; I tried to humanize both men as much as possible. In other words, they make mistakes and are foolish, but they're still good guys.

Solving cases almost always left the team with an emotional burden that was difficult to recover from. That's why most took the opportunity to return home, rest, or relax as much as possible before being called upon again. However, this situation had turned out quite well: just a few victims and an unsub who wasn't truly dangerous—just a confused, somewhat unstable man, but not exactly deadly. Plus, it was local, which meant no wasted hours on the jet or the annoying process of packing and unpacking.

That meant good humor. And good humor always manifested itself in the desire to go for a few drinks.

“I’ve got them”

“You spoil us too much, Rossi,” Penelope commented with a cheerful laugh. No one, not even her, balked at the suggestion. Although, in reality, you hadn't decided where to go either.

You and Reid had been left behind, walking out of the building more slowly. He had that slightly hunched posture, hands in his pockets, shoulders tense. You too, hands in the pockets of your leather jacket, trying to ignore the slight tingling of tiredness in your back.

“Will you go?”

“Maybe. I'm kind of tired. I'd just go get a soda or something. Are you going?”

“Yeah... I mean, if you go,” he said, and finally looked at you, half smiling, “Then I’ll go.”

Ever since that case in New Jersey, almost a month ago, Spencer had been behaving differently toward you. Not weird or hostile, but definitely not the same. Sometimes he was quieter, shyer, as if he didn't know where to put his hands when talking to you. Other times, he looked for any excuse to be close, to comment on something, to stay a little longer. Just like now. As if being by your side was his priority, even if it meant fighting his social awkwardness.

You were about to say something, maybe a joke about how everyone needed to relax a little, when your phone started ringing. You had to fumble your hands out of your pockets and search for your phone, which seemed to be caught between the fabric and the lining.

Even though you moved quickly, it wasn't fast enough. Spencer managed to read the name that appeared on the screen. His expression changed almost imperceptibly: his jaw slightly tense, his eyebrows a little lower.

"Hello?"

“Is this a bad time to call?” a warm, familiar voice asked.

Hearing it, a smile spread across your face, almost reflexively.

“No! I'm just getting off work. We finished a case, and I was about to go out with my colleagues for a drink. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Just... I’m around.”

That simple phrase brought you to a complete stop. So did Spencer. You turned slightly to stand back from the group and hear him better.

“What? What do you mean you’re around? In Quantico?”

“DC, actually. There was an oncology conference today at the convention center. As the head of department, I had to attend. It wasn't anything spectacular, but I'll stay until tomorrow. And… I don't know, I was thinking about you.”

His voice sounded honest, a little unsure.

“I thought if you had time, we could have dinner. I know a really nice Italian restaurant a few blocks from where I'm staying. But if you already have plans, I don't want to interrupt anything.”

Your heart beat a little faster, though you weren't sure why. Maybe because of the surprise, or because of the way he said it. It wasn't just an invitation. He'd been thinking about you.

“You’re not interrupting. Seriously. We were just going somewhere. Nothing planned. If you’re here... I’d love to have dinner with you.”

In the background, you heard Emily playfully call your name. It was clear there were several curious ears.

"I'm at the Hilton, right across from the convention center. Do you want to meet me at the restaurant? Call a taxi, I'll pay for it."

“Oh, no need, I brought my car today. Is 40 minutes okay for you?”

“Perfect. I’ll take a shower and wait for you there.”

"That sounds great to me"

“I’m glad you said yes,” he added, more quietly. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.”

There was no way to hide your smile anymore, and you didn't try either.

“See you in a bit”

“I’ll be waiting for you. Drive carefully.”

You murmured a goodbye and then hung up. Emily and Morgan, like vultures circling emotional drama, immediately approached.

“And that happy face?”

“A friend invited me to dinner,” you replied without thinking much.

“A friend?” Morgan repeated, raising his eyebrows. “One who makes you smile like that on the phone?”

“He’s just a friend,” you insisted, even though you knew it wouldn’t convince them.

“It’s a he!”

By this point, the rest of the team was speaking more quietly to catch some of the conversation.

“What do you call this ‘just a friend’?” Emily asked with a mischievous smile.

“James Wilson”

Morgan burst out laughing.

“Is he handsome? Smart? Tall?”

“He’s a doctor. We met a few years ago.”

“He better be a cardiologist… because someone here is going to need help,” Emily joked.

While they laughed, Spencer remained silent. He didn't look at anyone, just at the floor.

“Aren’t you coming then?” he asked suddenly, without looking at you.

“I’m sorry, Spencer. I said yes.”

His posture made you feel like you owed him an explanation. He nodded once, briefly, almost as if he had trouble keeping his teeth from clenching.

“Okay. Have fun.”

“Is something wrong?” you asked softly.

“No. I just... thought we'd all go together. But it's okay.”

Emily and Morgan exchanged a look. Morgan, as always, was the first to break the awkward silence.

"Boy, if you want, we can invite the doctor too. Maybe you'll even become friends, you know, nerd to nerd."

“Very funny,” Reid muttered, walking toward the street without waiting for the others to follow.

This kind of behavior was unusual for him, and it made you wonder what was causing it. Your friends thought of a probable cause, but they didn't want to mention it. It was better for romantic matters to be resolved between those directly involved and not through mediation like theirs.

The other curious people had already realized that you wouldn't be accompanying them, because as soon as you got a little closer, they all crowded around you.

“I would love to go with you, but…”

“Say no more. We understand.”

“Should we expect a ring soon?”

“Come on, Garcia,” you laughed at how reckless the comment seemed compared to JJ’s. “He’s just a friend I haven’t seen in years. There’s no mystery to solve.”

You said goodbye to everyone with a hug, except for Spencer, who offered you only a wave. Distant and simple. But that's how he was when it came to contact, so you respected him and tried to take it in the best possible way.

“Have fun, drink responsibly, and don’t do anything you might regret tomorrow.”

“Or in nine months”

Emily winked at you, and the rest of them burst out laughing. Sometimes—most of the time—they were a total nightmare.

At the chorus of jeers, you just shook your head and started walking in the opposite direction. A smile still floated on your lips, but also that stabbing feeling in your chest that you couldn't understand where it was coming from. You're supposed to be excited about the invitation, right?

The drive was surprisingly short, and by the time you parked, you were a nervous wreck. You tried to fix your makeup as much as possible and were thankful there were no chases or anything that would make you sweat until you were smelly. Your hair didn't look too bad either, and you'd picked a nice outfit, thank God.

Then you looked at the bright sign on the building: RPM Italian. Wilson had texted you the address, and honestly, the place hadn’t disappointed at all.

It wasn't hard to find him once you were inside, after all he was the only man sitting, alone, at a table for two.

And it was impossible not to notice.

He wore a light blue shirt, impeccably buttoned to the neck, and a dark-striped tie that gave him a classic, almost collegiate look. The black jacket accentuated his straight shoulders, and the contrast with the restaurant's warm lighting brought out the softness of his skin and the subtle shine of his brown hair, combed to one side but with a few unruly strands falling over his forehead.

He had that kind of presence that made everything around him seem more contained, more intimate. Effortlessly elegant.

And just as you saw him, he saw you too. He looked up as if he'd been waiting for you all along. His smile—quiet, gentle, all his own—littered his face as soon as he recognized you. And that smile—the one you tried to hide—inevitably appeared on yours too.

"Hello"

“Hi,” you replied, moving closer as his gaze scanned your face with an expression as serene as it was genuine.

His cologne filled your nostrils: sophisticated, with notes of wood and something citrusy you couldn't quite identify, but it made you close your eyes for a second. It was a clean, masculine scent, as if his mere presence gave you a feeling of calm. As if it were his natural scent and not that of a fragrance perfectly chosen for him.

He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek.

“You look beautiful,” he said naturally, as if it were a fact, not a compliment.

Then, with a subtle gesture, he pulled your chair out for you.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. Even without traffic, the streets are a mess."

“Okay, my invitation was too hasty. I didn't even know if you were busy.”

“Today was a good day, cases don’t always turn out so well,” you began, watching him sit down in front of you.

He asked you to go deeper into the day's events, and you happily shared them with him. A bottle of wine was perfect for accompanying the conversation and, in the process, lifting both of your spirits.

Wilson told you about the conference, how everything had gone, the activities, the hustle and bustle of the day, and a little bit about what had been happening in his life over the past month. The past few years, actually, since the conversation you'd had while in New Jersey lasted only a minute. Although it was logical, after all, you couldn't gossip with him in the middle of such a delicate situation.

Now the night was yours.

“It’s so weird seeing you after so many years, you know?”

You frowned at his confession, not quite sure how to interpret it, and at the same time you smiled at him.

“Is it something bad or…?”

“No! Of course not. I mean, I didn’t think I’d see you again. I figured you’d be like most of the interns we have at the hospital, but when I saw you in House’s office that day, it was like… I don’t know, like I’d gone back in time or something.”

“It was a good time, wasn’t it? My twenties crisis seems like a breeze next to what it's like around thirty,” you murmured, making him laugh. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

"Really?"

“Yes. And I mean that as a compliment, for the record. I mean, you always seemed so… so human. Kind-hearted, gentle, funny. I always wondered what made you House’s friend.”

“He’s not that bad,” he defended him. “He just needs a little help sometimes. And patience most of the time. Deep down, he’s a good man, he tries hard to save patients.”

“I see you and I feel that every time you find a mess you think 'I can fix it,' and I honestly don't know if it's an act of selfless love for the world or some kind of self-imposed moral burden.”

“Are you saying I should stop being friends with House?”

“I’m saying you’re a complex personality. Very bright, polite, and kind, but at the same time, it’s as if something compels you to collect outcasts from around the world to try to rehabilitate them or something,” you smiled. “Forgive me if I took the liberty of assuming things about you. It’s part of… well, you know, my job.”

Wilson didn't seem offended. It was more like he was impressed by what you were telling him, perhaps too close to the truth.

“I can't imagine how complicated it is. The human mind is so… unpredictable. I rely on medical evidence, on tests, on the effectiveness of medications. But trying to understand the twists and turns of humanity—that's a challenge.”

“Sometimes it's enough to look a little deeper. You think you know something, but in reality you're looking at it from the wrong perspective or you're not seeing it objectively. It all depends on the person you are, who they are, their life story, their modus operandi. You have to look at things from the outside. It's like... when you eat something that seemed like the greatest delicacy in your childhood, but, as an adult, you realize it wasn't as good as your memories had led you to believe. Maybe I'm digressing, but…”

“No, I understand perfectly,” he finished. He looked at you with a certain admiration, though with those bright, tender brown eyes, it was hard to tell if it was genuine or just a natural reflex.

You were about to say something more about it when a hand placed on your shoulder made you jump. You doubted it was a waiter touching you so familiarly, and when you turned around, you found yourself staring into the face of your elegant Italian colleague.

“Rossi?”

“I just wanted to stop by and say hi. I want you to know we're not spying on you or anything.”

“What?” you squealed. He was speaking plural, what was it…? “No way.”

Your answer appeared a couple of tables over. They were all sitting at one of the tables, the whole team, laughing amongst themselves. Almost as if he felt your gaze, Spencer turned in your direction until he met your eyes; a second later, he focused on Wilson.

“It turns out we suddenly had a collective craving for Italian food, and since this is the best restaurant I know…” he shrugged, smiling, “What can I say? It’s just the coincidences of life.”

James watched with some interest and a touch of entertainment, as if he was enjoying the scene he was witnessing.

“Wilson, this is my… he’s my coworker, his name is David Rossi. Dave, this is Dr. James Wilson, one of the best oncologists in the country.”

“Just James,” he murmured, standing up to shake his hand. You could feel the BAU’s eyes on you. “It’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine. How lovely to see our darling so happy.”

You were going to make sure you killed him one of these days. Or if not, at least make him suffer. Your mind immediately went to how much fun the others must be having seeing you blush, and suddenly, you thought you wanted to kill them too. Spencer was the only one who watched everything impassively, as if he didn't want to be there. But he never went places he didn't want to be, so what was happening to everyone?

“Well, I appreciate you coming, but I think it's best if you advise our friends on the dishes. After all, you come here often, don't you?”

“You’re right,” he smiled. “We’ll be there if you need anything.”

You practically shoved Rossi out of your way and tried desperately to ignore how tense the atmosphere had become, at least from your perspective. Wilson wasn't uncomfortable at all; he was even smiling slightly.

“So those are your colleagues?”

"I swear I didn't tell them where I was. They must have heard it on the call or…"

“Does it bother you?” he interrupted. When you looked at him, confused, he continued, “That they’re here, I mean. That they see you with me.”

“No! My God, of course not. What I'm trying to say is, I hope you're not uncomfortable with them being here or anything. They're a bunch of gossip and… I'm sorry.”

“Do they know you like me?”

While that was true, it didn't stop you from freezing completely. You never expected him to express it so shamelessly, so directly and casually. A nervous laugh soon emerged, almost touching disbelief.

"Sorry?"

“Oh, it’s just… I don’t know, I thought you told them about the little conversation when you went to the hospital. Or your friend, anyway.”

“For starters, Reid isn't a big mouth. Second, that's none of their business. And third, you just said I like you, and in any case, the correct tense would be past tense: I liked you. A mild crush that all college girls eventually have, nothing more.”

A chuckle escaped his lips and you dared to look at him.

“Does this amuse you?”

“I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just… I don’t know, I thought it was really cute when I found out. I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of House, but I kept wondering how accurate his conclusions were.”

“House is reckless and an idiot”

“But most of the time he’s right,” he smiled, watching you closely. “Don’t feel bad.”

“I don't. That's in the past, Wilson. Besides, you are older than me.”

“Yes, but…”

“And you're married”

Suddenly, it was his turn to pale. He hadn't even mentioned his current wife, and the way his hand unconsciously went to his ring finger, searching for the non-existent jewel, gave you the confirmation you needed.

And yet, you felt like you'd just hit back. He didn't know for sure if you had ever been—or were ever—attracted to him, and you weren't sure a wife even existed. You were playing the same game, even though he didn't think you knew the rules.

Poor, naive Wilson.

“How… how did you know?”

"I made some guesses. You're not wearing your ring today, but you have a habit of going to that area with your thumb, as if you're used to playing with it. Just like you, a moment ago, I was just throwing a guess into the air."

He remained silent, observing you, as if your comment had activated a mirror he didn't know he needed. His expression didn't show annoyance, but rather a strange mix of vulnerability and respect. As if he felt exposed, yes... but not entirely uncomfortable about it.

Receiving no response, you continued:

“What I find curious is that you decided to forget it today. Maybe trying your luck? Are there a lot of pretty female oncologists at the conferences you attend?”

James didn't answer immediately. His hand slowly moved back from his ring finger, as if you'd caught him in the act. He cleared his throat, his smile barely visible.

“Things with my wife haven’t been going well for a while now…” he said, lowering his voice slightly, as if he knew any misspoken words could backfire on him “It wasn’t a planned gesture. Sometimes, when I’m feeling confused, I just… don’t wear it.”

“That sounds dangerously symbolic. Not wearing the ring, I mean. As if you're subconsciously permitting yourself to be a little less of a husband.”

“It’s not like that,” he said quickly “I promise.”

He understood the nature of your comment. And, honestly, he couldn't blame you. He'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't contacted you as an attempt to escape the routine, to see if maybe you were what his life was missing.

But he wouldn't tell you, of course not.

“Can I say something without sounding nosy?”

Wilson nodded, looking at you with genuine interest.

“Maybe... and I say maybe because I don't have all the answers, okay? But... maybe you should think about whether you're there because you still love her or because you're afraid of being alone.”

He gave a short laugh, with no trace of mockery.

“Would you say that from your own experience?”

“I say this because loneliness often disguises itself very well as commitment. And because there's nothing more exhausting than trying to keep a dead relationship alive just to avoid the silence.”

Wilson seemed to process this more seriously than you'd anticipated. He looked at you as if you were much more complex than he'd initially believed. After a moment, he tilted his head slightly.

“You are quite perceptive.”

“I already told you, it’s my job.”

As you watched him speak, with that polished charm that had once seemed unattainable, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment.

For years you had idealized him, as if James Wilson were the perfect representation of the thoughtful, brilliant, and emotionally available man who was so scarce in the world. But now, standing before you, you no longer saw the idol you had once fantasized about from a distance, but a real man: one who made mistakes, who made selfish decisions, who could be emotionally irresponsible without even realizing it.

You were still attracted to him (because it wasn't easy to shake off the feeling), but now it was tinged with reality and maturity. You might like him, you might desire him, but you also knew that trying something with him would be like walking on glass: complicated, unstable, and probably painful.

The parallel with your previous analogy –the objective view of your favorite food– felt like a bitter omen.

A comfortable pause settled between you. The restaurant music, the murmurs, the drinks, everything seemed to continue, ignoring the conversation you'd just had. Until he spoke again.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

It wasn't a loaded question. There was no ulterior motive. But you still looked at him with some suspicion.

“Was that a flirtation attempt?”

“No, it’s not that,” he said quickly, his hands raised. “I just… wanted to know. That’s not why I came to you, I just wanted to see you. I thought it would be a good idea to invite you to dinner”

A relaxed smile suddenly appeared. You felt more comfortable now that you knew he wasn't trying to get into your pants, although, to be honest, a month ago you would have accepted the offer without a second thought.

“It’s okay. I'm glad to know I'm not a whim of your midlife crisis,” you admitted. “And to answer your question, no. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

You said it sarcastically, and he smiled. You reminded him a little—too much—of House, and he wondered if that was a good or bad thing. He was surprised to think that the passing of time had taken away that insecure little girl, whom he now saw in Cameron, and made way for a worthy apprentice of the doctor. Perhaps that was why you had argued so much during that visit; two such strong personalities didn't get along so easily.

Oblivious to the other person's thoughts, your gaze involuntarily returned to the other table. Something in your chest suddenly tightened.

Spencer.

He wasn't laughing. Not like the others. He was watching you.

His eyes met yours, and for a moment you couldn't read him. He looked confused, annoyed... or just plain hurt. But it was him, after all, so nothing was as simple as it seemed.

“Everything okay?” Wilson asked, following your gaze.

“Yeah,” you answered, looking away from Spencer as if that would make him less important.

He knew who you'd been eyeing. He also wondered if your answer about a relationship was only half-truthful. If you'd been hiding something or had subconsciously been searching for the object of your desire after answering the question.

“House was quite impressed with your friend. He said he was brilliant.” James poured himself a little more wine, not hiding his curious tone “Rare for him to praise anyone other than himself.”

“Reid is… peculiar”

“I read some of his publications. The guy is a genius,” he took a sip. “And he seems very serious. I wonder if he’s always like this or if he’s just trying to kill the man in front of you with his eyes.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You knew Spencer was good at keeping his emotions under wraps, but you also knew he had a way of letting them show when he wanted. That was one of them.

Wilson looked at him once more.

“I think I just made an enemy without knowing why.”

“You’re not his enemy,” you said, your voice calm. “He’s just not used to seeing me outside of certain scenarios.”

“Like on a date?”

“It’s not a date”

“But it might seem so”

“Now you’re implying that he likes me?”

“No,” he murmured, without a trace of lying “I’m just saying what I see. Just like you.”

The sudden setback he gave you, with your own arguments, made you laugh while you shook your head.

“You know, of all the things that could have happened, I didn’t expect our evening to go this way.”

“Nor me. But I'm glad it did.”

"Why?"

"Because sometimes it's good to talk things through. To avoid misunderstandings."

“To think that I'm still in love with you, for example?”

“Or assume I’m trying to cheat on my wife with you.”

Suddenly, the atmosphere felt like there was a certain complicity, you could even say a certain unresolved tension. As if you were saying those things, but deep down, you were thinking that if you had kissed at any moment, it would have felt natural.

In a sort of tacit agreement, the topic of conversation changed, and you continued eating dinner as normal. The wine glass in your hand was almost empty, but you did not attempt to refill it. He didn’t either.

You both paused in that strange, comfortable moment that occurs after a long conversation, one that seems to have lasted minutes and yet a lifetime. The murmur of the Italian restaurant was soft, discreet, just enough to envelop you in a bubble where no one else seemed to exist.

At some point, dessert arrived, and with that, the time to say goodbye. You hadn't realized your friends were no longer at the next table, which made you wonder how long ago they'd left.

“It was… nice to see you,” he finally said, that nostalgic smile forming in his eyes more than on his lips “I didn’t know how much I needed it until it happened.”

“Yes,” you replied barely, in a soft voice. “I didn’t know either.”

He looked at you more closely, and then he said it. No drama, no cheap insinuations. He just blurted it out, as if he were confessing it more to himself than to you:

“If one day circumstances were different… I don’t know, I’d like to see you again.”

And there it was. The phrase that left the air suspended between you. You could have done many things with it: laugh, say yes, shake your head, respond with something equally ambiguous. But you did nothing. You just looked at him. And he understood.

He paid the bill without much insistence, and you didn't argue, because you knew it was a way to close the moment; to make everything intact, without cracks. When you left the restaurant, the night air greeted you with a light breeze and the scent of distant rain.

You wanted to say something else, but whatever thought had crossed your mind was cut short by what you saw. Spencer, standing on the corner, hands in his pockets and the collar of his coat pulled up to his cheeks. He didn't seem rushed, but he did seem expectant. When he saw you, his frown softened slightly... until he noticed who was walking beside you.

“Dr. Reid! It’s so nice to see you again.”

The aforementioned greeted him with a nod, trying to be as rude as possible, and saying a soft hello.

“Are you waiting for someone?”

“A taxi,” he muttered dryly.

The idea of giving him a ride immediately occurred to you, and as you looked at Wilson, it was as if he'd already read your mind. A soft smile told you he agreed.

“I can take you home.”

“Thanks, but I already called the taxi. It would be very rude to just leave.”

“That’s no problem,” the doctor chimed in. “I could have yours. I was thinking of taking one to get back to my hotel.”

Reid looked at you then, as if seeking confirmation that the option was really valid. Then he looked at Wilson, assessing without hiding it. The moment became intense, although no one said anything.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Either way, James was about to leave.”

“I was thinking of walking you to your car, don’t think I’m a savage,” he joked, and you laughed softly.

That brief, carefree laugh made both men look at you. For a moment, you were the exact center of two opposing universes.

You turned towards the elder.

“If you come back to town, please call me.”

“Same here. Even if you're not in Jersey and want to call me, I'm available.”

You leaned forward to say goodbye, with a hug, and he leaned his head down to kiss you. A simple, polite touch, with no ulterior motives… but not entirely innocent. Because Spencer saw it. Because Spencer felt it. And because you noticed it too.

“Sleep well. Good luck on your return flight.”

“Take care,” Wilson said, before saying goodbye with a last smile.

You gave Spencer a small nod and started walking toward the car. He followed you, but not before saying goodbye to Wilson with a formal handshake. You didn't want to pressure him. You decided to wait. You knew that if something needed to be said, it would come from him.

He walked in silence for several minutes, with his hands in his pockets and his steps slow.

“Did it go well?” he asked, without turning around completely. His tone was calm, but there was a barely perceptible tension in his words.

“Yeah. It was quite nice. I liked the food, the wine… the conversation was good.”

There was another pause.

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

You raised an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?"

“I don’t know if you had plans to go somewhere else afterward.”

You paused before looking at him again. You were almost back at the car.

“We just wanted to have dinner. Sleeping with married men isn't my style.”

Spencer turned his head, now yes, to look at you fully.

“Is he married?”

“As I feared,” you said, with a dry smile.

Your friend didn't know how to interpret that and looked down for a moment. The cold ran through you, chilling you to the bone, and you wondered if you could ask him for his coat to warm you up a little. But that would have been cruel.

“And if he wasn’t?” he then asked, without embellishment, “Would you have something with him?”

The question took you a little by surprise. Not because you weren't expecting it... but because the way he said it was too direct, even for him.

You sighed, letting the warm air escape through your lips.

“I don’t know,” you finally answered. “He’s kind, very handsome, and I like him, but… today I realized there are things about him, emotional things, that I don’t know if I could deal with. He’s full of voids that I don’t know if I want to fill.”

Spencer didn't say anything for a second. He just looked at you, as if trying to read what was behind your words. As if it hurt him that you weren't sure, but also as if he was relieved to hear that you weren't entirely convinced.

When you got to the car, you leaned against the door for a moment, searching for your keys. Spencer stood by your side, his hands still in his pockets, as if the weight of his coat could keep him firmly on the ground. The night was still warm, but you couldn't tell if the trembling in your hands was due to the weather or everything you'd said to each other. And everything you hadn't.

“Do you want me to drive?”

“No, Reid, it’s okay. I know you hate doing it.”

Your thoughtfulness made him smile, and he climbed into the passenger seat. You were grateful that it was warmer inside, something that would improve once the air-conditioning was on.

The man snuggled into the seat, staring out the window at the streets, and then you sat for a while enjoying the comfortable silence in the car. The only thing that remained was the murmur of the radio, which had just changed songs. A guitar filtered through the speakers, followed by a slightly nasal voice.

I met her in a club down in old Soho…

Spencer blinked, then tilted his head slightly, as if recognizing an old acquaintance. And when the song reached the chorus, he smiled.

“Did you know this song was banned on some radio stations for mentioning a soda brand?” he said suddenly, without you asking.

You barely turned your face towards him, without taking your eyes off the road.

"Huh?"

“Coca-Cola,” he explained, with that half-smile that appears when he’s about to share a piece of trivia that probably no one asked for but that he finds fascinating. “In the original version it says: 'Where you drink champagne and it tastes just like Coca-Cola' But the BBC didn’t allow explicit commercial references, so The Kinks had to go back to the studio to re-record it saying 'cherry cola' just so it could be played on the radio.”

“Are you kidding?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No. And it wasn't even because of the song's content. Which, if you think about it, is a lot more scandalous.”

Girls will be boys and boys will be girls, it's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world…

He raised an eyebrow, as if the song had just proven its point for him.

“It was written in 1970. A song about a relationship with a trans person or drag queen, amid the Conservative era. Ray Davies wrote it after his manager realized, too late, that Lola wasn't the woman she seemed. The fascinating thing is that the song never pokes fun at the subject. It's more… tender. Confusing, yes, but honest.”

You chuckled, impressed.

“I've never heard it before. It's a beautiful song.”

You were silent for a moment, listening.

“Also,” he added, in a softer tone, “it’s a good metaphor for embracing the unexpected. Things that don’t fit with what you believed. Or what you were prepared to feel.”

You didn't say anything, because you didn't need to. You just kept driving, while Lola continued singing her cheerful chorus, and you wondered if, in some way, that song sounded a little like what Spencer wasn't saying.

[strangersteddierthings]

Beg You to Love Me

"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.

"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.

The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"

Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."

"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."

Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.

He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"

"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"

Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"

"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.

"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-

"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."

"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"

"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"

"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"

"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"

"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"

"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"

"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"

"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"

"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.

"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.

Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"

"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"

Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"

Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."

Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.

"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"

Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.

"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."

Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"

Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.

He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.

He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.

He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"

He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."

"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.

"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."

Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.

Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."

"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.

Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."

They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.

Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."

The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.

A goddamn miracle.

Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.

They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.

They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.

But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

[weebsinstash]

I know the show isn't out yet but Stayed Gone is stuck in my head and I'm chugging my yandere Vox juice so hard right now. I think he has the capacity to be absolutely insufferable

---for starters THE SPYING POTENTIAL WITH THIS MAN. You're telling me he can directly plug himself in to the city power grid and see through all televisions, potentially even phones and computers too? Could he put himself on your phone and start going through your texts? Could he even just put himself on your phone real quick while you're sleeping to check in on you? You couldn't even have privacy in your own home because of whatever screens are around he could potentially shoot himself to or watch you through. Imagine just being in your apartment completely alone and he's suddenly on your tv. Like what if you had just been sitting there topless or with your dick out or something or 👀 I mean. He could see so much, really...

---God honestly like. You know I keep mentioning the Instagram without ever attaching pics or anything because I'm on mobile and I'd have to use the hazbin Instagram archive blogs here on tumblr to go find them back like, you know Val would openly post the meanest shit, would literally post Vox's face being busted up because he woke Val up from a nap or i think it was he literally just brought him the wrong soda (which to be fair was taken from Velvet and was half empty), and then you go over to Vox's account and his pic was taping his pieces back on while being really frustrated and kinda lowkey looking like he would cry

Like Val's out here "women are stupid also men are stupid too" and talking about how he adopted a dog and killed it within like 48 hours and here's Vox celebrating his pet's birthday with cake and a party like. Why are these men together. Why. Why. Don't get me wrong I love to be the involuntary third in a toxic codependency but--

look all I'm saying is... do any of you get really really upset when you see someone being mistreated, especially more so a friend of yours?

READER JUST LOSING THEIR SHIT GETTING FERAL ANGRY SHOUTING AND SCREAMING AT VAL BECAUSE HE PULLS SOME SHIT and like that's IT for you because 1. Valentino might like actually backhand you one as well, do you think he wears rings so it hurts, 2. Vox sees you defending him and like, it's based on your own preferences really but if he wasn't already gaga this CEMENTS it and 3. especially if he watches you have to take a blow for trying to stick up for him. Like what if you cry. I have a low pain threshold, I'd be sniveling and crying at the least. Valentino storms off and Vox is helping peel you off the floor cause you curled up into a ball or some shit and he's sitting there thinking "wow they suck at this but they still did it for me 🥺"

---during his song with Alastor, it's a little confusing because they show an actual camera crew when he's turning the TVs on, but i think it's pretty clear that he can control whatever the screens show visually, thus his little zany sketches and being able to talk to himself and at one point, showed the visual of himself blocking the radio Alastor was projecting on right next door. I can just see him using this to kind of.... fuck with you, really! Or do whatever he wants? He's trying to suck up to you and he's surrounded by roses, or you're his co-host/guest host and he thinks your joke was funny and gives a little audience laughter as a treat

Or you know... you're running from him down the street, passing all these different screens and displays as they power on and show things like, him "jumping in front of you" while demanding you stop or, trying to show some kind of blackmail publicly, or just, begging you to just ACCEPT HIM and showing you all the fun things he could do with you, "cmon, I said I was sorry, stop freaking the fuck out! We can- we can do that thing you've always wanted to do, what about that?!" as he tries to project you two doing something fun, but most importantly, doing it TOGETHER. You're running from him terrified and he's showing you images of like you two smiling and happy or, it becomes scarier as he's more desperate

"Don't-don't make me do something fucked up!! I'm serious, STOP RUNNING" and he's like freaking out, showing shit of trying to hold you down, tying you up, and/or shoving you into a locked room

Sudden thoughts of "what if the more emotional and unstable he becomes, the less he can control his intrusive thoughts and shows his more impulsive darker desires". He's tweeking and the screen glitches and you briefly think you see yourself completely restrained, blindfolded, gagged--

---he's just like OBVIOUSLY so prideful but also immature and whiny ("who gives a shit about alastor?" Well you, mr hes just quietly minding his own business and I'LL start beef because i feel threatened and STILL LOSE, like awww my poor little pogchamp got publicly humiliated in an argument HE started out of nowhere, he's my little sad wet baby lmaoooo) and we already know his relationship with Val can become physically abusive, so, you pair him staying in that kind of relationship, being codependent, with this personality of his, and I can just see.... ACTUALLY FUCKING TRIGGERED LIKE LITERALLY CRYING UPSET VOX BECAUSE YOU REJECTED HIM like he's pissed he's hurt he's lonely he's heartbroken and HELL NO IS HE GONNA ACCEPT THIS

Vox would be over here proudly claiming on his TV show that NO HE REJECTED Y O U, not the other way around! He's not upset! He's totally fine! Meanwhile everyone watching can tell this man is manic and visibly hotboxing copium, "I didn't even really like you anyways!!.... no, I mean, shit, fuck, COMMERCIAL BREAK--" *cut to technical difficulties screen because the man is CRYINGGG*

-- Valentino and Reader bonding over teasing Vox and making him flustered and of course, obviously, the inverse. I still kinda like the idea of "they both think you're cute but like nothing exciting until one night they bump into you unplanned and you're all dressed up". Like Val is from the 70s or 80s so they go to a roller rink disco whatever kinda place because I'm sure the coke game there is INSANE and you're just like, swaying your hips spinning around to Let It Whip or September or something dressed in some shorts that make your ass look just right 🤌

You're sneaking back into the studio after a night out and they're both lounging somewhere and Val's like "uhhhh who is THIS coming in without saying hi to Daddy?" and you pull your sunglasses down like "SIR??? 😳" And now HE'S flustered because he didn't know that was you and Vox is feeling some new kinda way because he's used to seeing you in like, your work uniform or casual wear

Val who then makes your work uniform really slutty and you have to serve him and Vox wearing it 😩❤️

---I have this thought of like lmao imagine walking down the sidewalk with Angel and seeing Vox on TV and Angel is like "ya know he can see everything outta dese things when he's plugged in" and you're like "bullshit, he couldn't possibly process that many screens at once, it'd overload his brain, he wouldnt be able to concentrate" and you're like "here I'll prove it, hey Vox, check it out you fucking dweeb" and flash him your bare titties or you MOON HIM

scenario A would be that he INSTANTLY barks out laughing, "hey Val, that dumb slut who brings you drinks just flashed me!" And he just totally shows it on the air, maybe partially censored, maybe not at all, your phone is ringing IMMEDIATELY, of COURSE it's Val, and Vox is broadcasting your mortified embarrassed expression, "our big story tonight: drunk bimbo fucks around and finds out! More updates after this word from our sponsor!" and the man will noooootttttttt stop bullying the fuck out of you afterwards, because he's got a crush on you and you're like someone weaker than him his insecure ass can punch down on

Scenario B is that he instantly turns pink and about 5 seconds later he blue screens and the entire city experiences a blackout and when he comes back on the air he's like stammering and, glancing at, it FEELS like he keeps glancing at you, but, is he really?

------

I dunno... like I'm sure Valentino is gonna wind up being unstable in his own way but I guess there's a certain, ALLURE to Vox being a little bratty and whiny while also having these very VERY handy, actually quite scary abilities and resources 👀 like boy show me what that screen do 😫💦

[yanderedrabbles]

hiii, love ur stuff. Do you have any tips on writing/making it better? Anything I try to write is super short and bland tbh

I'm so flattered that you're asking me anon! Personally, I think writing style can change a lot over time. And bland doesn't necessarily mean bad.

I used to have such a huge issue grasping the idea, but your work doesn't have to be dense with metaphors or paragraphs of prose to be good.

I think a lot of it comes from the prestige of literary writing. The idea that you're not a real writer unless you're being artistic. And to most of us, artistic usually means lots of metaphors, lots of prose, lots of slightly confusing allegories. And God forbid you write to be popular or to cater to mass appeal. In that case, my mind insisted on telling me I wasn't an artist, I was a hack. A sell-out.

What utter bull. A simple, bare-bones writing style is just as appealing as a richer, more descriptive one. Think Hemingway. Notorious for clear cut and direct prose, and he's considered one of the greats.

That being said, here are some of my tips to write longer, more interesting pieces:

Clichés. Oh, the dreaded cliche. Almost unavoidable, because it gets the job done. Says what needs to be said. I thought avoiding clichés like the plague was the best option, but I've since come to appreciate the art of freshening up a cliche. Giving it a unique twist.

The most famous example I can think of is:

She looked like a million bucks tax free.

Two words added onto a tired cliche, and suddenly it's new and fresh and has all sorts of implications.

In fanfic, there are more than a few phrases that get used by just about everyone.

"His eyes darkened. He growled. His grip tightened."

If using those was a crime I'd be serving on death row. But the truth is, they work. They convey the idea. With how often they show up though, I think it's fair that they get spiffed up now and again. Exchange the classics for slight variations.

"His eyes were getting darker by the second. He snarled. His hold was hot iron, and it was cooling fast."

Don't be too fanatic, but whenever a sentence feels a little stale, see what you can change to make it unique.

Voice. Seriously, the secret power behind the best authors. Voice is that undefinable sense of character that makes a piece far more engaging. Examples of fics that use a pretty strong voice are the Hush fic, Yandere Sherriff and Yandere Prison Warden.

When it comes to nailing down voice ask yourself:

What time period am I writing in? Are there phrases or slang that were popular at the time?

How educated is my character? Are they a stickler for grammar or do they speak more casually?

What is my character's background? How does that affect the way they think and speak?

What is my character's attitude towards life? Do they observe everything with a cool, detached mind? Are they jaded or angry? Are they sarcastic or prickly?

An exercise I like doing when it comes to creating a stronger sense of voice is a free flow document. Where I pretend I'm interviewing one of the characters, getting a better sense of who they are. Here's an example of a free-flow doc I did for an upcoming cyberpunk character:

V: How did you grow up? C: Rough. The kind of neighbourhood where you don't look twice at what you see. V: And do you think that's affected you in any way? C: What are you, some kind of head doctor? 'Course it affected me. You'd be pretty kicked up, too, if you saw the shit I did. V: Is that why you're so comfortable with violence? C: Violence. What a shitty fucking word for it. Kind of thing you say when all you've ever seen is the inside of a university. It's not violence, doc. It's surviving. It's living. It's tranqing someone else so you can live to see another day. It's the fucking sticks.

As you can probably tell, this isn't a nice character. He doesn't speak the way a polite man would. And that's voice.

Planning. Now, this one greatly depends on your own preference, but I like to plot out my stories. Usually before or in the middle of the fic. This doesn't have to be intense. Just a few notes jotted down to determine the outcome and the best way to get there. I've found that as I plot I tend to get new ideas, too. Usually leading to a much longer story (cough yandere prison warden cough).

Read the style you want to write. Boring advice, I know. You've heard it already, and you've heard it better. But, the truth is, when you read mindfully, you pick up half a million little tricks. The trick is to read like an editor.

Read over your favourite pieces and ask yourself what makes them so good. Is the characterization? Is it the author's style of prose? What works and what doesn't? After a while, you'll find yourself recognising patterns and implementing them in your own work.

And lastly, remember that your work is your own and that's what your readers love. If your style feels a little bland, experiment with different genres or styles of writing. I promise you, your readers won't mind one bit.

[unforth]

Alright not to like liveblog my breakdown on main but yesterday was a really bad day after a really bad, like, 4 months, and I've hit a bit of a breaking point and one of the only things in my life that can give is running @mdzsartreblogs , @tgcfartreblogs , @svsssartreblogs , @erhaartreblogs , @tykartreblogs , and @cnovelartreblogs , so that is what has to give. It's been a 99-out-of-100 days thankless job. A small number of people do say thank you and yall I appreciate you so much (HUGE shout-out to the artist I met at Flamecon who gifted me a zine when I said I ran these blogs, @bonesblubs you rock) but I have never done an act of fandom labor simultaneously this labor intensive yet this invisible before and, uh. It sucks. I spend an hour or more a day on this every day, if it's under 2k hours since I started the first of these in September 2020 I'd be shocked. And I do it because I love it but doing it means I don't have time or energy to do other things I love. And I really don't want to just quit, but I can't keep this up.

In a last-ditch effort to try not to just give up, I'm making the following changes:

1. Only watching one tag per fandom for the MXTX fandoms. I am going to check *only* #tgcf, #svsss, and #mdzs. Artwork posted to any other tag, I will not see unless a mutual reblogs it.

2. Reduced tagging (even more). I'm only going to tag characters and maybe overarching au type (eg, "modern au," "fantasy au"). I'll no longer tag creatures. I will continue to tag the same common trigger warnings I already tag.

3. If a work's appearance doesn't make it obvious what it is AND the tags aren't clear, I'm not going to reblog. I can't keep spending 5 minutes or more trying to figure out what I'm even looking at, scared that if I guess wrong the artist will get mad at me for mistagging their work. If I do reblog, I'll tag only the artist name and/or whatever else I can identify for sure.

4. I am no longer going to follow #link click. The fandom is just too big. I've started dreading checking it. If I was more into it and less busy I would make another spin off just for it but neither of those is true. (The art is so good, I hate to do this, but. If you love link click, highly recommend the main tag, lots of great stuff there.)

5. I will no longer tag any non-cnovel content in the art/post. Like, if someone draws, idek, Xie Lian and Marinette from Ladybug, I'm not gonna put any tags for Marinette, just for Xie Lian.

6. Basically if I run into something hard to tag or confusing or unclear, my new policy is I'm not gonna fricken bother.

I think those are everything but idefk, I cried for 3 hours last night and got 4 hours of sleep so I'm mostly fueled by exhaustion and desperation right now and my memory is even more fried than usual.

How artists can help. This is obviously all optional. You do you. But since some people might want to know what would make my life easier, I'm sharing. I'm not claiming I feel entitled to dictate how people fandom or anything like that.

1. Put the tags for the character(s) and ship(s) early in the tag list.

2. If you make art for a fandom that isn't one of the big ones (right now the only big danmei fandoms on tumblr as far as I can tell are the MXTX fandoms and maybe 2ha) I am begging you to use my tracked tag #cnovelartreblogs

3. Do mdzs art? Tag #mdzs. Do tgcf art? Tag #tgcf. Do svsss art? Tag #svsss.

4. Not only artists, but everyone, *please* stop tagging fandoms not discussed and/or depicted in your post. It's gotten to be stupid common for people to blanket the danmei fandom tags with posts only about one fandon (like, svsss-only works also being tagged mdzs and tgcf and 2ha for some damn reason). This isn't about just my sideblogs tbh this is just fandom etiquette that seems to have been forgotten or never learned by many. Tagging unrelated fandoms isn't "reach," it's annoying. People go into the #mdzs tag to see mdzs, not whatever not-mdzs stuff people have decided to tag for ~reach~, and seeing the same post in 8 tags, none of which it's related to, is so damn irritating, and makes scrolling the tags looking for content that IS relevant take that much longer. Knock it off.

Okay. I think that's as much as I'm prepared to meltdown where everyone can see. Thanks in advance everyone for your understanding, and apologies to everyone about to see this 8 times as I reblog it to each sideblog.

At least I'm not tagging it to everywhere. 🤣🤣🤣

[devotedlykoneshots]

PARK SEONGHWA - ACT OF DOMINANCE

Genre: 🔞, minors DNI, i got a little too into it, woosan are mentioned and later make an entrance, y/n is a brat. Switch! Reader, switch!seonghwa. Seonghwa being a green flag.

↓↓↓↓

It was very rare of you to spend the night with your boyfriend seonghwa, his busy schedule and your job made that quite impossible but you still made time for each other.

Your relationship had love , comedy, understanding and a whole lot of sex.

That included nights like tonight where he had arranged for you to spend the entire night with him,he cooked dinner and you ate really good food.

It started to feel too good to be true even, laying on the bed with your head on his chest and you should have known it was in fact too good to be true.

You had given up on watching your movie once the banging of someone's headboard started, moans vibrating off the walls. A clear indication that someone was getting fucked.

It seemed they overpowered everything in the damn apartment because that's all you heard for an hour straight.

His TV wasn't even loud enough to overpower such pornographic moans coming from lord knows where in the house. All you knew was some poor girl was being split open.

Unfortunately, It was just San and wooyoung with another poor girl who thought she had a chance with either of them but she would soon realize that wasn't the case.

"You wanna fuck louder than them to establish dominance?"he asked, his voice catching you off guard and you looked at him with wide eyes.

"You're crazy"you flat out told him and he shrugs, sitting up and looking down at you as he leans against one of his hands.

"Would you rather sit here and listen to two groan men groaning as they try not to bust a nut so fast?"he asked and you bite your bottom lip, he had you there and also because it almost made you laugh.

"I mean no but poor yeosang"you said and he snorted , knowing damn well yeosang would be the first to get the hell out of the apartment during times like this.

"Yeosang probably left the moment he saw what they were bringing in the door"he said and you nodded with a laugh , you knew he was right. Yeosang is always looking for an excuse to dip.

"Choose another excuse"he continues and you're reminded of the conversation again.

"My period-"he scoffs.

"I keep track of your period and it's not tonight or this week for that matter"his entire statement throwing you off guard, cocking your head to the side in confusion.

"You keep track?"you asked, it wasn't a ridiculous thing for him to do but it was a kind gesture. One that separates him from most men on the planet, you're not used to people like seonghwa.

Genuine people that actually care and make you a priority in their life.

"You get really busy sometimes and don't have time to prepare for it , so I thought I'd do it for you just in case"he explained as if it was no big deal but it was to you , it was a very big deal.

So you sat up and kissed him, he was shocked by the kiss to say the least but kissed back anyway and let you guide him onto his back before straddling his lap.

"Just to make this clear, I'm not fucking you to establish dominance or whatever but because you're a great boyfriend hwa"you speak slowly to make sure he is paying attention to every word you're saying as you lean over him and slip your hands down his pants.

"I'm okay with that"he gulps and bites his bottom lip , you smile and peck his forehead.

"Good"you bring your hand back out and spit onto your palm, slipping your hand back inside and thanking your lucky stars that he decided he wouldn't need boxers tonight.

"Looks like someone knew we  wouldn't be doing much of anything we planned tonight"you accused him and watched as his ears turned red from blushing.

"I was hopeful"he said and gasped as you started to stroke his half hard cock, your lips connecting with his own in another kiss.

The kiss was passionate, conveying all the hidden 'i love yous' you couldn't say with words,  the tight grip on your waist telling you he needed you a lot more than he could ever tell you with words.

He hisses against your lips as your thumb swipes over his leaking tip , you smile and pull back to look at his face.

"Bet I can make you cum like this"you tell him and he rolls his eyes , not having the willpower to do anything at the moment with his mind so dazed.

Your hand picks up the pace and you can hear the squelching from his cock and your hand, his eyes squeezing shut tightly and his hand reaches out for your hand.

"What the fuck has gotten into you"he groans as his hips buck against your hand and you pull your hand away from his slippery cock , you continue to do this. Stroking his cock quickly to the point he was on the brink of cumming before stopping with an amused laugh.

You finally decided to let up on your assault as you pull away , licking the excess liquid from your hand and kissing his lips again before pulling away.

"I just wanna make you feel good, baby, you've been so good to me and I want to return the favor"you tell him and he smiles, running his hands up and down your thighs.

"Yeah? You gonna show me how much you appreciate me, princess?"he asked and you bite your bottom lip, nodding your head and getting off of him.

You push him down on the bed and yank his pants down his legs, his hard cock hitting his stomach and lick your lips before looking back up at him.

For the first time in his life seonghwa felt like the prey and he wasn't sure if he liked this side of you or not, he was more of a giver than a receiver but he didn't dislike it either.

It was new, this was just another side of you he was experiencing for the first time and all because you found out he keeps track of your menstrual cycle.

"Can I taste you first, baby? Just a little taste"his voice gains your attention and you climb up the bed to sit by his side.

"You promise?"you ask him and he hums, nodding his head as his eyes trail up and down your body clad in one of his shirts. You didn't wear a bra around him and he made that clear that you didn't need to , he knew they were uncomfortable for you and he wanted you to be comfortable with him at all times.

"Yeah , angel. I promise."he said and you bite your bottom lip, standing up to remove your damp underwear and straddling his face.

You watched as his breath got caught in his throat once he realized you were about to sit on his face and you ran your fingers through his hair.

"Oh fuck- you're driving me crazy"he doesn't waste another second and burys his face in your pussy, licking and sucking at your flesh and clit.

"Just a taste remember"you reminded him, tonight wasn't about you but what you didn't count on was how much this would affect him.

He was taking more than just a taste, he was devouring you and moaning into your pussy like he was enjoying a good meal.

"Baby, fuck- you said just a taste"you were practically riding his face as your body caved in on itself and he hummed, rolling your nipples between his fingers through your shirt.

"Fuck- I'm gonna cum"you grip his hair and roll your hips faster, he sucks harder as he licks you with more fervour and your back arches as you let out a gasp. You grip the pillow above his head as you cum and he hums, licking your pussy until you come back to your senses.

"You said-"you gulp as you try to catch your breath and he cups your face with one hand.

"Never trust what a man says when he's eating good pussy"he never intended on having just a taste, seonghwa has never half-assed anything in his life.

He couldn't believe you actually thought he really meant what he said even if he made that promise, promises get broken everyday.

"This is about making you feel good, not me"you have to keep reminding him or reminding yourself.

"You think me having my face between your legs doesn't make me feel good?"he asked with furrowed eyebrows and you bit your bottom lip, looking down and not able to meet his eyes.

"Love, I want nothing more than to have my face buried between your legs as I make you cum over and over again for hours"he tilts your chin up for you to meet his gaze as he speaks and you squeeze your legs close , his words only turning you on and he definitely noticed.

"You want that too, princess?"he asked and you look down at his cock, wrapping your hand around his length and his hips buck into your palm almost immediately.

"You're distracting me"you tell him , shaking your head as if that would help get his words out of your brain and he chuckles at you.

"Then sit on it"he said and you looked back up at him, confused for a moment.

"What?"you asked and he grabs your hand, squeezing your hand around the base of his cock to make you tighten your grip on his shaft.

"Sit on my cock and make me cum, that's what you really want, isn't it?"you bite your bottom lip and shake your head at that and he continues, using his hand to trail a hand down your hair and down to your back.

"You just want my cock to fill you up like only I can, right? Fuck- you nice and slow, make you feel every inch for the first round"he said, you cling onto his every word and he watches as you have this internal war with yourself.

"F-first round?"it was a dumb question really but in your defense your mind was dazed like his had been a few minutes prior.

"We both know you like it rough, want my cock to fuck you until you're too tired to do anything else except take it over and over again"he's speaking too casual for someone who's hand was trailing dangerously low and cupping your heat.

"You're so dirty"you damn near sob, your confidence slipping and turning into the whiny slut he knows you to be.

"Is that why you're so fucking wet?"he asked as he plunges two fingers into your entrance and you gasp, leaning forward over his lap as his fingers thrust into your squelching cunt.

"Seonghwa please"you grip onto the sheets and he grins, licking his top lip and thrusting his fingers into you faster.

"There's my whiny little slut, welcome back, baby"he coos and you climb over his body trying to get away from his fingers, you still believed you could regain control of the situation but the sudden grip on your hair serves as a reminder that you in fact don't.

"Where do you think you're going? Getting me all riled up and now you're trying to run?"you're curled up beside him in a fetal position as his fingers continue their assault on your pussy, your moans filling the room and his lips find your neck.

"So pretty, wanna mark you so everyone knows you're getting dick at work"he's so shameless and dirty when he knows he has power over you like this, he knows how much his words affect you and turn you on and the way your pussy clenched around his fingers was just more evidence of this known fact.

"Kiss me"you tell him and he chuckles, slowing down his fingers to give you his full attention.

"I don't know , you edged me earlier and that wasn't very nice"he snickers, you could cry but you won't give him that satisfaction.

"Didn't want you to cum, yet"you lie , you both know that's a lie and he scoffs.

"Liar, you were enjoying having all the power. Tell the truth and I'll take it easy on you tonight"he offers you one last chance to be honest with him.

He valued honesty over most things in life.

"Maybe I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would"you admit and he hums, pleased with your answer.

"Now, cum for me"his fingers retreat and you feel something a lot bigger enter your cunt and he thrusts into you immediately and you gasp.

"Oh fuck-"you cry out and he pulls you back on his cock, he meant everything he said and kept his slow pace.

You could feel every detail of his cock as he thrusted into you and his lips kept sucking and licking at your neck, fingers slipping under your body to toy with your nipples as he licks and sucks your newly exposed shoulder.

"You feel amazing, pussy keeps sucking me right back in"he whispers in your ear and you bite your bottom lip, rolling your hips back against his cock every time he tries to pull out.

"Look at you , fucking yourself back on my cock"he laughs softly and you whimper, your back arching at the familiar feeling forming in the pit of your belly.

"Oh fuck- I'm close"seonghwa hummed at your statement and closed his lips around your clothed nipple, licking and sucking through the material of the shirt.

"Hwa"you gasp and arch your back, he uses another hand to fondle with your other boob beneath the shirt.

"You gonna cum for me?"he asked  and you nodded , your body starting to tremble as your orgasm neared.

"I will, please"you look back at him and he kisses your lips finally, sucking on your tongue and rubbing your clit with his free hand.

"I'm cumming"you pull away from the kiss in favor of gripping the sheets and cumming as you moaned out loudly.

Seonghwa pulls out of you and rolls you onto your back, patting your face lightly and spreading your legs.

"Come back to me, baby"he said and smiled as your eyes focused on him once again, he kisses your lips again and he slips his cock back inside of you.

"You didn't cum"you whimper and he shushes you, rolling his hips into you and watching as your back arches again.

"I will, you're gonna make me cum so hard"he kisses you again and you hum , eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I will?"you ask once he breaks the kiss and he smiles, looking down as he watches his cock disappear into your cunt.

"Gotta show me just how much you appreciate me, baby. Don't you remember?"he smiled at you and you can't help but notice how unreal he looks right now, a light sheen of sweat and his hair a little messy due to your hands tugging on the strands earlier.

"Can I ride you?"you asked him and he presses his forehead against your own.

"You can use me however you like, princess"is all he says before he starts to thrust into you faster , staying true to his statements from earlier.

This being round two , which meant that he would no longer be pulling back on his thrusts and that thought alone made you moan. He grabs a fist full of your shirt and thrusts into you harder, your tits bouncing against the slightly damp material.

"Fuck- baby, oh fuck-"you moan and pull him into a kiss, his hips don't stop thrusting into you as he kisses you and sucks on your tongue.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room and you run your hands underneath his shirt, gripping at his back and wrapping your legs around his waist.

The kiss is sloppy and it's almost as if you both were trying to devour each other, he eventually pulls back to hover above you and continue to abuse your sopping cunt.

"I'm gonna cum"your back arches and you sink your nails into his back, your chests pressed against each other before he snaps his hips into your harshly as he forces your hips back down against the mattress.

"Fuck-!"you cry out and he pushes your shirt up so he could bury his face between your boobs , licking between the valley of your breasts.

"Come on , angel, give it to me"he licks your nipple and sucks it into his mouth, flicking his tongue against the sensitive nub and maintaining eye contact.

That's all it takes to send you over the edge.

Your fingers grip his hair and you hold him against your chest as you let out a tiny squeak , cumming as your body trembles and he pants as he slows down his thrusts.

"You still with me, baby?"you hum at his question and he smiles at you, kissing your lips again and you hum against his lips.

"Time to show me how much you appreciate me, baby"he said and pulled you up, you both swap places and he helps you straddle his lap before you sink down on his cock.

"Oh fuck-"your eyes roll to the back of your head and you start to roll your hips , he hums and closes his eyes.

"I love you, angel"he said, opening his eyes to watch as you remove his shirt and he is quick to remove his own.

"I love you, too. You're so good to me."you start to bounce up and down on his cock, his hands are quick to find your hips to aid you in riding him.

"You deserve it"he moans and you speed up your pace, earning you a tighter grip on your hips and he thrusts his cock into you as he gets close.

"I'm so close"he warns you and you bite your bottom lip, planting your feet on the bed as you bounce faster and he lets out a strained moan.

"Fuck- I'm cumming"you knew you would probably get in trouble for what you were about to do but you did it anyway.

You stopped moving and held his hips down, a gasp leaving his lips in disbelief and a shiver ran through you at the glare he gave you.

"Did you just-"another gasp leaves his lips as you started to bounce on his cock again, continuing this routine of edging him to the point of cumming before denying him all over again.

"Beg for it, beg for me to make you cum"you demand as you slowly rolled your hips, his hands gripping the sheets tightly.

"Baby , please. I let you cum three times already"he begged but that's not what you wanted to hear, this was payback for all those times he made you beg with tears rolling down your face.

"That doesn't sound like begging to me"you raised your hips as if to threaten that you were gonna pull off of him completely, that was until you found yourself pushed onto your back and a gasp leaving your lips.

"Hwa"you bite your bottom lip as he grabs a fist full of your hair and he pulls you up, he's now on his knees.

"Don't mistake me letting you have control as you actually having control, I really tried to be patient with you"he said and you looked at him , grabbing at the hand on your hair.

"I'm sorry"you apologized and his face softened, he always had a soft spot for you-

"You will be"nevermind, he was still pissed and he smiles but this one wasn't like the others. It was almost menacing.

"Now, on your hands and knees"he ordered you and you listened for what felt like the first time tonight, he doesn't waste time in slipping back inside you.

"Denying me an orgasm wasn't nice of you , thought you said you wanted to show me how much you appreciate me"he thrusts into you not very nicely at all, he's getting his revenge just like you were and rightfully so.

"Or was that just a cover for you to be a brat and get what you want"he continues and the moment you decide to speak he cuts you off.

"I wasnt-"

"Shut up, this isn't about you. Remember?"he scoffs and pushes your face down into the mattress, his cock bullying itself inside of your hole.

Your moans are uncontrollable and incoherent whines and whimpers, sobs and indistinguishable pleas are followed directly behind them.

"I'm finally gonna cum after your neglect, is that how you treat someone who is good to you? Being a brat?"you don't think he will be letting that go anytime soon, you swallow the lump in your throat and grip the sheets tightly.

"Not a brat"you moan out and he slaps your ass, you let out a squeak and he grabs your hips as he pulls you back onto his cock while he thrusts faster.

"Stop talking, you've been lying all night" he spat and you arch your back, his hand cups your chin and he pulls you into a kiss.

"Oh fuck- I'm cumming"he groans out and thrusts against your ass faster, intertwining your fingers and pressing you back against his chest.

"Hwa!"you cry out as you both cum at the same time and his arms wrap around you lazily, hips still stuttering as he pumps you full of his cum and you whimper when he pulls out of you.

"I know , I know it feels good. No one else can fuck you like you deserve, like the slut I know you are deep down inside."he whispers against your shoulder, the both of you covered in a sheen of sweat.

You both lay down on the bed , the both of you completely spent but the hand that makes it's way to your hair and tugs tells a different story.

"Get over here and apologize to my cock"he said and you nodded, getting on your knees and moving between his legs.

"How do I do that?"you ask, looking up at him and he lets out a laugh as his hand reaches out to stroke your cheek.

"Have I fucked you dumb? Open your mouth, angel"he said and you did as you were told, taking his cock into your mouth and sucking on the tip.

"That's it, that's my good girl"he lets out a sigh and leans his head back, your mouth taking him in deeper.

Inch by inch , your mouth fills with his cock as you hollow your cheeks around his shaft and suck harder. You bobb your head along his length as you move faster, the sweet sounds of your slicked mouth filled with his cock fills the room as he moans softly.

"So pretty with your mouth full, it's almost as if you're enjoying this more than me"he can tell by the way you're moaning around his shaft, your moans playing off each other's almost like a domino effect.

That would explain why he was getting closer a lot faster than he anticipated, your moans around his cock would make him moan and tug your hair which in return would make you moan louder.

"I'm gonna cum, want me to cum inside that sinful little mouth of yours?"he asked and you nodded your head, humming around his length and he groans softly as he starts to buck his hips against your face.

You choke around his shaft at the sudden intrusion of his cock reaching deeper into your throat but he doesn't stop, if anything the sight of you struggling to take him in your mouth made his cock leak with arousal.

"Just a little more, baby. Almost there."he groans as he fucks your throat and you sink your nails into his hips, he throws his head back and cums down your throat as he holds your face flushed against his pelvis before he lets go completely.

You sit back up and cough, trying to catch your breath and you look at him as he sits back up.

"I wasn't too rough, was I?"he asked as he sits up and just like that, he was back to being that concerned boyfriend and you giggled as you press your forehead against his.

"You're perfect"you mean it and he smiles, kissing your lips as his thumb strokes your cheek and nuzzling his nose against yours once he pulled away.

"you're not a brat, you know that right?"he asked , he always questioned if he went too far and you reassured him repeatedly that it was alright. You don't mind being his brat for a few hours.

"Yeah"you smile as you wrap your hand around his shaft and start stroking his length again, looking down and spitting on his cock.

He smiles and lets out a laugh as he throws his head back and leans back against his arms.

"Should we continue this in the shower?"he asked and leans forward to reconnect his lips with yours, your tongues colliding together for what felt like the tenth time tonight.

"God, No! Give it a rest , already!"you could hear the clear distress of wooyoungs voice, you and seonghwa both pull back to burst out laughing.

"Don't any of you people work-"you hear and san being the only voice of reasoning, clamps a hand over wooyoungs mouth.

"Wooyoung! Get your ass back upstairs"

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

for the drabbles

I like the idea of royal au, like kinda vibes of swanqueen but Wanda is cruel and reader always here to take punishment and to comfort her and one day Wanda has her nightmare again and she calls reader to deal with fear through sex but reader refuses, instead taking care of her through cuddles and soft care. Wanda confused but then they had that chat about reader always being here because reader don't think Wanda's cruel, she thinks Wanda is broken by events in her life

and then that's it, happy after

–🐭

For You I'd Do Anything

Queen!Wanda Maximoff x knight!fem!reader

Summary: Your Queen requires your assistance after a nightmare, but you give her a second option.

Word Count: 648

Warnings: Nothing really. A comfort fic.

Authors Note: Queen Wanda has my heart. Her having all the power, but still letting us see her crumble mmmmm love her

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the royal palace. The corridors were silent, the usual hustle of servants and guards replaced by a serene stillness. Queen Wanda Maximoff, a ruler known for her cold and unyielding demeanor, was tossing and turning in her grand bedchamber, haunted by nightmares.

You, her personal knight, were accustomed to the queen’s cruelty, always bearing the brunt of her wrath without complaint. Your loyalty and devotion to her were unwavering, driven by a belief that her harsh exterior concealed deep wounds from her past.

Suddenly, a sharp, panicked cry pierced the silence. You were already on your feet, armor hastily donned, and rushed to the queen’s chambers. When you entered, you found Wanda sitting up in bed, her face pale and glistening with sweat.

“Your Majesty, are you alright?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

Wanda’s eyes, wide with fear, flickered to you. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, but the tremor in her hands betrayed her.

“I had a nightmare,” she admitted, her voice uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable. “I need you to…make it go away.”

Her implication was clear, and while you had never refused her before, tonight was different. You couldn’t bring yourself to take advantage of her vulnerability, even if she commanded it.

“No, my queen,” you said gently but firmly. “Not like that.”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion and anger. “You dare defy me?”

You stepped closer, your expression softening. “I dare to care for you, Your Majesty. Let me help you in another way.” You took off the armor you had hastily donned.

You approached her bedside and, with tentative movements, sat down beside her. Wanda watched you warily, unsure of your intentions. Slowly, you reached out and took her hand, your touch warm and reassuring.

“Lie back down,” you whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

To your surprise, Wanda complied, though her expression remained a mixture of confusion and suspicion. You gently pulled the covers over her and then wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace. She stiffened at first, unaccustomed to such gentle contact, but gradually she relaxed, her head resting against your chest.

You stroked her hair softly, whispering soothing words. “It’s alright, Wanda. You’re safe. I’m here.”

The queen’s breaths slowly evened out, the remnants of her nightmare fading away. For a long moment, there was silence, broken only by the soft crackle of the fireplace and her steady breathing.

“Why do you do this?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why do you stay?”

“Because I care about you,” you replied without hesitation. “I don’t think you’re cruel, Wanda. I think you’re hurt. I see the pain behind your actions, the sadness in your eyes. And I want to help you, to be there for you, no matter what.”

Wanda turned slightly, looking up at you with a mixture of vulnerability and disbelief. “No one has ever…seen me like that before.”

You smiled gently. “Then let me be the first. You don’t have to face your fears alone. I’ll always be here for you, Wanda. Always.”

Tears glistened in her eyes, and for the first time, you saw the fragile, broken woman behind the queen’s mask. She clung to you a little tighter, finding solace in your unwavering presence.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

You held her close, knowing that this moment was the beginning of something new. The queen had finally found someone who saw her for who she truly was, and you were determined to be her strength, her solace, and her unwavering protector.

As the night wore on, Wanda’s breathing grew steady and calm, and for the first time in a long while, she drifted into a peaceful sleep, secure in the knowledge that she was not alone.

[dunmeshistash]

Greetings, Mr. Meshi!

This is perhaps a bit of an unorthodox question, but one that has been bothering me for an unreasonable amount of time.

Now, here's the thing: I OBSESS over Marcille outliving everyone she holds dear. It's a theme very close to me, but even beyond that I just find it to be one of the most interesting elements of Dungeon Meshi's story for me personally. I've written an embarrassing amount of lengthy essays on it that will never see the light of day - that's how obsessed I am over this specific element of her character. But, there's something that bothers me...

A lot of poignant stories and artworks that tackle this topic get comments on 'em whenever Falin is the subject of aging, each one some variation of "Everything points to Falin having an extended lifespan after her revival!" which... Seems weird to me?

I don't know why this bothers me so much, but setting aside my personal annoyances, I don't remember anything pointing to this at all. At least, nothing concrete.

I don't know if this is a question you'd want to answer or not, but since your blog is a hub for all sorts of opinions and headcanons, I'd love to know where this line of thought could originate from.

I really wouldn't blame you if you didn't answer this question, though. Part of me feels I'm just asking this because I want to see if others share in my confusion or not.

Rrrregardless, though! Lemme take the opportunity to say that your blog is delighful. Love it! Also, that mushroom man with the funny face that sometimes responds to you with lengthy essays is also really cool. Everyone is cool. At least here on the northern hemisphere! It is smack dab in the middle of fall, after all! Coolness all around! Stay frosty! Or don't! Maybe warm up at a fireplace. I don't know!

Hi there! Thank you for the kind words, I love reading other's opinions on what I post so I also love the additions by the mushroom <3

It's quite hot over here in northeast Brazil, send some coolness my way please I'm dying.

Your question isn't strange at all! And I don't mind answering anything (unless it's rude or sounds like shipping war bait) so don't worry.

(Decided to put the rest under a readmore, TLDR: Kui said "maybe so, right?" about Falin having a longer lifespan but I have arguments why I don't think this actually confirms it. Anyway if you're someone who likes the headcanon you might want to skip this post)

To be honest those type of comments bother me too because I also LOVE Marcille's struggle with mortality and sometimes "Falin will live much longer!" feels undermining of the lesson she had to learn. I don't mind it in the headcanon sphere where everything is allowed and happy endings grow on trees but when it becomes intertwined with canon it starts to make me a little disappointed.

Just a reminder of the lesson she has to learn

She has to come to terms with the cycle of life and death, that something she wants (everyone to live longer) shouldn't be forced upon others just because it causes her grief. So, to me at least, Falin being made into something that will end up outliving other tallmen would undermine the message? In a canon sense ofc, if you're writing a wish fulfillment story then her living longer would have a different meaning, I just wanna be clear I have nothing against it in that sense, it all depends on what story you're trying to tell.

Anyway, actually answering your question that idea comes from the fact she was fused to a Red Dragon, and the fact her body has been affected by it, her sight was fixed and she grows feathers for example, so people theorize maybe her lifespan has been affected too. But we don't really know how long dragon's live so it's hard to say how much it would have been affected if at all.

It also comes from this answer Kui gave in a QnA

Q: Would Falin have an extended lifespan after the whole chimera thing? A: Maybe so, right?

To me this reads as the usual non-answers Kui gives, like, "I'll leave it up to your imagination" but for other people this read as a confirmation of the headcanon, in another questions she answers "I hope so" about Thistle leading a happy life after having his desires eaten and it's even debatable if Thistle survived at all so I don't think those comments indicate much of canon (I'm that way about most QnA answers tbh, unless it's something inconsequential like confirming Mithrun's Brother's name or stuff about very minor characters)

Another argument I have against her having a different lifespan is Izutsumi, Izu has been mixed with a monster but continues to age at the same rate a Tallmen would, even tho she also has different biology because of the Great Cat she's fused with (ears, reflexes, eyes etc etc) she is still a tallman

Falin isn't really the same thing as Izutsumi tho, I understand, but it's the closest example we have, if we believe the AB descriptions and demi-humans are really mixes between humans and monsters that's also another argument about it not affecting lifespan, since all of them are short lived and have an average lifespan of 55.

All of this *can* be dissmissed tho, the other demi-humans and beastmen are all mixed with mammal monsters and nothing nearly as powerful as a Dragon, so there is arguments to be made that Falin is different and that she *might* have an extended lifespan, all I'm saying is that there's no solid confirmation of it, it's fine to believe it but going around "correcting" other people saying it's a fact wouldn't be right I don't think, especially if you're saying that in a conversation about Marcille journey of death acceptance.

Death is a touchy subject and everyone is at different stages of their own journeys with it so I really don't want to judge those who would rather have Falin or even Laios live longer. I'm not really sure how to talk about this in the proper way, but I hope I didn't make anyone upset!

[fazfuri]

Okay, now that I'm calmer and free from my academic day, I'm back with cleaner, less cluttered language like the mess of letters I made in the chat on all ur platforms Ohh sorry: I'd still be anonymous, but what? Nah, ur AU inspires me more and more every day. Why be? At least it helps me improve my writing.

But anyway, another thing I'd like to address is the possibility that the King (Brutus, yeah, I was right yesterday then. I assumed we'd finally know his name. Yeah, yeah, I'm not disappointed or anything. In fact, I highly doubt any other name fit with him better. You've got it made.) Anyway, he'll eventually come to feel genuine affection for Deity. From the way things are presented on that level (at least from my perspective), even though he's ambitious and has a dark undertone, I'd like to think that what he initially felt for Deity was, in some ways, from a "healthy" place (I put that in quotes bc despite him relaxed and trusting expressions from the first animation, there was always a hint of distrust in her attitude). Unfortunately, being a young and inexperienced god, Deity seemed to quickly assume that such attention was harmless, even adorable.

-"It's said that when you're in love, u try to 'cover the sun with ur finger,' that is, ignore the obvious. And I think that applies very well here: what seemed like an affectionate, perhaps even romantic, relationship ended up turning into something much more complex and possibly damaging."-

I like to imagine that, as their relationship progressed and they eventually became "lovers," the king began to become increasingly possessive. I'm no expert on body language or tactics, but the way he holds it, observes it, and surrounds it conveys many signs of dominance. If we add to this that, as you mentioned at some point, a large part of the kingdom worshipped deity (not shown in the animation, but in ur exclusive content, as u said before Hehe), then it could be that Deity belonged to everyone. Or at least, that's what he was meant to symbolize: an accessible divine entity and protector of the planet/universe. However, having a close and constant relationship with Bru, it was logical that preferential treatment would exist. And perhaps that was what triggered the change: Starshine began to notice that the deity's attention didn't belong exclusively to him, that him presence was valued beyond him, and that could have generated insecurity disguised as jealousy. So—was it really love he felt? Or did his ambition and desire for control confuse him? Perhaps, in the end, what he feared most was losing the god's exclusive favor, especially if the god one day decided to help someone else, another leader… or even someone capable of dethroning him. From this stems my theory regarding the origin of the summoning spell. From my perspective, this curse was cast with two clear objectives: first, to ensure that Bru would benefit directly and constantly from the god's power; and second, to ensure that no one else could access it. I imagine it almost as if the king, in those moments of hell, had said to him:

"You're bound to me. Only to me. You don't exist outside my command, My Lord."

And the most disturbing thing is that Deity, somehow, couldn't refuse. Bc if he did… he would be trapped, chained. Watching certain scenes, I couldn't help but think of everything Starshine could have done to him, even more serious things. And yes, I admit that, at some point, I expected to see scenes of physical abuse (ops) (not bc I approve of them, but because unfortunately, those kinds of dynamics exist in many relationships marked by power, dependency, and manipulation. Please don't get me wrong, I study these topics in my career. I'm a fan of dark stuff, unfortunately). Also, I love angst, and I'm an active follower of ur content, so my mind inevitably goes there. Returning to the main idea, I think the desire for power and possessiveness were the true driving force behind the king's actions. After all, having a beautiful and powerful god at ur side is not only a symbol of power, but a guarantee of victory. A treasure anyone would covet (both for good and for bad). And who, being in his position, wouldn't want to hide that treasure from the rest of the world?

In short, these are just my personal ideas. Take them as headcanon, unless u tell me otherwise! It's enough for me to share my thoughts and enjoy the creative process. Only read it if ur bored, right? (+ yeah,I called the bastard by three terms here. I'm guessing I'll get used to calling him Starshine or King, and probably everyone else, lol.) Just that, and one last question but very important for end:

If ur animatic is 3:21 minutes long for everyone… So Why does it seem like it's 9 hours and 58 minutes long for me? 🤥✍

Holy crap you cooked with this one... I LOVE THE ANALYSIS!!! I really enjoyed reading this ^^ All I can say is that Brutus leaving him in the circle doesn't end there :)

[samoankpoper21]

Random Husband Ushijima Fic

Content Warnings: fat shaming, small smut

Complete opposites. Yin and yang. Where Ushijima was sinewy, muscle, you were fluff and rolls. His skin was tan due to years of playing volleyball, you were born with melanin genetics. He was an early bird while you were a night owl. He was famous for his stoic, quiet, blunt nature while people have told you that they could hear you before they saw you. His face remained stone like while your cheeks pushed upward always smiling and laughing.

On lookers either admired you both as a couple or left scratching their heads at the odd pairing. Aesthetically it was cute since he towered over your plump physique but that still left room for society to whisper he can do better.

While the teams were warming up, he noticed you the moment you walked into one of the Adler's volleyball matches greeting everyone with a warm smile telling them "good morning" even though it was 1PM. He watched as you animatedly talked to the officials letting them know that you were covering for your friend Akira and for the officials to, "please give me an easy job."; settling on you being the water girl. As you walked out to fill up the bottles Ushijima quickly muttered that he needed to use the restroom, his teammates confused at the sudden change. Waiting til you rounded the corner he slowed his breathing and stopped in his tracks when he saw you struggling with the filled bottles and with another man.

"Let go of me Chiyo!"

"I said I'm sorry Y/N. Can't you forgive me?"

"Forgive you? You cheated on me!" you hissed out.

"But she didn't mean anything and besides," Chiyo reached out trying to grab around your waist. "You know I'm the only one that loves you right? I'm the only one that could ever love you."

"I have a boyfriend." you lie.

"Pft!" your ex began laughing holding his stomach. "Please, no man would date a fat girl like you. You're lucky I'm-"

"Is everything okay babe?" Looking up all you saw was tan skin, a firm jawline and olive eyes staring daggers at your poor excuse of an ex. "Yeah I'm fine babe. I was just coming out to fill these water bottles."

"You were taking too long so I thought I'd come and check on you." Ushijima wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer, his invigorating scent enveloping you. "I don't appreciate you talking to my girlfriend in that manner and you're wrong, a lot of men want to date her and I like her." Turning you both around you continued towards the gymnasium when you mutter, "Thanks. You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to." Looking up again you silently gasped when your eyes met his intense gaze. He was staring at you, studying you, the blush you felt creeping up from your neck dusting your cheeks. Clearing your throat you mutter your gratitude slowly prying his fingers from your generous waist not realizing how much he didn't want to let go. He was hooked with how the extra skin spilled slightly past his thick digits, the softness of it in contrast to his rough calloused hands; his teammates in awe that he was capable of interacting so intimately with a woman. He didn't mind the teasing from his teammates, his end goal making you his.

Years of being together Ushijima can't help but feel his heart swell with pride whenever he would catch a glimpse of you, especially when you were in your element being a host to his teammates and their families. To others his face remained stoic but you could see the smallest smirk, ghost of a smile whenever you glanced his way locking eyes with him; Tendou purring and Semi rolled his eyes. Much like you they could read his expressions and could see how over the moon he was for you.

But there were days where your social battery was at an all time low and you had to fake it til you made it, putting on a smile mustering through the team's dinner event squeezing Ushijima's hand, him squeezing tighter serving as your anchor. He would reward you by enveloping you in his strong arms, warm embrace, pulling you closer to his chest you falling asleep to the steady beat of his heart, the last thing you remember before dozing off is his cologne wafting through your nose; or he would slowly thrust his thick, long cock into your sopping wet pussy cradling your head whispering praises into your ear. "You did so good today." "I'm proud of you."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

A/N: I know I've always put the note above the story but I didn't want to ruin the story if that makes sense 🤣anyway I've been stuck on a Haikyuu! phase (again) revisiting old clips and just reading amazing stories with the characters^^ need to start a new anime lolol Enjoy~!!

©ALL WORKS BELONG TO SAMOANKPOPER21; ANY INFRINGEMENT OR PLAGIARISM WILL BE REPORTED!! DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST MY WORK!!