#and like there's this thing called mandatory reporting...

[spaghett-onaplate]

I don't think I get like triggered by things really but maybe it happened today?? in my most annoying class with my most annoying teacher we've been going over the same domestic violence worksheet for like two weeks and the room was really hot and stuffy and I suddenly felt so so queasy. then straight after in English we also brushed over that 😭 but in a more valuable and speculative manner at least. like in the first class we were talking about statistics and how young men view it/perpetuate it and she suggested linking it to our own experiences?? err no?

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

SOMEONE TO STAY

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: when rafe’s girlfriend doesn’t show up to his safe house during a hurricane he fears the worst, and wonders if he’ll get to tell her that he loves her.

based on this ask !! i hope this is what you wanted anon :) i wasn’t sure if you meant pogue!reader or actually meant pogue!rafe so i kept this open as to not interpret it incorrectly !!

A/N: my drew starkey & characters masterlist is here !!

WARNINGS: cursing, hurricane, fear of loved ones dying, crying, panic attack, arguments, angsty love confession, angst to fluff !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SECOND PERSON +

The storm came fast and without mercy. What had started as a mild tropical storm rapidly intensified into a Category 4 hurricane barrelling toward the Outer Banks. Mandatory evacuation orders were issued for the Pogues and parts of the Cut, but for the Kooks in Figure Eight, the luxury of reinforced homes and private shelters meant hunkering down. The air felt thick with panic and pressure as everyone prepared for the worst.

Rafe had been at his father's old office on the more secure side of the island, trying to sort out some financial mess left behind by Ward, when the weather reports turned grim. His phone buzzed incessantly with texts and calls from people checking in or offering refuge. But Rafe didn't care about any of them.

He cared about one person.

"Y/N, just listen to me for once!" Rafe snapped, pacing the office as the storm began to howl outside. His voice was sharp, desperate even, as he tried to reason with his girlfriend. "Don't try to be a hero. Don't stop for anything. Just get in your car and come straight to the safe house. I'll meet you there."

"Rafe, I'll be fine," you said over the phone, your voice calm but firm. "I'm already on my way."

"You're sure? I can come get you. I should come get you," he pressed, running a hand through his hair. "This storm's getting worse by the second. I don't want you driving in this."

"I've got it under control," you reassured him, a smile in your tone even though he couldn't see it. "I'll see you soon."

But the second the line went dead, unease settled deep in Rafe's chest. He tried to tell himself you were capable, smart, and resourceful—qualities he loved about you. Still, that didn't stop the gnawing anxiety that clawed at him as he headed toward the safe house.

—

The drive was hellish. Rain lashed against your windshield, the wipers barely able to keep up. Floodwaters licked at the sides of the road as you maneuvered carefully toward Figure Eight. It wasn't long before you lost signal entirely, your phone cutting off mid-text to Rafe. You cursed under your breath but pressed on.

You'd been almost to the safe house when a thought struck you like lightning. Earlier that week, Rafe had been pouring over some old financial records and papers that he needed for his next move with the family business. He'd spent hours meticulously going through them, and you knew they were stored in his father's house.

Your chest tightened. If the storm destroyed everything, Rafe would lose all that work. Against better judgment, you turned onto the road leading to Tannyhill. You told yourself it wouldn't take long—just in and out.

By the time you made it to the safe house, it was well past dark, and the storm had intensified. The wind howled like a living thing, rattling the reinforced windows and slamming against the door as you stumbled in, soaked to the bone.

"Rafe?" you called, setting the plastic bag containing the saved papers down on a table. "I'm here."

It took less than ten seconds for him to appear. His hair was disheveled, his clothes wrinkled from hours of pacing. The moment his eyes landed on you, relief flickered across his face—but it was quickly replaced by something far darker.

"Where the hell have you been?" he shouted, storming toward you. His voice was a mix of anger and panic, his chest heaving as he stopped in front of you. "I've been calling you for hours! Do you have any idea—" His voice broke, and he ran a hand down his face. "I thought something happened to you."

"Rafe, I'm fine," you said, trying to placate him. "I—"

"You're not fine!" he snapped, his voice rising again. "You think this is fine? Driving through a hurricane, ignoring my calls—what were you even doing?" His eyes darted to the bag on the table, and something clicked. "You stopped for papers?"

"Rafe, I know how important they are to you—"

"Papers?" he interrupted, his voice incredulous. "You risked your life for some stupid papers?"

"They're not stupid!" you fired back, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. "You've been working so hard on this, and I didn't want you to lose it all."

"I don't care about the damn papers!" he yelled, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. "Don't you get it? I don't care about any of that fucking shit if it means losing you!"

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off, his breathing growing erratic. His hands trembled as he backed away, pressing his palms to his temples. "I can't—God, I can't do this," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought you were dead, Y/N. I thought I lost you out there.”

"Rafe—"

"You're all I have," he said, his voice breaking completely as tears streamed down his face. "You're all I have, and I can't lose you. I won't survive it."

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the raw vulnerability in his voice leaving you momentarily stunned. You stepped toward him cautiously, reaching out to touch his arm. "Rafe, I'm here. I'm okay," you said softly. "I'm right here."

But he didn't seem to hear you, his breathing growing more rapid as he sank onto the couch. His chest heaved, and his hands gripped the edge of the cushion like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

You knelt in front of him, your heart aching at the sight of him falling apart. "Rafe, look at me," you said firmly, taking his hands in yours. They were cold and clammy, shaking like leaves in the storm outside. "Breathe with me, okay? Just breathe."

He tried to match your breaths, but his body refused to cooperate. Desperation clawed at him, his gaze wild and unfocused. "I can't—I can't—"

"Yes, you can," you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. You guided one of his hands to your chest, pressing his palm flat against your heartbeat. "Feel that? I'm still breathing. I'm still alive. I'm here, Rafe."

Something shifted in his eyes as he focused on the steady rhythm beneath his hand. He gripped your shirt like a lifeline, his breathing slowly evening out. "You're here," he repeated, his voice barely audible. "You're here."

"That's right," you said, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The storm raged on outside, but inside, the only sound was the quiet rise and fall of your breaths. Finally, Rafe pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it almost hurt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into your hair. "I'm sorry for yelling. I was just so scared."

"I know," you said, your voice muffled against his chest. "I'm sorry, too. I should've just come straight here."

He pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his blue eyes searching yours. "I don't say this enough—or at all—but you mean everything to me, Y/N. I don't know what I'd do without you. You’re my whole world. Not work, not money, not anything; you. I love you, so fucking much.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time, they were from something far warmer than fear. "I love you, too," you said, leaning into his touch.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms as the storm began to lose its fury. Whatever chaos the hurricane had brought, it couldn't touch the calm you found in each other.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

i hope this is what you wanted anon !! this was such a cute one to write and i love me some angst to fluff😫

pls request some more angst guys !! i absolutely LOVE writing it :) and as always, likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[clairewritesfanfics]

No Goggles!Mark Grayson Origin Part 2

Pairing: No Goggles!Invincible x Older!Reader

Part 1

The past three months were unbearable. Your daily life has been so intimately intertwined with Mark’s that even one day apart was difficult to comprehend. 

To be frank, when you met him three years ago, you didn’t think your relationship would last for so long.

It was two in the morning, and your very first day as a clerk was as hellish as expected. You couldn’t answer any of the questions your resident asked you, you were cursed with several horrible patients, your seniors were assholes who ordered you to go fetch them coffee but then refused to pay, and one of the attendings kept giving you weird looks all day. After your shift was over, you opted to climb up the roof. 

The sky was really pretty. You couldn’t remember the last time you looked at the stars.

You shut your eyes and inhaled the crisp air.

“You’re not going to jump, are you?”

If you weren’t so exhausted you would’ve screamed at the unexpected visitor.

Leaning over the rooftop’s protective parapet was the city’s second favorite hero, Invincible. 

“If I did, will you save me?”

“I kinda have to, ‘cause y’know–” he gestured over his uniform.

Judging from his physique and speech, he was likely in his early twenties.

“Right.” You looked back at the sky. 

“You do realize I can’t just leave a flight risk.”

You chuckled. “I wasn’t going to jump. I just needed some fresh air.”

“That’s what a lot of jumpers say.”

“Really?”

“Well, maybe not a lot, I don’t have the exact numbers, but judging from experience, a lot of… at risk people like to make excuses and say they’re fine.”

“Mm.”

He quieted down and turned to the stars. “There was a meteor shower a few hours ago.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It was okay for a meteor shower. I’d give it a five out of ten.”

“Is that so.”

“Yup, it was barely anything–”

“Hey,” you interrupted him, smiling softly. “I really did come up for air.”

He was silent for a moment. He put his hands behind his back and awkwardly said, “That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“Right.” 

He coughed and you could faintly see his cheeks turn pink under the moonlight.

“I guess I shouldn’t disturb a doctor during their break. Thanks for your service, er, no wait… that doesn’t sound right. Um… bye.” He looked just about ready to explode.

“Hey.”

“Y-yeah?” He seemed super reluctant to look you in the eye.

“Thanks,” you said.

He finally glanced over his shoulder and beamed.

When he left you looked at the stars one more time before taking a deep breath and going home for some much needed rest.

Patients are always told to get six hours of sleep at least, with the best being eight, but medical students and doctors are the worst at taking their own advice.

You couldn’t afford to sleep for more than four hours, and even then those few hours were already a luxury. You had to study, meet with patients and deal with their families, study, write the mandatory research papers, fill in the paperwork, study, receive lab reports, speak with consultants and residents, and study.

“Fresh air?” Invincible appeared again from behind the roof railings, floating like a ghost in yellow and blue. 

“Yeah. Plus I’m making it a habit to appreciate the little things more.”

“You sound like my mom.”

“Are you calling me old?”

He raises his hands placatingly. “No, I’m saying it’s good. Mom used to tell me to always appreciate everything, even the small moments. It’s one of the few things I remember about her.” He paused. “She died when I was eight.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh, thanks, I didn’t mean to make it weird. I don’t know why I said that, actually.”

“Sounds like she was a great woman.”

“Dad thought so–I mean, yeah, she was.” 

You chuckled. “Shouldn’t you be patrolling the streets or something?”

“I was actually on my way home. My da–Omni-Man’s got everything covered.”

“That’s good.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “A-anyway, I gotta go now. You take care.”

“Mm. Oh, by the way, kid.”

“Huh?”

You smiled. “Thank you for your service.”

He seemed to freeze in mid-air. His ears turned red and he quickly babbled something incoherent before flying away at breakneck speed.

You burst out laughing.

You really needed that.

You had just found out that a patient you really liked, a feisty and vibrant old lady who wouldn’t be out of place in an episode of the Golden Girls, passed away. She was no spring chicken, but she had a healthy heart and the only reason she was at the hospital was because she broke her leg during a jog. She was an avid jogger, a great cook and had just taken up gardening. No history of any cardiovascular diseases, or hypertension, or even arthritis. She was healthy, for all intents and purposes, and had maybe five more years.

Then she just died.

All those years of ruthless studying could have never prepared you for the heartbreak of seeing someone die.

After witnessing a resident announce her time of death, you had to run up here to breathe. You almost thought of quitting.

But you felt much better now.

You met Invincible on a near nightly basis. He talked a lot, and sometimes not on purpose. He seemed uncomfortable with silence, resulting in slip-ups like his age and birth month, his love for Seance Dog, and his dislike of his peers, to name a few.

“I’ve never been close to anyone,” he confessed, sitting cross-legged on the rooftop floor right next to you. “In fact, I used to be outright bullied. I broke a girl’s nose and another boy’s arm.”

“Why?”

“I don’t remember. It was probably because of something stupid. Dad was super mad when he came to pick me up. He said I should learn to fit in better.”

“Did you?”

He shrugged. “After I transferred schools I learned how to be more well-liked. I smiled more, talked to everyone, and I mean, everyone. I stopped fights and did my best to impress my teachers. I became super popular, even when I got to college.”

“Not to mention super humble.”

He laughed and hunched forward, eyes glazed over. “But you know, looking back at it now, I didn’t actually have anyone I could call my friend. Everyone loved me but no one was ever mine.”

He then flinched and swayed his face towards you, brown eyes bulging. 

You raised your arms in the air. “Sorry, I…” You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry for touching your head, you looked like you wanted someone to comfort.”

“No, I was just…surprised.” He then leaned forward, offering his head. “Can you do that again?”

You hesitated a bit, but ultimately did as he requested.

You gently ran your fingers through his hair and lightly scratched his scalp. “Good?”

“Mm.”

You giggled. “Good.”

Headpats became a sort of ritual between the two of you. It was nice. Until one night, he didn’t show. 

No big deal–should’ve been what you thought when you realized that daw was close and there was not a glimpse of that familiar yellow and blue suit.

To be honest, you liked the nightly rendezvous with him. In fact, you might’ve developed a small crush on him. 

But he was a young guy, a superhero to boot, so he probably got bored. 

You were no different in the past. You would get super interested in one thing for a few weeks then move on to the newest hyperfixation. 

You understood. Still, you couldn’t help but be disappointed as you dragged your legs towards the house you rented three blocks from the hospital. A short walk, but a woman walking alone in the city at 3:49 a.m. could never be too careful, that’s why you started running the moment you felt like you were being watched.

When you tripped on a crack on the sidewalk, you swung your bag–heavy with all your study materials and medical equipment–to stop the body rushing towards you.

“Hey, wait, wait! It’s me!”

You stopped. 

Your “attacker” was none other than Invincible. His clothes were torn and soaked with blood. He reeked of death. Fortunately, you’ve grown accustomed to it. 

“You scared me.” You said calmly, pulling your bag back. Using it as an improvised weapon ripped up one of its zippers though, causing some of your stuff to spill.

“I figured. Sorry about that.” He knelt down, picking up stray pens, a hand sanitizer, a compact powder and a handful of candies. He raised to his feet and gently put the things inside the main compartment. “I didn’t mean to scare you. When I got to the roof you weren’t there, so I figured you might’ve gone home, but I got worried and decided to fly over but then I saw you here and well, you know the rest,” he explained rapidly, hands waving all over cartoonishly.

You reached for his chin, the touch shutting him up instantly. You examined his face. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you injured. I didn’t think it was even possible for you to get hurt considering…”

“It’s usually hard to hurt me actually. I had to fight off a couple of exceptionally strong bad guys today.”

“I see. All right.” You pulled back.

“Are you mad?”

“Why would I be? You’re the one who looks like hell.”

“Ouch. Now that hurt.”

“Follow me.”

“Huh?”

“I have a first aid kit at my house, though if you prefer the hospital–”

“No! I mean, your house is closer so we should go there.” He then offered his hand.

You stared at it, then you cocked a brow at him.

He grinned sheepishly. “Your bag looks heavy.”

“Ah. Thanks.” You gave it to him, your own shoulders thanking you. “I’m sorry for hitting you.”

“It’s okay, I’m glad you can defend yourself.” He started walking. “The way to your place is really dark, you know, the streets could really use some more lamps.”

He talked a lot for a man with cut lips, not that you minded. 

“Oh.” He stopped in front of an old house with peeling paint. “We’re here.”

“You can set my bag down in the living room. Take a seat.” You opened the door and motioned for him to come inside. “I don’t have any housemates so you don’t have to worry.” This rundown house was cheaper than the apartments near the hospital. 

You went to get the first aid kit and rejoined your visitor on the couch. “This may sting.” You prepared to clean his wounds.

“Thanks for your help.”

“It’s no problem.”

You both fell into a rare silence. You could hardly focus with his eyes on you. 

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” you spoke, bandaging his arm, “Have you always been following me home?”

His muscles stiffened. “What?” 

“You knew the way to my house.” Tonight wasn’t the first time you felt like you were being watched either.

“That… um…” 

You looked at him. He flinched and quickly bowed his head.

“I’m sorry. I swear it’s nothing creepy! I just wanted to make sure you were safe. You told me you walked home and your shift always ends right before dawn.”

“Then why didn’t you just talk to me?”

“I…I don’t know. I didn’t want to insult you.”

You laughed.

“Y-you’re not mad?”

“Nah. I mean, it would’ve been better if you just asked me that you wanted to walk me home, would’ve saved years of my life. I swear I thought I was going crazy, I thought maybe I was being stalked the past few weeks. But I can understand why you didn’t.” He may have learned how to charm his schoolmates and teachers but deep inside, he was an awkward guy. “Thanks for looking after me.”

He seemed taken aback as he didn’t say anything while you finished. 

“I cleaned up the wounds on your face the best I could, but there’s not much I can do because of the mask. I’ll get you some ice.”

You stood up but he tugged on your scrubs. “Aren’t you curious?”

“Honestly?”

He nodded.

“No.”

He looked utterly heartbroken. “Most people would’ve asked me to take me off.”

“Don’t look so offended. It’s just that… well, it sounds like a pain.”

“You’re not good at comforting me right now.”

“I think what we have right now is fine.” In a way, not knowing each other truly meant there were less expectations and few disappointments. That’s right. It was fine. This was fine.

“You want us to stay as strangers?”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, and he didn’t give you any time to think, because he quickly added, “Because I don’t. I like you and I don’t just want to be Invincible to you.”

Oh. 

“One date. Just one date and if you still think we can’t work out we can just pretend that nothing happened. We’ll go back to being perpetual strangers,” he offered, almost desperate.

You blinked. “Okay.”

“Seriously?”

You nodded. “One date and we’ll see how it goes.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. I should warn you though, I don’t always have control over my own schedule and when I’m free I’m usually studying or asleep, so be prepared for any rescheduling conflicts.”

“Wow… I can’t believe you actually agreed. Shit–I-I mean, uh, sorry.”

You smiled. 

“I should probably show you my face.”

“Well, you don’t have to do it right now–”

He pulled off his mask, revealing a handsome face. Of course. 

“Call me Mark.”

Mark.

He was always so sweet and understanding. You “warned” him about your job’s demands and you were prepared for his, but he never complained and it was always you who had to reschedule. It got so ridiculous that your “first date” was eating takeout at your place while watching Seance Dog’s movie adaptation. You felt guilty but Mark looked happy enough. In fact, he learned to cook so you could eat together in your rented house, and eventually, in your apartment, and then, in the condo he surprised you with. 

As beautiful as that unit was, it was too big now that Mark was gone. 

You wondered if he finally got tired of you after months apart. When he decides to break things off for real, you’ll give him back the condo. It didn’t feel right to be living in the place he bought you.

“You’ve been sighing a lot lately.” It was one of your co-workers. He was a new hire, and a friendly enough guy, but you weren’t close. “Everything all right?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you said curtly. You paused and sighed again. “Sorry.”

He chuckled. “I get it, things are tough. Haven’t been seeing your little boy toy lately. Did you guys break up? He did seem a tad bit immature.”

Asshole.

You finished the rest of your coffee and threw the can in the trash. “I gotta go.”

“If you wanna drown your sorrows, we’re gonna grab a drink later.”

Another doctor arrived and interrupted him, “It’s pointless to ask. She never goes anywhere unless it’s mandatory.”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s true.” You nodded. “I don’t drink that much in the first place.”

“Then you can order something else–”

“I told you, it’s pointless. I’ve been asking her to join me for a girls’ night out for what, a year now? This one is a strict professional who keeps business and pleasure separate, unlike you.” 

“That’s a bit boring–”

“Anyway, take care on your way home,” she cut him off.

Your savior. “Thanks.”

And with that you packed up and prepared to go home. 

Today was the deadline but Mark hasn’t sent you a single text. Maybe he was pissed and decided to ghost you.

…nah. Mark wasn’t like that.

He’d break up with you properly. 

But since this was your idea, you should be the one to reach out to him first.

You stared at his name on your phone. 

This ends tonight.

Part 3

[weirdmageddon]

the shift in lore literacy in homestuck’s fandom

i was thinking about how the people who got into homestuck after it ended—whose interactions with the comic are in a static, archived state, not an ongoing thing—missed out on information that was more common knowledge in the fandom at that time. i don’t know if this is true since i’m not on tiktok, but i wouldn’t be surprised if it was. the fandom certainly isn’t the same as it was before.

ive found that many people reading homestuck now simply do not understand things in homestuck that were common knowledge back in the day, with calls for “homestuck literacy classes to become mandatory” in response to baffling takes because so many people just now seem to have glazed over the comic without absorbing important plot points, and i think i know why this may be. i ended up writing a post reflecting on my time with the comic, my perspective and how ive seen this change. i still think and write about homestuck because it still fascinates me. earlier i quote retweeted that call in my thread talking about the temporal relativity of dave and rose’s god tier ascension in the green sun, saying “my homestuck literacy is 100% so guess im doing my part as a teacher by pointing out whatever i think is really cool about it”. this post im writing now started out as a reply to this tweet i got in response.

i joined the fandom in 2013. i was 11. i had been aware of it since at least late 2011, early 2012 when my friend ryan in fifth grade told me to read it but i couldn’t get past the first few pages. i remember writing a journal on deviantart around this time (late 2011-early 2012) that was mocking people who typed like gamzee, which ironically was very karkat of me. and i remember someone on flipnote hatena i was following was making flipnotes with the alpha kids.

i dont know what caused me to flip the switch into reading it but 2013. i got into it somewhere between april (i think closer to april—i remember it being quite a span of time between the last update before HOMOSUCK dropped.) this was the most recent page the comic, meaning there was no > [S] ACT 6 ACT 6 at the bottom.

i got into it during a pause in updates, which looking into it, was the year 4 megapause. i wasn’t sure of the month until seeing the news post detailing the reason for the hiatus and the status report of the comic’s development at that time. pretty cool i could narrow it down by referencing the dates of those updates and the news post to correspond with the pause!

according to readmspa, the year 4 megapause was a 59 day hiatus from Apr 14, 2013 ==> (EOA6A5) running to 12 Jun 2013, [S] ACT 6 ACT 6. then for a few months there were the first updates that i was apart of the fandom for.

and what an exciting time during the story get into the webcomic! when the updates resumed in june, part 4 of homestuck had begun. here was a glimpse of the updates in that span of time before the next hiatus began in october.

that hiatus was none other than the gigapause, the longest hiatus in the comic, which started october 2013 and lasted for a YEAR, and i already posted about what happened on the date of return.

but here were the main events happening in the story at the time i first actually got interested in it. i wasn’t aware of the full context of them then like i am now, but i was looking at the most recent updates anyway with interest:

the alpha kids just emerged as god tiers from their slabs in derse and prospit, blown up by the condesce and caliborn / lil cal-possessed b2 jack noir.

the journey to the new session started 24 hours after jack called an early reckoning in descend—for context that was about when dave entered around midnight central time and before jade even entered. it’s pretty easy to forget that side 1 of homestuck basically happens within the span of a single day—and at this point in the story, the 3 year journey (which was also 3 real life years) had just ended. john and jade emerged from the other side of the yellow yard through the fenestrated plane on LOMAX. john’s real body was asleep upon arrival in the new session, while his dreaming projection out in the dream bubbles came across vriska’s ghost ship to learn lord english lore with vriska and aranea, and go on the treasure hunt where they found the ultimate weapon at the X mark out in in the furthest ring. in the dream john stuck his hand in the juju, started warping all over canon which removed his real body from the ship on LOMAX. he zapped around for a while but eventually zapped back to LOMAX, now awake, completely out of the loop of what everyone else is up to, and bored as fuck. what was everyone else getting up to while john was asleep?

jade was now once again within the domain of the green sun. im pretty sure her space god doggy essence comes with the power to sense what was anywhere within the domain of the session since her face looks like she arrived at that spot with intent (and she literally has jack noir’s exact powers from bec’s prototyping. also this panel). she immediately dispatched b2 jack to the edge of the incinisphere, defending the newly god-tiered jane and jake. i think even if they weren’t in any danger, she would have warped to them instantly anyway because she COULD now, and i can imagine she wouldve been sooooo eager to meet everyone. even davesprite comments about her rapid departure.

the pre-scratch refugees arrived during the only time serious shit ever went down in the nobles’ months-long inert void session. the condesce used her freak psychic bronze-cerulean powers to commune with jade’s bestial side and mind controlled her, which is super dangerous as someone with the powers of a first guardian. she then used jade’s powers to corrupt jane with the tiaratop. no funtime meetup allowed!

the trolls’ meteor with rose, dave, and the remaining trolls was pulling up into the new session with no way to slow it down. grimbark jade warped there once it was in the incinisphere and took active control. she warped everyone off the trolls’ meteor and sent them to LOMAX.

as john was losing his mind on LOMAX waiting for everyone, the meteor crew warped in. after 3 years he finally reunited with rose and dave, and at least saw the trolls in person. close curtains, end of A6A5. this was the newest [S] flash page at the time, one of my first impressions of this comic, and still one of my favorite flashes. knowing the context of the flash in the story only enhances the retrospective joy i have at getting into the comic at the time i did because it’s such an anticipated moment in the story for everyone, while for someone with no context of the story it was still enjoyable.

so that’s what was going on plotwise when i joined the fandom.

from this time, through those few months of updates and through the gigapause, i was familarizing myself with the characters in the story and overseeing the state of fanbase, getting myself acquainted with the story and wrapping my head around everything.

at that time i found that a new-ish group called colab HQ who were producing a let’s read homestuck series on youtube. hearing the voices and the pacing of it like that really, really eased me into it (maybe it was my adhd that gave me trouble actually starting it?). i caught up to a certain point using lets read homestuck and from that point was able to continue with the comic on my own, and by the time the gigapause came to a close i was fully caught up. i remember the rebranding of colab hq into voxus about a year and a half after i discovered them.

but.. back to the main point of my post. even these posts from hussie’s tumblr exist in archived states. how many new fans know about hussie’s old tumblr? i don’t know, unless theyre a new fan that must scour the internet for more deep more dives on homestuck and its fandom as a whole. but since hussie deleted his tumblr (it exists archived now on homestuck.net which, alongside from the unofficial homestuck collection, has nearly singlehandedly kept the most important relics of the fandom and lore archived), that page is not an active part of the fandom now, because it’s gone. it’s a pile of bones. it’s not living and breathing. it’s in an archived state. the whole thing is already there. homestuck and its fandom history is something you now binge instead of slowly consume and meld with as it comes out. it’s now this rapid information intake that you might forget about if you read it now instead of engaged alongside it. you’re not surrounded by people actively talking and theorizing about developments anymore. the ability to have those sorts of conversations during the ongoing development of the story reinforced concepts, ideas, and lore over and over as we tried to make sense of it.

being in a fandom when the author is still delivering the story is like nothing else. it allows you grow alongside the characters and engage meaningfully with the media and people in the fandom space around you. it feels like you’re participating IN the media itself, especially if you’re interfacing with the creator. it’s in always having something to theorize or talk about and speculate. and people become very aware of these sorts of forgotten story facts because they were applying the logic of the newest official post from hussie into making their sburb ocs or something and share resources and discussion posts about “what just happened in this update?? recap????” it was this cultural osmosis thing. i think this is why homestuck literacy is now at an all time low, at least from what i can see on twitter.

reading homestuck then vs now is like the difference between serialized shows with spaces between episodes to discuss stuff and time to reflect and learn and become attached to the story, narrative, worldbuilding and its characters, vs the netflix model where it’s all dropped all at once and people forget about it after binging.

at this point in time im getting the sense that “homestuck elders” now are no longer just people who were there since 2009-2010, but now also people who were there while it was still updating, probably stretching into 2014-2015. there are many sources of lore that were common knowledge in the fandom at the time that, since becoming susceptible to the deletion of content and link rot, and with the thanosing of mspaforums, are no longer accessible at the source. and a lot of people moved on after it ended, especially following the epilogues, the kate drama, and the whatpumpkin-sarah z drama, leaving a void of information behind if not for archivists and people such as me who continue to keep old facts relevant in discussions. my friend has called me a fandom scholar before and seeing this post i think i get what they mean.

EDIT: there is a series of video essays ive watched multiple times (because theyre that good) and they are exactly what modern fans need to see more of. they really help contextualize the comic and the themes present in it help you appreciate the basic fabric of homestuck a hell of a lot more. i highly recommend them and encourage any fan of homestuck to watch them, or someone considering getting into homestuck to watch the first one.

i think this is arguably as close to the “mandatory literacy class for homestuck” that person was talking about as you can get, especially the first video.

additionally, there is also the website https://rafe.name/homestuck which is essentially a sparknotes for homestuck and can help you follow developments in the comic itself.

[andypantsx3]

READY OR KNOT | 1 | TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you... TAGS/WARNINGS: pro hero au, fem + afab reader, omegaverse, alpha shouto, beta reader, misunderstandings, courting behavior, slightly case fic-y, undertones of sexual violence (not between main pairing), aged-up characters, eventual smut, 18+ minors please dni! LENGTH: 4.6k, 1st of 7 chapters

Tetsutetsu’s apartment was exploding with people by the time you made it in from the cold.

Even from outside, you could hear the chatter of dozens of voices, the thumping bass of a distant party playlist. The front door was practically wedged shut by all the bodies blocking it, and you had to suck in a breath as you squeezed yourself through, slithering through what seemed to be every single employee of the Pink Riot agency—a plethora of bulky pro heroes stuffed in among lanky support techs and sleepy-eyed case analysts.

Inside, it stank of warm beer with a slightly sweeter, sharper liquor undertone. Your nose wrinkled. You could only imagine what the scent was like to your alpha and omega coworkers, grateful you had a beta’s dulled sense of smell, and no innate reaction to the physical proximity of other secondary genders. The space was already almost overwhelming as it was, the press of people nearly claustrophobic, although no one else looked like they minded much.

You shoved yourself through the crowd, squeezing through people, somewhat regretting how late you’d gotten here. You hoped there was still something good to drink.

In your defense, you’d gotten bogged down with a bombshell of a new case at the agency, something Mina had pulled you aside to talk about on your way out to the party. She’d meant for you to pick it up Monday, as you couldn’t take any action until a supervising hero had been assigned to you. But it was so unlike any other case you’d been handed in your years at Pink Riot that you’d immediately yanked your coat back off and holed yourself up at your desk, poring over the information in shock.

The case file told you that there was a rogue pro hero harassing and assaulting the omegas in Bunkyo ward—the very ward the Pink Riot agency operated in.

What was more, local authorities suspected someone from the agencies within Bunkyo itself, considering the attacks were exclusively confined to the ward and had so far never deviated. The police had been alerted to the fact that a hero might be involved when one of the omegas who had been attacked last night had escaped, shaken but untouched, and reported their aggressor attempting to strap quirk suppressors on them—tech that was almost exclusively a tool of the heroics trade.

And so all Bunkyo-based agencies had been asked to internally investigate their heroes, with mandatory out-of-agency supervising heroes to be assigned to the cases as well, to ensure everything was above board and no cover ups were being staged. And you, as Mina’s personal friend and therefore the case analyst she trusted most with a sensitive file like this, had been assigned the task.

And it was already almost too mind-boggling for you to bear.

You plowed your way towards the kitchen, eager to chase away the idea of any of your hero coworkers as the perpetrator. You liked and trusted all of the heroes Pink Riot had on call, and hoped so desperately that another agency was at fault here. You couldn’t imagine a single one of them being responsible for something like this. You couldn’t imagine the harasser themself attending this very party.

Once in the kitchen, you discovered that Tetsutetsu had invited more than just the Pink Riot agency itself—he had also apparently invited a plethora of heroes from his former UA days. Sero Hanta and Uraraka Ochako were propped up in the kitchen with Mina and Kirishima, smiling and chatting, while Iida Tenya stood next to them, looking, as usual, like he was on the verge of a hernia. Monoma Neita was skulking in a corner, along with a couple of lower-level heroes you recognized as Tetsu’s Class B friends.

Mina perked up immediately when she caught sight of you, hopping off the counter at Kirishima’s side, beckoning you closer with a hot pink nail.

“You have to taste this disgusting thing Tetsu made,” she told you gleefully, gesturing at something vaguely gelatinous on the stove. You recoiled reflexively, even as Mina ladled a generous portion into a plastic cup for you, passing it over.

You did not like the weight of it in your hand—and the smell of it, even to your duller senses, was not exactly appetizing, more nail polish remover in profile than anything.

“Wow, this looks almost as lovely as the new case file. How generous of you,” you intoned, taking a small, investigative sip. The taste zipped down your spine all the way to your toes, so alcoholic you could almost taste an emergency room visit.

But it figured. Pro heroes in general were a hard bunch to get drunk, their metabolisms fast and their bodies honed to withstand limits a normal person could never. You imagined this was Tetsu’s own invention based on years of personal research.

Mina sloshed her own cup at you, bright-eyed as she normally was, but otherwise looking unruffled. “Tetsu and Eiji already have a bet going which of them can put back more of this, but my bet is on me,” she grinned. “They’re behind a cup already.”

You winced. “Such responsible agency heads I have.”

Mina practically cackled. “You love it.”

You couldn’t help the fond smile that pulled at your mouth, listening to her bright laughter. “I do.”

And it was true, after years at the Pink Riot agency you were spoiled for anywhere else.

Your caseload was broad and interesting, Mina and Kirishima the perfect amount of invested but trusting, always caring about the results you brought in for the safety they brought Bunkyo ward, but never micromanaging you or demanding the impossible. The agency was a little bit smaller than other agencies founded by members of their former class—a mid-sized, fairly-closely knit operation that prioritized action and minimized bureaucracy.

And it was a sort of family operation. Mina was an omega, small and bright and totally beautiful the way so many omegas were, the warmness of her personality like a magnet. And Kirishima was her bonded alpha—fairly friendly and easy-going for one, you thought—but strong, firm in his resolve, and deeply committed.

You liked them, liked their relationship, and liked how their traits translated to their management of their joint agency. You liked how the agency had basically sprung up around them, filled to the brim with good people. And so yeah, Mina was right. You did love it.

“Make sure you unwind,” Mina ordered you, flashing a pink nail in your face. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that it’s been like two hours since I saw you disappear with that case file.”

Your cheeks heated. “Did you know some agency heads like it when their employees do their jobs?”

Mina grinned wickedly, then made a sort of clucking noise. “Did you know that some agency heads are no funsies? I like when my employees do their jobs and still have time for a social life.”

A smile tugged at your mouth. Your social calendar had never been so full as when you started working at Pink Riot, their rosters absolutely packed with outgoing heroes. Someone or other was always throwing a party, organizing a celebratory dinner when an especially big case was closed, or dashing across the floor yelling “drinks on me!” after nailing a particularly notorious villain.

Between the agency and your own friends you thought you were kept rather busy. But the sudden, shifting look of undue interest on Mina’s face told you she thought otherwise.

“When was the last time you went on a date, hmm?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows. “I never catch you smelling like anyone. Looking for anyone here?”

“And who told you you could smell me?” you demanded.

Mina cackled. “It’s not like I can turn my nose off. Plus you smell nice and comforting. Very beta. I wouldn’t stop smelling you even if I could.”

Your ears went hot. Alphas and omegas were always so nosy and inquisitive, a byproduct of being able to smell way too much for your comfort, a fact you and your circle of beta friends never missed a chance to bemoan.

And this was not the first time you’d been told as much, most betas apparently smelling some level of chill and less intrusive than the insistent scents of alphas and omegas. You didn’t exactly understand how something could smell chill, but enough people had said it that you accepted it.

“Well then it’s good I’m not polluting that with other smells,” you said. “Now mind your business.”

Mina’s grin was sharp as she reached over to ladle more of Tetsu’s concoction into your cup, a small revenge. “Fine but keep your options open tonight! I know plenty of nice beta boys I can set you up with—there’s a couple of analysts from Ingenium’s crowd here tonight.”

You nodded, affecting sincerity, although you had absolutely no plan to follow through. You were going to find your agency friends, go ham on some apps, and then head back home just as soon as Mina and Kirishima ended the night the way they usually did—locked mouth to mouth after drinking a little too much, causing a scene.

You waved Mina away, poking your head back out the kitchen door and surveying the rest of the party. Over near the couch, you caught a flash of a couple of your fellow case analysts in conversation with Asui Tsuyu, a beta hero at your agency who you got on well with. Your people exactly.

However, no sooner had you started to push back into the crowd than something slammed into your shoulder, sending you stumbling back into the wall. Your drink splashed right up over your shoulder, cold and biting. You let out a strangled noise, turning your head on impulse and catching a mouthful of hair.

“Oh my god, I am sooo sorry,” a soft voice said. You realized you’d collided with an omega analyst from another Bunkyo agency—a girl you vaguely remembered from a joint case a few years ago. She was small, petite, and delicately pretty in the way of most omegas. And she had also managed to empty nearly the entirety of your cup onto you.

“Shit, shit—I got your shirt wet!” she said, yanking herself back from you. She looked a little glassy-eyed, but genuinely apologetic, and she wiped at your shoulder with her bare hand. Definitely a bit drunk.

“No—it’s fine,” you told her, attempting to duck her hand. “I also didn’t see you!”

The omega girl didn’t look reassured however. She frowned, pausing over you—then suddenly slithered right out of her cardigan, throwing it over your shoulders.

“We’ll hide it like that. Please take it,” she said, her delicate fingers flitting back and forth over your now-covered shoulder, like she still itched to fix something. The cardigan was soft and warm, and even you could tell it smelled good—a soft, powdery, classically omegan scent.

“It’s really fine—” you insisted, immediately shrugging the cardigan back off, though you appreciated the gesture. You glanced down at your shoulder, surveying the damp patch that was slowly soaking closer to your boob. “It’s clear—it will dry in a couple of minutes and no one will be any the wiser. It already stinks like alcohol in here anyway.”

The omega girl hesitated as you handed her sweater back to her. She leaned in to sniff you tentatively. “Are you sure? I really am so sorry. Your mate is going to be so mad, now you can’t really smell you over the vodka unless you get in close—”

You held up a hand, sending her a reassuring smile. “I don’t have a mate, so there’s no problem. I promise.”

You did not add that as a beta, your pool of potential mates was limited to other betas, and that no beta’s sense of smell was enough to get worked up over this. Alphas and omegas tended to forget that not everyone was as sensitive as they were.

She bit her lip, the gesture pretty, but looked somewhat mollified. “You’re sure?” she ventured one last time.

You nodded. “Totally sure. I appreciate the gesture though.”

She nodded, still looking hesitant, and you decided there was only one way to put an end to this.

“Nice to see you, though. Maybe I will catch you around later!” you said, waving her off firmly. You quickly abandoned your now empty cup on a nearby table and turned to head back into the living room. You spotted Tsuyu’s head of dark green hair through the crowd of shoulders, a homing beacon in the dim.

As you charted an unsteady path through the crush of people, you noted several more heroes and analysts from other agencies, including Kaminari Denki and a beaming Midoriya Izuku, crammed into a corner and chatting animatedly to—oh.

Your cheeks flushed. Pro hero Shouto was here.

The other hero stood tall and solemnly handsome across from Midoriya, just as maddeningly gorgeous as always. You, like every other person with working eyeballs, had long nursed a tiny bit of a celebrity crush on him, as he was literally the most beautiful person on earth—a fact evidenced by his now six-year running sweep of Tokyo Beat magazine’s cutest hero award.

In your time at Pink Riot, you’d worked a couple of joint cases with Shouto’s agency and met him a few times in passing. You’d always found him to be a little bit intense, but kind, thoughtful, straightforward, and diligent. He was every bit the reassuring hero the media made him out to be, and even more striking in person. He also always wore scent patches flush at the sides of his neck, concealing what his secondary gender was from prying noses, although you’d always sort of suspected he had to be an omega.

He was tall and solid and strong in the way of most pro heroes. But his features were so finely-wrought, so strangely graceful and elegant for a man, that you would have put significant amounts of money down on his omega status.

Not that it mattered. Betas really only dated betas, and alphas really only omegas, so Shouto’s status wasn’t much to you, regardless of what it was.

You slipped past, averting your eyes, wondering absently if an omega like Todoroki Shouto ever encountered harassment like the victims in your newest case file. Maybe his scent blockers were for this very purpose—hiding his omega status so he didn’t run the risk. You imagined with a face like his, he would be sure to garner migraine-inducing levels of undue interest.

This thought was suddenly arrested, however, when a hand pressed to your chest, shoving you back into the wall you were sidling past.

Your breath wooshed out of your lungs as a strangled “fwuuh” noise escaped you. Your gaze jerked up to find an alpha you somewhat recognized was holding you against the wall, grinning in an incredibly unsettling way.

Fuzzily, you matched his face to one of the techs from the support department, someone you occasionally saw at work functions but never worked directly with. Support interfaced mainly with the heroes, mending their tech, inventing new items, and—if Mina’s complaints were to be believed—running up quite the bill for the agency with their experimentation.

“Can I—help you?” you garbled out, staring the alpha down.

He leaned in, leery, slurring, “What’sa pretty li’l thing like you doin’ here, huh?”

He smelled strongly of Tetsutestu’s horrid concoction, like the alcohol was literally seeping from his pores. You frowned, shifting uncomfortably under his hand. It was large, and too-warm against your shoulder, and the desire to turn and bite it welled up in your mouth.

“Can you get off me?” you asked, grabbing the alpha by the wrist. A support tech though he was, his hold on you was firm, and your grip didn’t dislodge him. He clung to your sweater, his gaze glassy but intense.

He closed his eyes, nose twitching like he was-–ew—like he was scenting you. “Aww come on baby. A li’l omega like you? There’s no need to pr’tend you don’t want this.”

Your brows furrowed, confusion bubbling up inside you. A little omega like you? What the fuck was he talking about? Was he that blasted?

“You have three seconds before I bite you,” you said, certain that would be clear enough, even if he was too drunk to tell you were a beta.

But his hand didn’t move. Instead he laughed, hot and humid and smelling strongly of liquor, and he fumbled with something at his belt.

A hot wave of fear suddenly washed over you, a stab of panic lancing your heart. He wasn’t going to expose himself right here, was he? You pushed back against the wall, feeling entrapped, yanking at his wrist harder to get him off of you.

“I’m not an omega,” you said loudly. “And I’m not interested, now get—”

The alpha’s hand was gone. You blinked, suddenly finding his face missing too, your vision gone entirely gray and strangely…knitted?

“Do not touch her,” a deep voice intoned, and you realized you were staring at a broad back, clad in a handsome gray sweater. You tipped your head back, your gaze fixing on a suspiciously familiar mop of scarlet and white hair.

Shouto. Pro hero Shouto had put himself in between you and the asshole alpha.

A thrill raced down your spine.

“The fuck I won’t,” a snort issued over one of Shouto’s strong shoulders.

There was a small, silent moment where you watched Shouto’s head tilt just the tiniest bit. He didn’t say anything in return—but a sudden, creeping unease slithered over your senses, raising the hair on the back of your neck. An audible hush fell over the people nearest you, though you couldn’t see what exactly was happening, caged between Shouto’s back and the wall.

You could just make out Shouto’s scent patches, perfectly even against his neck like always, and wondered whether they would help—-if the alpha couldn’t smell Shouto was an omega, maybe he thought he would respect his boundaries more?

“Dude—” someone hissed, from somewhere near the alpha, just as Shouto spoke once more.

“You will leave,” he intoned in that deep tone again. His voice was soft, placid—but the feeling of unease grew within you, a strange itch under your skin. You had the sudden urge to flee, but one of Shouto’s hands closed over your wrist, as a cerulean eye caught yours over his shoulder. “You…please stay.”

You could do nothing but nod, your feet practically freezing in place, the desire to obey subsuming your entire brain. What the hell was happening?

As Shouto turned back to face the alpha again, that hunted feeling grew stronger, like there was something in the apartment that you should be very, very wary of. Your throat started to close up, and your breath came a little short.

The room was so suddenly silent that you could hear the nervous shift of the people beyond Shouto, and you caught the sound of the alpha suddenly stumbling back.

“You’re—are you fucking Ordering me?” The alpha asked, but you could hear that he was still backing away.

The question crawled right under your skin along with the unsettled feeling.

An Order. As in, an Alpha Order. From Shouto? Pretty, kind, patient, careful Shouto? Classic omega material Shouto?

Was…using an Order on an alpha, and it was working?

Your head spun with the mismatch between Shouto’s face and the latent command in his tone. It was almost too strange to be contemplated, and yet here it was playing out in front of you.

Shouto, for his part, didn’t bother answering the question. “I believe I asked you to leave,” he said firmly. His voice carried an inflection that sliced through the air like a knife.

“Sorry, Todoroki, he’s super fucking drunk—I’ll get him out of here,” another voice said, one you recognized as a different support tech.

It sounded like he didn’t need to expend the effort, however, as the alpha’s footsteps were already beating a hasty retreat. The other support tech’s footsteps followed, his pace clipped on the hardwood.

As soon as they were out of view, the suffocating feeling all but evaporated. You could almost feel the sigh of relief around the room, and the line of Shouto’s shoulders untensed.

He turned to you slowly, drawing in a deep breath. His normally blank expression had been exchanged for something troubled, his perfect eyebrows knitted in concern, his full mouth pursed up like he’d just let it drop from a snarl.

He blinked down at you for a second, those distinct heterochromatic eyes flicking over you, before you found yourself suddenly crowded back into the corner, your back bumping the wall. Shouto leaned down and gave a delicate sniff at your temple, as if checking your condition.

“Are you alright?” he asked. His voice was still strange, rough with something you couldn’t name.

He was warm where he lingered over you, his shoulders broad enough that they blocked the light and cast falling shadows into the meager space between you. He was near enough that the dip of his sweater collar rasped over your shoulder, sending a swarm of tingles over your skin. You drew in a careful breath, trying to figure out just what the right answer was, coming up with nothing.

Shouto frowned over your lack of a response. His nose pressed right into your hair, and he crowded even closer, like he was trying to find the source of your discomfort—even though he’d just chased that source right through the front door.

“Your scent is difficult to find,” he murmured, his chest expanding and contracting. “It is covered by many things…” He trailed off as he seemed to find it—and then something strange happened—even stranger than the scene with the support tech alpha.

Shouto froze in place, going so unearthly still he might have been transmuted into marble. You heard his breath catch and hold in his lungs, and his fingers came up to grasp your sleeve, clutching you tightly.

You opened your mouth to ask what was wrong when a shudder swept down him, from head to toe. His grip on your wrist tightened for a moment, and a groan bubbled up from somewhere low in his throat.

“Your scent—” he rasped, then cut himself off.

He huffed out a harsh breath instead, stirring your hair, before his face dropped into the cradle of your shoulder. He breathed in, slow, measured, his mouth just barely touching the skin of your throat. You could feel his long, pretty eyelashes flutter against your skin, and the sensation sent shivers down your spine.

Something under your skin shifted in response, then.

To your utter shock, you could feel yourself tilting your head to the side, baring your neck. A strange feeling of malleability settled over you, like your bones had jellified and your muscles had atrophied.

“Shouto—?” you garbled out, unable to articulate any question beyond what the fuck was happening? You knew it had something to do with the way Shouto was most definitely not an omega after all. The thought made your brain fuzz with static.

Pretty, gentle, elegant Todoroki Shouto was an alpha. Kind, placid, beautiful Todoroki Shouto was even some kind of…distressingly strong alpha.

It crossed all the wires in your brain to think of that face possessing that kind of strength. But there was clearly something there. And you were being so weird and embarrassing about it, but you couldn’t have moved, even if you wanted to.

It felt like a short eternity, the time Shouto stood over you like that, his face pressed into your throat, your own throat bared to him. Your heartbeat pounded in your chest, simultaneously hammering a zillion miles a minute, and yet feeling slow, syrupy.

Distantly, you registered the hum of voices in the background, Tetsutetsu trying to rekindle the happy atmosphere. But Shouto was so warm over you, breathing slow and shallow, a tall, strong anchor weighing you against the wall.

It could have been minutes or hours before he finally stepped away. He looked calmer, but a little dazed. You felt the same way, mystified by what had just occurred between you.

His gaze picked over you in some kind of assessment. “You’re well?” he asked carefully. His voice was pitched low.

“Yeah,” you managed, your throat weirdly dry. “Yeah. I—thank you, Shouto.”

Shouto inclined his head in a nod. “You, as well. I don’t usually…I try not to rise to anger. But when alphas try to use their power to—” he cut himself off. His throat bobbed with some emotion you couldn’t name.

“Your scent is….calming to me.”

You nodded. The beta chill thing again, like Mina had said.

“Your friendly neighborhood beta, at your service,” you saluted him, trying to ignore the strange, lingering shiver in your limbs.

A tiny smile quirked the corner of Shouto’s mouth, but his gaze remained fixed on you, almost inhumanly intense.

“That is not quite what I mean,” he said, but did not elaborate. There was something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you that you didn’t understand, but you didn’t know him well enough to try to dig into it.

Instead you just gave him another smile, your face heating as you noticed several people around you were still watching you.

You figured it was probably time to make an escape after that little scene you had just caused, for Shouto’s reputation as well as yours. You didn’t need people thinking Shouto had been scenting you for any reason other than your apparent beta chill pill scent, especially now that people at the party would know he was an alpha.

God, he was an alpha, even with a face like that.

You waved at him, garbling out another, “Well, thanks for the save! I, um, have to be going, but I’ll see you around!” before throwing yourself back through the crowd, your head spinning.

Mina had come out of the kitchen and tried to flag you down as you passed. You waved back at her like you’d misunderstood, quickly fighting your way back to Tetsu’s front door. You felt the weight of dozens of eyes on your back, and the prick of two heterochromatic ones, somehow more certain and weightier than the others. But you didn’t turn around, eager to get out of the crowd, still reeling from what had happened.

You didn’t know how you had been mistaken for an omega by that drunk alpha, and understood even less what had possessed Shouto to sniff you all over like that, embarrassed by how much you had liked it. It most probably had something to do with how inherently non-aggressive beta scents were supposed to be, maybe helping Shouto down from how keyed up he’d been about that other alpha.

But it had still been so embarrassing and strange, the way your head had tipped right back for him, the way your limbs had gone to jelly in his hold. You hoped he’d had a little to drink too or he’d probably realize how weird you were, reacting like that.

Finally, you spilled out of Tetsu’s and into the night, the evening air cool on your heated skin. The phantom touch of Shouto’s mouth still lingered on your throat, warm and disconcerting.

You beelined for home, your head swimming. You wondered just how long it would take you to forget how very strange this evening had been.

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER TWO

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya | lmk if you want to be added! wc: 7.6k notes: check masterlist for content warnings! honestly a pretty lowkey chap but it's strictly business 🧐 thank you for the love on chapter 1 🫶 i fear this chap and the next couple of parts are slow-ish but i've reread this literally a million times and im sick of it so what do i actually know. no beta we die like brian thompson

'Bueckers and Kennedy, Two Dynasties, Both Alike in Dignity'

College basketball fans are excited for what appears to be the end of the "Tess Kennedy Destruction Tour." After a quiet few days, the South Carolinian guard took to social media where she shared a photo of her and a faceless individual meeting for coffee. The Instagram story was captioned "and a new day will bring about the dawn," a lyric from Frank Ocean's "Sierra Leone." Supporters interpreted this as Kennedy's recovery journey taking a positive turn, but the song lyric was not the star of the show.

Fans were quick to point out the identity of the individual was not as hidden as it seemed. Kennedy's companion was wearing two notable necklaces - one with a silver cross and one with a studded #5. The phone case in camera was also purple with a wallet attached to the back. One commenter pointed out there was a University of Connecticut student ID poking out, and after review, we believe that much is true.

Early speculation declared Kennedy's friend was none other than Paige Bueckers, the star point guard for the University of Connecticut Huskies. Then, roughly an hour after Kennedy's post, Bueckers herself took to her Instagram where she shared a photo of her holding an icepack to someone's left knee. Both Bueckers and the mystery individual are faceless; however, fans noted Bueckers's companion was wearing a silver bracelet with familiar charms and a #25, Kennedy's jersey number.

All of the signs point to Bueckers and Kennedy spending time together, although nothing has been confirmed officially. One fan noted that Bueckers tore her own ACL the year prior, believing that Bueckers flew out to South Carolina to lend a supportive hand to Kennedy amidst her own recovery and hardships. Whether or not this is simply two friends rehabbing together or the most obvious soft launch in basketball history, sports fans are united on two things: Tess Kennedy is beginning to take her recovery seriously, and Paige Bueckers might just be the guardian angel people were calling for.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 3, 2023

“So, lemme get this straight.”

Tess hums around a mouthful of Chipotle, feeling lighter than she has in weeks. Kamilla and Bree returned to their apartment roughly a half hour earlier and immediately put Tess on the hot seat. Once she made it through her countless apologies and explanations with minimal interruptions, she gave Kam and Bree the green light to ask their questions, and it seemed as though they had plenty.

Kam raises her fingers as she lists off the recent happenings of Tess’s life. “Because you went off a bender–” Tess frowns at the way it’s phrased, “–Amaya is forcing you into mandatory PT, therapy, and a shit ton of PR. Honestly, about fucking time.” Bree snorts, although some of the worry leaves her body. “If all it took was tough love, I woulda been meaner to your ass a month ago.”

“Don’t think it would have had the intended effect,” Tess concedes thoughtfully. She pushes around her rice and chicken, shoveling a pepper in her mouth. “I wasn’t really in a listening mood back then.”

Bree raises a brow. “And you were today?”

The injured guard shrugs a shoulder. “Well, when your manager tells you that your brand deals are about to cut their contracts, and you’re at risk for losing your basketball scholarship for behavior and academic reasons, and you’re slowly killing yourself…that kind of puts things into perspective.”

Kamilla nods solemnly. “And the Paige situation.”

Tess almost flushes under their scrutinizing gaze. She hasn’t forgotten. She has Paige’s receipt tucked into the pocket of her pants, unwilling to throw it away but also feeling weirdly vulnerable for wanting to keep it. It wasn’t a huge gesture by any means. Paige doing PT with her was objectively more intimate than buying her lunch, but the mere idea of Paige saying goodbye to her and sitting in an Uber trying to figure out what Tess likes in her Chipotle bowl is just fucking insane. “Guess I’m not single anymore…so, yay?”

“You’re taking this a lot better than I expected,” Kamilla admits hesitantly. Tess clocks the concern in her expression, like she’s thinking about her next step if she wakes up tomorrow and Tess is back to her old ways. That thought alone makes guilt squeeze at Tess’s heart.

Tess sighs. “It was like a wake up call,” she says after a moment. “Like those stupid ice baths Coach makes us do in recovery.” Kamilla and Bree crack a small smile at the joke. “To me, it was just easier to self-destruct than to let something else kill me. Basketball’s more than a sport to me – it’s my purpose, right? So after I heard I might not be able to play again, I just…let myself sink. And, Christ, people were so cruel online.” Tess huffs out something like a laugh, her throat tight with pain. “It’s funny ‘cause it never bothered me before, but… I just wanted to forget. I wanted them to hurt like I hurt. It was too easy to give into that.” The silence rings out in the living room as Tess searches for her next words. “I don’t think all hope is lost. Today helped me understand that a little better. So, I’m gonna try. I’m just fucking terrified it’s all going to be for nothing, that my knee’s never going to get better and I’m going to put myself through so much pain for a what if.”

“Okay, what if you never play again, but, God, Tess, what if you do?” Kamilla says slowly. “What if you do everything right and you get better and you can play with us again in March? I want that for you. We want that for you. Do you want that for you?”

“I mean, of course–”

“Then do it!” Kamilla exclaims, voice cracking. Tess blinks at her owlishly. She’s never seen Kamilla like this, ever, wide-eyed and desperate. It’s a near 180 shift from the girl she’s spent the last 30 minutes talking to, a complete and total shift from the girl who she’s shared an apartment with for two years. “Please, Tess. Do the PT, your therapy, get back on track; whatever it fucking takes, Tess, you need to do it. We miss you. On and off the court. I know it’s not about me, but watching you throw yourself away like that was the worst thing I’d ever witnessed, especially because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get through to you. I thought I was going to lose my best friend!”

Tess’s jaw falls open as the sudden realization of how badly she’s fucked up dawns on her for the second time that day. “Kam,” she tries, her throat tightening with emotion. The taller woman wipes her eyes, taking in a shuddering breath. Kamilla was never one to be mean, no matter how upset she was – that was a trait of hers that made her such a good leader and role model on the court. She was big on accountability and ensuring that past mistakes would never happen again. Seeing all of the emotion she kept under tight lock and key because she knew she needed to be strong for Tess (even before Tess was aware that she needed someone to be strong for her) is unbelievably sobering.

When Tess and Kamilla first met, they almost instantly knew they would be each other’s best friend. They were alike in so many ways – they were fierce competitors and proud haters of The Office; they bonded over shared struggles of not quite knowing what home was and being just a little too different from everyone else. Tess isn’t sure where she would be without Kamilla. She always prayed she’d never have to find out, but the idea that she nearly subjected Kamilla to finding out where she’d be without Tess feels both arduous and damning.

“Kam,” Tess says again, her mind reeling. “I’m so sorry – I’m so fucking sorry. If I could do it all over again, I would. I’m trying. It’s so hard but I’m trying.”

“I know,” Kamilla says, nodding rapidly. Bree is unnaturally quiet, glancing between the two of them with a conflicted expression. Sure, the three of them shared an apartment, but the bond between Tess and Kamilla exceeded friendship; they were like sisters. Bree knew that and it never bothered her. Now it seems as though she’s unsure where to stand, but she understands that this is a much-needed conversation that Tess and Kamilla need to have. “I know, Tess, I’m just – I’m glad you understand it now. Just… please, please let us help you. Don’t shut us out.”

“I won’t,” Tess vows. “I can’t promise I’m going to be at 100%, but fuck, I’m going to try.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Kamilla concedes.

The living room is quiet for a long while until Bree shifts uncomfortably. “So… PT and mental health counseling, those I understand,” she says. “I’m still a little lost on why fake dating Paige is good for your reputation. Rumors are rumors but…it’s giving new flavor of the week.”

“It’s not like that,” Tess argues, a little too defensively. Bree raises a brow and Tess immediately flushes. She’s not sure why that jab at Paige felt personal. She made a similar jab only a few hours ago. But it wasn’t her business to judge. People have their own reasons to do what they do, right? “Well, she said it wasn’t like that,” she amends, which sounds objectively worse. Tess frowns, wishing she’d just kept quiet.

“Hey, I’m just saying.” Bree raises her hand in surrender. “It’s her vice, right? Her free time is her own, but I mean, she’s Paige Bueckers. It’s easy to get caught up in her. I just don’t want you becoming another notch on her bedpost, even if you’re just fake dating her to make people forget you’re on Twitter restriction.”

Tess wrinkles her nose. “My account is unbanned now, thank you very much,” she deflects, but Kamilla’s knowing expression has her redirecting. “I understand what you guys mean, but you don’t have to worry about that. We’re strictly business.” Bree grins wryly, huffing out something akin to laughter that sounds vaguely like, ‘that’s what they all say.’

“Was the Chipotle strictly business?” Bree asks.

Tess’s face is a perfect picture of confusion, but her heart thrums a little faster at the insinuation. What could she possibly know about that? “What does Chipotle have to do with anything?” she asks casually.

Bree’s smirk widens. “You never order bowls. It’s always a burrito with you.”

“I’m trying something new!”

“Yeah, new like a six-foot blonde hooper–”

Kamilla and Bree break out into howling laughter as Tess buries her head in her hands, blushing again. “Oh, my God. You guys are the fucking worst.”

And, sure – the joke is at Tess’s expense, but she can’t help but feel like everything is aligning once more, that they’re returning to the way they once were pre-injury. She expected that it would have taken her a lot more groveling to earn back their favor. Tess was a huge jerk to them – the more she thinks about what she’d likely said to them under the haze of several shots of tequila, the more she wishes she could take it all back and do it over again. She tore her ACL, a season ending injury for many athletes, and for a smaller few, it changed the course of their careers drastically. Tess wants to find it within herself to have some grace, to understand why she behaved the way she did, but now that she sees it with a clearer mind, she can’t help but be disgusted by herself.

For Kamilla and Bree, it’s probably all water under the bridge. They’re kind people like that, perhaps too kind after the way Tess treated them. Maybe the real gotcha! moment is the idea that Tess didn’t need to earn back their favor, anyhow. Sometimes friendship just works like that – it’s confusing and a great risk, but most times that risk pays off. Sometimes friendship just is, accepting a mistake and trusting that it wouldn’t happen again.

Feeling lighter than she has in weeks, Tess retires to her room for some much needed rest after a long day. She lights a candle, settling against her headboard and adjusting the pillow cushioning her knee. Deciding to face the music sooner rather than later, she begins combing through her mountain of notifications and unread DMs. The apology from Caitlin is touching. Tess feels an odd mix of guilt and appreciation as she drafts out her overdue response: “thank you for checking in, been a rough couple weeks. the injury is not your fault but trust that SC will pick your pockets next year!!!” Caitlin’s own response is swift – a simple 'Bring it on' that Tess can’t help but smile at.

She sends similar responses to some of Caitlin’s teammates and the other college players who reached out. She even had a couple of pros expressing their condolences, which honestly shocked Tess. There was Napheesa Collier, Sabrina Ionescu, and A’ja Wilson – A’ja’s DM made Tess’s Gamecock heart beat just a little faster. She was basically South Carolina royalty. Having that kind of support in her corner fills her with an insurmountable confidence.

Her last post on Instagram was a collection of pictures following their Elite Eight win. The sight of herself from a month ago, healthy and glowing, nearly made her thumb falter as she flicked through the images. It was a simple dump – a couple of action shots, a fierce one of Tess celebrating, one of her setting up for a deep three. It was captioned “nowhere else i’d rather be.” That much was still true. She’s pushed it to the recesses of her mind, but instinctually, she can feel the deep ache and the yearn to get back on the court, even though her knee hardly lets her sleep through the night most of the time.

Her eyes fall to the comments. She knows she shouldn’t look at them. She’s practically memorized each and every single one of them. Her teammates’ comments live at the top, celebrating the win with her; under them, there are newer ones from South Carolina fans, offering prayers and support, confident in their belief that Tess will bounce back from this. She can’t help herself from reading the hate comments, either. Her eyes catch on one in particular. Their username isn’t particularly memorable, but it reads, ‘Upsetting to see how Tess has responded to a normal injury for athletes. It’s shameful that South Carolina has let this go on for so long. Grow up!’ 

Well, he’s not wrong. Tess’s response was a pretty terrible one and Amaya herself admitted that they made a mistake in handling the situation. Frankly, he should be proud that Tess has grown up! If she read that comment a week ago, she probably would have crashed out. The thought alone makes Tess crack the slightest of smiles. Before she can keep reading, a text message from an unknown number pops up at the top of her screen, inadvertently saving her from a doom scroll.

Yo How’d I do on lunch? It’s Paige btw

Tess fights the warmth she feels in her chest. Honestly, she would have guessed that it was Paige from the ego she can identify through the screen alone, but she saves her contact regardless.

i’m afraid to admit i prefer burritos but the bowl was a 9/10

Paige’s response is swift.

9 cause I’m the 1 you need?

Tess rolls her eyes.

9 bc there was too much pico and bc the girl who ordered it flirts like a 12 year old

That’s insane You KNOW I have better game than that

you have no rizz, just blue eyes and a bunch of nil money like joe burrow if he was a hey mamas lesbian

Gonna ignore that hey mamas comment just cause I fuck with Joe Burrow The Bengals don’t have nothing on my Vikings though

i think i just got the ick im not gonna lie

Are you a football hater???

i don’t watch men’s sports at all i try to protect my peace

Pause So no Lebron???

ok well obviously i’ve watched the NBA

You scared me Don’t say that shit again

why are you so high maintenance

Why are you so mean

someone has to keep you in check settling down, remember?

I think you could be a little nicer!

hmmm i’ll consider ok i decided no

Just plain evil

i need to get my kicks in early if im stuck with you again on friday

You invited me???

i don’t think that’s how that happened

Pretty sure that’s exactly how that happened Paige please come to PT with me 🥺 Please Paige

ok now you’re just being delusional i see how you’re forgetting the whole ‘tess let me buy your coffee 🥺please tess’

Chilllll Did your doctor check you for a concussion after the ACL?? There’s something wrong with your brain

be honest, are you a natural blonde or did you work really hard to be this stupid

Hard work always baby Also, wanted to ask if you wanna come to the airport with me on Saturday, be seen together I fly out at 11:30am so I think it would be good for us The story I mean

you gonna pay for my uber back?

Duh

paige i was kidding

I wasn’t No rizz, just blue eyes and a lot of NIL money, right?

you’re insufferable

So you’ll come?

don’t sound so excited but i will for the story

Of course See you Friday ma 🫶

Tess likes Paige’s message before shutting her phone off with a sigh. She needs a nap.

MAY 5, 2023

Friday arrives after a day and a half of binging 2 Broke Girls, independent physical therapy exercises, and lots of ice packs.

Tess slept like shit Thursday night, though she’s unsure if it’s because of the pain in her knee or because of how badly she wanted to haul her ass to the bar and order a couple of shots to numb the throb. She knew she couldn’t do it, no matter how much she thought she needed it – it was bad enough that she spent half of the night sweating through her shirt and chewing on ice cubes to distract herself from the slow downward spiral of her thoughts. Not addicted, she’d remind herself, nursing a cup with rapidly melting ice as she watched Max and Caroline put themselves in weird ass situations. Psychologically, no. Physically…who knows. Tess certainly doesn’t know what that means, but she’s not addicted, period.

Her first therapy appointment was scheduled for Monday afternoon. She just had to hold out until then. Tess hopes that she would glean something useful from her counselor, but she’s been self aware and independent enough for years that she’s usually good at identifying her problems, though slightly less efficient at figuring out what to do about them. Her typical coping methods included a casual mantra of, ‘Pitbull’s been there, done that,’ and running a couple of drills in the quiet of the gym. And, sure – it sounds weird, but the idea that she’s not the only person facing an issue is comforting enough that she wonders if it’s even that deep. It works most of the time and she’s able to shrug it off. She will admit there’s an eventual crash out one way or the other, but she prefers one big explosion over a series of small, ill-timed ones.

With nothing but time on Thursday night, her Google search history consisted of queries such as how long does it take to establish alcohol dependence and symptoms of alcohol withdrawals. Then, around 3am, she got distracted and switched over to TikTok where she scrolled through edits of herself, but that’s less important. She learned that establishing alcohol dependence usually varies from person to person (Tess hates when something ‘depends;’ why can’t there ever be a straight answer?). It’s less clear if she’s officially ‘addicted,’ but she will concede that after a month of heavy drinking, there’s a little something there. Which isn’t ideal, of course, but hopefully it’s mild at the least. It was only a month and people intervened early…ish – maybe if she sticks to recovery then she should be good and clear within a couple weeks at the most.

Google also informed her of the several symptoms of withdrawals, which usually set in anywhere from six to twenty-four hours after going cold-turkey on the drinks. The withdrawals explained, obviously, the need to ransack the liquor store, but also the restlessness, the slight headache she was nursing for the past twenty-four hours, and the perpetual stomach ache she couldn’t seem to get rid of.

She had some answers. So, things were looking up!

…At least they were until she got the call from Amaya at 9:30 as she was struggling to eat a bagel. Google also mentioned a loss of appetite, which Tess was less than happy about. Much like everything else about her recovery, she would have to force herself into doing a lot of things that her body didn’t want her to do. She’d get used to it. She lets her phone ring for a short moment before she sighs, accepting the call and putting it on speaker, greeting Amaya.

“Good morning, Tess!” Amaya chirps, unusually chipper. The basketball player immediately frowns, brows furrowing.

“You get laid?” she asks, unsure of what else Amaya could be happy about in her life.

She can almost hear Amaya’s eye roll from across the line. “No, not that it’s any of your business, though.”

“Boo.”

“Anyways, back to business.” Amaya clears her throat. Tess can hear the slight shuffle of papers. “So, I really liked what you and Paige did, soft-launch wise. The press is eating it up and so far, both of your brand deals are seeing a slight surge in activity. I’m guessing people are flocking to your accounts for raunchy details and seeing you advertise, um, really cool make up products and homework help.” Tess huffs out a laugh at that. “Good job. Also, Craig let me know you showed up to PT as scheduled on Wednesday and did really well. He said you and Paige worked really well together–”

“Stop,” Tess says, listening to the sound of Amaya’s smug laugh. “Don’t insinuate anything.”

“I’m not insinuating anything!” Amaya says defensively and Tess cracks a smile. “So, we just need you and Paige to keep up what you’re doing. Do the small things for a couple of weeks, then hard-launch. We’re going to give you guys most of the control over that. We want it to seem more authentic and less like two PR agencies trying to salvage their clients’ images.”

“Of course,” Tess says innocently. “She’s coming to PT today. Then I’m going with her to the airport tomorrow.”

Amaya sighs dreamily. “You’re such a wonder to work with when you’re being cooperative.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Tess grumbles, giving up on the bagel and tossing it in the trash.

“Alright, one more thing,” Amaya continues, “then I’ll let you go.” Tess hums. “I need you to draft an apology to post on your socials – and I know, it sounds corny, but–”

“You don’t need to explain why,” Tess interrupts softly. “I got it. I fucked up and I made a huge mess. I’ll email that to you Saturday night.”

Amaya is quiet for a moment, contemplative. “Thank you, Tess. And, hey, how are you feeling?”

Tess doesn’t answer for a beat, considering keeping her thoughts to herself, but she reminds her promise to Kamilla to not shut anyone out, so she sighs. “Um, not gonna lie, I didn’t sleep at all last night,” she admits. “My knee hurt and I really wanted to drink – but I didn’t! I binge watched TV and ate ice cubes. Probably not the best thing I could have done but it was all I had to work with.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Amaya says gently. “It’s gonna be hard for a while, especially when your injury is still new and fresh and you’re all over the place mentally. I’m proud of how you handled it, even if you think you could have done better. Don’t forget you can call that counselor, okay? She’s available at all hours for you.”

“I don’t wanna be a bother–”

“It’s her job,” Amaya states, before adding in a more mother-hen tone, “but she also requested to work with you specifically because this issue is close to her and she really wants to help you. So if you need help, call her. Got it?”

Tess blinks back the impending tears. “Yeah. Got it.”

“Listen, I’m proud of you, I mean it,” Amaya reiterates. “Thank you for being patient and doing this. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Tess says again. “Talk to you soon.”

Amaya hangs up with one final goodbye. Tess presses her head to the cool counter tile and takes a deep breath. She hardly has the time to think before a knock sounds at the apartment door. Already knowing it was Paige, Tess wipes her eyes and slips her crutches under her arms as she slinks towards the door and opens it.

“Mornin!’” Paige greets, far too cheery for barely ten in the morning. She’s holding two cups of coffee in her hands. When Tess glances down, she easily recognizes her coffee order. Then, a frown covers Paige’s face as she walks in and shuts the door behind her. “You good, ma?”

“Just a tough conversation with Amaya,” Tess says as Paige hands her the drink. She takes a long sip, feeling a little more regulated. “Too many feelings.”

Paige smirks at her. “I’m guessin’ she said the same shit my manager called for? ‘Keep up the good work and keep doing couple-y stuff?’”

Tess hums. “More or less. Oh, I also get to publicly apologize, so there’s that.”

The blonde raises a brow as Tess hands back the coffee cup so she can slip into her shoes. “You? Apologize?”

Tess swats her with her crutch, drawing laughter from Paige. “You’re such a jerk. I apologized to you on Wednesday!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you called me a whore,” Paige says with a dramatic pout. “Really hurt my women-respecting feelings.”

“Please walk me to PT and stop talking.”

And Paige does just that. She holds onto both of their coffees as they walk as Tess’s hands are otherwise preoccupied with her crutches. The silence doesn’t last too long before Paige is rambling about all of the questioning she’s getting from her teammates, and Tess can’t help but listen – correction, she has no other choice but to. Paige admits that she doesn’t like keeping secrets from her team, and Tess feels sympathetic enough that she gives Paige the go-ahead to confess their little ruse. Paige’s denial, however, is shockingly mature. “I trust them not to say sum’ maliciously, right? But you never know who’s listening.”

Tess shrugs a shoulder. “If you change your mind, go for it, okay?” she says. “This is our punishment. Don’t wanna fuck up your friendships.”

“S’all good,” Paige says. “Actually, they’re pretty happy about it. Aubrey thinks I’ll play better next season since I ‘got a girl.’”

Tess snorts. “Yeah, you’ll play better until March, then I’ll get cleared to be back on the court and I’ll drop 25 on you.”

Paige wrinkles her nose. “No way, ma. Try 2-point-5. As in 2.5 turnovers every time I guard you.”

Their banter continues until they reach the PT’s office. Craig greets them with an infectious grin and Tess immediately brightens. He helps her take the brace off of her leg and rolls up her pant leg, poking and prodding at her injury. After just a day and a half of actual care, much of the inflammation has reduced.

Craig walks her through some guided exercises, and much to Tess’s silent appreciation, Paige joins them, too. She has a charming smile on her face the entire time, tacking on ridiculous jokes at the absolute worst moments when Tess is out of breath from the stretch and when laughing feels like gasping for air. Paige is strangely helpful. She boosts both Tess’s morale, comforting her in the fact she’s not doing this alone, but she also has a plethora of tips on how to manage the pain and get a better stretch on the exercises. Her hands are warm on Tess’s knee when she adjusts her leg and the way it bends. Craig looks on with an approving nod, though he jokes that Paige is coming for his job, to which Paige huffs, “Tess don’t listen to me.” Tess can only roll her eyes at that, pretending like she doesn’t care about the way Paige’s hands massage the tension out of her leg.

When Craig steps out to grab his wrapping supplies, Paige stretches out her legs and reaches for her phone. “For the gram?” she asks easily, glancing at Tess for permission.

“Don’t call it that,” she grumbles, but nods anyway and pulls out her own phone. “You sound like an old person.”

“You sound like an old person,” Paige mocks, effectively lowering her age by a solid ten years, and Tess rolls her eyes in amusement. She slides a little closer to Tess, reaching for her left leg and draping it over her right one gently, locking their ankles together. “Good?” Tess hums, looking over Paige’s shoulder and throwing a thumbs up into view of the camera. “You’re so unoriginal,” Paige says, but she sticks her free hand in frame and presses her middle and ring fingers to her thumb, raising her index and pinky in the Husky salute.

“That’s basically a hard launch,” Tess says, though she doesn’t really care.

“Everything we do is a hard launch,” Paige retorts. “We got Instagram detectives, remember?”

Tess mulls it over for a second before turning to Paige with a mischievous grin. “You wanna break the internet?”

“Oh, now we’re talking.”

Paige posts her picture to her story, forgoing any sort of caption, and silences her phone. She gives Tess her undivided attention as she plots. Tess pulls Paige closer into her space, hooking her chin over her right shoulder and leaning against her. Setting up her phone at the right angle, she says, “Look to your left,” and Paige does so until her piercings, half of her low bun, and the slight curve of her jaw are the only things in frame. The lights glint off of the diamond studs in her ears – Tess has to resist a smirk at how obvious the picture is, but she quickly controls her expression, her lips drawing into a natural pout as she takes the photo.

“Got it?” Paige asks, tilting her head to look at the photo. A smile covers her face as she takes it in. “Tess, you’re evil. Everyone is gonna flip.”

“My notifications are going to explode,” she says forlornly. “This is the price I pay to be mysterious and sexy.”

“Mysterious, nah,” Paige says. Her eyes linger on Tess’s face for a moment before she breaks out into a grin. “Sexy…? Hell nah.”

Indignant, Tess pushes her away, sending Paige sprawling to the floor dramatically. “Asshole! What happened to those ‘women-respecting feelings?’”

“You just pushed me to the ground!” Paige cries. “Where are your women-respecting feelings?”

Craig walks in just then, his face morphing into amused confusion as he looks between the two of them, wrapping supplies in hand. “Am I interrupting something?” he jokes.

Tess tries to keep the blush off of her cheeks. “Paige is just being mean to me,” she declares. “Poor Tess Kennedy whose left knee doesn’t even work.”

“Bro!” Paige’s tone is exasperated, and it brings a smile to Tess’s face. “You’re full of sh–” Paige cuts herself off with a cough. “...Sharks. Full of sharks.”

Craig chuckles as he examines Tess’s knee one last time before nodding and beginning to wrap it. “Same stuff, okay? Ice it when you do independent exercise, keep using your crutches, absolutely nothing strenuous.”

Tess nods, thanking Craig and heading out with Paige at her side. Even though the PT combined with her lack of sleep the night before has left her exhausted, Tess is in a significantly better mood than she started the day with. It’s likely too early into her recovery to feel any sort of earth-shattering hope, but she can’t help but feel like she’s doing it. She has yet to attend her first therapy appointment and the light at the end of the tunnel is still ten months away, but it feels like she’s making it out alive. And for now, that’s good enough for her.

MAY 6, 2023

Sleep comes easier to her Friday night. The cravings returned in full force as she was getting ready for bed, but Tess was exhausted – she took a melatonin gummy and passed out, although her knee woke her up a time or two. She felt well-rested for the first time in a couple of days. The drinking numbed her enough that she was able to sleep, but the abrupt cut-off has her body in disarray. It’s a double-edged sword. Her body craves it, but every time she thinks about a drink, she’s so disgusted at the thought that she can nearly taste the bile in her mouth. While it makes the cravings subside for a moment, they always return. She takes Tylenol in the morning to ward off the impeding headache and chugs a cup and a half of water, feeling as though she needs to flush all the bullshit out of her body.

Kamilla and Bree are up early and the three of them mill about the kitchen as they prepare a light breakfast. It was a Saturday morning tradition for them, usually consisting of pancakes, bacon, and eggs and a lengthy conversation about their weeks or anything in general. They’ve missed out on it for the past month for…obvious reasons that Tess already nurses a lot of guilt over, but she’s keen on making up for lost time. Kam and Bree put her on bacon duty as it’s the least strenuous. She portions the meat in the pan and slides it into the oven as Kam and Bree bicker over their shared stovetop space.

It’s grounding. Tess contributes where she can, enjoying the peace of the moment and laughing along with her teammates when they say something stupid. It nearly makes her forget about her knee, about the guilt she’s working through as she continues to make amends. Part of her wonders why she’d ever resorted to shutting everyone out and losing herself when all she really needed was to just let them in. She watches Kam shout in indignation as Bree jokingly flicks a bit of pepper into her pancake batter, and all Tess can think about is how could she ever hurt those girls. She remembers her promise. Tess has let too many terrible things become a habit, but she refuses to let mistreating her friends be a continued one.

They all sit to eat and the chatter only stops long enough to pass around their bottle of maple syrup and the butter. Kam and Bree ask how PT’s been going, and Tess is honest when she answers. She’s only two days into it and more often than not, it hurts – but she knows it’s for the better. She doesn’t voice the worry that she might stop taking it as seriously once Paige is back in Connecticut. Tess was only partially joking when she told Craig she had an enforcer. Paige holds her accountable in a way she’s been trying to force herself into doing, but her mind is still such a mess that it’s difficult and all she wants to do is mope in bed all day. She knows Kam and Bree wouldn’t let her live that down and she doesn’t want them to feel like she still needs a babysitter.

They tell her that they're proud of her, and Tess feels the tears well up as she tells them to shut up.

“She’s so back,” Kamilla cheers, high-fiving Bree. “Our little ball of sunshine.” Tess can only roll her eyes.

Breakfast ends and Kam and Bree ensure that they’ve got the dishes. The clock on the stove reads 10:30. Tess knows that Paige is likely on her way. She hugs them both, promising to be back once she’s seen her off, and slips into her shoes just as a knock rings out at the door.

Paige’s brows draw into a dramatic furrow once they come face to face. “Damn, you opened this door mad quick,” she says. “Tryna get rid of me that fast?”

Tess cracks a smile, shutting the door behind them with the leg of her crutch. “The sooner you’re out of South Carolina, the better.” They walk down the hallway.

Paige sighs as she punches the elevator button for the lobby. “You’ll miss me,” she says, assured. “You’re gonna miss me bringin’ you coffee, DoorDashing you Chipotle, and making sure you don’t re-tear your ACL.”

“On the contrary…I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet.” Paige shoots her a dirty look and Tess can’t help but laugh.

Paige escorts her to the Uber she has waiting for them. She holds onto Tess’s crutches as she helps her into the passenger side backseat, laying her leg flat against the leather. Her foot nearly brushes the door. Confused and wondering what Paige is doing, the blonde shuts the door and rounds the side. As she settles in, she drapes Tess’s leg over her lap. “You good?”

Mouth dry, all Tess can do is nod, and Paige leans forward enough to instruct their Uber driver to head to the airport. Her palm falls flat on Tess’s shin, her thumb brushing against her leg, and with the way Paige stares out of the window, it’s almost like she doesn’t even register what she’s doing. Their ride is quiet, save for the driver's soft R&B that Paige bobs her head to. Tess slips her phone out of her pocket and snags a quick photo, flipping her phone screen to show her. Paige smiles at her wordlessly, knowing they shouldn’t verbally scheme in front of the driver, and Tess posts the photo to her story.

She refreshes her feed, combing through all of the shit she’s been tagged in from various college basketball update accounts and Instagram sleuths. She and Paige are the face of a new account named taigeupdates – which Tess is assuming is supposed to be their ship name? Given that the alternative is Pess – not that Tess has given it any thought, because she hasn’t! – she could live with it. The admin already has Tess’s story reposted and the comments are flooding in with many begging for an official hard launch since it’s already obvious.

Their driver parks in the designated drop off lane and Paige helps Tess out of the backseat, ensuring she’s stable on her crutches before she’s looping around to the trunk and pulling her carry-on and suitcase out. Tess can already feel the eyes on them, the hushed whispers of, “Is that Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy?” And despite years in the spotlight, she can’t help the anxious flush that creeps up on her neck. Having so many eyes on her makes her feel vulnerable enough, but combined with the fact she has a huge brace on her leg and she’s walking around with crutches? She feels uncomfortable, like she’s a pacing animal behind bars in the zoo.

“Ready?” Paige murmurs, stepping up behind her, pressing her free hand to the palm of Tess’s back. The touch comforts her slightly, but only because she’s accustomed to Paige right now and because they’re in this together. Tess gives her a solid nod, tightening her hands around the bars of her crutches. The blonde moves her hand down to her hip to give her a reassuring squeeze before placing it at the center of her back. Paige leads them into the airport, though she leans down, her mouth close to Tess’s ear as she whispers. “We shoulda talked about this earlier, but…what’s on and off limits right now?”

Tess swallows, trying to ignore the nerves. “Just do whatever feels right,” she answers honestly. “The media knows we just spent three days together, right? Don’t overthink it. I’m your girlfriend sending you off at the airport. Make it look like that and not two strangers trying to look the part.”

Paige grins insufferably at her. “Aw, I think that’s the first time you claimed me,” she says. Tess rolls her eyes, tempted to swat her with her crutch, but decides against it. The last thing she needs is Paige tripping and fucking up her knee even more. “So…nothing's off limits?”

“You wanna kiss me so bad you look stupid,” Tess says, nudging Paige with her elbow. From the corner of her eye, she can see the phone camera pointed at them, so she swallows her pride and looks up to Paige with a grin. “I think we should hug for sure. Anything else is too soon...like I said, we've spent three days together. I don't U-Haul.”

“Fine by me,” Paige says, looking far too comfortable as she walks through the airport. “Don't wanna do nothing you're uncomfortable with. Even if it would break the Internet. I know you like that shit.” Tess shrugs, but she was pleased with the media’s reaction so far. Between the two of them, Paige was definitely the menace and chaos-monger, although Tess enjoyed setting a fire once in a while. They finally reach Paige’s terminal and she leaves Tess’s side long enough to check in at the counter.

While she’s gone, a teenage girl approaches Tess with a shy expression, phone clutched in hand. “Excuse me, are you Tess Kennedy?” she asks.

“Guilty,” Tess jokes, leaning on her healthy leg.

“Do you mind if I get a picture?”

Tess shakes her head, saying, “Not at all,” as she moves to stand next to the girl. She angles the phone and Tess throws up a peace sign, grinning, and she snaps the photo. Before either of them can say anything else, Paige is walking back from the check in counter and the girl looks like she’s about to start doing cartwheels.

“Is that–”

“Unfortunately,” Tess sighs, which makes the girl laugh and Paige narrows her eyes. Remembering where they are, Tess smiles innocently.

“Can I get another picture with the both of you?”

Paige and Tess can’t resist. Paige rarely turns down her supporters in the first place, and all Tess can think about when she’s in these situations is all the times she’s ever met her idols and how it changed her life. Being in a situation to give back to the youth like that is one of the best parts about playing basketball. They pose on either side of the teenager as she takes the photo, and after quick hugs and a lot of gratitude, Paige and Tess are left alone.

Tess checks the time, realizing that Paige is boarding soon. The overhead PA confirms as much and Paige glances at Tess once more, hiking her carry-on bag higher on her shoulder. “You gonna miss me?” she asks teasingly, and Tess taps her chin, thinking.

“Hmm,” she ponders. “Not one bit.”

“You will,” Paige says confidently. “I got motion like that.” Tess rolls her eyes, unable to curb the warm fondness in her chest. She just pretends like it doesn’t exist. “Make sure you eat, alright? And go to PT. And be real with your therapist. Lemme hear you’re bein’ irresponsible and I’ll fly back down to set you straight.”

“Yes, Paige. Anything else?”

Paige shrugs, an easy smile on her face. “I know you pretend like you’ont like me, but I had fun with you. Even when you were mean.”

“Not mean,” Tess argues weakly. She can’t hide how touched she is by Paige’s words. “Just trying to keep your ego at a reasonable level.”

“Whatever you say, ma,” the blonde concedes. She opens her arms and Tess forgets all about the media, their story, whatever it is they’re supposed to be pretending to do as she wraps her arms around Paige’s waist. She could care less about the cameras, about the social media explosion they’re undoubtedly causing. Paige’s hands are warm on her back and her perfume makes Tess’s head spin. “Gimme a call if you need anything, I mean it. Don’t try to do this by yourself. Promise me.”

“Promise,” Tess vows. Paige pulls back ever so slightly, her eyes studying Tess’s face as her hands slide down her back, resting on her hips. Paige smiles at her and gives her a gentle squeeze before pulling away completely. She and Paige are both flushed, though the red creeping up Tess’s neck feels strangely like embarrassment.

“Call you when I land?” she asks quietly. Tess nods, forcing a smile, and they share their final goodbyes before Paige walks away.

Tess watches as she goes, suddenly hyper aware of the cameras and the crowd, and she holds back a sigh. She needs to get it together. None of that was real. She’s just a mess emotionally, touch-starved after a month-long crash out, and she’s letting it get to her head. She’ll feel more regulated after a nap and some stretches.

Hopefully.

[ledesaid]

Superjob 📦 

→→→→→→→→→→→→

In front of him, there is a sheet of paper. It is important, just like many things have been in his life.

It is a job application.

It's the second one he's submitted.

The first was for the Justice League, and technically speaking, he's still working there.

But now, he is officially a grown-up teenager, and he needs to take this big step.

He is not part of the great Wayne Enterprises, Queen Industries, or anything similar.

This, he has achieved on his own, and that makes it even more valuable.

"Radio WHIZ"

He will work as a junior assistant to the warehouse manager. It's not what he had expected, but the career path could lead him to an internship in the offices where the radio program is recorded.

Everything with patience... And speaking of that.

HR: Everything looks in order, you just need to write down your parents' phone numbers on form 15F to complete the paperwork.

Yes, things like this still follow him. It’s not easy to say he lives on his own, that the address he provided is one of the safe houses Red Robin lent him, or that the phone number he wrote on the record is registered under Clark Kent’s name...

But if there's one thing he is certain about, it's that he has friends who understand him and have given him ways to handle situations like this.

Billy: My family lives in different cities.

HR: No problem, kid.

Two names were written on the paper. The HR woman read them with a bit of surprise. If you were in the industry, it was mandatory to recognize those names.

HR: Bruce Wayne is your guardian?

Billy: I prefer to call him my emergency contact.

HR: And this Clark Kent… isn’t he the Clark Kent from The Daily Planet?

Billy: I also prefer to call him my emergency contact.

She seems to ignore what he says, but continues the conversation.

HR: Sorry for the question, but why are you applying for a job like this when you could be working with them?

Billy: Because I want to do this on my own, and I like this city.

HR: Kid, you have something special, I can feel it. And I know for a fact that Mr. Sterling Morris likes seeing that in people

She definitely confirmed the phone numbers after Billy left. Protocol required verifying the applicants’ information.

Can you imagine the surprise she felt when hearing the voices of the Bruce Wayne or the renowned reporter Clark Kent?

She couldn't believe it, it was them! And they accompanied him on his first day of work a week later.

---

[drdemonprince]

unsure if you have feedback on this but im constantly thinking of the conundrum that threatening suicide, even in 'parasuicidal' ways, is a cry for help that deserves compassion. but also that threats of self-harm legitimately are traumatic to live with longterm, to the point of being a well-recognized way to trap victims in abusive relationships. i don't think the 'well its not about you' approach is enough when theres partners legitimately developing PTSD-symptoms and unable to safely leave about it. but the 'standard advice' for this situation is heartless and dangerous, police and institutionalization and likely character assassination. to the point where you often cant seek help about it without mandatory reporters trying such a thing. it feels like such a hopeless catch-22 countless people go through all the time but im not sure what a constructive antipsych approach would be without completely disregarding one parties needs for the others

The most clarifying advice I have ever received on the subject is that if you are in a relationship with a person who is frequently threatening suicide, then you need to treat the situation as a pressing danger to your own safety. That's not intended to pathologize the suicidal person, or to make a case for turning them over to the police state, at all, but it is a call to make a plan for protecting oneself. Usually that means enlisting the help of other people. Normally I would caution against sharing another person's suicide ideation with others without their prior consent to do so, but if you are constantly living under the threat of a partner (especially a live-in partner) killing themselves, then you're kinda being psychologically terrorized and isolated by the situation, no matter if that's the suicidal person's intention, and that means you do have a right to ask for additional people to step in and help you. In that situation, I think you do need a place you can potentially escape to if needed, AND a support team for the suicidal person who can step in and be there for them so that you're not the only one keeping them alive. That is not a tenable state of affairs. Even all the big body-autonomy-affirming, harm reductionist guides to supporting a suicidal person emphasize this -- it is okay to tell the suicidal person that you cannot be their only support, and that they must have other people they will contact when needed if they want to get support from you. That's not an unreasonable ask. That's a boundary that helps keep everybody as alive as they wanna be. And if a suicidal person in your life will not respect that, and refuses to accept or seek help from literally anyone but you, then they are putting you in an impossible and potentially dangerous situation, and you gotta do what you need to protect yourself in that case.

[rohirric-hunter]

Tell us another story from your security guard days

You learned as a patroller (or any other position that actually worked in the location we were guarding) that the alarms never worked properly. However, the people in Security Control, who were supposed to remotely manage the alarms, believed wholeheartedly and blindly in their infallibility.

One day, while I was operating a metal detector out of the data center floor, a trained monkey (my semi-fond semi-condescending nickname for Google employees) came out of the data center and said, "There's a fire in there."

"Okay," I said. There was a patroller passing by at the moment, and I waved him over and asked him to go onto the DC floor to take care of the fire.

He looked at me like I was crazy and said, "What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Find out where it is?" I said. (The trained monkey did not know, and had apparently seen it some fifteen minutes prior and chosen to finish up whatever he was doing before going and alerting anyone else about it.) "Report it to the supervisor and ask him to call the fire department? Put it out, if it's small enough?"

"I don't know how to use a fire extinguisher," he said, which was an interesting thing for him to say considering every security guard there had mandatory annual fire extinguisher and first aid training.

"Okay," I said. "Then take over my post."

"I'm about to go to lunch," he said.

I picked up my radio and reported to the supervisor that he had taken over my post. (If the post was later found unattended it would be on him, at that point.) Then I went onto the DC floor.

The fire was not big, but it was loud, so I was able to find it without much trouble. One of the servers had caught on fire somehow. I called Security Control and told them there was a fire and where it was.

"No there isn't," Security Control said.

"Yes there is," I said.

"There are no alarms going off," Security Control said.

"There sure aren't," I said. "But I'm looking at a fire right now."

"There can't be a fire," Security Control said. "There's no alarm."

I put my radio back on my belt, deciding I had better deal with the problem before it got bigger, and quickly put the fire out (using my mandatory annual fire extinguisher training). Then I radioed my supervisor and reported the fire. Fortunately he was a cool guy who believed me and had my back about it and I got to listen to him chew out Security Control for the rest of the day about the alarm system and the seriousness of fires and the proper protocol for dealing with fires.

That's why you always always always back up anything you have stored on Google Drive or any of their other online storage services. Or like. Just don't use them at all.

[msschemmenti]

fun police - 2

eventual emily prentiss x reader / bau x reader

a/n: another fun police installment :)

everyone was in the office today, no one out on cases and this was going to be as good a time as any to introduce their new addition to the rest of the team. after some negotiating emily and y/n had scheduled their first session for tomorrow morning. she planned to say all the right things to get it over with and hopefully keep the young woman’s attention off of her for as long as possible.

“could you all join me at the roundtable?” emily called as she exited her office. y/n had found her way down to her office before everyone started filtering in and emily thought it best to ease them into this new idea.

“do we have a case?” tara asked looking from garcia to emily as they all sat around the table.

“no, we don’t. i just wanted to make you guys aware of a new thing happening.” emily vaguely said crossing her arms with a sigh.

“new thing? what does that mean?” jj asked suspiciously.

“well it seems our team has been flagged for our lack of self-care. i’m assuming they took a look at a variety of things like number of vacation days to working days, our case loads and things like that. and since we’ve been flagged, we’ve got the pleasure of a personal wellness agent who will be working with all of us to establish healthy coping mechanisms to rely on during tough times.”

the room was bathed in silence. shock washing over everyone’s faces and emily rubbed her temples in anticipation. she readied herself for the questions she could feel forming but was interrupted by a knock on the open doorway. she looked up and met y/n eyes.

“i see you’ve queued me up pretty nicely.” y/n smiled tentatively as she eyed the faces in the room.

“everyone, our personal wellness agent y/n y/ln. i’m sure she can explain a bit more about this process.” emily gestured welcoming the younger woman into the room.

“of course! hi everyone, as your lovely unit chief said my name is y/n and i’m here to help. i’ve been hired on to make sure that the most hardworking team in the FBI is taking care of themselves.”

“oh that’s nice.” garcia smiled at the praise.

“flattery will get you far with this group,” rossi mumbled from his seat.

y/n rolled her eyes humorously before continuing, “as i’ve explained to your section chief, i’ve found that for teams like this individual meetings or wellness sessions seem to work best. it’s completely up to you how we spend our time but we’ll be working toward building in self-care where you can.”

“and if we don’t want to participate? not in defiance or anything, i just think i’m pretty well adjusted.” tara asked crossing her arms.

“then i’d unfortunately have to do my least favorite part of this work, report my findings and determine who is and is not fit for the field. and i’d really hate to do that.” y/n smiled sweetly causing the room of agents to groan. “no need to sound so excited. we’ll do whatever you like, you just gotta spend a lil time with me.”

“how soon can we get this over with?” rossi asked.

“we can start as soon as you like, except for tomorrow morning. that slot’s already been claimed.” y/n gestures to emily with a smirk.

“ohhh,” the agents choruses teasingly, causing emily’s cheeks to heat.

“alright alright, now you know. i expect you all to cooperate.” emily dismissed and headed back toward her office.

“i’m just down the hall if anyone feels compelled to come chat.” y/n grinned and waved before heading back down to her office. leaving the group of profilers more than a little irritated.

“well this sucks.” luke grumbled. “mandatory wellness time. is spending time with roxie not enough?”

“afraid not newbie. you all having to do this doesn’t surprise me, i don’t get why i have to do it. i’m probably the most zen person in this whole building. i prioritize me almost 75% of the time now. i’m very well thank you very much.” garcia rambled.

“do you think she’d accept me asking to take a nap in her presence as my wellness session?” tara asked the group.

jj shook her head at the groups adamant distaste for the new setup, “oh come on guys, it can’t be that bad. i mean she got emily to agree. and of all of us— she’s the least likely to take a even a minute for herself.”

“you’re right jj, but im not sure she agreed solely for the health benefits if you know what i mean.” rossi hinted.

“oh yeah, i’ve got a feeling she was thinking with more than just her brain.” tara nodded in rossi’s direction.

“emily being seduced into participation?” garcia gasped, scolding the profilers.

“can you blame her? we all saw our wellness agent right?” jj asked with a knowing shrug. “i’m just saying, we should all suck it up and do our little wellness sessions. it could be fun, who knows.”

“well wants first? i mean second…” garcia asked looking around the table.

“why don’t you go miss ‘im the most zen in this whole building’? should be pretty easy for you.” luke teased.

“i know you’re being annoying but i don’t care. i will go second and ill make a chart to keep track of the schedule.” garcia glared.

“great, im sure y/n would love that.” tara smiled with a shake of her head.

-

her session came a bit sooner than she would’ve liked. but she’d prepared for this mentally. anticipated all the questions y/n might ask and gone through the appropriate answers that would eliminate the need for this to happen again. she’d told y/n to meet her in her office similarly to how she did her first day. starting her morning being interrogated wasn’t ideal but it definitely didn’t hurt that y/n was…attractive. but that wasn’t important and she was trying very very hard to remember that when the younger woman knocked on the door frame of her office.

“ready to get started?” emily quickly, motioning for y/n to step into her office.

“wow, not even a good morning? you’re failing already, section chief prentiss.” y/n tsked as she sauntered over to the couch in the office.

emily gaped at the woman getting comfortable on her couch. “i’m failing already? doesn’t sound like you have high hopes for this at all.”

y/n didn’t even flinch at emily’s accusatory tone, “i’ve read your file. my expectations for your self-care practices are pretty low. now let’s get started, come relax on this nice couch so we can chat.”

“i’m relaxed plenty over here. start your questioning.” emily refused, straightening her back defiantly.

y/n eyed emily, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “if that’s relaxed, what does it mean to you as an individual to relax? define it in your own terms for me. because i’ll be honest— you don’t look relaxed at all.”

emily scoffed indignantly, “i know how to relax,”

“i didn’t say you didn’t, but im just curious. just humor me, what does emily prentiss do to relax?”

“i relax. i nap. a warm shower is always nice. i eat. i read. i do very relaxing things.” emily listened.

“almost everything you just listed is a basic necessity. and im struggling to believe you’re picking up a romance novel instead of a case file.” y/n spoke eyeing the older woman and when emily only grumbled y/n chuckled and continued. “how do cope with stress?”

“perfectly fine-ly.” emily quipped.

“uh huh, let me guess. a bottle of wine stashed in a drawer somewhere. and when you’re really struggling— puff through a pack of cigarettes?” y/n guessed and watched as emily tried to mask her facial reactions. she may not be a profiler but she had lots of experience reading clients for filth when it came to taking care of themselves.

“uh-“ emily started but the red of her cheeks was all y/n needed to know.

“okay, i have another questions. what activities bring you enjoyment?”

emily’s eyes raked over y/n involuntarily, and she found a way she’d be able to take back some control of the situation. “i don’t think that’s appropriate for work.” emily smirked.

“oh ho ho, i see agent prentiss. and how often do you do this task?”

“probably more than you can think of.” emily bluffed and ran her hands through her hair.

y/n’s eyebrow seemed permanently posed under her eyebrow at this point. this woman was going to do anything she could to get out of this. and as stubborn as emily was, she was just as frustratingly beautiful. “ah now agent prentiss, i thought you of all people would know not to judge someone by their looks. trust me, im well acquainted with the task you’re alluding to.”

and just like that— the ball was back in y/n’s court and emily was a blushing mess. also didn’t help that as soon as that image was in her head, that’s all she could really think about.

as y/n watched emily rub her reddened neck nervously, y/n chuckled sweetly and rose from the couch. “you know what, this was a very informative chat. same time next week?”

“next week?” emily squeaked.

“yeah, hun. next week. i’m gonna give you some homework too. next time we meet, i want you to have done at least four things to relax that aren’t basic needs.”

“homework?” emily spluttered in disbelief.

“yeah. if you’re good, there might’ve been a prize waiting for you.” y/n teased before heading out of emily’s office. “four things agent! just four.” y/n called over her shoulders as she headed out of the bullpen.

well that certainly didn’t go as well as emily had planned.

[bennyboyfics]

Ben Shelton X tennis player reader and they’re enemies to lovers type thing???

Enemies to lovers || Ben Shelton x tennis player!reader

A/n: sorry this has been sitting in my drafts for so long 🫢

Wc: 1,546

Warnings: enemies to lovers tension

MASTERLIST

-

You first met Ben Shelton when you were eighteen—bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, and freshly transitioned from juniors into the WTA tour. He’d already started making a name for himself on the men’s side, loud-mouthed, cocky, and irritatingly good. You hated him instantly.

It wasn’t just his confidence. It was the way he strutted around with his chest puffed out like he owned every court he stepped on. The way he smiled at reporters like he had the whole world in his back pocket. And most of all, it was the fact that he never looked at you like you were a real threat. Not once.

The first time you interacted was at a joint press conference after both of you had advanced to the quarterfinals in Australia. Your chair was unfortunately next to his. Ben leaned toward you mid-interview, grinning. “Not bad for a rookie.” You gave him a saccharine smile, laced with venom. “You’d know all about peaking early, wouldn’t you?”

Reporters laughed. Ben’s brow arched slightly, surprised. You didn’t let him recover—crossing your legs, adjusting your mic, and answering the next question with practiced ease. From then on, it was war.

-

Ben Shelton was always around. If not practicing on the courts next to you, then floating around your physio sessions, giving you a smug smirk every time you passed him in the hall.Your coach started noticing the tension. “Ignore him,” they said. “He’s all noise.” And he was. Except that noise had started to creep under your skin.

Every time he hit one of those monstrous serves, it echoed in your head. Every time he gave a post-match interview talking about grit and passion, you wanted to roll your eyes hard enough to dislodge them. He gave you a wink across the players’ lounge one day while you were watching film. “Enjoying the show?” he called.

“I’ve seen better technique from my twelve-year-old cousin.” He placed a hand over his chest, mock-wounded. “You wound me, princess.” You didn’t speak to him again until the US Open—mandatory doubles exhibition matches where players were paired at random for fan engagement. You’d been half-joking when you prayed not to get stuck with Ben.

But the tennis gods had a twisted sense of humour. You read the schedule in silence.

Mixed Doubles: Shelton/Y/l/n vs. Tsitsipas/Pegula.

“No,” you muttered. “No, no, no.” “Looks like we’re finally teaming up,” Ben said from behind you, sipping a protein shake. “Try not to fall in love with me mid-rally.” “I’d rather forfeit.” But you didn’t. Because you were nothing if not professional.

Which was more than you could say for him. He showed up to your first practice five minutes late, tossing his bag on the court with a grin. “You ready to carry me?” he asked. “I’d rather carry a sprained ankle.” Practice was a disaster. You bickered over strategy, positioning, even who should serve first.

But despite the constant jabs and snark, something clicked. His forehand complemented your backhand. Your serve set up his volleys perfectly. It was infuriating. And when you won that match in straight sets—your chemistry undeniable—you didn’t celebrate. You just turned to him and muttered, “Don’t let it go to your head.”

But the way he smiled at you—genuine, a little surprised—it stuck with you longer than it should have.

-

“Ben and I are just…opposites,” you said tightly, refusing to look at him. “It works for now.” He cut in smoothly. “She’s the fire, I’m the ice. Or maybe it’s the other way around.” You gave him a sharp look. He gave you a shrug, clearly enjoying this. That night, you got a text.

Ben: Dinner tomorrow. We need to talk tactics.

You: We already won.

Ben: Come on. It’s just dinner. I won’t bite.

You: That’s disappointing.

You weren’t sure why you went. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the way he looked at you during your match—not like an enemy, but like someone he respected. Maybe it was the fact that, for all your annoyance, he was kind of charming when he wasn’t being a total ass.

Dinner was surprisingly…easy. He told you about his dad, his journey into tennis, his hatred of early mornings. You told him about your strict training, the pressure of being the youngest in your family, your dream of winning Wimbledon since you were five. He listened. Really listened. You walked back to the hotel with your heart beating a little too fast.

He stopped outside your room, hands in his pockets. “Guess you’re not as unbearable as I thought.” You arched a brow. “You’re still just as arrogant as I expected.” But you didn’t slam the door in his face. Not this time.

-

Everything shifted in California. You were both scheduled to play on adjacent courts again—quarterfinals day. You lost in a brutal three-set match. The worst part? You played well. You gave it everything. It just wasn’t enough. Ben found you behind the practice courts afterward, still in your kit, your racquet bag at your feet. You didn’t even look up.

He sat beside you in silence for a few seconds. “You played your heart out,” he said finally. “Didn’t matter.” “It did to me.” You turned, startled by the softness in his voice. He wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t teasing. Just…there. “You deserved that win,” he said. “More than anyone.” It cracked something open inside you.

A dam of frustration and exhaustion and grief. “I’m tired,” you whispered. “I know.” He reached out, tentative, brushing his fingers against yours. You didn’t pull away. From that day, the dynamic shifted. You were still rivals, still snarky. But the lines blurred. He sat in your player box during your next match. You cheered a little too loudly at his comeback win.

Rumours started. Photos. Whispers. Headlines.“Rivals to Romance? Shelton and Y/l/n Spark Dating Buzz After Training Sighting” You both denied it. Publicly, at least. But privately? Late-night texts turned into early-morning coffee runs. Mocking turned into lingering glances. And one night—after you both crashed out of Rome early—you found yourselves walking the streets, gelato in hand, laughing about everything and nothing.

“I used to hate you,” you said. Ben grinned. “I know. It was kind of hot.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re unbearable.” He stepped closer. “But you don’t hate me now.” “No,” you admitted quietly. “I don’t.” He kissed you under a streetlight, soft and slow and sure. Like he’d been waiting. Like he knew.

-

A year after it all began, you were both in the finals—your matches hours apart. He won his first Grand Slam. You were waiting just off the tunnel, heart in your throat, tears in your eyes. He pulled you into his arms, racket still in hand, sweat pouring down his back. “I fucking did it,” he murmured against your hair. “You deserve it,” you whispered.

Later, he stood in your box as you fought for your own title. Screamed for you. Cursed under his breath. Clapped until his palms went red. And when you lifted that trophy, you looked to him first. The same boy who once called you princess like it was an insult. Now holding your hand in the locker room like it was his lifeline.

[tallerthantale]

Neil and Amanda's Fake Therapist

I originally gathered information relating to Neil's fake therapist in a bit of a messy hyperfocus flurry that included some initial errors, followed by various erratic updates, so I wanted to put the main points together into one coherent place. Some of what I'm putting together here was found by others on the subreddit post.

I once again find myself skirting the edges of my typical rules for myself about analyzing public figures, so disclaimer: this is personal opinion, I'm not scientifically or clinically evaluating anyone based off public appearances / statements, I am commenting on what personal impression I am getting off things, and leaving most speculation about internal states out.

Man does this guy make it hard to stick to that though.

The person I'm talking about here is the supposed 'therapist' that Scarlett interacted with while Neil was (allegedly) pressuring her to say the allegations weren't true. His behavior there (with a paper trail according to Tortoise), and what I was able to gather from Amanda Palmer's podcast made it clear to me that he was not operating within the acceptable behaviour of a therapist, so I decided to see if I could prompt a review of his license. All indications at this time are that he does not have one. But it gets worse.

He claims to be a minister, but like the therapist claim cites no qualifications or organizations in his website's bio. This combination of therapist who isn't a therapist and minister who isn't a minister potentially creates a legal nightmare scenario. I am not a lawyer, this is not legal advice, but I'm going to give you my best estimate of the situation, which has involved looking up the law and reading some cases.

As long as he isn't claiming to be a mental health professional, he may be protected in calling himself a nonspecific 'therapist.' He can probably argue it as some kind of spiritual therapy. But because he isn't actually a mental health care provider, he is not subject to mandatory reporting. Generally therapists have a legal obligation to proactively report when someone is a danger to themselves or others. He does not have that requirement. He isn't bound by professional ethics, since he is not a member of any organizations and has no licenses. Moreover, it seems to be the case in New Mexico that if a person reasonably believes you to be a minister, that kicks in clergy-penitent privilege whether or not you actually are a minister.

The origin concept of clergy-penitent privilege is that the law cannot force a priest to reveal what was said to them in confession. The First Amendment means all religions get it equally and it doesn't have to be part of a specific Catholic ritual. In New Mexico, it covers anything that was not said publicly or intended to be passed on regardless of the surrounding context. That means anything said to or by this guy that is not said in public or explicitly intended to be forwarded cannot be used by the legal system for any purpose, no matter how documented or incriminating it is to the client or to him personally. There is no mechanism to remove that privilege form him for being misused because it is derived from his representation of himself as a minister, not his actual status.

According to his linkdin he received a Bachelors degree in creative writing from the University of Rochester, in New York. He then got a Masters degree in Divinity in Organizations from Harvard Divinity School, 1982-1985. These are the only points of education claimed anywhere we have seen. He lists no psychology or mental health qualification anywhere, and is most known as an author. His bookselling success might be due to a claimed promotional appearance on Oprah.

His personal webpage has a long 'client list' or list of 'collaborators' who have hosted speaking engagements. This list was last updated in 2012. The events on his calendar page have no year. I think I recall seeing a section of his website that was only accessible to those who were 'fully committed,' or something like that, but it doesn't seem to be there now. It's possible I'm misremembering, it's possible it got taken down when the reddit thread got popular, I don't have the right skillset to check. He won an award from the Institute of Noetic Sciences, which looks to be engaging in pseudo scientific spirituality in a manner similar to Scientology.

From what I can gather from the video's I've watched, the advice he 'preaches' is a mish mash of bits and pieces of metaphors and perspectives from a variety of religions and philosophies that he probably didn't fully understand. (My speculation.) There are pieces of genuine insight that are lifted from others and that can give the impression he knows what he is talking about to vulnerable people even if he doesn't really understand them himself. He doesn't seem to have any genuine religious beliefs or connections to any religious congregation or organizations. It is unclear if he is or is not technically ordained, but that is something anyone can just do online, and he doesn't even claim it.

Particularly noticeable in his talks are traces of Jungian psychoanalysis (which is the nonsense Jordan Peterson seems to have got caught up in, and it has antisemitic and fascist origins) some Buddhist resilience concepts that have been misused by westerners a lot, and Christian (I think) concepts about universal love and togetherness. They end up mashed together into a message that I believe will influence most victims who hear it to blame themselves and remain in toxic situations, while making perpetrators feel better about continuing to perpetrate. Not saying that was the goal, but if a person had that goal, this patchwork philosophy is what you would put together to achieve it. I'm not going to be specific because I don't want to be like, putting out a guide for people on how to do this.

Amanda says she met the guy before she had a child, but after she was married. That is somewhere between 2011 and 2015. Amanda says she met him at something resembling a TED conference, where all sorts of people got together to do various (rich people nonsense.) She had a mental breakdown in a horse paddock, and the fake therapist was the guy with the horse, teaching about horse whispering.

"And since then, he’s been my therapist, and he’s also become a true friend, to me, and to my family, and to many other people in my life that he’s taken on, and helped out, in some of their darkest hours of need, and he is my emergency phone call. And in a way, he sort of picked up where Anthony, my old mentor, left off, and I don’t find it a coincidence that Wayne walked into my life right around the time Anthony walked out. "

This is not what a therapist does, this is cult leader behaviour. This is pure speculation on my part, but I wonder if Neil might have known him first and orchestrated their meeting. He is an author with connections to an organization similar to Scientology. It might actually not be a coincidence. Again, pure speculation.

Amanda describes seeking advice from him whenever she was having trouble with Neil, and that talking to him would make her feel like everything was fine again. "Even just to have someone to talk to, to remind me what I’m struggling with, what’s going on, what is home, why does this feel so disorienting, what am I doing? And I can say right now, when I shifted my internal feeling within myself, within my relationship with Neil, around where I was, my feeling in my own house transformed. Because I went, oh, right, none of this fucking matters."

In June 2019 Amanda Palmer has the Portland, OR incident where she tells her fans they need to forgive their r@#ists.

In 2019 the fake therapist did a series of webcasts with The Santa Fe Center for Spiritual Healing over a few months. At times he is titled "Rvrd", and at times he is titled "Dr." there is no reason to believe he is either. In the first one, the host reads a bio she found online, that she says he asked her not to read (she appears to think he was being humble.) This version of the bio claims that he was a Senior Scholar at the Fetzer Institute. When he comes on after she read it, he makes odd comments about whoever might be watching the video online and appears very shaken. The Fetzer Institute has no mention of him on their website. That connection is not listed in his current bio.

In his last video for the Santa Fe Center he claims to be working on an upcoming project in D.C. with a co-facilitator who was famous for brokering a truce between the crips and bloods. He also comes across like he has been asked to stop working with the center and is being super passive aggressive about it. (My speculation.)

His appearance on Amanda Palmer's podcast is recorded in July 2019, about a month after the last Santa Fe Center webcast, in upstate New York. In the descriptor she says it was recorded after a week long retreat with him she set up for 60 of her Patrion supporters. There is a nearly two year gap between the recording and posting, which is not explained. She describes him as a minister, therapist, leadership mentor, and her personal therapist. In the episode itself, she also describes him as her and Neil's relationship therapist. In the description she promotes his books and his website, and says he is still readily contactable there, but to be patient right now because he is mid move. (The description was posted when the podcast was posted, in 2021. As mentioned earlier, there are features of his website that have not been updated since 2012.)

The fake therapist tweeted about Neil being a 'dear friend' in late 2020. He has under 100 followers, not really what you would expect for a best selling author / therapist / minister / community leader / mentor / horse whisper. While I make references to cult leader behaviour, a genuine cult leader would probably have a larger following. But somehow I don't think he lacks for money. I expect there is a market for pseudo-therapists you can freely talk to about the crimes you are actively committing. You can even involve him in the crime, and it still privileged.

The events of Scarlett's allegations date to 2022, about a year after Amanda posted the podcast episode. Sometime in March is when Neil manipulates Scarlett into saying the allegations are false with what is essentially a su!c!de threat, then asks her to repeat her assurances that it was consensual to the fake therapist. Amanda had recently received a scorching message from one of Scarlett's friends about what was done to her. It seems like Neil is doing this to win a fight with Amanda in their "relationship therapy." Scarlett gets a message from the fake therapist.

Tortoise describes it as him "saying he'd be happy to speak to her in complete confidence because he had heard that she found herself in his words 'in the midst of relationships, stories and narratives, not alas necessarily of your own making. Sadly, this is not a surprise. Two creative dynamic people can easily draw others into their orbit unaware of how powerfully the magnetic pull of their influences can have on others.'"

My perception of this message is that it plants the suggestion to Scarlett that her friends are brainwashing her to think she was r@ped by pulling her into 'narratives not of her own making.' I could see how people might interpret the later lines regarding magnetic pull as being about accidental power dynamics abuse, but I read it more as him saying Scarlett's friends are opportunistic manipulators looking to make a name for themselves by taking down a famous person.

Either way, there are a considerable number of things happening there that an actual therapist would not ever do, for a variety of very good reasons. Tortoise's attempt to call him to ask for comment was thwarted by the fact that his phone has been specifically programed not to accept voicemails. Not like, the voicemail box was full or something, he went out of his way to do that. Which means Tortoise can't quite claim that he didn't respond to requests to comment, because they couldn't leave a message. Other organizations probably run into similar difficulties establishing evidence that they have contacted him. It's not a smoking gun, but I don't like it.

A year later Amanda Palmer makes her post on the Russel Brand allegations, where she argues the solution to serial predatory behaviour is to try to get them to stop doing "stupid shit" by trying to heal their lacking and fear with love and compassion and forgiveness, because that the ONLY cause / motivation for abusive behavior. And some unarticulated hope for non-specific accountability vibes.

This post looks to me like the perspective of a person who has been continuously exploited, and manipulated into thinking it is their personal responsibility to heal people who have no interest in being healed. It reads to me like a person who has been justifying staying in a toxic situation to themself so long it has warped their entire worldview. It reads to me like the inevitable end result of this fake therapists preaching.

I don't think that absolves her of what ever her role has been in facilitating access to victims, or actively promoting these views to her audience, but it is something to keep in mind.

There is a broad rage of possibilities for what is going on with this guy. The spectrum runs from deeply misguided fool to deliberately exploitative criminal. Either way it looks like he is charging people money for the service of turning them into the "this is fine" dog. This is not fine. This is not ok. Unfortunately it probably is legal.

[hijinxinprogress]

YJ being awful at sharing things (mostly bc they’re used to handling things themselves bc there was no one for them to depend on during their childhood)

YJ is great at subterfuge and lying but they keep unnecessary things on a need-to-know basis like their favorite colors so when people are like “why didn’t you tell me?? I can help! I hope you know you can come to me if you need anything” and yj responds like a stray animal being shown affection for the first time “with what?? nothing’s wrong…go away…” but they’re always injured or about to be whether it’s physical or psychological 

Cissie didn’t tell anyone she was allergic to walnuts until Oliver almost killed her at a mandatory family dinner (they also didn’t know she was in the Olympics or dating Kon until they were cornered by reporters in public who wanted to know if Kon was aware she had a relationship with Oliver Queen) (Roy had a very one sided beef with Kon for about three weeks once he saw the interviews)

Yj is outed for smoking when Bart gets caught with weed and the jl (mostly Barry) are lecturing him about the dangers of marijuana and Wally’s yelling bc they thought it was the titans smoking while bart just shrugs and he’s like “I thought you knew, it’s not like we were hiding it” they call a meeting w/ yj but Cissie’s just like “I mean what are you gonna do about it? You’re a couple years too late to be concerned” and behind them, an irritated Kon passes a handful of bills to a smug Anita

Or Tim’s been stabbed for the 5th time this week (and didn’t tell anyone bc he’s Tim) Cassie tries to hand him tequila and Bart looks at them like they’re stupid “he can’t drink that” and dicks in the background “no he can’t bc he’s literally a baby and so are all of you!!” and Anita reaches over to Kon who’s not paying attention and he’s like “yeah, rob got stabbed like an hour ago and didn’t say anything bc he’s a squirrelly little shit” and dick launches himself across the room holding 17 medical packs (he was supposed off planet for the next three months)

Diana hears yj refer to Cassie with they/them pronouns and pulls them aside to ask if they want to change their name (hero and civilian) and why they didn’t feel comfortable sharing their identity with her and Cassie just goes “I didn’t think it was a big deal”

Most people think that Anita’s raising her children so older heroes with make comments about her being too young to be a parent or being irresponsible for being a parent so young along with how it makes them unable to trust her judgment as a hero (Steph once made an offhanded comment about Anita being a real hero for raising twins after she cussed out an older hero) but no one outside of yj learns the truth until dr. fate shows up talking about irreparable damage being done to the timeline (the nearest speedster gets dirty looks despite not being at fault this time)

Yj invites Greta to the watchtower and she meets Constantine who starts going on about her being death-touched, possessed, and rambling about dark magic so he ends up calling the rest of jl dark which is how the jl finds out about Secret years after the fact

Kon casually makes jokes about Lex’s attempts on his life, Lex and Clark attempting to win him over to get one over on each other, Lex or Clark disliking him, his death, and the period of time Kon was homeless which is usually how anyone outside of yj finds out about things going on in his life

The jl loses their shit when they learn how often yj hide each other in their homes when they don’t have anywhere else to go (batman buys trackers in bulk when he finds out Tim has a secret house) 

[sysakiddo]

1,2,3,4,5

To add insult to injury, 007 is already in his office when he opens the door. To his credit, Max only skips a beat before moving again. 

Daniel is holding a prototype of a new grenade Max’s been working on in his hands. 

“Don’t touch that,” Max barks out and Daniel smirks. “In fact, don’t touch anything in here.” 

Daniel has his feet on Max’s desk, the leather of the shoes glimmering in the bright light. “I didn’t even touch anything,” he drawls, which makes Max sigh. He knows Daniel touched all of the weapons in the room the second he entered it. Agents are predictable like that. 

“Who let you in?” 

Daniel shrugs, tossing the grenade from one hand to another. Max is ready to fight him. It must show on his face because Daniel yields without him saying anything else. “It was the new guy.” 

Max opens the door again and yells an angry “Liam!” tapping his foot impatiently. He should have already checked his messages four minutes ago. 

Daniel makes a face and says under his breath, “not good, not good,” but to be completely honest, he is glad he escaped Q’s wrath. For now. 

The new guy shows up and immediately gets pale when he sees the mood Max is in. 

“You can’t let strangers into my office without me. That’s honestly unacceptable and if it happens again, I won’t have no choice but to report it.” 

Liam gulps, trying to find a good enough excuse not to get fired. “I am sorry, I thought, well - He is your agent. He told me you were expecting him.” 

Your agent. Max wills down the electricity that runs through him. 

“And you trusted him? Honestly, I am disappointed. That will be everything.” He turns around and closes the door again. Daniel expected him to make him stand up from his own chair, but Max surprises him by plopping down on the chair across from him, which is meant for the visitors.

Max doesn’t say anything else, just focuses on massaging his forehead, where he has been feeling a throbbing pain since he woke up. 

“That was brutal, Q.” 

Max huffs. “Well, maybe his day would have been nicer if you didn’t fuck him over,” 

Daniel’s smile is so sharp it looks macabre. “I want to return to the field,”

The blonde tries to calculate if he can take another pain medication so early after the previous one. “Splendid, did you just return from the centre? I haven’t received the certificate yet, that’s weird. I’ll call them,”

Daniel is quiet for a beat too long, and it makes Max look up from his phone. 

“I’ve done them a week ago,” 

Max has seen the results. He has barely passed the physicals, limited rotation in his wrist, it said. He completely failed his psych evaluation, post-traumatic stress disorder, major depressive disorder, insomnia. Agent referred to therapy and not allowed to carry out any tasks until further evaluation. 

The note next to Daniel’s photo at the top of the document was blaring red. 

“Yeah, go there again, you know the procedure,” Max rolls his eyes. Daniel is not a rookie and he is making him lose time. 

He is still holding the damn grenade. “I’m not going to pass them,” 

Max shrugs, “Nice, paid vacation,” he says, like he hasn’t checked if Daniel has already visited the mandatory therapy sessions. He would rather die than watch Daniel become as broken as Sebastian is. “Now, if you excuse me, but some of us don’t have that and need actually to work, so like - fuck off, yeah?” 

“Q, I said I want to get back,” 

The throbbing behind his eyes is slowly blinding him. He is pretty sure he tastes copper on his tongue. “And I said come back when the med teams clear you. What does that have to do with me?” 

Daniel clicks his tongue, his hold on the grenade steady. “Well, for one, you are my quartermaster. You are also the only person who can fake the clearance.” 

The worst thing is that Max feels like he should have predicted this. He should have known. 

“I’m going to report you to your superior officer,” he says, voice like ice. Max regrets getting out of bed today.

Daniel’s right eye twitches. “I dare you to knock on M’s door right now.” 

Daniel noticed Max’s contempt for the older man a long time ago. He secretly thinks it’s because M doesn’t let him test his gadgets on mice. 

Truthfully, Max thinks it all started when Lewis took away his lion plushie when he was 10, claiming it was too childish. 

“I want to get back,” Daniel says again. “We need to finish this,” 

Max is so tired. “What’s in it for me? Why would I endanger my agent?” 

“Q, you are not finding him without me,” 

Max averts his gaze and huffs out a puff of air. “006 has actually done a good job-” 

“It’s not good enough, we both know it.” Daniel finally puts the grenade on the table. “Meet me at nine, we have to talk this through somewhere that’s not here,”

Max did his own mandatory six-month health check-up just a few weeks ago. The psychiatrist made him do word associations at the end of the session. He did well, like always.

But then the shrink said weak and the first thing that came to his mind was me.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hello! 👋👋

I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could write something romantic between a farmer that suffers fainting from low blood pressure with the sdv bachelors + mr qi, pretty please?

Hey hey 👋

I've already closed the requests, but I got your question before my askbox was closed! Thank you for your ask, dear anon, and enjoy! 😊💕

_________________________________________

Bachelors (+Mr. Qi) x Farmer who fainted from low blood pressure:

Harvey:

Harvey rushed faster than a bullet, when, picking up the phone call, he heard Marlon's voice, which only said: "There's Farmer-" Not another word - the first-aid kit in hand, and quickly to the Mines!

Hadn't the doctor told his spouse not to overdo in their adventures, or they'd faint again from physiological hypotension!

Good thing Harvey knew this in advance, and was able to immediately provide the necessary care and help Farmer get home.

Not once did he say "I told you so!", but just ran around his dear lover like a mama hen, carefully helping them recover.

No overexertion, mandatory rest, and proper diet, not cakes and coffee! Doctor's orders! Otherwise Harvey will use his secret weapon against the most difficult patient in his life - he'll cry he'll do the "stern look." Harvey loves Farmer a lot, but they nearly scare him to death.

Alex:

Everything happened so suddenly that Alex barely had time to react and catch Farmer in his arms, so that they did not fall on the ground.

The athlete is in complete shock: first his lover was standing next to him, chatting and laughing at his jokes, and now - they are unconscious in Alex's strong hands.

Half a minute of panic, but he immediately picked up Farmer bride-style and ran towards the Clinic, shouting about the emergency. Alex nearly ran over Maru and stunned Harvey with his call because Farmer is dying!

About an hour in and Farmer is fine, the doctor explained that their blood pressure had dropped and it was a side effect of the phytotherapy that Farmer was practicing, brewing potions from the local gifts of nature.

So now, almost all the potions ended up being poured down the sink, and Alex began to seriously monitor Farmer's health, reminding them to rest and follow a healthy lifestyle with him. As well as taking proven medicines, not decoctions of purple mushrooms.

Elliott:

"Don't forget to drink the water." "Honey, did you drink the water?" "Are you going on an adventure? Don't forget the water bottle." "Honey, you sure are exhausted in the field, have some cool water." "You need water?"

Elliott will definitely ask his spouse three times during the day if they've drunk enough water today. The poet and before that always watched to make sure his dear spouse didn't overwork themself, naturally.

But he became fixated because of the fact that Farmer had passed out right in front of him, leaving Elliott utterly confused and panicked. Harvey reported that their blood pressure was very low and the cause was severe dehydration. Farmer just forgot...

And now the ginger poet has almost become fixated on water because he doesn't want to see the love of his life in a fainting state anymore. It's a good thing he was around, what if it had been Mines? Farmer still feels some guilt over the awkward incident, and Elliott himself doesn't want to be bothered with overprotective behavior after all, but just remember to have a drink, okay?

Sam:

When Sammy decided to please Farmer with new issues of the comic book they were just crazy about, he didn't think his lover would literally faint from happiness. But the young musician realized that it was not an overabundance of happiness, but something very serious.

It was good that the clinic was not far away, and Sam, with the help of Pelican Town residents passing by, was able to get Farmer to one of the rooms, where the doctor came running immediately to help.

Sam was nearby, worried, not knowing what to think. Is Farmer going to be all right? Did he need to do anything? He could quickly supply what Harvey needed, just tell him what to do!

But all it took from Sammy was to be there for Farmer (of course he wouldn't leave his love!) and listen to the instruction on what hypotension was and how to give Farmer help. Sam even wrote it all down in his notebook so he wouldn't forget, and he wouldn't let it happen again.

Shane:

Shane's morning didn't start with a cup of coffee, but with running around the house trying to find the damn first aid kit. His spouse just steeled themself from the bed - and fell over with a rock, causing Shane to jump at the sound like scalded boiling water.

First aid administered, Farmer back on the couch, already conscious, and Shane, finally finding that damn first aid kit, treated the scratches that his spouse had gotten from the fall.

It's a good thing the chicken man was prepared for this in advance (thanks, Harv), because it's not the first time Farmer has passed out from a rapid drop in blood pressure. And their abrupt transition from lying down to an upright position was to blame.

"Jumped up like a goat for a game work, heh? Too excited?" A tired Shane lay down next to Farmer when he was sure they were okay and kissed them on the cheek.

Sebastian:

Sebastian literally turned away for a second, and suddenly heard the sound of falling tools, his lover on the floor. You could tell that the emo's heart stopped beating with horror.

Thankfully, he wasn't home alone, and quickly carried Farmer from the garage to the couch while his mother Robin looked for a first aid kit.

No serious injuries, just a little bruise on their right arm from the fall, Sebby sighed in relief as he sat on the couch and stroked the waking Farmer's head.

He'd be a little bit barking at himself for thinking he hadn't noticed Farmer's premise that their blood pressure had dropped, to which his lover would quickly shush him.

At least everyone's okay, but damn, what a scary moment it was to the point of.... Because the garage is full of sharp and blunt objects, and if Farmer had fallen on one of them...

Mr. Qi:

"Even heroes have to know their limits," Qi thought, shaking his head as he approached Farmer who lay unconscious on the grass. His mind replayed a moment from the past when his lover had shared a bit of their medical history about chronic low blood pressure, but assured the mystical man that they were fine and it wouldn't affect their assignments.

It really wouldn't have been affected if his stubborn hero wasn't constantly trying to bite off more than they could swallow. Complete one task - a well-deserved rest, rather than going, exhausted, to the next.

Farmer woke up lying on a velvet couch, with a round table with medicine and a glass of cool water next to it. They carefully stood up, and saw their lover, Mr. Qi, sitting in the chair next to them, whose gaze was impossible to see because of the thick lenses of his violent glasses.

"I think we have something to discuss." From the tone of voice, Farmer was relieved to realize that Qi wasn't angry with them, only worried. But talking about wiser decisions in the name of preserving their health was indeed necessary.

[margotw10bis]

Crashing On Crush.JJK [m] 9

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 5k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: pure angst; drugs (please, if you have addiction problems get some help, you are strong enough 🤍); fingering; praising kink; oral sex (m. receiving)

previous ← 9 → next

Jungkook met Mina when they were twelve, in middle school. It didn't take long for them to become best friends, enjoying spending their after-school time at the bookshop, reading mangas. At first, it was just friendship, the best kind of friendship actually. Back then, everything was simply perfect. But things changed in high school.

Jungkook knew that things at home weren't great for Mina: her dad just lost his job and started drinking alcohol pretty much everyday. That's why Mina used to go to Jungkook's after class, avoiding as much as she could her own home where she didn't feel safe.

However, gradually, Mina spent less time at Jungkook's. She even spent less time with Jungkook, period. Jungkook, on the other hand, noticed some changes in Mina: she was less cheerful, she lost weight and she was less happy. It was like she didn't feel anything at all. She also didn't go to class anymore. The truth is that Jungkook felt like he was loosing her and that terrified him. So he started hanging with the same people as Mina, not good people.

One day, Jungkook witnessed Mina inhaling a strange white powder. He screamed at her, telling her that she was crazy. Mina would have cried if she wasn't amorphous but that's exactly what she wanted: not to feel the pain, not to feel anything. She told her bestfriend that all the darkness around her was too much to bare so what's wrong to not suffer for a few hours? Jungkook did try to reason her out but she didn't listen. She ended up telling: 'rather you're with me, rather you leave me but you can't stay in the middle'.

Jungkook didn't think much. He actually loved Mina and he knew she loved him too. So he started using. How could this white powder be such a big deal? At first, ketamine was good. Really good actually. Jungkook felt like everything around him was far away and he could just stay there, in peace. But then, he begun to feel bad if he wasn't using. He wasn't taking K for Mina anymore, but for himself.

He was seventeen, he was too young to depend on some thing, on some drug to live. He knew it was illegal, especially in South Korea where drug using is severely reprimanded. But he kept it safe in his room, not too much, just for him. Well, not exactly... Mina was so afraid that her parents could discover that she was using that she asked Jungkook to keep her dose in his room. And she was using way more than him. The amount of special K in Jungkook's sockets drawer couldn't be for personal using.

He doesn't know who reported him but one day, after class, he ran to his room in a desperate need to inhale ketamine to finally feel good. He didn't expect to see three police officers in his bedroom. When they asked him questions, he lied and said it was only his. He lied to protect Mina, and she didn't tell the truth, too afraid of the consequences for herself. She let him take the blame for the both of them even when she knew that if she had said the truth, Jungkook wouldn't had this much trouble. Nonetheless, Jungkook doesn't hold a grudge against Mina: he was the one who made the call to lie.

With the amount of drug in his room, the judge didn't believe it was only for personal using and thought that Jungkook was dealing. But, as a minor, he decided to give him a chance to take change of his life. So the judge convicted Jungkook: he had to spend three years - until his majority - in a juvenile detention facility.

It was more like a mandatory military service but with violent teenagers. But there was also an addiction treatment center. It was so hard to get clean while he didn't have anyone he loved around him. Mina was afraid of her parent's reaction if she visited him. And Jungkook's parents... Well, he doesn't really remember what happened because one of the main effects of ketamine is memory loss. So he doesn't know if he told them to back off or if they didn't want to see him anymore but the result was the same: he was alone, and scared.

He was seventeen and he felt like his whole life was over. He was suffering from the deprivation of drug - it was so fucking painful that he felt like dying - and he was damn aware of how people were looking at him: with disgust. Everyone was judging him, even the persons who were supposed to help him. He was so angry at everyone but even more at himself. He has been so fucking stupid to start using because now it was so hard to stop. He hold on on the thought that he did it for Mina, because he loved her.

But was it enough? Loving Mina didn't give him anything when he finally stepped out the facility three fucking years later. He had no diploma, no job, no money, no one. Even if he was out of the center, he was not free. People was still despising him every time he applied to a job and 'juvenile detention facility' was clearly written on his resume. It didn't really help that he had his first tattoos on his arm. He wasn't free because he still had to account to his probation officer.

Before his first meeting with his PO, he was angry, already expecting another person treating him like shit. However, Seokjin was nothing like that. Jungkook was surprised to meet a guy not so much older than him. The first thing Seokjin asked him was 'Tell me about you'. Jungkook sighed and started telling his drug and prison story for the thousandth time like he was expected to. But Seokjin cut him off and said 'Not that, tell me about you. As a person'. Jungkook was so taken aback to be finally treated as a human being after all these years that he cried in front of his PO for hours.

After that, Seokjin became like a big brother to him. He helped him so much with his addiction and pretty much everything. Seokjin had to supervise Jungkook for two years and he knew that Jungkook was ready to do things right. That's why he didn't hesitate to tell him 'Start over. In a new city, where nobody knows you. Be the man you want to be. Be confident and for God's sake, be happy'.

The next day, Jungkook packed the few things he owned and went straight to Seoul. He became a graphic designer as the only skill he had honed in prison was drawing. He met some friends, including Taehyung and he did start over, willing to do things right this time. Not once he was attracted to do drugs, even if some days were harder than others. He wasn't really happy but he was living without too much pain, until he met you.

————

You cry in Jungkook's chest while he is telling you about his past. Jungkook doesn't cry, and he is surprised about that. Maybe he's already cried too much about his past or maybe he doesn't want to pain you more with his own tears. You stay silent for a few minutes, no words comforting enough coming to your mind. So you just head up and kiss him. Your tears drop on Jungkook's cheeks and he holds you tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Jungkook" You sob

"Please don't cry. I hate to see you cry" He says gently

Why does he confort you when he is the broken one? He is such a good person, he doesn't deserve any of what happened to him. And that makes you want to cry harder.

You are kissing Jungkook as if your lips were ointment on his wounds. Your hands on his shoulder and hair, his hands cupping your cheeks, there is no space between your two bodies. The darkness around you is oddly a protection from the outside world. You create your own place where is no past, no future and no pain. Just the two of you. You feel the urge to make sure he knows that he is not defined by his past.

"You're a good person, Jungkook"

"Thanks" He replies, awkward since he is not used to be praised like that

"Listen to me, you are a good person"

"Thank you" He says again but not really believing it, not with what he has done

"You are a good person. And I'm going to repeat it until you truly believe it. You are a good person"

You look at him in the dark. You can't see his face but you can hear faint sobbing. You kiss him again and Jungkook can't understand how you can think he is a good man after everything he's told you. But you do. Jungkook's past is rough but it shows one thing: he is truly a good person because, after everything he's been through, he is still kind and loving and he is still willing to do things right while it would be way easier for him to just give up and start using again.

Through his kisses, Jungkook is making a promise to you and to him. As long as you are willing to have him by your side, he'll cherish you and protect you. He'll do anything you want because if you think he's a good man, Jungkook believes you are a true angel, the best thing that ever happened to him. Maybe he is a little selfish to hold on on you but he doesn't care since he fucking loves you.

You fall in love with him all over again while you both fall asleep, holding each other tight.

————

Waking up in Jungkook's arms is the most delightful thing that can happen in the morning. You move your head up carefully and see him sleeping. He is so damn cute like that. Most of the time Jungkook is ridiculously hot and empowering. But right now, in the arms of Morpheus, he looks like a little boy. Somewhat, it warms your heart because he doesn't seem to suffer anymore.

You move slowly and cautiously, and step out of the bedroom. You hear some noise in the kitchen and find Seokjin already making breakfast.

"Do you need help?" You ask him

He turns around and discovers a still sleepy expression on your face.

"I'm almost done. Coffee?"

You nod, grateful for the cup full of the dark brown salutary beverage. You take a sip and moan in pleasure. You definitely needed it. You feel like you were knocked out by all the deep and intense emotions of Jungkook's past and that it'll take a few days to lighten the weight of it.

"I wanted to talk to you" Seokjin tells you gently and you give him an attentive look "Jungkook's addiction is a life-time fight. He'll never stop struggling with it. He is a good boy but everything he is dealing with can be... overwhelming. So, if you think you can't manage it, tell him now. The more you wait, the harder it'll be for him to deal with it alone again"

You stay silent for a moment. You don't really know what to say. You know that Seokjin just wants to protect Jungkook and he knows way more about addiction than you. The least thing you want is to hurt Jungkook. So you take the time to think about what Seokjin has said.

"I don't want him to be alone" You eventually decide to respond and Seokjin gives you a genuine smile

You don't have time to talk more because Jungkook, with messy hair, steps in, rubbing his eyes.

"Good morning everyone" He mumbles, still half-asleep and a tender smile forms on your face

He pecks the top of your hair before sitting down next to you. Why does it feel so natural? So good? But you do blush a little when you remember that you're not alone and that Seokjin has witnessed everything.

Jungkook sips on his coffee that Jin has just served him and opens his mouth:

"Hyung, could you check my place?"

"Sure, but it'll be in two or three days, I have some appointments"

"Thanks"

You look at Jungkook with a questioning face.

"Mina might had hidden some K and I'm not sure how I'd react if I find some. I rather not risk it"

You gently rub his back to erase the sad tone you heard in his voice.

————

Not so long after breakfast, Jungkook and you took the car to go back to Seoul, Jungkook behind the wheel this time. Your heart beats fast and your cheeks blushed when he grabbed your hand. Fortunately, the drive was way lighter than the day before. You also proposed to Jungkook to stay a few days at your place, saying it was a nonsense for him to pay a hotel while waiting for Seokjin to check his apartment and make sure everything is safe. You made a quick stop at Jungkook's and you stayed close to him while he took some cloths in a bag, being aware of a potential discovery of drug that could affect him.

That's how you end up like this. You both took a welcoming shower and changed into loungewear clothes. Jungkook is damn hot in his black sweat shorts and big t-shirt. You also chose an oversize - pink - top and some pj mini shorts in the same color. The truth is that you're hot, and not only because of the Korean summer. You can't deny that Jungkook's presence makes you way more sensitive to everything around you. However, you act like nothing's going on and you both sit on the couch, watching TV. You don't really pay attention to the screen, especially when Jungkook, almost laying, pulled you closer so your back is leaning on his buff chest and your whole body is surrounded by his.

You suddenly feel Jungkook hot breathe on your neck. Shivers travel all over your body. He doesn't wait too long before kissing your skin. Why are you so responsive to his touch? You immediately feel your pussy getting wet, and it doesn't help that his hands begin to explore your body. You feel him everywhere: your chest, your stomach, your bare thighs. A soft moan escapes your lips when his left arm disappears underneath your shirt. Jungkook caresses your boob and pinches your hardening nipple. His touch is so fucking good. You missed it so much. The stimulation of this sensitive part of your body makes your pussy clench.

In a desperate need of friction, you arch your back, throw your head back into his large shoulder - giving him more space to bite your neck - and press your thighs together. Jungkook smirks when he notices how needy you become. You look so hot when you're horny. And he is willing to push your arousal further.

His tattooed hand travels down to the hem of your shots. Skillfully, his fingers find their way under the fabric. You moan louder when you feel his touch on your wetness. The sight of his inked strong arm into your little pink shorts is hot. It's definitely a sin but you're ready to go to Hell just to see it for a second longer.

"No panties, uh?" Jungkook teases you with his raspy voice and it makes you fucking weak, but Jungkook's discovery also rushes blood directly into his cock

Your throat dries but your pussy dampens. You have no doubt at this point that your pj is completely ruined - not that you care anyway. Jungkook uses his delicate digits to circle your clit. You feel like in heaven. You whine like you haven't been touched for years. You are so desperate in his arms and Jungkook loves it. He keeps kissing your neck, fighting the urge to mark you. His left hand squeezes your nipple harder, making it deliciously painful. At this point, your pussy is dripping and doesn't stop clenching around nothing. Jungkook knows it and to be honest, he really wants to enter you with his fingers but he waits for you to say the little word his dominant side loves so much. He is ready to tease you for hours and to push you on the edge for that.

When a weak 'please' comes from your open mouth in a moan, he immediately places his hand lower, feeling all your wetness.

"You are so fucking wet" He says in some proud voice while pushing a finger in your pussy

It's so good that you clench around it. Jungkook's pace is a torture, purposely slow with his thumb rolling on your sensitive clit. Being behind you allows him to perfectly control his movements, just like you would if you were touching yourself - except that Jungkook's expertise provides you way more pleasure.

Your hands come up to grab his black and long hair that tickle your throat's thin skin and the back of his neck. You turn your head as much as you can to kiss him. The hand that used to attack your breasts cups your jaw to kiss you deeper. Your moans are directly swallowed by Jungkook's mouth. He loves hearing you so much, his hard cock is painful in his pants.

Jungkook enters you with another finger and speeds up the pace. You don't even know how is it possible but you get wetter. Your whole pussy is a huge pool of arousal. You're not embarrassed at all because you know that Jungkook loves it. You feel hot under his touch, you feel sexy.

You feel your orgasm building up slowly, your pussy clenching and relaxing around his digits. You are short on breathe but it feels so fucking good.

"Oh my god, Jungkook" You moan against his perfect swollen lips

"Cum on my fingers like a good girl" He whispers in such a seductive tone that you feel like fainting

His words drive you crazy and he finger-bangs you harder. You definitely feel on the edge of your orgasm and you pull on his hair, making him groan. He presses his thumb deeper on your abused clit and it's the end for you. You reach your climax in a loud moan while a huge wave of delightful pleasure makes your legs shake. But Jungkook doesn't stop and continues to slide his fingers in your oversensitive cunt at a slow pace but definitely makes you shiver. Your legs close up in reflex and your body spams. Your eyes close and your features torn in an almost painful pleasure. Seeing you like this drives Jungkook crazy. Knowing that you are this shaken up by his touch boosts his ego and possessiveness.

"Come on, babe, give me one more" He murmurs in your ear

He doesn't really know why he wants to push you further. Obviously, he wants to give you more pleasure but there is something else. Maybe he wants to erase the night you spent with another man, make sure that you feel more pleased by him than by the other guy. His competitive side added to his possessiveness makes him hungry for a second orgasm from you.

"I can't" You tell him in a breathe, your brain in the fog of pleasure

"I know you can"

You don't really know what kind of spell he put on you but you nod, giving him the approval to play with your cunt again. And he does. He pulls off of your pussy just to smear your arousal over your whole groin. It's so dirty to feel your juices messily recovering your skin but this is fucking hot. You never felt so naughty and yet so horny.

"Are so you wet for me?" His possessive side is dying to hear you tell him that

Jungkook wants to give you so much pleasure that you won't ever find another man attractive. He also knows that it's not only his dominant and possessive part but also the part that cares about you. Is it weird to say he wants to ruin you to keep you in his arms? He doesn't really have time to think about it because you open your mouth to speak up:

"Only for you"

Your words make Jungkook's cock twitch in his pants and he groans in satisfaction. 'Good fucking girl' He thinks and he enters you again with two fingers. You jolt in his arms but Jungkook keeps you in place with left forearm. Your mind is above clouds. The pleasure provided by the overstimulation after your orgasm is beyond words. It's painful and delightful at the same time. You can't even recall your name. The only thing you can say is Jungkook's name with a choked voice. You're a fucking mess.

"Cum again for me, babe'"Jungkook urges you while kissing your neck

The pet name and his fingers in your swollen and sensitive pussy are dangerous for your sanity. It doesn't take long for you to cum around his digits in a muted groan. Jungkook doesn't push you further when he notices how you're shaking in his arms due to the two orgasms he provided you. He hugs you tight and kisses your hair.

You feel exhausted after the two tsunamis of pleasure that rushed over you. Your whole body is flabby but your mind is in a euphoric phase that makes you laugh. It's like a shot of dopamine. After being this harsh with your body, Jungkook is now very gentle, caressing your arms and your stomach and kissing everywhere he can: the top of your head, your cheek, your neck, your shoulder.

"I think you should take a shower" He tells you softly, motioning to your messy intimate area.

You blush hard when you realize that you look really dirty - in all kind of ways. You nod shyly and bit your lower lip. You definitely feel unpleasant by your drying juices between your legs but you feel too good in Jungkook's arms to leave them.

"Do you want to come with me?" You ask, your cheeks reddening

"How could I say no?"

Jungkook's smile is perfect. His bunny teeth and scrunching nose are the definition of happiness. Right now, you are so close to say the 'L' word. To stop thinking about it, you stand up and walk to the bathroom, Jungkook right behind you. It's only when you have taken off your cloths and you've already entered the shower that you notice Jungkook's hard cock. The sight of his big and thick length shakes your pussy. Your instinct controls your movements and your hand wraps around him.

The soft skin under your fingertips makes you almost moan. Jungkook closes his eyes in delight while you start pumping him. Your mouth waters and you purse your lips, creating some kind of cringe face. Jungkook frowns when he sees your face.

"Is something wrong?" He asks with a worried voice, wondering if you are forcing yourself to touch him

"No, it's just that..." You wince while you are looking for the right words, embarrassed "I wonder how you taste"

Jungkook's releases a reassured sigh.

"Take my cock in your mouth if you wanna know" He says, playfully but that doesn't make you laugh

"I'm not really good at it" You whisper, kind of ashamed

Jungkook's steps closer to you and cups your face in his big hands, forcing you to look at him. The hot water coming from the shower makes your skins glistening and blankets you in a steam cloud. It's like a protective shield around your two body.

"I will never force you to do something you don't want to do. But if you don't want to do it just because you are afraid of not being good enough, I can guide you. I won't judge you. Whatever you decide, I'm okay with it" Jungkook's voice is so soft that your heart is melting

He pecks your nose delicately and somewhat, feeling how much he cares about you gives to some courage.

"I'd like you to guide me then" You say in a murmur

Jungkook nods and helps you get on your knees. You can't deny being a little intimidating by his size right in front of your face. The red on your cheeks is clearly noticeable. However, as Jungkook is witnessing you kneeled, he gets really horny. He couldn't be in a more dominant position while he is standing up and you're on your knees, ready to suck his boner. You look so fucking innocent while his big cock is inches away from your pretty mouth. God, what he'd do to this mouth... The simple thought makes his dick twitch. Why does he like so much the idea of teaching you how to suck his cock?

"You can start by kissing it" He says with a raspy voice

You do as he says, softly kissing the tip. A drop of pre-cum stains your swollen lips and Jungkook has to bit his lower lips to prevent his moan. You're so hot right now that he is a second to cum. You don't seem to be aware of his inner state and you start pumping him slowly at the base while you kiss him more.

At some point, driven by your own horniness, you take a fat lick from the base of his cock to the tip. Jungkook moans loudly, giving you more confidence to continue. Your tongue caresses his length everywhere without taking him into your mouth. The stains of saliva make his dick so pretty. You can't wait any longer and open your mouth wide to take the tip.

More precum settles on your tongue. The salty taste makes you moan, sending vibrations in Jungkook's length. You slowly take him more, careful that you don't hurt him with your teeth - and it's not really easily owing to his size.

"You're doing good, babe. Open your pretty mouth wide for me"

Jungkook's voice is shaken because of the pleasure. You look up at him and meet his perfect face with delight painted on it. Jungkook almost looses it when he sees you looking at him. Your eyes are so innocent while you have his cock in your mouth. The duality of the scene is a sin. A moaned 'fuck' escapes his pierced lips.

You take him deeper and deeper, almost feeling his cock in your throat. Your hand slides on what you can't take into your mouth. Your tongue wiggles around his tip and insists on the sensitive spot connecting the tip to his length. Jungkook's groans grow deeper and he slightly moves his hips. He doesn't want to push too much but the pleasure you provide him is too unbearable to stay steady.

Seeing that he likes it, you grow bolder and push your head further, almost taking his entire dick in your throat.

"Fuck, babe!" He moans "Your mouth feels so fucking good"

You pull off to breathe and take him again, your nose touching is pubis. You gag on his cock and Jungkook swears he's in heaven. He feels your tight throat contracting around his dick while you chocked in it and it's so fucking hot. The bathroom is fulled of Jungkook's pleased groans and choking sounds from your part - music to his ears if he is being honest. This is so shameless and hot, making your pussy so wet that you don't know if it's from your arousal or the shower. It doesn't help that the praising and the pet name make you clench around nothing. Will you ever stop feeling butterflies in your stomach when he is calling you 'babe'? You seriously doubt it.

You decide to catch your breathe while sucking him less deep but faster. His length is dripping from your saliva and your pace drives Jungkook crazy.

"Come on babe, suck on my cock like a good girl. Keep going, I'm gonna cum" He manages to say between his clenched teeth

His inked hand grabs your hair, not to push you but to feel you more in someway. He stands tall on front of you, sexier than ever. He is like a god, powerful and maybe a little dangerous for your sanity. It makes him look even more dominant and you can't deny that it makes you horny. You didn't even know you liked it so much before meeting Jungkook.

A last glance at you, sinfully hot on your knees while his big cock is fulling your pretty mouth, drives him over the edge.

"Babe, I'm cumming, pull off-" He moans

As he tries to step away, you grab his hips to keep him in your mouth. You don't move your head but your tongue is still swirling like crazy around his cock and you feel his first shot of hot and thick cum. You moan fromthe sensation, closing your eyes to have a better taste of his spunk. Seeing you loving his cum makes Jungkook releases more in your mouth, until he completely empties his balls in your warm mouth.

Both Jungkook and you are out of breathe. You slowly stand up, grabbing the hand Jungkook provides you to help. Your legs hurt but it's immediately forgotten when you meet the bliss on Jungkook's handsome face. He rushes over your lips and kisses you passionately.

"Who is the dickhead that told you you weren't good at it?" He asks, half-joking half-serious

"My ex, when we broke up" You try to stay neutral but the memory is still painful - he told very mean things the last time you saw him

"Let me tell you something. He lied. It's the best blowjob I've ever had"

You see the sincerity in Jungkook's eyes and you feel proud. You realize that he helps you overcome your insecurities without even having you feeling like trying to do so. Jungkook just makes you happier.

You hug him tight and he kisses your forehead. You both appreciate the peaceful silence and the warm water, before going to sleep. There is no doubt you'll sleep tight after those mind-blowing orgasms.  

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Taglist @hoseokteardrop @aerynorirene @jkoooooooookie @lacolegaming @busanbby-jjk @mysteriousstress65 @coralmusicblaze @winter-bear98 @gimeow @cuntessaiii @nikkinik485 @jjin-kun @dmstoyangyang