#and Asking. Questions. And. Talking. To. Your. Peers. About. Things.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Chaotic Hero Boyfriend Energy

Summary:Bob just wants to help...I mean how hard can it be to go buy pads? It'll be a quick trip right?

Warnings: talk of periods. Bob is a golden retriever boyfriend and he goes on a rant towards the end about prices of feminine products

You were in the middle of complaining about your back and head hurting, you were ranting for the past ten minutes before you just huffed and let out a sigh. “At least I only have like three more days left.”

You looked over at Bob, expecting him to completely be zoned out, not listening to you. What you see however, is Bob watching you closely with a look on his face like he was the one in pain. You didn’t expect him to care so much, you especially didn’t expect him to offer… ���I can go to the store,” Bob said with full confidence. “Pads, tampons, chocolate. I can handle that babe.”

You made a list. You made sure to clarify the brands. You even sent him photos. He nodded like he was going to war. "Baby you live five minutes from the store. Its only a few things its an easy trip. I got this." He did not have this. You knew that because fifty five minutes later, he walks back in with five bags. Five. Giant. Bags.

“Bob,” you say slowly, “Sweetheart what… what happened?” He looked at you completely sheepishly, “I panicked.”

You peer into the bags and gasped seeing everything he gathered. Every size of pad that's probably ever been made, three different tampon brands all different sizes too, a menstrual cup and when you asked Bob about it he just shrugged; “Just in case I don’t know maybe you wanna try it? I-I don’t even know what it does honestly…” There was a small heating pad shaped like a dinosaur, five different pints of ice cream (each a different flavor), plastic spoons, when you questioned those (since you do have spoons at home) he looked at you like you were the crazy one. "They're to go with the ice cream so you won't have to do the dishes if you don't feel like it babe", there's also a box labeled “organic herbal moon blood tea blend.” A new stuffed animal for “emotional support” and a pair of pajama pants; in his size because and I quote “You like mine and now we can match."

He looks sheepish. “A lady came in the aisle; I was already in there for like 15 minutes and she laughed... SHE LAUGHED AT ME BABE!!! and-- and she said I looked scared and I mean I was terrified why is that aisle so damn big?! She told me to just buy everything and let you sort it out.” You were trying your best not to laugh. “I see that you did exactly that.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with a blush painting on his cheeks, “I-um then I got the dinosaur because it was your favorite color…and I mean you like dinosaurs and you always look for new stuffed animals when we go out and it feels like that fabric you like so I just--” You throw your arms around him, suddenly overwhelmed. “You are the weirdest, most amazing man I ever met.”

He hugs you back, rubbing your back with slow, soothing circles. “I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I didn’t want you to go through it alone. I’ll figure out how to help, I'll become a pro…and maybe figure out how to save money so we don't have to take out a loan every time you start." He pulled a way from the hug just slightly so he can rant about the prices of tampons and pads. "I just!" He huffs and pulls away more sighing, "What!?! Like you can't help it! Wouldn't they want you to bleed!? Isn't that a sign you're healthy!??! Why are they punishing you even more?? Are they not aware youre already bleeding and in pain!! Why isnt that shit just free!!??? Im telling you its all because of--" you pulled away from the hug so he could pace freely and rant til his heart was content while you just laughed and pulled out a plastic spoon for the two of you and started to try a bite from each of the new ice cream pints he got. When he's done with his tangent he flops down beside you on the couch and let's you fiz the hair the flopped in his face during his rant while he takes his own spoon and a random pint. "Fuck...that's good. What flavors that one?"

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If you like my work please let me know! Reblogging, commenting and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Request are open <3

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[goobstars]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary : many people have attempted to comfort jax, yet their words never really got to him. but if that was the case, why did it feel so different with you?

tags : romance, jax falls in love with the reader, and that's about it this whole thing is just about that.

note : i love attempting to write what it feels like to fall in love.

it wasn't common to see jax alone, yet today was different.

you stared at him from the picnic blanket you were currently standing on with kinger, zooble, gangle, ragatha, and pomni. apparently, ragatha had made a comment about something she refused to elaborate on—no matter how many times you asked—, and that resulted in her dashing over to the picnic blanket.

pomni ended up following in ragatha after a few minutes of talking to jax, but despite their conversation, he still didn't look okay. well, who was okay when being stuck in a situation like this?

"you think he'll be okay?" you heard ragatha question pomni—the remorse in her tone evident while you listened to pomni's response. "maybe...? i don't know."

you turned your attention back towards jax as you furrowed your eyebrows, and you started to make your way over to him.

did you know what you were doing? no, but before you could rethink your decision, you were already standing beside him.

you slowly sat down on the grass, and you peered over your shoulder to meet his gaze since he was lying down.

"you okay?

jax shrugged at your words, "yep."

his short answer made you slightly frown as you leaned back on your hands, and you raised an eyebrow at him. he only rolled his eyes at the look you gave him, to which you hummed. "jax."

"since when do you care, doll?"

you paused for a moment, for his answer made sense. you never really did ask about how he felt, and that doesn't exactly scream 'i care'.

you took in a deep breath as you watched jax cross one of his legs over the other, and you responded to his question.

"look, i know you don't talk about like—emotions and stuff, but if you ever need someone to talk to, i'm here."

when jax first heard your words, he smirked as he believed you were just joking with him, but when he looked over at you, you appeared to be completely serious.

he felt the smirk on his face falter a bit while he narrowed his eyes at you, and he started to question if you were just messing with him. why did you suddenly care about him? it's not like he's been nice to you or anything, for he's been quite the opposite. he'd mess with you and constantly prank you. he wouldn't blame you if you hated him, if he was being honest.

yet, as he waited to hear a snicker or anything to confirm his thoughts, he was only met with silence.

his gaze never left you despite the fact you had already turned your head to face the sky, and he noted the way the stars were reflected in your eyes. yet, they appeared brighter in your gape.

everything appeared brighter when you were around.

the fireflies that flew around you seemingly had more of a shine to them, and the bugs light appeared to get more vivid as you lightly laughed when one landed on the tip of your nose.

did you always look this way?

he stared at you for a minute—his eyes flickering across your features, and it was all unknown to you. not once had your gaze met his ever since you made that statement, but for some reason, he was okay with that. it meant you wouldn't catch him looking at you like that.

jax, of course, wasn't aware of the way he was staring at you—just like how you didn't notice either.

his pupils were wide, and there was a certain gleam to them that made it difficult to tell if it was just the light from the stars, or a spark from what he unraveled.

you truly meant your words.

despite his pranks and remarks, you offered to listen to him if he ever needed to talk.

why would you do that? he genuinely thought you hated him.

yet, your words proved him otherwise.

but if you didn't hate him, how did you feel about him? did you like him or something?

a quiet scoff left his throat as he turned his head to the side for a moment, and a frown partially formed on his face. he was probably just thinking too much into this. yet, with every hasty beat his heart had, the thoughts grew quiet as his ears rang with the sound of his heart pounding.

was he having a heart attack or something? his hand slightly gripped his chest as his breath grew shallow, and he peered up at the sky as if looking for an answer. why did it feel like he was dying but thriving at the same time? his heart wasn't beating oddly, but rather in a rhythm that seemed almost euphoric.

he closed his eyes in an attempt to get his heart to calm down, and luckily for him, it worked a little bit. he could actually hear his own thoughts now.

he slowly opened his eyes while a low breath echoed from him.

whatever this was, he'd get over it.

"thanks, i guess..." his words were mumbled as his gaze shifted to look at you, but to his surprise, you were already looking at him.

and with a smile plastered on your face, too.

"you're welcome, jax."

as soon as he felt his heart start beating quicker in his chest, he already knew his thought from before were idiotic.

he wasn't getting over this, was he?

once you looked away from him and his mind slightly filled with dread, he knew the answer to that.

no, no he was not.

[r66dusthewriter]

Hello! Could you write something about a reader from Rio Grande do Sul and Daryl? He calls her a cowgirl because she wears a traditionalist hat and boots.

thanks!

Lessons in riding.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader.

Masterlist | Who am i? | REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

A/n: Did some research, i hope it lives up to your expectationc love!

Genre: suggestive fluff

Warnings: suggestive word play

Era: Season 2

Word count: 0.8k

The sun had barely dipped below the horizon, casting golden light over the Greene farm. You leaned against the fence near the barn, one boot propped up, hands tucked into your belt as you watched the horses graze lazily. Your bombacha pants were dusty from walking the fields, and your lenço was tied tight around your neck, but it was the chapeu tradicionalista, wide-brimmed, worn and proudly yours that drew attention more than anything else.

"Thought we had enough cowboys 'round here," a low voice drawled from behind you. You turned, unsurprised to find Daryl standing there, crossbow slung over his shoulder, eyes flicking from your boots to your hat. "Didn't know we were recruitin' from Brazil."

You smirked, already used to his half-teasing, half-curious tone. "I'm not a cowgirl, Dixon. I’m a gaúcha…different things.”

"Uh huh." He stepped closer, peering at the hat with an amused squint. "So wha's tha’ make ya? Pampas princess?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like a princess to you?"

He gave a half-shrug. “Definitely ain’t seen none carry knives like tha’.”

You tilted your head. "Don’t forget I shoot, too."

His lip twitched and for Daryl, that was practically a full grin. “I noticed.” He leaned against the fence beside you, shoulder brushing yours briefly. “Ya ever ride?”

“I was ridin�� before I could walk,” you said proudly, eyes flicking to the horse pen. “My grandfather had a farm… taught me how to lasso cattle and dance chula before I learned long division.”

Daryl let out a rare, quiet chuckle you loved. “Dance wha’ now?”

“Chula. You jump over sticks to the beat. It’s a southern Brazil thing.”

“Mmm…fancy footwork ’n dangerous weapons, sounds just like ya.”

You turned to face him fully, hand on your hip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’ bad.” His eyes held yours for a moment too long. “Just sayin’ ya handle yerself. Ain’t many ‘round here tha’ do.”

There was a soft moment of silence between you filled by the distant sound of Carl laughing by the house, accompanied by a breeze lifting the corner of your shirt. Daryl cleared his throat, looking back out over the fields.

"Still don’t get the hat, though," he muttered. "Ain’t it hot wearin’ tha’ all day?"

You took the hat off and twirled it in your hand. “It’s tradition. Back home, if you wear boots and a hat, people know you’re proud of where you come from.”

Daryl was quiet for a second and then, softly… “Ya miss it?”

You blinked. He rarely asked questions like that. “Every day,” you admitted. “The food, the music, the way we’d sit around the fire and drink chimarrão…even the rain.”

“I miss the woods,” he said. “Back home. Me and Merle used to hunt squirrels with slingshots. Dumb stuff. But it's home.”

You gave him a knowing look. “This place starting to feel like home to you?”

He didn’t answer right away. “When’s quiet. When people ain’t screamin’ or fightin’….’n when I get t’ sit next t’ you and talk ‘bout nothin’.” He nodded to himself “Yeah. Kinda does.”

Your heart skipped just a little. Daryl looked away, ears a touch pink. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

“Well then,” you said, gently bumping his arm, “guess we’ll both just have to bring a little piece of home with us.”

He glanced back at you. “Guess that explains them cowgirl boots.”

You laughed. “Gaúcha boots, Daryl.”

“Righ’. Gaúcha.” He nodded, dead serious now. “Gotta get my words right. Can’t be insultin’ no Brazilian cowgirl.”

You leaned in just enough to tease. “Mhm, you’d be smart not to.”

He leaned back, eyes crinkling slightly. “Ain’t tha’ smart.”

“Noticed,” you shot back, playful.

“Watch it” He crossed his arms, mock affronted.

You tipped your hat back on and started toward the house with a sly smile. “C’mon, Dixon. I’ll show you how to clean a saddle the right way. Might even let you sit in it if you promise not to fall off again”

He followed close, the crunch of his boots in the dirt steady behind you. “Pfff I don’t fall easy,” he muttered.

You threw a wink over your shoulder. “Good. You’re gonna need stamina if you ever wanna get a ride from a real cowgirl.”

Daryl stumbled for half a second before catching himself, his ears immediately turning red. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath but he couldn’t stop the crooked grin spreading across his face.

You just kept walking, hips swaying with casual confidence, calling back over your shoulder: “Don’t worry, Dixon. I’ll go easy on you… the first time.”

Behind you, he groaned, muttering under his breath. “Damn crazy South Americans.”

But he followed and the smile on his face didn’t leave even after the sun dipped below the horizon.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Apologies if this question has ever been asked before, but wtf could Malleus' loss of magic and broken horn mean for book 8 and beyond? Like, is he gonna jump in and attempt a self sacrifice against Grims overblot? Just kinda chill at the sides and help in other ways without risking his life? Or will it be focused on Briar Valley? I hate how his character is written, it feels so inconsistent and confusing 😭 what should point to him potentially sacrificing himself to atone in one area, is different in other areas. Like, other areas says he shouldn't sacrifice himself and doesn't need to, nor is that the intent (for obvious reasons.. Like genre convention)

His role in the story is weird.

I’ve discussed this a few times before. Please consult this post, which I believe is the most recent and covers the most area on the subject. There’s also this post, which talks more about the themes of book 7.

To summarize: I don’t think Malleus’s injured horn is supposed to be a death flag. It reads to me like a way to power cap him (to prevent him from immediately defeating OB Grim with a snap of his fingers). It also reads as a way to “force” socialization with peers (since his immense power was once a reason for him to self-isolate + control his emotions and made others peer him; without his insane powers, peers may be more comfortable approaching him). His character development JUST started. I think it would be really rushed to have someone who struggled for three years to understand humans suddenly empathize with them enough in the span of a few weeks post-OB/before the end of the school year + feels guilty enough to throw himself in harm’s way, completely disregarding his other obligations (like to his country + people as the ONLY heir).

I believe the reason why Malleus is written strangely is because the writers have conflicting motives, especially if you consider that he has always gotten special treatment as the “poster boy”. His book also involves the theme of inevitability, or the passage of time despite one’s own will or wish to compel it to a standstill. All the supposed themes of fairy tales and Malleus being lost to time feel like callbacks to the book’s theme to me and not like ominous foreshadowing.

I feel like even if we interpreted every possible thing as a death flag… so what if they are? Lilia had tons of death flags too (many of which I would argue are more blatantly in-your-face about it), and look what happened to him. They literally used the “it’s love magic” (Disney trademark/j) to revive him. What’s to say Twst wouldn’t pull that again??

And like 😭 Malleus isn’t depicted as a particularly self-sacrificing person?? If I had to assign that role to someone in Diasomnia, it would go to Silver, who frequently beats himself up for minor failings and literally jumps in the way of attacks for his father. This is a pretty notable flaw of Silver, not Malleus.

The future will probably feature a culmination of everyone coming together to fight Grim as a team. This would cap off the “you should teach everyone how to cooperate” thing posed to us in the prologue. I don’t see a reason why Malleus and Malleus alone would attempt to sacrifice himself??? Diasomnia would definitely be returning to help out, but I wouldn’t take that as a “Malleus will die” detail. There’s tons of ways he could assist—for example, Ortho asks early in book 6 is Yuu knows any fae who may be able to assist them in finding a way home, to which Yuu has a flashback about Malleus. I feel like that’s what he will probably need assisting with, not putting his life on the line.

I don’t see us focusing on Briar Valley in the next main story installment. It just would not make sense, nor is there a previously consistent pattern for it to occur. For starters, why would we (Yuu) leave for an entirely different country when it is not relevant to us at all? What happened to the rest of the school year? Why are we spending another book focused on Diasomnia and their country’s history and politics? (I understand that they didn’t get much screen time in their own book, but this can be remedied with just their return as “helper” characters and not necessarily by hopping on over to their country.) Is Yuu expected to help with something over there? (If so, that’s doesn’t make sense because their abilities and reputation don’t extend that far.) This should be saved for a hometown event or something of that sort.

While we’re on the subject, may I ask (not specifically to you, anon, but to anyone reading this post) for an explanation of this… line of thinking???? I’ve heard the “Malleus will sacrifice himself” thing several times at this point and I’m wondering where it came from or why people genuinely believe this. dhsvwjkwkw Maybe it’s just me, but it feels very… fear-monger-y 😅

[captainkirkk]

✩ MONTHLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

The fics I’ve read and enjoyed for the month of June. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

This monthly round up is shorter than previous ones. Only fandoms included here:

Clone Wars

MurderBot (TV)

Clone Wars

if I could save time in a bottle by saviinika

As he’s peering down at the desk, the pneumatic hatch slides open with a soft chime, and a fully armoured Mandalorian strides through. “Good morning, sir,” greets the very handsome man with the curling scar, not bothering to look up from his datapad. “We’ve got a busy—” He jerks to a stop. “Holykriffwhothekarkareyou.”

The two stare at one another open-mouthed for a moment before Obi-Wan swallows and turns on the charm. He pulls himself up straight, tugging on his tabards, and swivels fully to greet the stranger.

“Hello there.”

in those quiet ways by lux_arcana

Day 1: adverse effects / wiping the others tears away

Obi-Wan, after a long moment, finally managed to strangle his vocal cords and force them back under his control. “Cody,” he said again. “Cody, I’m not - I’m fine. It’s a side effect. I really am -“ he took a breath, and sobbed on the exhale, emotions tangling up and threatening to choke him once again. “I know this does seem like I’m lying, but I really am fine.”

Cody’s eyebrows twitched.

“Sir, avoiding your emotions isn’t healthy.”

Obi-Wan just barely resisted the urge to slam his head against the wall.

safe with you by lux_arcana

In which Obi-Wan very nearly dies for lack of cuddles, Cody learns to knit, and Padme murders the Chancellor.

(An assassination attempt goes horribly - well, more horribly - wrong when Obi-Wan's biology reacts to the allergen in unexpected ways. Featuring caring for someone when sick, snuggling and cuddling, platonic a/b/o dynamics, and Obi-Wan being beloved by his whole messy family.)

In the Quiet Moments by Lady Sarai (lady_sarai), NutterZoi

Small acts of love and kindness in the midst of war.

In other words: 5 ways Obi-Wan takes care of his troops, and 1 way they take care of him.

Or: sometimes your family is your Jedi lineage, and sometimes it's hundreds of clone troopers you adopted, and who adopted you in return.

two things can be true at the same time.

chronic conditions by deniigiq

“I will ask you questions of a person unnamed,” Commander Cody says. “And afterwards you can tell me if any of these behaviors are in need of professional support.”

Kix’s stomach yearns to become a farmer. Oh, the cheese it could make. It decides to practice curdling while this conversation continues.

(Kix ends up learning way more than he asked to about a most scandalous affair occurring at very top of the 212th Attack Battalion.)

when everything else is trying to hurt you by CallToMuster

One moment Obi-Wan was curled in the space between the couch and wall in his quarters, holding desperately onto the soft feathers of Boga’s crest, and the next he was sitting in the middle of an open dirt field as men shouted and blasters fired overhead.

[or: in the months post-Melida/Daan, Obi-Wan is transported to the middle of the Clone Wars.]

MurderBot

Performance Reliability by coulson_is_an_avenger

Murderbot can't seem to shake whatever's bothering it.

Something in its memory keeps dragging down its performance reliability, and it has to figure out what before there's a problem. Or worse, someone notices.

Or: Murderbot talks to someone about how it was treated by Leebeebee.

Propositional Logic by e_va

Murderbot downloads a nasty virus.

There is, unfortunately, only one person it can turn to for help.

Seven Seconds in Hell by TempusPetrichor

"SecUnit?" Mensah repeated. "Yes, Ca—" Captain? "Yes, Dr. Mensah." She narrowed her eyes at me. "Are you all right?" She asked. "I–" I didn't know. Why was she asking me that? And why didn't I know?

Murderbot thinks it's still a danger to the team. Mensah tries to convince it otherwise.

[scarletfasinera]

The way grown adults in their twenties still talk about how they didn't learn about x historical event or y horrific thing the US did back when they were in highschool as if it's any excuse for their willful ignorance is like actually so pathetic. It's four years of schooling that you had a decade ago of course you didn't learn every single thing in the world, no one does in any school in any country. You're not special. It's time to grow up and make the effort to learn things for yourself, You're Not In Highschool Anymore

[bycaligula]

heart to heart

pairing ; rodrick heffley x f!reader

summary ; there’s a first time for everything — rejection, heartbreak, kissing, humping your friend…you know, the usual.

warnings ; SMUT,, p in v, virginity loss, reader has lady parts, dry humping, swearing, rodrick’s the loser we all know he (not so) secretly is, sorta sub!virgin!rodrick, virgin!reader

a/n ; never posted smut on anything before so…🔥🔥 i like to imagine reader is plus sized and gothic but yk whatever u wanna imagine her as idgaf, anyway hope y’all like (also experimenting in which perspective i like more so this one’s in first person)

first time we fucked, we were both heartbroken— him over heather, and me over some stupid poser punk boy from school. we laid in his bed together, both sulking and talking to each other about how things could’ve went with our crushes.

we take turn taking hits from rodrick’s sloppily rolled joint. we both decide we shouldn’t get too high, just in case susan arrives home early. we’re not crazy high, but high enough to get those risky, crazy ideas and laugh at stupid things we say to each other. eventually, we end up rolled on our sides facing each other. we don’t say anything, just staring with hooded eyes and silly smiles.

“you know…” i begin to say, scanning my eyes over rodrick’s face, taking in every little detail i see, “you’re pretty cute, i guess. i’ve never noticed before until now…” he chuckles, “yeah, i guess you’re pretty cute too, y/n…”

i lick my bottom lip, deep in a certain thought. roderick mimics my action, watching me. i take a deep breath before uttering out, “maybe…”

“maybe, what?” he asks curiously. i hesitate, but continue nonetheless, “maybe, we don’t have to be, um, lonely…in that way…like, i mean…” “what do you mean?” his questioning is innocent, almost like he wouldn’t dare jump to perverted thoughts like he’d usually do because we’re such close friends…

“well, you know…i’m a girl, you’re a boy…” i trail off. my once avoiding eyes are now back on his, staring right into his dark irises. i hear him swallow, he seems to understand what i’m implying this time. he bites him lip, and now i’m the one mimicking him. he nods in slow motion, it seems like. he whispers a borderline silent, “okay.”

i, very, very, slowly push myself up onto my elbow. i gauge his reaction with every small movement.

in all my time of knowing rodrick, he’s never really been with a girl. he’s never kissed a girl, or even held hands with a girl in a romantic fashion. i, on the other hand, has been with two guys. none were very serious, just casual flings— sharing nothing more than a few kisses. he likes to talk big game, especially to greg, and act all confident and flirtatious. in reality, when me and him are alone and hanging out as friends he wasn’t so cocky. he was actually quite ‘dorky’, similar to his brother, and desperate to impress his peers.

now, i’m hovering over him propped up on my elbow as he lays flat on his back. his lips are parted, and his gaze occasionally wanders down to my own lips. i, slowly and gently, lower my face to his. i hesitate for a brief moment before lightly grazing my lips with his, both of our eyes screwed shut. just for a second, our mouths are just barely touching. he closes the gap completely, pressing his lips against mine with no further movement. i let out a breath i didn’t know i was holding in. i part my lips, kissing him properly and bringing my other hand up to rest on his cheek.

he suddenly gains enough confidence to grab my waist, carefully pulling me closer and closer until i’m pressed up again his warm, lanky body. the kiss is sloppy, but slow and gentle. it’s almost as if we’re trying to be careful with each other, both fearing if we make one wrong move, we’ll mess it all up.

i smile into our open mouthed, breathy kisses. i feel his warmth radiating off of him, it’s addictive. with every touch of his calloused hands to my waist, every breath of his i feel on my face, and graze of his pretty lips against mine, the butterflies slam in my stomach. it gets me hot, doing this with roderick.

when i said i’ve shared a few kisses with a couple guys, i meant awkward, tight lipped, quick ‘let’s get this over with’ kisses; nothing like this.

i lap my tongue into his open mouth. he moans oh so quietly at that simple action, but my tummy does flips and my face heats up like it’s been lit on fire. i lose the little self control i tried to keep. my hands move without a second thought, one to tangle in his dark, messy hair and the other to rest along his jawline. my leg whips around to straddle his hips, pressing down on the poor unexpecting boy. he gasps, which fades into a strained groan. the gentle kissing becomes feverish and needy, lapping my tongue against his desperately. he wraps his long arms around me, forcing my back into an arch; rib cage to rib cage, heart to heart. his hands wander would you expect anything else from rodrick from down to rub my hips, to up to grip my shoulders. our tongues wrestle and invade past the others lips. we share whines and little moans, reveling in each others warmth and need for intimacy. we breath heavily between each kiss, taste buds and mouth covered in each others saliva.

finally, i pull away, but not without roderick attempting to chase my lips. i lick my lips clean of our mixed spit. my chest is heaving and my heart is thumping as i speak, “rodrick?” he hums in acknowledgment. his eyes hooded and gazing at me full of lustful infatuation. i feel his heartbeat drum against mine, his chest pushing against mine with every labored inhale. i let my hands wander down to his chest, balancing myself as i lay meeting his stare. “was that okay?” i whisper. he hums first, nodding his head in shallow shakes. “why wouldn’t it be?” his confused tone makes me smile. i laugh, shaking my head, “i- i don’t know…”

he lifts his head to bring his lips back to mine in a sweet kiss. i trail my kisses to his jaw, then down his neck. i suck and bite softly on the column of his throat, bragging my tongue over each tender bite. he moans lowly, his hands caressing my crop top exposed lower back. his touch leaves a fiery path in its wake. i tug at his black loded diper tee. he gets the memo and i sit up a little in my spot on his hips to allow him to tug it off. as soon as the fabric is thrown to the floor, i let my fingertips feel his smooth chest. they run down past his bellybutton to his little happy trail of dark hair. my thighs clench at the feeling, my hips unintentionally wiggling against him. his eyes snap open and he groans, that’s when i notice his dick is firm under me. i snap my head up to look at his face, his eyes are now screwed shut and his lips are slightly parted.

“oh, shit…” he mumbles under his breath. i have to make a decision now. even though our friendship might be ruined after this little make out we just had, am i willing to ruin it for good by fucking him?

yeah, i think i am.

i can’t ignore the pit of fire nestling between my abdomen and the slightly uncomfortable wetness pooling in my panties. caught up in my thoughts, i didn’t notice rodrick had opened his eyes again and he’s staring right down at where our hips are connected. i decide ‘whatever, fuck it’ and lift my shirt above my head to throw it as fast as i can. my lacy bra exposed to his view. his eyebrows are raised, his cheeks dusted with a pretty pink.

“you can touch me, i want you to.” he nods, i gently grab his wrist bringing to my breast. he inhales sharply, softly kneading it. i whine at the feeling. the look on his face could make me cum alone. his hard on pokes at my thigh. i roll my hips down, my core grazing his through my jeans. he chokes on a moan, “y/n!” i smile down at him and giggle, “what?”, i repeat the action.

“that!”

“do you want me to stop?”

“no! it’s just- oh, fuck-“

“just what?”

now, i’m just taunting him. how could i not? he’s cute when he’s flustered. i plant my hands firmly on his chest, and repeatedly grind my core down on his. he grips my hips tightly, moaning at this new feeling. our moans and groans blend together. i speed up, my head hung as my face is contorted in focus and pleasure. he bucks his hips up, and uses his hold on mine to move me back and forth. i feel like we’re two wild animals, humping each other with such desperation and fervor.

“good- feels so good..” he whines out. yeah, this feels good, but i crave more. i abruptly stop, and he groans in frustration. “y/n?-“ “wait.”

i hurry and roll off him to remove my pants, kicking them off my feet. he sees what i’m doing, and is quick to follow. i stand on my knees next to him on the bed, he observes me ready to mimic whatever action i’m to do next. i hold his gaze and slowing pull my matching lace panties down my legs. a thin string of arousal connects my cunt with my panties as they slide down my thighs. he lays watching me, basically drooling as he sees a part of a girl he’s over ever seen in porno magazines. i hear him utter a holy fuck and a i can’t believe this is happening under his breath.

i remove my bra next, the slightly chilly air from his attic bedroom making my nipples harden. too mesmerized by the sight of my completely naked body, he doesn’t notice me reach over to slip my fingertip under the band of his briefs. he feels my warm hands on his skin, and snaps out of his trance. “oh! yeah, yeah, i’ll-“ he pulls down his black underwear and kicks them off his feet, his hard cock springing out. it’s bright pink tip leaks with pre-cum. i practically drool at the sight. i reach out to graze my fingers over his shaft. he softly moans at the small touch. i lean and kiss up his chest while i run my gentle fingertips over him.

i smile down at him, my face heating up at the fact that this is rodrick. that this isn’t a dream and it’s actually happening. the buzz of our shared high has basically worn off, and the reality of it all hits me. it causes a wave of shyness, my cheeks dusted with the same pink roderick has been collecting on his pretty face.

i push my shyness down, forcing myself to not let my nerves ruin this. i pull roderick to move ontop of me as i lay down on my back. “i want you to lead the way, is that okay?” i question, watching him adjust to hover over me. he nods and gives me a toothy grin, “yeah, totally.”

he takes this time to scan over my body sprawled out underneath him, “you’re really cute, y/n, really pretty…” he leans in to kiss me sweetly as i wrap my legs loosely around his waist. he takes that as a sign to look down and grab his cock, taking a deep breath and lining it up with my entrance. a low groan escaped him as he pushes in. i grip his shoulders tightly, feeling a burning pain. “are you okay?” he asks when he sees the grimace on my face.

“yes, i’m okay, i’m okay. please- please, keep going,” i stutter out. he continues to push his length into me, after a moment he bottoms out. “i-,” he chokes on his words, “im all- all the way in.” he moves from his position from hovering over me, holding his weight with his arms, to completely laying over me. his arms snake around to hold me close to him, and i do the same. slowly, he starts shallowing thrusting into my weeping cunt. the pain is quickly swept away with spikes of pleasure shooting up my body.

“rod- rodrick!” i gasp out, my nails clawing at his back. he speeds up, starting from shallow thrusts to quick slams on his hips into mine. he mumbles out praises and whimpers of my name into the nape of my neck. he fucks into me with fervor, “you’re so fucking tight, ohh my god…”

unwrapping himself from my body, he raises up to watch his cock slam into my hole. drools falls from his open lips. he grips with my hips tight, digging his nails into the plush skin. pressure builds in my lower belly. “i- i think im close, rodrick, please- more, more!”

i reach my hand down the rub my bundle of nerves between us. but before i could start, he pushes my hand out the way to press his thumb against it, moving in small circles. “right there?”

“yes! oh god-“

his breathing becomes labored and the rhythm he had stutters. the pressure building in me snaps and my back arches off the mattress. my lips form an O, a silent scream rips through me along with my orgasm. with two final thrusts he freezes up, joining me in euphoric relief, and his head hangs low with a low drawn out moan. i feel his hot seed paint my inner walls. his chest is glittering with a layer of sweat, his hair clinging to his forehead. after a second or two, he drags his softening cock out of my clamping walls. he watches his cum drip out of my hole, seeing it clamping around nothing but the white liquid escaping.

his gaze takes in my spent body from bottom to top. my breasts rising and falling from the intensity of my orgasm, struggling to catch my breath.

rodrick swears he can see her glowing, like an angel sent from heaven just for him, surrounded by light. how could he not see it before? he feels stupid, what did he see in heather? him and y/n have almost everything in common; our taste in music, our style, among so many other things he couldn’t even think of in this moment.

he falls down onto the bed, making my body bounce a little of the bed. i giggle, and turn my head to look at him. he was one step ahead of me, already looking right at me. he pulls me closer, hugging me tightly. “y/n, i-“

the front door slams. “kids! i’m home!”

it’s susan.

we’re completely naked, there’s a half smoked joint resting on his nightstand, and we have no idea where we threw our clothes.

“…fuck.”

[mostly-imagines]

Banished

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason misses his girlfriend

warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)

Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.

Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes while Tim has sat atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.

Damian trudges into the room, past them and onto the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.

He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”

Jason just grunts.

He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.

But it’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He secretly wouldn’t really mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stayed behind. A lose-lose for Jason.

“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.

Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”

Jason keeps his head down as he blindly reaches for the spoon in his cereal and chucks it at Tim’s head.

Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”

“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.

Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”

“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.

Damian pauses.

“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.

“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.

Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”

It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.

Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.

He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.

Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.

He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.

And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.

And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.

Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.

But you could.

Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.

He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.

He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.

And he watches Jason.

As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.

He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.

He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.

The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.

✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨

[sknyuz]

prompt — “i’m so undeniably screwed for this woman.”

pairing — woozi x reader

genre — fluffy fluff, opposites attract, tiny bit of woozi’s inner turmoil but in a cute way

warnings — light swearing, mutual pining, woozi being emotionally constipated but adorable about it

word count — 600(?) i literally planned longer but my brain farted

note: nonchalant woozi + sunshine reader <3 thank you for this request hehe.

masterlist

he’s watching you again.

not in a weird way. not in a creepy way. probably.

it’s just—you’re laughing. again. and it’s the kind of laugh that bursts out of you like soda fizz, bright and sparkling, and it fills the whole studio. and he’s just—well...

“hyung,” seungkwan says, walking past with his laptop and a raised brow, “you’re staring again.” he sing-songs, rolling his eyes.

woozi blinks, caught.

“i’m not,” he replies, flatly.

“sure,” seungkwan sings, disappearing down the hall.

woozi sighs and sinks further into his chair. you’re sitting cross-legged on the studio couch, scrolling through your phone, earbuds in and completely oblivious to the absolute chokehold you’ve put him in.

and that’s the problem. you always are.

you’re warm, expressive, a walking serotonin shot. you light up every room you walk into and talk with your hands and cry over dog videos and compliment strangers’ outfits just because. you're the type of person who remembers birthdays, texts people good luck before big meetings, and bakes cookies on random tuesdays "just because you felt like it."

and woozi?

woozi is the guy who pretends not to hear compliments because he doesn’t know how to take them, he expresses love through perfectly mixed vocal tracks and buying your favorite snacks and pretending he’s not checking his phone every two minutes waiting for your reply.

and yet you’re here all the time.

you come by the studio even when he doesn’t ask. you bring coffee and snacks and once a tiny plush keychain because "it looked like you and i couldn't not buy it." you ask about his day like you really want to know. you hug him goodbye even though he never hugs back (not properly, anyway).

and sometimes you sit quietly beside him for hours, just vibing, while he works on music. humming under your breath. asking questions about things he thought no one ever noticed. like the way he softens the instrumental under the bridge to highlight the vocals. or how he layers harmonies to make the chorus sound fuller.

you notice everything—and it’s driving him insane.

because he’s not supposed to feel this soft. not when he barely knows what to do with his feelings half the time, not when you smile at him like you know something he doesn’t, like you’re waiting for him to catch up.

“you okay?” you ask suddenly, pulling out your earbuds and tilting your head at him. he startles slightly, coughing. “yeah.”

“you were spacing out,” you grin. “thinking hard, genius?”

he huffs a laugh, turns back to his screen. “something like that.”

you shuffle over and peer at his monitor, chin on his shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he doesn’t move. doesn’t breathe. you’re close enough that he can smell your shampoo. something citrusy. fresh. “is this the new demo?” you whisper, like it’s a secret.

he nods.

“can i hear it?”

“it’s not done yet.”

“i don’t care.” you whisper, leaning in close to his ear.

and he sighs, already knowing that he’d lost to you with just one look. he hits play and pretends his heart isn’t doing backflips while you listen with that furrowed brow and soft smile. you always listen like this—like the song is a person you’re trying to understand.

when it ends, you turn to him, eyes wide. “woozi. that’s so good. it sounds like falling in love.”

he snorts, ducking his head. “that’s not what it’s about.”

“still feels like it,” you shrug.

he glances at you, a little helpless. you’re too close. too real. too much.

“you always say the dumbest stuff,” he mutters, but his voice is weirdly fond. you grin at this like you know you’ve won something. “you love it.”

and that’s the thing, isn’t it?

he does.

god help him, but he does. and his grumpy disposition falters as he rubs his palm into his eyes.

“i’m so undeniably screwed for this woman,” he mutters under his breath, almost too quiet to hear.

oh, but you hear it.

you blink, going still. lips part like you’re about to say something, but nothing comes out. instead, you stare at him with an amused look on your face.

his eyes widen slightly, and for the first time in a long time, he feels his composure crack.

“…shit,” he curses, throwing his head back. “did i say that out loud?”

you blink again. then smile, slow and warm and soft enough to melt him right there in the chair.

“yeah,” you say. “you did.”

a beat passes. he opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again.

“…okay.” he pathetically mumbles,

and then you’re laughing. again. that same fizzy, unstoppable laugh, and you bump your shoulder into his and say, “about time.”

he stares at you, and you stare back. then you reach over and take his hand—gently, casually, like you’ve done it a hundred times—and squeeze.

“don’t worry,” you whisper. “seems like we’re both in trouble, then. you make me feel like i got a few screws loose, lee jihoon.”

and woozi, ever the calm, composed, nonchalant musical genius that he is—completely short-circuits.

join here!

if you liked this, i appreciate a reblog as well :3 it helps my works and writing spread to other ppl very effectively !!

𐔌 . ⋮ taglist .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱ @ateez-atiny380 @alien0n3arth @cuppasunu

[nezuscribe]

(slightly suggestive)

another little drabble for arranged marriage!gojo but imagine a moment before he confessed but something was looming over the two of you. it was crossing the line of friends, not necessarily husband and wife, but two people desperately in love and didn't know how to say it.

you were in one of your late-night frenzies, your brain so muddled with every thought that you decided to do what you knew best: bake.

you often find yourself in this situation as of late, but it truly seems to be the only thing that helps. you wanted to tell gojo how you were feeling, but it was too far in, so you decided something simple and sugary would help you in the moment.

at this point, the walk to the kitchens was something you could do blind, and considering how many times you did this, you already knew where all the ingredients were.

you set out your sugar and flower, and go rummaging in the cold cellar for some butter and eggs. you try not to think about how at dinner gojo slid closer to you, your arms touching as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. or how a couple days ago he had found you in the library, reading next to a windowsill, cozying up next to you as he read the book over your shoulder.

you're so lost in your head with sifting the ingredients that you fail to realize that the very man himself had come up secretly behind you, curiously watching you in your element.

(he'd never admit that he'd first gone to your room, and only came down here after he realized you were gone).

but, unlike the last couple of times, you'd gotten used to his stealthy ways. he was quiet, sure, but you could recognize him by his slight breath alone, or the way he smelled faintly of cloves.

you try not to let your breathing hitch, or let a smile grow on your face as you decide to break the silence.

"if you try to scare me while i'm baking you better rethink your choices," you warn him and hear gojo snicker quietly behind you.

gojo moves from where he was standing, and he leans his back against the counter next to you, craning his neck to look over at your bowl.

your eyes dart to the side, to the way his arms are resting behind him as he balances himself back on them (or the way his arms bulge and veins pop).

"what's on your mind tonight?" gojo asks, knowing you only do this now whenever you're stressed out.

"not much," you mutter, despite wanting to say you, you're on my mind.

he tsks, not buying your lie as he leans in a little close, his head blocking your view of your mixing bowl as he tries to get a little taste with his fingers.

"hey!" you cry, smacking him lightly on the back of his neck, "your hands are all grimy!"

you watch as he peers at you from the corner of his eyes, glaring at your offensive remark as he retracts away, a small pout on his face as you grin in slight victory.

"my hands are clean," you hear him mumble petulantly and you chuckle, rolling your eyes at his antics. the closer the two of you got, the more you found out that his closed-off and aloof demeanor was just a facade for a dramatic, grouchy man-child.

there's a comfortable silence for a moment, one where you're mixing and one where he watches you mix. you don't really notice the quiet anymore, just another added sound when you and gojo grow more comfortable together.

"how was your day?" he finally asks, a simple question, but you know he's using it as a mask to find out what was wrong with you.

"good," you say with a shrug, starting to gently fold in your wet mixture with your dry one, "you weren't at dinner so i was actually able to eat in peace," you add, trying to sound indifferent when really it's what spurred this entire thing on. how, when you realized that you missed seeing him, talking to him, being near him, you were really, really, missing him. and that's not how friends are supposed to act. or, at least, from what you've heard.

gojo smiles, a soft look on his face. you're trying to be sarcastic, he knows that, but there's something...deeper behind your words, something that he too feels.

"the eastern tribe took up more time than i thought they would," he explains, his blue eyes glowing when he notices the way you slightly relax, "i tried telling them that my wife was waiting for me, but apparently peace negotiations can't be postponed."

you bite your lips, trying to hold back your giddy smile at his words. you know he's probably teasing you, using the phrase my wife as a way to get out of a boring meeting, but you love it nonetheless.

he knows you do.

"those bastards," you murmur teasingly, hearing his loud laugh as he lightly shoves you with the point of his boot.

"yeah, well, they don't have wives back home," he crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his lips into a thin line, "so they don't know the feeling."

you swallow thickly, not looking over at him when he says that.

there's another silence as you continue to fold the batter, sensing that same feeling wash over the two of you.

"let me grab a..." you turn around, head craning to look for a spoon to dip in the batter, needing to make sure the sweetness wasn't too overbearing (and because you liked tasting the batter before it was sent off to be baked thoroughly), but stop when gojo pulls the bowl in closer to him.

you watch as he glides his finger across the sides, not letting it touch the actual bulk of the mixture, and brings it forth towards your lips.

his brows cock upwards, as if he was waiting for you to try it.

you give him a look, nose slightly wrinkled.

"i swear my hands are clean," he promises, crossing one hand over his chest as a sort of pledge, but that's not what holding you back, shouldn't he know that?

your mind is working to beat the thrill of your heart, the one that's pulling you towards him like a magnet, the one that desperately wants to have his finger in your mouth.

you bite your cheek for a second, eyes flickering up from his to his finger, and some sort of heat in you takes control as one hand gently grabs his wrist, pulling his hand closer to your parted lips.

your tongue darts out, your mouth closing over the digit as you taste the sugary batter coating your tongue. you feel dizzy, your stomach twisting, a heat taking over your body as your tongue swipes over it, licking it clean.

it's nothing overexaggerated, nothing too crazy. you lick his finger the way you'd like your own, but fuck, this isn't your own finger and gojo's looking at you with his pupils blown wide, the blacks overtaking the blue in his eyes.

your hand is still holding his wrist, your lips gliding over it as you pull away, breathing slightly less when you glance up at him.

gojo swallows thickly, hoping you don't see the bulge that's growing in his pants.

"good?" he chokes out, his voice thick in his throat.

"yeah," you mutter, the batter still lingering on your tastebuds, "it's perfect."

fuck, you're both screwed.

[drewswife]

summary — Rafe meets your 2-year-old son for the first time

warnings — none fluff kinda

a/n — this been in my drafts for a whileeeeeeeeeee part 2

My palms were sweaty as I adjusted Leo on my hip. His small hand clutched a well-loved stuffed dinosaur, its felt scales worn smooth. Today was a big day. A really big day. Rafe was finally going to meet Leo.

We'd been together for a few months, a whirlwind of late-night talks and stolen moments. He knew about Leo, of course. How could he not? My world revolved around my little man. But this was different. This was the first time these two important parts of my life would collide.

The doorbell rang, and my heart leaped into my throat. I took a deep breath, gave Leo a reassuring squeeze, and opened the door.

Rafe stood there, a nervous smile on his face. He looked endearingly awkward, his usual easy confidence slightly dimmed. In his hands, he held a small, brightly colored book.

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes finding mine.

"Hi," I replied, trying to match his calm demeanor, even though my insides were doing the cha-cha slide. "Come in."

He stepped inside, his gaze immediately drawn to the small human nestled on my hip. Leo, usually shy around new people, peered at Rafe with wide, curious eyes.

"Hey there, little guy," Rafe said gently, crouching down. He held out the book. "I brought you a friend."

Leo hesitated for a moment, then reached out a chubby hand and took the book. It was about a friendly monster. He immediately began flipping through the pages, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Rafe looked up at me, a hopeful expression on his face. "He likes it?"

I smiled, relief washing over me. "He loves books. You scored major points."

The next hour was a careful dance. Rafe kept his distance at first, letting Leo explore him on his own terms. He spoke softly, asking Leo about his dinosaur and pointing out the pictures in the book. Leo, surprisingly, seemed intrigued. He’d occasionally glance up at Rafe, then back down at his book, a small, hesitant curiosity blooming.

The real breakthrough came when Leo, mid-roar, stumbled slightly.

Before I could react, Rafe was there, steadying him with a gentle hand on his back. Leo looked up at him, his eyes wide for a moment, then he giggled and went right back to his dinosaur.

From that moment on, the ice seemed to melt. Leo started inching closer to Rafe, eventually plopping down on the floor near him, still engrossed in his book. Rafe didn't try to force interaction, but he kept a watchful eye on him, answering my questions in a low voice.

Later, as Rafe was getting ready to leave, Leo did something that made my heart swell. He toddled over to Rafe, clutching his dinosaur, and held it out.

Rafe looked surprised, then a warm smile spread across his face. He knelt down and gently took the dinosaur. "Thank you, buddy," he said softly.

Leo then did the most Leo thing imaginable. He yawned widely, rubbed his eyes, and leaned against Rafe's leg, his little body heavy with sleepiness.

Rafe looked up at me, his eyes filled with a tenderness I hadn't seen before. I knew in that moment that this was the beginning of something special. It wasn't just about Rafe and me anymore. It was about us, all three of us, finding our own rhythm.

As I carried a now-sleeping Leo to bed, I glanced back at Rafe, who was still standing by the door, the little monster book in his hand. He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached his eyes.

"He's amazing," Rafe whispered.

"He is," I agreed, my heart full.

🏷,@zenithsturniolo @starrii-sturns @spencerreid66

[comikbook]

so you talk about your religious trauma and it’s a major theme in your art, and i was wondering what your current relationship with religion is? is in, do you practice any religion or consider yourself religious? if it isn’t too personal :)

im willing to answer !! i dont talk about it on most of my socials outright because people tend to misinterpret things intensely when it comes to this kind of topic, but ill give it a shot trying to write it out. In fact, I will give the whole story of my experience with religion. So its gonna be long.

there will be talk of psychosis, eating disorders, delusions, and self harm in this post. However I will not be graphic in my descriptions.

To start out I suppose for context, my parents are not catholic. my mom doesn’t talk about religion, and my dad doesnt follow anything in the real sense, but practices a lot of principals of buddhism. My nana was catholic, and my extended family vary in their religious beliefs.

That being said, (i think to my nana’s influence) when i started school i attended a small private catholic school which has since been shut down. fun fact ! if you’ve ever watched the Netflix doc “The Keepers” my school was only about 3 miles from where one of the nun’s bodies were found. The priest who was suspected to be the one to blame previously taught at the school i went to before moving to the one he is known for teaching at. Not really relevant, but i did always feel a bit uneasy there as a child so it was a weird thing to find out later.

Anyways, I attended this catholic school for 3 years. pre-k, kindergarden, and first grade. I would often ask to use the restroom and just wander around the halls or hide in the bathroom. I would get scolded for asking questions that were “inappropriate”. The one i remember most vividly was “If God created all of us, who created God ?” to one of the nuns, who became upset with me. We weren’t taught whar we should have been, and when I did move to public school i was far behind my peers in specifically science, math, and history, but I digress. This is my one class photo from our yearbook !

It is important to note that my first remembered instance of psychosis started when i attended this private school. My mom was picking me up one day, there was heavy traffic. She was trying to get over and was complaining no one would let her. I caught myself staring at my reflection in the front mirror of the car, and the clicking of the blinker kind of overwhelmed me. In the constant clicking I “decoded” a message that involved me being told to do something particularly violent. In my small brain in addition to my outside influences, I thought the person that sent this message to me was God. I was confused as to why, but I felt i did something wrong to deserve it. i quietly prayed in the back seat internally for forgiveness.

So I started to receive more messages from “God” commanding me to do something or another, typically vile in some way. i would hear this voice in my head frequently, until eventually it faded out and stopped. I dont remember when it stopped, i just remember i had this experience as a child and then when i was a little older i just didnt think about it anymore.

I do have gaps in my memory of my childhood, pretty big ones, for reasons im still struggling to understand to this day. So that makes things fuzzy. I do remember falling back into religion briefly in middle school, but eventually fell out of it again.

As i approached the end of highschool my mental health was tanking. Mostly with depression and anxiety, however this wouldnt be the worst it would get. In 2019 I was in college and things were getting increasingly worse. I was one of the few people that loved the isolation of the quarantine actually, i fear if not for that what was to come would have been way worse.

My symptoms of psychosis started to creep back into my life. I was already isolating before the quarantine, but got worse after it had started. I know i said i enjoyed it, and i did, but it also fed into some bad habits. Anyways I was becoming increasingly scared and paranoid, I was actively self harming, I was extremely depressed. I had plans to take my own life, a few of them actually. I started eating less. I didnt think much of it, I was just depressed, i have been depressed most of my life so this was just a particularly bad bout for me is what i thought.

That is, until one night where I had my first psychotic episode. It remains to be the worst and only very big episode i have had. I dealt with it mostly alone, never alerting my family of it. I was on the phone with one friend i had at the time, although they were not the kindest to me overall. Despite that they sat with me. This episode led to me standing in one place for over 2 hours too scared to move. When I finally did, it seemed to trigger a more violent outburst.

I wont go into too much detail but i left the experience cried out, bloodied, and heavily bruised. My legs were entirely black and blue for over a month following. After this episode I finally decided to try to get help, and I met with my psychiatrist for the first time. I was immediately put on several antidepressants which ended up being beneficial but in the beginning caused me to lose my appetite entirely. This is when i fell more and more into my eating disorder. With this though, I was still experiencing delusions and hallucinations and got put on my first antipsychotic.

It helped with my symptoms, and it helped me get back to a normal weight. Even tho at the time I was abusing my adderall I was still able to get my body (mostly) back to normal, at least physically. That being said, while my symptoms were lessened they were not gone, it just became less scary to me. Maybe it was because I was being desensitized, but thats something to ponder another time.

I started to become more and more infatuated with catholicism again from that original episode forward. I was obsessed and that voice of god returned to me. I started hearing clicking and chirping coming from the back of my right ear, which ive dubbed as a “chip” in my brain placed by god for me to receive his messages. I thought there was an evil inside of me that needed to be let out, which i did by participating in frequent bloodletting to force out the bad, and make my body create newer, cleaner, and holier blood. This was something i felt I had to keep up often so that this evil force wouldnt take over. I was eventually able to stop self harming, and have been clean for over 2 years now. It is hard and i still feel the need to “cleanse” myself, but i try my best to push it down.

Fast foreward to 2022 and I would start the first piece in my painting series. I still experienced symptoms but much less frequently ! I started to detail my experience thru art. I would finish the first piece in my series titled “Forgive Me Father” in 2023. Since then I have made many more.

So we finally get to today. I have waited to talk about my current relationship with religion until the end as I felt the context was necessary, and to be honest it is complicated. As you can tell, It has effected me greatly and has come and gone in my life.

I would say from where I am now, I am not religious. A better way to put it i suppose is i consciously make the choice to not be. Like I said its complicated.

I like to think of it as there is two of me in my body. One is paranoid, scared, and extremely delusional. This is the part that still believes god is communicating with them. This is the person that still prays for forgiveness and cries over the fear of being sent to hell for their sins, all approved and constructed by god himself. and then theres my rational side, which exists im sure solely because of my medication. This part is extremely self aware, can tell when i am being delusional or irrational, who knows this is something caused by my illness. They exist side by side, at the same time, always. They fight in my head for control but always exist simultaniously, think of it like a pie chart. one may be more prevelant but the other is still always there.

So in a way, there is a lot I do personally believe. That being said the reason I do believe is because of my schizophrenia. So I choose to navigate my life as someone who actively does not believe as an attempt to not let the delusion control me. do i think people who are religious are delusional ? I do not, but I know in my personal case what leads me to believe these things is an unwell mind.

I still have an intense fascination with catholicism and religion in general. I think its a beautiful thing, it moves me, but i must keep it at a distance to avoid hurting me. It is not something I can actively engage in outside of general interest because it would kill me, and despite my previous statements i would like to live at least a little longer haha.

With all that said, and I doubt anyone will read this whole thing, its been a rollercoaster of a ride. If anyone has questions about it, feel free to ask. Im an open book about this stuff online most days, and Im willing to offer any information about it.

[ddejavvu]

Helloo!! Sooo I have a picture of mgg as my lock screen but his face isn’t in the picture and I was wonderinggg if you could write about the girls at the bau seeing your background of your phone and it’s some guy but they don’t know it’s spencer and they ask all these questions about this mysterious secret boyfriend you have and asking to meet him and r is just like maybeeee idk knowing that they have in fact met him and maybe spencer is near by and hearing all this and is just all shy and flustered. If you do write this THANK YOUUU you’re writing it phenomenal, one of a kind, it’s so good!!! <333

"Woah, hubba hubba," JJ's eyes bug out at your phone screen, and Emily, forever on JJ's wavelength, snatches it out of your hands before you can properly dim the screen.

"Who is that?" Emily asks everyone's burning question, and one of Penelope's hands squeezes yours, with nails, to emphasize her urgency.

Your lock screen is a picture of Spencer's bare chest clad only in a blazer, the front open in a lewd V that showcases the dark pink kiss marks you'd spread across the smattering of wiry curls he's grown. It's not something you'd meant to flash your coworkers with, and Spencer chokes on his water while Derek hoots and hollers at it.

"There are some things that should be kept private," Rossi drawls, eyes wide and haunted as he stands, "I'm going to get Aaron and myself another refill, just in case any worse pictures get shown around the table."

Hotch laughs at the older man, amusement lining his features handsomely as the group continues to tease you.

"So, when are you bringing this guy around? Not that we'd recognize him anyways, unless he showed up shirtless with lipstick all over him."

"Derek, you-" You barely stop yourself from saying, 'you have met him', instead swerving into an easy insult, "You're the last person I want to introduce him to. You'll never let us live this down."

"None of us will." Prentiss promises, her grin wolfish, "You'll be lucky if Garcia doesn't manage to track him down using nipple-recognition software."

Your technical analyst cackles into her drink, and Spencer makes a hasty getaway.

"I need the bathroom," He paws with burning cheeks at Derek's leg, ushering the man out of his way so that he can speed-walk to the bathroom. You watch him go, hearing Hotch let out a rare laugh at his urgency.

"Poor Spence," JJ croons, "Did you see how red his face was?"

"That kid's almost thirty and I bet he can't even say the word 'sex' without blushing." Derek scoffs.

"He can't. I've seen it." Garcia confirms, "It's pathetic."

"Pathetic," You snort, but what your team hears as agreement, you mean as contradiction. Spencer was nothing close to pathetic that night- sweet and tender, yes, but pathetic, no. He'd cupped your face while you'd spread a smattering of sticky kisses across his chest, and he'd stared into your eyes when you'd taken the picture, a smile on his face even though he'd known his grin wouldn't be in frame.

"Well get all of it out now," Hotch advises, a teasing tone in his voice, "Spencer won't come back if we're still talking about it."

"I'm happy for you." Dave states, setting his and Aaron's drinks down, "But so help me, Y/N, if I ever see your boyfriend's naked torso again, I'll kill myself."

You refrain from telling Rossi he had just seen your boyfriend's bare torso, last week when Spencer had needed to be stripped of his cold, wet clothes, and thrust into a heated blanket for warmth. No one had batted an eye at his brief nudity, and neither had you, because you'd memorized every inch of his skin. You didn't need to ogle him; you could recall his body from memory.

"I'll keep that in mind." You nod at Rossi sagely, "Just don't go through the rest of my camera roll." You see Spencer exit the bathroom, peering cautiously at your table to see if he can predict the conversation before returning, "Or you'll find a lot worse than his chest."

[noisilyscreechingsong]

“The what?”

Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.

So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.

Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.

“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.

“Same,” Danny agrees.

“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.

The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.

“Bet.”

They look at Duke.

Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.

Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.

“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.

“What’d you see?”

Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.

“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.

“Need a hand?”

Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.

“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.

Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”

“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.

Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.

“Whoa-“

Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.

The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.

“Holy crap! Danny!”

“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”

“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.

“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.

The three brothers all pause and look at him.

“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.

“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.

Danny pulls it back out of reach.

“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.

“What do you-“

But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.

The batboys glance at each other.

“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”

“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”

“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.

“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”

“Cool. That’s fine.”

**

After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.

[ssahotchnerr]

hi!!! could you write aaron x bau! reader, where jack accidentally finds a positive pregnancy test in the bathroom or somewhere in a drawer before reader gets a chance to tell aaron)))🫶🏻

tells

omg omg i could cry 🫶🏻🥹 cw; pregnant bau!reader, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, a ton of fluff <3 wc; 1k

"Hi sweetheart."

Aaron's eyes rose as you entered his office, before returning to the files laid atop his desktop, a paper in his right hand. His stare had lingered momentarily, so he noticed the bag in your hand. "Heading out?"

"Yup, gotta pick up Jack." You replied, hoping you sounded somewhat normal, given your current circumstances. You felt as if your voice was borderline squeaky, in that attempt to remain normal, while also resisting the urge to bounce on your toes. "You coming with?"

On another note, you were so incredibly thankful to be leaving early; overwhelmed with nausea, back pain, fatigue. Ginger ale had been within arm's reach all day, an achingly long day. Laying in bed had never sounded more appealing.

"No, I wish I could. There's a few consults I need to look over before tomorrow. It shouldn't take too long, though." He got up, inching towards you, "I can, however, spare some time for you."

Your nose scrunched in amusement, leaning up to peck his lips, "You're too good to me."

He chased your lips, murmuring into the kiss with a soft smirk and teasing you right back, "I do try."

After the two of you pulled away (and a whistle echoed outside from a passing Derek Morgan), you toyed with his tie, smoothing it cleanly against his torso. "Don't stay too late, okay?"

"I won't." Aaron kissed you once, twice more before retreating back to his desk. He held onto your hand for as long as possible, causing it to fall gracefully to your side. "I'll be home before dinner, I promise."

Instead of leaving, all you could do was stand there; staring at him, completely giddy. The secret you held, it made you feel a whole new kind of love when you looked at him. The father of your unborn child, the perfect addition to your family. A new love you had created together.

Aaron's gaze lifted, catching you ogling him, a confused smile forming on his face. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all." You shrugged, forcing your feet towards the door. "I'll see you at home."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, playfully. He absolutely didn't buy it. "Okay, drive safe."

-

"Hi." Jack greeted, climbing into the backseat and shutting the door behind him. He struggled the smallest amount, his backpack weighing him down.

"Hey Jackers," You twisted behind, offering a warm smile, "have a good day?"

"Yeah." He verified, and left it at that. He simply settled in, buckling up.

While you had thought you were the one being strange, he was definitely more so. As you took the route home, he remained quiet in the back, rather than being his usual talkative, wanting-to-tell-you-everything-about-his-day self. You peered at him in the rearview, observing him.

He didn't look pale, so hopefully he wasn't coming down with something. He didn't seem upset - his eyebrows always pinched together in worry when he was. Even this morning during breakfast for instance, he seemed far away, off in his own world. If you didn't know any better, he looked on edge, but in a jittery, seemingly excited way. Antsy, and oddly familiar.

"You okay?"

Jack nodded, keeping his eyes out the window. His absorbed expression indicated the gears continuing to turn in his mind.

"Did something happen today? You're awfully quiet."

"I have a question."

You stopped the car, arriving home, turning around in your seat again to fully look at him. "You know you can ask me anything. Whatever's on your mind, nothing's off limit."

His eyes lit up, hopeful yet quizzical. He quietly and timidly asked, "Am I getting a baby brother or sister?"

You blinked at him, surprised, as that was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. But you couldn't stop the small smile tugging its way onto your face. Not only because you were happy, of course, but you also didn't want him thinking he had done something wrong. "What makes you ask that?"

"I wasn't snooping, I promise. I went into your bathroom to look for some floss - Dad said I could, said it was in the top left drawer - and I saw it, it said pregnant. But I didn't mean to see, I swear."

Your expression softened sweetly, a gentle laugh escaping you too, "It's okay buddy, that's completely on me. I didn't do a very good job of concealing it at all."

An adorable, boyish smile pulled at his lips, the words leaving him shyly. He could infer the answer, but he needed the actual confirmation. "So... am I?"

After a moment's silence, letting the suspense linger, you confirmed, your heart bursting as you did. "You are."

"Yes!" He nearly shouted, immediately unbuckling his seatbelt and throwing his arms around you, as much as he could with the obstacle of the driver's seat. His arms mainly reached around your neck.

You laughed gleefully, your hands raising to his arms, squeezing them gently - a makeshift hug for the meantime. Tears dared to spill down your cheeks, overwhelmed with emotion.

He released the embrace, sobering for a moment and the realization beginning to fully set in. "I'm really getting a sister?"

"It could be a boy too." You arched a brow, grinning.

"Yeah," he matched your smile, buzzing with happiness. "And I'd love that too. But, I think it's gonna be a girl."

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see." You shrugged coyly, "It's still quite early, so we won't be able to find out for a couple weeks."

"Weeks?" He whined painfully, but it faded as fast as it had appeared. "I'm so excited. I can't wait."

"You wanna know something else?" He nodded profusely. "You're the only one who knows."

Jack's eyes brightened more if it were possible, in both exhilaration and shock. "Seriously?!"

For the meantime, it was a special secret, shared just between the two of you. You could've sobbed right there, between his genuine sweetness and excitement. And the hormones.

Regardless, he was going to be the best big brother.

"Dad doesn't know?"

"Not yet. I was brainstorming how to tell him, how to tell you, but you were just too quick for me." You flashed him a teasing grin. "That means you have to help me come up with a fun way to tell him, and quick, because I think he's onto me. Deal?"

Jack held out his pinky, interlocking it with yours. "Deal."

[tetsvya]

clueless, kuroo tetsuro

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!

➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader

➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers

➼ word count! about 1.4k

➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡

"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.

Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!

"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.

"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.

Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."

"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"

"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"

"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."

"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."

"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."

Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.

"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."

There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?

"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."

All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.

Right?

A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.

"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"

Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"

"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"

Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."

"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.

"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.

"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"

"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"

"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"

"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.

"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.

Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."