#considering new environment of course

[solvicrafts]

I find it interesting that Rai'gy considered Sharlotta repulsive, while Kimmuriel saw her as exotic, and I think this little bit here is actually pretty revealing about their mindsets and the differing levels of potential they both had for adapting to life on the surface and the possibility of even forming healthy connections.

[pathologicalreid]

for the fear of falling apart | part two

returning to Everett Lynch's case, you try to redefine normalcy with Spencer and JJ, but Grace Lynch has other plans for you

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst, hurt/comfort content warnings: gun violence, spoilers/references to: 9x6 "in the blood", 9x14 "200", 9x23 "angels", 9x24 "demons", 13x22 "believer", 14x1 "300", 14x15 "truth or dare". rewrite of 15x1 "under the skin", 15x2 "awakenings". a lot of dialogue is pulled directly from the show. hospitals/medical information. diana's alzheimers. marriage talk. roslyn's suicide. the parentification of jennifer jareau. mommy AND daddy issues. fear of drowning. word count: 7.48k a/n: it's two days late, but it's three times longer than part one. welcome to the abyss of my brain. it's scary in here.

Your name was being called. First, it felt far away, slowly coming closer and closer, lifting you to the surface as if you were being pulled. The sound was muffled until you broke through the barrier, a female voice clearly called your name, prompting your eyes to fly open, and there you were, sitting up on Penelope’s velvet couch, cocooned in a crocheted blanket with what was sure to be a remarkable bedhead.

Lifting your hand and placing it over your racing heart, you looked up at Penelope, the blue streak that you had redone for her last night prominent against her blonde hair. “Hey,” you said, widening your eyes and letting the blanket fall from your shoulders.

She crooked a brow at you suspiciously. For someone who wasn’t a profiler, she did have a knack for reading people, but you supposed it came with the territory. “My darling girl, you are always more than welcome to sleep on my couch, it’s a wonderful couch, I have spent my fair share of nights sleeping on it,” she rambled, sitting down next to you and taking your hands in hers. “You’re hiding,” she told you softly, “What are you hiding from?”

Penelope reached out to you, sweeping a messy strand of hair behind your ear as her big, brown eyes looked at you sympathetically. The gesture and the way she was speaking to you nearly approached being sisterly. At the idea of developing a supplemental sororal relationship with the technical analyst, you pulled away from her. You shook your head, “I’m not hiding,” you told her simply, leaving her with a half-truth as you stood up and began folding the blanket that had kept you warm overnight.

Nodding incredulously, she looked up at you, “If your Luddite boyfriend is blowing up my phone, then something has to be going on.” Her tone was urgent, but she stayed seated, giving you an advantage.

“Nothing’s wrong, Pen,” you reassured her, shaking your head and shrugging simultaneously.

Her face filled with doubt, glancing over at your cellphone as it buzzed on the coffee table, Spencer’s contact flashing on the touchscreen as you ignored the call. “Why didn’t you tell him you were staying with me last night?”

Pressing your lips in a thin white line, you briefly considered coming clean. You envisioned the truth coming out of you in puddles, everything you had been holding close to your chest for the last month pouring out like alphabet soup, but Penelope didn’t deserve that burden. “I just forgot,” you told her, watching the screen go dark.

Spencer was a worrier by the influence of his environment. Adamantly against getting a new phone, he couldn’t see your location at any given moment. His first course of action was usually calling your sister before resorting to Penelope, who not only has your location on her phone but also has access to your location in the bureau database. It wasn’t a fault of his, members of the BAU did have a tendency to disappear in the dead of the night.

She urged you to call him back as her phone started going off, her shoulders slumping forward, a tell-tale sign that the BAU was being pulled in on a case. If you were lucky, you would be able to slip through the cracks, claiming to put all of your focus into the case so that you didn’t need to have an in-depth conversation with your boyfriend. Or your sister, for that matter.

“Where are we headed?” You asked, rolling up your sleeves and crossing your arms in front of your stomach.

Penelope frowned at the tiny screen in front of her, “Baltimore,” she said hesitantly, “Uh, we gotta go. I’ll drive? You can call Spencer on the way,” she suggested before bolting into the bathroom.

You ended up avoiding the call to Spencer yet again, claiming you’d see him at the office anyway, and instead opening yourself up to a barrage of questions.

Was there cheating? Are you pregnant? Were you pregnant? Did he propose? Did you say no? Did you say yes?

The two of you parted as she went to prepare files and you waltzed into the bullpen, clocking the vase of flowers on your desk immediately. They, of course, weren’t just flowers, but a carefully calculated decision made to try and get into your good graces. This was the fifth vase that had been delivered in the last month.

First, there were honeysuckles, a symbol of devoted affection. Red carnations told you that his heart ached for you. A bouquet of daisies because he truly loved you. Last week, white lilies were left on your desk, a symbol of pure love.

Now, a bunch of apple blossoms sat on your desk, telling you that he preferred you before anyone else. How poignant.

Your eyes burned as you looked around the bullpen, hoping he was around so you could return the flowers to him, but the only people you saw were Emily and Rossi, sequestered in her office in the middle of what seemed to be a tense discussion. Choosing to ignore the flowers, you walked over to your desk, tucking your go-bag underneath and starting to power up your computer.

“Hey, Y/N?” Emily called from her office, “Can you head to the file room and pull everything from the Lynch case?” She didn’t even wait for an answer before closing the door again.

Concerned, you turned around and started making your way to the file room. If Everett Lynch was back, that would explain the worried look on Penelope’s face when the case came in. Even more, that would explain why Emily and Rossi were hidden in her office. Every member of the team wanted to see Lynch locked up for what he’s done, but for Dave it was personal.

Opening the file room, you pulled open the drawer of active cases from the past three months, starting to strip the drawer of anything even remotely related to Everett Lynch. The revelation that Grace was his daughter took everyone by surprise, but Spencer still felt responsible for Luke getting knifed. You should talk to him about it, you thought to yourself, if he didn’t talk about it, he’d just continue to internalize it.

“I need to talk to you,” a voice said suddenly from behind you, jolting you away from your train of thought. Spinning on your heel, you looked at Spencer.

Alarmed, you huffed, “You scared me,” you informed him, clutching the files close to your chest as you studied his stature. He looked fine, his hair was a bit of a mess, but he was wearing the red cardigan that you had gotten him for Christmas last year. You didn’t even want to begin to consider the implications of his outfit choice.

He furrowed his brows at you, “I scared you? You disappeared last night without a word, and I scared you?” There wasn’t even a hint of anger in his voice, instead, his words dripped in sweet melancholy, and you couldn’t look away from him.

You thought about your sister, snatched from the nation’s capital in the middle of the night as vengeance for her work with the CIA. Spencer and Penelope, both taken from what should have been a secure FBI building by a cult that bore a decade-long grudge against the BAU. You had frightened him, probably tripping his overactive mind into believing you were destined to meet a similar fate – dying in a warehouse somewhere. Blinking absently, you shook your head at him, “I’m sorry,” you told him, and you meant it.

“You’re punishing me,” he accused, crossing his arms in front of his chest before quickly dropping them, being hypervigilant about his body language.

Skimming your tongue over the backs of your teeth nervously, you hesitantly met his gaze. He seemed to be convinced that you were punishing him for the events that had taken place last month, but you were inclined to believe that you were punishing yourself, he was caught in your crossfire. “It’s not a punishment, Spence,” you whispered, watching how his brown eyes shone under the fluorescent lights.

His shoulders dropped, disappointment plain on his face, “I missed you at the baby shower,” he confessed.

“Sprinkle,” you corrected.

“Semantics,” he retorted, and it almost brought a smile to your face.

You looked down at the files in your arms, not even realizing that you had been white-knuckling the classified information, “I was there,” you disputed. “I saw you. I brought the gift and put both of our names on it. What more could I have done?”

Rolling his eyes, he gave you a tilted look, “Standing together in the group photo would’ve been nice.”

In response, you straightened up your back, “Ah, you were too busy standing with my sister,” you quipped, bringing the conversation back to the root of the conflict.

“Will you come home tonight? Stay with me?” Your heart clenched at his question.

Hesitantly, you nodded, “I’ll be there,” you assured him, securing the last of the files before sneaking around him, skillfully avoiding the remainder of your team as you made your way to the roundtable room.

“I’m worried about Dave,” you whispered, looking at the other end of the couch at your boyfriend, the two of you dressed in pajamas, your old Georgetown sweatshirt frayed at the cuffs, but it remained your favorite.

The orange print of his Caltech t-shirt was peeling up on the edges, sometimes, at night, you’d pick at the emblem – it drove Spencer crazy, especially when he woke up in a pile of picked vinyl. His mug was carefully resting in his hands as the two of you had a nighttime cup of tea, something you used to do when you had just started dating, and that you decided to try to bring back – chamomile for you, lavender for him. “I talked to him tonight,” he told you, turning to face you, “He’s.. he’ll be fine. He has Krystall.”

And I have you, you thought to yourself, lifting your mug to your lips and taking a sip. Sometimes you felt special for getting this side of Spencer, the ratty college t-shirt and flannel pajama pants that he wore while lounging on the worn leather couch.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” He asked when you didn’t respond, leaning forward and setting his mug on the coffee table.

Shaking your head, you followed suit, setting your mug on a coaster next to his before crawling closer to him on the couch, taking him by surprise. “Not yet,” you whispered, sitting down next to him, relieved when he responded by putting an arm around you. “I’m not mad at you,” you told him, “I just needed time.”

His arm was warm and familiar over your shoulders, having the same effect as a weighted blanket, calming you down with a simple touch. “To think,” he said, “you keep saying that. Are you… do you need more time?”

You closed your eyes, leaning into him, “I don’t think so, but I’m,” you faltered, frowning, “I’m having a hard time talking to my sister.” It wasn’t a secret that there had been some sort of falling out between the Jareau sisters, but the reasoning behind the rift remained a mystery to most people.

“I am too,” he admitted, skimming his fingertips up and down your arm. “I keep recalling everything that happened, and I don’t fully understand how everything got so messed up.

Raising your eyebrows, you remained in the crook of his arm, “People say a lot of things with a gun to their head.”

What you hadn’t considered was that following her admission, your sister would avoid Spencer. When you decided to avoid both of them, you had no idea what you were taking from him. “What would your truth have been?”

“I’m afraid that everything surrounding me is destined to fall apart,” you admitted. “I was brought into my family in an attempt to rescue my parents’ marriage, but it didn’t work.” Your sister slit her wrists open when you were only four years old, but somehow your father had put her death on your shoulders. JJ left home as soon as she could, leaving you at twelve years old with your grief-stricken mother, who had spent the last several decades waiting for the day her daughters would all be reunited.

Spencer was quiet for a while before responding to you, “We should go to bed.”

He was probably right, the team was expected to be in early tomorrow morning. After leaving well past dark, the last thing you wanted to think about was going back in before the sun had a chance to rise. “Wait,” you said, “What’s your truth?”

Briefly, his eyes flickered, looking down the length of your body, “My truth is that I’m tired, we should go to sleep,” he told you, herding you toward your shared bedroom.

“Same time tomorrow?” You asked, walking through the bedroom and into the ensuite, grabbing your toothbrush off the counter.

Nodding, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, “I’ll be there.”

Maybe you should’ve taken it as a sign that you were unphased by the revelation of a crazy doctor with a fetish for skinning people. The world had strange ways of telling you that you needed to take a step back, for every sign you had been given, you took a step forward. That was how you ended up in the backseat of an SUV with your sister at the wheel and Spencer in the passenger seat.

Everett Lynch had invaded the BAU’s territory, coming in like an infestation in the district, and he was trying to break his daughter Grace out of jail. You heard through the phone that they were scrambling tactics, using the walkie-talkies in the U.S. Attorney building to prevent their own capture.

The car came to a screeching halt, and the three of you piled out, “There’s no time,” your sister said, looking around, “We’ll cover this one,” she informed Spencer, looking back at you as you adjusted the strap of your Kevlar.

“I’ll take the garage on Piedmont and 10th,” Spencer responded dutifully, nodding at the both of you before turning around and running to the parking garage two blocks over.

You and your sister started to make your way into the larger of the two parking garages, both of you pulling your firearms and pointing them down, keeping yourselves aware of your surroundings. There was movement in front of you, two bodies moving toward a white van with federal plates – the Lynch’s. “Everett Lynch,” you called out, “Drop your weapon and put your hands up, now!”

The man in front of you – the so-called Chameleon – scoffed in disbelief, “Take it easy. There’s no reason to gun down a daddy in front of his little girl, right?” You kept your Glock aimed at him, watching intently as he carefully set his gun on the ground. Sirens started going off in your head, a premonition of things to come.

“Alright,” JJ shouted, “Kick it over. Grace, you too. Drop your backpack and let me see your hands. Come on, now!”

Putting her hands up, Grace let her backpack fall to the ground in a heap of fabric, you kept your gun trained on them as JJ lunged to the side, reaching over to pick up Everett’s gun from the ground. “Grace!” You shouted, watching the girl bring her hands down as she reached for something, “Put your hands back up!”

It was a split-second decision, but you watched as Grace lifted that gun in her hands, and you jumped. You knocked your sister over as three shots rang through the air, the first one grazed her arm. The next two lodged themselves in your side as the two of you fell to the ground, your body rolling along the ground as the father-daughter duo loaded themselves in the van before driving off.

JJ grabbed her weapon and shot after them, hoping to blow out one of their tires or at the very least slow them down, but with only one good arm, her aim was off. She scrambled to her feet, “Come on, Y/N,” she huffed, not checking behind her before running out of the parking garage.

You wanted nothing more than to follow her. Being angry wasn’t worth it anymore, you couldn’t freeze out your older sister anymore. You tried to breathe, you tried to call after her, but when you opened your mouth, the only thing that came out was blood.

For your entire life, you had followed her. When asked what you wanted to be when you grew up, you’d tell them you wanted to be like your big sister. You wanted to follow her, but you couldn’t move.

You followed her from East Allegheny to Washington D.C. You had followed her into this very parking garage. Now, all you could think about was following Roslyn, bleeding out on the cold hard floor, alone.

“Y/N, what’s your location?” Spencer’s voice rang through your radio.

You had never been shot before. You had always thought it would be cold to be shot, but instead, your whole body felt like it had been set on fire.

“Y/N, do you copy?”

The wetness of the blood should have made it cold.

“Y/N?”

Your fire was slowly fading, the blaze that had gone up so quickly began to ebb as you stopped feeling anything at all. The tapping of shoes echoed through the parking garage as you lay on the cement.

“No,” that all too familiar voice said, “Y/N is down, she’s been hit. We need an ambulance now,” Spencer called into the radio, he was out of breath as he looked down at you.

He studied your appearance, clocking the entry wounds on your side and moving his fingers in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. An odd, choked noise escaped your throat as the pressure on your side stoked the fire.

Spencer’s fingers trembled even as he maintained pressure on your side, “I know, I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” He took a deep breath, “here, turn- turn your head,” he instructed gently, using his free hand to coax your face to the side. You choked and came to the horrifying realization that he was trying to stop you from aspirating on your own blood. “Get it all out, baby,” he cajoled as blood spurted from your mouth, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

That would have to be enough. It wasn’t enough for you to hope anymore. You had spent so long with the Anger and Resentment from your Pandora’s Box that you completely failed to notice how Hope had slipped through the cracks, lost in a sea of emotions.

“Do you hear that? That’s the ambulance,” he told you, an unspoken plea in his voice.

But you couldn’t hear the sirens, pretty soon, you couldn’t hear anything at all.

The EMTs had all kinds of things to say, none of them were even remotely comforting. The bullets had entered through the thin opening of your Kevlar, a sort of Achilles heel where you couldn’t be protected. He should have double-checked, he should have paused to adjust the straps before running to the other parking garage.

He watched the doctors shock you in the emergency room, looking on in horror as your heart stopped beating. “Are you her husband?” One of the nurses had asked.

Spencer’s mouth had gone completely dry, “I’m- almost,” he answered, earning a sympathetic look from the nurse as she proceeded to ask him questions about next of kin and extraordinary measures. One of the bullets had pierced your lungs, causing catastrophic bleeding.

The nurse guided him to a surgical waiting room, but no one came out to him with updates, leaving him to sit. Someone brought his go-bag by, letting him change into clothes that weren’t blood-soaked.

He sat in a pile of limbs on the hospital’s couch, picking at the crusted blood that he hadn’t quite managed to wash off, and he wondered if he could ask one of the nurses for a surgical scrub brush, wondering if that would get the last flecks of blood from the ridges of his fingernails.

“Spencer,” JJ called out, rushing through the hallway, Will trailing close behind her.

Her arm was wrapped with gauze, probably stitched up before someone told her what had happened to her little sister. “Hey,” Spencer said, standing up as they approached, wiping his clammy hands on his slacks.

JJ held her hands out, “What have you heard? Anything?”

“It’s gonna be a while,” he said, repeating the only words that he had been told. They had taken you to the OR an hour ago, and all they had to do was wait it out.

The clinical white walls of the hospital were enough to make Spencer stir crazy, when Will offered to get him a cup of coffee, he was almost aggressive in his rejection. The sunlight reflected off the drywall as your surgery continued to test his patience.

Eventually, your mother called JJ back, and your sister walked away in order to explain the situation under the guise of privacy, leaving Spencer alone. “Dr. Reid?” Someone said, maintaining the reverent tones of the hospital that were beginning to make him want to pull his hair out.

“Yes,” he said, standing up in front of the nurse.

The nurse gave him a gentle smile, and he braced himself for the worst. “Ms. Jareau is out of surgery,” she informed him.

You had been in there for nearly six hours. “She…” he faltered, “Can I see her?” He asked, looking past the nurse as if he could see all the way into your recovery room from where he stood.

Nodding, the nurse continued to smile at him, “I can take you to her now if you’d like. She’s still under sedation,” she advised, gesturing for Spencer to follow her through the winding hallways of the hospital.

“Is she going to be okay?” He asked, checking to make sure he had his phone in his pocket so he could text JJ if he needed to.

The nurse’s smile tightened, “We won’t be able to know if she’s sustained any neurological damage until she wakes up.”

He frowned slightly, bracing himself for an answer that he wouldn’t like, “Could she hear me if I talk to her?” He asked, stopping in his tracks as the nurse stopped outside of a room – your room.

“It’s unlikely,” the nurse answered.

That made sense to him, there weren’t any studies that could prove that people could hear external stimuli while comatose. At least, there wasn’t enough for the medical community to reach a consensus. “Thank you,” Spencer said, nodding at the nurse as she turned away, letting him know that the doctor would be by to talk to him soon.

Your skin was pallid, a sickly sheen covering your skin as tubes and wires worked together to monitor you and keep your body going. Spencer set your patient bag in the corner of the room before dragging a chair over to your bedside, cringing at the sound the chair made against the linoleum before taking a seat next to you.

The steady beeping of your heart monitor quickly became the only thing preventing him from falling apart entirely. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, keeping his voice down so that no one else would hear him. “I keep going over it in my head and I don’t know how I didn’t realize you were missing sooner,” he spoke to your silent body, chest rising and falling with even breaths. “I’m so sorry,” he echoed, “You should’ve… you should’ve been my priority. Before Grace. Before Lynch. Before any of it.”

He inhaled shakily, glancing over at your vital monitor, taking comfort in the consistency of the numbers, “I should’ve put you first and now I- I can’t take it back,” he said, eyes burning with emotion. “I know things between the two of us have been kind of weird lately… ever since the pawn shop, I mean. I just,” he paused for a moment, giving himself grace, “I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know if she meant it and if she did, what does that mean? When you didn’t bring it up after the wedding I didn’t either because I just didn’t know how to talk to you about it.”

Somewhere along the way, the two of you had gotten lost. In the midst of not talking about the pawn shop, you had stopped talking altogether. “Now, all of a sudden, none of it even matters. All that matters is that I need you to wake up because I need to have more time with you,” he sniffled, the first hot tears rolling down his cheeks. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” he whispered.

“Please don’t leave me,” he begged, thinking of all of those nights the two of you had stayed up talking about the future. Your dream wedding. Your children’s names. He needed it. More of it. More of you.

Mindful of you, he laid his arms on the armrest of your hospital bed, lowering his head and watching the consistent rise and fall of your chest, listening to the whistling of your nostrils as he waited for the doctor to come.

The doctor seemed confident that you would wake up, it was just a question of when. He sent JJ, who had gone home to change into fresh clothing, an update once the doctor left.

Every once in a while, your nose would twitch or your finger would tap on the hospital bedding, and he would allow himself to get his hopes up. It never lasted long, once the fluke ended, he went back to thinking about the situation realistically. You were still having blood transfused, there was a tube in your chest depositing fluids into a bag at your bedside, and even if you did wake up, there was a long road to recovery with an injury like this.

He was terrified that you’d wake up alone and in excruciating pain, so he refused to move, having any paperwork brought directly to him in your room. Nearly every fifteen minutes, he smoothed out the blanket that rested on top of you, careful when putting his hands near your body, even though you couldn’t tell whether or not your blanket was wrinkled. Spencer thought of it as tucking you in, keeping you safe, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was too little too late.

You didn’t make it to the beach as often as you’d like. Spencer hated the beach, and you weren’t interested in swimming in the ocean so much as you wanted to go and people-watch. Families on vacation. Marriage proposals.

The first time you had ever gone to the ocean, you were three years old. JJ and Roslyn hadn’t been in years, but it was all new to you. JJ wanted to bring you to the water, and Roslyn hadn’t even wanted to go on the trip. The water hadn’t scared you then, the endless abyss of blue had seemed more inviting than anything you had ever seen before.

Now, you lay on the sand, all of it cold beneath your skin, the rest of the beach seemingly abandoned. Try as you might, you couldn’t move anything. You wanted to lift your arm to brush hair out of your face. You wanted to sit up. You wanted to go home.

You couldn’t even see the water from where you lay, you opened your mouth, hoping to call for help, but were surprised when the only thing that came out of your mouth was a dark, black sludge. It spurted from your mouth as it ran down your cheeks, staining the white sand of the beach beneath you. You were drowning on dry land, and there was nothing you could do.

Nothing but open your eyes.

The ominous white sky of the beach turned into white walls, as you fluttered your eyes open, the ocean made way for you, parting so that you could return to yourself. Laid in a hospital bed, trying to remember how to breathe, and meeting Spencer’s stare.

“Hi love,” he whispered, gently placing one hand on top of yours, drawing circles on the back of your hand with the pad of his thumb, careful not to knock your pulse oximeter off.

Your brows pinched together as you looked over at him, he looked tired, waiting for you to say something. Your chest felt tight as you looked at him, hundreds of thoughts bubbling to the surface, but only one bubble popped, “I had a nightmare.”

Spencer nodded slowly, messy curls falling over his forehead, “It’s okay, angel. You’re awake now. It can’t hurt you.”

It can’t hurt you. It can’t hurt you. It can’t hurt you.

You watched as Spencer reached over and pushed the call button on your bed. Each moment you spent awake became increasingly painful, signified by the slow rise of your heart rate, the pain only exacerbated when your breathing quickened. Alarm grew, “Shh, hey,” Spencer consoled you, reaching his hand out and smoothing your hair back, looking to the door and hoping someone would come in and help you.

They did, pushing pain medications through your IV and watching your heart rate stabilize before giving you something to help you calm down. Spencer probably knew what they all were, making mental notes to keep track of everything as he kept his hand in yours. Your pain level dwindled from a nine to a six, leveling out in the middle ground.

You settled back into the pillows, cringing as a nurse moved your bed so that you were sitting up slightly, nodding softly at the things that she told you about rest. She checked your vitals, before leaving the two of you alone, silence swirling around the two of you as you constructed a bubble to keep yourselves warm.

“I should’ve found you sooner,” he whispered, looking over at you, a distressed look in his eyes.

Moving at a turtle’s pace, you shook your head, “You saved my life.”

It’s okay. I’ve got you, he had told you in the parking garage, and he did. He still had you, even now. If they had let him, Spencer might’ve waited for you outside the operating room, just to be in the vicinity of you.

“Don’t go anywhere,” you murmured, eyes opening and closing slowly. Your eyelids felt sticky like there was still tape residue on them from your operation, but you didn’t dare move. You didn’t dare agitate any wound on your body. “Is JJ okay?” You asked, your voice tight. Checking in on your sister took all of your strength.

Spencer kept his hand in yours, moving his free hand to wipe at tears that had spilled over your lower lashline. “She’s fine, just a graze,” he reassured you, “I’ll call her when you go back to sleep.”

You swallowed thickly, wondering if you were allowed to have any water, “I missed you,” you breathed, fighting to keep your eyes open. “I wanna talk to you,” you sniffled.

“You should sleep, my sweet girl,” he answered, not wanting you to get into a hefty conversation in your condition. “We have all the time in the world to talk when you wake up.”

Except you didn’t. You had thought there was time for you to be angry, but then you had been shot. As much as you hated the idea of being someone who had a near-death experience and suddenly let bygones be bygones, alienating those close to you seemed exhausting. You took a deep breath, thankful for the nasal cannula on your face, “I’ve been so distant,” you admitted.

Spencer hesitated, not sure if you needed to get into this while so vulnerable, “I don’t know if she meant it,” he breathed.

“I don’t need to know,” you told him, surprising yourself as much as him with your admission. “JJ is… She’s one of the most important people in my life, but so are you. Maybe even more so.”

He frowned, “You can’t possibly mean that.”

You closed your eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, “JJ’s my sister, we share the same family, but I chose you, Spence. I will continue to do so,” you told him, deciding against adding until the day that I die. Watching him as he looked at you with tear-filled eyes, “Oh,” you sighed, “please don’t cry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Waving off your concern, he wiped at his eyes before taking one of your hands in both of his, “I love you so much, but I don’t want you to forget your anger.”

“Huh?” You hummed groggily.

“You’ve been mad for months,” he whispered, the strokes of his thumb on the back of your hand putting you to sleep. “It doesn’t need to fade away in the blink of an eye.”

You let your eyes slip shut once again, “I’ll still give you a hard time.”

He laughed slightly at that, “Good.”

“Spence?” You breathed.

“Yeah, baby?”

Humming, you settled back into the bed, “I don’t think I’ll be able to make our tea date tonight.”

When you woke up again, a familiar blonde was sitting at the foot of your bed, hunched in a plastic hospital chair while Spencer remained at your bedside, hands still intertwined, but sweaty now. “Jennifer,” he said, getting the attention of your sister.

She jumped up from the chair and sat on the edge of your bed, in your periphery, you saw Spencer retreat, ambling into the hallway to talk to Emily. Letting him go, you turned your attention to your sister, “Hey, Jayg,” you greeted, words coming easier now than they did before, the swelling of your throat had gone down.

Her finely chiseled eyebrows pinched together on her face, “I thought you were right behind me,” she admitted miserably, looking at your torso.

“It’s alright now, though,” you tried to reassure her. You had lost half of your blood volume, much of it on the parking garage floor, but you were here now, that had to mean something.

She shook her head in abject self-disappointment, “I should have protected you,” she insisted, scrunching up her nose as she fought back tears.

You were too tired to fight emotions, water falling from your tear ducts as the two of you tried to mend what had previously been torn apart. “You don’t need to protect me,” you insisted. The decision to take the hit had been entirely your own, driven by a need to protect her.

“I always have though,” she reminded you, “When Roz died, dad left, and mom checked out, I took care of you.”

When you were a child, you thought that having your pre-teen sister do everything for you was the way things worked. It didn’t last long, things unraveled from there, but you always had JJ. “I’m all grown up now,” you reminded her. You didn’t need her protection in your early thirties in the same way you needed them as a child.

JJ took a shaky breath, cupping your cheek with her hand affectionately, the way a mother would to their child, “You’re always going to be my little sister.”

You looked at her, seven years your senior, and you sighed, “Do you know why I did it?” You asked her, studying the sad look in her eyes.

She smoothed your hair back, grabbed a cup of water from your bedside, and brought the straw to your lips, “Why, Ducky?”

The childhood nickname chimed in your ears, one of the only things that you retained from your eldest sister. You smiled at her, “Your boys.” The answer came easily to you, “You have Will and your tiny people, and I just thought… I couldn’t let you leave them.”

“But I almost lost you,” she countered, it wasn’t aggressive, it was almost like she was trying to make you see the value in your own life. The people in your life didn’t make you valuable, you had value as an individual.

Shrugging, you looked at her sympathetically, “Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’, “You’re stuck with me.”

She gave you a sisterly, knowing look, “Your heart stopped. Twice.”

You concurred, “Yeah, because you’re just that stuck with me.” You insisted, watching as Spencer answered a phone call in the hallway. “Did you call them?” You asked her, giving her a quick glance as you craned your neck to keep an eye on your boyfriend.

“Mom’s on a flight in tomorrow morning, but dad hasn’t responded to my voicemail,” she informed you, she didn’t look surprised, and you didn’t feel it.

Where your father was concerned, some things were better left unsaid, but you wouldn’t necessarily mind if he never responded to your sister’s calls. There was no reason to drag him and his new wife from their cushy life in Florida. Spencer reentered the room as JJ’s phone started ringing – Will – and the two of them traded off, amicably splitting time with you.

Greeting him with a content smile on your face, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your hairline, “I have to go,” he told you reluctantly.

You tried not to let any disappointment show on your face, “Why? What’s wrong?” You asked, studying his face for any sign of what his phone call had been about.

“That was Brookfield on the phone,” Spencer said, checking all of the monitors that surrounded you.

The grim look on his face made sense to you. Moving his mother into Brookfield had been the right choice for everyone, but her condition was never going to get better. Last time he had gone to visit, Diana hadn’t even recognized him, and you spent the rest of the day holding him, letting him know it was alright. “You have to go,” you echoed his earlier sentiment, nodding reassuringly.

He hesitated to leave you, sitting on the edge of your bed that had been previously occupied by your sister, “But you- you’re…”

You shook your head in dismissal, “Sometimes everything happens all at once, but you have to go.” If Brookfield was telling him to get down there, then he needed to go.

The next several hours passed slowly, Emily gave you an update on the case – the reader’s digest version, avoiding any gnarly details in an attempt to protect you. Will brought you and JJ dinner, eating the meal with them and your nephews, you were grateful to not have to eat the hospital cafeteria food. Slowly, the day came to an end, you sent JJ home when visiting hours ended, letting her know that you didn’t need to be protected while you were in a hospital.

You fell asleep not long after one of your nurses lowered the volume on your vital monitor, the dark peace of the hospital lulling you into a sense of safety. There hadn’t been word from Spencer, and you worried about him and his mother.

A tapping sound dragged you from what was thankfully a dreamless sleep, you recognized the sound of the footsteps, those shoes made a similar sound on the hardwood floor of your apartment, “You’re noisy when you wear your fancy shoes,” you mumbled drowsily, opening your tired eyes and tilting your head in the direction of the sound.

“Hey,” Spencer whispered, “Go back to sleep,” he told you gently, slowly making his way around your hospital bed and to the fold-out chair next to your bed.

You hummed, following him with your eyes as they adjusted in the dark, “No, you woke me up. Now you have to talk to me,” you told him, reaching over to switch on a lamp, cringing at the way the light burned your eyes.

Unprompted, he inspected your vital monitor before reaching out to adjust your nasal cannula, “Where’s JJ?” He asked, cupping your cheek affectionately before taking his seat.

Reaching out for your cup of water, you smiled to yourself when Spencer moved it closer to you, “I made her go home. Our mom will be here in the morning, and she’ll need all the rest she can get.” There was also the fact that Michael had been freaked out by seeing you in a hospital, so he needed some extra love from his parents tonight. “Wait,” you said, “How did you get in here? Visiting hours are over.”

“I might have told a small lie about you needing security,” he admitted sheepishly, but beneath it, he was smug. You didn’t fault him on it, you probably wanted him here just as much as he wanted to be here, if not more.

Smiling in the dim lamplight, you inclined your head toward him, “Did you misrepresent the bureau?”

He rolled his eyes, “I’d do it again if it meant I get to spend the night with you.” Helping you put your water cup back on your tray, Spencer took your hand in his, “How are you doing?”

You were exhausted, not in the sense that you wanted to sleep, although that probably couldn’t hurt, but in the sense that your entire body ached. There was a pinch in your side that wouldn’t ease up, and you didn’t feel comfortable with asking for more pain medication. Part of you was afraid that in the process of being shot, you developed a fear of drowning. You almost died today. Huge strides had been made in an attempt to repair your relationship with Spencer and with your sister. None of these thoughts escaped your lips, you just looked at him sympathetically, “How’s your mom?”

All he gave you was a tight smile, squeezing your hand tightly, “She’s ah… she’s alright,” he told you, your chest tightening at the emotion in his voice. “They’re calling it an awakening,” he continued, sounding unsure of himself.

“Terminal lucidity,” you breathed, a term you had only read about briefly when Diana was first diagnosed. The two of you had made many cross-country calls, trading information while Spencer stayed with her in Las Vegas.

He nodded, “Yeah… they don’t know how long it…”

How long she had left. How long she would remain lucid. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he answered quickly, too quickly for your liking.

You wiggled your fingers in his hand, getting his attention, “I want you to go back tomorrow,” you ordered him. It wasn’t something you were willing to budge on, insisting that he go back to Brookfield tomorrow to spend more time with his mother.

“She asked about you,” he admitted, leaning back in the chair, keeping your hands intertwined, “She wondered why we never got married. I told her it was never the right time. Do you know what she said to that?”

Watching intently as he shared the story with you, you shook your head, “What did she say?”

He chuckled lightly, “She said that might’ve been the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard me say.”

You smiled as he recounted the story for you, mimicking the hand gestures that you were sure his mother had used. “Obviously she’s never seen your Dirty Harry impression,” you reminded him, trying not to giggle at the memory.

“The right time will never come if we keep waiting around for it,” he told you, reciting the words of wisdom that his mother had imparted upon him.

Your breathing hitched in the dark of the night, “Spence?”

He nodded, “Yeah, baby?”

“Are you going to ask me to marry you?” You asked him hesitantly, wondering if that was what he was getting at.

Spencer shook his head, “Not tonight, angel.” He looked around the hospital room, cards and balloons and flowers had made their way in through the afternoon and evening. Penelope had even brought your apple blossoms from your desk. His flower language seemed so inconsequential now. “Go to sleep,” he whispered, “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Will you tell me a story?” You whispered, settling yourself back into the flat hospital pillows, resigning yourself to the end of the marriage conversation.

He hummed, dimming the lamplight, “Which one?” There were a few stories that he had memorized specifically for you. When work or life or nightmares got to be too much, he would recall them for you.

“Can we do Portrait of a Lady again?” You raised your eyebrows, smiling impishly.

He rolled his eyes sardonically, “Your love for Henry James should be studied in a lab.”

You waved him off, “Okay, and? It’s story time.”

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[eveninggstar]

victory lap ⊹ ࣪ ˖

lando norris x rival!Mercedes!reader

26.08.24

୨ৎLando proposes a bet that if he gets pole and wins from pole in Zandvoort then he gets to not use a condom next time you and him have sex.

୨ৎ back one page ୨ৎ back two pages

smut

unprotected p in v sex, kinda bratty reader, lando smacks readers ass twice, sex on the floor, lando is controlling but in a good way, probs more

ngl this is prob the best smut ive ever written so far lol kinda like this one bc i love lando two wins!!! Also this is pretty long i dont know how many words

The tension between you and Lando had been building up for years. The two of you were rivals on the track, always pushing each other to the limit, but beneath that fierce competition lay something neither of you could ignore—an undeniable sexual tension that everyone seemed to notice. The paddock was rife with rumours, and even your respective teams had exchanged knowing glances whenever the two of you were around each other.

It all came to a head one balmy summer evening at Zandvoort. The Dutch Grand Prix was notorious for its challenging circuit and passionate fans, and both of you were ready to put on a show.

You were lounging in your driver room, going over your strategy for the weekend when Lando sauntered in, a cocky grin plastered on his face. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his McLaren race suit unzipped just enough to give a glimpse of his undershirt. He was clearly up to something.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice dripping with that signature mix of charm and mischief. “How confident are you feeling about this weekend?”

You looked up from your notes, meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Confident enough to wipe that smug look off your face, Norris. Why do you ask?”

Lando chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “Well, I was thinking... How about we make things a little more interesting this weekend?”

Your curiosity was piqued. “Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind?”

He leaned in close, his arms draped around your shoulder and his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Let’s make a bet. If I get pole position and win from pole, then the next time we have sex i don't wear a condom." He stayed silent for a few seconds, then leaning his face closer to your ear so his nose flattened, "Let me finish inside of you, baby."

A shiver ran down your spine at his bold proposition. You knew Lando liked to push boundaries, but this was a whole new level. Still, you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, especially not from him.

“And what do I get if you don’t?” you asked, your voice steady despite the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

“If I don’t win from pole, you get to call the shots next time,” Lando replied, his eyes darkening with the unspoken promises laced in his words.

You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider it, even though you already knew your answer. “Alright, Norris. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Saturday came around, and the atmosphere at Zandvoort was electric. The roar of the crowd, the smell of burning rubber, and the thrill of competition all combined to create an intoxicating environment. Qualifying was intense, with both you and Lando pushing your cars to the absolute limit.

“Lando Norris takes pole position!” the announcer’s voice boomed across the circuit.

You clenched your fists, a mix of frustration and anticipation bubbling within you. Lando had done it—step one of the bet was complete. But there was still the race to come, and you were determined to give him a run for his money.

Race day dawned bright and clear, the sun shining down on the packed grandstands. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you strapped into your Mercedes, your focus narrowing down to the task at hand. The lights went out, and the race began with a flurry of motion.

Lando held his position at the front, but you were right on his tail, refusing to give him an inch. Lap after lap, you pressed him, looking for any opportunity to overtake, but he defended fiercely, his car perfectly placed at every turn. The tension between you both was palpable, each of you pushing the other to the brink.

As the race neared its conclusion, you realized that Lando was going to pull it off. He had driven impeccably, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t find a way past him. At this point you were nowhere near him. He had a 20 second lead and had lapped over half the grid.

Your heart sank as the reality of the situation set in. Lando had won the bet. As you pulled into the pit lane, you saw him celebrating with his team, his face lit up with triumph. But when he caught your eye, his smile turned into something more—something darker, filled with desire.

Later that evening, after all the interviews and celebrations, you found yourself in Lando’s motorhome. The air between you crackled with anticipation as he closed the door behind him, shutting out the world.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed winning a race this much.”

You swallowed hard, your body already responding to the heat in his gaze. “You got lucky, Norris.”

He smirked, stepping closer until you were backed up against the wall. “I think we both know it wasn’t just luck, Y/N. Now, are you ready to pay up?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed his body against yours, his hands sliding up your sides. You could feel his heart pounding in time with your own, the intensity between you both reaching a fever pitch.

“You won fair and square,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Lando’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It was fierce, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been simmering between you for so long. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Lando didn't waste anytime before he urged you backwards towards the sofa. Your mouths slotted together and his hands groped and explored your body, going from your chest to your thighs. His hands manoeuvred the remains of your race suit to the floor, only leaving you in your fireproofs. With the reduced barrier, he could easily press against you causing you to let out many gasps and a few tugs to his hair.

Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Lan, hurry up.”

He paused, eyes scattering over your features. His face was no longer the happy winner everyone outside saw. He was now drunk with a lust filled haze. He lifted himself up off of you slightly, bringing a hand to your face and caressing it with the utmost care. His breath felt warm against your face, causing your eyes to flutter shut. The calmness you were experiencing was cut short by the strong grip Lando had on your face, squeezing your cheeks and puckering your lips.

"You're the one needing to be faster." He practically growled, looking deep into your eyes. "Remind me who came first." He paused, awaiting your answer. "Who won the bet?" His voice sent shivers down your spine.

"You," you mumbled, then began to smile as his hand drifted to your neck. He returned the smile and slowly moved his face to the underside on your jaw. He kissed it sweetly, then tightened his grip.

"Louder, baby." He commanded, his words dark but mixed with the feather light kisses sent your head into another dimension.

"You!" You spoke up, earning a nip to your neck. He then came back to your face to then deepen the kiss you had earlier.

He moved your lower body so he could fit more comfortably between your legs. Your hands desperately gripped at his damp hair, needing to hold anything to ground yourself.

You felt the hand around your neck slowly trail down the length of your body before settling at your groin. Your legs attempted to close shut, although his waist was preventing you from doing that. He began to work at your clothed clit, his thumb easily circling over the smooth fabric.

"Uh-" your voice cut off as he pressed on the dampening fabric harder.

"There you go, you're speeding up. Getting wet so quickly," He spoke condescendingly as he nuzzled his nose in your cheek. "Why cant you be like this on track?" He began to mouth at your neck, causing you to let out a breathy moan. As much as you hated Lando's cockiness, god was it hot.

“Shush.” You moaned, an audible show of your composure.

You could barely speak, Lando's thumb never faltering on your soaking clit. His body was overwhelming you, and you started to squirm. However, that same thumb stopped giving pleasure. Before you could protest, he was hastily ripping your fireproofs off. This left you bare and flushed below him. Your chest heaving up and down as his eyes scanned over our body.

He leaned up to nip at your ear, surely leaving a mark this time, as you expelled a breath of pleasure as his fingers worked their way into your slit.

Your words were lost on you, wanting to ask when he was going to get to the real reason of your bet. But in all honestly, you didn't care if he would carry on pleasuring you. However, you did want his fingers to enter you, to leave you wanting more of a stretch for days after.

His fingers left your aching cunt, leaving it to pulsate rhythmically. You reached out to hold his hand, an iron bruising grip you're sure of it. His race suit clad crotch bumped against your bare one, giving a shock of unexpected pleasure.

"Lan!" you practically yelled, your squeal bouncing off of the surrounding walls.

He shushed you, then ordered you to not touch yourself. He slowly slinked up off of the sofa, eyes solely focused of your slightly twitching body. The rest of his race suit joined yours on the floor, in addition to his fireproofs.

His cock sprung free, the tip beat red and dripping at the sight of you. Lando stood proud for what felt like forever. His left thumb was stroking his lip as he shook his head in the opposite direction. That's when he uttered-

"Get on the floor."

You submissive sex haze briefly broke, thinking you heard him wrong.

"The floor?" You pushed your body up, looking at him like he just asked you to get on the floor like an animal. Oh wait-

"I won the bet, baby." He smirked, eyes still raking over your nude body. "Floor, there's not enough space on the sofa for us."

With a sigh and a reluctant nod, you melted your way off of the sofa. You knew the position he wanted you in, he rarely fucked you when not in it. You laid on the floor for a few seconds, collecting yourself. Lando saw you laying there, not having you be a pillow princess he ordered you to-

"Flip around, ass up. I know!" You rolled your eyes, then did it. What you didn't expect was a harsh smack to your ass. You let out a mixture of a moan and a sound on pain.

"Enough of the bratty attitude," He smacked your ass lighter this time then gripping the plump, reddening flesh.

Finally, you thought, the head of his cock began to notch at your entrance. His fingers had intertwined with the nodded strands of your hair and he pulled up as his dick pushed into your cunt in a swift motion.

You both let out a groan of pleasure. Lando held himself there, letting you and himself adjust to the jaw dropping pleasure. This was the first time the pair of you were having sex without a condom, and god did it already feel a million times better. The pair of you had to focus to not cum straight away.

No words were needed between the four walls of you sex filled haven, as Lando thrusted into you. His palms splayed on your hips controlled your movements as his relentlessly bullied his cock further and further into you. You hands struggled to hold onto something, eventually finding solace in Lando's fireproofs.

His name was chanted like a prayer from you, in return you got delicious sounding moans and groans from behind you. You were sure his face didn't look all that different to yours in the moment. Pleasure filled, and only focused on the other.

His repetitive ruts and the bruising grip on your hips rendered you speechless. You wanted to say keep going, feels so good. But that was the problem, since the pleasure was that unbelievable you couldn't say. The loud sounds of sex echoed as your skin slapped in a fast tempo, each smack more pleasureful than the last.

Lando leaned closer to you, chest flat of you back. At every thrust you could feel the tense of his abs and the perspiration drip onto your equally sweaty skin. He began to mouth at your neck, settling for small thrusts whilst he was buried at the hilt. One on his hands slithered away from your hips and found solace on your breast.

His hot breath spread across your neck and down your spine as you shivered. His moans had turned to grunts and pants.

"Like it when you can feel me this good?" He grinned into your hair, leaving small kisses in his wake. "Like it when your this full?"

You wanted to nod, only giving a weak, stuttered head movement. The remaining hand on your hip drifted to your swollen clit. He helped ease you to completion.

"Aren't you glad I got pole." He teased you. "That I won. You wouldn't feel this good if I didn't."

You whimpered at his words, too turned on to be annoyed that he won and you didn't. But yeah, you were happy he won. He doesn't have to know that though.

You wanted to tease him, give him payback to what you were feeling, what you always felt with him, however none of that would be happening. He knew you like he knew the tracks the pair of you frequented, and knew that you were actual putty in his hands this very moment.

He picked up his pace, resulting you to let out loud moans and sexual noises of the like. The speed of his thrusts felt as if his dick was going to come out, luckily it didn't and you got the full pleasure.

His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.

"Come on, you can cum for me. I know you can-"

His hand came up as fast as his reflexes allowed, as you came. He slowly reduced the pleasure he was giving to your clit and eventually reached his own high. Your neck vibrated at the animalistic groan he let out into it.

Needless to say, the pair of you would be having more bets like this.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

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𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

I’m a fierce believer and defender of Smooth Brain Astarion (affectionate).

I love that, if left to his own devices, he ends up dead in a ditch. I love that this pasty menace of an elf is a walking disaster. I love that his brain produces one coherent thought per day, only to have it backfire on him later on. I love that his first choice in freedom is to unapologetically be the worst version of himself. Because it makes sense. 

That’s what abuse and trauma do to your brain—they fuck with it. 

And in Astarion’s defence, the man didn’t have to use his brain for nearly 200 years—it’s probably the very thing that kept him as alive as he can be; to survive 200 years of pure shit. 

And what use is his brain when his days and nights are dictated by someone else for as long as he can remember? When he has no say in what clothes he wears. When he doesn’t get to choose what or when to eat. When his body and mind aren’t his own, distorted by torture and hunger and self-loathing, forced to obey his vampiric master. Why use his brain when his survival depends exclusively on his abuser’s whims? 

Astarion could’ve come up with the most brilliant plan possible to escape Cazador or save a mark from their doom, but he never stood a chance of succeeding—which doesn’t mean that he didn’t get punished for trying (or even thinking about it) anyway.

Existing under Cazador was a game he couldn’t win, so why bother playing? 

And it’s only by chance that Astarion’s autonomy is returned to him literally overnight. It’s only natural that he’s overwhelmed by his newfound freedom. How is he expected to make sound decisions when he can’t even recall a time when he could do and say as he pleased? 

Of course Astarion is a walking disaster when he finds himself on that beach after the Nautiloid crash—and he’s fully aware of that! That’s why it’s so crucial for him to get on the player’s/other companion’s good side.

He’s self-aware enough to be so insecure about himself that he would rather trust a stranger’s capabilities than his own. 

Being a catastrophe of a person is part of Astarion’s character journey. Not only does he have to reclaim his personhood, he has to learn how to depend on his own brain again and I think that's such a painfully beautiful, important message Baldur’s Gate 3 sends. 

Because healing isn’t pretty. Nor is it easy.

You’re not alright the moment you’re free of whatever horrors you had to live through—and that’s ok! There’s time and room for you to adjust. 

And the moment Astarion feels more or less safe within his new environment, when he’s fed and treated like a person worthy of respect and consideration, his insights, skills and perception are crucial assets to the group.

Astarion knows his art and literature, and although his little remarks are unhinged at times, he's genuinely witty. Even his objections are, considering the circumstances, absolutely legitimate.

Personally, I love seeing Smooth Brain Astarion become more and more secure in his judgement the more Tav/other companions trust and support him.

Astarion is smart, his brain’s just been stewed for nearly 200 years.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

LUNCH

(rafe cameron blurb)

pairing: waitress!reader x rafe cameron

content: smut, 18+ minors do not interact!

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

You usually liked your job. Being on your feet all day sucked, and some of the members here were assholes, but they were rich assholes and you never left without your purse overflowing with tips.

It only took a few weeks of waitressing at the Island Club’s restaurant to learn what kinds of things had you clocking out with pockets full of twenties and fifties. You weren’t even from North Carolina originally, but you adopted a sweet, southern drawl to match your fake smile. When you were back-of-house waiting on food for your tables, you’d drop the act, fucking around with the cooks and swearing like a sailor, immediately codeswitching to an angelic southern belle when you were back on the floor.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” the old men would say when you dropped off their burgers. 

“You’re welcome, hun,” you’d say to their face, followed by “get fucked, creep,” once your back was turned.

Somehow, the younger guys were even worse. At least the older men had some subtlety, but the twenty-something, trustfunded Kook boys that would come in had absolutely no tact, and they tipped like shit.

Today, none of your work friends were scheduled with you, your new manager had laid into you about your dress being too short for a professional environment, and to top it off, you were working a double. You were actually considering quitting when a herd of local boys came barrelling into the restaurant, fresh off of making fools of themselves on the golf course - all swagger and no skill. You groaned when they sat themselves in your section.

You had absolutely no patience left in you. Instead of your usual chipper greeting and the list of today’s specials, you arrived at their table snapping, “you’re supposed to wait to be seated.”

The guy closest to you looked up under the shadow of his Titlest hat, a smug glint in his eyes as he said, “y'know, you’d be prettier if you smiled. You’d make a lot more money too.” His buddies erupted in laughter, as if he’d just brought the house down with his wit.

You were so fucking done, not even caring if you lost your job.

“Eat me,” you bit back at him. A casual flick of your middle finger in his face as you spun and sauntered away. He watched your hips swing as you left.

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Your dress was bunched up around your waist and apron thrown on the club’s bathroom floor. He kneeled behind you as your nails dug into the marble countertop. Fingertips digging into your ass cheeks, he shook his head back and forth rapidly, dragging his tongue all over your pussy. His pornographic slurps made you whimper helplessly, so incredibly frustrated and turned on. He turned his hat around backwards so he could get deeper.

His big hand came down hard on the side of your thigh with a loud thwack. There would be a red handprint at the hem of your dress when you returned from your 15-minute break. If your boss wasn’t pissed at you before, you were in for it now. But you were too fucked out to care, forgetting all about your bad shift. You let him devour you, your whole body shuddering with every precise flick of his tongue against your clit.

He nibbled at the skin of your inner thighs as he hooked his fingers into you skillfully, drunk on the sound of all the pretty profanities that flowed from your lips.

You came so hard he had to hold you up against the bathroom sink, your knees shaking as you struggled to pull your panties back up. He stood behind you, wiping his mouth sloppily with the back of his hand. He caught your eyes in the mirror, smiling arrogantly at your bright red cheeks and smudged makeup.

“Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.” 

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Your legs wobbled as you walked back to the table with only his drink on your tray. His friends were already getting up to leave, complaining about how long their food was taking. You'd forgotten all about their orders. He took the cold glass from you with a wink, throwing it back before following his friends to the door.

“You gonna pay for that?” You scoffed.

“Put it on Cameron!” He called back.

You rolled your eyes.

Maybe you’d keep this job a little longer.

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝒾𝑒𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊

fandom: my hero academia

relationship: tenya iida x reader

summary: you left your jacket in iida’s room.

contains: mutual pining, unresolved romantic tension, fluff, opposites attract, thrifted clothes, like two lines of dialogue

a/n: @thecutestgrotto divider credit goes to

Study sessions hadn’t always been a thing between you and Iida, not until after moving into the dorms. You just lived too far apart to meet up every week like you did now, every Friday to be exact.

Iida had offered to tutor you earlier in the school year, but you always turned him down, wanting to at least try and figure things out on your own. But after you began to live in the same building, you finally accepted his offer and worked out a schedule for the two of you to meet up in the afternoon and go over any material either of you had trouble with.

Eventually, those study sessions began to evolve into hang outs with studying sprinkled in, switching between his room and yours every week. Despite you two having very different tastes in room decor, it look little time for you to grow comfortable in each other’s environments. You quickly learned his organization system and he gradually learned to just leave your clutter be… mostly.

This week’s study meeting was held in Iida’s dorm room, and when you had first walked through the door, you were sporting your iconic letterman jacket which you had gotten from a thrift shop not too long ago. It had become routine for you and your mom to stop by the thrift store when you would spend her days off work together.

Anyway, it wasn’t until about an hour after you had left to start turning in for the night that Iida realized you had left your jacket behind, in a small bundle on the floor near the foot of his bed. He was surprised that it took him this long to notice, considering he had actually watched you walk- or more rush out the door after you realized how late it had gotten. You had taken it off in the middle of studying since the fabric retained heat and you were getting a little warmer than you would have preferred, so he supposed that you must have been so eager to go shower and get to sleep at a somewhat decent hour that you simply forgot.

Iida’s initial idea to stop by your dorm room to give it back to you, but it was already pretty late and he knew that you tended to lock your door at night. Though he supposed he could simply text you, but you were probably already asleep, or at least drifting off, so he didn’t want to disturb you. It had been a long week and you needed the rest.

So he decided that he would simply return it to you tomorrow morning when he saw you again. And it definitely wasn’t because over the past few weeks, the more time that Tenya spent with you, the more it felt as though your study sessions ended too early and he just wanted to hold onto the piece of you for as long as he could. Of course not.

And that’s why he was lying on his back in the dark, holding the piece of clothing to his chest while staring up and the ceiling with nothing but the low hum of the air conditioner and muffled outside noises to fill the silence.

If he were being honest, Iida loved this jacket. Because despite it being previously owned, it was so uniquely yours. He could still remember the day you returned to the dorms with a skip in your step as you showed off your new duds, talking about how lucky you were to find it right at the front of the shop and have it fit you just right. Coincidentally, it even had the first letter of your surname on the front. There were a lot of things that Tenya had grown to appreciate thanks to you.

Like your piercings. While Tenya previously found them impractical and even a bit unprofessional, he eventually grew to like how they looked on you, especially after you had invited him to go with you to get your most recent one.

And the rings you wore every day, two on your left and one on your right. Honestly, he kind of just liked your hands. Iida had briefly held your hand a couple times before, to help you stand up or when one of you was leading the other somewhere. He wished he could do that more.

Turning over on his side, Iida closed his eyes and lightly tightened his hold on your jacket as his heart drummed in his ears.

No. Don’t do it. Don’t do it, don’t you dare do it.

But he did. Tenya brought the jacket closer to his face and inhaled slowly. Yep, there it was; your natural scent with hints of your shampoo around the back of the collar. It was nice, comforting. Sometimes when he went to bed after your study sessions, he could find faint traces of your smell on his pillow or covers of you had been resting there while working.

Tenya wished he could have more than this. More of you, and for longer. But if this was all he could have, then he could be content with that.

The following morning, Iida folded up your jacket before going to return it to you. While part of him felt a little disappointed at first about having to give it back to you, that feeling was overpowered by the smile on your face when he did. You slipped your jacket on and tucked your hands into the pockets, thanking Iida.

“Don’t worry, it’s no trouble at all.” he replied, hoping that the blush in his face wasn’t too obvious. It really did look perfect on you.

As you went your separate ways, you gently rubbed your arms and took a deep breath in, your face flushing a subtle pink as you picked up faint traces of Tenya’s scent. Looking back over your shoulder in his direction, you chuckled softly as you stared at him as he engaged in conversation with some of your other classmates, blissfully unaware of that fact that-

“You totally left it in his room on purpose, didn’t you?” Mina whispered as she approached you, a Cheshire Cat grin spread across her face as she quirked an eyebrow at you. You said nothing, only rolling your eyes and lightly shoving her by the shoulder, earning a giggle. You knew that she could see the answer in your face.

Maybe you did, but he didn’t need to know that.

[cobrakaisb]

ciao bella

summary: you and theo spend a summer in italy, and some insecurities are revealed

word count: 849

author's note: the ending is lowkey shit, but i really liked the concept.

“theo,” you called, waiting for your boyfriend’s hum of acknowledgment before continuing. “can you rub some sunscreen on my back? i don’t want to burn.” he grumbled a response in that low tone of his, but you heard the sound of the lotion bottle, letting you know that he was fulfilling your request. 

you sighed in relief as theo rubbed the cool lotion on your back, arching ever so slightly as the feeling contrasted your sun kissed skin. he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, “relax love.” you sighed again, sinking further into the lounge chair set up on the balcony overlooking lake como. the stunning view, large villa, and established atmosphere reminded you just how rich your boyfriend was. 

when he approached you after the holiday break during fifth year with a letter and plane ticket to italy, you were shocked. it was a little unexpected, considering that your relationship was relatively new, so you found yourself hesitant to agree. it took pansy, millie, and daphne’s words of encouragement to convince you that this trip was a good idea. spending a month in italy didn’t scare you, in fact it was a bonus to get away from your own familial issues, and of course, some alone time with your boyfriend couldn’t hurt. it was the itinerary, rather, that made you question your sanity and willingness to go.

you were flying in from london to milan, via muggle transportation, where you were spending three days in a luxury hotel. from there you were going to his family’s villa at lake como, where you’d reside for two weeks, soaking up the sun and rich atmosphere. at the beginning of the third week, the two of you were taking a private car to spend the day in florence before heading to rome for another three days. the remainder of the trip would be spent between the amalfi coast and sorrento. 

the whole thing was a lot, and everything surrounding the trip exuded wealth. between the luxury hotels, first class tickets, private tours, designer outfits, and theo’s eagerness to take you on various shopping sprees, you felt like you were in over your head. granted, your family was well off, but not nearly as financially stable as theodore’s. maybe that’s why it was hard for you to truly relax; the worry about paying theo back was eating you away, slowly but surely. 

“you’re not relaxing,” he mumbled, drawing you from your racing thoughts to the serene environment. you huffed at his words. “i’m trying too,” you replied. theo could hear the worry in your voice; he could feel it emitting off you like the faint blue glow of a patronus. he set the bottle of lotion down, climbing off your back to sit in his own lounger. he turned to face you. “what are you so worried about, darling? tell me and i’ll fix it,” he begged. you knew his blue eyes were wide and pleading behind the dark frames of his sunglasses. 

“i don’t know how you’ll be able to fix it. it think i just need to figure it out on my own,” you explained softly, not wanting to hurt his feelings, or make him feel like you were withholding information from him. (even though you technically were.) by the end of your sentence, theo had moved from his chair back to yours, taking a hold of your hand. 

his olive skin was warm and a shade darker than usual, probably from all the sun you’d been getting these past couple of weeks. his thumb rubbed gently across the back of your hand, a habit that he developed as a way to soothe your nerves and anxiety. you sighed, a deep one at that, before opening your mouth to confess. before you could truly process what you were saying, filtering the things that you didn���t necessarily want him to know, you had told theo everything; how you felt like you’d never be able to pay him back, and how you wondered if splurging on you was really worth it.  

once you finished, you took another breath to calm yourself down. you risked a hesitant glance at theodore, who’s grip on your hand had tightened over the course of your rambling. it was silent between the two of you, and you were afraid to break it. finally, theo licked his lips before looking towards you. “fuck darling, don’t ever worry about that. you being here is all the payback i need,” he explained softly, his free hand tracing the bridge of your nose. 

“theo,” you trailed off, but he silenced you with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “you’re wearing my ring, yeah?” he asked, gesturing to the silver ring that hung on a chain around your neck. “always,” you answered. “exactly. what’s mine is yours, and it forever will be,” he replied, kissing the back of your hand as you felt your cheeks heat up. 

“now sit back and relax.” maybe spending a month with theo, the boy you loved, in italy wasn’t such a bad idea.

[jade-jini]

“You thought so, huh?”

Aespa Giselle x Reader

Prompt: If yo thought Uchinaga Aeri was just another nerd you could torment, you thought wrong. Part 2

Genre: Smut (enemies with benefits ig)

TW: mentions of bullying but like meh. They’re mean to each other but they into it lol. Also apparently this is almost 8k words and it’s mostly plot sorry-

Being the new girl in school was never easy for nobody, even for those who gave no fucks like Aeri. New schedules. New professors with new mannerisms to learn how to deal with. New classmates (even though Aeri considered that most people were the same cliche). New scenery (this wasn’t so bad tho, the campus had a lot of nice green areas).

But besides all that, new bullies. Fuck.

Since a young age due to her good grades, her lack of interest for much exaggerated human interaction, and her glasses (like it was her Fuckin fault she was a bit blind, old school bullies fr), she had been the target of multiple brain-dead good-for-nothings. Bored, mean, spoiled brats from rich families, or psychos from low life who lacked so much in so many aspects that they live their day by day with a deep frustration. What they all had in common is that they never learned no limits and respect for others, specially for people like Aeri: So calm, quiet, and permissive of this behavior towards them.

That was, of course, until she reached her teenage years.

As puberty hit both physically and mentally, Aeri learned very fast to stand up for herself and not take nobody’s bullshit. A mean comment? Either give a good comeback that would humiliate them or completely ignore them like they mean less than the floor she was walking on, depending on what she knew would sting the bully the most. She learned to quietly study these people. People who, in some occasions even, went from her bullies to her victims.

You see, on the rare occasion that one of her bullies decided they actually fuck with her attitude and willingness to stand up for herself, there were people who even decided to teach her a bit of physical fighting. There was this specific time that one of her “ex bullies” saw her responding back to some bitchass, and when she did, girlie was not having any of it. At the time Aeri was actually on a physical advantage, but without knowing how to fight, girlie was beating her ass fr. And she tried to fight back, every time! But she failed lol. So, tired of the second hand embarrassment, they taught her a lesson or two (like actually).

Back to present time now. A new environment can always look intimidating to anybody, but to Aeri? Nah she gave not enough fucks. And thankfully, not a lot of people even noticed a new student was around.

Oh but you? You noticed her. Right away. You were sitting with your little group of girlies at lunch as per usual, talking about literally any silly rich girl shit you could think of, when you decided that you was BORED. And what do rich kids do when they’re bored? They’re assholes. As you scan around the room to see if you could catch one of your frequent victims, your eyes fell on a new face. You were taken aback by Aeri, not only by the fact that you were sure 100% you didn’t know her. But also by the fact that your chest was beating so fast out of an excitement you had yet to understand. You scanned her face, her whole figure. Her hair perfectly brushed, her big glasses, her almost completely clean of makeup skin, her black sweater covering half of her hands as she grabbed her backpack’s strap.

What. A. Loser. You thought.

But what a peculiar one. She didn’t look nervous, she didn’t look like she felt out of place, she looked like a nerd if you followed the rules but.. she also didn’t? You licked your lips and turned around to interrupt the conversation your friends were having, knowing that it probably wasn’t even as half as important as what you had to say.

“Guys, who is that?” You said, your eyes stuck to the new girl.

“Who?” Wonyoung asked you, making an o with her mouth as she looked around the big cafeteria. You pointed at the Japanese girl in line, waiting to get her food “Hm? Who’s that?”

“That’s what I’m asking, Wonyoung” you told her, doing emphasis on her name.

“Ohhh” you heard the taller girl say, followed by her giggles, making your eyes roll at your.. slow friend, to say it in a kind way. “I don’t know, I’ve never seen her before.”

“She’s kinda cute though” Ryujin admitted as she nodded to herself.

“Yeah, and clearly a total loser” you huffed.

“We just got here, how come you already detected a new nerd??” Yujin asked her friend, shock showing in her face.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s like a superpower” you said, shrugging.

“Yeah guys, y/n has a 5th sense for things like that” Yujin said, softly pushing the mentioned girl’s shoulder.

“What do you mean, we all have 5 senses” Wonyoung told her girlfriend like it was the most obvious thing in the world (which it was girl hello what’s wrong with Yujin)

“Oh not me, I’m not that smart”

“Yeah we can tell, Yujin…” Ryu murmured under her breath “but yeah, it’s crazy how y/n can find losers so fast in a crowded room”

“So, what y/n has is like, the gaydar but for nerds maybe?” Wony asked looking at nothing, and you could see her trying hard to understand exactly.

“Nooo, the gaydar works when you’re also gay”

“But y/n IS gay”

“But she’s NOT a nerd or a loser, Wonyoung”

“But she’s gay.”

“Ok but that’s not the point Wonyoung!”

“I’m just trying to make sure I’m up to date with everybody’s information!” The girlie exclaimed, pouting and crossing her arms in front of her body. Everybody sighed, and her girlfriend simply side hugged her by the waist and kissed her cheek to make her relax, which of course worked, causing a cute little smile to spread on wony’s face.

“Ew” you frowned at the cheesy interaction, staring at the couple as they were clearly in their own little bubble now.

“Right?” Ryujin said, her face mirroring y/n’s frown “Us when though?”

“What?”

“What??”

“So, what do you think about the school so far, cousin?” Rei asked Aeri as they walked down the hallway. “I know it’s a bigger campus so I hope you’re adapting well so far”

“Don’t worry about me, rei. I’m ok” Aeri answered without looking at Rei, until she realized the young girl wasn’t following her anymore. She turned around confused to look at her cousin “Whatsup? Cmon I need to get to class baby”

“I know I haven’t mentioned it but, I think it’s important that you know there’s some rich kids around here, and they can be a bit… mean, specially with new people…” the girl commented, clearly looking uncomfortable having to share this information. Aeri could tell the girl has at least been a witness of whatever behavior these assholes had.

“We both know I have experience with that and that I know how to look after myself, I’ll be ok kid, don’t worry really” the older girl said in a calm voice, patting her younger cousin’s head in an attempt to comfort and reassure her that everything will be ok. “And remember, if anybody bothers you…”

“I know I know, you’ll break their bones” Rei giggled and held onto her cousin’s arm as they keep walking. Aeri wasn’t yet familiar with where all her classes were, so as a good cousin, Rei would walk her until she felt more familiar with the whole place. Thankfully she made it a few minutes earlier to class, also giving her cousin enough time to get to her own room.

As they got inside the classroom, Aeri noticed how her eyes would go to a specific row of seats, her body language letting her know that the girls sitting there would make her feel uneasy. She didn’t need to hear anything else to know why her cousin felt the need to warn her earlier.

And surprise! guess who was there? Yup. Your ass, sitting just two seats behind Aeri. It wasn’t her first time in that class, but you had missed the past two lessons so you didn’t know she was there too.

“Look who we have here…” you murmured to yourself, as you saw your new classmate entering the room with another girl that you recognized as some sophomore from a different department that you’d mess with from time to time. They seemed close, so you quickly wonder if something was going on there.

“What?” Wonyoung asked you, since your voice was too quiet for her to know what you had said.

“Nothing nothing” you dismiss her with your hand, making the girl shrug it off and go back to her nails.

“See you later, cousin. Text me when you’re done.” You heard the younger girl said to your classmate, who only nodded and patted the girl’s head before letting her go.

“Cousin, huh? Interesting” you whispered to yourself again.

“Schizophrenia…” Wonyoung whispered as well, in a little singing voice, looking at you with concern.

As class passes by, you somehow managed to switch seats with the classmate that was behind Aeri. Not like you gave him much option though, after threatening to burn his hair with your lighter.

You didn’t know why, if it was out of boredom or something else. You just couldn’t wait for the chance to mess with the new girl. I mean, it’s been what? At least more than one day since she got there right? And you STILL haven’t introduced yourself?! Unforgivable. You knew how to start, your childish ass was gonna tease her a bit, and if she said something or reacted in any way, you’ll let her know her fuckin place. You learned her name: Uchinaga Aeri. And you confirmed she didn’t only look like one but she was, in fact, a nerd. This after seeing the advanced books in her bag, the cornily organized notes she took, and how she had a more than perfect answer to any exercise the teacher would ask. It was almost disgusting how smart she was.

“Teacher’s pet…” you murmured not to subtly. This earned you a hard look from the professor (which you responded with a fake pout), and Aeri looking at you and rolling her eyes, now recalling what her cousin mentioned earlier. She just had a tiny hope she wouldn’t encounter no asshole in a class she actually enjoyed.

Knowing she somehow had acknowledged your presence made you excited in someway. Next step? … well you didn’t know, probably something basic like throwing pens at her. And so you did. For 5 minutes. The first two times she just looked at you, silently warning you. This was just too funny for you tho, what was she gonna do? So you continued. By the time the rainbow was outta whosever bag of pens that was, she turned around completely and looked at you.

“Do that one more time and I’ll make sure you deepthroat that entire bag of pens, ok?” The girl in front of you said, such a calm but firm tone that caught you so off guard at first, second, and third. The fact that Aeri was fearless about threatening you like that left not only you but the classmates that heard it (including Wonyoung) speechless. The latter gulped, she had never heard nobody talking back to her friend like that since they were in kindergarten. And the kid who did it ended up expelled from school. To this day nobody knows what happened to him-

“Alright ladies, let’s avoid trouble please, class is almost over cmon. Uchinaga, y/l/n, focus on the board.” The teacher said, trying to de-escalate the situation.

One silent cold stare before fixing her posture was everything Aeri gave you for the rest of the class.

“Hey! those were MY scented rainbow markets!” a guy said.

“The only ones with fruity smell here are you and your boyfriend, Mark. Shut the fuck up.”

“Hey, asshole. Give me my notebook back.” You heard a voice behind you say, as you turned around and saw Aeri, you scanned the empty hallway, wondering who tf she was talking to ‘cause it couldn’t be you, even though you knew damn right it was. You had taken her notebook from her bag as revenge for talking shit. You had planned on blackmailing her with it, however the fact that she straight up insulted you was the only thing catching your attention at the moment.

“Excuse me?” You started, throwing her notebook to the floor, you were ready to pick it up again and slap her with it tho “Who the fuck do you think you-“ and got interrupted by Aeri’s hands on your shoulders.

“No.” Aeri said, pushing you against the lockers a bit too hard, making you groan and causing your bag to fall off your shoulder “who the fuck do YOU think you are?” She asked, looking intensely into your eyes. That’s when you realize she was taller than you. There was barely any difference, but you felt so small now. Her closeness and stare making you shiver. Were you scared? Of a nerd?! No way. But what type of nerd was this tho?! Girlie was intimidating as fuck. “Don’t make me say it again, girl. Don’t fuck with me.”

A silence appeared filling the air, you were impatiently waiting for something to happen, worried about Aeri’s next move. Only thing she did was to pretend she was gonna hit your face with her fist, making you flick, which caused her to giggle “it’s like seeing a pathetic scared puppy. What a case” and just like that, she got her notebook from the floor and started to calmly put it inside her bag.

You didn’t know why you couldn’t move, but it felt like you were waiting for her to give you permission. Once you realized this, you slapped yourself mentally, ready to leave this stupid and surreal situation. That was until she grabbed you by the shirt and slammed you against the wall one more time, not even looking at you.

“You don’t move until I say so”

“What the fuck Uchinaga, let me-“

“You don’t move until I say so.” she repeated grabbing on to your shirt so tightly that the friction was burning your neck “got it?”

And you couldn’t do nothing but gulp and nod.

The following days were a rollercoaster for you. The new girl that you assumed too soon was going to be just another victim turned out to become some sort of rival? A rival who had advantages both physically and mentally. She had better comebacks. Better insults that would leave your mind blank. Fuck, she even hits harder. You see, Aeri had found a lot of fun and pleasure on catching you off guard by slapping your head, making you drop your books, or pushing you with her shoulder when she was walking by. Sometimes you’d tell her off, reciprocate her bitchy attitude. Sometimes you would just let it be. Your friends were shocked at first, but then just processed it as some rivalry, because Aeri became sort of popular around for her strong attitude. You started to experiment a bunch of new things with all this situation.

But the weirdest one was probably how much this turned you on.

Aeri was mean to you. Most of the time she wouldn’t even wait for you to provoke her, she’d just straight up feel like messing with you. She was meaner to you than you were to her, ‘cause now you’d barely start it. Now it was you responding to her shit. You were confused, lowkey scared sometimes. And horny. It didn’t help that she seemed to have a big love for tops that were tight on the chest zone, making her chest stand up. A lot. You would fantasize about her so much, even when she was hurting you, daydreaming about these mean encounters ending in something else.

Honestly, even Aeri was confused as to why she enjoyed messing with you. Maybe it was for some kind of general revenge? She was a nerd but she had the balls to stand up for herself, which others didn’t have. And you were just some asshole, so, deserved? She thought so.

So on another casual day, you were walking to meet your friends at the parking lot, when Aeri once again caught you off guard, pushing you inside a bathroom (conveniently empty for the plot).

“Hey loser” she said, as she harshly pushed you against the wall like she’d always do.

“You know, it’s quite weird how you” you pointed at her “are the one calling me that. I never even got the chance to call you that to begin with.”

“That’s because you decided to be lame and call me just ‘Uchinaga’. So basic”

“Don’t you also call me by my last name sometimes?” You reminded her, as to which she just rolled her eyes. You smiled, one point to you.

“Whatever. I’ll make this short, you and your assholes friends better stop bothering my cousin. ” You looked at her confused. You remembered her cousin Rei, but you haven’t seen her (or probably yes but didn’t pay attention) in a while, all your attention had been on Aeri. You didn’t even bother your other victims much these days.

“What do you mean? I haven’t even seen Rei in forever.” You clarified, not wanting to be accused of shit you didn’t even do.

“That jock friend of yours keeps teasing her during her cheerleading practices. Make it stop or else.” Now you understood. Yujin. Fuck.

“I think you’re confused, Yujin has a girlfriend. And that’s Wonyoung.” You told her, mentioning your well known best friend, who was the captain of the cheerleaders (what a cliche huh? Jock x cheerleader)

“Like that would stop her, please.” Aeri said with a tone full of sarcasm.

You knew that even though Yujin was technically with Wonyoung, girlie was a playgirl and while she wouldn’t (or hasn’t so far) cheat on your friend, you wouldn’t be surprised if she was going around flirting with girls just for the ego boost. And ‘cause she doesn’t know how to think with the head on her shoulders rather than the one in her pants. However, she was a grownup, what the heck was Aeri expecting you to do?

“Well even if it didn’t, I’m not the boss of her, what do you want from me?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Make sure she keeps it in her pants, or I’ll cut *it* off.” She said, remarking the word. “Plus don’t play with me, your friends or fans or whatever they are, they listen to you. And you know it.”

“Well, even if they did, why would I do you that solid? What’s in it for me?” You teased.

“How about we start with me not breaking your nose, hm?” She said in a hypocrite sweet tone.

“Aw man why you gotta be so aggressive?” You pouted. But on the inside that made you a bit scared, knowing she probably wouldn’t contain herself from doing so if she really wanted to.

“Because you’re completely annoying!” She almost yelled “I’m not giving you no options here, bitch. You either do it or I swear I’ll make you choke on your friend’s-“

In her rambling, Aeri failed to notice how you were completely deaf and basically drooling looking at her chest. Her cleavage showing, her breasts looked like they were about to escape from her blouse. You were wondering how did they let her in with that. For a short moment, you even fantasized about being physically similar to Yujin, so maybe you could get this girl pregnant and maybe you could get a taste of her milk as you sucked on her tits.

“Hey. Hey do you hear me?” Aeri snapped her fingers in front of your face. You blinked a couple times until your vision went back to normal “what the heck, y/n, don’t be a perv??” You felt her hand slapping your forehead.

“What?! What did I do??” You asked her, swearing there was no way she noticed you staring even tho you almost drooled ON her.

“Oh my god, is that what you want in exchange of calming your stupid friend down?” Aeri accused, but she couldn’t deny to herself that seeing your blank face as you lost yourself in your daydreaming about her caused things on her. A little smile was in the corner of her lips, and you didn’t know if you should be scared or excited.

“You wish, I could get way better without having to move a finger, Uchinaga. Don’t flatter yourself too much.” You said, trying to act as nonchalant as possible after the girl literally caught you looking at her tits lmao however, Aeri had an idea. An idea that would make you (or maybe not, eventually) regret being so obvious.

“Hm, so, you’re not interested in any of this?” The Japanese girl slowly asked whispering in such a sensual low voice, pulling the neckline of the shirt a bit to expose more of her skin. Your eyes betrayed you, your brain did so too, as you quietly redirected your focus to her chest. “You wouldn’t like to know how they look when they’re completely out? How they feel? Or… taste?”

“Fuck…” you sighed. The view, the sudden high temperature in the room, the closeness of your bodies, it was messing with your brain so much that you had to close your legs tight, and that’s when you both noticed Aeri’s leg in between yours. The accidental friction made you slightly moan and you swore you were done dying of embarrassment. The girl in front of you found this reaction very interesting, and decided to move her leg, stimulating your sensitive zones. More soft moans involuntarily escaped your mouth.

“Does that feel good?” She whispered in your ear.

“Y-yes… fuck..” you said with a string of voice as you closed your eyes. This was so funny for Aeri, this gave her so many new ideas that she’d put into practice. Not now though, but later.

“you’re such a horny loser” Aeri laughed, creating some distance between you two and fixing her clothes “I’ll let you go before you force yourself on me or something, weirdo. Control your friend. Or is ‘Bye bye teeth’ and ‘Bye bye balls’ for her.” And just like that she left you there alone. Horny and alone.

Practicing how easily she could turn you on became a new habit for Aeri. Besides the other aggressive ones she already had. So apart from bothering you, she would now take you to the bathroom whenever she caught you off guard, tease the living hell outta you, and leave like nothing happened. The worst part is you knew you weren’t gonna get anything, yet you let her take you with her for literal nothing.

It frustrated you. So fucking much. How easy she could just do whatever she wanted, and how the rush that lasted only a few seconds felt worth it. The girl would tease you to such extremes, just to leave you like that. Angry, and horny. You needed to do something about it, and touching yourself thinking about her wasn’t enough anymore. It felt humiliating that she got you doing that. So of course, the only solution you found was going back to hooking up with random people from campus. From other rich kids with no brain, to even nerds who swore several times they hated you. You needed to do something. To prove something to yourself and scratch that need.

You were popular for your looks. Any and everybody would accept going out with you even when they knew it was just to be used as a one night stand. You knew this, and so you used that to your advantage. You didn’t want nothing with nobody, you just needed two things: the ego boost, and to relief the frustration Aeri caused. The thing was, however, that she kept popping up on your mind while you were having sex with other people. And that you made you more and more frustrated every time. It was like a need you couldn’t get rid of no matter how rough you fucked any other girl or guy. You knew you didn’t want nothing to do with her, you could barely stand her. But maybe it was the anger of how mean she was to you, the impotence for how little you could do about it. You wondered if this is how your victims felt about you. Minus the sexual tension of course… hopefully.

As you were walking one of your soon to be hookups to her class, sweet talking to her ear, you felt the familiar sensation of somebody slapping your head.

“The fuck?” You exclaimed, rubbing your head as you turn around and saw Aeri giggle as she put some stuff in her locker after her last class. You looked at her and sighed. You were particularly frustrated and angry that day; just earlier she caught you on an empty corner and to make it short, did the knee thing to you, until she had you biting your lip and closing your eyes… just for her to grab the cold water she had and spill it all over your head, leaving you shivering and soaking wet in more than one way. You told her off and even slammed her against the lockers before she left though, so she went to class with a bit of a headache. You had to lie to Wonyoung and tell her you got caught in the rain.

“But it wasn’t raining today.” The taller girl said, confused.

“Yes it was, but it was at the other side of the building. This campus is so big sometimes rain doesn’t reach every part of it, wony, you know this“ok gaslighter.

“Ohhh, yeah you’re right” she said, even though she didn’t know shit. But she’d always agree with her bestie. Nevertheless, she pulled a small clean towel she always had in her locker for cheerleading practice, and quietly helped you dry your hair, which you thanked with a soft smile.

Back to present time, Aeri was in front of you, playing dumb as she fixed her glasses on her locker mirror, and you looked at her like you wanted to kill her. Your not-so-soon to be hookup stopped playing uninterested and was now worried about how you were finding the girl in front of you a better subject of your attention than her.

“Um, y/n?” Chaeryeong called, fixing her glasses as well and holding her books close to her chest “we’re gonna be late to class”

“Just go without me, I’ll meet you there ok?” You told the brown hair girl nonchalantly, not even giving her a look back.

“A-are you sure? You know this teacher is-“

“Get lost, chaery. Please” you told her, doing your best not to sound so passive aggressive. The girl obeyed, and quickly disappeared from your side. She said bye but, you didn’t notice and didn’t care. You started walking to Aeri.

“Uchinaga, hey.” You called her when you noticed she was getting ready to leave too. “What the fuck was that for, huh?”

Aeri turned around and with her arms in front of her chest she simply answered “I just felt like it, why is it that so strange to you?”

What you didn’t know it’s that Aeri was having her own internal issues. Her own battles about how she felt about you. She couldn’t stand you, she knew that. And similar to previous victims, she enjoyed annoying you. But it was never as often and as heavy as she did it with you. And the part that worried her Foreal was, that she never, ever, had felt jealousy.

Oh yeah. Aeri was jealous.

Jealous of every boy and girl who looked at you. Of every person who got to be with you. It started with her wondering “what the fuck do they see in her?!” Until she saw it too. The shape of your eyes. The trace of your lips. How soft your skin felt. She couldn’t accept the desire you caused on her. She knew she wasn’t gonna be able to have you in that way, not when you both hated each other, basically. Plus, she wasn’t yet ready to admit that what she felt was attraction. She was still in denial. So the only thing she could do, was bully you. It was the only way of touching you, of being close to you, of having any control over you. Aeri needed to relief the frustration you caused on her as well. But her way of doing it was to do it on you. Like this. Enjoying the fear she saw in your eyes, the trembling lip when she had you under her, and the bruises in your skin when you guys fought. And every time she saw you with another one of your hookups, it was yet another trigger.

“Why don’t you start feeling like leaving me alone already? I’m tired of your shit dude.” You told her on a serious tone. This just made the girl in front of you huffed (‘cause not a chance bro), but it also caught the attention of another classmate of yours.

“Why don’t you just leave her alone, y/n?” You heard Mark said, and you sighed and rolled your eyes on an exaggerated manner.

“Man, who the fuck asked for your opinion, Mark?” You told him, hoping he’d just shut up. You knew you couldn’t bother HIM much, you basically grew up with this guy since he was the son of one of your father’s business partners, but oh my god one day he was gonna get it.

“Y-you’re always bothering Aeri, what has she ever done to you?” He asked, as if he was unaware of the well known rivalry you two girls had. And the advantage she always had.

“Fuck off, Mark” you said, annoyed by the guy’s presence, walking slowly closer to him. He quickly backed off, scared you’d hurt him. Noticing this, Aeri got in between you two. Not because she was trying to defend the guy, but because she wanted your attention and he was stealing the moment.

“You’re such a bully, y/n” she said, looking at you with some sort of fake disappointment. “Leave him alone”

“Thank you Aeri” the young guy said, as he fixed his glasses.

“No but fr fuck off, Mark” the Japanese girl told him, and his smile disappeared in fear as he grabbed his bag and left you two alone. As you saw him walk away, you quickly felt a hand pulling you by your uniform’s tie. Aeri was walking you by it like a dog. Man, you knew you should’ve listened to Wonyoung when she told you to get those fake detachable ones instead.

“Bathroom. Now.”

Aeri didn’t need to force you into the bathroom anymore, you started to simply obey her from time to time whenever she told you to do something. She told you to sit down in class? You did. She told you to not move until she says so? You didn’t move a muscle. She told you to follow her? There you went with her. You’d do it with a bratty attitude sometimes! But you’d still do it, and she enjoyed this oh so much. There was something about knowing the power she had on you that made her feel crazy. Crazy over you.

“What did you even bring me here for this time?” You asked her annoyed. You were really not having it today.

Your question caught her off guard. She actually didn’t have a reason, she just didn’t wanna see you with somebody else right now. She knew Chaeryeong would probably come back to get you, ‘cause even when she played hard to get, it was obvious how much she drooled for you. And if it wasn’t her, it was gonna be any other side hoe you had, or your friends, or anybody else. and that, that she wasn’t having today.

“Did you tell your friend to leave my cousin alone?” She confronted you, not even sure if this was still an issue that Rei had. You sighed heavily, closing your eyes.

“Jesus, Aeri, I told you. I’m not the boss of her. I can’t tell Yujin what to do. If she wants to fuck your cousin, she will.” You spat, losing your patience more and more. Aeri slapped your head.

“Watch it. Don’t say those things about her.”she said, not happy about the idea of your friend even near Rei.

“I’m sure that kid is old enough to say yes or not about getting some dick, stop cockblocking everybody.” You told her, making her more upset. She really didn’t like the way you were expressing about Rei.

“I told you to watch it.” She slapped your head one more time and that was it for you. You grabbed her shirt tight and pushed her against the wall, making her groan.

“I’m so tired of your bullshit, Aeri.” you said in between teeth. Both venom and lust emanating through your words. It made Aeri shiver, you could hear her gulp. It was the first time you see her somehow scared of you. Quietly expectant of your next move. In any other occasion, it would’ve made you laugh seeing her like this, unable to move ‘cause of how hard and steady you were grabbing her. But you were so deeply frustrated and tired of her shit today. And seeing her like this, with her big eyes looking at you like that. Now you kinda understood why Aeri enjoyed annoying you so much, if this is how you looked when she did it to you.

“W-what the fuck, y/l/n” she said, her voice betraying her letting her stutter how she never has in years “let me go or else-“

“Or else what, Uchinaga? You’re gonna hit me again?” You dared her. Then, an idea popped up in your head. Without leaving much space between you two, you turned her around making her face the wall. Suddenly, the ring bell rang. “Oh, you know what that means. Class started. So nobody is coming here any time soon, dear classmate.” You giggled.

“I’m so serious right now, y/n. If you don’t let me go I’m gonna break you something”.

you hummed, untying your tie and holding her wrists together, tying them behind her back. The girl was softly struggling and cursing at you, but let out a long groan when you pulled her hair back.

“I’d like to see you try that now” you teased her with a sarcastic tone. As you forced both of you inside the biggest stall, you continued speaking “I’m so frustrated, so tired of you, Aeri. The only thing you do, is make my days miserable. You come here, you bully me, you hurt me” you said, pulling her hair again, making her let out another groan, to then close the door. “and yet… I can’t seem to be able to stay away from you, can I?”

“You being an overly horny fuck is not my fault, y/l/n.” The Japanese girl spat “maybe if you didn’t go around everybody here like a blunt, you’d learn to control that”

“If I go around like that so much, it’s ‘cause I’m trying to relief my stress and anger, so I don’t beat the shit outta you for making my life harder, you asshole.” You told her, grabbing her neck, and once again having her against the wall.

Aeri gasped at the feeling of your hand against her throat, both in fear and excitement “We both know that whatever you wanna do to me right now, it has nothing to do with beating me, you perv.” she said confidently. Aeri wasn’t stupid, she could see the desire in your eyes, behind all that rage. All that hate. She saw the reflection of her own soul. How you didn’t want her, but needed her just as bad as she needed you.

As you stared deeply into each other eyes, you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. Softly closing your eyes, you leaned in to capture her lips in yours.

Aeri was expecting that kiss of course, but yet she could feel the air abandoning her lungs in surprise, shock in her face as she felt your lips moving against hers. She wasn’t expecting it to feel like this. To feel this good. And you were praying it wouldn’t feel this good, ‘cause you knew how addicted you were going to be from now on.

As you didn’t feel her respond to the kiss, you backed off, but she didn’t give you the chance to even catch your breath as she leaned back and kissed you again. Deeper. Desperate. And more passionate this time.

Aeri could feel you moan in her mouth as she started to take control over the kiss, surprising for a girl who’s the one tied up. You rested your hands on the wall, on each side of her body as she started to leave kisses on your neck. The sounds you let escape and the vibrations of your throat motivating her to leave more and more bruises on your neck. “Lets see how much your hoes like to see this” she said. You weren’t much of letting anybody mark you up like this, but anything was and probably will be an exception if it was Aeri.

“Fuck, it’s so hot in here..” you murmured and started undoing the buttons of your shirt. Aeri explored your body with her eyes, cussing you for not letting her do it with her hands. She bit her lip, feeling her own body temperature raise.

“Are you gonna help me with mine too or what?” She ordered, and your hands quickly traveled to her buttons, opening her shirt but not removing it. Instead, you unclipped her bra as well, freeing her breasts. And oh my god they were nothing but perfect to your eyes. Your mouth opened, a moan escaped, you looked up to her, trying to read her expression. Aeri was biting her lip, containing a smile.

“How long have you been wanting this, fucking perv?” She teased, and you clicked your tongue.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want it too, you’re such a constant tease there’s no way you haven’t been fantasizing about this.”

“You’re crazy if you think I actually wan- Ahh.. fuck~” the feeling of your tongue against her nipple made her choke on her words. The warm sensation making her lightheaded. Aeri’s boobs were sensitive. Very sensitive. And the way you were sucking, licking, kissing them, like you’d die if you didn’t treat them right, she was melting right there and then.

“They’re so perfect…” you whispered in between kisses, lost on your own pleasure. From time to time you’d go down and leave kisses all over her stomach, quickly going back up to treat her chest until her nipples were red. The desperate moans Aeri was letting out were telling you she was ready for more. So you turned her around once again, and got your hands under her black skirt, the feeling of her bare skin against your hands making your palms itch on anticipation. You took the edge of her underwear, and slowly took it off, removing it completely and keeping it in your pocket.

You hiked her skirt up, enjoying the view of her bare ass. You couldn’t contain yourself, and spanked her. Hard. The sound of your hand against her skin resonated loud on the empty bathroom, but her gasp and cry were louder. You did it once again.

“That fucking hurt, you idiot…” she said, her voice now a tiny bit weaker ‘cause of everything you were doing to her. You gave her another slap, making her squeal.

“That’s what you get for hitting me all the time.” You told her, and continued to slap her ass.

The thing is, Aeri couldn’t deny that she was enjoying the pain mixed with pleasure of the rough contact. She liked it like that. If it was you, she loved it like that.

Once her skin was looking red you stopped, and contemplated the girl in front of you. You couldn’t believe you had her, your rival, your bully, like that right now. Her body so exposed, her hands tied up.

"Are you gonna fuck me or you're just gonna stare at me like a fucking idiot until all classes of the day are over?"

And yet, still in so much control of it all.

Noticing how you were almost drooling as you stared at her body with your mouth open, Aeri rushed you. Also because you guys were still in school so, you didn’t have all the time of the world. You got back to reality and shook your head.

"Why don't you stfu?" You asked her, looking at her eyes with anger wrapped in Lust.

"Why don't you fucking make me, asshole?" She replied, knowing the more she pushed, the more she probably was going to enjoy this.

“Oh my fucking God” you sighed, and pushed her own panties inside her mouth. You knew that if she could talk, she would be cussing you hard.

You knew she was right, you guys didn’t have much time left before class was over. So, you got on your knees and opened her legs, observing how wet her pretty pussy was. You needed to tease her, you couldn’t help it. The tip of your tongue started going everywhere but to where she needed you the most. You could feel her body twitching in anticipation, and you couldn’t help but giggle at this.

“What is it, Aeri?” You asked her from your position. She let her panties fall from her mouth to talk.

“What are you doing? I told you we don’t have much time. Or is it that you just don’t know how to use your mouth for nothing but to talk shit?” The girl said, trying to get on your nerves. And achieving it, your smile disappearing and turning into an upset expression.

“You know what? Fuck you. You don’t get my tongue today.” You told her, getting up. Her expression completely changed, almost to a scared one.

“What?! You can’t do this to me, not after teasing me like that.” She desperately said, almost laughing in disbelief.

“Ahhh, how does it feel bitch?” You told her, giggling at her reaction. You took her panties and put them inside her mouth once again before she could start arguing again. “Trust me, I know how to use my mouth on good things, unlike you who only use yours to give me headaches.” And like that, you went back to her knees, and started teasing her with your tongue again. This time though, it was her asshole.

This caught Aeri off guard, you could hear her gasp each time you licked her hole. This was new to her, and she didn’t know how to feel about the fact that she was enjoying it.

She gasped with every bite you were giving her cheeks, enjoying the sensation. Her gasps quickly turned into moans, her eyes rolling as you began to tongue-fuck her ass. Aeri had her face against the cold wall, hoping it would help with the high temperature on her now red face.

As you teased her hole, you also kneaded her ass. You’d leave spanks from time to time, listening to the Japanese girl gasp and whimper as you caught her off guard each time.

“Your ass is so sexy, Aeri. I love it” you said leaving yet another spank. The way you said her name wasn’t helping the girl, it turned her on more. It played with her mind, ‘cause why did her name sound a million times better when you were saying it now?

You decided to give her clit some attention too, but with your finger. The stimulation on both sides making Aeri’s head completely shot down as she fell prey of the pleasure you were giving her.

“Hhmgh.. y/n.. more…” you heard her say very muffled since she still had her mouth stuffed with her own panties. You almost couldn’t tell what was it that she said, but she was backing her ass against you more and more, letting you know her wish.

You decided to switch the game, turning her a bit so you could finally give some proper attention to her clit. Before this, you spat on your other hand’s finger, and put it inside Aeri’s asshole. The sudden intrusion, with now your tongue making circles and leaving short, quick repetitive licks on her clit, made the girl‘s moans hit two octaves higher. You were fucking her hard, fast. The movement of your hand almost matching the fast pace of your tongue.

“More.. more…” you heard the girl basically beg, encouraging you to go faster, rougher. And so you did. Fucking her ass and tasting her pussy so good that your wrist was starting to hurt but that wasn’t gonna stop you until you had her making a mess on your mouth, coming hard until her whole body was shaking. “Oh fuck.. y/n.. coming.. so close, please~” she moaned.

“Come for me, c’mon. Just for me.” You told her, and just like that, Aeri came undone. A loud, deep moan, feeling so good and intense that it had her sobbing. As she came down from her climax, you had to get up and hold her ‘cause her legs wanted to give up.

“You.. asshole…” she whispered in such a weak tone, her head resting against your chest as her eyes wanted to close. You couldn’t believe that even in this state, even after fucking her dumb, she was still capable of insulting you. But she looked so fragile, she sounded so tired. You couldn’t do nothing but to smile and help her fix her clothes. Of course you untie her first.

“C’mon, don’t fall asleep now. We have class” you told her, knowing damn right neither of you were going back to any classroom.

“Are you insane? I’m so tired I wanna pass out..” she said with a pout. This was such a weird and new side that you’ve never seen on her, that nobody has even seen on her. But it was probably ‘cause of how sleepy she was, so you said nothing yet. You decided to tease her when her brain was working again. You grabbed your and her things, and carefully help her out of the bathroom. You guys walked (her holding onto you for support) to your car, and you decided that the only place you could go now was your house. Aeri needed to rest, and you didn’t know where she lived, plus if you asked Rei, it would be too much drama, whether you lied or tell the truth (which you never would).

“Where are we going?” Aeri asked as she started to fall asleep on the passenger seat.

“Home, we’re going home” you told her.

“Hmm… dumbass.” She softly said as she passed out, her lips turning into a pout. You simply giggled and shook your head.

“You’re such a pain in the ass. Yet, I can’t believe how weak I am for you. And you’re a dumbass too, by the way” you spoke to her sleeping body.

You let Aeri rest on your bed for the rest of the afternoon. It was such a weird view; you almost never bring people to your own place, you just don’t like it. But you couldn’t believe you had your own rival napping there while hugging your favorite pillow, after having sex with her.

It was a nice view, though. And you thought to yourself that you wouldn’t mind having this one girl on your own bed every night.

If it was hard to stop thinking about Uchinaga Aeri before, now it was gonna be impossible.

[fantasyyluvr]

Hey, i read the “Bat-boys finding out your pregnant” and may i ask for more? It was sooo cute that i need more of it 😭💕

The Batboys fathers HCs

A/N: this request is long overdue that I’m sure the requester doesn’t even remember it, but I’ve arrived at last. I hope this is what they wanted. The Absolute Power run has restored my love for Nightwing and comics. ❣️

Dick Grayson is a fun dad. At first, Dick suffocated beneath the weight of fatherly duties. He wanted to be better than Bruce. Dick loved him, but he could admit that his boyhood wasn’t a salubrious environment for the young mind. No child should have to carry the weight of Bruce’s mission. Thus, Dick’s mission became ensuring yours and the baby’s lives were secure, safe, and joyous.

Pale beams of sunlight kissed your cheeks good morning. The aroma of maple syrup wafted throughout the house, tickling your nostrils as you carried yourself down the stair steps, footfall by footfall. There Dick stood at the stove, scooting the black spatula beneath a golden pancake and flipping it into the air, causing your baby to burst out into a fit of giggles before the pancake hit the skillet with a sizzle. He was proud of himself for making his baby laugh.

“Well, well, look at mama.” A grin crept across his lips as he spotted you creeping closer, supernovas bursting in his electric blue irises.” You were snoring in a pool of drool when I awoke, so I grabbed the baby and started breakfast.” Vibrant seas of pacifiers, rattles, and toy pianos adorned the house.

Dick attempted to rush the developmental process. Not out of callousness, but sheer excitement to have a child. He had already stocked the baby in dolls, trucks, pacifiers, fruit snacks, apple juice (watered down, of course). He even installed a nightlight that short circuited the house at first, but Bruce helped him fix it. Reading is good for the baby right? Dick is on it. He’s already ordered the best and most classic tales; Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, Alice in Wonderland, Dr. Seuss, Little Red Riding Hood.

Dick Grayson has read multiple novels on fatherhood, motherhood, child development, postpartum depression. He hates surprises, and babies are the breeding ground of surprises. He will pack the go-bag full of onesies, pacifiers, diapers, wipes, toys because he doesn’t want you to be in public and not have the materials.

“Give me a few days to install the new changing table. You’ll love it.” Crimson blush adorned his tanned cheeks, a proud grin dawning on his lips, showcasing his pearlescent teeth.” It broke when I weight checked it, thank god. Damian, albeit reluctantly, is coming out here tomorrow to translate the instructions.”

Jason Todd is the protective, paranoid father because he’d placed a bullet in the worst humanity had to offer, witnessed otherworldly horrors done to the little guys, the folks who lack billions of dollars to hole up on secluded islands and cabins. He can’t eradicate all the scum, can’t caulk the fractures villains seem to keep slipping through—and that terrifies him.

Jason never imagined a life worth living to be possible. He’d thought himself a sentient zombie, an unlucky boy yanked from the eternal peace of a cold, soundless grave and forced to enact vengeance on behalf of the common folk who lack the means to undertake the mission themselves. He never considered Red Hood to be a hero; merely a restless phantom with nothing else to bide his time until the sweet release of the afterlife deigned to shatter his manacles to the mortal world. That was until he’d fallen over the sun, offering endless devotion to his goddess, and you’d rewarded his offering with a daughter, a lovely girl. He’d abduct the moon and wrap it in a silken bow if only you’d give him permission.

“Catch, papa,” your daughter had called out, retrieving the little football and sprinting toward him, tiny feet carrying her over the damp and verdant grass of y’all’s backyard. Jason never brought the both of you to parks—an excess of people to watch, different personalities and behaviors; a myriad of possibilities for tragedy. Too much room for error in a vast, leafy expanse.

“You’ve gotta bring it to me first,” Jason called back, outstretching his muscular arms, awaiting her arrival. He was paranoid and distrustful of the world, not a killjoy. Y’all’s daughter’s bedroom was littered with vivid nail polishes, fluffy scarves, glittering tiaras, and Monster High dolls. Your daughter had always adored Frankie Stein and Frankenstein because they reminded her of Jason and herself, the dolls and humans both sharing pale white streaks of hair. He hadn’t known whether to laugh or weep upon hearing those words from her lips, innocent and completely unaware of the accuracies spanning far past hair color.

“Jason, I love you, but we are not cooping ourselves up in the house this summer.” The words were firm and unyielding—but lacking any true bite.

“ I’ve given you grace. I let a lot slide because I understand your background. But we’re just not doing it this summer. Its too hot to not go to waterparks and enjoy ourselves because of possibilities.” A damn good point rested upon your tongue, and he knew it.

“Fine.” He relented with a jocosely petulant huff.” But we take a gun with us.”

Tim Drake is an ambitious father. It’s been said before, but I don’t believe he’s as active as the fandom would believe. Though, his absence isn’t born of malice or indifference, but ambition, a thirst for a legacy. He wants to be a man his significant other and child can be proud of, a father worth bragging about. There’s also a large chamber seated within his mind that knows not how to be a father, for his parents were cold, choosing to throw dollars at his gripes and needs rather than be present.

One of his greatest fears is disappointing the both of you, like he was disappointed by his own parents, so disappointed he couldn’t even despise them. Tragically, the mission to avoid history’s repetition had placed him before a mirror, his parents gazing back at him, a smug smirk curled on their lips because they know that he’ll be on their end of the glass within a few decades.

Can he be blamed? Tim wants the absolute best for his family. The best grades, the best schools, the best scores, the best scholarships. He’s not naïve enough like Dick to believe hard work and persevere can lift a nobody anywhere. There are no bootstraps to be pulled taut. It’s an illusion, a sauce wealthy people spoon over their meals to disguise the taste of nepotism and privilege. Manipulations the rich regurgitate to excuse themselves from having to acknowledge the unfair, biased system they’ve upheld.

The door to his limousine slammed closed, his child seated beside but, but farther than ever. What could be said? Jerking forward, the limousine rolled into drive, coasting beneath autumn streaked clouds, as though her father had gifted her the sky from a florist. Bruce hadn’t prepared Tim for the teenaged terror years. He couldn’t help but wonder if he himself had been this capricious and fickle as a teen, or if he were merely that bad of a father.

“Do. . . do you want a Milkshake? From that one place by the house, like we used to when you were young.” Tim couldn’t help but raise a hopeful raven shaded brow. He could smell the stench of sweat, an anxious perspiration, cleaving to your school uniform. It must’ve been a test day.” I’ll clear the rest of my schedule for us. . . if you want, of course.” He extended an olive branch, granting her the choice to engage and accept, or set the course for the rest her teenage years.

Damian Wayne does not want children. He doesn’t know how far his taint would bleed, and all he can envision are the ways he could disgrace the mind of a child. His village was rotten and evil. Bad fruits bear worse seeds.

Damian’s devotion was love, the purest kind he knew, a primal desire to protect and cherish that of which he adored. You forged suns in his heart, set the butterflies in his belly aflutter. Beneath a weeping of sheet of violet sky, the both of you had sworn to love the other until Earth imploded—and when it did, he would find you in another universe.

He doesn’t hate children. In fact, he would be a decent babysitter for Dick and Jason, and whenever Tim deigned to grace the BatCave with his presence. But, Damian is staunch in his childfree attitude, and you respect it. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure you wanted kids. No, you and Damian battled crime, traveled the world and experienced culture, learned histories outside of the filth pumped into his mind by the Al Ghuls. Bruce was saddened by Damian’s decision against children, but he ultimately respected it—and him.

Damian knew he was poisoned and rotten and always would be, no matter what emblem was sewn over his breast. He was content with the life the both of you had, and knowing Dick, many more children are to come, so he’d never get lonely.” Beloved, what do you make of Italy? Not the tourist parts where the history is washed, but the ripe lands.”

Bruce Wayne is a weary father. He knew the birth of his youngest child was redemption, his last chance at preserving the Wayne name since Damian had sworn off children. But Bruce was aged, hardened, jaded, weary. He had scars to last a lifetime, some worn on his heart, though majority were worn on his skin.

The Wayne brownstone was eerily silent since Alfred’s death. Bruce’s son sat around the oaken table, coloring a picture of Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, and Alfred. Bruce’s heavy lids fell over exhausted, dim blue irises, his brain flitting back to the memories of Alfred, gathered at the stove and learning a recipe. I am. . . old, Master Bruce. My time on this earth is not infinite. You must learn more than the ways of fists, the words echoed in his mind. Reminding him that old age wasn’t even the murderer of Alfred Pennyworth.

He fetched an inhale before pulling himself off of the couch, and padding over toward his son at the dinner table.” What’s that? Oh, a pretty picture. A real artistic talent, like Damian.” Bruce was unsure of his fathering more often than not. He knew how it appeared to his son’s school counselors and the principal—old, washed up playboy Bruce Wayne saddled with another young son. That was far from the case, but the masses will believe anything when they’re given nothing.

Bruce fetched a pot and skillet from the creaking cabinets of the brownstone, far from the elegance and cleanliness of the manor. Alfred would’ve been mortified to see the mess, he almost chuckled, but withheld it. Lest his son raise a question, for the explanation would be too complicated and long-winded for his young mind.” So, what do you see for dinner tonight? What makes that belly growl like a lion? Mac and Cheese? Lasagna? Hamburger Helper?”

Bruce knew exactly what his son would choose. Asking was merely a courtesy. Bruce knew him, raised the boy from the minute he was weaned. He knew what his son would do before his son knew what he himself would do. The Batman wasn’t a slacker, wasn’t lazy.

[lostbo0]

Nothing I Had Planned… (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: After four months of blissful marriage, you fear that new realities may introduce challenges you had not anticipated or prepared for.

Genre: Spencer x Fem!Reader, Angst with comfort, happy ending

Content: Mentions of pregnancy, periods, relationship doubt, nerds in love.

Word Count: 1.8k

~~~

The confession you had made that evening was not one marked of a particular grandiosity, and yet it grew a welling in your heart so strong, you felt as though you could fall in love a thousand times over.

your afternoon seemed to slip from your fingers, watching time crawl between the cracks of the blinds, sunlight dragging across the wall of your freshly inhabited living room. Spencer had not long departed to pick up forgotten work materials, insisting on your relaxation for the evening. You mindlessly clicked the remote button, eyes glossed over the tv you had no idea what to do with. Admittedly, you had hopes to escape the confines of your empty home for a small while, yet when you saw the sparkling glow of matrimonial duty glinting in Spencer’s eyes, you rescinded your desire at once.

The TV screen flashed with cop and forensic shows, too familiar to enjoy as you lazed about your unworn couch. You abandoned the idea of TV all together, instead walking to the bathroom, deciding that a warm shower might occupy your time. You shuffled through cabinets, hunting for a spare bottle of shampoo, when, behind nicknacks and more often used supplies, a small case of period products flashed across your vision.

When was the last time you had used one of these?

Your period had never been regular. In fact, it had been far from the word, but you had never missed one completely. At first, you thought that you had simply been “glowing with marriage” as Penelope suggested, your body not finding the time to worry about menstruation. In hindsight, the notion seemed silly to you, but at the time, all you could think about was the fact that you had married the love of your life.

Maybe a change in environment, you had foolishly told yourself a month ago. It just now struck you how long it had been.

Your mind did not immediately resort to conception. In fact, your hypochondria suggested more inevitable death than anything else. Yet, as you sat in the bathroom, shower long discarded, you began to wonder. A baby? It didn’t even feel possible. Of course it had been possible, but you had not even considered it to be a likely reality.

The idea of children had danced upon your tongue, slipping in to conversations laced with playful sincerity, but you never thought it to be a near future. Nothing in the past 4 months had even felt real. You just loved and danced and laughed and sent sparks flying, no consideration of permanent consequence. You found yourself dragged by a ghost of yourself towards the door, simply sliding on shoes and going.

~~~

You jammed the keys into the ignition, stalling for just a moment, hoping for a sign — for your period to magically start “haha you weren’t pregnant, really got you there!” Or perhaps waiting for an angel to descend, delivering the message that you were in fact not with child. But the angel never came. Not yet.

Street lines blurred across the windshield, reminding you to slow. All you could hear was your breath. No radio, no revving, no sirens, not even the rain on your window, just the inhale exhale of your lungs, breathing a silent plea. You weren’t prepared for this, and it scared you. All your life you had spent preparing: seven, the talent show. Twelve, state testing. Sixteen, SATs. Twenty-two, FBI training. Never once did you sit down, read a book, talk to a friend, talk to your mom even! The sound of your breath was loud. Louder, you thought, until it became rhythmic. A rhythm of no count, no time, it was filled with gasps and choking cries that mixed with the patter of rain crawling down the windshield. The line between raindrops and tears began to blur as your own tears pooled in your eyes and ran down your cheeks in hot puddles. You felt foolish — an adult woman crying at the result of her own actions. Yet you didn’t feel like the adult woman that you were. All you could see was a scared teenage girl, faced with the fear of a lifetime in front of her. But you didn’t have a parents to disappoint, not a boyfriend or a teacher, just your poor loving husband that you were scared to death of hurting.

Spencer was the only person who made you believe that the world still had some good left in it. He was the most gentle and tender hearted human you had ever laid eyes upon, and the idea that you could even scare him in any way, sent your stomach twirling like a centrifuge. You knew he loved children, that was not a fact lost on you, but you were also aware of the horrors you both faced each and every day you stepped into the bullpen.

Your entire line of work was comprised of lunatics and monsters and horrors beyond normal comprehension, and you were also well aware of how much of a danger it posed. Spencer had been kidnapped, Penelope had been shot and stalked, and every day you were afraid that you could be next. It almost felt selfish and wrong to bring a poor sweet child into your tainted world. How could you do that to something so innocent?

~~~

You parked your car with recklessness reminiscent of chasing an unsub as you set your vehicle spanning multiple parking spots. You slammed the door shut harder than you had wished, catching a glimpse of your swollen, red, and sordid face. The tears felt sticky on your fingers as you quickly wiped them away.

The fluorescent lights dug into your skin as you walked to the back of the drug store. You knew in your heart that no one there had a care in the world about what you were doing, and yet you had never felt so exposed. Aisles blurred together as you dragged yourself to the shelf, hastily grabbing the most expensive test you could find, hoping the price would reflect upon its accuracy. You checked out and made your way to the car, rain still beating, pooling in the pavement. The car ride back felt just as long as the arrival, thoughts speeding across your vision as quick as the road signs. How would he react when he saw you? How would he react when he saw the results? Would he hug you? Would he cry? Would he slide a hand into yours only to pull the ring off with the words “I’m sorry, I’m not ready?” You felt guilty for even considering it. That was the man that loved you, and he made the promise to love you, no matter what, so faced with these facts, why were you so scared?

~~~

The bathroom tiles were soaked with tears and rain water as you waited tirelessly for the minutes to drag by. No matter how warm your thermostat was set that morning, you couldn’t help feeling cold. These next few moments would decide your future for the rest of your life. But it wasn’t the moments that decided your fate, but the two prominent lines that spoke millions of words all at once. After all the crying you had done, you found it shocking that no tears rolled down your cheeks. In fact, you didn’t make a single noise. You were certain that you hadn’t made a sound. You didn’t know how long you sat there on the bathroom floor staring into your hands. You didn’t know when Spencer would return, but you wanted terribly for it to be soon. No matter how afraid you were of telling him, you wanted nothing more than to feel the familiarity of his arms around your body, building the warmth in your soul that you so desperately desired.

~~~

You were on the couch when Spencer came home. Hearing the door open, you shot up from your seat and stood there in the middle of the room, waiting for him to walk inside.

“My love, I’m home!” He paused where he stood when he saw you, seeing easily through your tight-lipped smile. “are you ok?” He dropped his bags and rushed to you, large hands holding your shoulders with gentle firmness.

“Yeah…” Your voice was quiet, hoarse from crying.

“Baby,” he moved a hand up to your cheek, heart pounding in hopes that you were ok. “Your eyes are red and puffy…”

“I was crying.” You laughed softly at your admission.

“Why sweetheart,” he brushed a thumb across your cheek, feeling dried tears soaked into your reddening skin.

“Um, well…” you wiped your face with your hand. You could feel the tears building in the cracks of your eyes and the familiar clenching of your throat. Spencer peered down at you with those sickeningly brown eyes, prodding for an answer.

“I’m pregnant…” The words scratched out in a whisper, you could barely hear the words yourself, questioning if you even spoke them. He only looked at you, unease growing in your stomach as you fear the worst. “I took a test and I know that sometimes results can be inconclusive but, my period is weeks late and I just-“

“I love you so much-“ His warm arms pulled himself to you, breaths coming out in choked gasps, hot air on your neck as he grasped your body. For the first time all day, you felt safe. A sigh fell from your lips like a waterfall, the tension releasing from your body in one choked out breath. You could feel your arms crawling up his body like a magnet, against your own will and at the same time exactly what you wanted. Your fingers grabbed at his sweater, pulling at the fabric in earnest attempt to hold him forever.

“I was so scared-I, I love you-“

“I love you too. I love you so much.” Your tears came out in hot puddles, soaking the shoulder of Spencer’s shirt. It was silly to even think that it mattered. His body engulfed you, tearing at the seams that held your fear in place, ripping apart any hesitation.

“I’m-I’m sorry I didn’t plan anything special to tell you, I just, I didn’t want to wait…”

“No, Sweetheart, this is perfect.” He pulled away from you, holding your face in his large hands. “You’re perfect.”

You could have spent an eternity basking in the comfort of his arms. In fact, you weren’t sure if any more words were spoken.The truth was, you hadn’t prepared for this. At the time, you hadn’t even wished it. And yet, in that small, careful, tender moment, you realized that if everything you hadn’t planned for turned out just like this, you would throw caution to the wind, following the tides of your love instead.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Requests are open if you have any ideas!

[yzzart]

hii love!! i'm new to your work but i've fallen deeply in love with your writing and your way of writing Tom 😭😭 i absolutely love the actress!au stories so i thought about one myself: where tom and reader are already in a established, public relationship; and they attend a gala or some kind of event together, and maybe one of them had to host or talk in front of the guests and they keep mentioning and talking about each other. and the fans are going crazy after that interaction 💘 thank youuu

"A peculiar moment."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: at an event and being the host, Tom interviews the first person of the night, you.

word count: 1.452!

“You look so beautiful, Y/n!”

A mix of voices asking, clamoring for photos, autographs or at least a four-second attention exclaimed in your ears and of course, echoed throughout the environment. — Also, accompanied by several flashes, one stronger than the other, from cameras; it bothered you a little, but nothing too profound.

After all, besides being used to it, this had already become a routine for you.

Walking, carefully and holding a small part of your dress so you don't trip in your steps, to a large one that separated the fans from a part of the carpet, you are greeted by more screams, compliments and smiles. — Along with several photos of you, posters for "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes" and other films that featured you, and some notebooks looking for her autograph. — Doing your best, you tried, completely, to pay attention to everyone.

There came a time when you needed to draw on a fan's arm, because she warned you that she was going to get a tattoo; a completely surprising request for you. — There were a lot of people, so paying attention to all of them was a very difficult job, but you did your best to welcome and talk to them. — Also, thanking everyone for the support and so much love.

After a specific period of time, which was a little long, preparations for future brief interviews had already begun, along with the photo sessions; the cameras were already recording and capturing everything that passed in front of their lenses. — A good number of the interviewers were already organized, talking and interviewing some people and some were talking to the event employees.

The environment was magnificently exquisite and dazzling; flowers of different colors, but most of them reddish in pigmentation, possibly intended to match the red carpet and the charming decorations that were present. — Everything was impeccable. — And the lights, lighting matching the color palettes.

Continuing to walk along the carpet, and being careful with your steps in your dress, you greet the photographers, quickly answering questions about your well-being and requesting attention for their respective cameras. — While posing, smiling, in a gratifying way, you looked for a certain person who was scheduled to be present at the event.

Perhaps, it could be considered a little rude as your eyes were roaming, freely and lightly, across the large hallway as the flashes captured your every movement. — Well, just maybe. — But your chest was anxious, more than usual, during your silent and barely disguised search.

"Here, Y/n!" — An unknown voice passed through your ears, removing your thoughts from your attention and consideration, and the owner of the request waved holding his camera; trying to attract your focus and succeeding. — "That!" — His small smile of gratitude became visible.

Even though he directed a smile accompanied by a pose for the camera, fulfilling the photographer's request, your eyes remained on his objective, but in a discreet and not so flashy way. — In each flash, you moved your eyes to the side and observed person by person. — Until, instantly, your eye sockets collided with the image of a familiar person. — He turned around quickly, and finally his eyes met yours.

Holding a microphone, which had a marking saying "host", and standing next to the camera that was in front of him, Tom watched your photo session with a proud smile. — The recording, which was live, did not focus on his entire smile, just a part of it. — He wasn't just watching, he was admiring, contemplating you; he always did it and could never get tired of it.

Tom received an exclusive invitation, considered splendid by you, to host the event; a large and responsible role and mission, too. — It was a great emotion, at the same time you received it, your boyfriend immediately told you; and, of course, you were the first to know about it. — Therefore, one of his fundamentalist roles included interviewing the guests.

Blyth was nervous, that was obvious, but also confident; perhaps, due to the fact that you would be the first person he would interview that night.

Your genuine, radiant smile went through the photos and stood out among them, making them all magnificent, and already being planned to be posted. — And the photographers were more than satisfied. — Before leaving and heading towards the interview point, you moved your head towards some cameras and said goodbye to them.

The small point, which resembled a small stage, where the host's interviews began was not far from where you were; Just a few steps and you could walk without any problems or worries about your dress. — Something you were grateful for, mentally.

It was only when you were going up, on one of the steps of the small stage, that you needed a little help. — Your boyfriend offered his hand towards you, which you quickly accepted, and carefully directed you onto the platform. — And yet another camera focused on you, now, broadcasting everything live.

"Look who we have here." — Remembering the microphone in his hands, Tom brought it to her mouth, at an appropriate distance. — "Good night, y/n!" — He tilted his head, with an inviting smile paying attention to the sparkle in his eyes while directing the microphone towards you.

"Good night, Tom!" — You answered. — "How are you, darling?" —Imitating your gesture, your head is tilted, delicately awaiting his answer.

"Better now and you?" — Tom raised his eyebrows, uttering a answer that was perhaps bold but sincere; and there was no trace of concern, even in front of the cameras.

"I can say the same." — Your eyes roamed to a small point that cried out for your attention, the necklace he wore; the one where your initial was carved. — It was the third time Tom had worn it in public; an action that enchanted you. — "I can actually say the same."

"On a night as beautiful as this, did you come with someone?" — He decided to play, relax with you, acting as if your relationship wasn't public; you laughed, understanding what it was about.

"Oh, unfortunately not!" — Your ears heard a brief laugh from the people working behind the cameras. — "However, i met a guy, by pure coincidence, who has your name and looked like you, but i lost track of him." — Anyone would be impressed by how quickly you created that story, Tom thought it was funny. — "He's an incredible man, in fact, a special man to me."

"From your words, i can see that." — Your boyfriend didn't seem embarrassed at all, he was appreciating your words, even though they were short and also coming from a small joke; Tom had forgotten where he was, in fact. — "I know him?" — You turned your eyes upward, pretending to be thoughtful.

"I don't think so, but it should." — A corner of your lower lips were nibbled by your teeth. — "I feel like he's definitely a charming man in my life." — You shook your head, confirming your words, losing the meaning of the little joke. — "The only downside is that i lost track of him."

"I'm sure you'll find him soon, my dear." — Blyth assured with a beautiful smile on her beautiful face, which was probably accompanied by a reddish tone on her cheeks. — "You're perfect, my love." — In just a few seconds, the joke was put aside; Tom couldn't resist, much less you. — "Always is."

"Just like you, dear." — You approached of the oldest, subtly placing your hand on his arm and placing a kiss on his cheek; it was a little slow, but not so slow as to complain, and Tom would never dare make a complaint. — "See you soon?" — You referred to the end of the interviews.

"Of course, love." — He replied holding your hand; noticing the only ring on your finger, the one he gifted you. — "It looks like someone is going to be reunited with a certain companion." — Tom commented, looking briefly at the camera with one eyebrow raised and helping you get down from the small platform.

Tom admired and followed your steps with his eyes, contemplating your sweet smile when greeting people; If he had the chance, he would spend his entire time watching you. — And even forgetting that it was being recorded and broadcast to thousands of people.

Now, it seemed that there was a mark, so soft and delicate, of a kiss with lipstick present on his cheek, it was not very visible, only if it came very close to his face. — The camera managed to capture and notice the small mark, bringing it into focus.

And your fans brought immense focus to the point of commenting about it on twitter, causing an insane moment for them.

[prettieinpink]

Cultivating a Growth Mindset

A growth mindset is the belief that one's skills, qualities, and abilities can be nurtured and enhanced through hard work and learning. Adopting this mindset makes you more open to challenges, embracing the unfamiliar or uncomfortable and willing to experience failure.

However, adopting this growth mindset means we must challenge our limiting self-beliefs that reinforce our fixed mindset. Limiting beliefs is the negative thoughts that hold us back, hindering our journey of self-improvement. 

RECOGNISE YOUR FIXED MINDSET. Start to be aware of how your fixed mindset, became your everyday internal dialogue. Fear of failure, procrastination, always being in your comfort zone or being a constant quitter could be why this mindset has been reinforced in your mind.

That being said, you need to start being conscious of what you’re saying to yourself daily. If you struggle with that, try speaking to yourself out loud, as it helps to be more aware of what you’re saying. 

REMOVE ANYTHING THAT DOESN’T ALIGN, i’m specifally talking about social media. There are so many self degarding or depreciating content(which are always disgusied as a ‘joke’) and the more you consume it, the more you believe it. 

However this can apply to your physical environment as well, such as people, sentimental objects or your actual space. 

START TO REDEFINE FAILURE. There are so many ways you can define failure, but my favourite has to be failure is the sacrifice for success. Of course, you can research other ways to redefine it that resonates with you.

However, allow yourself to grieve failures, especially if they had a huge impact on your life. The only way you can apply the lessons from failure in life is to process them. 

DO SOMETHING CHALLENGING EACH DAY. Whether it is giving yourself an extra 20 minutes at the gym, or trying to advance yourself in your studies, just do something that pushes you and hopefully, makes you struggle. 

Once we allow ourselves to struggle and be challenged, we start to develop the belief that being challenged is okay, not doing it perfect on the first try  is okay we can still do tasks without them being perfect + you’re also embracing failure. 

APPRECIATE YOUR EFFORT. Something is always better than nothing, not everything that we do has to be perfect to consider ourselves accomplished. Once we acknowledge the value of hard work and see how it impacts our day-to-day life, it enforces the belief that we can expand our skills even just by a little.

The perfect way to appreciate your effort is by celebrating or rewarding yourself. Allow yourself extra screen time, to sleep in, or do any of your favourite ‘unproductive’ activities. 

SEEK OUT NEW KNOWLEDGE. Not just reading an article and calling it a day, but actively researching something memorable. This doesn’t have to be a scholarly topic, it could be anything. When we start to desire to learn, which is practically the main thing about a growth mindset, it enforces those beliefs. 

BUILD RESILENCE. You’re going to fail, struggle, lose and maybe suffer. While it is important to grieve what happens, you should be able to bounce back after some time. Building this skill is so important in the growth mindset, as it helps you to take control of your emotions and not the other way around. 

This applies to constructive criticism as well. People will not always give you praise, but that doesn’t matter, what matters is your ability to act on that criticism. An outside perspective always helps to improve yourself and your abilities. 

[gatorlovebot]

nsfw. mdni. this is self indulgent but its my right as a 20 something who is getting ready to move out on their own for the first time to write about landlord john price ok <3

landlord price who buys a nice looking duplex in the city and fixes it up himself. lives in the top floor because he doesn’t need much space to himself and rents out the bottom unit. so far it had mostly been couples or smaller familes renting out the bottom unit, until you came along.

you, who had been saving money to rent something nice for yourself, something with a little extra space. the two bedroom downstairs unit is perfect for you, but you have pretty mixed feelings about your landlord living right above you. until you actually meet him.

upon moving in your greeted by the warm accent of john price. his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you and you can pick out grey hairs in his full beard. it’s so cliche, feeling butterflies for an older man whose kind to you but what are you supposed to do when he offers to help you bring in boxes, muscly arms on full display?

he allows you time and space to get settled in, with a promise of, “i’m just upstairs if you ever need anything.”

you don’t see him for the next few days until there’s a knock at your door and its him, looking soft and sweet in a grey henley, just in time for the colder fall weather. “would you care to join me for dinner? i tried a new soup recipe and seems like a i have enough to feed a small army.”

and that’s how you end up in his space for the first time. it’s tiday yet lived in. furniture dark and worn. you can tell a man lives here. dinner is nice, soup rich and filling. but john makes it so much better. effortlessly making you laugh with his bad jokes and stories. he’s warm and personable. your little crush grows when he walks you back downstairs to your unit when the sun goes down. you find yourself struggling to go inside to your empty apartment.

some days you see him and some days you don’t. your work schedule is consistent but you can’t get a read on his schedule, coming and going unpredicatably. life of a retiree, you think.

sometimes you catch him when you’ve come home from work. usually you’re thrilled to see him, an immediate smile stretching across your face and a blush on your cheeks as soon as you see his smile and hear his voice.

sometimes you curse his presence. like now, when you can’t even wait until you get inside your place before the tears start to fall. and of course john has to be in the front yard racking up leaves. you try to give a polite hello and walk up the steps inside, but john price can already read you like a book.

he’s pulling you into his chest before you even know it, big, solid arms wrapped around your shoulders holding you snug to him. “what’s got you so upset, huh?”

and you let the tears fall in earnest, feeling safe and secure with john. “work…just fucking sucks.”

“oh you poor thing,” he coos before gathering you up in his arms and leading you up to his place. he brews some tea as you sink into his couch, the leather warm and soft underneath you. once the teas done, he settles next to you and let’s you warble on about how unsupportive your work environment is and how your boss never follows through on his promises. he mostly just lets you talk, letting out an occasional hum in affirmation. that night he’s not very talkative, he’s much more tactile. running his hands up and down your arms, rubbing the tension from your shoulders and back as he allows you to lean on him until you’re practically in his lap. you’ve exhausted yourself crying and he thanks you for being so vulnerable with him and tells you that even though you don’t deserve all the bullshit at your job, you’re such a brave girl for fighting through it.

things continue to get more and more comfortable between you two. you would almost go as far as to say you would consider him a friend. you do still sometimes have awkward moments though. like when you go down to the basement to change your laundry from the washer to the dryer and you find him already placing your garments in. “oh sorry,” he says, flustered, a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks at being caught. “i spilt some paint on myself earlier while touching up the trim outside and really needed to get some stuff in the washer. i was going to message you asking if all this stuff could go in the dryer.”

he’s so thoughtful, you think. “yeah, it can all go in. thanks, john!”

hours later when you’re finally putting away your clean laundry you realize some of your panties are missing. oh well, its an older dryer, must have eaten them.

its months layer when your stomach drops as you read a text from john asking if you could come upstairs later tonight, there was something he needed to talk to you about. you feel a flash of panic, his text sounding serious. did you do something wrong? you had just seen him the previous day and everything between you seemed fine. you thought you were a great renter, but now you weren’t so sure.

you make your way up to his place and he greets you at the door, usual soft smile on his face.

“i just wanted to get something out in the open,” he starts as you both take a seat on the couch. “i’ve noticed an odor coming from downstairs late at night.”

for a moment you have no idea what he could be talking about, an odor, you think and then it hits you. your late night smoke sessions. “oh, yeah.” it dawns on you. “i’m so sorry about that.”

“no, no, it’s fine.” he reassures, “i would be a bit of a hypocrite myself to be honest, i smoke cigars constantly. try to keep it to just the back balcony but sometimes i break my own rules.”

“yeah, i don’t do it in the apartment because that would be rude, but,” you wince, “sometimes i get a little too lazy to go outside so i just do it out my bedroom window.”

“ah, no worries, dear. just wanted to let you know that i know.”

with your panic subsiding you feel a little bold, “would you like to smoke a little, john?”

“if you’re offering, i’ll be on the balcony.”

you would have never imagined sharing a joint with john would lead you here. in his lap, legs splayed open with your pants around your ankles. listening to the wet sounds of your pussy as he dips his big fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots. your brain is floaty and your limbs feel weightless against his big body that surrounds yours.

there’s a constant stream of nonsense and whimpers that leaves your lips as you dumbly watch him pet your swollen clit. but its the filth from his mouth that really gets you. “such a pretty little thing fo’ me, huh?”

“this little cunt ‘s all mine, right?”

“i’ve been thinking about touching you like this since the day you moved in.”

“cum on my fingers, sweet girl, i know you want to.”

and you do, clenching around his fingers as you keen and moan through it. there’s a whispered, “good girl,” deep and gravelly in your ear before you’re being lifted into john’s arms as he carries you back inside, to his bedroom.

[conflictofthemind]

Thoughts on "Escape from Camazotz"

Oppressive Suburbia, Conformity, and Season 5 Themes

I've long thought that a major focus of Season 5 will be the contrast between the families of The Wheelers and The Byers, and exploring how non-traditional family environments can be freeing vs the oppressive structure of the nuclear family.

In a Wrinkle In Time, Camazotz is a planet controlled by the big bad of the book, the "IT", who forces the citizens into a conformity that resembles American suburbia. All of the houses the same, the citizens the same, doing the same things at the same time without individual identity. Without anything different. Different means a lot of things, but with Stranger Things dropping different in reference to Will's identity and the presumable themes of this season, it will heavily codify as queerness and how it threatens the cisheterosexual family model.

Henry was raised in the 1950s, a decade still revered by conservatives for it's traditional family dynamics that supposedly were the peak of culture and happiness for all. That was all a lie, of course, and Henry knew so as he shows to Nancy and Eleven during his monologue. The second most conservative decade aside from the 1950s in American society is widely considered to be the 1980s.

The Creels will serve in parallel to The Wheelers; the worst example of what they could become and the damage that this type of family could do to a child that is different in any way. Notice how Vecna selectively shows Nancy visions of The Wheelers dying, but not anyone else she may consider family or friends (like Jonathan).

That is; unless they change their ways and come together as a healthy functioning family facing their traumas, The Wheelers will be toast.

Karen has been moved up to a main character role this season. Ted's actor says the father starts to show up more for Holly (hold that) and realizes he wants to act differently. Holly has been recast. Finn has said Mike goes on a much more personal journey this season, and steps up as a leader.

Oh, also: the catalyst for all of this is that Holly goes missing. The contrast will help show how the Byers (including El and Hopper here) were able to pull together and help solve Will's disappearance, versus how the Wheelers as a closed off nuclear family grapple with Holly's vanishing.

Each of the Byers is in some kind of a non-1950s conformist relationship, but particularly Will (not in one now but we all know he will be). I think El might represent, after she breaks up with Mike, the fear of the unmarried woman being satisfied without a husband. The above shot really emphasizes my point.

I predict that Will will end up coming out to his family rather early on, and we will see all of them immediately accept him with little surprise or push-back. Will is a visible gay man who comes from an open minded non traditional family (divorced, non-married, adoptive) that is willing to have honest conversations.

But this theme will place the most focus on the Wheelers. Mike is the main character of said family and this will particularly focus on his arc, and his acceptance of his queerness in the midst of suburban conformity.

He is not visible, he comes from a Reagan-supporting family who don't communicate with each other. He is not particularly close with his family like Will is. He pushes his feelings down and tries his damn hardest to be normal despite it all. His trauma hasn't really been addressed at all. He is falling back into his usual habits - the one thing he dared to do different (grow his hair long) has gone back to how it was.

It's not all doom and gloom though. This season above all will be a redemption arc of the American nuclear family, how they choose to escape their conformity and learn to be there for each other, thus overpowering Vecna. Not that the Wheelers are going to end this personally.

"Great, more hysteria. Just what we need". "It's the news, now indistinguishable from the tabloids".

[kookslastbutton]

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter one

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love,

word count: 6.5k+

warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained yoon, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, rude Hybe executive that should be fired, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, and cute yoon and oc interactions bc yeah....its thier first time actually meeting so it must be cute!

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: YAHHH chapter one!! Ok i apologize if the meeting is so long and drawn out...I really tried to make it fun but so much info is needed too haha. Anyway this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Winter in Seoul feels like stepping onto the set of your most beloved holiday film.

As the brisk air wraps around you, delicate snowflakes gather atop your head, urging you to cocoon in your finest wool trench coat. Yet, despite the chill, the sight of frost-bitten trees basking in the morning's golden rays offers a source of warmth and delight. Perhaps the most radiant tree of them all is the towering Christmas tree that sits proudly in the heart of the city. Adorned with shimmering red and gold baubles, the giant evergreen catches the eye of every person that walks by–both tourists and locals alike.

Nearby shopping malls buzz with holiday fervor too as shoppers scour for treasures, couples engage in friendly competition to find the ultimate gift, and children line up to take their picture with Santa. But the best part is when night falls. The whole city comes alive with joy and laughter as loved ones meet one another on the ice-skating rinks, while karaoke bars echo tipsy renditions of timeless songs sung by overworked professionals, each with a bottle of soju in hand.

Yes, Seoul is a place for making memories and you’re in the thick of it.

Having been in the city for three years, one might assume you’ve become well accustomed to the energy of the season. You've really grown to love it here. But adjusting to the new environment is still proving to be a challenge, the most outstanding being the prevailing beauty standards.

Massive billboards featuring stunning models serve as constant reminders of the type of beauty one should aim to achieve as you commute to work. Impossible to miss are the shining examples themselves – iconic k-pop groups Seventeen, Red Velvet, EXO, BlackPink, Mamamoo, TXT, and of course BTS plastered on the side of every flat surface imaginable. You’re not exactly complaining about that aspect as you’ve helped design a good handful of them as a top marketing and advertising professional. But the strict image of what constitutes a beautiful and worthy individual weighs on you more than you’d like.

While a conventional body type isn’t what you’ve been given in this life, you don’t consider yourself to be completely unattractive either. Having high cheekbones, a strong jawline, striking light brown eyes, good enough ass, and a full chest shouldn’t classify as undesirable. Still, you wish you’d adopt this more body positive mindset rather than your current overthinking one. It’s easier said than done, being that you not only see idols everyday on the streets in digital form but at work as well.

You continue further into city until a set of tall, glass doors meet you mere steps away. You tilt your head back to catch the name of the skyscraper before nearing the building’s sturdy, silver handle.

BigHit Music.

Feeling its cool metal under your fingertips, the door swings open with an easier pull than imagined to welcome you into the bustling lobby. You feel a rush of confidence return to you upon entering– this is your domain, this is where you truly shine.

“Did you get the files I sent to you?”

The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.

Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.

You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.

"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”

You recall Bang PD's voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.

The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.

Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.

You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.

“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”

“On the 16th floor right?”

“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”

Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.

"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.

“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”

Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.

You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before.

Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.

"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."

Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.

After another late-night prep session for Monday’s D-Day proposal, you trudge through your apartment door well past 8:30 pm with an empty stomach and a throbbing headache. Good news is that your graphic design team seems to be well on track with their album mockups ready to present.

The same can’t be said for your U.S. promo team however, who required additional guidance on their projects. The social media team was in a similar boat. Somehow several of their members lost track of time and were convinced the proposal was still two weeks away.

Despite the hiccups, you managed to tie up the loose ends, but it meant that none of you got to leave early.

When you finally get to curl up in your fluffy sofa, a loud, exasperated sigh leaves your lips. Your lids flutter shut too as you rest your head against the soft cushion. Silently, you make one last mental rundown of all the tasks you checked off today.

Did you miss anything?

D-Day is the most crucial project you’ve ever taken charge of—you need it to be flawless.

When nothing pressing comes to mind, you grab the tv remote from your dark oak coffee table and aimlessly flip through the channels. You’ll unwind for an hour and then call it a night.

Ten minutes into an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the light chime of your phone's notification bell catches your ear.

Tae 💚: Haven’t heard from you all day. Everything alright?

Taehyung, your best friend. You smile fondly at his message as your thumbs hover over the reply button. He's always checking in on you. You and Taehyung have been friends ever since you first moved to Seoul and started working at Hybe. You didn't expect your friendship to become this strong, but both of you are sociable individuals, which led to discovering several unexpected commonalities. One of those is a shared love for jazz, which has been one of your all-time favorite genres for as long as you can remember.

You: yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Been working on D-Day's proposal for months and finally got it fully prepped for.

Tae 💚: Well, that's amazing news! You feel good about it?

You: I don't know. I’m definitely ready for this project but I’m also starting to feel a little burned out. The proposal is only the beginning you know, and it's already taking the wind out of me.

Tae 💚: Sorry to hear that 😞 I'm sure it must be draining, but I also know this is your territory. No one is more fit to head this project than you. Everyone thinks so. How about you take the weekend to rest?

You: Yeah...I'm watching B99 rn

Tae 💚: B99?! Without me?

You can't help but giggle. Somehow over the course of three years you've roped your best friend into becoming obsessed with your mindless sitcoms. You've done more than a handful of binge watching together, until all hours of the night.

You: Wanna come over for an hour?

The company might be nice.

Tae 💚: Be there in 20 🏃

Your door bells rings exactly twenty minutes after you and Taehyng finish exchanging texts. He's so prompt it scares you sometimes.

“Hey.” His deep, baritone voice greets you first, along with a friendly hug. Taehyung slips his snow covered boots off upon entering your apartment and hangs his wool jacket on your coat rack. His limited edition Gucci scarf is next. Taehyung loves the winter as it’s the time he can wear his most luxurious clothes.

“What’s this?” You peak inside a brown paper bag that Taehyung has conveniently set on your kitchen countertop. He flashes you a playful grin and gestures you to open it. Naturally, you're suspicious but it all washes away when a new, unopened bottle of whiskey presents itself. “Oh my god, you didn’t!" You swat his arm in a rush of excitement.

“I had to!" Taehyung opens a kitchen cupboard and grabs a glass from the top shelf. He's been in your apartment enough times that he’s grown comfortable with your place. That and he's also your best friend.

"With all the recent events you've had going on, I think it calls for a celebration." Taehyung expertly pours you a glass of the smooth, rich liquor and offers it to you.

“Thank you, Tae," you say, taking the glass from his hand. "Come sit down. Jake's about to sing I Want It That Way with the police lineup.” Taehyung pours himself a glass of Pinot Noir and follows your lead.

After about forty minutes of sitcoms and booze with your best friend you begin to feel yourself relaxing. Whatever challenges lies ahead, you know you'll be able to handle them one whiskey at a time.

All stream of thought is interrupted when your phone dings off again. It's now half past 9, who on earth is trying to reach you?

Fuck.

You tighten the grip on your phone as soon aa the message appears. Taehyung, previously occupied by the end credit scene, catches the sudden shift in your demeanor and calls your name but he's inaudible to you.

Mom: It’s been almost two weeks since we last heard from you. We know you're busy but your father and I want to know if you’ll be coming home. The holidays are coming up right? Why don't you use some of that time to come see us? There's someone we want you to meet.

"__, who is it?" Taehyung's voice manages to break your intense concentration.

“Just my mom.” You answer briefly, still averting eye contact.

“What’d she say?”

“She wants me to come home for the holidays.” You shut your phone off in an effort to calm yourself.

Unlike Taehyung your relationship with your parents has always been rocky. Expectations are set high from birth and you never see eye to eye. Likely, the only accomplishment that's earned genuine praise from them was when you accepted your initial job proposal with Hybe. A respectable career is only second to health to them after all. Your father was more torn with the news that you’d be moving hundreds of miles away than your mom however, not that you’re surprised.

Of course while having a healthy and respectable career is priority for your parents, there is no mistake that their greatest wish is to see their daughter married. A stable man with ample resources to provide her a secure home and healthy children is preferable.

You love your parents and you'll always be there for them, but you must admit that their traditional outlook is one you can never live up to. They tried setting you up dozens of times before, and tonight's request to have you come home "for the holidays to meet someone” is simply another attempt to marry you off.

Yes, you would like some sort of companionship in your life and you hope if you find it that they’ll approve. But giving your hand in marriage to the first notable suitor isn't your forte. You consider yourself to be an independent woman with a tender heart, and you'd rather be single for the entirety of your life than be forced into another obligation.

Preserving your independence is highly important to you. So no, you draw the line when it comes to relational affairs.

If only you could be firm and repeat all the above to them aloud, rather than within your own head— if only.

“So are you gonna go?"

You don't respond immediately, still weighing out your options. "Not sure," you murmur. "I don't really want to but maybe I should. I haven't gone home to see my parents since last year."

Taehyung recognizes the growing tension in your voice as well as the flushed expression playing on your face. He wishes he could take it all away but instead he moves closer to your side of the sofa and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He's silent for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you tell them you can't go because of work? There must be a number of things you'll need to get ahead of for Yoongi's album."

"True. But it's too easy, they won't buy that. I have to go."

"What if you say I invited you to celebrate with my family this year? We're going to a nice, cozy cabin a few hours north of here for Christmas."

The offer is temping and you know he means it but it's also not enough.

"No," you reject. "They'll think we're dating and ask to meet you."

"I'll do it!" Taehyung's voice lifts into a more playful tone, earning a soft chuckle from you.

"Very cute Taetae, but no. Neither of us are going to say 'that was a good idea' in the end, trust me. I'll have to make this decision on my own."

Taehyung grimaces slightly at your last choice of words. "I really think you should consider telling them you can't due to a full schedule. We don't get that much time off at the company any way. Don't your parents live at least 7-10 hours away? Come on, spend the holidays with me and the guys. Plus, it'll be my birthday soon. I want you there at my party."

When you look at your best friend to gently scold him for not so sneakily using the guilt tripping technique, he's pouting. Like a baby. Not even you can resist him with that face on.

"Fine. I'll think about it."

"Good," Taehyung chirps and snatches the tv remote to flip through episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. "I want you to be around those closest to you, especially around the holidays. You're my badass best friend who deserves more than some stupid forced marriage to a guy with an unhealthy alpha male complex. Should we top the night off with one more episode by the way?"

You nod and Taehyung hits play on the remote. "Thank you," you coo, feeling a tad better.

The weekend is a blur at best and you’re back at the office before you realize. Of course this is no ordinary work day however, given that today signifies the day you officially start work as D-Day’s marketing director. You’ve been perfecting every detail of the proposal like a madman since the beginning, meticulously obessing over every element. Your new team members must have a pretty eye-opening understanding of what it’ll be like having you as a lead for the next year–you pity them to be honest.

Between your fingers clutches a small tube of lip balm, berry flavored with a faint tint to match. You love chapstick for some odd, inexplainable reason and you felt the need to apply a generous amount of it on your lips for good luck.

“No one’s here yet,” Yi-joon, one of the members of your graphic design team, speaks first upon stepping foot into your assigned conference room. Others hum, unsurprised. Being the ones leading the presentation, you’d be startled if anyone actually arrived beforehand.

A grand mahogany table, seating up to 14 individuals, boasts itself to you in the middle of the room with every chair lined in genuine black leather. Traditional seating arrangements have one chair at the head of the table, but today’s meeting has two, both positioned to face the wide presentation screen at the opposite end.

Undoubtably, they’re reserved for Bang PD and Min Yoongi.

A momentary shiver courses down your spine, yet fades quick when one of your team members asks if anyone's seen the remote to the projector. There’s no time for nerves to be acting up, you remind yourself calmly. Only 15 minutes remain until every C-suite executive in Hybe congregates into the room.

With a composed demeanor, you swiftly gather your thoughts and respond, "Try checking inside the podium. It's likely close by, but if not, we can always power it on manually." You then start delegating tasks to the rest of your team, mentally rehearsing key points of the proposal between each instruction.

Time appears to have vanished in the blink of an eye because in a matter of seconds a gentle breeze slips through the conference door, accompanied by the arrival of several Hybe executives. You offer a polite "good morning," which is briefly reciprocated as they take their respective seats around the conference table.

You count twelve at the table in total, including your own team.

"Sajangnim should be here in about–"

Hybe's Chief Finance Officer doesn't get to finish his sentence when an older gentleman in a freshly pressed suit walks through the door, fully immersed in conversation. The person following close behind him is none other than the man of the hour himself–Min Yoongi, fitted in a clean white dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His soft, raven hair falls gently in front of his eyes, framing his face a little too well.

Unexpectedly, both your gazes shift from Bang PD and onto one another. His dark, intense eyes pierce through you as they observe you from the opposite side of the room. You're certain he recognizes you from your previous shared encounters, though you don't have the slightest clue what he's thinking. Min Yoongi has been known to be many things, but an open book isn't one of them.

He then walks in your direction until he's directly toe to toe with you for the very first time. Completely against your wishes, you feel all the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. You've never officially met before.

"It's nice to finally meet you __-nim. Those nods we give each other in the hallway hardly count as a proper introduction." He extends a hand to you, offering you a sturdy handshake which you accept.

"Absolutely, it's a pleasure to meet you as well Min PD-nim," you say, smiling warmly. "I'm looking forward to working with you on your new album. I truly appreciate the opportunity."

For a split second, Yoongi allows his professional demeanor drop. "I should be the one thanking you. You'll be the one leading this whole operation right? So I'll be in your care."

You want to respond with gratitude, but you're not given the chance due to an authoritative voice speaking up from behind.

"Min PD-nim," Hybe's Vice President calls out to the man in front of you, requesting his attention.

Yoongi is hesitant to leave you mid-conversation but you assure him that it's alright. "Please, feel free to take a seat," you offer. "The presentations will begin soon."

A small, subtle smile graces Yoongi's lips before he turns around to take his seat beside Bang PD at the head of the table. He engages in small talk with Hybe's Vice President who's conveniently seated across from him. Yet despite their conversation, he's only half focused; his eyes repeatedly wandering back to you. At this point, however, you've already stopped looking at him.

"Good morning, all," you address the room when the time comes to commence the meeting. "We'll be getting started now that everyone's here. I'm sending down samples of the album design our graphics team has created for D-Day. Please pass them along." You hand the stack of copies to Hybe's Chief Technology Officer who smiles courteously.

"On behalf of my team and me, I want to thank you for joining us today to discuss our marketing strategy for Min PD-nim's upcoming D-Day album. Our agenda will be as follows," you guide everyone's attention to the presentation board, which provides a rundown of all the points you plan to cover for the remainder of the meeting.

"Let's begin with introductions. My name is ___ ___, I hold a Bachelor's degree in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from NYU Stern, as well as an MBA in Marketing. Over the past five years, I've worked in the music industry as a marketing manager. Three of those years were spent here at Hybe. The recent promotional campaign for TXT's The Chaos Chapter was lead by my previous team and me, resulting in a positive return on investment. Now, with a new team, I aim to achieve similar success with Min PD-nim's D-Day album."

Once you finish your introduction, you introduce each member of your team. This is soon followed by a brief introduction from each c-suite executive.

The whole room falls silent when you begin diving into the bulk of the proposal; every measurable objective, goal, and market analysis is shared for D-Day. When it comes time to present the brand guide and album design, you invite your graphics team to speak.

"You'll notice that we have two versions of Min PD-nim's albums on the sheet in front of you," Yi-joon refers to the mockups you handed out earlier. A few executives nod quietly as they study the proposed album packaging while Yoongi leans over to Bang PD. He's whispering something but you're far to distant away to hear. His expressions aren't telling either.

Does he like it? Does he not? You don't know.

Nevertheless, you give a subtle smile to Yi-joon as encouragement to continue.

 "We've opted for a sleek, pitch-black design for the first version, and a dusty brown for the second. The first version symbolizes the past, characterized by societal expectations and internal struggles, while the second represents the present and future, conveying a message of liberation. To complement these themes, we've selected a bold and daring font to exude the album's transparency. This design consistency extends to the album's contents; for instance, lyrical cards will reflect the respective color and style of the version they belong to."

Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer appears to be in approval with the entirety of the plan so far, yet it's short lived when a low voice interrupts.

"I think the vision of album's design aligns closely with mine, so I like what I see in front of me." Yoongi pauses and places the mockup on the table. "There's one aspect that I'd like to discuss in hopes of some insight however. I've been mauling over it for a while now."

"I'll do my best to–" Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer opens his mouth to respond yet closes it immediately when he notices Yoongi's gaze sharply shifts to you. It's a signal that it's your insight he specifically requests.

"Please go on," you reply.

"Regarding the name under which the album should be released, should it be 'Agust D' or 'Suga'? I'm personally biased towards Agust D because it holds more weight for me. It's close to my heart and the stories I have to tell as Agust D are heavier than those of Suga, right? The D even stands for Daegu, my hometown where I grew up and where my parents still live. Suga on the other hand is my stage name, which I have some identity in as well."

You don't answer immediately, preferring to carefully process everything he's said. Your team has already proposed to release the album under 'Agust D', yet he makes a valid point that 'Suga' is also a part of him.

"I understand that releasing the album under 'Suga' has its merit. However, I still support the original idea of releasing it under 'Agust D'. As you've mentioned, the name carries a deeper meaning, evoking memories, emotions, trials, and tribulations. I'd also like to emphasize that by releasing D-Day under 'Agust D', you can showcase who the real Agust D is. The collaboration with IU in People Pt. 2 already has you one step in that door."

Like you, Yoongi considers your words cautiously, weighing them in his mind. "Thank you ___-nim," he finally speaks. "Your perspective is reassuring. We'll proceed with releasing the album under 'Agust D'.

Following your short discussion, the graphics team continues presenting their design materials. Minor comments are made by Hybe executives, but Yoongi doesn't comment again until half-way into the social media segment.

"Why do we need to schedule this many Weverse Lives? People might get tired of seeing my face after so many in a row. ARMY will read, 'Min Yoongi started a live' and say to their friends, 'This is the fifth time in a row, is he in love with his own voice or something?'." His joke sparks a light in the room as Bang PD gives a chuckle.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue for you Yoongi," he replies. "Don't you know the strength of your own fanbase?" Bang PD's statement is undeniable. Everyone in the room is well aware of Min Yoongi's international fanbase who willingly stay up all hours of the night just to catch a glimpse of him. In fact, rather than seeing less of him, they hope to receive his live notifications more, as Yoongi isn't as active on Weverse as other idols.

It's clear that compliments like these aren't easy for Yoongi to take though, judging by the flushed look that subtly sweeps over his face. You'd react the same way to be honest.

"If I may Min PD-nim," you speak up, deciding to offer an alternative plan. "Leveraging Weverse Live to help promote D-Day will draw significant international engagement. We know that time differences pose to be a challenge which is why we proposed an increase of live sessions per week. However, we understand that going live this often might be exhausting. Would you consider reducing the frequency to once or twice a week instead?"

"I'm open to once a week but didn't we film the 'Suga: Road to D-Day' documentary for a similar reason? Won't it be too much to add more than two Weverse Lives throughout the entire promotional phase?" Yoongi's challenge is met with an unanimous hum of support from his fellow executives. You'd feel intimidated if you didn't already have a justification mapped out.

"The objective behind releasing 'Suga: Road to D-Day' on Disney+ differs from that of Weverse Lives," you rebuttal confidently. "While the documentary presents a structured behind-the-scenes view of D-Day's development, the Lives focus on building hype among your existing fans who know you well, will spread the word to their peers, and will likely pre-order the album. As you're aware, Lives are more personal and stripped down, allowing your fanbase to feel closer to you."

Thinking of no further objectives, Yoongi, still somewhat unsure, accepts your suggestion. "Once a week will be fine then. While we're still on the topic, do we know when 'Suga: Road to D-Day' is set to release on Disney+?"

"Our digital marketing and promo team will be reviewing the specifics of that soon," you inform. "Right now we have the documentary releasing April 23 of next year. The poster for the film will release a week and a half earlier on the 12th."

Rather than furthering the discussion, Yoongi sends an understanding nod your way which allows the social media team to resume their portion of the proposal. Recording more Weverse Lives than usual remains a pain point for him, but he's willing to move forward if it means connecting with his fanbase.

Alast, after what seems like three hours of social media; followed by financing & budget talk, the last team to present their material takes lead of the meeting.

"We'd like to provide a timeline for D-Day's promo schedule as a way to wrap up today's proposal," So-hyun from your digital marketing and promos team explains. "Promotions will begin April 10, 2023 and will run until April 25th. During this time the album's track list, concept photos, MV Teaser, and official MV will drop. As far as concert schedule, we're proposing April 26-June 24. These dates include U.S, Asia, and Korea Tours."

"We might need to rethink concert dates but for now I'm on onboard." Yoongi remains brief in his interjection, allowing So-hyun to continue.

"As far as other marketing channels, we plan to implement both print and digital methods including billboards, banners, paid search ads, and YouTube. We'd also like to reach out to a variety of magazines like Rolling Stones Magazine for interviews. If we want to extend our global reach even further, we can book a time slot on the Jimmy Fallon Show. Bare in mind that if we go this route, we'll need to decide fairly quick, as slots are in high demand."

You notice Bang PD whispering amongst Yoongi and his Chief Finance Officer when Jimmy Fallon is mentioned. Yoongi seems the least interested. Perhaps he isn't fond of being front and center of talk shows, you guess.

"When will we need a decision for the Jimmy Fallon Show?" Bang PD inquires for the group.

"No later than three weeks from now," So-hyun answers. "It's a tight deadline but it can been done if we get the official go."

Bang PD directs his attention to Yoongi who's chosen to be silent in this conversation. "What do you think, Yoongi? It's your call."

"Maybe," he says, "give me a day or two to think on it."

Another ten minutes of productive overview with your promos team pass and soon, you're standing up to adjourn the meeting. You have to admit that out of all the proposals you've given in your career, this goes right to the top.

Your team was phenomenal today, and despite the the fact that several Hybe executives are biting at the bit to finally go on their lunch break, you feel confident that everyone is leaving on the same page.

"Min PD-nim."

You're ears inevitably pick up the conversation in front of you as you make your way out of the conference room. Yoongi and his Chief Financial Officer are running through some quick numbers only a few steps steps ahead, but with everyone simultaneously rushing in the same direction, neither must have realized you were within earshot.

"There's no doubt that she's good at what she does," Hybe's Chief Financial Officer continues. "Still, it's hard to believe that she's only 27 or 28. A person should take better care of themselves don't you agree? Like our Eunchae for example."

If there was a way to erase what you just heard, you'd do so, because in an instant, all previous successes you felt from today's proposal shatters to the ground. You're no stranger to receiving these sorts of comments about your appearance, yet it leaves your confidence fleeting, along with any amount of resilience you've built.

Blinking back the tears that threaten to spill, you exit the conference room the first chance you get. You have no desire to stick around for Yoongi's reply.

Not long after you leave does you phone ring off.

Tae 💚: Hey! How's the meeting going? Still available to get lunch this afternoon? I'm heading to the cafeteria as I type this.

You: It went okay. But I don't think I'll be coming to lunch, just a lot to do. I'm also not that hungry.

You second-guess how convincing your message is, knowing that it's your best friend on the other line. Regardless, it's the only words you can come up with right now. You really do have a lot of work ahead of you though, at least that part is true.

Tae 💚: Are you sure? I was looking forward on hearing how the meeting went! Wasn't there something you had to give me too?

The meaning of the last line suddenly dawns on you as you make your way down the long hallway. How could you forget? You made Taehyung one of his favorite foods to surprise him for lunch; Japchae, a sweet and savory dish of stir-fried glass noodles and vegetables.

You: Right, sorry it slipped from my mind for a second. I'll meet you in the cafeteria to give it to you.

"Why won't you stay and eat with me?" Taehyung devours the homemade Japchae you made for him with delight, a pair of chopsticks clamped in his hand.

"I don't have much of an appetite, Tae."

You've already told him this twice already, clarifying that you'd be heading back to your office once you deliver his food. Evidently, he's not letting you slip away easily.

"Then take a break with me instead, even if it's only for ten minutes." You watch as your best friend swiftly pulls out the chair next to him from under the table, gesturing you to sit. "Tell me what's got you down," he says. "Did Yoongi say something to you? He can be a bit too outspoken with his opinions sometimes."

Feeling defeated, you slide into the chair. "No, the meeting was fine. I'm just overthinking something that happened."

You then proceed to explain what you overheard Hybe's Chief Finance Officer say about you from earlier, that you didn't look healthy enough for your age and using Eunchae as an example. The scowl that appears on Taehyung's face as you retell the incident is unmistakable–he's clearly pissed.

"First of all," Taehyung starts once you finish, jaw clenched. "Eunchae is 17 and is a part of a Korean girl group. She has an entire team dedicated to making sure her appearance is flawless. It's the idol life; trust me, I'm well acquainted with it, so it's not a fair comparison. Secondly, Hybe's CFO is an asshole who I'd replace in a day. I don't want you letting him make you feel insignificant just because you don't conform to his narrow idea of how a woman should look."

You appreciate Taehyung's efforts to cheer you up, though you remain unaffected. Besides, he still isn't aware of Yoongi's involvement since you purposely left that detail out due to their close friendship.

"Yeah, I don't know. We don't have to talk about it anymore." You decide to dismiss the topic entirely and reach for your phone, along with a pair of earbuds bundled in your pocket. "Wanna listen to something?"

Music has always bonded you and Taehyung's friendship, as you've frequently found yourselves fully immersed in timeless songs from King of Leon and Led Zeppelin together. Taehyung nearly accepts the offer to listen with you once again, but then he freezes all movement. An eager grin follows close after.

"Hyung!" His voice echos though the room, earning the attention of Min Yoongi who's just entered the cafeteria. This time, you feel nothing but discomfort when the man looks your way.

"I have some material I need to review from my promo team. I'll text you later, okay?" You leave your best friend no time to reply as you quickly rise from your chair, stick your phone in your pant pocket, and head for the nearest exit. Yoongi attempts to make eye contact with you on your way out, but you avoid it completely.

When he approaches Taehyung, he acknowledges your semi-odd behavior. "I didn't mean to make her leave," he states, joining the younger at the table.

Taehyung offers a light shrug in response. "Don't worry, you didn't. She had other matters to get to. Something with her team members I think."

Yoongi grabs a fresh clementine from a nearby fruit bowl and beings peeling it little by little. "You two must be pretty close if you're having your lunches together."

It's not hard for Taehyung to read between the lines of what his member is insinuating.

"We've been friends for a while," he clarifies. "Just friends, nothing else."

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think 🥰

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[astralnymphh]

♯┆spacesoldier/spacescientist!ellie: who won't shut up about the hookup between you and her from the night before, and longs to do it again, fully. .ᐟ ★

literally don't question the randomness of this blurb. i run on revelations and sudden visions, and this one was just too hot to let rot. i had to pause a whole request for this thing. and it's a bit rushed, i'll like expand on it some other time i just wanted to return to this trope. anyways, I digress— space scientist ellie, nine month voyage through the cosmos, hookups.. tipsy hookups.

it'd be morningtime in the wake of certain events preceding that memories would slowly begin to prick through the surface— owing to ellie's imperfect subtlety. hills and hills of planetary research, prototype weaponry, instructions on how to properly utilize said prototypes, and coffee-stained reports, dawdled through like the process couldn't get any more boring than it presently is; stress, procrastination, a murk in the thick of your thoughts— literal brainrot. then, the main office zone gate slides open, that little airy whir pulls through your ears, and the person that walks through foments sudden recollection to the promotion party last night. ellie. a new recruit under your stations wing— and the immodest girl who was under your hood many hours ago.

ellie is a damnable pesterer of love; portending that if you've ever been intimate with her, she'll be stuck to you like an idiot's tongue adheres to icicles in wintertime. and tipsy her definitely was after you two had sex: pleading for you to stay a minute longer to cuddle, pressing every work-related praise hot into your nape, mentioning how good you taste out of the blue, so on and so forth. yet now that it is a bright and advantageous morning, and considering that she woke up to the scent of you woven through each fiber of her clothes— she remembers, and she reminds.

ellie's got her legs crossed, arms crossed, leaned against your desk's edge, small butt of hers rudely stamping one of your precious folders; the usual stance she does when you're plying your trade, and she prying for attention. "seriously. thursday, you and me, conference room number twenty-seven, i'll bring wine and fetch dinner from the canteen— please?" an earnest ask, you can sense it in her tone; evenly pitched and soft, softer when she pleads, as always, albeit that the spaceship you dwell in has no actual restaurant so dating environments are centered around some good old D.I.Y and empty meeting rooms. her foot winds out slightly to tap the spokes of your office chair, nudging the focus you so dearly casted to the papers below you, to her instead. which regrettably works; tossing an eye roll as you spin, "dates and recreational dinners don't fit into anyone's schedule here, you know that." it aches to claim that, and aches harder to see her take that hit of an that answer. watching her head drop and her mouth tug into a contemplative shape that wanted to battle it out with excuses, loopholes, promises— but it forms into a grin rather, and decides to be impish. "had time for last night though, didn't we? a great time, actually, n' i wanna see where that.." her voice sinks into the pit of her throat— deep and reserved — and her thumbs start to do that cute fiddly thing at her waist, rolling over each other while the rest of her fingers intwine and overlap, "—takes us?" modifying her words into a delicate, unsure question. a toothy, one-sided smile and sad puppy brows, ugh you could just pinch her cheeks. but of course, she spices up the deal, "hopefully.. back into my room, if my flirting skills aren't total shit." annoyingly rambling as a way to showcase how gravely you've impacted her mind the last twelve or so hours. so grave, you're the only thing her motivation could cling upon to urge her limbs and weasel her sluggish weight out of bed earlier. "please?"

that please chisels a smile into your lips, unfortunately-fortunate, "god, you're so bad, williams." poking fun at her and coasting the wheeled chair away with the back of your knees straightening, rising from your seat with documents in-hand, and agreeance in-mind; written ripe on your lifted cheeks.

"was i?" said indirectly, a cocky implication twisting her cheeks to the same level as yours. it took you— let's say, two, three, awkward seconds of squinting before you understood her crafty-ass joke that took your words a completely different, and lewd direction. stupidly faced too: cocking her brow with the scar slicing through, and cocking one side of her head upwards too, overall just cocky. now you could just squeeze her annoying face until it exploded. figuratively.

"shut up." "okay."

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