#followed by the 'several people are typing' notif

[other-peoples-coats]

taking a bat to a hornets nest at work, only the hornets are pointed at management, or; casual question implying that they might make us effectively work a public holiday with a new schedule

[sageispunk]

What U Need (18+)

Kinktober prompt: exhibitionism (day 3)

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Teasing Joel underneath a table in a bar sometimes leads to getting ruined on the side of the road.

"Your hands trailed along the zipper of his jeans, fingers teasing his cock over the fabric long enough to make Joel Miller begin to fall apart right in front of you. Right here, in the middle of this bar."

wordcount: 2.5K+

warnings: no Y/N, preestablished relationship, age gap (early 20s + mid-40s), no-outbreak + no sarah, reader’s feeling a bit feral in a bar, joel doesn’t talk much at first, intoxication, teasing, exhibition/public play (no panties in public), over-clothes touching, cursing (obv), degrading language (he calls reader a “dumb fucking slut” at one point), unprotected p-in-v sex (WRAP B4 U TAP), foreplay, angry/horny joel, kinda desperate reader tbh, groping, joel gets a bit rough, the word “daddy” is used several times, dom/sub vibes, praise kink, CREAMPIE, reader has hair that can be gripped/pulled

A/N: follow my sideblog @sageispunklibrary and turn on notifs to be updated when i post!! 🩷

You were on your third– no, fourth cocktail since arriving at the bar with Joel about thirty minutes ago. Your body was so warm that you could feel your dress clinging to your skin from the light moisture. You looked across the table at Joel, who was silently people-watching as he nursed his second glass of whiskey. He looked so sexy tonight, dressed in a black crew neck shirt that was tight enough to show off the outlines of his chest and beefy biceps. He also wore the necklace you recently bought him for his birthday, a simple thin gold chain that you found that same night was nice to look at while he was propped up above you, pounding your pussy into oblivion.

The memory of that night began to play in your mind, making your body heat up even more. Your feet subconsciously moved around under the table as your thighs clenched, one of them bumping into Joel’s, bringing his attention back to you. “Y’okay there, darlin’?”

You looked into his dark chocolate eyes, and responded. “Mhm, just a little warm, is all…”

He could tell there was more but decided to leave it be, to your surprise. You could feel your frustration growing the longer you sat still in your seat. Then his phone vibrated on the table. He picked it up and let out a deep sigh as he began to type out a reply. “Work?” You asked, already knowing the answer. The only other option would’ve been Tommy, and Tommy would’ve just called.

Joel grunted out a ‘yea’ and set the phone back down. The lack of conversation had you feeling needy, not having seen him all day because of work, and even now at 10 o’clock, work was still getting in the way. You watched as he picked up the glass and knocked back the rest of his drink, the way his adam’s apple bobbed as the liquid slid down his throat had your brain feeling fuzzy.

You cleared your throat, deciding to down the rest of the margarita. Joel noticed you were finished too, and slid out of the booth. “Heading over, y’want another?” You nodded, making brief eye contact before your eyes nervously looked elsewhere. He lingered back for half a second, wondering what was making you act so strange, but decided to just head to the counter.

After Joel left, your neediness, horniness, whatever it was–it skyrocketed. Some part of you wanted to get up and drag him into the restroom so he could fuck your brains out in a filthy stall, but you knew he’d probably never go for it. Joel wasn’t a prude, far from it, but public sex wasn’t something the two of you ever got into.

Tonight though, you were feeling frisky and wanted to take some risks. Your booth was tucked away in a darker part of the bar, not many people were near you so you weren’t worried about being caught doing anything lewd. You briefly glanced around to be completely sure no one was watching, before slyly bringing your hands under the table, sliding your damp lace thong down your soft legs. Once you had the small fabric bunched up in your hands, you had to bite your bottom lip to keep a poker face. Excitement rushed through your system–paired with the alcohol, you were beginning to feel invincible.

A few moments later, Joel came back, both of your drinks in hand. As he slid back into the booth, he noticed the flustered look on your face and cocked his eyebrow a little. “Here ya go, baby.” His eyes were trained on your face as he handed it to you, the look in his eye a bit dark, calculating.

It turned you on, having no panties on in public, but even more that Joel didn’t know yet. However, you didn’t think this far ahead and you really wanted him to know as soon as possible, just to see what he might do. “Thank you, Joel..” You made doe eyes at him, taking in the way he shifted in his seat, obviously beginning to feel the effects of the brown liquor. “I missed you today, I feel like I don’t get to see you much because you’ve been working so much,” There was a slight pout in your voice, and it drew him in.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry,” His deep Texan accent paired with the petname sent a shiver down your spine, all the way to your lower belly. He leaned into the table more, face coming in closer and you could see the way his gaze kept moving back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “How can I make it up to ya?”

You mirrored his actions, leaning in on your left elbow with the side of your face in your palm, leaving only a few inches between both your faces. “Mm, I dunno, let me think..” You took this as your opportunity to sneakily find his hands under the table with your right hand, transferring the fabric to his hold. You innocently smiled at the confusion on his face while he pulled back to look at what you gave him.

“Wait don’t–” You chuckled as he almost brought the panties back over the table. Joel narrowed his eyes at you, trying to figure out what the hell you were trying to pull on him. Your eyes focused on his face, enjoying each expression on his face as he realized what he was holding.

He whispered your name, in a shocked but slightly dark tone, watching as you sat back in your seat with a big grin on your face. “What the hell do y’think you’re doin?!” He kept his voice down but the harshness remained. You could feel your seat getting wetter, your slick dripping down your thighs onto the faux leather.

With a shrug and another sip of your drink, you responded. “Just wanted to show you how much I’ve been missing you, is all.”

He was more taken aback than you expected. “By takin’ your panties off in the middle of a bar, like a fuckin’ slut??”

You leaned back in, faux innocence dripping from your lips. “I’m sorry daddy, do you not like it?” As soon as that word left your mouth, Joel’s eyes got darker, almost black. You had him. Your right hand snuck back under the table, finding its way to his crotch, where lo-and-behold sat a warm, throbbing, rock-hard cock in a tight pair of jeans. “If you don’t like it, I can put them back on. Might get caught though…” You slowly moved your hand up and down his bulge, finding pleasure in the way he struggled to keep his eyes open and stern.

“Seems you like it when I act like a slut, based on how hard your cock is for me right now.” You gave a gentle squeeze and smiled when he groaned, eyes fluttering shut and mumbling quietly. “Jesus Christ.”

Your hands trailed along the zipper of his jeans, fingers teasing his cock over the fabric long enough to make Joel Miller begin to fall apart right in front of you. Right here, in the middle of this bar.

“Alright, that’s enough.” He snapped out of it, eyes coming back up to meet yours with nothing but need in them. “Get the fuck up. Now.” You removed your hand, a bit thrown at the harshness of his voice but ultimately turned on and ready to do anything he asked of you. He threw back the rest of his whiskey and pulled out his wallet, as you sipped the remnants of your drink.

Joel threw down a wad of cash on the table before looking at you with a look that said “don’t make me repeat myself.” You stood, careful to keep your way-too-short dress below your ass, a gasp leaving your mouth at the wetness you left behind on the leather. As you took a napkin to wipe it up, Joel quickly stood up and roughly grabbed your arm to pull you in front of him, an effort to hide his huge boner from the other patrons. “Come on, sweetheart.” He gritted in your ear, letting you sort of guide him out the bar and to his truck.

For the past five minutes, Joel had been yelling your ear off. He was mad, mad that you would pull that shit in his favorite bar. Where everyone there knows him and his quiet but handy reputation. He was mad that you would risk fucking that all up ‘just for some dick.’

Like he doesn’t know the hold his dick has on you.

Anyways he shouted at you, driving about 15 over on the same dark road the two of you took to go home everyday. It didn’t bother you, really. You knew there was a chance he’d be pissed off, you were prepared. What was bothering you was the fact that you still hadn’t cum. You thought maybe he’d be mad and you would have the best angry sex of your life, right in the truck outside the bar, but nope.

“Are you even fuckin’ listening t’me?” His voice cut through your thoughts again, and you looked over, not even having to answer because he could read the look on your face. “Of course not, all you care about is your fuckin’ pussy. You probably can’t comprehend a goddamn thing I’m saying right now, can ya? Dumb fucking slut.”

The words he spit out at you had an unreal effect on you. The degradation had you sopping wet, surely soaking his seat. You tried not to squirm too much but you were in desperate need of some friction, you needed something or someone to touch you. Taking a deep sigh, you chose to not respond to him, focusing more on ways to achieve an orgasm without touch. Your thighs trembled slightly as they squeezed together, giving your clit a little extra stimulation. A breathy moan escaped your throat, catching Joel’s attention once again.

He didn’t comment this time, just glanced over at you with a look you couldn’t place. You saw him shake his head from your peripheral, but you paid him no mind, continuing your squeezing and looking out the dark window. Suddenly, the truck was pulling off onto some dark backroad that you’ve never gone on. Joel parked off on the side and cut the car off.

“What–” He cut you off. “Get out.”

You unbuckled, a bit confused but following orders nonetheless. Once you were out of the vehicle, you walked around the back where he stood. “Joel, what are we–” He grabbed you by your hair, pulling your face close to his, so that you could see him better.

“Since you can’t control yourself, we’re just gonna have to do this here.” His lips were so close to yours, you wanted so badly to move closer to feel them on your own, but his grip on you was tight. He tilted your head back with the fist in your hair, exposing your throat to him, other hand placed firmly on your jaw. When you felt his hot, wet tongue lick a stripe along your neck, you thought you would combust.

“Joooeellll…” You cried out, almost overstimulated by the way he was licking and sucking on your favorite spots. He groaned into your skin, the sound sending a pang to your lower stomach. God, he needs you as much as you need him.

You brought one hand down to his cock–still hard as a rock in his jeans–groping and squeezing the bulge, pulling more deep groans out of him. He took a break from his conquest on your neck and chest, turning you around to face the tailgate of his truck. “Fuck, darlin’...you’ve been wanting this all night, huh?”

You shook your head. “All day, daddy.”

“Say it again.” He ground into your ass with his cock, and you pushed back, wishing he would just take them off.

“I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day, daddy. I want your cock so bad, I need it in me please, just fuck me please…” You rambled, desperately needing him to ruin you.

You heard his zipper open, then the shuffle of his jeans down his legs, and you felt as though you’d been lost in the desert for weeks and finally, you’ve come across a cold spring of water. “One more time for me, baby.”

“Please fuck me daddy.” You cried out, not caring if anyone could hear you, even though it was unlikely in this rural area. As soon as the last word left your mouth, Joel pushed you forward slightly, causing your dress to finally roll up to your waist, and slid right inside of you, the both of you groaning in unison. He pulled back out slowly, drawing a long wail of his name out of your throat, before he quickly thrusted back inside of your warmth. His long, thick cock stretched you out and filled you up to the brim, reaching your favorite spot with each thrust. “Fuck, baby, goddamn this pussy is so fucking wet f’me…” Joel groaned praise into your ear, one hand still in your hair and the other now gripping your hip.

You used the little energy you had left to meet his rhythm, throwing your ass back to him, occasionally receiving a hard slap or two. “Joellll, baby, fuck!” Those three words made up your only vocabulary for a couple minutes, until he got you right there, at the edge.

“I’m so close, daddy.”

“I know baby, I can feel it, let go f’me okay. Cum for me sweetheart, you got it.” The degradation from only a few moments ago paired with the sweet things he was now panting in your ear had you about to explode. One of your hands gripped onto the tailgate and the other went straight to your clit, rubbing as fast as you could.

All you could hear was your own breathy moans, paired with Joel’s deep groans and the sloppy, gushing, wet unity of your two bodies.

Your entire body tightened up as you tipped over the edge, finally getting that release that you’ve needed all day. You screamed out in total bliss, your eyesight leaving you for a few moments. Right behind you, Joel let out a longggg groan, crying out to you. “Fuck, baby I’m cumming.”

“Cum for me, daddy, fuckkkk..” You felt him pulsing inside you, filling you up until it was leaking out around his cock. His hips slowed and stuttered, eventually slowing way down, his upper body resting on your back. “Jesus Christ,” Joel panted, leaving a couple kisses on your back.

You chuckled, all of a sudden feeling very, very tired and blissed out. Joel left one last kiss on the back of your neck before slowly pulling out, trying not to overstimulate you, with his cum spilling right after. “Oh, fuck,” you shivered.

You turned around and threw your arms over his shoulders as he pulled his jeans back up, sloppily pulling him in for a kiss, needing to feel his soft lips on yours. He obliged you for a few moments, before pulling back and grabbing something out of his back pocket.

Your panties.

“C’mon baby, let’s put these back on and head home.”

AAAAAAH finally published, i know it's past midnight now its a little late (not if we count the west coast tho hehe). but my second post (and my first joel fic)!! so excited to share this with you guys, i rlly hope u enjoy it!! please like and reblog (and leave plenty of comments) if u do. feel free to send requests/suggestions!! <333

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 9

Oh wow, a new chapter? Who'd have thunk it.

My posting schedule is all off and I honestly don't know if I can get it back under control. I have no idea when I'll get time to sit down and write and when inspiration will strike, so I can't assure weekly updates. But I'll try my hardest to get this story out! I have future chapters written, it's just that I have no way of connecting them right now :/ Oops.

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Ah shit, here we go again. Angst, arguments, jealousy

Word Count: 2,250

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4][Part 5][Part 6][Part 7][Part 8]

Some moments are easier than others. Sometimes you feel like you’re not pining like a love-sick teenager enough to think that you can actually do this – you can actually be friends with the man you love.

But then there are moments like tonight.

A few weeks have passed since community get-together, and you and Bucky are the new kids in town. Everyone drops by to say hello, leave you with enough food to last the winter, and invite you both back to their homes for dinner. It’s all very sweet, and you would appreciate the hospitality in any other situation.

But the amount of mothers trying to marry their daughters off to Bucky is insane. 

Several have not-so-subtley seated Bucky next to daughters of marriageable age, while everyone else is silently discouraged from interrupting their conversations. It skeezes you out when the girls are barely out of their teens, but most of the girls are around your age or older. Morality-wise, that’s a whole lot more appropriate. Internal monologue-wise, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh doesn’t even begin to cover it. What you feel whenever he laughs at something they say, or looks at them with his intense blue eyes – it hurts. That’s how he used to look at you, once upon a time. Like his life wouldn’t be the same without you in it, like you’re one of the most important people in his world.

To be fair to Bucky, you probably read waaaay more into it than he ever meant. And you only ever really saw that look come out when you were straddling his waist and grinding hard on his cock, skin mottled with his teeth marks and wearing his metal hand as a necklace. 

Stop, stop, stop, stop!

Anyway,

You’re usually placed next to older, widowed relatives, as most of the young men in the town have already settled down and popped out a few kids with their spouses except for Petre. Tessa foists the two of you together at every possible opportunity, hoping you’ll hit it off and decide to get married in the near future. 

Petre is nice, smart, cute, but not really your type. You’re convinced that you’ve only ever had one type and he’s off-limits. But Petre’s company is much more enjoyable than the sad, lonely older men they try to pair you with – it never feels great to be compared to someone’s long lost love – so you don’t mind having someone around your age to talk during these things.

Speaking of.

“It’s a nice night, yeah?” Petre comments. The night is warmer than expected, but you and Petre are still bundled up in your coats as you stroll through the dead copse of trees near the latest dinner party. The sun had set only minutes ago and the stars are making their presence known. There’s next to no light pollution in this area, so you always take the time to admire the night sky when you have the chance. 

You often take walks with Bucky up and down your street as a way to decompress after your shifts at the HYDRA facility. After the first week or so of being everyone’s errand-runner, they’ve slowly built up your workload to include calculations and deductions based on redacted data – it’s not as much information as you’d like, but it’s enough to build a foundational understanding of what the experiment was about.

You hum in agreement and continue walking. It’s about time to turn around and head back, but you can’t bring yourself to return only to watch Bucky flirt with the pretty girls that were also invited.  

“Is something the matter?” Petre asks you.

You startle out of your petty, jealous thoughts. “Hm? Oh, no. Nothing’s wrong,” you reply with a smile.

“It’s just that you seem very distracted tonight,” he responds.

With your hands in your pocket, the only thing you can do is shrug your shoulders. “Just tired, is all. It’s been a long week at the office.”

“Ah, I know the feeling,” Petre commiserates. 

All of the sudden, a wailing, piercing shriek ricochets between the tree trunks and reverberates in your ears. Tensing with adrenaline, you take two steps forward, ready to intervene in whatever events are unfolding in the darkness.

Before you get much further, Petre reaches out and takes hold of your elbow. Turning you around, he starts leading the way back. You try to tug your arm from his grip, but he holds firm.

“The cry of a vixen who is looking to mate. They’re rather vicious creatures this time of year, foxes. We don’t want to get in her way,” Petre deters.

“But…” you begin, looking back over your shoulders and watching for unexpected movement among the swaying branches. “It sounds so real.”

“Terrifying, really. I was just as concerned when they began, as well.” Petre gives you a tight smile and relaxes his grip slightly when you stop trying to pull away.

“What do you mean?” you question.

“What?” Petre’s eyes flash around quickly, looking through the woods that surround you.

“‘When they began’. What do you mean by that?”

“Ah,” Petre replies. “When mating season began.”

There’s no more discussion on the eerily accurate sound of a woman in distress. You can only trust that Petre would know the local fauna and their habits better than you, since you’ve never spent an extended period of time in areas such as this.

***

The neighbor’s house finally comes into view. A lone figure stands silhouetted against the porch as they lean against the railings, their arms braced against the banister and posture rigid. When you get closer, you realize that the figure is Bucky. 

You can’t see his face, but you can feel his eyes on you. And apparently Petre can as well.

“He doesn’t like me?” Petre asks.

“Why do you say that?” The question puzzles you because Bucky has no reason to dislike Petre. He’s been incredibly helpful so far, allowing you to ask as many questions as you want about himself and others and he doesn’t seem bothered by it at all. In fact, you feel as if you and Petre have become friends.

“It just seems like he’s never happy to see me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that – James just has RBF,” you reply nonchalantly.

“RBF?” Petre replies.

You laugh as you and Petre climb the stairs, only now realizing that he still has a hand on your arm. You’d forgotten all about it, but you miss the slight warmth that permeated through your jacket when he removes his touch. You turn to look at him, but Petre is looking away, his hands now deep in his pockets. Turning your focus onto Bucky, you see him watching Petre, his eyes squinted.

A large smile returns to your face as you reach up and grab Bucky’s chin, squishing his cheeks and making his lips pucker from the pressure. “This –” you say triumphantly, “is an RBF.”

Bucky glares down at you and swats your hand away. You cackle at the perfect example of Resting Bitch Face™ in front of you, throwing your head back in joy. When you right your posture again, you can see a small smile on Bucky’s face as he laughs along with you.

“Whatever,” he murmurs. He shakes his head in exasperation before circling his arm around your shoulders. Bucky begins dragging you back down the steps you had just ascended and you grunt in protest. “It’s time to go,” he says simply.

“Ugh, you’re so rude,” you say to him. Craning your neck as much as possible, you look back towards Petre who remains on the porch. “I’ll see you later!” you call backwards with a wave. Petre raises a hand in return, face hidden in shadow as Bucky’s had been.

Focusing back on the road in front of you, you can practically feel what little mirth Bucky had drains away. Looking up, you notice that his jaw is clenched and a hard look has entered his eye.

“What’s wrong?” Now you’re worried that something happened to Bucky while you were gone that has put him in a bad mood. Did someone say something to him? Did one of the women reject his advances? You can’t see who in their right mind would turn him down, but not everyone feels the same way about him as you do. But if it’s the latter, the guilt you feel only slightly outweighs the relief.

“You don’t think you’re spendin’ too much time with him?” Bucky says between clenched teeth.

A frown appears between your eyebrows as you continue to look up at him. “No?” you respond. “He doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Ofcoursehedoesn’t,” Bucky mutters under his breath, but you can still hear him.

You slide out from under Bucky’s hold, his agitation sparking flames of your own. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You don’t think you’re leadin’ him on a bit, Y/N?” Bucky asks you.

You scoff. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“You’re always hangin’ around him!” Bucky quips back. “You’re flirting with him and walking out of parties together. All these people, Petre included, are going to think you’re pitching for an engagement.”

The hurt and pitiful feelings from earlier tonight come flooding back. Only this time, instead of feeling them for what they are, you combine them with the anger his comment brings. How dare he accuse you of leading Petre on? As if he isn’t doing the same thing to all those girls?!

“And what about you?!” you yell, the last word ripping its way between your lips and setting your tongue ablaze. “You don’t think you’re stringing all these girls along behind you? You don’t have any intention of getting into a relationship with any of them, either, do you?” 

As the words escape, you remember how Bucky sat you down and asked for a friends-with-benefits situation. Said he wasn’t ready for a real relationship, but tired of one night stands. How the two of you could help each other out since you weren’t seeing anyone either. The old resentment towards yourself and how you let yourself fall for someone wholly unavailable whiplashes back into your mind after months of repressing it. 

If he could ask that of you, does that mean he’s asked someone else? You usually arrive home later than him, but on some occasions that you are released early, he’s not there. Instead of asking where he’s been, you had just let it slide since it could have been construed as possessiveness. Like your feelings – that Bucky believes to be long gone – entitle you to his life. You hadn’t wanted to risk anything at the time, but now your mind can’t help running wild at the possibilities.

“It’s not like I’m screwing his brains out every time we’re gone!” You shout at Bucky. You had been walking down the road away from the house party which was on a street with few homes, so there’s nobody around to hear your fight. “We’re not in the bathrooms having quickies, he’s not fucking me against a wall, or bending me over his motorcycle! He hasn’t proposed we fuck around with each other until someone better comes along!” 

Your chest heaves with the effort of expelling these vicious words from deep within your heart, and you can feel a burning beginning to creep behind your eyes. You hate getting angry – hate that any strong emotion makes your eyes well with tears and makes you look weak. And in this situation, you are weak – weak against Bucky, weak against yourself, weak against the knowledge that the one man you’ve ever loved never felt the same way and never will. Your inability to keep yourself from falling for someone you knew you could never have? Your jealousy that he is probably sleeping with one or more of the women in town? That makes you weak. 

And you can’t stand to be weak in front of Bucky again.

“Newsflash, Buck: I know how it feels to be lead on by you and it fucking sucks!” You lower your voice slightly and take another step away from him. “I know that wasn’t your intention, and I didn’t feel that way at first, but that’s how I feel now.”

“You were my best friend, Y/N – I didn’t want to lose that!” Bucky exclaims. “And I genuinely thought we were on the same page!” He takes a deep breath and clasps his hands over his eyes before saying, “And seeing you run off with Petre all the time just reminds me of us – how we’d always sneak away to get some time alone. It’s just –” He drops his hands and sighs heavily, looking up at the star-studded sky and then back down to you. “I’m jealous.”

“You’re jealous?” You ask incredulously. “Why?”

“Because –” You can tell that he’s struggling to get this out, and if he hadn’t started this argument and accused you of wronging Petre, you might have been more receptive to what he’s saying. More understanding. But right now, your anger swallows all empathy and hope that his words would usually supply. “Because that could have been us,” he breathes. Bucky takes a tentative step in your direction, but freezes solid at the icy glare you send his way.

“No,” you say flatly, “No, it couldn’t have. You made that abundantly clear when I asked.”

You turn your back on him and start running, ignoring the sound of your name as you leave Bucky behind.

Part 10

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[rachalixie]

lost and found

a/n: @isilentprincess hehehehehe

you’re standing at the intersection across from your apartment when you realize it - you don’t have your wallet. you pat at your pockets desperately, cursing when your hands come up empty. all of the blood in your body drains out and your face feels impossibly cold, and you have to grab onto the lightpost to keep from falling over.

your gaze trails over to the sidewalk you had just come from, in the direction of the cafe you frequented almost every afternoon. there’s no sign of it, the black leather and gold zipper is nowhere to be found. you follow down the path, eyes flickering back and forth on the pavement and you’re sure you look a little insane but you don’t really care. you have to move quickly, the daylight is burning out and looking for it during the night wouldn’t be easy. you bump into several people, muttering sorry’s and excuse me’s as you continue on your path to the cafe doors.

you hadn’t pulled out your wallet when you got your coffee earlier; you had proudly presented the punch card you had been saving that granted you a free drink and sandwich, the one you kept in the back of your phone case so you didn’t lose it. a bit ironic now, since you lost your entire wallet in the process.

you approach the counter after scanning the table you were just at, now inhabited by a couple holding hands across the table and making heart eyes at each other. they seem to engrossed in each other to be the types to steal someone’s wallet, so you focus your attention to the barista behind the register. 

“did someone drop off a wallet here?” you ask, desperation leaking into your voice. “i was just here, it hasn’t been long.”

“no, sorry,” the barista, hyunjin as his nametag says, smiles at you with a little bit of pity. “if you leave your number, i can let you know if someone does bring it up?”

you scribble your number down onto a napkin, handing it to him with hurried thank you, and exit the cafe while trying to keep your breaths even.

you kept a slip of paper in the wallet with your name and number, instructing the reader to call or text you if they had found it, but you don’t know the kind of person that may have picked it up. if someone even did, what if it fell down a drain somewhere? what if someone did find it and decided to grab the cash and toss it into the nearest trash can?

the thoughts follow you all throughout your short walk home, up the elevator and into your front door. you drop straight into bed, embarrassed tears burning at your eyes as you log into your bank apps to cancel your cards and order new ones. no new charges stand out in your balance, and you’re at least thankful for that. 

the cards were an easy replacement but the other things? the polaroids of you and your friends in the side slots, the gift card you’ve been saving for a rainy day? those can’t be replaced. it leaves you in some kind of helpless despair that stays with you even as you succumb to sleep.

you wake up comfortable, the warmth of your blankets and the sun peeking out through your blinds sending a smile onto your face, but you freeze when you remember what had happened yesterday. your wallet. 

you grasp your phone in your hand, ripping the charger out of it as you scroll through your notifications. various social media, texts from your mom, a friend request from someone you haven’t spoken to in years, and there - 

a voicemail from an unsaved number, left late last night. that’s different, that’s something that lights up hope inside of you. 

“hi?” a tentative voice sounds from your speaker when you press play. “i found your wallet. i think? it has your name and number in it, at least. i wanted to give it back, so um. call me back and we can arrange something? or text me. whichever is fine!”

it cuts off with a nervous laugh, and you stare at the voicemail page on your phone for a few blinks. this is almost too good to be true. 

you press the call button next to the number and wait with bated breath as the phone rings once, twice, three times and you almost hang up but he answers.

“hello?” he says, accent thick with sleep. you hadn’t realized how early in the morning it was.

“hi, this is y/n?” you say, realizing now that you didn’t think through what to say before calling him. “you called me about my wallet? sorry i called you so early, i just got your voicemail.”

“oh!” he says, rustling coming from his end. “yeah, i’m glad you called! i found it in my apartment lobby, park place?”

“i live there!” you sit up straight, slipping your feet into your slippers. “are you here now? i can come get it from you.”

“sure, that works,” he says, voice light. “im in 606, i can meet you by the elevator.”

“no way,” you say, disbelief coloring your voice as you make quick steps towards your door. “i live in 604. right next door.”

you open your door a moment before he does, giving you time to take him in. a mess of dark, curly hair on his head, tired eyes a bit puffy from having just woken up, toned arms hiding behind a baggy t-shirt.

fuck. he’s hot. this is your next-door neighbor? how did you miss seeing him this entire time?

“here,” he hands you your wallet and you take it in both of your hands, letting out a sigh of relief when you flop through it and see everything was intact and where it should be.

“thank you,” warmth lines your words and you hope he can feel how grateful you are. “i really appreciate it. can i buy you a coffee or something?”

“oh, it was no problem,” he smiles at you and, god help you. he’s so pretty. “and ah. i don’t really drink coffee?”

“oh,” you hope you don’t sound too disappointed. you wanted to thank him as much as you wanted to spend some time with him, to figure out of he was as pretty on the inside as he was on the outside. you might have been moving too fast, but the heart wants what it wants, and right now your heart was beating itself into a flurry in your chest.

“but there’s a place down the block that makes some really good drinks, if you want to do that?” he offers, looking you up and down, but before you could begin to feel self conscious about your pajamas and fluffy slippers he continues. “tonight?”

“pick me up at 8?” you send him a beaming smile that grows just a bit more when he returns it. 

losing your wallet wasn’t the worst thing, you guess.

[pensat-i-fet]

A not so soft launch (Pablo Gavi x Reader)

**@dohmeti suggested I could do a part 2 for Dealing with the enemy where both of them have to be on the red carpet and I thought it was a great idea. So after some brainstorming, this is what I came up with. This can be read on its own but reading part 1 definetely adds nice context for the characters. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for the love for part 1 ❤️**

Word count: 1342

Masterlist

Wattpad

"I'm going to follow you on Instagram".

"Why?"

"To kick start our soft launch".

"Our what?"

Your boyfriend's confusion was hilarious.

"A soft launch is when you leave hints on like social media to let people know we are together. And then we do the hard launch".

"Which is?"

"Posting together, Pablo. What else?"

You keep walking around the room, phone in hand, nervous about this moment. While he just lays down in bed not understanding what a big deal this is.

"It sounds like a lot of work".

"Says the guy who spends 90 minutes running around the pitch like a headless chicken. Liking a couple of posts won't be that tiring".

"But why can't we just say we are together?"

"Because that's not how things are done nowadays. We need to do this and maybe mention something in interviews if we are asked. That type of thing".

He shakes his head and keeps scrolling on his phone while you sit on the edge of the bed, index finger hovering over your phone screen.

"Imagine it's a handbag".

"What?"

"Instead of the follow button, imagine it's the buy button for one of those handbags you love so much. You don't hesitate to press that button…at all".

"I hate you".

He reaches to you to grab you by the waist and take you closer to him.

"It'll be fine when people know about us. Stop worrying".

"But what if I lose my Madrid season ticket? Imagine the scandal".

"I'll give you one for the better team. Swapping Madrid for Barça will be an even better decision than dating me".

"Never!"

You take the phone back and press follow.

"Done!"

"So proud of you, baby", he teases, kissing your head.

"Shouldn't you be happy? You were begging me to follow you on Instagram for ages".

"Until you said yes to my offer to be my girlfriend on the first attempt. That's much better than a follow. And I know you stalk my profile anyways".

"I do not stalk your Instagram".

"And my fan accounts".

"I don't even check those. Stop lying".

"How about that time I saw you watching a video from one of them?"

"It was recommended on my explore page, Gavira".

"The explore page that recommends similar content to the one you search…makes sense".

You get up, taking the clothes you had picked before.

"I'm going to take a shower and you're not invited to join me for being an annoying idiot".

"You still love me!"

"I might change my mind about that!"

                                      **

After your follow, several media outlets posted about why you would follow a Barça player on Instagram and most just assume you had your eye on him. Well, they weren't completely wrong.

There were also comments about it on Gavi's fan pages. You know, those ones you didn't check…while he was around and could see you doing it. They have great photos of him and you liked looking at them when you missed him. 

"Maybe you can comment something on my new photo".

"Like what?"

You go to your Instagram to find the photo you posted a couple of hours ago. It was a behind-the-scenes shot of your show.

"I got it", he says. But he doesn't let you look at what he is writing. 

A notification on your phone alerts you he had sent it and so you check it to see what he came up with.

Smart. Just a comment about work. It gets people talking without being too obvious.

"You're good at this. Ok, what should I answer?"

"How about the zipper emoji?"

"Wait. You're too good at this. I think I've found you a career for when you retire".

Throwback to when I got to celebrate my birthday on set with my absolute favourite humans!

Pablogavi: when is season 3 out?? I need it now!

Yourusername: 🤐🤐

"There are already comments from people who noticed our interaction. Perfect!", you said, pleased.

"What's next?"

“I have an interview tomorrow. I’ll suggest I might be seeing someone. And I’ll share my location too. So people can wonder why I spend so much time in Barcelona”.

He shakes his head, muttering. “So much work”.

                              **

"I've been invited to the movie premiere you are going to".

"Why?"

"I don't know", he shrugs. "I just have. I get invited to a lot of things but refuse to go. I don't want people to think I'm not focused on my career because they see me at parties".

"Makes sense", you say, cuddling to his side. "Why are you telling me about the invitation then?"

"I thought we could go together".

You think about it for a second and yes, it is a good idea. But it also feels too soon. You had only been doing the soft launch for two weeks. 

"I don't know…".

"Come on. It's perfect. We show up together on the red carpet and we don't need to do anything else".

"Can I think about it?"

He nods but you could tell he was unhappy you had refused. So you mentally proceed to do a list of pros and cons. 

"I don't think it's a good idea".

"Well", says Gavi, getting up and leaving you on the sofa alone. "I'm going anyway. The movie sounds fun".

Saying you feel bad would be an understatement but it is what feels like the right decision at the moment. 

                                 **

There had been some tension in the days prior to the premiere and Gavi uses your not wanting to be seen with him as an excuse to leave in a different car to the event. 

So when you get there, you see him already attending the press. He had gone through a couple of groups of journalists and now it is your time to be interviewed by them.

"Oh my God! You look stunning. Tell us who you are wearing tonight".

"Valentino. When I saw this dress at the fitting, I didn't need to see more".

Rehearsed answers are always a winner.

"Have you seen who's here at the premiere?"

"A lot of people, I would assume", you laugh nervously, knowing who they meant.

"Well, you see, we noticed you following Gavi on Instagram a couple of weeks ago and now he's here. Maybe you'll have a chat with him? Even if he is the enemy?"

"Maybe".

You move to the next groups of reporters and, of course, there are more questions about the footballer that was getting all the attention tonight.

Too much attention, if you were to be asked. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a group of women surrounding him. Their flirty giggles were so annoying. Could they be more obvious?

You try not to roll your eyes while you keep talking to the press.

But then, one of them really pushes her luck, offering her arm so your boyfriend can take her to the red carpet to pose with her. And he accepts her offer. Obviously, she doesn't know he has a girlfriend but what the heck?

While you wait your turn to go to the carpet, you see her getting closer to him. And then…she kisses his cheek when the photographers asked her to do it!

"Oh no she didn't!"

You walk to where they are posing and when Gavi sees it is you approaching them, he starts to smirk. 

"Excuse me", you tell the girl who is still holding onto his arm. "That's my boyfriend so I would appreciate it if you stopped touching him".

She looks at you, shocked, and does as you told her.

“I think you scared her”.

“Good!”

"But what are you doing here? I thought you didn't want anyone seeing us together".

"Oh shut up!"

You grab his face with your hands and kiss him, causing all photographers to move to where you two are standing so they can get the best photo. 

Gavi immediately grabs your waist and deepens the kiss. His plan to make you jealous had worked perfectly.

"There is your hard launch".

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Advice from a stranger

PAIRING | Sebastian Stan x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.3K

SUMMARY | You've been on Tumblr for several years and have gathered a large following who often come to you for different advice. When Sebastian joins Tumblr and finds your blog, he can't help but ask for advice, too, and the two of you meet one day, which is a huge surprise for you.

WARNING(S) | None.

REQUEST | @formyexperiments | Sebastian Stan x reader where they both encounter each other online (Tumblr) for a random advice from a stranger, Seb does not reveal who he is but he asks for different types of advice from reader which reader is able to give and they eventually meet each other but only Seb knows her as she sent him a pic

A/N | Thank you so much for this fun request! It was a hoot to work on this one. And for those who are interested, there is a recommendation at the bottom of this fic that you should definitely check out if you enjoyed this! 🖤

A/N 2.0 | In this fic you might see 'Y/U' a couple of times, which stands for 'Your Username'. Seb will be adressed as 'Seb' or Sebastian throughout the fic.

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ only banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Sebastian Stan Masterlist

Sebastian got home from another long day at a film set and went straight to his shower to relieve himself of some tension that was building up in his shoulders. The hot water running along his neck, shoulders, and back always makes him feel calmer.

When he's done and dried off, he slips into a pair of joggers and an old t-shirt before walking to his kitchen and grabbing some dinner he prepped earlier this week.

With a sigh, he sits on the couch and eats his dinner while watching a Netflix show that's been on his watch list for too long, but he can't seem to focus on it, so he starts scrolling through his social media instead.

When he's scrolling through Instagram, he suddenly sees some fan art he's tagged in, and his interest is immediately piqued, so he goes to check it out and sees that there is more on this website called 'Tumblr.'

This could be fun to check out, he thinks to himself, and he gets up to grab his laptop, ready to step into the world of Tumblr that is unfolding right in front of his very eyes.

The account is made quickly, and he looks up the account that he saw his earlier artwork on, and he quickly gets lost in all of their works, not only of himself and his characters but lots of other people and their characters.

After deciding to follow the account, he scrolls some more through Tumblr and suddenly spots a post called ''Advice from a stranger | Masterpost. His curiosity won this time, so he clicked on it.

He sees many links to different sorts of advice ranging from making friends and advice about love/relationships to how to find a job and everything in between.

After reading through some of them, he realizes the advice you give out is good, so he decides to give it a whirl and ask you for some as well, something pretty simple to begin with.

''How to make friends on Tumblr''.

He makes a quick request and decides not to send it anonymously; there are tons of people with a similar username, so there's no use in that he decides.

Not even an hour later, he gets a notification that you have answered his advice, and once again, it's pretty good advice.

Hi!

First, welcome to Tumblr; seeing you have found us is good. 😉

To make friends here, reblogging posts are always a good place to start. This could be fanfiction, fanart, or all other sorts of posts! Although people don't mind you liking their posts, a reblog helps them out because it spreads their posts to more people on this platform!

Another trick is to react to people's posts since you also end up on people's radars. And usually, one thing leads to another, and you become mutual here! (A mutual is when you both follow one another 😁)

If you ever need a different kind of advice, please look on the master post, and if you can not find it there, don't hesitate to ask again 🖤

Sebastian reads it several times and takes your advice to heart, reblogging and commenting on people's posts, but mainly your advice.

Telling you how he related to that piece of advice, asking you for more advice, all that sort of thing, and you noticed him slipping into your activity tab more and more.

It started with more and more reblogs and comments under your advice, sometimes giving some of his own in response as well, and that turned into him helping you make up some advice now and again.

In the meantime, almost a year has passed, and Sebastian has gotten pretty close to you via private messages, though he never told you everything. Though you didn't mind, you devised a plan one day.

Y/U | You live in New York, right? I'm going there in a few weeks for a work trip! If you want to, I would like to meet up, and we can think of some advice in person if you're up for it.

Seb | Hm, I'd love to meet up; when will you be in New York? Because I'll be away for work soon!

Y/U | I'll be there in 3 weeks and staying for a week. Will you be available then?

After Sebastian confirms he is available that week, the two of you make all sorts of plans from where the two of you will meet, what you will do, and all that good stuff.

There's only one small problem: he knows what you look like, but you don't know it's the Sebastian Stan you've been talking to and getting to know all this time so that it will be a great surprise.

The two of you have openly talked about how you're such a big fan of his, and even though he felt weird about it, he quickly got used to it and even told you some secrets, not many people know.

You're in New York for your work trip, and the last few days are your free time, and you're meeting up with Sebastian today. The weather is very nice for the time of the year, and you've opted to wear a White and blue striped sundress combined with white sneakers.

Sebastian told you about a coffee shop near Central Park, so that's where you're waiting, your laptop safely in your backpack, a steaming cup of tea in front of you as you wait for Sebastian. You told him you would be there earlier and sent him a photo so he knew how to look for it, and his heart skipped a few beats as he saw the picture.

He opted for a floral shirt, leather jacket, and dark jeans to stand out only a little. He doesn't like that, but he spends an extra few minutes in front of the mirror to ensure everything looks perfect for you.

So now you're waiting for a mystery man, all you know is his name and that he's good at giving advice, but other than that, you won't know who you're waiting for.

Suddenly you're pulled from your thoughts as the bell of the coffee shop rings, and none other than Sebastian Stan walks through it. Your jaw drops slightly, and you feel yourself staring at your celebrity crush.

What are the odds that he would be in the same coffee shop as you?! Well, those odds are more significant than you could ever have thought because he's walking over to you with a smile.

''Y/N?'' he asks, and you feel like you're in a dream. One where he knows you exist, but that's when the realization hits you. You've been talking to your celebrity crush for almost a year and never knew.

''S-Sebastian?'' you ask as you get up, unsure if you should hug him or shake his hand, but he spreads his arms to pull you in for a hug, which you gladly accept.

''I-I can't believe it! I've been talking to you this entire time. I have given you advice... On multiple occasions... This feels unreal,'' you say with a nervous chuckle, but he tells you it's all true. It's been him this entire time.

The two of you sit down, and after you've gotten over your initial shock, you hit it off and spend a few hours in the coffee shop talking and writing advice until you have to leave for a dinner reservation with your colleagues.

''I know I'm not exactly in the position to ask for favors, but could you do me a small one by taking a selfie together?'' you ask, and Sebastian agrees.

When you leave the shop, he goes with you and walks you to the restaurant for your dinner reservation, which is pretty close, and when you finally say goodbye, you give each other a big hug.

Sometimes, the universe rewards good behavior, and that is nothing short of true for you.

I want to give a small shout-out to @imyourbratzdoll and the amazing fic she wrote called a tumblr obsession (NSFW). If you liked my work, please make sure to check out her fic as well, it is totally worth it! 💚

[genevawren38]

I am just going to put this at the top : this post is going to be a long vent about missing Technoblade, please scroll on if you do not wish to read.

We are coming up on two years without him.

We are also coming up on three years since I discovered his content.

I thought I was at the point I could watch one of his videos tonight, as I used to often do when I am doing tasks or writing he was always the background noise I used. I remember calling into work when he streamed for the sheer sake of enjoying them while they happened the few times I caught them before...well. I think you know. He was the reason my passion for writing came back to life and I believed I could actually follow my lifelong dream of eventually publishing a story.

But I suppose the part I always forget about grief is the absence of the unique spirit that person brought to your life. I found his content and engaged with it instantly, developing one of the longest running fixations I have had in a good while. The sheer excitement I'd have getting the notification he went live for one of his rare streams.

I don't think it truly sunk in when he announced his diagnosis. I remember discussing it with the irl friend who got me into watching him and both of us laughed, saying he's strong enough to fight off anything.

A few months pass with his rare posts and there was always this tiny little bit of intuition I had where he never told us what severity of cancer it was. Like he was a very private guy, yes, but this seemed extra...odd.

Then I remember the way my heart sunk when 'so long nerds' popped into my notification bar. The dashing of my heart against the floor texting people as I tearfully listened to Technodad tell us the words his son Alex wished for us to hear.

Its been a long two years. Its been great ones, tbh. I found a new passion with QSMP and Hermitcraft after the finishing of DSMP [tho c!Techno will forever remain close to my heart]. I kept writing, with over half a million words in published fics on ao3 and several WIP including 3 original novels.

But the only one I ever wanted to thank for helping me find my creativity again I can't, and I never will be able to.

I miss Technoblade.

I will never stop missing him.

I wish he could have laughed with his friends for many years yet, being silently proud of their accomplishments while he messed with people on the QSMP. I wish he could have had another MCC with friends.

I wish his unique soul wasn't taken from us so soon, as we weren't done following our hero yet.

But the only thing I can do now is continue to speak his tales. The first book I properly publish, the gratitude page is going to be addressed to him. I will continue to tell others about his accomplishments and tell them to go watch his content on his Youtube channel [get him to 17 million!]! Buy some of his merch [when it comes back in stock]! Support his family & friends!

Though he would call us nerds for crying, I think its beautiful how many lives he touched and how many thousands mourned his passing. He was a light all corners of the MCYT sphere and beyond saw and respected, and not too many creators can claim such an honour.

I'll always be a Voice at my core. Even if I spend my time these days as a crow, a huevito, a ferret, a tubling, a doozer and many more, my heart will forever belong to Technoblade.

Please keep creating art and writing in his name. I love scrolling the fanart tags and adore every piece I come across with my favourite piglin in them. Please, please, please keep saying his name. Sing his legends. Make references, continue the jokes, hang out in one of his friends chats and support the people he loved.

Support those who are still here, even if your heart hurts.

It's only painful because we all loved him so much, which is a beautiful type of sorrow.

[pretty-idol-hell]

Idol Land PriPara Promise guide for beginners!

(Updated March 2024.)

Here's that updated Promise Guide I said I'd work on. Apologies, this was more complicated than I thought and I hope it's understandable enough. Tumblr only lets you upload 10 images per post.

So, let's head to the Promise Counter!

(Click the "Promise" building behind your character.

Joining an Existing Promise

Here you will see several different promises that have already been created. They are color coded as follows:

Blue: Official promises with the anime characters

Pink: iine up (for faster rank up)

Silver: silver idollars up

Gold: premium (after the promise you will be taken to a Premium Shop where you can purchase exclusive coords)

Also you will see either a microphone or camera icon to the left which will let you know if it is a live or photoshoot (pasharing).

Promises with the anime characters will always be at the top, followed by promises with other peoples' characters below.

To join a promise, click on it and click the pink 参加する button. If the button is greyed out, it means there is some sort of requirement that is not fulfilled and you can't join (you don't own the required coord, etc).

Then click はい.

If the promise is ready to be played, the following pop-up is displayed. Click すぐに実施 to play the promise right away, or とじる to play it later.

If the pop-up does not appear, it means the promise cannot be played yet because not enough members have joined.

When enough members have joined, you'll get this notification (参加できるプロミスがあります) in the bottom left of your home screen.

And you can see which promise(s) are ready to play in the プロミス section of the Kuma menu. (The ones with the X to the right are still unavailable.)

Creating Your Own Promise

So, back to the Promise Counter. Look up in the top right you'll see two pink buttons. The left one (コーデ変更) is Coord Change, and the right one (プロミス作成) is Create a Promise.

Clicking on Create a Promise brings up this screen. I'll go left to right, top to bottom...

ジャンル(Genre): Here you can choose between live (ライブ) and photoshoot (パシャリング). The default is live. プロミス名 (Promise Name): Here you can change the name of your Promise. The default is "(name)'s Promise" コメント（Comment): Here is where you can enter a description for your promise. The default is "Let's dance!" or "Let's take photos together!" 内容 (Content): Here is where you choose the song (or location and poses for photoshoot) 条件 (Conditions): This is where you choose which type of promise, and what you require for your teammates, etc. There are two sections here, チーム条件 (Team Requirements) and ドレスコード (Dress Code) チーム条件 (Team Requirements)

When you click this, two options come up. いますぐ (Instant, lit: Right Now): If you pick this, you will play the promise right away and the members who join you will be sent some iine/silver idollars in their login bonus the next day. こだわり (Free to Join or Open): If you pick this, you will have to wait for others to join. But all of you will get to participate in the promise and the rewards will be higher (especially for you).

Choosing いますぐ (Instant) gives you the following options:

おまかせ (Up to You): This will pick two (or three if it's a photoshoot) random members which may or may not be from your friends list. Note: This (いますぐ、おまかせ) is the default option if you don't touch this conditions box at all when making a promise.

皆のマイチャラ (Everyone's Characters): This will allow you to choose other people's characters. Your friends will be at the top and some randos at the bottom. 好きなアイドル (Favorite Idols): This will allow you to play with the anime characters. It costs 200 silver idollars to select them.

Choosing こだわり (Free to Join or Open) gives you the following options:

だれでも (Anyone): The promise will appear on the Promise Board, free for anyone to join.

トモダチ (Friends): You can select anyone from your friends list. Please note that your friends will not be automatically added into the promise. They will have to see it on the Promise Board and decide to join by themselves. It is very possible to make a promise that your friend cannot join because they don't have the coord you require, etc.

Now, let's go back to the final area in the bottom right, ドレスコード (Dress Code).

To the left it says トップスを反映 (Reflect Top). The impact of this will change depending on what type of promise you have chosen.

For いますぐ (Instant), any characters you have picked to join you will be wearing the same top as you even if they do not own it. This does not change the anime characters however, regardless if you select it or not (although selecting it will give you more points anyway). For こだわり (Free to Join), you are requiring anyone joining you to own this top before they can join your live. This means if the top you've chosen is particularly rare or unpopular, your promise may not be filled. However, getting a promise with a PR or PPR top filled will give you some of the highest possible scores, especially if you have five gold tags. Speaking of which...

And finally, to the right we have 推薦ハッシュタグ (Recommended Hashtags). The intent of this section, I assume, was to recommend certain coords to users who want to join your live. But it's broken and nobody uses it for that. Click on this and select five gold hashtags no matter what they say or what kind of promise you are creating and you will get free points.

Okay, once your dress code and hashtags are all set, just select 決定 and you are done!

Once again, if you have chosen an Instant promise you will have the option to start right away, and if you have chosen a Free to Join promise you will have to wait until you see the notification that it is filled.

If not enough people join your promise within 24 hours it will be cancelled and your promise ticket will be returned to your present box.

[jasntodds]

Caving In [14]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 7,539

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, depression (canon, Jason), the roof scene is in this chapter and reader is the one who finds him so, the Titans being assholes, mentions of a burn

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: So, I finished writing the rest of this book and have started the next one which I also have had almost entirely plotted out this whole time and I’m excited lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary​ and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

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As the morning goes by, you and Gar spend most of it in the living room. You ate your breakfast together, far earlier than ever intended but it was kind of nice because it was just the two of you. The rest of the Titans were still asleep and Jason only came by to pluck a pancake off of your plate before going back to his room. You and Gar do spend enough time alone but not having anyone else up, besides Jason, is really nice. You just get to be around each other without knowing that someone is going to interrupt or you'll have some type of training session to get to. It's nice and comforting.

One by one, the Titans get up, Dick being the first one and he's surprised to see the two of you awake and in the living room so early, especially you. You’re not an early riser. He doesn't ask questions though and hopes it's because you had trouble sleeping and not because you and/or Jason were up to something that Gar had to talk you out of. He just lets you be while you and Gar have a rewatch of The Walking Dead.

"I'd totally survive the apocalypse." You let out a sigh as you turn on the fifth episode.

Gar lets out a laugh beside you. "You could survive anything at this point."

"Right? Probably don't even have to try." You turn to face Gar. "Okay, if the apocalypse happens," You start and Gar raises his brows at you, intrigued where this is going. "Do you think it'll be like Walking Dead, Zombieland, The Last Of Us, or Love and Monsters?"

Gar lets out a breath, looking to the ceiling before looking back to you. He's definitely thought about this. "Walking Dead or The Last Of Us, both of those seem realistic."

You let out a booming laugh. "True! That would be the most likely scenario, even in a world with metahumans."

"It's also better than Zombieland zombies that can run."

"I know! That makes the whole thing a bit more terrifying." You shake your head. "But, I hope we end up with Love and Monsters because I mean, giant animals."

"That would be ideal." Gar gestures towards himself.

"A green tiger would be very normal."

"Exactly!"

Your laughter subsides and you fall into a comfortable silence. Gar resituates and guilt eats away at your bones. He winces when he moves and you figure it's because his side hurts. You swear you'll be apologizing for it every single day until you both die. You’re very grateful for him though because he is very understanding of it. You think most people would have dropped you, wanted nothing to do with you, and wouldn't trust you anymore. But, not Gar. You’ve already apologized several times since it happened and Gar has been telling you that it's okay and he's okay with a kind smile. You’ve said it before and you'll probably always think it, Gar is unfathomably kind.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, guilt coating your words.

"I'm positive." Gar chuckles softly. "I'm fine."

You nod softly. "I'm still really fucking sorry."

"It's okay." Gar urges you before taking a drink of the Gatorade. "It was an accident."

"I know." You let out a sigh. "But, I'll probably be trying to make it up to you for...the rest of our lives." You laugh softly.

"You don't have to. Rachel nearly took my hand off and I'm fine."

"She...what?" You pause.

Rachel even accidentally attacking Jason makes sense. Jason pushes her buttons more than anyone so if she were going to snap, it would be on Jason. But Gar? What could Gar have possibly done?

"Yeah, I woke her up when you guys got kidnapped. Her cloud of razor blades attacked me."

"Okay, that's not fair. How are you the one getting hurt by us?" You groan. "I'm really sorry and I'm sorry I didn't know."

You were a little preoccupied with being kidnapped and tortured and then nearly dying and nearly losing Jason. You not noticing is excusable but that doesn’t stop you from feeling guilty about it. Gar was still hurt and you should have noticed. Gar would have noticed if the roles were reversed.

"You were kidnapped and then dropped from a skyscraper. I think not knowing is acceptable." Gar chuckles.

"Yeah, that's true." You shrug a shoulder. "Still, I'm sorry." You scrunch your nose. "So, whatever you need, let me know and I will get the thing." You declare, your voice confident.

"You're not gonna budge on that, are you?"

"Nope." You let out a laugh.

Your conversation gets interrupted by an alert coming from the intercom system. The two of you look at each other with confused expressions before getting up to see who's at the door. Everyone you both know is already at the tower, besides Dick, he left out of nowhere, but he doesn't need the intercom system to come up.

When Gar hits the button for the video and sound feeds on the intercom, you both see a woman with strawberry blonde hair looking a little panicked.

“My name is Eve Watson and I’m looking for someone who I think might be here.” She says, voice panicky and rushed.

You give Gar a shrug as he looks to you.

“Maybe you should go get Kory.” Gar whispers and you nod before running off to get Kory.

Someone showing up, in general, seems a little weird. You’ve been at the tower for three months and no one besides Uber Eats drivers ever show up at the tower. But, somehow this random woman knew you had weird flying guy? That seems a little off.

You find Kory in the room with the mystery guy, talking with him while he’s still unconscious.

“Uh…Kory?”

“Hmm?” Kory looks over to you. “What’s going on?”

“There’s some woman here?” You question. “Gar is talking to her through the intercom. She says her name is Eve Watson and she thinks she’s looking for someone here.” You look from Kory to the mystery guy before looking back to Kory.

“Okay.” Kory nods carefully as she gets up. “Let’s go then.”

Kory and you make your way back down the hall and back to Gar.

“Is there someone named Conner there?” You and Kory hear Eve say through the intercom just as you approach.

“Let her up.” Kory says and Gar takes a second look at Kory, almost to be unsure about it but he does as told.

The woman comes up through the elevator, Gar, you, and Kory waiting for her to come up. When she does, she has a white dog with pointy ears walking beside her. It’s in that moment, you trust her.

You’ve always wanted a dog but your mom would never let you get one. They’re a big responsibility and you didn’t have a lot of money. With your mom being a vet, it always seemed strange you didn’t have a pet. You understood the reasoning but it did not stop you from asking every birthday for a dog. But, now, there is a dog right in front of you and you haven’t been able to pet a dog since you were uprooted from Gotham. This is the best thing that’s happened in two weeks.

“She has a dog.” You whisper to Gar.

Gar chuckles softly. “She said the dog lead her here?”

“Oh, so a smart dog.” You smile almost visibility vibrating next to him.

“Are you okay?”

“Love dogs.”

“You think we have Conner?” Kory asks.

“It sounds crazy, but the dog led me here.” Eve explains. “Tall, dark hair, looks like Superman.” Even lets out a sigh.

“Come with me.” Kory jerks her head towards the hallway.

Your smile falls as you watch the dog follow the women down the hallway and Gar lets out a laugh.

“Why don’t you go with them? I was gonna take a nap anyway.” 

“Are you sure? We could finish--”

“Go see if you can pet the dog.” Gar continues to laugh. “I’ll catch up later, wake me up before they leave though. I also want to meet the dog.” Gar beams and you laughs, nodding quickly before darting down the hallway.

You follow the women to Conner’s room, Kory noticing you. Kory doesn’t say anything though, figuring maybe you want to offer some help. After what happened with Deathstroke, Kory is willing to let you hang around for right now if you want to help. While Kory agrees that allowing any of the new Titans to go after Dr. Light would have been a bad idea, you sympathizes with you and Jason.

You reach the room and Eve sits down on the bed beside the mystery guy who’s still unconscious. The dog sits on the floor beside Eve and while the women talk, you stick your hand out for the dog to sniff you. The dog doesn’t seem bothered so you sit on the floor and cautiously pet his head. A giant smile plasters itself across your face as you pet the dog, now listening to the women talk about how Eve created Conner and how he ended up here. She goes on about how he’s going to die unless they can bring the sun directly to Conner. But, this is Kory. So, she has an idea and goes off to grab Rachel.

“So, you like….created him?” You ask, still petting the dog.

“Yeah.” Eve lets out a sigh.

“That’s pretty cool.” You state.

“It’s dangerous.”

“Yeah,” You sigh. “Having powers in a world like this seems to be. But, like, he’s half Superman and Kory will fix him so…pretty cool.” You nod your head. “What’s his name?”

“The dog?” Eve asks and you nods excitedly. “Krypto.”

“Krypto.” You smile looking at the dog. “I love dogs. Is it okay that I’m petting him? He didn’t seem to mind and you were talking.”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Eve laughs softly.

“Hey, uh, you know, Conner saved my best friend.” You explain.

“He did? How?”

You shrug. “Dunno, exactly, I was dangling for my life but from what I’ve heard firsthand and what everyone else said, my friend was falling from a fifteen-story skyscraper and Conner came out of nowhere, jumped on a car and caught him mid-air.” Eve watches you carefully. “Look, I’m just saying you feel guilty and shit but had you found him earlier, it’s possible my friend would have died so I don’t think you should feel guilty about it.”

“He could die and that’s my fault. I created him and didn’t help enough.”

“No, you said that you helped him escape. They were gonna use him as a weapon, probably. You helped him and Kory is gonna save him. She’s a badass, trust me. So, you did good.” You offer her a kind smile.

“Thank you.” Eve says softly before looking back to Conner.

After a few minutes, Kory comes back with Rachel and she directs you, Eve, and Krypto to wait outside of the room. You sit right back down with Krypto, petting him while Kory gets Conner out of the bed and holds him up. She warns you it might get a little bit warm before asking Rachel if she’s ready. Rachel is a little uncertain and so are you.

Rachel has a hard time controlling her powers and you don’t really know why Kory trusts her so much to keep them in check right now. But, you trust Kory so there has to be a reason. Rachel uses her powers and her black and purple smoke surrounds Kory and Conner while Kory turns into a ball of fire. Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you watch.

“What…the…fuck.” You mutter and Eve has the same expression. “Sick.” You’re awestruck look turns into one of amazement and a giant smile comes to your face.

When Rachel brings her power back in, Kory stops and Conner is awake again. This definitely goes down in one of the coolest things you’ve ever witnessed and you find yourself having a little more respect for Rachel. Rachel always spoke so highly of Kory and maybe this is one of the reasons. Kory believes in Rachel enough to trust her to use her powers and not kill her. Not that you think Rachel could but it’s the trust that’s there and maybe that’s the whole issue with the tower right now. You, Gar, and Jason trust each other. But, Jason and you don’t trust Dick very much. Rachel doesn’t trust Jason and you think she doesn’t trust you very much because of your close proximity to Jason. The only person everyone collectively trusts is Gar but that doesn’t make for a very good team and you wonders if the Titans will ever work because of that.

Kory, Rachel, and you leave Eve, Conner, and Krypto to themselves, going your separate ways so they can talk. You head towards Gar’s room to tell him what just happened but his door is still shut and you know if he were awake, the door would be open. After last night, you do not want to wake him up so, you head two doors down to Jason’s room. You knock but then open the door, finding Jason standing in front of his windows, just looking out.

“Jay?” You call but he doesn’t even move. You walk beside him, looking from his eyes to the windows and then back to him. “Jason?” You wave your hand in front of his face and that seems to break him out f his trance.

“Fuck, yeah?” Jason jumps, spinning to you.

“You alright?” You ask, brows furrowed and the excitement you just felt vanishes and you worry about your best friend again.

“Yeah, what?” Jason snips and you narrows your eyes.

“You were just standing here…looking at the window?”

“You got a problem with that or something?” Jason snips again.

“Oh, snippy today.” You roll your eyes and walk over to one of his chairs, Jason shaking his head in confusion.

“Sure, make yourself comfortable.”

“I usually do.” You chortle. “Wanna know what just happened?” You ask, dropping the conversation about him because he doesn’t want to talk about it and you’re not gonna push him. Not today because maybe you owe him that much for last night.

Jason sighs and turns to face you. “Sure?”

“So, some woman shows up because of the guy that saved you and turns out, dude is named Conner and he is half fucking Superman and Lex Luther.” Your eyes nearly bug out of your head and Jason’s eyes widen.

“You’re fucking lying.”

“I could not make this shit up!” You exclaim. “So, she shows up and she’s got this dog with her who’s really cute. I got to pet him.” You beam and Jason finds it cute that you got sidetracked by the dog not the whole Superman and Lex Luthor thing. “So, in order to wake up Conner, Kory grabbed Rachel and turned into a ball of fire while holding Conner and Rachel used her powers to like keep it contained.” You ramble. “I know you don’t like Rachel or her powers but dude, it was the coolest shit I have ever seen.” You beam. “And Conner’s awake. Like, it worked.”

“He’s awake? From that?”

“Yeah, I guess it was something with kryptonite, that’s what he was shot with.” You explain.

“That’s…”

“Sick, right?” You ask.

“Yeah, that’s fucking sick. So, a ball of fire just wakes him up from a coma?”

“Guess so.” You laugh. “And there’s a dog.”

“You said that.” Jason chortles. “Didn’t realize you were a dog person?”

“Do I seem like a cat person to you?” You quip.

Jason laughs. “You're into Gar who turns into a fucking tiger.”

You pause before narrowing your eyes. "Yeah, but that's different. Tigers are not house cats." You hold your up and Jason shake his head at you. “So, it was super cool and I had to tell someone about it.”

“Gar not wanting to listen?” Jason quips.

“He’s napping, after last night I figured I’d let him nap.” You explain.

Jason nods just once. “How’d it go? After I left my own fucking room for you guys.”

Jason mostly asks because he wants to know if you both actually talked about your feelings or if you backed out of it. He figured Gar wouldn’t but he thought maybe you would. You didn’t seem too confident in your answer to Jason last night. You back out of a lot of the games you two play so he thought maybe you’d back out of telling Gar. He doesn’t hope for that though.

“Uh..." You furrow your brows. "It went, I guess. He's not mad at me or anything. He's being understanding, ya know?” You smile shyly.

"Did you tell him?" Jason asks, more or less digging for answers.

You pause for just a second, thinking about playing the game. But, then you think about how that would be unfair. You both made your decisions.

"No..." You let out a scoff. "It did not seem like the right time and..." You shrug, hiding more of the reason because you’d not about to tell Jason the reason you didn't tell Gar is because you like him. "I don't want him to feel obligated to tell me the same thing because I said it. I'll tell him eventually." You shrug it off and turn the question back to him. “You’ve been hanging out with Rose a lot…?” You question.

Jason gains a goofy grin. “She kissed me last night.” Jason announces.

“She what?” You nearly yell and you can feel the burning start in the very pit of your stomach. Definitely not jealousy.

Jason shrugs. “Yeah,” He has this cocky smile as he licks his lips.

You don’t need to know that Rose kissed him and then Jason put a stop to it like how he did with you last week. You don’t need to know that little bit of information.

“You really like her?” You ask, the slightest bit of snark in your voice that Jason absolutely catches.

Jason shrugs again. “Think so.” Jason laughs softly because he can’t have you. But, he likes Rose enough. He could like her more if he gave her a fair shot. Rose is different. Jason can’t break or hurt her. Deathstroke took care of that. And Gar isn’t into Rose.

“Good, I hope she makes you happy. She’s pretty cool.” Your words taste sour on your tongue but you swallow your pride anyway. You do want him to be happy. Jason deserves to be happy.

“Yeah, thanks.” Jason chuckles softly. “She got mad though, like right after.”

“What, why? You’re not that bad of a kisser.” You tease him, trying your best to brush it off.

“Shut the fuck up.” Jason groans, but there's still a hint of his cocky grin pulling at his lips. “I borrowed Dick’s records, he had one with her brother’s name on it. She freaked out on me.” The smirk falls as he shakes his head, brows knitted together.

“That’s weird.” Your brows furrow. “Have you talked to her about it?”

“Told her I didn’t know about it, think we’re alright now. But I didn’t even know she had a brother.”

“Seems getting information out of her is like getting information out you. Pulling teeth.” You chuckle softly. “I don’t know that is weird though.”

“Yeah.” Jason lets out a sigh but before either of you can continue the conversation, Rachel comes barging in.

Rachel storms right up to Jason and starts yelling. “How fucked up are you?” She yells, your eyes widen. “All you do is give people a reason to hate you!”

Jason just stares at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The crosses on my mirror!”

“Still don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Jason’s voice is flat but Rachel doesn’t believe him.

Her eyes turn red as she shoves his shoulder. “Don’t fucking lie to me!” Her voice is lower and freaky with the shove.

“What the fuck?” You jump up from your seat on his chair, moving to stand in between them. "Leave him alone." You grit your teeth and you don't want to do this today. Why is she even blaming Jason?

Jason pauses for a second. He's not going to stand here and be blamed for something he didn't even do. He's been in his room since he got done training two hours ago. “I’m sick of this shit.” Jason mutters, grabbing his jacket and storming out of the room.

“Literally, what the fuck, Rachel?” You stare at her, fists balled at your sides but just for a second before you follow Jason, Rachel right behind you.

You’re questioning the universe right about now. You desperately want to know why either of you can’t seem to catch a fucking break. Seriously, what could either of you have possibly done to piss the universe off so badly? Especially Jason. He actually hasn’t done a single thing and yet he keeps getting dealt these hands and now Rachel is jumping down his throat. It’s ridiculous.

You and Rachel follow Jason into the living area where Dawn, Hank, and Kory are.

“Don’t fucking walk away from me!” Rachel screams past you.

“SHUT UP!” You scream, trying to catch up to Jason.

“Woah, hey, what’s happening?” Dawn asks from her seat at the snack bar.

“Jason drew crucifixes all over my mirror!” Rachel points her finger at Jason standing ten feet away from him while you’re smack in the middle as you all come to a halt.

“Bullshit!” Jason looks at Rachel.

“Jason, it’s okay if you’re angry.” Dawn says as she approaches the three of you.

“I didn’t do shit, okay?” Jason’s voice sounds desperate this time. “Look, don’t blame me for her voodoo issues.” Jason says as Donna walks in from behind him.

“What’s up with all the drama?” Donna asks as she stands next to Dawn.

“Someone drew crosses on Rachel’s mirror and she thinks Jason did it.” Dawn explains keeping her voice kind and calm as usual.

“I know he did it.” Rachel declares.

“No, he didn’t, Rachel!” You interject. “You’ve just got fucking problems with him so you’re first fucking response is to blame him.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“Cute idea with the Bourbon bottle.” Hank starts, making his way towards the older women. “Not my type though. I’m more of a Sour Mash guy.” Hanks says, this time Jason and you looking at him with confusion having no idea what he’s even talking about. “You ever go into my room and pull that shit again, I’ll forget what team you’re on.”

“Why Jason?” Donna asks.

You let out a huff. You can’t believe you’re listening to them blame him for absolutely no reason. And when you look to Jason, he looks completely heartbroken and devastated. He has no idea what they’re even talking about. You don't think you'll forgive any of them for the look on Jason's face right now. And the fact none of them even see it, makes the whole thing that much worse.

“I don’t know what happened, guys but I-I didn’t do it.” Jason says, his voice defeated. You’ve never heard him stutter before.

“What about the picture of Elis?” Dawn asks.

“The orange soda bottle?” Donna asks, everyone pointing fingers at Jason.

“He did it to you guys, too?” Rachel asks.

“Fuck this.” Jason huffs, ready to leave the conversation.

“Hey,” Hank yells. “We’re not done here, kid.”

“You people are insane!” Jason yells, his eyes turning glossy. “I’d rather be with Deathstroke than you assholes.” Jason pauses and you can see his heart literally breaking. “You guys think everything is my fault.”

There it is. He can’t do it anymore. Even though he didn’t do anything, it’s still somehow his fault. He didn’t mean for the Deathstroke thing to happen. It was an accident and he’s the one that suffering the consequences but they’re all blaming him. They’re blaming him for this stuff he doesn’t even understand. What would an orange pop have to do with anything? The Titans have been on edge this whole time and Jason’s beginning to think it’s him. Maybe if he weren’t around, the Titans would be fine. Maybe they would all get along. They definitely would not be having this argument right now. All of this is his fault and he can’t do it anymore.

“Why is that?” You snap your attention to the older Titans and position yourself to be standing with your back towards Jason, drawing your own line in the sand. “He clearly didn’t fucking do it and none of you even suspected him until Rachel decided to fucking lose it.”

“Because I know he did it!” Rachel screams.

“Why would he do it, Rachel?” You screams over her. You’re going to lose your mind, you can feel it.

“He hates me, Y/n! Unless you’re too blind to see that!”

“You almost fucking killed him! Of course, he hates you!” You fight back, catching Rachel off guard. You will throw her under the bus. She’s gonna throw Jason under the bus, you’ll the same to her.

“You did what?” Kory asks.

“Yeah? In training, she lost fucking control and almost fucking killed him. Lifted him ten feet into the air, aimed a bunch of swords at him.”

“He hit me when I was down!”

“We were all blindfolded for fuck's sake! He didn't even hit you that hard!” It's in this moment, you’re positive Jason has always been right about Rachel because this is actual insanity.

Gar comes from one of the hallways looking exhausted. “Can’t a guy get some sleep?” His voice is drowsy and you glance to him.

“No, because everyone in the tower has literally lost their damn minds! They’re blaming Jason for some fucking bullshit!” You throw your arm out towards the older Titans.

“You’re always on his side!” Rachel screams.

“Someone has to be, Rachel! Clearly, none of you are gonna actually ask him if he did it. You’re all just pointing fucking fingers like a bunch of children.” You look at the supposed adults surrounding you. “Hey, uh, right, so how did Jason do it when I was like….with him? Do you think he ran out of his room the second Kory came to get you just do that? That's fucking stupid!"

“He's the only one that would have done it!" Rachel argues.

You laugh. How can anyone be taking this seriously right now? “But he wouldn't even do it! I know he didn't do it! He was barely fucking awake when I walked into his room! How would he have done it?!” You tell a little bit of lie. It's not that he was asleep but he was kind of in a trance when you walked in. Regardless, you know it wasn't Jason. He wouldn't mess with Rachel like that and the more you think about it, the more you’re realizing that almost every single one of their fights has been caused by Rachel.

“We aren’t pointing our fingers at him.” Dawn says calmly.

“Hank is! Rachel is! You asked him about the picture of Elis and you,” You face Donna. “Asked about a pop? How the fuck would he know any of that!? Jason’s right, you’re all fucking insane! You all take down these shitty fucking people with evidence but when it comes to your own, you don’t need evidence to point the finger! What the hell is that about!?”

“Jason is an asshole!” Rachel yells.

“He is! But he isn’t a mind games kind of asshole! And being an asshole doesn't justify being blamed for some bullshit he very clearly did not do! He’s got more of a fucking problem with Dick and Dick is the only one not experiencing this weird shit, isn’t that weird? What the hell is wrong with you guys?” You scoff.

The anger bubbles through your entire body. Every inch of you feels like it's on fire. It's disgusting and appalling that these supposed heroes can blame Jason for this. How do they not see that he's struggling? How have they not noticed he's all but sleeping in the training room and skipping dinner? You know you cannot be the only to have noticed. Gar has. They should notice. They're supposed to be looking out for you four, not making false accusations with no proof or even a motive. It's not right and it's not fair. Jason deserves better than all of them.

“Y/n.” Gar warns softly as your hands start to glow.

“No! Fuck that! Are you all fucking blind? Are Gar and me the only fucking people noticing that he is really fucking struggling right now? And all of you are going to be making it worse! He is practically living in the training room, he’s barely eating, and he’s not sleeping. I know you guys are self-absorbed and for heroes, that’s weird, too but you guys have had to have noticed right?”

The room goes silent. The only one who has noticed is Kory and she isn’t accusing Jason of anything. You can feel the burning start behind your eyes with the silence of the room. This is the most unbelievable thing you’ve ever witnessed and been a part of. How have they not noticed? It's so blatantly obvious and none of them even care. It's cruel.

“Wow.” You nod your head with a scoff. “Good work, team. Good work looking after your own.” You grit your teeth and you can’t believe these people consider themselves heroes. “You know, you get kidnapped, tortured, and then dropped from a skyscraper and let me know how that treats your psyche. He didn’t fucking do it and it’s disgusting you all even think he did.”

“Who else did it then, kid?” Hank questions, crossing his arms.

“I don’t know but it wasn’t him. I know him better than all of you. It wasn’t him, Hank.” You’re nearly whining, practically pleading with them to believe you.

“He drew the crosses on my mirror, no one else hats me.” Rachel declares.

“Okay, let me break this down because you're clearly not using your brain. Mental manipulation works best when the person doing it, lets you believe you’re on the same side. If you were on opposing sides, it’s easier to see through the bullshit. Jason and you are not on the same side, ever. So, why would it be him? Again, he isn’t the mental manipulation type. The closest he gets to it is just talking and talking and talking until you get annoyed.”

“We know it wasn’t Rachel.” Donna states. “Or Gar.”

“It wasn’t Dick.” Dawn chimes in.

“How do you know!? He’s been acting fucking weird as shit lately, too!”

Dick's been kind of down and out lately. He's been checking around the tower and you swear you overheard him talking to himself the other night. Dick seems like he's also losing it. But, again, apparently, the only people who notice are you and Gar. For people who are supposed to be observant, they all suck at it.

“Dick wouldn’t do that.” Hank defends.

“Right, so I should believe Dick wouldn’t do it because you say so but you won’t believe that Jason didn’t do it because I say so. Great reasoning there, Hank.” You gives Hank a sarcastic thumbs-up.

“Hey, watch who you’re talking to.”

“Yeah? The fuck you gonna do about it? I’ve been held captive twice and once was with Deathstroke, I’m not fucking afraid of you.” You scoff at him. “Gonna forget what team I’m on, too?”

“Y/n, come on.” Gar pleads with you.

“This is fucking bullshit and I know you know it.” You look over at him before looking back to the older Titans. “What did he do that is so bad that you guys hate him that much?” Your voice breaks with the question because you can’t imagine him doing anything. You can’t figure out why no one sees him the way you do. Or why none of them want to.

Just as Rachel is about to fight you, the elevator opens and all of you look over, seeing Dick look a little spazzed out.

“He’s here.” Dick whispers as if he’s just cracked some sort of code. “In the tower. Deathstroke’s here in the tower.” Dick explains. “He took pictures of all of us.”

You would very much, also, like to be back with Deathstroke. At least the guy was a little more straightforward than these people. Deathstroke had a reason for the madness. It wasn't a good reason but it was a reason. Meanwhile, the Titans have nothing and Dick had officially lost his mind.

“Dick…talk to me, what’s with the gun?” Hank asks, pulling everyone’s attention to the gun in Dick’s hand.

It’s this moment that confirms to you that everyone in the tower has lost their minds. Deathstroke is also completely insane but you and Jason were tortured by him and even you two aren’t that out of your minds. You aren’t sure what’s up with the Titans, but at this point, you don’t even wanna know. Instead, you figure you’ll use this time to grab Jason and try to avoid the other Titans. But, you look around and he’s gone.

“Fuck.” You let out an exasperated sigh, actively pulling attention back on you. “Shit.” Your eyes widen and the panic sets in. Jason isn’t doing well mentally and now you’re scared for what he’s going to do. Everyone blames him. Everyone hates him. He wants to be with Deathstroke over these people.

“Y/n?” Gar asks, seeing the panic written across your entire body as you approach him.

“Check the training room for Jason.” You rush as you dart the other way and everyone is left confused as to what you could be in a hurry for.

You head to his room first and he isn't there. You don't think he would go to the training room, it's too exposed. But, Jason keeps falling in his dreams and he has a thing for suffering. If it were you, you'd go to the roof so that's where you go. If Jason would rather be with Deathstroke, the answer would be the roof. He’s terrified and you can see it. He has nightmares about falling so of course, that would be his way out. To him, it’s going to be easy and accessible and no one even noticed he was gone.

You run towards the roof door, barging through it and the door flies open. Your heart sinks as you sees Jason standing on the ledge, looking straight ahead. Your feet come to a complete stop and you swear you never thought you’d have to talk someone down from this. And you hate that he even feels this way. He deserves so much better. But, you have to swallow the lump that’s forming in your throat and walk over to him.

“Jay?” You call quietly, walking carefully as if the roof is a lake covered in thin ice. Any wrong step would send you both into freezing waters.

“They all hate me.” Jason’s voice is so small and it breaks a part of you.

“They fucking suck, Jason.” You state, trying to make your voice sound like it’s not about to crack.

“It’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.” You hold your voice steady as you close the distance toward the ledge. “None of this is your fault.” You state strongly. “Cam you please get down?”

“Rachel blamed me first. Maybe if I didn’t tell her to get checked by a priest.” Jason lets out a breath, ignoring the request. He swears everyone’s lives would be better if he wasn’t a part it anymore.

You take a step close to the ledge, looking over it and you feel yourself grow nauseous. You’re sick and tired of these heights but this is Jason. You look up to him and with shaky hands, you put your hands on the ledge and lift yourself up. You take a seat, letting your legs dangle as you have a death grip on the ledge. Jason glances to you with just his eyes, daring to not move his head. You’re never going to let Jason be alone in any of this. If he’s going to stand on the edge, you’re gonna be right there with him. He will never be alone if you have anything to say about it.

“Her dad possessed you, traumatized you. That wasn’t her fault, but it was her responsibility to apologize for it and listen to you about it. That’s not on you, Jay.”

“I just keep fucking up.” His voice quivers as he moves his foot forward and you nearly break.

“Jason,” You rush his name. “I am begging you not to walk off this roof.” You keep your attention on Jason and that’s all you can focus on. You can’t fucking lose him. “It’s not your fault. You’re not fucking it up. Okay? This is on them. You’re just trying to help.”

“I keep falling.” Jason’s voice quivers again. “It won’t stop.” Jason sucks in a breath and now you know why he keeps standing at his windows like that. He’s just reliving it over and over and over.

“Jason, it’s gonna be okay.” You keep your voice soft and gentle as you keep your stare forward.

Jason doesn’t know how you can even say that. It doesn’t feel like it’s going to be okay. It’s been a week and it feels like it happened yesterday. It still feels like he’s on the window washing crane. The Titans hate him for no reason. He’s never done anything to make them hate him. That’s not going to be okay and it’s not going to get better. They’re always going to hate and they’re always going to blame him for anything they can. And it’s his fault.

This always happens. Jason pushes and pushes until people break and pull away. He doesn’t even know exactly why he does it but he does. People try to help him and it all fails. He’s a mess and maybe he’s too big of a mess to ever be fixed. He’s tired of it and he’s tired of feeling like this.

“Bruce wasn’t the first one, ya know?” Jason states. “Who tried to help me. I can make a list. Relatives, teachers, cops, Dick. Nobody's been up to the task.”

You pause and you already knew that all Jason has ever wanted is feel good enough. He sabotages. You get it because you do it, too just in different ways. But, Jason is not all bad. Jason is hard-headed and stubborn and cocky. He can be a little shit and he’s a little too snippy and sarcastic sometimes. But, if anyone bothered to get to know him, they’d know him how you know him. Which is that he’s a good friend. He’ll sacrifice his own feelings for his friends, he’s self-sacrificing, and kind, and funny. He’s charming and a geek in his own way. He’s a nerd and he deserves to be cared for. Everyone gave up way too soon.

“I am.” Your voice is quiet and you peak up at him with just your eyes, keeping your head steady and your words catch Jason off-guard. “I mean it. You know I don’t lie to you. Put that shit on me, remember? You’re not a fuck up. You deserve for people not to give up on you.”

Jason lets out a scoff because he doesn’t want to believe you. “I’ve got a poison in me.” Jason lets out a huff. “Shit spreads. It can affect even the healthiest people.”

“You don’t have a poison, Jay.” You state. “You don’t.”

“Look at what happened to you!” Jason’s eyes water further, blurring his vision slightly as his voice cracks.

“What? Deathstroke?” You scoff. “I was fucked up long before Dick brought me here, alright? Gotham, death, torture, held captive, almost murdered. Almost murdered Jerry. That’s all me, that has nothing to do with you. Deathstroke was gonna happen. If it wasn’t you coming up with the idea, it would have been me, let’s be honest.” 

Jason bounces to something else. He’s finding every reason he can to keep standing here. He wants it all to be over, for the pain and the shame and the guilt to just stop. But, he doesn’t want to give up either. There are two sides of his brain playing tug of war. One of them is screaming and crying, pleading to hold a little longer while the other side is cackling and chanting to jump because everyone’s lives would be better without him in it. 

“It’s happened before.” Jason starts. “I once spent two nights in juvie and four fucking people died. It follows me like a curse.”

Your brows furrow and you hate that he feels this way about himself. No one should ever feel like that. You want to get off of this roof and hunt down every single person who’s ever made Jason Todd feel like he’s a poison and he’s not good enough. You’ll fight the entire world for him.

“Were you Robin?” You ask.

Jason pauses. “Yeah.”

“Then it’s not your fault.” You let out a scoff and you really do have something again Bruce and Dick. “That’s on Bruce. He’s been Batman our entire lives. He shouldn't need a Robin. He should have been a better Batman. It’s not your fault those people died, do you hear me?”

“I just want it to stop.” Jason’s voice finally breaks and you want to break with him but you can’t.

You want to drag him off of this roof and grab him by the face, scream at him that it’s all going to be okay and that he’s good enough. That he deserves everything good to happen because he is good. There is nothing wrong with him. He is worth the effort. But, you’re so scared that if you make any move towards him, he’ll lose it entirely. You would do anything to get his pain to stop.

“It’s not just you, Jay.” Your voice is soft. “Look, you know I have nightmares, too about all of it. It’s not just you and as long as I’m alive, it’ll never be just you. As long as I’m alive, you will never be alone in this shit.”

“What?”

“If I’m alive, you will never be alone. You won’t go through that shit alone because I’d follow you into the dark if you asked me to. You’re my best friend in the whole world and...I care more about you than I do about almost anyone I have ever met. I’d do anything in the world if you asked me to. You and me. Always.” You pause, looking behind you to see Dick standing a few feet away. “I mean it. You’re not a fuck up and you are not alone. Ever. Fuck, everyone else, okay? I am batshit terrified right now but I’m here with you because I care about you and I’d lose my fucking mind if I lost you. My life would be so much fucking worse without you in it.” Your words more intense and stern with every second. "Fuck them because you're not a fucking poison and you're not fucking cursed. And someone should have fucking been there for you. So, I will be. Now, get the fuck off this ledge.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Put it on me.” Your voice is so gentle, it nearly shatters Jason. "I will never give up on you. I will never let you do any of this alone, Jay. Please." You finally look at him with the final plea. Your eyes lock with Jason's and he make the decision. He takes a step back, stepping down from the ledge.

You follow his lead quickly, relieved over the whole situation and you feel like you can breathe again. You close the distance between you and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you. Jason buries his face into your shoulder, his arms hugging you tightly. Everything is so heavy for him. The weight of the world is drowning him and you are his life jacket.

And Dick sees the two of you and that’s when he gets it. When he gets what it means it has someone who is literally a ride or die. Dick worried about you together after Jerry. As friends, as more than friends, just being around each other. Something told Dick that would just be the beginning and the Deathstroke happened and Dick was certain he was right. But, now, he’s not sure if you’re the cause for each other’s destructive behavior.

You’re both just like that but you both get it. You understand exactly what the other is going through and how to handle it. It’s not about you causing each other to do something stupid, it’s that you both have someone who is there when you do it so you can pick up those pieces. He gets it now and he understands why he should have told the Titans about Jericho from the beginning. None of this would have happened. Jason would not have wanted to walk off this roof had he been honest. Maybe the Titans wouldn’t have disbanded. This is on him, not the two of you in front of him.

“This is my fault.” Dick speaks up, you and Jason pulling away from each other.

“Okay?” You question him, not even wanting to deal with him. This is also his fault, Jason and everything. This is on Dick. 

“Deathstroke, all of this is my fault.” Dick admits.

“Yeah, I said that.” You nod your head. You’re not dealing with this. You got Jason off the ledge and would like to bring him inside and shield him from the Titans. “I’ll get Rachel or Dawn or Donna to talk you down though if you need it.” Jason looks at you, a bit surprised by the venom in your voice.

“No,” Dick shakes his head. “I owe everyone an explanation.” Dick sucks in a breath, you and Jason waiting to hear where this could possibly be going right now, of all times. “I killed Deathstroke’s son.” Dick admits.

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[ros3ybabe]

Do you have any study tips for people who find it hard to concentrate for long periods of time, or just struggle to even sit down and focus?

Hi! I'm so sorry for the late answer, I've been busy with classwork, curating my schedule for the next few weeks, and just life in general.

I myself struggle to sit down and focus and have trouble concentrating for long periods of time. Everyone works differently and some things may not be helpful to everyone, just a disclaimer!

Something I do that really helps me is to have a set "ritual" I do every time I need to or at least know I need to do school work or productive things that I personally want to do.

My current "ritual" includes the following, in order:

Make a cup of my preferred drink (currently iced coffee with one sweet n low and French vanilla creamer) + grab a glass or bottle of water

Set out all my necessary materiales (studying ex: textbooks, stationary, technology, planner, etc)

Take a deep breath

Write out a todo list that is managable for what I want/need to accomplish

Flick on my desk lamp

Begin the first step for the first talk (open textbook, go to website, write out note title, etc)

My brain got into the habit of "lamp flicks on, sip of coffee, time to work" and it became very automated.

Lately, I've tried to spread out my necessary tasks out throughout a week (within necessary due dates) with daily planning for flexibility of my schedule and whatever things pop up. I believe being flexible with scheduling tasks helps a lot because sometimes I have more energy on some days than others, and other times, I need to allocate energy to other priorities.

For concentrating for long periods of time, I try to figure out my limits, and do whatever I can to work with myself and not against myself. I have severe unmedicated ADHD (as well as other things mentally) and I've learned to listen to my brain and body as best I can.

I can not concentrate if my phone is not near me or within eyesight when I study. I will be too preoccupied thinking about my phone and any missed notifications if I can't see my phone. Answering texts and calls while doing homework does not interfere with my productivity as it takes me a few seconds to type out a message and hit send or answer a call and listen/explain that I'm busy. (it's usually my dad who calls me, and I have no problem stopping my work to talk to my dad).

I need caffiene to give me that push to start. Once I taste my coffee, I know it's time to crack down on my assignments and start focusing on my work.

Background noise!! Very rarely can I listen to music when working at home, so I usually have a comfort show or some youtube video playing in the background while I do work. When I'm on campus, I listen to a specific playlist while doing schoolwork, usually more mellow music like Lana Del Ray, The Neighborhood, Chase Atlantic, MARINA, Mitski, Arctic Monkeys, Mother Mother, Cigarettes After Sex, beebadoobee, Taylor Swift etc. I normally listen to K-pop, but my favorite songs are too upbeat for getting work done.

I try not to watch the clock or set a timer because I never really know how long some assignments will take and if I'm watching the time pass I tend to get anxious and then my mind will wander from the task at hand.

Water!! I have to remind myself all the time, but having water at my desk or study area keeps me hydrated, which keeps me focused and awake.

I try not to eat big meals right before I do work. If I do eat something substantial before I need to work, I always wait 30 to 60 minutes so I can perk back up and properly focus on my work.

Never push past my physical energy limits. If I'm falling asleep at my desk, if I'm yawning uncontrollably, if my body feels heavy with fatigue, I will not push myself past exhaustion as that is no longer healthily productive.

Sleep is a priority!! If I'm sleepy and tired and groggy, I can't work properly. When I'm low on sleep, I also tend to over do the caffiene and overeat, which makes me both uncontrollably anxious and shaky while also making me more lethargic, thus inhibiting my work ability.

Listening to my body and learning how I work best has been the most helpful in my concentration and productivity abilities. I know when I'm feeling off, how to determine what I need in order to feel more regulated and functional. Good, healthy habits and a little self intuition go a long way for me.

I hope this was helpful in some way. I didn't want to give generic or basic tips because this is not a one size fits all topic. I'm open to any other questions!!

Til next time, lovelies!! 🩷

[totowlff]

comments

➝ you posted a certain tiktok with toto and the comments got out of hand. now, he wants to understand why he's being called 'daddy'.

➝ word count: 2k

➝ warnings: daddy kink (?), sexual tension.

➝  author’s note: i never thought i'd be posting an original work, let alone on tumblr and in english (definitely not my mother tongue, so forgive grammatical errors). i take this opportunity to thank the group 'wolff maximum security horny prison' for inspiring me to make this fic. i hope you, the reader, enjoy it as much as i do.

You practically saw the sun rise on the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya. Not that you minded, after all, working in Formula 1 meant having completely unusual schedules. And when you accepted that job, you knew your routine would be that way, especially working with social media.

The day you were hired was, without a doubt, one of the most exciting of your life. Your resume was up to the challenge of taking care of communication for the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 Team, even if you didn't believe you were going to be hired. After all, the interview had been a disaster from your point of view. But, three years later, there you were, working on another season with the team you loved so much. “Maybe that's what got their attention after all,” you thought, taking a last sip of your cup of coffee.

Sitting at one of the tables outside the Mercedes motorhome, you were scrolling through the Twitter timeline, reading the supportive comments from fans, going through the 45-day thread of a girl asking for the half zipper sweater, as well as multiple memes of the infamous picture Valtteri took in Colorado.

— How many times am I going to have to look at that ass? — you muttered to yourself, liking some photos of the fans who were following free practice the day before. Until a notification appeared at the top of your screen. A message from Elena.

Toto Wolff's personal assistant.

You couldn't hold back a sigh at the thought of him. The job could have several benefits like health insurance, on-site gym and even a brand new Mercedes for your commute. However, after three years, you were sure what the biggest benefit of being a Mercedes employee was.

It was being able to see Toto almost every day.

He was imposing, and you didn't just mean his height. He exuded an aura of authority that you couldn't explain, but that made your heart race and your hands go cold every time he walked into the room. You didn't like to admit it, but he had an intoxicating power over you. And something told you that he knew all too well.

Maybe it was the way he was always willing to execute your content ideas, no matter how silly they sounded, like mimicking a fighting game opening. Or was the way he smiled every time you told him about the results of your latest social media campaign?

Perhaps it was the way he lightly tapped you on the shoulder as he passed you through the huddle of mechanics, engineers and drivers inside the garage. That touch never failed to make your cheeks turn red, even after three years working together. And the blush only increased when you noticed that Toto had a mischievous smile on his face.

Opening the notification, Elena's words brought a smile to your lips.

“We arrived in five minutes. He is in a good mood today”, the message read.

Good mood meant content.

Content meant engagement.

“Today is going to be a good day”, you thought, typing a quick answer to the assistant and getting up from your table in the motorhome. Tossing the coffee cup in the trash and waving at Anna, the caterer, you walked out through the paddock.

The sun was shining brightly and the place was busy, with people arriving all the time in motorhomes. The conversations and the clicks of the cameras were the soundtrack of your walk to the main gate, where everyone had to pass to enter in the backstage of the most exclusive category in motorsport.

Standing by the gate with your phone in hand, you had no trouble spotting Elena approaching the turnstiles that gave access to the paddock. That's because, next to her, stood a tall man you knew well. Toto was chuckling at something the assistant had said as she swiped his pass to let him in. In his usual Mercedes white shirt and glasses, he deftly held his iPad and phone in one hand. He seemed more relaxed, not to mention calm, unlike the last few weeks, when chaos reigned in the garage.

Elena didn't take long to realize you were waiting for them. Pointing towards you, she said something to Toto, who smiled and waved in your direction. That simple action caused a familiar sensation to settle in your chest. A heat that insisted on appearing every time the Austrian appeared in your field of vision.

Trying to ignore the sensation, you waved back and, holding up the phone, pointed at the device, in an attempt to warn that you were going to record his arrival. Opening your phone's camera, you positioned yourself and hit the play button. Toto crossed the paddock entrance and strode over to you. You only had time to reach out for a quick brush of his fist against yours.

— Good morning, boss — you said, smiling.

— Good morning, Y/N — he said, walking past you and heading for the motorhome.

You clicked the pause button and smiled at your phone screen.

Definitely that video would be a great way to say good morning to the Mercedes’ followers.

Hours later, you were sitting in one of the motorhome's meeting rooms, watching the video you had taken earlier in an air of contemplation. The combination of the music, the slow motion and the simple fact that the main character of the recording was Toto had made the video blow up. Your phone kept vibrating, notifications piling up at the top of the screen, plenty of comments and, obviously, you had taken a look at what people had to say about the video. And as much as you'd told them to behave in a tweet that became a meme, the comments were kind of over the top. The fans of Toto had definitely lost control.

Not that you didn't agree with every word they were saying about him. The Austrian was indeed a handsome man. But after three years of working together, you could fearlessly add to the list the adjectives smart, determined, and funny. 

Everything that made your heart race…

— Apparently you liked the video, Y/N — a voice with a thick Austrian accent sounded from behind you, as a pair of large hands landed on your shoulders. Looking up, you found Toto standing behind you, the corners of his mouth curled in a smile.

— The video we shot earlier today is doing well — you said, smiling.

— Oh yes? — he asked, moving from behind his chair to take a seat next to you, not taking his eyes off you.

— Yes, we already have three million views and more than a thousand comments on TikTok alone. Not to mention the three thousand likes on Twitter and…

— What do the comments say? — Toto questioned, removing his glasses and setting them on the table in front of him.

You can't help but swallow. 

— It’s compliments, nothing more.

— Read to me — Toto said, in an imposing voice.

It hadn't been a request.

That had been an order.

And the last thing you wanted was to disobey an order from Toto Wolff.

Lifting your phone screen and clicking on the comments section, you scrolled for something that was appropriate to say to your boss. Which was next to nothing.

— Well, one user says “You just powered up, admin”.

Toto smiled.

—  What else?

You kept scrolling through the hundreds of comments praising him, until you found another one that was decent enough.

— A girl said “I can already tell today is gonna be a good day for the Mercedes family”.

— And she was right — he replied, crossing his arms. Qualifying had gone very well, to the relief of the entire team. Finally the car had stopped bouncing and everything pointed to an excellent race the next day — Anything else?

— Well, that’s it.

— You only read two comments. And the other hundreds?

— Uh…

— Is there something I can't know? — Toto asked, raising an eyebrow.

— It's not that, it's just…

— Are they bad comments?

— Well…

— I don't care about them, you can read.

— Isn’t bad comments.

— So, what's their problem?

“Shit”, you thought.

— Well, one user says “That man knows he's hot”.

The Austrian leaned back in his chair, the shadow of a smile in his lips. With his arms still crossed, his veins stood out under his skin, causing you to immediately look away, towards your phone screen.

—  What else?

— Someone else says “Pfff, he's so handsome”.

Toto couldn't contain a laugh. Seeing him like that made you smile. That situation had everything to be completely embarrassing, even more so in the stressful moment that the team was going through. Seeing him smile at those weird comments made you feel relieved. Even more comfortable.

— Is that what you didn't want to talk about?

— Well, that and the hundreds of other comments calling you a — you broke off, realizing how inappropriate it was to say that before it was too late.

— Calling me what?

— Nothing, Toto — you said, looking at your phone screen, in a feeble attempt to hide your discomfort. Unsuccessfully.

— Y/N — he said softly, the thick accent making your name sound more beautiful than ever.

— A daddy — you said in a low voice, looking up at him and finding the Austrian with a confused expression on his face.

— Daddy?

— Yeah, daddy — you repeated, feeling the heat rise in your face.

He tilted his head, staring at you.

— What does that mean?

Your mind freezed. There was simply a blue screen in place of any coherent words or phrases that made any sense. "What the hell am I going to do? What do I say?", you asked yourself, feeling completely lost in that cubicle that Toto called meeting room.

— You do not know?

— No. Do you know?

— Yeah — you answered after some seconds of hesitation. You knew better than to lie to him. In front of Toto, you were like an open book — I know.

— And?

— What?

— What does daddy means?

— Well… Uh… Daddy is — you started to stutter, trying to find a way to say that without sounding weird. Not that the whole situation wasn't weird enough. He kept watching you, eyes fixed on your face — Daddy is a word girls use for older guys on the internet.

Toto blinked once, twice.

—  Just that?

—  Well, no. Girls use that word when talking about older guys who interest them… In a sexual way.

You expected him to be shocked.

Horrified, actually.

However, a malicious, almost devilish smile appeared on Toto's face.

— Do you agree with what people have said about me?

— About what? — you replied, almost innocently.

— About me being handsome.

You could feel your pulse roaring in your ears.

— Yes — you replied, after hesitating for a few seconds.

— So, would you call me a daddy? — Toto questioned you in a low and excruciatingly sensual tone.

You swallowed hard.

— Well — you started to say, as Toto continued to stare at your flustered face. You were thinking of all the ways you could say yes to him. However, most of them involved some form of physical contact that would be completely inappropriate between a boss and his employee. While you were lost in your thoughts, looking for some way to answer, Toto rose from his chair and approached you slowly. Placing a hand on each arm of the chair, you were trapped between the back of your seat and his body. Your face was inches from his. Then, Toto brought his face closer to your ear.

— Can you answer me, Y/N? — he whispered

— Yes —  you said, shyly.

— Would you call me a daddy? — Toto repeated the question, each word sounding sexier than the last in that accent you loved so much.

Feeling a shiver run through your body with his hot breath against your skin, you found yourself with no way out. There was only one answer in your lips, ready to be said.

— Yes… Daddy.

— Good to know — the Austrian said, before standing up and walking towards the door. However, before leaving you alone with your thoughts and a pounding heart, Toto looked over his shoulder, a devilish smirk in his lips — Babygirl.

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 7

Heyooooooooooo. I'm back and there are no longer any parts backlogged - I'mma have to get to work on finishing this series lol

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Meeting new people, feels

Word Count: 1,900

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4][Part 5][Part 6]

The sunset blazes through the kitchen window, bathing you and Bucky in soft golden light. The focus you had not even five minutes ago is a distant memory when faced with the view in front of you. Bucky looks so fine sitting across from you with the light shadowing one side of his face and illuminating his shorter hair. 

You still can’t get over the fact that Bucky actually cut it – you’d mentioned a haircut on more than one occasion, but he’d always brushed it off and said it wasn’t his style anymore. You disagreed then and you absolutely disagree now. His long hair was gorgeous in its own right, but nothing compares to the uninhibited view of his face now. His hair is mussed in spiky clumps where Bucky has run his fingers through it in frustration, but you can’t help but think how good it looks even like this.

You’re pretending to type something on your laptop, ensuring Bucky thinks that you’re actually working and not staring at him like the love-struck idiot you are. Every once in a while you’ll catch his eyes flickering up to meet yours, so all you can do is act like you’re thinking about something really hard and you’d just so happened to have blanked out on him. 

It’s been quiet between the two of you for the last 30 minutes – the vigor and excitement for planning ratcheting down once you got into the gritty details. That’s why you’re not expecting the thump, thump, thump that echoes down the hallway from the front door. Bucky’s head jerks up and he looks at you with a quirked eyebrow, asking silently if you knew someone was coming over. You shake your head and rise from the table. 

Stepping under the kitchen archway and into the living room, you pad across the carpet and into the entry hall. “Just a moment!” you yell out to the stranger behind the door. Without looking, you slide the dagger hidden inside the entryway table into your hand and approach the door. Rising slightly onto your tiptoes, you peer through the peephole in the door.

A couple stands on your front porch, the view fishbowling to where it appears their middles are huge but their heads and feet are the size of golfballs. You look over your shoulder at Bucky, who stands behind the living room wall with gun ready. You laugh silently and mouth the Greten’s at him. He puffs his cheeks out when he exhales and drops his gun, tucking it into the waistband at the small of his back. You slip your own knife up and into your sleeve.

Opening the door with a reserved but polite smile on your face, you greet the nextdoor neighbors. “Oh, hello! I wasn’t expecting company.”

The tall woman before you blushes slightly and dips her head. “Apologies. We were just wanting to stop by and introduce ourselves. We wanted to wait a day and allow you the time to settle in. I’m Tessa and this is my husband Christopher, we live right over there in the blue house.” Tessa points to the home directly beside yours with several windows boarded over and paint peeling off in some spots.

You smile brightly at the pair and introduce yourself before yelling behind you, “James, we have guests!” Turning back to the couple, you step aside and usher them in. “Come, come! It’s freezing out there.”

Christopher tries to decline, but you won’t hear of it. You and Bucky had already decided to meet and befriend this couple, so them showing up works out well. Their dossiers noted that they were a well-off family that knew everyone and everything going on within the community, but you can’t help but note the discrepancies you find between the surveillance photos taken a year ago and the people in front of you now. 

Christopher’s thinning hair and exposed scalp are covered by a thin toboggan that can’t be effective in this weather, and you see that Tessa’s dress is threadbare with nearly half a dozen patches when she takes off her overcoat. Regardless of the state of their clothing, Tessa offers you the small bowl she’d been holding in her hands.

“It’s my grandmother’s recipe. Everyone says it’s the best they’ve ever had!” She smiles proudly at this statement and you can’t help but grin back.

“Well, I’m excited to try them!”

Bucky walks into the living room, acting as if he hadn’t been behind the wall with a gun only moments ago. You escort Christopher and Tessa further inside and close the door behind them. Bucky walks up and shakes Christopher’s hand and introduces himself. 

“I am so sorry,” you begin, “but I haven’t started on dinner yet. I can whip something up real fast, though!”

“No, no, dear,” Tessa declines. “We didn’t mean to intrude – only wanted to introduce ourselves and then get out of your hair.”

“Nonsense,” you say. “The more the merrier.” You pat Bucky on the shoulder as you walk by him and into the kitchen. “Tessa and I will be in here. I’ll let you guys know when the food is ready.”

Bucky nods and holds his hand out to the couch, offering Christopher a seat. Bucky takes the armchair across from him (which has a loaded gun stuffed between the arm and seat cushion). With your hands full, you look at Tessa and nod your head towards the kitchen.

She starts to shuffle across the living room carpet towards you, her hands clasped in front of her. “We really didn’t mean to intrude on you and your husband. We just –”

You let out a hearty guffaw to mask your displeasure in correcting her and shake your head. “He’s my brother,” you explain to them. 

She stops where she’s at, standing behind the sofa next to Christopher. They share a look with each other before Christopher turns to Bucky. “Brother?” he asks.

You and Bucky look at each other with small grins. There’s no way you could ever pass for blood-relatives.

“He’s adopted,” you say.

“Oh, well in that case,” Tessa says as she continues her walk towards you and the kitchen, “I have a son about your age…”

***

Dinner was a simple affair, but the Greten’s seemed to enjoy it immensely. Barely any food remains on the shared plates in front of you, your guests having taken second and third helpings. You’re glad to see that they enjoyed the meal.

The conversations were very surface level ‘getting to know you’ topics, which is always the most tedious part of meeting new people. But laying the foundation for your life in order to establish your cover sometimes: like now, when you and Bucky can relax into an easy ‘sibling’ rivalry and rib on each other. It keeps everything lighthearted and doesn’t allow you think on how this would have played out differently as ‘husband and wife’.

The couple are in their 50s and have lived in this town their whole lives, so if there’s anything you and Bucky need to find out then they’re probably the ones to help with that. They have 5 children ranging in ages from 28 to 13, all living at home with the exception of the eldest son that Tessa is dying for you to meet.

You laugh merrily as you follow the Gretens back to the front door.

“You both must come,” Tessa is saying as she pulls on her coat. “Most everyone in town is going to be there and they need to meet you.”

Christopher slides the thin toboggan out of his pocket and places it on his head. “You both are going to be a hit: it’s been so long since anyone new has come around.”

Bucky stands next to you and puts his arm on your head, leaning on you as if you were short enough to be leaned on. You scrunch your face and slide out from under him, elbowing him in the side as you do it. “We wouldn’t miss it,” Bucky replies.

“Great!” Tessa claps her hand and ushers Christopher out the door. “Saturday at 9pm. Don’t forget!”

“We won’t,” you agree.

After a quick goodbye, you close and lock the door.

“They were nice…” you begin.

“But…?” Bucky continues.

“But…something isn’t adding up.”

Bucky hums his agreement. 

You both stand at the door, contemplating what could have happened to this sweet couple since the intel was gathered, but without the people in question there to ask (and it being much too rude to ask) there isn’t much point.

You walk away to begin cleaning the kitchen. Tessa offered to help, but you wouldn’t hear of it – after her stories of how hard she’s worked to take care of her family and this community, you couldn’t dream of accepting. Bucky follows you into the kitchen and removes the plates from the table. You work in silence, the camaraderie from dinner fading away into something else. Not uncomfortable, but nowhere near as companionable as the silence used to be in the beginning of the year.

You and Bucky used to lay in the quiet dark after sex. Clothes on the floor, sheets rumpled, hair messy. There wasn’t much that needed to be said that couldn’t wait until after you’d caught your breaths. But the peace that arrived after the frantic activities led to you falling asleep in his arms on more than one occasion.

But you were always alone come morning.

The clack of plates stacking on top of each other rouses you from your thoughts. You’d been mindlessly scrubbing dishes while Bucky dried, but you realize that your hands have been floating in the soapy water with nothing to do. You quickly pull the plug and watch the liquid form a tight spiral over the drain. The glug, glug, glug precedes Bucky as he clears his throat.

“You wanna…” You look up at him as he says this and see him nod his head in the direction of the living room. “Uh. Wanna watch a movie?” His arm scratches nervously at the back of his neck and you can tell he’s uncomfortable. Why would he ask?

“No,” you say. “No, I think I’m gonna go to bed. Tomorrow’s the first day at the facility, ya know?” You give him a brittle smile as you say this. Stepping forward, you make sure not to brush against Bucky as you slide past him and out towards your bedroom. You hear him release a heavy sigh behind you, probably glad that you didn’t take him up on the offer.

He may have only mentioned watching a movie together to be polite, but a couch and a dark room with Bucky hadn’t ended platonically the last several times it’s happened. The memories will probably prevent movie nights together for as long as you still have feelings for him.

Which will mostly likely be for the rest of your life.

@jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283

Part 8

[vibratingskull]

Isekai part 2

Part two baby !!

It’s a gn reader story. No bêta reader involved, sorry for any typo.

You turn on yourself on the hard bed, slightly opening your eyes and your heart skips a beat. Over you float two glowing red orbs and a shadow. You pull the cover to your nose, terrified. 

"Wake up." Says Admiral Thrawn. "It is time for a lesson."

You slowly nod, still frozen by fright. He raises up and leaves the cell, letting you a bit of intimity to properly wake yourself up. You sigh. This man must have killed several people with a heart attack. 

He takes you to the interrogation room, the one where you broke, and you follow as best you could behind his long strides. You didn't even have breakfast, not that what they serve to their prisoners is particularly appetizing, but still. 

You sit down face to face for the lesson, you teach him your language and he teaches you Basic. But your pace is much different, he's already learning complex syntaxe while you're still struggling over their alphabet. You don't consider yourself having a big ego, but it stings. 

You pass the next hour breaking your brain on those damn letters and explaining to him further complex rules of your language. 

At some point he takes your phone out of his pocket and unlocks it without difficulty, you figure he managed to open it for a month or two, now. Even if your sense of passing time is dulled by your time passed in the cell. You slightly straight up at the view of your phone, alerted, and he immediately noticed.

“You seem envious.” He plainly says, while you’re devouring your phone with your eyes.

“I would like to try and contact my parents.” You say.

He looks at you up and down and gives you your phone. You’re surprised but seize it like he would snatch it back from your hand either way. He must have judged you inoffensive. 

You frantically search through your messages but the lack of notification tells you that whatever service providing messages here must not  support your phone. You try despite everything.

You select your father’s conversation and start typing, pouring your heart out, diluting your blood in every word you type, telling everything you can, relating every incredible thing that happened to you.

You tap send.

“We will soon see the Emperor.” Thrawn casually says.

How can he drop a bomb like that so nonchalantly? You raise your gaze to his, looking right at you. 

“How… How is he?” You ask, fear starting to turn up.

“Proud, royal, haughty... You can’t describe him with so many adjectives.” 

“I mean is he… Nice?” You try with hope.

He looks at you bluntly, like you're taking him for an idiot.

“No. He is very much not “nice”.” Your hope is immediately damped.

“I judged your case to be an unprecedented one, and decided it was appropriate to ask for his expertise on the question.”

“My case? So you believe me?!”

“Despite all logic, physics's laws and common sense? Yes. I believe your story.” He admits “And I am sure the Emperor will be terribly interested to hear it too.”

Your heart quivers. Finally, finally someone who believes you on this damn ship, even if you have a hard time believing your own story.

“Do not get your hopes up. By all accounts we do not know how you arrived here or if it is possible to send you back.” He warns you.

You nod, turning back your gaze on your phone.

“If he wants to send you back.” He ends.

 Message not sent

You close your phone, all hope slowly dying.

@floralfi, @bluechiss, @mitresha-blog1

[unreliablesnake]

Embarrassment (platonic Joel Miller x reader)

Summary: A strange father-daughter duo gets your attention at a fan signing event.

Note: singer!reader, pre-outbreak / This is the scene I mentioned in You must be new here. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

It was another signing event a day before your concert in Austin. Things went smoothly. You had every kind of fan, from an obsessed teenager through an adult who found herself in your songs straight to a creepy guy who had your face and name on a shirt and started the whole meeting with saying I love you. Sometimes it was too much to handle, but today you were in a strangely good mood.

Your ears picked up a frustrated conversation from the line in front of you. There was a teenage girl standing there with an older man, probably her father, and they argued about something quite heatedly. The girl was on the verge of a breakdown while the man seemed to be pleased with himself. He reached out to pat her head in a comical manner, but she moved out of the way and pushed his hand away.

“Can you just wait outside, please?” she asked loudly.

Several people turned to look at them, which made the girl hang her head and let out a frustrated sigh. The man theatrically thought about this suggestion, a move that drew a smile on your lips, then shook his head. The girl opened her mouth to say something, but she soon changed her mind because she noticed you watching them.

She turned away in embarrassment, and her father looked in your direction to see what made her react like this. When your eyes locked, you couldn’t help but gulp. This man was gorgeous, especially with those big brown eyes of his that were now focused on you. He was exactly your type, but you had to behave. You weren’t here to flirt with hot dads, you were here for the fans.

You cleared your throat and tore your gaze away, finally paying attention to the young guy in front of you. He gave you a nice long speech you had heard a million times before about how your music helped him through heartbreaks, but it was okay, you just had to smile and say a few kind words.

When your new favorite pair reached the table, your lips curled into a genuine smile and you looked back and forth between the two, waiting to see if any of them would start talking. But the girl seemed nervous, the dad was mentally far, far away, so you took it on yourself to break the silence.

“Hello. What’s your name?” you asked the girl. She bit on her lower lip, unable to say anything. “You know, my dad was the same when I was your age,” you told her conspiratorially, your words followed by a wink.

The man suddenly looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Really?” the girl asked with a bright smile. Finding out they had something in common with you usually helped to break the ice. “I’m Sarah. Could you sign this for me?”

You nodded with a smile as you took the CD from her and took out the cover to sign it. Out of the corner of your eye you glanced at her father who was staring at you with an amused look on his handsome face. Once you were done, you gave it back to her, but when she wanted to take it, you didn’t let go.

“Listen, I get it, fathers take every opportunity they get to embarrass their children, but it only shows that he loves you,” you told her seriously. “He came here with you, I’m sure he wants to learn what you’re excited about. Look, my dad died two years ago, but if I could go back in time, I would let him follow me everywhere so I could spend more time with him. Think about it, okay?”

She nodded then finally took the CD from you. “Thank you. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow! Bye,” she chimed happily before walking away.

Her father took a deep breath as he watched her, and once she got out of earshot, he leaned closer to you and said, “Thank you. For everything.” He flashed a disarming smile at you and it knocked every thought out of your mind. You just nodded and watched him catch up with his daughter in silence.

You took a sip of water as you tried to pull yourself together, fighting that voice in the back of your mind that told you to go after them. You couldn’t do this. Paparazzi were outside, dying to get a photo they could sell for a small fortune to gossip magazines. Seeing you flirt with him wouldn’t be good for your image.

At least that’s what your manager and publicist would say.

********

[arhvste]

“your phone will crack if you keep gripping it as tight as that.” oikawa blinked and immediately loosened the death grip he was clutching his phone with upon his best friends warning. “sorry.” the setter mumbled as his eyes fixated onto your figure from afar. iwaizumi sighed as he followed his captains line of vision and was met with the sight of you and a boy he knew oikawa wasn’t particularly fond of.

“why the hell is he always talking to them like that?” the brunette hissed quietly as he watched your boyfriend scold you for the nth time that day. “i don’t know, couples fight?” iwaizumi ran a hand through his dark hair and leant off the lockers to stand straight. “if i was dating them we wouldn’t fight.” oikawa scoffed as the two watched on from a distance. the argument wasn’t severe enough for the pair to feel like they had the right to intervene; so they didn’t.

the boys watched as you and your boyfriend walked out of sight and towards the exit of the school before iwaizumi huffed and pat his friends shoulder to move him along for practice. the captain was silent during the walk to the boys changing rooms as he thought back to the many times he’d seen you fed up at the hands of your nagging boyfriend. he wasn’t sure why you wouldn’t just break up with him, but iwaizumi was always quick to remind him that it was none of his business, but today was the final straw.

oikawa tooru was about to make it his business.

practice went by as it always did and oikawa found himself sat on his bed, phone in his hand with your empty chat history on his screen. he knew it was wrong, he didn’t want to be known as a home wrecker, but was it really home wrecking if there was clearly no home in your relationship to begin with? you deserved better, and oikawa was better.

he stalled before typing wanting to be cautious with his words. he’d never really had to message anyone first in a romantic aspect. people clung to him everywhere he went so he never had to make the first move. oikawa made a silent prayer of thanks to whichever god had blessed him with both looks and charm because the anxiousness out of having to make the first move he was feeling right now wasn’t something he was sure he’d ever be able to get used to. ‘this is probably how mattsun and makki have to live.’ the setter thought as a flash of sympathy struck him momentarily before turning his attention back to his phone.

having no experience with making the first move, oikawa decided being blunt was the best approach. it would be easier to get straight forward answers from you right from the start.

‘you got a boyfriend?’

he pressed send and switched off his phone and refused to open it back up again until at least five minutes after your reply. his sister had taught him that overly eager men came across as desperate and one thing oikawa would never allow himself to be known as was desperate, especially when he knew deep down he was desperate for one person; you.

ten minutes went by before his phone lit up and the boy immediately went to view the new notification on his lock screen.

‘i do.’

your reply bothered him. your boyfriend didn’t deserve the title. not with the way he treated you anyway.

oikawa decided four minutes was long enough to wait before replying. still going for the blunt and clear approach, he made his frustrations clear in his next reply.

‘i’ll find him a new one. i want you.’

his heart slammed against his chest. was he too forward? perhaps, but he meant it. he wanted you and he was sure he could’ve had you a long time ago if only he was faster than the loser who now undeservingly had the title of your boyfriend.

his nerves didn’t settle for the next few minutes and he knew they wouldn’t settle until he got your reply. he had an inkling he’d scared you off, made you feel a little uncomfortable but he didn’t want that. you deserved someone who’d treat you right, shower you with nothing but utter love and admiration. you deserved him and considering the time he’d waited and masses of people he’d rejected during that wait; he deserved you.

his breath hitched as his phone screen lit up once more.

‘his type is academics who are shorter than him and like to listen. find one that fits that description and then we’ll talk about me being yours.’

oikawa smiled before pulling up his long list of followers to go through. he’d make sure to find at least eight of this guys specific type tonight.

[stargazer-dreamer]

Ghostbox

character: reigen arataka

reader: gender neutral

content warnings: none

notes: also on ao3. 2k word count. unreliable narrator

Reigen thinks it’s only appropriate, for a business, to branch out and follow the latest trends—to come up with new ways to put himself, and his name, and his office out there. Yes, he’s stood out on the street and handed out flyers, made a website, shot peace signs at passing cameras, but he still found that business was slow lately, boringly so; only emails and articles to fill the time.

He decides to download a dating app.

You haven't dated since high school—and even then, it was a bit of a fruitless endeavor. At your age, you have a handful of friends you’ve hung on to since your younger years, but you found there was no room to form new friendships; what with work taking up most of your time and energy. And sure, you’ve gone out for drinks with your coworkers and attended several work functions, but it was more out of obligation than any real attempt at looking to grow closer.

There was no room for a romantic angle in any of your current relationships. You didn’t want that. Even in your online communities, there wasn’t really anyone you were interested with in that type of manner, content to stay as just friends, just acquaintances, coworkers and space-sharers.

So you tried the popular dating app. At the least, you’ve exchanged several messages with people, but nothing ever came out of them; there’s been the occasional talks of potentially meeting up here and there, but they would suddenly ghost you when the prospect actually came up, messages left on read and chatboxes dead.

You entertained the idea of finally finding the person you’ve been searching for, swiping left and right during breaks and curled up in bed for weeks, months on end; slowly and slowly coming to terms with the fact that dating apps were just a waste of time, only for the occasional hookup, only for a quick fuck.

And then you matched with him.

“The greatest psychic of the twenty-first century,” as his bio put it, was an account seemingly run by a real person—but it appeared that he was only there to promote his sketchy-sounding business, based on the wording of the rest of his bio; advertising and proposing various menu options.

He probably likes every profile that comes up, you think as you liked his, just to see what would happen; tired, and jaded, and very much wanting to go to bed. This Reigen Arataka, with his goofy selfie for an icon and an album full of poorly-shot photos of what must be his office, and handshakes, and a map leading from the nearest station.

You scanned his bio again. Seances, and purification techniques, and apparently specialty items and charms—but you didn’t want to copy and paste the website typed at the bottom, didn’t want to see what he sold for what price. You only wanted to roll over and charge your phone.

Sure enough, the notification saying the two of you had matched popped up, prompting you to message him.

He beat you to it.

[[ hello!! ]]

[[ it appears we have found each other. ]]

In the chatbox, you simply stared. Letters encased in emojis, smiley faces and waving hands; you weren’t sure what to say. He must have seen that you’ve seen.

[[ i’ll get straight to the chase. i run the Spirits and Such Consultation Office, we offer various psychic related solutions to your spiritual related problems. ]]

[[ are you interested to hear more? ]]

He didn’t give you time to answer, most likely driven by the little “read” message on his end, followed by the checkmark; prompting him, goading him, encouraging him to prattle on.

[[ of course you are!! ]]

[[ perhaps you would like a Graphic Exorcism? or a Sorcery Crush? ]]

[[ here at the Spirits and Such Consultation Office, we offer the lowest rates with the highest results!! ]]

You closed the app.

---

You didn’t know what prompted you to open up the chatbox again the following night, but you supposed you had nothing else better to do.

He had not sent another message. So, you decided to.

(( Hi ))

His reply was not immediate, but it came quicker than expected.

[[ hello!! ]]

[[ how may i help you? ]]

It was followed by an open-mouthed smiley face. Some customer service.

(( You’re a psychic? ))

[[ yes i am!! ]]

You thought of your boss.

(( Do you do curses? ))

[[ i’m afraid i don’t offer curses ]]

[[ i do offer evil repellent charms if that’s something you’re interested in ]]

It isn’t.

(( That sounds interesting. Tell me more? ))

---

[[ how was your day? ]]

(( My back still hurts ))

You were in bed, with a pillow shoved underneath you in a way that strained your neck but supported your back. You were both off work, retired for the day and chatting the night away.

You don’t know how your conversations turned into this—less selling on his end and more genuine intrigue on yours. You started messaging him during your breaks at work, and he wasn’t always able to respond right away—he has his own business to attend to, after all—but he always replied by the end of the day, answering your questions and responding to your rising curiosity.

It was him who offered to exchange numbers, one day, out of the blue. You would have given it to him freely, had you worked up the courage faster. It was also him who had sent the first selfie, him and his goofy face, unprompted, sitting at his desk, blurry, endearing, in the middle of your lunch break. You had sent one back and he appraised your looks.

You entertained the idea.

(( Maybe the office is haunted. Can spirits follow you back home? ))

[[ yes!! ]]

[[ an evil spirit might be following you home and haunting your poor back. ]]

[[ i could help with that. ]]

[[ perhaps you could go for my super special Aroma Runaway Express technique? ]]

It was followed by a winky face—it made it sound suggestive. You didn’t know how to reply, hot suddenly in the face. Perhaps lower, as well.

[[ sorry. ]]

[[ it’s a massage. ]]

[[ it involves scented oils and soothing incense. it’s meant to help people relax.]]

[[ there’s himalayan rock salt involved as well. ]]

[[ it expels evil spirits, of course. ]]

[[ that’s what it’s actually meant for. ]]

[[ relaxation is just an added bonus. ]]

Oh. You took a moment to reply, retyping and editing your message. You wondered if he was watching—the floating dots appearing and disappearing at infrequent intervals; your indecisiveness closing in on you.

Finally.

(( I would like that ))

---

Of course you believed in spirits—the gods dwell in the mountains, the rivers, the trees. You used to pray to Tenjin every year during your school breaks. You would be a fool not to believe. If only Ebisu would bless you…

Of course you believed in spirits. That’s what you told yourself as you stared up at the sign of the Spirits and Such Consultation Office. It was located on a building like many others—housing various other businesses and small establishments.

It wasn’t like any other building. This building held Reigen.

Taking the stairs, you realized you didn’t know if you should knock or simply just walk on in. You decided to knock.

The man who opened the door was not Reigen. This man was too big, too small, much too awkward in his stance to be the man behind the messages. In your confusion, you searched for straw drenched in honey, but found only black, curling at the edges and chocolate where the light hit it.

You tried to catch his eyes, dark and fleeting, before he gestured into the room with a stiff hand, arm weak.

“Come, uh, come in!”

Some couches awaited you, a table nestled between, and a television further ahead. You turned the corner.

There he was. Laptop closed and his hands intertwined together on his desk. At the sight of you, his eyebrows shot up towards his hairline, like he forgot something, and he almost tripped getting up from his seat. But then he was there suddenly in front of you and he was the same as in the poster on the wall behind you.

The first thing you noticed was that his blazer was too big. Then was his tie, like the last dregs of sunset encased in silver. Your eyes went lower, to his narrow waist. You supposed you were staring.

“Hello!” He looked like it was scalding inside the walls. Maybe it was. “Would you like to sit down? Have some tea? Or—perhaps you would like to get started? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He swallowed, audible, a finger underneath the collar of his tie. Maybe he was the man at the door, after all. “The—massage.”

You nodded. “The Aroma Runaway Express.”

The actual man at the door—the one with the curling hair and the broad shoulders—spoke up from his place near the door. “So! You’re the appointment we’ve been waiting for! Don’t worry! Master Reigen—I’ll get the room ready!”

And with that, he shuffled around you and Reigen, and the couch, and the desk, into a separate door, closing it behind him, and leaving you alone with the greatest psychic of the twenty-first century.

“Well,” Reigen muttered under his breath to himself—but it was so quiet, so suddenly, that you couldn’t help but overhear him. “At least he’s finally taking initiative.” Then he clapped his hands together, once, and gestured rather weirdly to the couches beside you. “I guess we’ll have time for some tea, after all. Please,” his voice dipped, lower, pleasant, smiles and closed eyes. “Have a seat.”

---

His office was bigger than your entire apartment. You wondered how much it costs—you could set up your entire life in a room this big. It wasn’t large by any means, but it was spacious. Bigger than your place with it’s tiny kitchenette settled in the entrance, and it’s single room, and cramped loft.

You wished you were in your loft, curled inside your blanket, phone on the lowest brightness setting, messaging the man seated in front of you, instead of sitting there in front of him.

What am I doing here? Why did I come?

You’ve never met up with someone you only knew online before. You sipped your tea and thought—it’s hot in here. This was Reigen’s office. During his business hours. You were here for a massage. Because of the spirit, you remembered. The spirit that’s haunting me.

Reigen agreed to give you his super special technique, Aroma Runaway Express, and it involves Himalayan rock salt, and incense, and scented oils. Serizawa was preparing the room. He’s taking an awfully long time.

Reigen, for his part, seemed to have cooled off. He adjusted his tie—like the furthest reaches of the sky at sundown—and crossed a leg over his knee. He hadn’t touched his tea, telling you about his uneventful day, what he did to pass the time, what he had for lunch. There hadn’t been any clients.

“Besides you, of course,” he ended it with a swipe at his bangs, strawberry blond, molten. His suit was like rocks, climbing towards the sun.

This was a business transaction. He’ll rub you down, and you’ll go home, and that’ll be that.

What am I doing here? Why did I come?

Serizawa emerged from the side room. “Everything’s ready.”

Reigen was on his feet, fluid, rising like the tide. “Alright!” He clapped again, once, twice, and moved his hands at the front of him. He turned towards his assistant. “You can go home now, Serizawa. I’ll be closing up after this.”

The man looked relieved. “Oh! Thank you, sir! If you’re sure…” but he scurried off, quickly gathering his things and stopping at the front door. He lingered. “Oh!” he looked at you. “Thank you for coming in today! If you’ll excuse me…” And then he was gone.

You sat in silence. A millennium passed.

Slowly, silently, Reigen made his way to the front door. You heard the lock click. You saw him turn the closed sign. He stood there for a moment, hand on the plastic sign, pressed against the door, and saw his shoulders move underneath the large jacket. A millennium more passed. Then he made his way back over to you at an amble pace, aqueous, hands in his pockets, step after languid step, right in front of you.

He had a narrow waist. You moved your eyes up, higher, hot suddenly in the face. Perhaps lower, as well. Maybe you were the rocks.

He extended a hand. “Come on,” the window at his back drew shadows across his face, dark and unknown, like the deepest depths of the sea. “I’ll make you feel good.”

You took his hand and drowned.