#i feel like i’ve definitely seen better edits like this but i can’t remember from who so sorry besties

[hdmiports]

carlie’s nighttime routine

[concreteangel92]

Fine line Between love And Hate

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

MASTERLIST

Warnings: mean dom!Noah, sub/dom relationship, spanking, spitting, slapping, degrading, oral (male receiving) PiV, bad language

This request is right up my street ahaha I love me a bit of mean Noah, especially when it leads to something better 😏 I hope you enjoy this, definitely turned out longer then I planned but I couldn’t stop writing haha

Also the new photo of him was perfect for this 🥵🥵

“You really are one arrogant cunt aren’t you!”

“What the fuck did you just call me?!”

You couldn’t help yourself, he just brought out a rage within you, ever since you started working for Bad Omens, Noah Sebastian Davis just got right under your skin.

“You deaf as well as stupid?!”

You were old friends with Bryan and jumped at the opportunity to come work along side him as the second videographer for the band. Everything seemed to be going great when you went out on the road, you took some incredible shots and edited together some amazing videos for the bands social media which was a huge hit with the fans. You got on with the rest of the crew and the band….all except one.

It seemed from the moment you met Noah, he took an instant dislike towards you, and he wasn’t shy about making it known. Noah would roll his eyes when you spoke, took digs at you whenever he could, make comments about how the bands videos ‘could be better’ or ‘they aren’t our style’.

It was exhausting constantly feeling like you were at war with Noah, no matter how nice you had tried to be, he still treated you like shit, so you started doing it back, which only fuelled him more.

Today this argument had started over something stupid, you couldn’t even remember at this point, you were both back stage, most of the crew had gone out for a late lunch as everything was now set up for the show later tonight so you were alone. Noah was following behind you as you stormed into the green room to grab your bag, you were so riled up that you just couldn’t hold back anymore, so you called him what he was, an arrogant cunt.

And you’ve never seen him look so mad.

“You better be really fucking careful taking that way to me”

You laughed in his face.

“Why? What the hell are you going to do to me? You can’t fault me on my work at all, I’ve been nothing but a great employee! I tried to be so nice to you, I even looked forward to meeting you originally but you are nothing but a fucking cocky asswipe that loves the sound of his own voice. I give up with you because nothing I do is going to please you!”

The next thing you knew, you felt Noah’s hands grab onto your face and pulled you into a hard kiss, his body pushing into yours and you could feel how hard he was against you.

“Will you shut the fuck up already! Ever since Bryan brought you here, you have been all I can fucking think about! You are driving me insane and it’s infuriating, and you aren’t scared of talking back to me and the one thing that I constantly think about is how I want nothing more than to put you in your fucking place!”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Noah’s hand grab hold of your hair and pulled you back in, it was hard and dominating and everything you could have hoped for.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me and get on your knees and show me how sorry you are for running that pretty mouth of yours”

Hearing him calling you a good girl had definitely flipped a switch in your brain, the sub within you fully coming to the surface.

You fell onto your knees and undone his trousers to help pull him out, your mouth watering at the sight. He was hard and heavy in your hand, you gave him a couple strokes before leaning forward and running your tongue along him causing him to groan from above you.

Noah’s hands gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail, you wrapped your lips around his tip and then sucked down on him hard, his hips jolting forward as you did.

“Fuck, just like that”

You started to bob your head up and down on him while using your tongue to swirl around and tease his head, one of your hands came up to grab him at the base to help simulate what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth and your other hand gently massage his balls.

Noah wasn’t shy in letting out his groans as you worked him up, you felt his hips start to move and his grip in your hair became tighter as he used your mouth, feeling your eyes water as he hit the back of your throat but forcing yourself to relax into his movements as you carried on sucking him off.

“Fuck…look at you…not so back chatty now are we?”

You moaned around him as he spoke down to you, tears ran down your cheeks and you felt your saliva dripping down your chin. You were so turned on from his reactions that you couldn’t help but reach down to try and relieve the ache in between your legs, something that Noah clearly didn’t like.

“Don’t you fucking dare”

Noah immediately pulled you off of him and back up into a standing position, still towering over you of course. You weren’t prepared for the light smack that Noah planted across your cheek.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?”

You shook your head, your body tingling in anticipation of what he was going to do.

*Light smack*

“I can’t hear you”

“No sir”

Noah smirked at the nickname and stroked the cheek he had just slapped.

“That’s better baby, now open your mouth”

You did without hesitation and moaned as Noah spat onto your tongue.

“Swallow it”

You did as commanded, your eyes never leaving his.

“That’s my good girl, I knew that mouth could be put to better use”

Noah then walked you back until you hit the sofa and he turned you around so you were bent over it. He pushed your leather skirt up over your hips, ripped your fishnet tights apart and moved your underwear to the side before you felt him lining himself up and teasing your folds.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this”

You jumped when Noah spanked your ass before gripping it hard.

“You have the most spankable ass baby, no wonder I’ve not been able to concentrate on anything”

You pushed yourself back onto him as he started to slip himself in. You shut your eyes as you felt him stretch you open, the slight burning sensation only adding to how good you felt.

“Noah…”

You felt his hand run down your spine as he let you adjust to his size, you felt yourself clenching around him.

“It’s like you were made for me…fuck…you feel incredible”

Noah spanked your ass again before he started to move, he set up a fast, relentless pace that had you practically screaming for him.

You gripped onto the sofa, your thighs shaking as Noah ruined you, you had no idea how it had got to this but you were so glad it had.

Noah continued his brutal pace, hitting something deep inside you, you felt so used by him but in the most sinful way, you wish you could see what he looked like as you bet he looked beautiful. You felt his hands on your hips, pulling you back into him hard.

“This pussy was made for me, who does it belong to?”

You cried out at his words, not being able to form a coherent sentence until you felt yet another smack on your backside.

“I asked you a question angel”

You arched your back as he carried on thrusting into you.

“Yours Noah, fuck….I’m all yours”

Noah groaned deep from within his chest as his hips faulted at your words. His hand wrapped itself in your hair and brought you back into his chest, the new angle making your head spin deliciously.

You felt Noah’s free hand work its way in between your legs and he started to rub fast circles onto your clit, causing your stomach to twist up beautifully tight.

“Cum for me, that’s it, be a good girl and cum for me”

Hearing his words mixed with his expert touch was all it took to send you over the edge, you cried out and arched back into him as your orgasm washed over you in hot waves, Noah holding onto you and working you through it until his hips stilled and he emptied himself into you.

You both tried to catch your breath as you leant into the sofa, moaning as he pulled out of you slowly and leaving you feeling empty and your legs like jelly.

Noah kissed your shoulder and moved your underwear and skirt back in place before fixing his own clothes and turning you around to face him.

You felt your cheeks burn under his intense gaze, he leant down and gave you a gentle kiss, a far cry from the dominant persona you’d just experienced.

“Have I ever mentioned that you drive me crazy?”

You giggled and kissed him again.

“I’m definitely getting that impression”

Noah smiled down at you.

“So….can I take you out for dinner?”

[zhongrin]

weathering

◇ characters ◇ husband!zhongli, baby!xiao

◇ tags ◇ afab!reader, fem!pronouns, mention & implication of pregnancy (reader), children, xiao (tries) to call you “mama”, angst to fluff, heartwarming domestic fluff

◇ a/n ◇ last submission for my ᴇʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ϟᴜᴘᴇʀᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇ collab

disclaimer: i don’t have a child, and i won't pretend i know how it feels to have one. this won’t be 100% accurate. however - i have first-hand lived with one and witnessed the calmest person on earth snap from all the stress that is caused by child-rearing, so…

𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

[ 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ]

you think you and zhongli make for a harmonious couple.

if you were asked to describe your relationship in a word, you would choose ‘steady’. it has always felt as such ever since you were friends, stayed as it is when you started courting each other, throughout your stage of falling in love with each other’s flaws and strengths, and persisted through your engagement and your newlywed stage.

of course, you’ve had fights - from petty ones that make you roll your eyes in exasperation, to bigger ones that made you temporarily move out to your friend’s house for several days to reevaluate your relationship, you had them all. they all ended in the same way, every single time: reconciliation, deep conversations, promises to do better, and tons of affection to make up for the lost time. your relationship is most definitely not perfect, but you’d like to think that it’s healthy and open and, as quoted by your friends, “couple goals”.

but nothing that you’ve experienced so far prepared you for the hectic, sleepless, and insanely stressful life that is being a parent.

and to think you thought pregnancy was the worst. ha ha.

“- he doesn't want to eat, he doesn’t want to see me, he doesn’t want to see you, he doesn’t want his stories, his diaper is clean - i just - i don’t know what to do!”

you had to shout into the phone, seeing as your baby is quite literally screeching his head off in the background, the shrill sound further amplifying your stress headache and breaking your tired heart.

your husband hums in affirmation over the phone, and the background sound of people talking from his side suddenly disappeared. normally, you would have felt bad at interrupting his meetings, especially since you know it’s vital for him to be there, but you’re too far gone at this point - your patience has its limit and it seems like you’ve reached the bottom of the bar.

“calm down, dear.”

“how am i supposed to calm down?! i’ve never seen him throwing this kind of tantrum!! what if - what if something’s wrong - should i go to the doctor? i can’t tell if he has a fever, his whole face is so red and i can’t even touch him because the last time i tried he screamed harder and choked and i was so scared i-”

“[name].”

“i don’t know what to do,” you sob, tears falling down your cheeks, “i can’t do this anymore…”

“of course you can. listen to me, love. everything is going to be okay.”

“will it though?”

“of course. i’m here too. let us tackle this problem together, just like how we always do.”

“….. okay…”

“thank you, dearest. did you try giving him his dragon plushie?”

“he threw it across the living room.”

“hm. strong arms, like his father.”

you sniffle and laugh weakly at his words.

“maybe he missed menogias?”

“their family is on vacation right now,” you wince when xiao throws another one of his soft toys - a limited edition spear gifted by your husband’s friend who runs the biggest toy factory in the whole country - successfully knocking over the untouched bowl of food you made for him before.

another thing to put in the washer, another ruined food, another thing to clean up. wonderful.

“ah, i remember. australia, i believe. i heard it’s magpies season. hopefully they’re staying safe from the birds.”

“who cares about that right no-” you pause.

“….. dear? what’s wrong?” zhongli’s concerned voice snaps your attention back to the phone momentarily.

still keeping your gaze on your son, whose wide golden eyes are also looking straight at you, you whisper into the gadget, as if you’re afraid he’d go back to crying the moment you said something, “he stopped crying.”

“…… xiao?”

the boy blinks and switches his stare at your phone silently, where the voice of his father is addressing him from.

“do you want to talk with daddy?”

his nose scrunches and despite knowing it’s not zhongli’s fault, you snapped at your husband, “no! no he doesn't!!!”

“ah,” another hum, “then, perhaps a keyword… australia? magpie? safe?”

xiao's golden eyes narrow. you whisper a soft ‘no’.

“birds?”

like magic, your son’s expression lights up like a christmas tree. within seconds, he’s waddling towards you, latching onto your leg, teary eyes staring up at you in expectation. you’re sitting still on the dining chair in shock. literally minutes ago he did not want you to touch him at all.

“is that not it?”

“i…. no, i think….,” you hurriedly wiped your tears away and abandoned the phone on the table in favor of hoisting the toddler up to your lap, “birds? you…. you want to see the birds?”

xiao blinks one, twice, and then nods.

you sigh in relief as you wiped the tear tracks on his chubby cheeks. zhongli chuckles.

“will you be alright now, my dear?”

“ah…. yes. i think so.”

“alright. skip the cooking for us tonight, i’ll come back early with your favorites. i love y-”

a small sweaty palm punches your phone’s screen, effectively disconnecting the call. you give the young boy an unimpressed look. he looks back at you innocently before starting to suck on his thumb.

your house resides on one of the higher terrains, along with a great view of the lakes and forests in the distance. this, fortunately, means that you have a lot of trees and birds for your little one’s viewing pleasure. the moment you step out onto the balcony of your second story’s bedroom, xiao starts to bounce excitedly within your arms before settling down, eyes transfixed on the group of avians perched by the nearby trees.

“bub?”

“……,” you exhale shakily, chants the name of the deities above inside your head, and gives him a shaky, weak smile, “yes, love. those are birds.”

[ 𝑔𝑒𝑜 ]

your doorbell chimes right as xiao accepted the first mouthful of his dinner. the toddler glares towards the direction of the front door, as if silently saying ‘who dares to disturb my meal’, and you chortle in amusement.

“coming!”

after giving a few pats on top of his dark-colored hair, you’re immediately running towards the front door in record speed, intent to turn away whatever salesman you have on the front steps by slamming the door on their face if you have to, because your baby needs his food, darn it.

cautiously, you squint through the peephole.

the sight makes you frown in bewilderment.

instead of some slimy-looking salesman, outside stood your husband in his immaculate work clothes, waiting to be let in like some kind of a lost puppy.

did he forget his key, perhaps? you chuckle in amusement. knowing how often he forgets his wallet, it’s only a matter of time until he forgets his keys, you suppose. with that in mind, you unlock the latches and open the door, a greeting at the tip of your tongue-

the sweet scent of flowers envelops your scent and the entirety of your sight, and you find yourself staring down at a massive bouquet of flowers, tastefully arranged, all freshly bloomed with no single imperfection on their colorful petals and trimmed stems.

“…… huh?”

zhongli chuckles, finding the lost expression on your face endearing. your hands might have instinctively accepted the gift, but it appears your brain has yet to catch up with your body.

“i’m home, dear.”

“w-welcome home? but what-”

“can’t a husband spoil his wife without any reason every now and then?”

“yes? no? i mean-” you want to hit yourself for stumbling and bumbling around like some kind of a high schooler in love, and the entertained laugh from your husband makes you smile in both embarrassment and the sudden happiness that enveloped your whole being. despite already being married, the follow-up kiss to your cheek makes your heart jump and your grin widen.

“may i come in now, dearest?”

you eye your husband with a huff and arch your eyebrows coyly, “hmm. persuade me.”

zhongli doesn’t even hesitate or look surprised at your antics, merely sporting the same gentle smile as he places a proper kiss on your lips this time. now you’re actually giggling like a high school girl, and yet your partner isn’t even fazed, soft lips tracing your jawline, fingers brushing back your hair-

a loud clatter makes the both of you jump, and you would have been touched by the instinctive hold zhongli immediately has on your arm, if not for the sight of disaster in your peripherals.

xiao has, somehow, reached onto the plate of food you set aside for him, and while you were both reliving your honeymoon dating phase (not that you've ever grown completely out of it, according to your friends), had taken the liberty to try and shove the food onto his mouth with his own hands…. keyword here being ‘try’.

the bowl of food lays sadly on the floor, its content spilled against the white tiles.

within seconds, your son starts crying, and the two of you scramble to tag team the situation; with you tending to xiao and zhongli tending to the flowers and locking up the door.

right. gone were the long relaxing beach walks and uninterrupted sweet moments.

….. and yet, as you’re cleaning up the food spills around the baby chair and catch the sight of your now-husband silently patting a sleepy little boy whose belly is now full of food, you think that this kind of life too, has its own unique moments of happiness.

[ 𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑚𝑜 ]

“maa…”

you feel a tug on your hair and groan.

“mah….?”

your eyes squint, heavy eyelids struggling to open, something within you forces you to push through it. wake up, your instinct says. your brain lags, and it’s so easy to just fall back asleep, but-

“maaaaaa!!!”

you sit up at record speed, vision bleary yet immediately alerted at the piercingly loud noise and familiar voice of your baby. instinctively, your arms gather the smaller body of the toddler despite the exhaustion weighing your whole being.

“mmah.”

“yes, baby. mama’s he-” tiny hands push your cheek away and you frown, feeling a little hurt by the rejection, “okay, okay… what is it, xiao?”

he wrestles away from your hug and points at the vase of flowers sitting on the dining table. though the blooms aren't as fresh as the first day you got them from your beloved, they’re still a magnificent sight. not to mention that the size of the bouquet made you separate the flowers into three big vases, and this was just one of them. you understand that your child might be fascinated with the new additional decor to the house, but you really doubt he could carry the whole thing by himself… plus, that sounds very dangerous.

“no no. let’s find another thing to play with, okay, dear?”

xiao gives you a look and stubbornly points towards the flowers again, now slightly frowning.

“no.”

“mahm!”

you sigh, rubbing your temples in exasperation before standing up to approach the table. your little boy follows right behind you, all the while observing your movements, waiting for you to fetch what he wants.

hesitantly, you hold onto the vase in your arms. they’re big. heavy. made of glass. what if it shatters? what if he grabs one of the flowers and they weren’t pruned properly? what if he accidentally stabs himself in the eye with one of the stems??

you really shouldn’t….

xiao latches insistently on your leg, doe eyes looking up at you in excitement.

“gihb!”

with a defeated sigh, you place back the vase onto the table, take one small flower, and give it to your child. he whines and points back to the arrangement on the table. you reluctantly give him two more flowers, slightly bigger than the previous one.

“no more.”

he holds them in his hands and stares at them for a while.

you think he’s going to ask for more, so you opt to sit down on the floor, grabbing the nearest storybook and patting your lap in an invitation, “now that you have the flowers, why don’t you hold them while mama reads you your book, hmm?”

to your utmost befuddlement, instead of obeying, your son looks up at you and lifts the flowers up, before staring at you expectantly.

you smile through the confusion and accept his offering anyway, and you were about to thank him when he determinedly kicks the book away and climbs onto your lap-

-to place a kiss onto your cheek.

....

........

oh.

“are you-” you choke on your words, already feeling tears gathering in your eyes, “-sweetheart, were you trying to copy your father…?”

xiao frowns, seemingly unable to comprehend why you’re not reacting as he expected…. and decides to kiss your other cheek. only, this makes you tear up even more. and he does not like that.

“maamh….”

“oh no no nono darling i’m sorry, mommy’s not sad, not at all!”

you carelessly wipe your tears away when xiao’s nose scrunches, the first sign of tears already showing in his bright-colored eyes. gently, you pull him into a hug and squish his chubby cheeks, peppering loving kisses all over his face with a chest full of warmth and unimaginable joy. the toddler squeaks and squirms on your hold, but you continue to coddle him with affection, for the happy giggles bubbling from his throat clearly reflect his true feelings.

later that night, you tell your husband about the endearing moment, and he laughs in amusement before asking the boy if he could get a flower too.

he gets a freshly laundered spear toy thrown at his knees.

you’ve never felt so smug in your life.

[ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 ]

weathering - the breaking down or dissolving of rocks and minerals on earth’s surface. or in some cases: a phenomenon where strong gusts of wind eventually shape the valley of rocks to create a beautiful and wondrous sight.

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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[1moreff-creator]

Firstly, as always, good luck with the David video Secondly however, I would like to know your thoughts on the hidden text that can be seen when you inspect the about page on the DRDT Tumblr. I saw it on a Youtube community post and I honestly thought it was fake for a while because no one said where it could be seen, and I only now found out that it's in the about page. I have seen literally no one on Tumblr analyze it so I wanted to know your thoughts on it. Thank you !

Hey! Thanks for the usual well wishes! I’ve edited comfortably past the halfway point of the script by now, so hopefully my suffering will end soon! It only took… like an hour and a bit to get to the halfway point! Haha… ha…

Anyways, About page text. Yeah, it’s a weird one, there’s a reason there’s not much discussion around it. It’s hard to point down exactly what it means, but I do have some things to say about it. I was actually already thinking of making a post about it, so this is a good excuse :v

Anyways, a fair bit of my interpretation come from a lot of other posts around Tumblr, but there are a few things I want to bring to the table, especially regarding the mastermind’s feelings towards the killing game and the potential connection between the DRDT mastermind and Mukuro Ikusaba. Sure, that sounds insane enough for my average post.

CW: Murder, mentions of starving

So here’s the About page text for the uninitiated:

“You don’t understand, do you? I used to be like you. I barely remember, but I used to be like you. I cared so much about people, I cried everytime someone was hurt. I suffered for a long time stuck in here caring about people." "I know what you’re going through. You’re going to hold on as long as you have, with hope that you can make it out of here with everyone. Then you’re going to despair. That lasts a while, too." "Then you’ll get bored. Like me." "And you’ll wish you were still suffering. Anything else is better than boredom." "I wish I could feel something, anything else, other than being bored. I’m stuck in here for eternity, and I know everything that could possibly happen. I know how everyone reacts to a murder, what makes people turn to despair, what fills people with hope and make them survive until we all run out of food and starve to death." "I wish I could feel terrified, or afraid, or angry. But I can’t anymore. I don’t feel anything at all except boredom." "Do you understand, Teacher?" "This is why I’m letting you suffer as long as possible. Because it’s better than the alternative." "I’m sorry. I don’t envy you." "You’ll understand eventually.”

As you can see, it’s pretty weird. You got some character monologuing to some “Teacher” about hope and despair and boredom, saying they can predict what everyone’s gonna do and feel and how that makes everything boring.

This definitely makes them sound a lot like Junko, and the connection is certainly clear. They both hate boredom with a burning passion and are able to easily predict people’s actions and feelings. But there’s actually one crucial line we have to keep in mind which separates them:

“I don’t envy you.”

The character speaking doesn’t enjoy despair, they only prefer it over boredom. This separates them from Junko herself, who does explicitly enjoy despair even without factoring in her hatred for boredom. Keep this in mind, I’ll bring it up later.

But what’s most important about this character, is that they’re likely not a DRDT character, but rather the protagonist of “Forever Dead”, the book Veronika talks about in her introduction. Take a look at how she describes it (and sorry the screenshots aren’t perfect, the text flashes too quickly).

Veronika: Oh oh oh! Speaking of horror, let me tell you about the horror bookI'm currently reading! It's called Forever Dead! You see, it's about a boy stuck in a time loop and forced to watch his friends die for eternity. While he is horrified at first, he eventually becomes more concerned over his growing boredom in t[he face of the] terrible tragedies because he sees them over and over again. The book is written like a normal autobiography at first, but as the protagonist descends into insanity over time, the writin[g style] starts to fall apart and take on a more sinister tone. Format twists like that are so fascinating, don't you think? Honestly, I would really love to know just how it feels to be in his shoes and experience something so horrible over and over and over again. And then, my favorite scene in the book, is one time he's impaled by many metal spikes and left to slowly bleed to death while he's left c[ontemplating] his thoughts. He's forced to apologize for everything he did... while... he... um... ohh..."

“Forever Dead” (FD) is a completely fictional book, as in, it doesn’t exist in real life. You can actually tell because it isn’t censored the way the dev usually censors real things, like A****a C*****e’s name [Agatha Christie]. So if it was made up specifically for DRDT, that would imply it holds some significance.

And you can see a lot of the same ideas as in the About page text. A character who ends up becoming bored of their environment, turning to unethical acts to entertain themselves. But what’s really striking is the repeated mention of the “Teacher” in the About page text.

(Is that a Rei Mekaru reference?!)

There… really isn’t a DRDT character who would be called that. I’ve seen it related to Mai before, and while the teacher could be an allegory for Mai, it can’t literally be her. Mai is a student, and not a particularly academically gifted one at that; she’s not anyone’s teacher. The only other person who could apply is the teacher Min is implied to have had at the end of her Bonus Episode, but… like, what would that mean. Why is he important?

No, I think it makes more sense to assume this is related to Forever Dead. That would also explain why the character claims to be “stuck for all eternity” even though they know what to do to make everyone “survive until [they] all run out of food and starve.” And also because of a little theory-bordering-on-headcanon I have.

Don’t you think it’s strange how the character uses the word “Teacher”? People in the US, to my knowledge, don’t speak like that. I believe they use “Mr/Ms/Mx [Name]” or something like that. So, could this be an in-universe translation quirk? For example, if “Forever Dead” is originally Japanese, the character could actually be saying “Sensei”, which I think is more common, and is sometimes directly translated to “Teacher” even though it sounds a bit weird in English. I personally love this idea because it conjures up the frankly amusing idea of the dev making up not a book in English, but a book translated to English from Japanese just for shits and giggles.

Anyways, rambling aside, the point stands. I think this is a (fictional) quote from (the fictional book) “Forever Dead.” So what does it mean for DRDT?

Well, seeing as it’s literally in the About page, it’s likely closely linked to the very nature of the killing game, right? It makes sense to assume we’re meant to relate the mastermind to this quote. The attitude is mastermind-y, the actions are mastermind-y, the context is mastermind-y, we’re calling mastermind.

But wait. Since this Forever Dead protagonist constantly speaks of boredom, doesn’t that instantly relate them to Veronika?

Well, yes.

…

But… it’s Veronika. It would honestly be weirder if something related to the mastermind doesn’t link back to her. She’s the biggest mastermind bait I’ve ever seen, and unless she has an early reveal, I don’t quite see her as the mm (I’ll just start shortening it).

Other theories have also connected it to Whit’s intuition. I find these interesting, and about as plausible as any other good mastermind theory. However, since the “boredom < despair” angle is something which I feel is quite intuitive for the average DR fan who knows anything about Junko and Izuru, I actually want to dive a bit deeper into what the connection between the mm and the Forever Dead protagonist could mean, since that’s an angle I’ve seen explored less often.

For one, there’s the time loop thing. Now, I don’t believe DRDT takes place in an actual time loop, but I think there’s an argument that there is a repetition of events at play. As in, things which happened in the past, and are repeating in the present.

Yes I’m talking about the pre-prologue cutscene.

... Fuck!! Fuck, fuck, fuck, this really hurts... Ouch... I really wasn't expecting her to attack me like that. I made a massive mistake to trust them. I can't rely on anyone. All by myself... I have to end the killing game. And even if I can't do that... I have to kill Teruko Tawaki. No matter what.

I’ve talked about it before, but as a refresher: that fork with blood on it implies whoever is speaking got attacked with the fork, which fits Xander’s eye injury suspiciously closely.

(Believe it or not, the David MV might have an allusion to it as well but I am not getting into that)

So if Xander is the one speaking, if you think about it, it must mean he was involved in a killing game previous to the one we see in DRDT. Which, in fact, Teruko may have some vague memories of.

Teruko: And also, as a way to reference that "past killing game," right?

That could be about the THH killing game, which frankly sorta makes more sense in context, but seeing as Veronika then claims nothin like a killing game had happened before, I find it most likely that got completely erased from history.

So what’s the important thing here? Well, for one, if Xander’s eye injury came from a previous killing game, then we are definitely not talking about an actual time loop, as that would have erased his eye injury. However, it could be talking about a repetition of events. Perhaps there have been multiple killing games before this one, a la V3 but without the “fiction” aspect presumably.

This is nothing new by itself, but it does have an odd implication when related back to the About page text. Think about it, the FD protagonist doesn’t enjoy the time loop. If he could, he would end it. So if he’s meant to reflect the DRDT MM’s attitude, could this mean the mastermind doesn’t actually enjoy the killing games?

It sounds insane, but hear me out. We’ve already established the FD protag doesn’t actually enjoy despair, so if they’re meant to parallel the MM, then that could imply the MM doesn’t enjoy despair either. And if they’re being forced into the MM role repeatedly for one reason or another, the same way the FD protagonist is forced into the time loop, wouldn’t they grow bored of it, despite the despair? It’s the same thing as the FD protagonist:

“…I used to be like you. I cared so much about people, I cried everytime someone was hurt. I suffered for a long time stuck in here caring about people.”

If we apply this with the idea that “time loop” = “repeating killing games”, and that “FD protag” = “Matermind”, then what we have is a reluctant mastermind forced to go through with several killing games for reasons unknown, who only grew slightly fond of despair once they grew bored of everything else.

So, uh, there’s definitely unhinged point #1. However, there is another thing to note, the one I mentioned in the beginning. And since I mentioned it, you probably caught it. The FD protag dies the exact same way Mukuro does, and since the FD protag is connected to the DRDT MM, it’s possible there’s some connection between Mukuro and the DRDT MM. Most likely related to their mastermind-iness.

Of course, what the connection could actually be is very vague, and there’s a ton of options. Still, here’s a few possibilities I find the most interesting:

>The mastermind is a secret extra student, hiding somewhere in the school. So Mai. I don’t quite like this one since it’s sorta silly and I just don’t see Mai as the mastermind, but it is there.

>The mastermind deeply adores a loved one, and may even disguise themselves to look like this loved one. Like Mukuro does with Junko… and like Whit does with his mom. This is to appease the people who love the Whit MM theory, because I know some people are really passionate about it and it’s frankly always fun to see those people talk about it! It is also just objectively funny to always find ways to pin him as the MM imo.

>The mastermind fully disguised themselves as another person. So, Veronika = Mai crack theory. Sure, at this point.

>There are two masterminds, and one of them died early on. Basically thinking of Xander here, given the whole “kill Teruko Tawaki” thing. The second would probably have to be Mai unfortunately, so I don’t quite see it. Though I guess it could also be David, or just anyone else in the killing game for that matter, but you know.

>The mastermind faked their death. You know, we never saw Min’s corpse… So we’re off to delulu land! Min is still alive! Min is still alive! Min-!

Blatant favoritism aside, that’s pretty unlikely. I doubt the mastermind would want to straight up lose an arm in a fake execution. Though I guess if she’s a reluctant MM maybe she doesn’t get a say in the executions, so…

Min is still alive! Mind is still alive!

>There are two masterminds, and one of them is disguising as the other. This fits shockingly close to the J & Ryan double mastermind theory I swear exists somewhere on Tumblr and I’m not going insane I just can’t find the post. Essentially, the idea that Ryan and J swap places constantly, taking turns on who is the more traditional mastermind and who stays in the killing game, explaining that one time Rose seemingly didn’t recognize J in chapter 1. So two siblings, where one of them disguised as the other while the other just presents as themselves? Exactly like Mukuro and Junko.

But I feel the most grounded ideas are usually the likeliest ones, which is why I think this connection to Mukuro may simply be another way of saying the MM was manipulated/coerced into their position, instead of choosing to be the MM on their own.

It’s a less conclusive answer, but it’s less farfetched than the other ones. And it sorta fits… uh….

Well, see, I’m making a post with AUs for all possible MMs… and I kinda accidentally convinced myself Rose might be the mastermind? I might make a more detailed post about it later, but basically this more vague connection to Mukuro fits, so.

Anyways, those are all the possibilities I can think of for unhinged point #2, the connection between the MM and Mukuro. I don’t have much else to say, as I feel this is something that’s gonna make more sense as we move forward in the series.

Hope that was satisfying! Take care!

[greatcheshire]

How would you rank your vids based on how much you like them?

Ah yes!! I can answer this one

The Many Adaptations of Berserk: I feel like it has to be this one as my fav. There’s parts of the video I wish I could redo (mainly the audio), but to put out such labor of love and have it receive such a positive response back, it’s so fulfilling. From people telling me it got them into Berserk to survivors messaging me to tell me how much the video meant to them. It’s a sense of pride and accomplishment that I never thought I’d ever feel with my art.

Spider-Man Musical: This, for me, feels like the prime example of what I want my channel to be: exploring relatively obscure things in a way that shows how strange they are while also taking it seriously and really examining them. As someone who has been fascinated with this musical for over a decade, finally finding a way to make an essay about it and letting people know about things like the spider fucking and the shoe song.

Dollar Store Game Show: I wish I could redo the audio here. God I wish I could redo the audio here. That being said, I’ve always seen this as the hidden gem of my channel, and whenever I talk to other creators, chances are this is the video of mine they bring up. The Facebook conspiracy “In Motion” part might be my favorite editing gag I’ve ever done

Demo Reel: I would’ve ranked this much lower if I hadn’t rewatched it a few weeks ago for the new Demo Reel vid. Despite some first time video mistakes that I would happily fix if I could, I think the script here is really solid and could have been way worse. I get why people like this one so much. I probably would’ve been really into this video if I wasn’t the one who made it. I still can’t believe I actually got away with the Evangelion intro gag.

Kitchen Nightmares: I started outlining this video back in my college days. I rewatched it about a month ago and my main note is that it feels like a video anyone could’ve made on Kitchen Nightmares, for better or for worse, and lacks a lot of the… personal energy I like to include in these things? But I still think it’s pretty solid. I also meant to include an entire segment on Nathan For You and just… forgot to lmao oops

The Return of Demo Reel: This one is still so new that I haven’t fully processed my feelings on it. This is probably the meanest video I’ve done so far lol I wasn’t sure how much the two halves would connect together, especially since it’s the only video I’ve done so far that isn’t broken up into segments but is rather scripted as one long thing. The stinger is my second favorite stinger I’ve ever done for the channel. I’m so glad that landed for people as I almost cut it entirely lol

The Cinemassacre Backlash: It feels weird to rank this one so low. I still am proud of the result, but I also think it has the same issue as Kitchen Nightmares where it’s like oh, anyone could’ve made that. I did like getting to interject my perspective into the discourse as someone who co-writes and makes online content and I have gotten a lot of praise for this one by my peers which has been nice. Having it blow up so much was wild and has definitely been a career benefit, even if I’m unsure if I’ll ever do a video like this again

Harley and Ivy: I don’t know why but I can’t help but feel like I could’ve made this one better. I’m not sure how, but it just feels like it exists to me. I actually didn’t even remember that I did the whole thing with the Be Gay, Do Crime scale until I saw it referenced on my TV Tropes page

Lost Film About Internet Memes: This one is fine but it sits in a lower place in my head for a lot of reasons. First being that a lot of personal life stuff surrounding the release and aftermath of the video. Second being my hatred of the original thumbnail and the belief that it tanked that video in a way it’s only now recovering from, which affected future business dealings and negotiations and algorithm stuff. Then the fact that this is the only time I’ve regretted going soft in one of my videos. I originally put more stuff in the script about how I believed the guy who made it was a grifter who seems to do a lot of scams but I changed it to make it more subtext and less of a personal attack and then in the aftermath of the vid it turns out, oops, this guy had a history of screwing people over and grifting and jumped into cryptocurrency because of course he did. I don’t think I’d ever revisit this subject, but if I had a time machine, I would’ve had way more testimonials in the vid from former PopMalt people.

Existential Horror Of Making Content About Content: The nicest thing I can say about this one is that it was the first time I ever made a thumbnail myself and I’m actually pleased with how it turned out, all things considered. Otherwise I can’t see myself ever watching this again

I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m too harsh on my own work lol I just have a unique relationship to it, I think. I’m generally proud of my videos, even if I do have issues with them as their creator.

[evansbby]

I can’t remember exactly what happened with Stassi and Ariana over her brother but from what I remember, they go out to dinner and there is a little argument Ariana invalidates Stassi feelings and tries to make her feel bad for being uncomfortable (gross) and then Ariana leaves the restaurant but I can’t remember what else happened after?? It definitely not worth quitting the show because it was a super big focal point this season and it only mentioned in like maybe a couple scenes briefly outside of the dinner?? But it is brought up at the reunion by Billy but again it’s not a super long segment.

-🫧

See I just can’t stand watching that stuff where someone tells a girl whether she should feel uncomfortable or not! And Stassi always ends up backing down bc she knows she’ll get the villain edit and hate if she doesn’t! I hate how Ariana has made it her JOB to hate Stassi this season. Like Stassi never talks badly about Ariana behind her back but Ariana bitches about Stassi all the time! I try to like Ariana so bad but she’s just so irritating! I like it when all the girls get along but Ariana and Scheana are THE most opposite of girl’s girls. And i just cannot watch Tom Sandoval be awful to Stassi for no reason anymore. Like she’s so nice to him whenever they talk and all he does is talk shit about her??? Literally without Tom Sandoval, Ariana would be such a much better person.

Also from the clips I’ve seen on tiktok of the latest season, who is firmly on Ariana’s side after Scandoval?? That’s right… KATIE. Aka Stassi’s bff aka the true girl’s girl. Ariana spent all her time on the show trying to be one of the guys just to end up being betrayed by them and being comforted by one of the girls who she always scorned as being a Stassi follower.

I’m gonna continue watching but I’m gonna skip all the scenes where they’re rude to Stass over this Jeremy bs. Bc if there’s no vindication here (aka them all seeing that Stassi was right in the end) then I don’t wanna watch it.

Bc what this show has taught me is that it aired way before its time. If these old seasons were airing now, guaranteed Stassi would be the fan favourite like Gen Z would LOVE Stassi she is literally so good. Idk but I’m deffo gonna stop watching after season 8 as that is her last season.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Dancing Again

Summary: You return home, after years of being away from your friends. And while some things have grown and changed, your feelings never did. 

Oneshot

Fluff, Childhood Friends to Lovers au, Reminiscing, and Mutual Pining

Word Count: 2,818 Originally: 2,466

Minhyuk X Reader (Mentions the rest of OT7 + Marie)

Not Requested

Prompt: 11. “Would you be my date to the Christmas Ball?” 

A/n: Alright two things, first is Marie’s house is however big your heart desires. I could not imagine for the life of me how many rooms it had. And secondly, Marie and Sunny are whoever you want them to be btw-- I edited it and I hope it made it all better anyways- enjoy!

------

The Christmas Ball is the most significant event in your hometown. Some places have Christmas markets, and others have Christmas tree lightings. But your town holds a ball, something everyone looks forward to here. When you were little, you'd dance with your parents. And then join the other kids for fun dances in stuffy outfits. While in high school, you went with your friends, doing group dances together. Now, you’re out of college, and it’s been quite a few years since you attended your last ball. But you assume it won’t be different from previous dances you went to in high school.

------

You were happy to be back before Christmas because not only did that mean getting to relax, but it also meant seeing all of your old friends. You had fallen out of contact with a majority of them, but you’d get updates every so often. Like now, as you unpack your bags, Marie calls you up and tells you about the get-together being held at her house with the whole group. And now that you're back, you should be there too to catch up with everyone.

You immediately agreed. And that's when you remember that you still have to get something to wear to the said dance, you ask Marie what color everyone is going to wear this year, and she goes, “(Y/n), we all have dates, so we’re going as different colors this year.” Your jaw nearly hits the floor, “No.” That means this is the first year you’re the odd man out: everyone has a date to the ball except you. And you can’t believe your ears as you realize you’ll be attending alone. Maybe they’ll do a group dance or two with you, so it won’t be as lonely as sitting with your parents the whole night. Who definitely won’t be sitting but up and about dancing the night away. Your friend goes, “Well, there is always Minhyuk,” your high school crush, the guy you never got the courage to ask out all these years, is still single? You shake yourself back into the present, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in years...” She replies, “Well, he’s going to be over this weekend for the gathering too. Why don’t you talk to him then?” You gulp, “You are going to make me either way, aren’t you?” She laughs and sarcastically says, “Oh, and why would I ever do that? Huh?” You roll your eyes, “Alright, alright! I will, but no guarantees that I’ll ask. I don’t even know if I still have feelings for him.” She agrees, “Okay, okay! If you say so. I’ll see you this weekend then!” 

------

You knock on the door, and Marie immediately welcomes you in, “I haven’t seen you in forever! I know we talked over the phone. But it’s not the same! I’m so glad you’re back!” You grin and hug her, and she shuts the door behind you. “(N/n)!” You hear a yell from the kitchen. And you look over to find Jooheon, “Honey!” And within seconds of taking your coat off, you’re wrapped up in another hug. “I’ve missed you!” You both cheer at the same time as you hug him back. And it continues like that, exchanging greetings with old and new friends, getting reacquainted with them all until you're settled in the kitchen catching up with your friends. When there's a lull in the conversation, Hoseok asks, “Where’s Minhyuk?” 

And at that moment, there’s a knock on the door, and Kihyun says, “Speak of the devil.” You all laugh, and Marie gets the door again. “Sorry, I’m late!” He yells out to the rest of us in the kitchen. “It’s okay!” We cheer back, and that’s when he walks past the entrance. You count your lucky stars that you have your hand under your jaw, or you knew it would have dropped. Time did him well and too well; your inner teenager is going wild as he takes off his hat and runs his hand through his hair to fix it. Okay, maybe that high school crush didn’t fade. And you catch yourself falling all over again as he joins the rest of the group, exchanging hugs and greetings until he reaches you. And he gasps, “Oh my god! I didn’t expect to see you here!” And you grin, hoping your cheeks weren’t red, “Surprise!” And he wraps you up in a hug, “I’ve missed you! I’m so happy to see you again!” Thankfully you can hide your red cheeks into his chest as you hug him and tell him the same. 

He squints at Kihyun, “Scoot.” Kihyun scoffs, “I should have known you’d want to be next to (Y/n).” Which makes the rest of the group laugh, leaving you confused, but you shrug it off. It’s Kihyun being Kihyun as usual. You fall back into conversation with all of them, the group had not only grown with new people, like Hyunwoo, Changkyun, and Sunny, but you all had grown up too. And it warmed your heart to see everyone drinking and talking. Minhyuk pulls you out of your thoughts with, “How was college?” You grin, “It was amazing. I had so many fun experiences and learned a lot too.” He smiles and encourages you to go on, “But nothing beats this place. When I was younger, all I wanted to do was escape this, but missing these get-togethers? And the Christmas Ball?” You shake your head, “I’m glad I was able to land a job here. Well, I already know. But how’s your career?” He smirks, “You listen to us, then?” You nod, and he grins, “Well, after New Year’s, we’re having a comeback. And I’m excited about it, even if it’s a little exhausting.” You nod, “Yeah, that makes sense, but I’m so glad you achieved your dreams.” He smiles, “Me too. I’m proud of us.” You nod, and you drift back into the main conversation. 

Hyunwoo and Kihyun serve dinner, and you all enjoy it happily. There’s no better way to spend a Saturday afternoon than eating a delicious meal with your friends. Half of you split up from the kitchen and into the living room, and you sit comfortably between Jooheon and Minhyuk. Marie and Hyunwoo sit together on the loveseat as Minhyuk flips through the channels and lands on a Christmas classic.

The sounds of Frosty the Snowman draws the rest of the group into watching the movie, which leads to you squashed between your two friends. Jooheon groans before sitting next to Changkyun on the floor in front of you and Minhyuk. The five of you on the main couch breathe out a small thank you, and he shrugs it off. And you watch the animation together, and The Grinch Who Stole Christmas follows after. Hyungwon lets out a loud yawn which causes Sunny and Hoseok to do as well. And Marie goes, “I know you’re all tired, so if you want, you can crash here for the night.” And with the invitation: Hyungwon, Hoseok, Sunny, and Kihyun all retire to the guest room area. “Look, we have the whole couch to ourselves.” You whisper and scoot over a little to gain some territory on the couch, careful not to disturb the two napping below. Minhyuk grins and turns in his spot as you scoot over to the other end, and you both spread out. The two of you smirk as you recline and watch the next movie. 

By the end of the next movie, Changkyun and Jooheon tiredly get up, and Marie tells them softly, “You can crash at our place tonight.” They nod and head down the hall to the guest rooms. She sighs and gestures to Hyunwoo, who’s drooling in his sleep, and you both snicker. She sighs and nudges him, “Come on, let’s go to bed.” He nods, and she waves goodnight, “You guys tire yourselves out, and if all the rooms are full. The blankets are to your left.” You both nod, and they walk out as the beginning of Frosty Returns comes on. You get up and ask if he wants one, to which he nods, and you get two blankets from the closet. You throw one on top of him and swaddle yourself in the other before sitting back down on the couch. 

As he fixes his blanket, he says, “I don’t like this Frosty's design.” You agree, “He’s Frosty but a little different. Maybe it’s the bowtie.” He nods, “It’s weird. Then again, it was animated forty years after the original aired. So, I guess the design can change some.” You shake your head, “Nah. This Frosty is all hollow, he's not our Frosty.”

The two of you sit like that for a while before you let out, “I heard you don’t have a date to the ball.” He groans, “Yeah. Never thought they’d all get paired up.” You laugh and ask jokingly, knowing you wouldn’t be able to do it full-heartedly without blushing, “Well then, would you like to go with me?” He shakes his head and crosses his arms, “Only if you ask me properly.” You scoff and hold a finger up, telling him to give you a moment. 

After getting out of the confines of your blanket, you go into the kitchen and find the whiteboard you saw earlier. And write on it in big letters, “Would you be my date to the Christmas Ball?” It takes you a second to realize what you're doing and what's happening. You just got back home. And you just rediscovered your crush again. Which seems mutual? After all, he wants you to ask him properly. And now you're asking him to the most meaningful event in your hometown?! You shake your head deciding if you don't do it now, you never will. So, with what little courage you have left, you make your way back over to the couch and hold it up to him. He laughs, “I was going to say yes earlier. I was giving you a hard time.” You blush, “Really?!" Before smirking, deciding to do the same to him, "But what’s your proper answer?” He shakes his head again and goes, “I would love to be your date to the Christmas Ball.” 

------ 

“Do you remember the last ball you were here?” He asks softly. You shake your head, “Not really.” He blushes, “Not even the part where we danced together?” You think back to that night. You had worn an all-blue outfit matching the rest of the group. And that’s when the memories flood you as if you’re there again.

It had been your first year in college, but you had gotten the chance to head back home in time for the ball, unlike the years that would follow. You had just gotten the taste of freedom; you were in a new place, and while it excited you, it terrified you just as much. You wanted to experience some semblance of home. So, at the first opportunity to go back, you leaped for it. After acing your exams and packing, you went home for the weekend. You were dying to see your friends and hang out with them to relieve some stress and have fun for at least one night.

You had spent the whole night dancing with your friends and singing loudly to the hit songs. Once you felt worn out and needed time to relax, you sat down after grabbing a glass of sparkling cider and relaxed taking it all in. You weren't coming back here for a while. And you knew it in your heart and as you finished your drink. A slow song came on. There he stood, in a matte blue tux, “Can I um… Can I have this dance?” He stuttered slightly, holding his hand out to you, and you took it. You felt like you were dancing in the clouds as you danced together with him. If it wasn't for the song changing to something more light-hearted, you could have finally asked him to be yours. But alas, you both broke away from each other to join the rest of your friends. 

After that dance, you went back to school and decided that it couldn’t have been possible for Minhyuk, your high school crush, to have danced with you that night. So, you forgot about it and logged it as some distant daydream.

You go, “You, you asked me to dance.” He nods, “Yeah, I uh had a big crush on you back then.” You gesture for him to go on, “And I thought by the time you came back, I would be over it. But when I saw you today, it was like I was a teenager again.” He takes another breath, “I really wished I had gotten the courage to call you and at least hang out with you before now. What has it been...? Five years, not including the dance?” You nod, “Four if you include the dance.” He nods and says, “I wish I would have asked you out then. Marie told me before the ball that you liked me too, but I couldn’t find the courage.” You shake your head, “Of course Marie did. She always wanted one of us to make a move, but I wish I had found my courage too. It was funny that you said it came flooding back to you. Because when I saw you fix your hair in the hallway, it was like I was a teenager all over again.” He smiles, “But we’re here together now, and that’s what matters.” You grin, “Want to consider our first date the ball?” He smiles, “I would love to.” 

------

You guys wear matching blue, mirroring the last time you danced together. He picks you up at 8 O'Clock, and shortly after, you get out of his car and go, “I feel like a teenager again.” He laughs, “Why is that?” You laugh as he joins you, “Our parents are both on the committee. Even though they’re not chaperones, it feels like it.” He laughs again, “Yeah, it kinda does. But you know why it makes me feel like a teenager?” You both continue walking across the parking lot and ask, “What?” And he grins, “Because I get to live out my teenage dream of taking you to the ball.” You blush, “That too.” He smiles, and the two of you walk into the building arm-in-arm. 

The dance hall is decorated brilliantly with dozens of streamers, lights, decorated Christmas trees, snowflakes, and bulbs. And it feels simply magical to step in, “Wow, they did an amazing job.” You sigh out, “Yeah, you missed it last year, Changkyun’s dad brought in a live band from his hometown, and they played magnificently. It was magical.” You smile, “I wish I got to see it, I got videos and pictures, but that was about it.” He nods, “But this year will be more magical.” You tilt your head at him as he leads you to the dance floor, “Why is that?” He smirks, “Because I get to spend it with you.” You shake your head at him, “You cheese ball.” He rolls his eyes, “You like it.” You laugh, “Of course I do.” 

You join your group of friends, and while everyone has dates, you still get to dance together as you thought. But instead of looking towards Marie or Jooheon and gesturing to how handsome you think Minhyuk looks. You get to tell him softly as the two of you dance around with the group. And he tells you how stunning you are and that he can't believe he's experiencing this for real.

You guys continue dancing with the group until the radio stops and the live band starts up. And Minhyuk leads you away from the rest of the group, the live band this year is a mixture of all the church’s bands, and they sound nice together. But maybe, what makes them sound nicer is him humming softly to the music as he leads the two of you across the floor. You follow with no trouble as if gliding on air. You notice that funny feeling all over again. He truly makes you feel weightless.

You dance like that for the rest of the night, and you can't help but smile. Knowing this is all you ever dreamed of as a teenager, and now you're experiencing it. You guys stop for a few minutes to talk with your parents and get refreshments before returning to the dance floor and dancing the night away with him. You can’t believe you missed out on dancing with him all these years. But this year, everything changed for the better, and now, you get to dance with him. And you plan on dancing with him for many more years.

[lonelier-version-of-you]

So I found out from @riverstardis‘s classic Casualty liveblogs recently that there’s an episode (S28E36) with a patient who’s a Doctor Who fan. I thought that sounded fun. So now I’m watching it, and I’m gonna liveblog, because why not.

Edit 1: I was gonna say this is the first episode I’ve seen from while Dylan was away but then I remembered it’s not, I watched another series 28 ep because Katherine Dow Blyton was in it.

Edit 2: Connie and Zoe sharing scenes, I might faint from gorgeousness overload.

Edit 3: And here’s some of our guest characters for the episode, some bloke and the young woman he’s giving literacy lessons to.

Edit 4: Jeff and Dixie!

Edit 5: Oh, it’s fucking Fletch.

Edit 6: I think we’ve just met the Whovian kid. Meanwhile, Fletch is treating a patient and bumping into Tess, and I literally do not care.

Edit 7: The lighting in the hospital in this era is really weird.

Edit 8: Awh, the kid in his little bowtie!!

Edit 9: The kid’s just fallen off a playground climbing thingy that I should know the name for, and simultaneously, his grandma’s having shortness of breath and chest pains. Oof.

Literacy Lesson Man’s girlfriend is also struggling to breathe. Another oof.

Edit 10: Nice to see Fletch has always been useless. Also, insane to think that less than a decade after this he was literally CEO.

Edit 11: Oh hi there Ash.

Edit 12: Ethan and the Whovian kid is SO cute.

Edit 13: Is this kid giving off autism vibes or is it just me?

Edit 14: Whovian kid’s mum is going to prison!! Now that’s a plot twist.

Edit 15: The Whovian kid’s grandma keeps saying she’s fine, so she’s definitely not.

Edit 16: Zoe Hanna come back to us challenge.

Edit 17: Jeff suggesting Dixie could roleplay her upcoming interview regarding a patient complaint or whatever, Big Mac shakes his head. Jeff: “I don’t know why you’re shaking your head, you’re going to be the interviewer!” Big Mac: “Why can’t you be the interviewer?” Jeff: “Because I shall be watching and giving notes!” 😂

Edit 18: Dixie is great.

Edit 19: Connie being in the same scene as Fletch feels so odd.

Edit 20: Connie and Zoe in their rivalry era!

Edit 21: Poor Whovian kid, being treated by Fletch the Bland.

Edit 22: Oh no, two of the guest characters are running on the road!

Edit 23: Welp, guest characters had a near-miss with a car but haven’t been hit yet.

Edit 24: OH THERE WE GO. A ton of fencing or something just fell on one of the guest characters. Ouch.

Edit 25: And there we go, Whovian Kid’s grandma is most certainly not fine. Also, oh hey, here’s Robyn.

Edit 26: Dixie conveniently walks by and sees the guy who had the fencing fall on him. 😂

Edit 27: The fancy camera angles while Dixie was running up the stairs for her interview made me dizzy.

Edit 28: “Sorry... I got caught up in an emergency. *brushes dust off her jacket*” I love Dixie.

Edit 29: Literacy Lesson Bloke just died, oof. And now his wife and his student are fighting. Yikes.

The good news is, Whovian Kid’s grandma is fine.

Edit 30: Whovian Kid’s mum just said he doesn’t like being with people he doesn’t know. Yeaaah, definitely autistic.

Edit 31: My goodness Connie looks stunning.

Edit 32: Noel, my love, I miss you.

Edit 33: Funny how many characters from this era kept switching jobs! Louise, Big Mac...

Edit 34: Connie asks Zoe to go for a drink with her. Zoe: “What, like a date?”

Edit 35: Ah, the staff setting it up so the kid and his family can watch Doctor Who together. Cute.

Edit 36: I mean this scene DOES look like Zoe and Connie are on a date.

Edit 37: I DO NOT CARE ABOUT FLETCH.

Edit 38: Why did Tess ever go for Fletch? She could do so much better.

Edit 39: NOEL I MISS YOU.

Edit 40: Connie in her trying to get the clinical lead job era.

Edit 41: It’s no wonder Dylan and Zoe were so close. They both hate having to do management stuff.

[incalamity]

Omg hi I just made a connection in my mind and I need to tell you to thank you (it’s just me rambling but I really needed to gush)

I started following you from OP but you also reblogged RWRB so it sometimes got onto my dash (I’m guessing it’s you cause I can’t seem to figure out who or how else, though I never really looked at the acc handle then). I didn’t really catch on the train BUT THEN I had nothing to do one day and gave RWRB a watch cause I vaguely remembered seeing posts on it and omg when I tell you my life has changed it’s trajectory since!!

It might not be much but in a span of a week (while working) I rewatched the movie twice, read the book online while waiting for the physical book to come and then reread the whole book once the physical copy came… as someone who usually don’t rewatch things and owns perhaps only 3 physical book in my life, RWRB has me in a chokehold!!! I love it with all my life and it’s all thanks to you!!

Anyway TLDR; I just saw a RWRB reblog from you and I was like omg you’re the only one I followed before getting into RWRB so the RWRB posts I’ve seen should have been from you!! You got me into this amazing fandom and I feel like my life has genuinely gotten better and you don’t even know it so I decided to drop this msg to thank you LOL so thank you for (unintentionally) exposing me to this wonderful content I’m forever grateful 😭

whoa this was such a treat to login to and read omg

you basically went through the same journey i did with rwrb, except mine happened in january haha. i first stumbled upon edits from the movie, so i watched it. then it put me in such a vice grip that i bought the book and read it all in one day haha

but i'm so glad you discovered a fandom that you're really into! i'm definitely obsessed with this fandom too so i'm happy to know that you're enjoying your time. thank you so much for sending this message it actually means a lot that you even went out of your way to let me know! and now i finally have someone else who is just as obsessed with one piece and rwrb as i am <3

[beta-adjacent]

AGGHHH YIPPEE :strained smile emoji: I GUESS YALL ARE GETTKNG MORE FEELS TODAY: autism edition (not me having autism, I don’t think, unless this is related to that somehow. Idk my Brian is genuinely so scatterbrained rn I don’t know what to do with myself. Like all my organs are unraveling bc I kept them too compact last week. Sorry, worse stuff under the cut :’)))))))) sorry again)

Bro, my empathy is so fucking bad because I feel too much of people’s emotions and then I just. Assume something I read is something everyone experiences.

Like, number one, got called ~The Spectrum Whisperer~ during the holidays this year ayyyyyyyyyyy let’s go (they all marvel at me, like understanding autism is somehow to be marveled?????????? Skill issue, that’s what they all have.)

Number two, I sometimes feel like a really really bad whisperer (I shouldn’t actually call myself a “whisperer” because again, this shit isn’t hard, people are just assholes or just aren’t taking the time to learn. Fucking skill issues y’all!!!) because I Know I can’t assume or generalize things, but I still do.

Like, ohohoho my god, my anxiety around the thought of autistic people getting their schedule thrown off because of me?????!?!? I want to break down crying and eject my organs out of my body bro. Because I know that feeling!!!! Losing control because you don’t know what’ll happen in your day is fucking angering and confusing and makes you feel terrible!!!!!!! And that’s coming from someone who (probably) doesn’t even have autism.

So good golly, it makes me sick to my stomach to think I’ve ruined someone’s schedule. But I am a human and schedules often go wrong and I feel so guilty everytime it does. I can’t ever tell if it’s better to just suffer through and let the schedule run its course (save their schedule) or if I should just say I can’t do it (and save my schedule).

What’s worse is that I think the majority of the autistics I’m surrounded by rn don’t actually mind schedule changes that much!! It’s a fucking me emotion and assumption I’m imposing onto them, like a total asshole!!!!!!!! It makes me want to break out in hives or pull my bones out of my body, like that level of anguish y’know???!?!?!?

So then of course now I’m the self-fulfilling asshole prophecy who’s ruining my own schedule and torturing everyone else by trying to make everyone fit in my schedule. Which of course I’m aware of and that contributes to just another feeling of self-loathing and doubt.

And what sucks about that is the autistic people in my life rn really prioritize honesty. It’s been so hard to remember to be honest. I kind of forgot why I lie in conversation or about anything at all. No one likes dishonesty. Except those rare times when they do. But I can’t always tell that so I just play it safe by lying about random things all the time. Am I lying to you all right now by explaining this story? I might not be, but now I’ve planted the idea in your head!

anyway uhhh. Right, there’s a rarely seen desire in the people I care about in my life to be truthful about everything. “Ew gross,” I think to them, “even lies of omission?” They reply in my head “especially that!!” I groan, and turn away from them, but then I get scared they disappeared, as if I’m some child and they’re playing peekaboo just to fuck with me. So I whip my head back and they’re still fucking there. Tormenting me, I tell you!! But of course they aren’t actually, it’s just my fear again. Silly fear.

….wow I totally lost track of everything I was talking about. But I’d love to talk to my Good Honest Friends about this stuff, but after all of this, do you really think I’d allow myself to tell them? My Good/Bad Dishonest Friends definitely wouldn’t get it. My Bad Honest Friends actually might…. But they might hurt my feelings if I tell them. Lord forbid they do as I fear and actually say I have a skill issue!

No I’m kidding. None of this is real. I made it all up. I’m perfect and have no such feelings or flaws or worrries. And if I did I’d certainly feel like I could tell absolutely anyone about them other than my therapist who I’ve even started to suspect hates me for my withdrawn nature.

Ok I read through everything I wrote. This is a good skill I learned a long time ago. If I don’t know what I’m saying, I pause and then I think back and then I try to reformulate my thoughts before the anxiety of taking too long to think eats me. So I’m trying to say that my empathy levels of really kind but really really stupid, because I’m imposing my own issue onto others, and instead of just owning up to my issue and working with people on a mutually agreed upon midpoint, I try to cut corners by meeting them exactly where they’re at, which isn’t often where I’m at, and praying I didn’t stretch myself too thin, except they can always tell when I have because I’m so fucking easy to read that it’s embarrassing.

I don’t know what I’d do with myself if they hate me for what I do or think or say. Probably unsavory things. I wish I didn’t care so much. Maybe this isn’t empathy. It’s just some ugly curse I’ve been born with. But I love them so much. But I hate myself so much. I’m so tired.

TLDR uhhh. Purposefully bulldoze over people’s schedules, especially mine.

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

I Can’t See Myself

So this post is going to be a ramble and a ride. Keep going at your own risk. I know maybe one of two of you have seen a version of this post before, but I also know at least one of you hasn’t. And I’m feeling it again. If I still had the old blog, maybe I’d be reblogging it with a bunch of tags, but instead I’m reposting it with edits.

I don’t feel the immediate desperation about writer’s block like I did in April and May of this year. It felt uncomfortable and even a little anxiety inducing for a while though. I’d say at least 6 months…probably longer. It was by far the longest I’ve had that feeling of, ‘Maybe I can’t do it at all anymore…maybe it’s never going to come back…maybe it’s just gone,’ without something shaking loose and getting better. I mean…that’s in a virtual lifetime of creating things. I’ve made up stories in my head my whole life that I can remember…but I just couldn’t do it for a year and a half. And it freaked me out a little. Part of that is the obvious creator angst that maybe a piece of me has disappeared or permanently malfunctioned or something. And part of it I’ve whined written about before in the post I’ll put up right next to this one, and my post ‘Next’. Maybe I’m not worth anything if I can’t produce something new for other people to consume.  Maybe I’m invisible if I can’t make something new and current all the time for other people to see. I dunno. It’s been a rough ride here for me the past year-ish to be honest. And while the shit I have bitched wrote about regarding writer’s block in the past is definitely bothering me and weighing on me, the biggest problem with the fiction drought is that I’m hurting and I can’t find a way to alleviate it, because I can’t see myself.

I’ve revealed this privately to a couple of friends in the past, and I think I may have answered some old blog prompt 5 years ago about journaling or something by saying that writing clarifies things for me, and I don’t really journal, but I do write essays on the blog and *I write fiction.* And writing fiction is therapeutic for me in this very strange but real way. I can’t see MYSELF out of a bad patch. I’ve never been able to do that. I need somebody to come rescue me (which J often does, and some close friends do sometimes too, and I am very grateful for them every day for this and many other reasons). BUT I almost always can see SOMEBODY ELSE out of a bad patch. This is a simultaneous honor and danger for me, because there are people who turn to me fairly easily and readily to help them deal with their bad shit once they know me a little. (I probably cried 10 times watching Encanto. Seriously.) They know I’ll listen. They know I don’t normally get Mean and Judgy about things. And they learn over time, normally, that if they ask me (they almost always have to ask me, because I’VE learned to not offer it without being asked…it takes a borderline or maybe even an actual emergent situation for me to just go in guns blazing), I’ll give them honest advice. I can almost always see a way out, and I like doing that…I like searching for the way out and I really like actually finding one. For SOMEBODY ELSE. (So if you’re a person who has ever been all, ‘Hey Walrus? Um…can you see a way out here?’ Don’t feel bad. I know I linked that song there, but my surface pressure always comes from the inside and explodes out; it doesn’t crush me from the outside.) So in this odd way, fiction is a tool for me. If I’m in a jam or feeling shitty and I don’t want to burden turn to J or a friend about my shit, I’d just make up somebody who was kinda like me and give them a problem that was kinda like mine and then I’d push them out of it. I could see myself through other people…imaginary people. When I had a friend reading through the things I’ve already created, I could see myself a bit in the old stuff, and it helped me get to a place where I did produce something new really pretty fast in August. I got reconnected with some pieces of myself I’d never felt good about writing about before. But now that friend has turned out to be fictional, even though they and I are both real people, and I can’t see myself in the old stuff anymore. And now I’m back to a place where I can’t see myself. Like…at all.

And now I’m going to do an abrupt shift to pandemic media consumption. I’m an American, and I’m a pronounced introvert with moderate to severe agoraphobia on a NON pandemic living day. Like…I’ve ALWAYS hated the fucking grocery store if you get what I’m saying. I’d honestly just stay in my house all the time if given the choice anyway. But that’s still not super good for me, and I’ve found that out in more ways that I’m comfortable with this year. Writer’s block is part of it, but another part of it which seems dumb on the surface but is looking and feeling very real now is that I’ve run out of media to consume without leaving my house. I appreciated people who have recommended new shows and new music and new things to read to me because honestly? The well is pretty dry at this point. I’ve found myself several times in the past 6 months scrolling through a streaming service, trolling for anything new, and saying to myself, ‘Seen it, seen it, seen it, will definitely trigger anxiety which is why I skipped it the last pass, seen it, seen it, seen it three times, seen it probably 20 times since 1990, will make me cry and who fucking needs THAT right now, seen it…’ And I watched a lot of shows I’d have otherwise not tried at all, because they were someone else’s favorites. That was fun at the time, but honestly...they weren’t my cup of tea. I enjoyed doing it, but I think I just mostly enjoyed being there to see someone else’s joy, which has always been awesome for me. So being American, you know what DOES show up new all the time? True crime shit. Oh here’s a new podcast/docuseries/docudrama/episode of 12 year old series about murder/marital infidelity/graft/fraud/catfishing/mass abuse scandals and coverups/cults. So J and I have (unfortunately?) consumed a lot of this kind of shit in the past year or two. Like…A LOT. And we find ourselves often listening or watching (or even reading) this stuff and I hear myself say this phrase to J at least twice a week: ‘I can’t see myself…<believing that person/going to another place with that person/marrying that person/dating that person/being friends with that person/doing business with that person/falling for that line/tolerating that behavior/ever treating a person like that/being violent in that situation/whatever>…’ But the important part of that is ‘I can’t see myself.’ And maybe the reason I can’t see myself doing any of the shit anybody on any of this ‘real’ media has done or is doing is because no one else sees me either. Maybe I really am invisible unless I’m producing something new for other people to consume and that’s current and pleasing or at least entertaining for other people to see. There’s this weird little wrinkle in the podcasts in particular where the podcast host/moderator has people who know the victim/survivor/main protagonist in the story describe that person for the audience to know them better. I’m not sure anyone could do that for me if I was ever murdered. Maybe not even J. He’s not all that great with words, to be honest. And I find myself wondering, ‘Does anybody actually see me? Could anyone describe me for Tiffany Reese or Keith Morrison?’ Maybe not. I can’t even see myself.

And then there’s this piece of every one of the abuse/murder ones at least where someone’s mom/sister/best friend/adult child/coworkers call law enforcement to report a problem. Something is wrong; I haven’t heard from <important person> in <amount of time, but this amount of time ranges from 1 hour later than I expected to see/hear from them and they aren’t answering their phone to a couple of days or weeks>, so they are either seriously injured, kidnapped, or dead. Go do something about it.’ So then I think if my kid was away at college or living his own life and something had happened to J? No one would ever notice I was gone. Even the most important connections I have in my life beyond that? No one would think anything bad had happened because they didn’t hear from me for weeks….months…years. Unless I was producing something new for them to consume; making something current and pleasing/entertaining for them to see. I don’t reach out to people unless I think I have something new or pleasing or entertaining or all of that for them to see and/or consume. I never have. Because I can’t see myself without it.

I don’t want anyone who actually reads this to think I’m having like a potential self harm episode coming up or anything, because I’m not. I promise. But I am really having a real hard time seeing myself right now. Or at least seeing myself in a good, positive way. Hearing someone you’ve become close to tell you all the things you’d worked for years to no longer believe about yourself and use as the words to beat yourself up with and accuse you of the very things past abusers told you about yourself over and over again reverses a lot of forward self esteem and seeing yourself progress. I can feel that I’ve lost ground in those areas. Everything I thought this person was helping me with has kind of been destroyed in the past month. The writing maybe wasn’t good; maybe I’m not good at it like I’d finally started to believe from other people telling me so. I’m actually not a good friend; not a good mom; not a good person, like I’d started to accept at least occasionally might be true when J or A or my son said it. Maybe I really can’t connect to other people in a real way; maybe I really am invisible; maybe I really am worthless if I can’t be of service. 

[fictionalmenownmyheart]

Swing Those Hips Wifey • miles teller

Hello! I’m still sort of new to how everything works on tumblr so please bear with me on this. I hope you enjoy this because it came to me at 2am and I had to write it down quickly so I didn’t forget anything so it’s probably not perfect even after some editing. After reading so many rooster x reader fics here on tumblr, which I have absolutely loved, I hope I’ve done okay with this. Please let me know what you think and any help would be much appreciated. I hope the title and photo (below) speak for themselves in what this is going to be about, I’ve seen this everywhere on Instagram (I can’t find a gif of Miles in his white suit replicating the move so I’ve put the next best thing, or first, or equally as good) and just had to do this, I couldn’t stop myself.

Gif is not mine, belongs to the owner.

Warnings: very short and fluffy, one swear word used at the end

Miles Teller x fem!reader

Word count: 522 (does this make it a drabble or is the worthy of being a one shot? Or both maybe?)

I couldn’t believe I was here. Having been married to Miles for 6 years now I knew what to expect at these things but it never meant I was fully prepared for all these cameras and eyes on me, I definitely much preferred being behind the camera and left being in front of one to Miles.

I liked being Y/N Teller, supportive wife of the gorgeous man and amazing actor, Miles Teller, but mostly from behind the scenes.

At the moment I was talking to one of the interviewers whilst my husband was elsewhere. I couldn’t have said no to them, that would have been rude and I remember Miles’ words to have a good time before we had arrived here so that is what I was going to make sure to do.

“Enjoy yourself baby, I’ll catch up and find you later.” He had said to me earlier, as he kissed me on the lips softly.

So here I was being asked about his new role as Rooster in the long awaited film, Top Gun: Maverick. “Thank you so much for coming over and talking to me Y/N, last question, I was wondering if you could show us your own version of your husbands now iconic beach scene moment.”

I instantly knew what they meant and I laughed good heartedly.

Everyone had soon become obsessed with the shirtless body rolling, shaking thing Miles had done in the movie and I was happy to oblige.

“I’ll give it a go but I can’t guarantee it’s going to be as good as Miles, he’s got it down to a T.” I start moving my body shaking my shoulders and rolling in a way that he did in the scene, replicating it as close as possible to how he did, moving with as much rhythm as I could manage whilst trying not to feel awkward or too out of my comfort zone.

“How was that?” I ask as I notice the interviewer looking beyond me over my shoulder probably at Tom who I knew was near by.

Even though I’d gotten to know him really well during filming I still get starstruck so I completely understood why the focus was taken off me.

“Swing those hips wifey, that was amazing. Trying to steal my moves I see and doing them better than me,” My husband calls from right behind me and places his hand on my hip as he comes and stands beside me. I look up into his beautiful brown eyes and get lost in the love I see in them and a hidden burning fiery gaze of heat that is easier to notice in his depths from how close we’re standing.

We finish the interview together, the interviewer clearly more than happy to talk to Miles as well. Not that I could blame them.

Once we’re finished and walking away Miles grips my hip tighter and leans down and whispers in my ear, “When we get home I hope to see more of those swinging hips baby, so fucking sexy.” I blush profusely but don’t disagree with him.

[sukirichi]

total opposites

You and Toge swap bodies after encountering a fairytale curse, and similar to its origin, it also takes a fairytale method to break it.

REQUEST. body swap au + best friends to lovers

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight crack fic, some cursing, implications of nsfw but nothing explicit, just Toge being a not-so closet pervert, usual best friend bickering, reader is fem bodied, unedited story (I should stop saying this, everyone knows I don’t edit my stuff)

NOTES. I enjoyed writing this, tysm for the request anon, this was really cute! definitely this is shooting up in one of my fav works ever (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

You stretched your arms overhead, feeling great after sleeping in. It wasn’t common of you to sleep this late, but you and Toge had gone stargazing the night before. A smile made its way to your face as you reminisced him reciting rice ball ingredients, signing that he was telling poetry to ‘match the mood’ until you’d both fallen asleep on the soft blanket atop a hill.

You don’t remember how you made it back to your room, but figured that Toge had carried you back home before the sun rose. Making a mental note to thank your best friend later, you yawned as you padded out to your room, hands rubbing in circles at your stomach.

Hopefully breakfast would be amazing today.

The door next to you opened, revealing your younger classmate, and you frowned, because wasn’t Kugisaki your next door neighbour? Well, whatever, he, Yuuji, and Kugisaki might’ve taken advantage of the rare, peaceful weekend that they probably had a movie marathon the night before.

“Morning, Megumi!” you greeted, coughing a bit when you sounded off, throat a little horse and itchy. At the sound of your voice, Megumi stilled in his tracks, eyes wide at you. His comical expression had you barking in laughter, shooting finger guns his way as you wiggled your eyebrows. “Ey, be a good dog and bark for me, will you?”

Semi-visible sonic waves drifted like waves after one another out your mouth. Megumi scowled before he froze the next second, ears perked up and backside wagging in replacement of a tail. “Woof woof!”

“What the hell?” you reeled back in slight disgust, your underclassman’s cheeks burning red. Then, your lips grazed against a soft cloth, making you look down.

You blinked back once. Twice. You were definitely...built different today. Curiously, you tugged at the zipper peaking out from your black collar, the familiar zhoop sound of the zipper burned into your memory after hearing your best friend do it countless times before.

In front of you, Megumi screeched – the most noise he’d made ever since you met him – his jaw dropped open while you – or rather Toge stood at the end of the hallway, his hands squeezing at your breasts that were still under last night’s pyjamas. You blinked back once. Then twice, steam pouring from your nose when Toge, in your body, pointed at his body. 

“Oh, oh!” your scream bounced off the hallways hard enough that Panda slammed his door open, about to tell everyone to shut up when your voice let out a high-pitched scream.

“What are you doing in my body?!”

Looking down at where Toge was pointing, you were greeted by the sight of his dark uniform and sock clad feet, your chest replaced with hard muscles instead of the soft flesh. You turned to Toge with a stupefied look that mirrored his, both of you falling on the ground with fists pounding on the hardwood floor.

“I’m a fucking girl!” he cried out, whether out of happiness or frustration, it was hard to tell.

Meanwhile, you zipped his collar back up, tugging at his off-white hair as you forced yourself to remember his limited vocabulary. “BONITO FLAKES!”

Now you understood Toge’s frustration of being a cursed speech user. 

“Bonito Flakes” definitely did not hold the same fury as “FUCK” did.

“You and I need to set down some boundaries,” you signed to him, brows pulled together. Toge seemed to be enjoying this sudden body swap a lot more than you did since he hadn’t stopped posing in the mirror the moment you pushed him back to your room, locking it shut to get some privacy. “You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to shower, do you understand?”

Toge scowled at your words, sassy as ever with his hands placed on his hips, buttocks jutted out. You hated, absolutely hated that he used your body this way because this time you couldn’t even laugh – not when seeing your body felt this awkward.

“You would really rather me stink?”

“You can’t undress too! Ever! Or if you will, your eyes better be closed. No peeking too!”

“Y/N, you and I grew up together. I’ve already seen everything,” he rolled his eyes, earning him a hard slap from the arm. Considering he was a lot more muscular than you were, your hit came a lot harder. “Ow!” he protested, rubbing the sore spot that ached, only to laugh at the sounds emitting from his lips. “Wow, I have to admit that this is really fun though. I’m actually talking,” he announced, “Hey, say salmon for me.”

“Bonito flakes!” you shook your head, “The moment Principal Yaga is back, we’re going to talk to him, okay? I don’t want to be stuck in your body any longer!”

“Please, you’re lucky you get to feel me up,” he winked at you, taking your (his) hands to flatten it on his stomach. “Come on, come on, feel my abs!” Whack. “Would you please stop slapping me? Your body is a lot more delicate than mine and my hands are – stop slapping me!”

Feeling bad for your friend and not wanting to abuse your body too much, you raised your hands in surrender with a roll of your eyes. “I can’t take you seriously with that voice. You’re too cute.”

“Complimenting ourselves now, aren’t we?” he scoffed, “Well, whatever, you are cute, especially when you’re angry. Such a shame I can’t see you do that right now because my handsome face is looking back at me.”

“I won’t hesitate to choke you, my friend.”

“You wouldn’t. You adore your body too much,” contrary to his words, Toge pulled a defensive stance. You threw a pillow at him, to which he easily dodged, clutching at the hem of your pyjamas afterwards. “Speaking of bodies, I really need to pee.”

“Hold it!”

“Are you insane? I’m not holding it, you’re going to kill us both!”

“Fine, I’ll take you to the rest room then,” you tugged at the hood of your shirt, pushing him inside the communal female restroom. Toge stood in the middle shock still, evidently flustered at the stalls and lack of urinals. You flicked a finger on his forehead, finger pointed to a stall. “Go pee. That’s my body – I need to make sure you’re not going to do anything weird with it.”

“I thought you trusted me, friend. Why would you think I’d touch you that way?”

You gave him an ‘are you serious?’ look. “You jack off every fucking night, Toge. I can hear you even from the next hallway. Plus, you’re a horny teenage male, who’s to say you wouldn’t be curious and try to see what female masturbation feels like?”

His eyes lit up at the idea, fist coming down to bounce at the palm of his hand as he nodded. “That’s actually a good idea—”

“Don’t you even dare.”

“What?!” you and Toge both exclaimed. He faced you with utter horror written on his face and you gasped, slapping both palms over your lips.

“It is true,” Principal Yaga affirmed with a grim look on his face. He’d recently got back to fetch your troublesome Gojo-Sensei who’d been caught starting a ruckus in Roponggi while women flocked around him, leading to your principal to haul his ass back to the school grounds. “Some curses are manifested through daily objects, and sometimes even through nature. That shooting star you saw was an example of that.”

“But is kissing really necessary?” Toge queried with a wary gaze sent your way.

“It’s a fairytale curse. It can only be broken through a true love’s kiss.”

“But sir, Toge and I have never dated anyone before. How can we miraculously fall in love with someone to break this curse overnight?”

“It doesn’t have to happen overnight. Sometimes, a simple crush will do,” Principal Yaga sighed, scratching his bald head with his face pulled deep in thought. “Y/N, you have a crush on Gojo-Sensei right? I’m going to kill him if he actually kisses you – and knowing that damn brat he might if you ask him – but I think a kiss on the cheek will suffice. For now, you both just have to...broaden your relationships. Maybe go out on dates.”

“I don’t mind that. In fact, I’m going to have the time of my life,” Toge cheered, his mood dampening once he saw you stiffen. “But my body is...”

Knowing full well that he’d get insecure over his lack of speech again, you glared at him hard enough that your best friend straightened up, lips puckered out in a pout as if you hadn’t just caught him talking badly about himself again when you’ve told him countless times he was perfectly fine the way he was.

It made you sigh, feeling slightly bad that until now he still couldn’t see himself the way you saw him – not that you’d ever vocalize this; Toge would never shut up (in the best way he could) if he had the slightest idea what went inside your head.

“You’re lucky you have a pretty face. Otherwise, it’s going to be impossible for anyone to like you,” you teased instead, somewhat flustered at your indirect compliment.

Toge merely scoffed at you, his gaze burning and hard, contrasting the teasing little shit grin he wore. “Oh, please, if I wasn’t the cursed speech user, I would’ve banged—”

“Kids!” Principal Yaga threw his dolls at you hard, the both of you clutching at your heads in pain. How were those dolls as heavy as rocks? “Take your bickering back to your rooms please. No more of this mess and noise. It’s late.”

You frowned at the old man, face pleading as you signed, “Principal Yaga, can’t we really do anything else? Aren’t there any techniques to undo this?”

You and Toge knew that combination so well – pitch black eyes, jaw clenched, lips pursed and palms interlaced under his chin – one that meant his words were final and irrevocable. None of you could argue or suggest more solutions the moment the words left his lips like an ultimate decree. “The technique is the kiss. Now leave.”

You and Toge tried, you both really did. 

But following Principal Yaga’s suggestion of dating others had turned out to be a complete fail – even with your normal body and Toge’s physical charisma. 

It simply didn’t work; not when Megumi ran away from you every time you tried to get him to kiss you with your arms wide open, and Toge wasn’t helping either by pushing Gojo-Sensei away from you every time the cheeky eyed teacher announced his willingness to help.

Eventually, you and your best friend had retired in his room, the scent of him coated all over his pillows and his shirt that you wore. That felt comforting, at least, and you buried yourself in the crook of your body’s neck, bodies tangled with one another.

Who knew dating could be so tiring?

A wave of irritation flashed over you from today’s events, knowing full well that this could’ve been avoided long ago. Scowling, you cuddled Toge closer, lightly flicking your fingers on your body’s chest. “This is your damn fault, Toge.”

“You were the one who asked me to stargaze with you.”

“You don’t always have to say no to everything I ask of you, you know.”

“You’re really dumber than I thought if you think I could easily say no to you,” he snorted above you, his chin resting atop your head. “I don’t have a lot of weakness because I’m a strong sorcerer—” another flick, a harsher one this time around. “Okay, okay, I’m just kidding! But I mean it though – you’re my best friend and my weakness. Of course I’d do anything to make you happy, even if it’s something as stupid as stargazing.”

“Hey!” you made a sound of protest in your throat, looking back at him with a frown. “It wasn’t stupid, it was romantic.”

Hell yeah, it was romantic indeed – your heart still skipped a beat every time you remembered Toge’s starry eyes matching the night sky’s beauty, the words salmon and mustard leaf surprisingly sexy every time it came from him. It was stupid – so fucking stupid – that you groaned into his chest to hide your flushed face.

“Yeah, I suppose it was.”

The room fell silent, your syncopated breathing soothing during this stressful times. Taking advantage of your voice, Toge began to hum, singing the songs you both had always listened to in the privacy of your room during lazy days. It brought a smile to your face as you clutched to him tighter, heart pounding in your chest as you gazed up at him, tapping his chin to get his attention. “Toge, can I say something weird?”

“Please, nothing you say surprises me anymore. Shoot.”

Your mouth began to dry as you cleared your throat in an attempt to hide your awkwardness, gaze pointedly averted from his prying ones. “You and I...we’ve known each other for a long time and we love each other. As best friends, of course.”

“Sheesh, friendzone much?”

“Would you please shut up and listen to me seriously for once?” you huffed, making him snicker, but nodded at you anyway to continue. “As I was saying – why don’t we kiss? It could be true love’s kiss.”

Toge didn’t speak for a good minute, the pregnant pause filling in the gap filled with tension. You taped his cheek, waving his hand in front of his eyes when he dazed out. When his gaze focussed back on you, Toge was surprisingly calm – although beneath that composed exterior, his mind had simply short-circuited. “If this is your way to get to make out with me, I’m going to sock you in the face.”

“Toge, I’m serious! Let’s kiss!”

“I don’t want to!” he shook his head indignantly, hiding his face by hugging you close to his chest instead.

“Why not? Don’t you want to swap back to your original body? Both of us haven’t showered in two days and I’m sick of the way you smell. You’re lucky I love you though, otherwise I’m going to cry. Come on, Toge, what’s holding you back?” you tried to fight back from his grip, but he’d surprised you both when he only squeezed you tighter, both your erratic heart rates matching the other.

“I said no.”

“Toge, it’s just a damn kiss, what’re you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid that if we don’t swap back, then that means you don’t love me the way I love you!” he finally admitted, breathing hard before continuing. “Principal Yaga said it must be a kiss between lovers and not just platonic friends okay?” you attempted to scramble away from his arms again, and this time he let you, though he’d closed his eyes, cheek squished on the pillows as he murmured, “I don’t want you to reject me... even though I messed up already.”

“Wait,” you snapped your fingers to make him open his eyes, hesitant as you signed, “You...you love me that way?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because my face is staring back at me and it’s fucking awkward – I wanted to see your face when I confessed!” he sat up with a frustrated groan, childishly kicking off the sheets of the bed as he clutched his head in his hands. “I had everything planned, okay? Nobara and Yuuji helped me think of everything because Megumi is shit when it comes to love. Listen, I was going to ask you on a candlelit date and then maybe kiss the life out of you – if you feel the same way—”

“Kiss me.” The body he possessed a victim of his own powers, Toge was left with no choice but to grab your face before his mouth pressed against yours, fingers entangled into the other���s hair. You were smiling into the kiss the whole time, barely able to recognize when Toge had shifted your bodies until you were under him, his hands running down your sides lovingly the whole time. 

Pulling away to get some air, you opened your eyes, unsurprised when Toge laid above you, his strong arms planted beside your head.

Both of you were breathing hard from the passionate kiss filled with so much sexual tension and longing, your tongue darting out to swipe at his taste on your lips. The laughter that bubbled out of you was pure, wholesome and swollen like your heart. “I love you too, idiot.”

“Salmon!” Toge peppered your cheeks with kisses, pulling out more gleeful laughter from you, his playful and loving attacks more of a gift than a punishment. Once you’d recovered from your happiness – although really, who could recover after that? – Toge unzipped his collar, his smile nothing but wicked when he commanded, “Kiss me again.”

[scuttling]

If I Should Linger

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,979 (what is wrong with me??) Tags: 18+, NSFW, Best Friend's Dad Hotch, Confident reader, Flirting, Oral sex, Protected sex, Dirty talk, A little angst with a happy ending Summary: Your best friend stands you up at the bar, but it actually turns into the best night you've had in a long time—maybe the best night of your life. Unfortunately, things don't stay uncomplicated for long... *Requested by @hotforhotchner11 Link to A03 or read below! “I can’t believe you stood me up to have sex with a frat boy,” you hiss into your phone from your seat at the bar. Your best friend Julie—better known as Jay—is on the other end, and she’s completely ruining your plans for the evening at later than the last minute. She’s never on time for anything.

“He’s not a frat boy… yet. He’s rushing.” You pick up your gin and tonic to take a sip, but her comment makes you pause.

“He’s rushing? How old is he?” The breath she blows out before she answers tells you everything you need to know. Goddamn cradle robber.

“Twenty? Or, almost twenty.”

“Oh, you nasty girl. He’s nearly ten years younger than us.” At 28, you literally could not imagine being interested in a 20 year old. Anyone under 25 is practically an infant; what would you talk about?

“The pussy wants what it wants, babe. It’s more fun when they barely know what they’re doing.” Then again, you figure, she isn’t exactly doing much talking.

“That’s gross, Jay.”

“Is it any grosser than your thing for older guys? You’d fuck my dad if I let you anywhere near him, which is exactly why I don’t.”

“I would not fuck your dad—actually, what does he look like?” She groans down the line and you laugh. “I’m kidding. I’m trying to fuck someone’s dad tonight, but not yours.” You hear a choked laugh from beside you and you glance over at, objectively, one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen: he’s Black, bald, muscular, with a neatly trimmed goatee and a killer smile, and apparently your thirst for older men amuses him. You smile back. “Jay, I have to go; I’m embarrassing myself in public.”

“Okay, and what else is new? Bye!” When she hangs up, you lock your phone and turn to face the man at the bar.

“Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget people are actually listening in places like these; there’s so much talking it’s all kind of white noise to me.”

“It’s kind of my job to listen to what no one else does, but I forget to turn it off sometimes,” he says, and no, that’s not intriguing or anything. “So you’re into older guys?” he asks with a raised eyebrow, and you lean in with your chin in your hand, elbow on the bar.

“Almost exclusively. You don’t look old enough to be someone’s dad, but I’d probably make an exception.” He laughs again; he doesn’t have a drink, so maybe he’s waiting for the bartender, but you sip yours.

“I’m flattered, but taken. I have a friend who’s probably your type; he doesn’t do one night stands, though. He doesn’t really do anything. We’re trying to loosen him up.” You hum thoughtfully, take a cursory glance around the room.

“I happen to be great at loosening older men up. Is he here?” He shoots you a smile, looks at you like you kind of amaze him.

“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Would you, if you weren’t taken?” He nods a little, like you’ve got a good point, and you both laugh. “Yeah, it’s a double standard. If you can walk up to a woman and ask her if it hurt when she fell from heaven, why can’t I walk up to an older man and ask if he believes in love at first sight, or if I should walk by again?”

“That tired line would not work on my friend,” he says, and you grin.

“I think you’d be surprised. But, you know him better, so why don’t you just invite me back to your table, since I got stood up by my friend and I’m all alone, and let me do my thing?” You swirl your straw in your drink, try to look flirty, and he leans in on his elbow like you did before.

“You know what? What the hell. If nothing else, he gets some attention from a pretty girl and maybe it boosts his confidence.” You smile—you like this guy already.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” He rolls his eyes, and then the bartender presents him with his drinks. You take two—one is a neat bourbon, that has to belong to the older man friend—and follow him to his table while he just shakes his head.

“Looks like you brought back more than drinks,” a pale woman with dark hair and bangs says with a smile when the two of you approach the table. He hands her one of the beers, takes the cocktail from your hand and gives it to a petite blonde with fair skin.

“Her friend bailed on her and we got talking at the bar, so I invited her to come sit with us.” You introduce yourself to the group, and the friend Derek mentioned might be your type? Egregious understatement.

He’s everything you like in an older man: polite, well-spoken, handsome, clean shaven, with a great head of thick, dark hair—he’s wearing an expensive watch, a goddamn suit, a tailored suit that fits him perfectly, and if Jay were here, you’d be catching her attention and panting like a dog, with your hands up near your face.

To someone without your more refined palate for older gentlemen, he may look like an average white guy in his early fifties, but you have to look down to make sure your panties haven’t dropped involuntarily. Just in case.

“Is this seat taken?” you ask, gesturing to the one next to him, and he shakes his head, pulls it out for you before he sits back down—yes, he stood when you approached the table. Manners, check. You’re trying not to drool.

You smooth out your skirt before you take your seat—you always dress for the man you want to attract, and tonight is no exception, so you’re wearing a black lace dress and nude heels; the dress is fitted, but not clingy, and not too short, and you know the right kind of man will find it appealing. So far, your handsome potential love interest Aaron seems to be looking respectfully; that may change, but you’re happy to see it, for now.

“So Derek mentioned you’re all in the FBI; are you the boss? You look like the boss,” you say with a playful smile, and Aaron looks a little nervous when he nods, makes eye contact.

“Until someone decides to overthrow me,” he jokes, deadpan, and your smile gets brighter. Dry sense of humor, check.

“I’d like to see them try; I definitely sense that you can handle your own.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Derek hiding a smile behind his hand. He knows you’re flirting, even if no one else does, and another reason you hope to take Aaron home is so you can wipe that smile off his face—but mostly because Aaron’s gorgeous, and you know it would be a very good time for the both of you.

“Let’s play darts,” Derek says to the other people at the table—you can’t remember their names at the moment, all your attention focused on Aaron—and they get up and walk over to the board, so it’s just the two of you.

Aaron clears his throat. “Thank you. What do you do for work?”

“I’m in publishing; a copy editor. Mostly Tom Clancy type action novels, and romance novels. Lots of heaving bosoms and cries of overwhelming pleasure, you know?” You take a sip of your drink through the straw, looking over at him as innocently as you can. He’s a little flushed; you’re a huge fan of that look on a man. “Do you ever read romance novels?”

“Uh, no. Not my genre.” He takes a sip of his drink, and you watch his mouth while he does.

“Not mine either. When you edit enough of them, they become wholly unsexy… and they never compare to real life.” You flick your eyes over his body, briefly but not subtly, and he gives you a glance back. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest. “So what do you like to read? Wait, may I guess?” you ask, setting a hand on his arm. He nods, and you carry on, leaning just a little closer. “So I’m going to guess you’re a fan of the classics, novels you’ve read a hundred times. I think you would tell me your favorite is To Kill a Mockingbird,” you say, tapping against his sleeve, “and maybe intellectually it is, but you actually feel more when you read Moby Dick. I bet your heart yearns for adventure—not that life as a crime solving FBI agent is boring, but it's all too real. Moby Dick is the perfect blend of adventure and fantasy for a man like you.”

“You’ve known me for all of ten minutes,” he says with a raised eyebrow, and you shrug and take a drink.

“True. But am I right? Or close?” He smiles, the first full, unguarded expression he’s given tonight, and you feel awesome for making that happen.

“My favorite book is Moby Dick. I make a point to read it at least twice a year. You’re good.”

“Thank you.” You pull back, take your hand off of his arm; you’ve laid the groundwork for touching, and he’ll have to make a move if he wants more. “People often tell you a lot they don’t intend to, and books are my thing, so it’s easy for me to connect the dots. I recommend books to people as a kind of party trick.” You stir your drink, and he shifts a little, sitting closer.

“Have you disappointed many people with your recommendations?”

“Oh, I make it a personal mission to never leave anyone disappointed,” you say, your voice low and sweet like honey. His eyes move to your mouth. You sweep your tongue over your bottom lip. “Derek said your friends are trying to get you to loosen up; can I ask why?” He flicks his eyes up to yours, frowns a little, like he’s not sure that’s something he’s ready to tell you; ultimately, he just sighs.

“I’ve been divorced for five years, alone for five years. They think it’s time I…” He trails off, shrugs.

“Get back in the saddle?” you offer, and he laughs lightly, agrees. “Is that something you’re interested in? You shouldn’t feel pressured into it if you’re not ready.” You might want to sleep with him so badly it’s sickening, but not at the expense of his well-being.

He exhales deeply and lifts his arm to rest it on the back of your chair; you want to smile, but the conversation doesn’t call for it, so you hold off.

“I think I’m ready, but how do you really know?” You turn toward him a little more, lean against his arm; it feels easy, comfortable, almost like a real date and not you flirting like your life depends on it and hoping to get a bite.

“I think you should wait to meet someone who makes you feel a spark, and then explore it. Maybe it burns hot, but doesn’t last. Maybe it’s a slow burn. Maybe it’s a bit of both. I think when you’re really ready to put yourself out there, you’ll know.” He holds your gaze, wets his lips, takes a breath.

“You’ve been flirting with me.” You do smile a little, then.

“Yes, Aaron, I have.”

“Did Derek put you up to it?”

“Absolutely not.” You touch his arm again, gentle, lean in close. “I’m genuinely interested in you. You’re everything I’m attracted to in a man.” His smile doesn’t touch his eyes.

“Old and uptight?”

“Older, and kind, and capable of having a conversation about more than just sports and money, and handsome. Very handsome.” You lift your fingers from his arm, brush them through his hair over his temple. “I feel a spark. Do you?”

“Yes,” he breathes, and when you set your hand on the table, he covers it carefully with his. His hand is big, warm, softer than you’d expected, and you’re met with the sudden urge to feel it all over your body. “I feel a spark.”

“Good. Do you want to come home with me tonight? No strings attached—just to get you back in the saddle,” you say with a tilt of your head, and he nods.

“I want to.” You’re certain that the smile that crosses your face is softer, inviting, but you get the feeling he won’t kiss you while his friends could be watching. You’re actually surprised he’s touching you so openly.

“Okay, so why don’t you give me a ride home? I was going to have to call an Uber, since my friend didn’t show up, but you’re a gentleman, aren’t you? You wouldn’t let me do that.” He catches on to what you’re saying, the excuse you’re giving him to give his friends, makes a noise of understanding.

“Of course. I wouldn’t rest not knowing you made it home safely.”

“I’m not sure how much rest you’ll be getting tonight,” you murmur, and you rest your free hand on his thigh under the table, squeeze a little. He’s very firm, and you kind of melt. “But that’s a very sweet sentiment, Aaron. Are you committed to staying here much longer?”

“Not at all. Would you like to leave now?” You hold his gaze for a moment, want to be really sure about this; you’re no expert on body language, but you’ve been here before, and he really does look less tense than when you first showed up, more comfortable and open. All really good signs.

“Yes, please.” He squeezes your hand, then stands, smooths out his jacket, and tells you he’ll be right back while he goes to say goodbye to his friends. You stand too, finish what’s left of your drink, and pull out your phone to text Jay.

Taking home the most incredible man. Guess I don’t need my wingwoman after all.

J: Tell grandpa I said he better treat you right.

Please. He’s not that old. If anything, you can call him daddy. :P

J: You can call him daddy. Have fun ;) The ride to your apartment starts out quiet, but you try to fill it by asking Aaron more about himself. You keep your hands on him while you chat, leaning as close to him as you can while wearing your seatbelt, running your hand up and down his leg, over his arm while he shifts gears. You know it’s turning you on, and you’re fairly certain it’s turning him on as well.

You learn more about his job, that he basically solves crimes by judging people, which is kind of funny; before that, he was a lawyer, which you can definitely see. He has one child, a daughter who’s upset with him because of the divorce (someone’s dad, check), and a brother who lives in New York, no living parents. It’s more information than you usually get out of someone you plan to sleep with, but you really do like him, and since he’s not the one night stand type, you think more conversation is the right way to go.

He asks about you too, about your family and your job and your lame friend who bailed on you, and when he arrives outside your building, parks in the lot, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean in closer, smoothing a hand over his waist.

“I’m really glad I met you tonight,” you breathe, looking up at him, and he puts his hand on your cheek and you meet for a slow, easy kiss. “Hmm. I knew you’d be good at that.”

“I knew you’d be good at that, too. You have the most beautiful lips.” He brushes his fingers over them, and you take his hand, bring two of them into your mouth to suck softly. His breath hitches, and you feel your panties getting damp. God, he’s gorgeous. “Let’s go inside,” he whispers, and you slip his fingers out, drop a hand to his lap where he’s—oh, so perfectly hard it’s unreal.

“We could get started out here, have a little adventure,” you say playfully, fully prepared for him to say he’d rather not, but he just licks his lips and looks at you like you’re going to be the death of him, but at least he’ll die happily. That’s another look you’re a huge fan of on an older man.

You undo his belt, his button and his zipper, pull his cock out of his pants; he’s of average length, thick, makes your mouth water, and you lean in to use that to your advantage, getting him wet with your saliva and then stroking him in your hand. You look up at his face, and he’s got his eyes closed, head back against the headrest—so fucking sexy. You reach your free hand under his shirt, where he’s hairy, strong, but a little soft, just the way you like it, and he opens his eyes and pulls you close for a kiss that’s a bit harder than the last.

“You’re absolutely perfect,” he sighs against your lips, and you press closer for another kiss. You almost regret the adventure comment now, because you want to undress him, and touch him, feel him all over, but you’ll just have to be patient. (That’s never been your strong suit.)

“Are you kidding? You are… everything. If I could build a dream man, he would literally be a copy of you.” He makes a sharp, self-deprecating sound, and you lean down to get him wetter, move your hand a little faster. “I’m completely serious. I’m a little upset I’ve been going to that bar for so long and our paths never crossed.” One of his hands moves to your hair, and he pulls you close for a kiss; he’s ready to come, you can tell, and you want him to more than anything, so you cover his hand with yours and dip your head, sucking his dick like you’re desperate for it. When it comes to Aaron, you’re kind of desperate for everything.

“Oh, god. That feels so good, baby.” You moan at the pet name—is there anything better in the world than an older man calling you baby? Maybe just Aaron specifically calling you baby—and he tightens his fingers in your hair while you glide over him, tight and wet, until he comes in your mouth.

You swallow it down, pull off breathless, and then swipe your tongue over him so he’s clean enough that you can tuck him back into his pants. You look up at him from his lap, and he’s panting too, rubs his fingers over your lips, your chin, down your throat. You’re desperately horny now, soaking wet, and when you shift to sit up, he catches you for a deep, steamy kiss, and that does nothing to help your situation.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and ugh, your heart flutters. Seriously, who created this man? He’s incredible. “Now let’s go inside so I can make you come, too.”

“Definitely,” you agree with a nod, and you kiss him once more before pulling back and climbing out of the car, straightening yourself up. He does the same, then walks over to you, takes your hand, and follows you into your apartment.

Sex with Aaron is… talk about adventure. He fucks like—well, like he hasn’t done it in over five years. As soon as you get inside the door, he gets on his knees, pulls your panties down, lifts your skirt up, and eats your pussy with such enthusiasm you come with your hands in his hair, rocking against his face, in less than three minutes. Seeing him down on the ground in the full suit, just going to town on you, is not an image you’ll soon forget, that’s for sure.

After that, the two of you stumble to your bedroom, hands all over each other, tugging at zippers and discarding clothes—he has you keep your shoes on, and that makes you feel slutty like a porn star, and super hot—and you kiss, touch, moving your hands all over each other's bodies until he’s hard again. You stay in missionary, and after he slips on a condom from your bedside table, he slides into you, kisses your lips and your neck and your shoulders while he rolls his hips against yours.

It’s slow and sensual at first, and you drag your nails lightly across his back, tilt your head when he nips at your throat.

“Aaron, oh. You feel so good,” you breathe, scraping your fingers through his hair, and his thrusts get a little deeper, his kisses a little rougher.

“You’re incredible. So gorgeous.” He moves a hand to your breast, massages it while your bodies work; you hitch your legs up higher, moan, and pull him closer, your hands on his body, and he fucks into you more frantically, humping against you hard, wildly. You’ve never really gotten fuck you like an animal, but that’s kind of what he’s doing, and you’re into it, clinging to him, pushing into his thrusts like it’s possible to take him deeper than you are now.

God, he’s going to spoil you, ruin you for all other men. You’re going to have your best sex at 28 and then be chasing this feeling the rest of your goddamn life. It’s both amazing and horribly unfair.

“Yes, Aaron, yeah. Fuck me hard, fuck me deep.” He groans, pounds inside you, moves his hand from your breast to the back of your neck and stares down into your eyes while he absolutely destroys you. You come clenching around him, pulling his hair and digging your nails into his shoulder, and his mouth comes crashing down for a kiss while he thrusts through it and then stutters, his orgasm right behind yours.

You sag against the pillow behind your head, and he puts his weight on you, hand still clamped around the nape of your neck, and breathes hot against your throat.

You stare up at the ceiling, catching your breath, and thank fucking god Jay stood you up tonight. Aaron is very sweet, kissing you and holding you, murmuring against your skin, and the two of you go to the bathroom, get cleaned up, and then raid your kitchen for snacks, talking easily and laughing. He doesn’t look like he’s about to bolt, which you’d been a little worried about; in fact, he actually suggests taking your snacks back to bed, jokes about not getting any crumbs on your white sheets. Never one to kick a man out abruptly after sex, and especially not a man like Aaron, you agree, and you end up in bed again, which means…

Another frantically torn condom wrapper later, and you’re on your stomach, your nipples rubbing against the sheets. Aaron’s hands are on your ass while you work yourself on his cock, rolling your body, moaning desperately like you aren’t already two orgasms deep; his dick hits just right, and between that and the nipple stimulation you’re coming fast, bucking hard against him so he’ll follow.

“Fuck, baby, coming already?” He tightens his grip, slams inside you, plants one hand on the bed to change his angle a bit. “Let’s try for another; your body is so perfect, built for sex, built for me.” You groan, roll your eyes back because his dirty talk is hitting the spot, and the two of you fuck together, noisy and eager and hot, until he shudders, squeezes your ass hard and starts to come.

You’re so close, right on the edge, and you sound wild because of it, your moans high, whimpering, your fingers digging into the sheets.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you beg, grinding against him, and he puts both hands hard on your hips, rails you into the bed.

“I’m not stopping until you come for me. Come for me,” he murmurs, and he wraps one hand around the front of your body, rubs your clit, and you climax, squeezing your eyes shut, seeing stars. You moan his name, drop your hand to cover his where it rests against your pussy, and this time when his body drapes across your back like a weighted blanket, you sigh and close your eyes.

He kisses your back and shoulders, runs his big hands over your hips and ass, then slides off and guides you to the edge of the bed, lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom. You think absently that you could get used to being treated this well, and you must say it, because he presses a kiss to your lips and whispers, “I will if you let me.”

There’s a little talk in bed, after you’re cleaned up and cozy beneath the comforter, about going on a real date; Aaron seems nervous, like he thinks you won’t go for it, that all you wanted was this night of sex. And yes, while that’s typically your MO, something about Aaron is different. He makes you want more, things like dates and picnics and sweet lovemaking at night and kisses—all the kisses, everywhere, all the time.

You ask him to stay, and he promises he will, and you fall asleep in his arms. It’s the best you’ve felt in a really long time.

You wake up to Aaron’s sleepy, handsome face, and you kiss and smile into each other’s lips, because last night was great, but this is even greater. Your plan is to take a shower together and then go out for breakfast, but there’s a knock at your door just as you’re planning to step in.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” you tell him with a kiss, and you pull on your robe and peer through the peephole, then pull the door open. “Well, well; now you decide to show up.”

Jay steps in with a box of doughnuts and two cups of coffee, looking properly shamed.

“I know, I’m a horrible friend. I broke the slut code: stay slutty, but never at the expense of your best girl.” You crack a smile, because you could never really be mad at her, but especially not after last night. You’re about to say that, but she looks over your shoulder at the clothes still strewn about your living room and grins. “Holy shit. Is your old man still here?”

“He’s not an old man, and yes, he’s in the shower, so shut up.” She shoves the doughnuts and coffee carrier into your hands and brushes past you, toward your bedroom, and you groan. “Jay, no, come on.”

“I just want to get a glimpse of him,” she says, peeking her head into your room. She sees more clothes, and the condom wrappers, looks back at you with a cocked eyebrow. “Okay, someone had a good time last night.”

“Yes, it was fucking incredible. He’s a sex god, I’m not even kidding. He ate my pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in months, then fucked me twice, so hard and sexy, and then he asked me if he could take me on a date, Jay.” You smile wide, can’t help it. “I really like him, so I actually owe you for not coming out last night.” She smiles back, pulls you close for a hug, and you step back with your hands on her shoulders. “So thank you, and thanks for coming to apologize, but can you please leave? I really don’t want to miss out on some potential good morning shower sex.”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s all from a place of love, and she turns to head out of your room.

“Okay, but only because cockblocking you would mean breaking the slut code again, and I can’t have my membership card revoked. I have a date with the almost frat boy again tonight.” She grins, and you shake your head, pull off your robe when you hear the door shut and head for the shower.

Good morning shower sex has never been so good. One month and twelve dates later, and you’re head over heels for Aaron. He is so sweet, and smart, and secretly funny, the perfect gentleman when you’re in public and an absolute manic in private, and you seriously could not have imagined a more perfect man.

Jay is maybe a little tired of hearing you talk about him.

You’re out for breakfast on a Saturday morning—Aaron is on a case in Indiana, or you’d probably be with him—and she sighs around a bite of french toast.

“I get it, he’s the best lay you’ve ever had in your life. He makes your pussy wet and your heart horny, or whatever. When do I get to meet the old man who’s got you wrapped around his big sexy fingers?”

“He’s supposed to be home tonight, maybe I’ll see if he’s feeling up to drinks?” Sometimes he’s really worn out after these cases, and you don’t blame him, but occasionally they must touch him in a way that makes him want to enjoy life, because you’ve had some nice dates the same day he gets back. You’ll ask, and if he’s not up for it, you’ll reschedule.

“Ooh, yes. I can’t wait to finally get a good look at the hunk who turned my maneater best friend into a monogamous whore.” You gasp, affronted, and she cackles, takes a sip of her iced coffee. Sometimes you can’t even remember why you’re friends—but she never fails to do something completely unexpected and sweet that reminds you eventually. “Hey, maybe now that you’re obsessed with this guy, you can finally meet my dad, since I don’t have to worry about you trying to suck his dick at first sight.”

You know that Jay’s relationship with her dad has been a little rough since her parents split up, and you’ve always thought that maybe you could get her to open up to him, to talk to him, if you could get to know him, but her fears about your taste for older men have always been hilariously real. As if you can’t control yourself; as if you’d ever actually date her dad.

“Well I’ll have to ask my old man; maybe he’s down for a threesome?” It’s her turn to act offended, and you laugh and send Aaron a text about this evening before you forget.

Can’t wait to meet the infamous Jay, he replies, and you won’t lie, you’re feeling really good about your two favorite people finally getting to know each other.

That night, you and Aaron beat Jay to the bar, because of course you do—that bitch is never on time for anything.

You’re feeling cute in a sexy turtleneck dress (the neck of which Aaron tugged down to place a hickey under when you rode him on the couch before coming here) and a set of earrings he bought you—you’re wearing a set of lingerie he bought you, too for later—and he looks gorgeous in a dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

You can barely keep your hands off of him, squeezing his thigh, kissing his neck; you only give him an inch of space when he gets up to run to the restroom, and even then, the way he smiles and presses his lips to yours before he goes makes you want to cancel drinks and take him home so you can be alone.

But Jay asked to meet him, and you have been a little obsessed lately, so you want to do this and make her happy.

You look down at your phone, ready to hit her with some inflammatory where the fuck are you??? texts, when she drops into the seat Aaron had just vacated, breathless.

“Sorry, sorry. Traffic was really bad, and I got into this huge fight with my mom on the phone...” She pulls off her jacket, drapes it over the back of the seat.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, concerned. The two of them usually get along pretty well.

“Yeah, she’s just pissed because my dad has a new girlfriend—which is stupid, because she’s the one who wanted to divorce him, so why does she care? But anyway, I told her I’d meet her and be nice to her, because it’s important to him, and she expects me to take her side or something. I don’t know. Let’s just say I’m really glad I’m out for drinks with you and your old man so I can forget about my problems for a while.” She takes a deep breath for practically the first time since she started talking, then looks around, realizes it’s just the two of you. “Hey, where is he, anyway?”

“Restroom,” you say with a smile, but something more must creep onto your face, because she rolls her eyes playfully.

“And you didn’t follow him in there for a little stall action?”

“Ew, no. That’s more your speed than mine; we had sex before we came, anyway, look at this hickey.” You pull the neck of your dress down and she whistles, impressed.

“Congrats on having such good pussy, babe. I know you’re sickeningly obsessed with him, but it looks to me like he’s got it bad for you too.” You grin, instinctively want to gush over him, but you see him walking over out of the corner of your eye, so you hold off.

He’s frowning, though, and you’re not sure why.

“Julie?” Jay whips her head around at the sound of Aaron’s voice, and her eyes get wide.

“Dad? What are you…” You stand up abruptly, looking up at Aaron, and Jay stands too, looking between you, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I… We…” He swallows, looks at you like you’ve both made a terrible mistake. You’re surprised how much that look hurts, but you know you have to take care of Jay before you can feel sorry for yourself.

“Jay, listen to me, okay? I swear to god I didn’t know.” You’re begging, pleading with your eyes, your hands on her shoulders. “I did not know.” She shakes her head like it’s not making sense, but when she lets herself connect the dots, she brings up a hand to cover her mouth.

“Oh my god. Are you fucking kidding me?” She pulls away from you, looking at you like you punched her in the face. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Jay, I didn’t—”

“Julie,” Aaron says, reaching for her, but she steps back, palms up.

“I seriously can’t believe this. You two… After every joke we made about me keeping you away from him?” She looks at you like you betrayed her, and you exhale, shrug sadly.

“It’s not like I went looking for him, Jay. We just… found each other.” You don’t look at Aaron, because if the last month hasn’t meant the same things to him, you’ll have to be okay with that. “I know it’s shocking, and I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it feels like to find this out, this way.”

“You’re right, you can’t imagine. I just fought with my mom about my dad’s new girlfriend, and it’s-it’s you.” She laughs, humorless.

“You fought with your mom? When?” Aaron asks, crossing his arms, and it’s so clear how much he cares about Jay. Her eyes fly to his.

“On the fucking way here. She told me about your new slut girlfriend, and I was defending you! I told her I’d meet her if you asked me to, that I’d be nice because I know she’s important to you! And it’s you,” she practically spits, turning to you. “Such a whore that you’ll fuck anyone over forty who can still get it up, including my fucking father.” Her tone stings, and people are looking at the three of you, but you take a breath, remind yourself that she’s just angry right now, and she loves you, doesn’t mean that.

“Julie, that's enough. I’m taking you home and we can talk about this there.” Aaron steps past her, picks up her jacket, and glances over at you, but you’re collecting your things and and pulling up a rideshare app to get yourself the fuck out of there.

You head for the bathroom to wait it out until your ride comes, and you definitely don’t cry because the two people who bring you the most happiness in the world are gone and they barely even looked back. It’s five days before Jay shows up at your door with apology doughnuts and a bottle of rosé. You eat and drink and cry on each other, and then laugh at each other, and your heart feels a little healed by the end of it.

“I’m sorry I called you a whore. It’s just… what are the odds, after everything we said, that you would actually hook up with my fucking dad.” You laugh and take the last bite of your doughnut.

“You don’t think I was a little startled by that turn of events? I was as shocked as you. I knew he had a daughter around my age, but that’s not really what we talked about, you know?” She shoves half a doughnut in her mouth and cackles.

“You don’t talk a whole lot, from what I’ve gathered.”

“Didn’t,” you say, and your whole mood shifts. She looks confused. “We didn’t talk a whole lot. He hasn’t spoken to me since the night you found out.” She pulls out her phone, starts texting.

“Okay, I told him I was okay with you guys like, two days ago, so this probably means he’s spiraling. He tends to do that—get in his own head and beat himself up for things that aren’t his fault.” She looks up from her phone, gives you a soft smile. “Will you forgive me if I tell you he’s moping at home right now, and that I know he’ll be happy to see you?” You roll your eyes a little.

“I already forgive you, Jay, but if he hasn’t called me, maybe there’s a reason. Maybe he was looking for an out, and I gave him one, or maybe he can’t feel the same way I do because he knows we’re friends.”

“He told my mom about you, remember? He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t serious about you, and I don’t think he’d be acting this emo if he didn’t have feelings for you.” She reaches out, covers your hands with hers. “I’m really, really sorry I fucked this up for you guys. Weirdness aside, I know what good people you both are, and I hate that you were happy and I took that from you guys. I’m 100% supportive of you being my future step-mom,” she says with a grin, and you roll your eyes again and give her a hug and then jump up to get a shower.

You’re going to go get your old man.

When you knock on Aaron’s door an hour later, he looks surprised to see you.

“I thought you’d be Julie,” he says softly, and you sigh.

“I know. She sent me. She wants us to get our heads out of our asses, but I told her I don’t know where your head is, because we haven’t spoken.” Seeing him makes you feel a little better, because he does look like he may have been moping the last few days, so that must mean the spark is still there, right? “If you want me to leave, just tell me, and I’ll go; I’ll get out of your life and you can pretend it was just a casual thing, if that’s what you want.” Your heart aches at the thought, but you’d understand, if being his daughter’s best friend is an obstacle he can’t overcome.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says after a long, painfully drawn out moment. “I don’t want you to ever leave. And I could never pretend this was casual.” He steps forward—so handsome in a t-shirt and jeans it makes you long to press kisses all over his face, to hold him and be held by him—and his eyes are trained on yours. “I know nothing about us is conventional, but it doesn’t matter to me if it doesn’t matter to you. I want to be with you.”

You take a deep, calming breath, exhale and nod. Your hands ache to reach out and touch him.

“I want to be with you, but only if you can promise that if something comes up with Jay—Julie—we can figure it out together. I don’t ever want to feel the way I felt the other night, and while I get that you had to take care of your daughter, and I’m glad you two talked things out, I can’t just be abandoned if things get weird.” You approach him, wrap your arms around him, and sigh. He hugs you so tightly, rests his cheek against the top of your head.

“I promise. I know I could have handled that better, but the situation was just so...”

“I know, that’s okay. Family comes first—but just so you know, she gave me her full support to campaign to become her new step-mom,” you say, pulling back with a teasing smile, and he shakes his head and grins. “So, one last question: Are you ready to get back in the saddle, Aaron?” He leans in and kisses you so hard you’re breathless, weaves his fingers into your hair.

“Sounds like my kind of adventure.” Message sent with high importance: Do not disturb! Your dad’s indecent.

J: Gross. Thanks for the warning, mom.

That’s step-mom, to you. Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

[phoenixyfriend]

Uncle Ben and Little Luke

AKA we combine several types of time travel for maximum Soft Chaos, let’s go

EDIT NOW THAT I’VE WRITTEN THIS UP: jfc this ended up much angstier than initially intended uhhhhhhhhhh sorry

So a common enough thing I’ve seen in time travel fics is characters getting de-aged when tossed back physically, to neither the age they should be in that time, nor the age they were from the time they left, but whatever is most convenient. This is usually de-aging OT Obi-Wan into his TCW self, for reasons relating to, chiefly, removing the damage of Tatooine absolutely destroying his body alongside PTSD-driven alcoholism, but also because fic writers are horny, and Ewan McGregor playing a late-thirties negotiator is on average more appealing to people than Alec Guinness playing a vaguely feral desert hermit.

So, here’s how it plays out:

We take Luke and Ben from some point in the OT. There are a variety of options depending on how angsty we want it to be. My first instinct is ‘right after Owen and Beru die’ but I want to have that sweet angst where Luke knows that his dad is Vader and that Obi-Wan was trying to convince him to kill his own father without telling him that.

We’ll go with shortly after Bespin, and then they end up significantly before TPM. The Obi-Wan of the timeline proper is, eh, let’s say eighteen. Not really ready to be a knight, but old enough that we don’t have to worry about “if we go save Shmi, do we somehow wipe out Anakin?” which is absolutely a worry. Anakin is a toddler, and is in no place to be evil, on account of being literally two years old. He can’t even explode people with his brain yet.

Now, Ben finds himself mid-thirties, as is traditional. He’s not upset at this, because his joints hurt so much less than they used to! His knees aren’t exactly teenage-perfect, but by the Force are they better than they were in the years before he died! His hair has color! He doesn’t have arthritis! And, goodness, no physical withdrawal symptoms! The psychological aspect is still there, but nonetheless, he’s in much better shape than he last remembers being.

Luke looks like he’s about six. He was recently twenty-two. This is not an upgrade. Ben keeps having to carry him. He can’t see over the counter when they enter a bar for information. He can’t enter the bar in the first place. He’s very annoyed by all of this.

Ben is not annoyed. Ben is having a lot of emotions, actually, but annoyance isn’t one of them. He didn’t get to help raise Luke the way he might have if Anakin hadn’t lost his shit, okay, he sees a small Luke and he wants to hug him and cry.

Luke would like to be able to purchase a speeder part without the lady at the stall asking him if he needs his “dad’s” permission.

Once they figure out when and where they are, they need to decide where and how to leave. There are general shenanigans to gamble their way into enough money to hire a ship. They are in the ass end of nowhere, but definitely not Tatooine. There appears to be a jungle. There appears to be a significant variety of man-eating creatures. There appears to be a temple to the Force of questionable origin. None of this is actually helpful, except for the moment they find a “baby’s first lightsaber” in the temple.

Luke only has one hand and, being a six-year-old, his body is growing too fast for him to bother with getting a wired-in prosthesis the way he could as an adult. He can get a more basic prosthesis, but nothing that attaches to the neurons. He’ll outgrow it too fast.

He’s tiny and he’s not used to doing things with just one hand. He uses the Force to do what one hand can't, and every time someone tries to tell him he's misusing the Force he whaps them with the empty sleeve.

So, you know, they find out what year it is. Ben has a breakdown. Luke is upset that he left behind his friends. Ben admits to him that Leia was his twin. Luke stares in horror because dude, she kissed him, you couldn’t have mentioned this earlier???

Ben points out that Beru and Owen were keeping Luke away from him for nineteen years, and then they had about three days of awkward travel to find Leia in the first place, and then Ben died. He didn’t have a whole lot of time to figure out how to tell him.

(This sparks an argument that lasts several days. All onlookers assume that Ben’s son is throwing a tantrum. He doesn’t correct them, even though this is a very valid reason to be upset, because the truth is much harder to explain.)

Sooooo they travel. Mostly, Ben plays Sabacc, cleans house, and pays their way towards Coruscant. Luke still really wants to learn to be a Proper Jedi, even though Ben is pretty sure that Luke would have... a lot of difference of opinion with the Temple, but sure. Coruscant. They can at least stop by, and see Qui-Gon, and Mace, and Quinlan, and Bant, and everyone else that’s still alive and not tragically deceased in the horror following the start of the Clone Wars and then the birth of the Empire, and Ben can have a nice sob over all his dead friends being alive again.

Ben is only barely holding it together while Luke is in the room with him at any given point. But it’s fine! It’s fine. He’s fine. All of his loved ones have come back to life! It’s great! HE’S FINE.

He is not fine.

Luke is also grieving all the people who haven’t been born yet, but he’s... significantly more okay than Ben is.

The closer they get to the Core, the more often people just assume Ben is Luke’s father, and then look shocked and uncomfortable when Luke flatly calls him by his name, and they just... compromise. This is the point at which Luke starts calling him “Uncle Ben.”

Ben cries in his bunk later that night. Luke overhears it and wonders how the HELL Ben is more unstable now, when there’s a chance to fix things and no Vader or Empire trying to kill or capture both of them, and all his friends are alive.

(Luke will later learn a lot about PTSD and realize this is actually a fairly normal situation, to process significant events and emotions only after gaining safety or catharsis.)

(Twenty years on a ball of sand with an alcohol addiction and debilitating fear of the man you raised as your own brother is not, in fact, safe or cathartic.)

At any rate, they’ve settled into that pattern by the time they reach the Inner Rim. The Inner Rim is the part of the galaxy at which they’ve collected enough money (and mental stability) to travel a little better, and to take a few more risks.

Risks like “manipulate people with those baby blues.”

Ben tells Luke that he’s a menace, after he pouts so cutely that he gets a free scarf added on to a purchase that Ben makes. Luke responds that Ben has no room to talk, since he flirted a free breakfast out of that one inn owner.

Also, Luke is currently physically six. That is objectively a situation that sucks. He deserves to use it for all it’s worth if he’s stuck like this.

“You know, if you keep wearing all-black and looking longingly at the velvet cape and Space Chanel boots, the temple is going to worry that you’re a darksider.”

“Uncle Ben... you told me, yesterday, that I sparkle so brightly in the Force that it’s almost blinding.”

“Yes, but the gloves--”

They don’t agree on this, but Ben relents. He does actually understand good fashion, unfortunately, and he’s not unaware of how much Leia taught Luke about such things.

Luke’s about forty years ahead of the curve, of course, but Skywalkers are prone to such things. It’s usually in regards to technology, granted, but...

They get to Coruscant. Ben is very obviously a Jedi. He knows all the right words and walks like a Soresu master and feels warm and comforting in the Force. They let him in with minimal questions. They note down “my first padawan left the order to have a child, but died shortly after; I consider Luke here to be my nephew, and have raised him as such,” and move on.

Luke is vaguely annoyed because he already had an uncle (and aunt) that raised him, but he admits that a person can have more than one uncle. He can live with this. Ben was more family to Anakin than Owen was, in some ways, so it’s kind of true. Luke is even working on feeling more childish affection for Ben instead of the complicated mess of emotions that come from being lied to about some very large and important subjects, and then seeing the person saying those lies have regular emotional breakdowns due to something as small as Luke saying he likes the curve of the hull on that freighter.

(Apparently he sounds just like his father did as a child. This is almost heartwarming.)

The thing is! The thing. The thing is, they almost make it to the Halls of Healing to get looked over for weird viruses, or Outer Rim Parasites, or whatever the hells needs to be happening. They almost make it without Ben having a flashback to dead younglings or brainwashed troopers or the declaration of a Sith Empire. They almost make it without incident.

Then Ben sees Qui-Gon, and freezes, and does not move again.

Luke cannot get him to restart.

People are staring.

They haven’t even made it to Medical, Uncle Ben, come on.

Young, local Obi-Wan comes over and asks if there’s something he can do to help. Or maybe this “Ben” knows Qui-Gon? Master Jinn doesn’t recognize Ben, but maybe Luke knows more?

Luke does know more, but what Luke actually says is “he probably needs a mind healer.”

(Ben will not appreciate this.)

(Ben is unfortunately standing in the middle of the hallway and completely unresponsive, and is unable to argue with this assertion.)

(Ben is pretty much proving this assertion entirely correct, actually.)

Obi-Wan is helpful, if a little bitchy in the manner of most late-teens individuals, and offers to help get Uncle Ben down to the Halls of Healing. It involves Obi-Wan gently pushing on Ben’s shoulders, and Qui-Gon offering to carry Luke so he can be in Ben’s sights (because Ben is a Mystery, and Qui-Gon is quite fond of those, so he wants to stay involved). Ben kind of just... shuffles on down.

There are medical tests. They ask about how Luke lost his hand. He refuses to talk about it. They ask how Ben got all his scars. Luke says he doesn’t know. They ask if he knows why Ben looks like he’s been through a war. Luke says it’s because he probably was.

They check for foreign viruses. They find evidence of thus-far-unpatented vaccinations. They ask Luke if he knows what he’s vaccinated for.

“How would I know? I’m six.”

They agree that this is a good excuse.

(It is not. He’s lying. They do not know this.)

They do some more tests. They find a lot of questionable medical bullshit in Ben’s body. Most of this is from the clone wars, but they don’t know this. Someone realizes they haven’t gotten a ping back from the Shadow Network regarding “do we have permission to pull the medical file of a Jedi that isn’t in the normal database? We’re assuming you know who he is, since we don’t.”

The Shadow Network does not know who Ben is.

The healers, of course, go “huh, that’s weird, but maybe the name he gave his nephew was fake. We can’t exactly ask ‘Ben’ for more details right now. We already had to sedate him. Let’s check the DNA!”

The DNA pulls up as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The padawan who brought this guy in two hours ago.

“Huh, that’s weird. Let’s call in Kenobi and ask if he knows what’s going on.”

Obi-Wan absolutely does not know what’s going on.

They ask Luke.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, lying through his teeth and not even pretending otherwise.

“You’re not a very good liar,” teenage Obi-Wan tells him.

“I’m not trying to be,” Luke says. “Can you get Master Yoda? I feel like we’re going to need him.”

They normally wouldn’t get Yoda on the request of a six-year-old, but they also normally don’t have a catatonic thirty-something Jedi who looks like he’s been through a war popping up in the medical database as the pimply teenage padawan that broke his pinky trying to do a Badass Ataru Flip last week.

Or... whatever Luke i... is... oh dear.

“Young one,” Qui-Gon asks, while people whisper-shout behind him, not realizing he’s cutting the Correlian Knot and just asking the kid himself. “Do you know why your midichlorian count is so high? It’s almost unheard of.”

“Uncle Ben said my dad was the Chosen One,” Luke says, because he is capable of being a little shit and is actually really eager to let Ben deal with some of the fallout. He feels for the man, really, but he’s also tired of being the one to field every single question.

Also, the expressions that pass on Qui-Gon’s face are hilarious.

(Luke may or may not be more affected by his six-year-old brain than he would like to admit.)

“Thank you,” Qui-Gon says, sounding more than a little strangled about it.

It takes another three hours for Ben to wake up.

He listens to the questions. He hears what they say his ‘nephew’ said. He looks at Luke.

“Is this revenge for not telling you about Leia?”

“It’s not revenge,” Luke does not lie. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

“It’s pretty easy to explain.”

“It’s not my secret.”

“This is revenge for the Leia thing.”

“No,” Luke says. “Revenge for the Leia thing was when I ate a live frog in front of you.”

This is the point at which someone interrupts and points out that they appear to be stalling.

“Oh, he is,” Luke tells them. He gestures at Ben. “I can’t tell you more, because it’s more his story than mine.”

“I’m afraid, Master, that I am very likely to have an emotional breakdown if I allow myself to consider the reality of this situation for longer than the fraction of a second I already have,” Ben reports, full of false cheer. “Suffice to say, I am far from stable and have only held out this far for Luke’s sake.”

“Can you explain why you have my DNA?” Obi-Wan asks, as the person who’s most concerningly involved in this situation.

“You can,” Ben says, smiling like there is absolutely nothing wrong in the slightest, ever. “I’m you, from the future. I actually died and spent a few years dead before coming back. I’m not sure why I’m younger than I was when I died, but I appreciate being able to put on my shoes without my knees attempting to mutiny.”

“He needs a mind healer,” Luke reiterates, in case the strained grin hasn’t made it clear. “So do I, but not as much.”

“I have felt literally every person in this Temple save for Luke and Yoda die,” Ben reports, looking a shade more manic than a few seconds earlier. “It’s very overwhelming to feel you all being alive again. I may be approaching a mental breakdown, and I’ve been rather strictly advised against using alcohol to treat my traumas again.”

Luke kicks him in the thigh. It’s not a very hard kick, because he is very small, and he does actually like Ben. “I’m not letting you turn into an old drunk again.”

After several seconds of silence, a healer quietly suggests that everyone clear the room, and asks if someone could fetch Master Yoda as the youngling requested.

(THIS IS ALMOST THREE THOUSAND WORDS. I started it less than two hours ago. Why am I like this.)

[skinnyducky]

the meeting // v.h.

This was probably a bit difficult to write because I didn’t know what approach I wanted to go with. But, I found the best approach that fit my style and I hope you enjoy! Also, I’m going to hold off on pt. 4 of Party at Y/n’s. I don’t really like what I’ve written so far with it and I’m going to rewrite the whole part. But, that means you’ll get more stuff like this so...yippee!

Word Count: 1435, slightly edited

WARNING: fluff, language (i think), sexual jokes, and more fluff

---------

Vinnie rubbed his sweating hands together as he thought about whether or not coming with you to your hometown was a good decision. Sure, he’d be sad for a weekend without you…but that wasn’t worse than having to meet your parents. This was a huge step in your relationship, and something that could make or break it. And that fact that you weren’t even slightly scared made him even more afraid.

“I can’t do this. Maybe you should turn around and drive me back to the airport.” Vinnie sighed, fiddling with his rings.

You laughed, keeping your eyes trained on the road. “Vinnie, there is nothing to be nervous about. My parents are going to love you.”

“You say that now, but what if they don’t?”

“Vinnie, they’re going to love you. I haven’t stopped mentioning you since we started dating. Hell, the minute I told my dad about you and your cars, he cried tears of joy. I’ve never seen him that happy before, and I’m his child.” You explained as you pulled into your driveway. “Look, babe, you have absolutely nothing to be worried about. As long as you’re yourself, they’ll love you.”

Vinnie took your words into consideration, and they filled him with a little comfort. Although, they weren’t enough to completely rid him of his anxiety. But still, he was a lot better now than he was a few minutes ago.

“So, are you ready?” you asked, placing your hand on Vinnie’s shoulder. He looked at you with a worried glance and answered, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two of you exit the car and walked up to your doorstep. You knocked on the door and within a few seconds it opened up to reveal your smiling mother. “Y/n!” she cried, pulling you into a tight embrace. She pulled back and looked at Vinnie who awkwardly stood behind you.

“And you must be Vinnie!” she grinned. “The pictures Y/n sent me don’t do you justice! You’re really cute!”

“Mom!” You groaned. She muttered a sorry before turning back to Vinnie.

Vinnie let out a timid chuckle and stuck his hand out for your mom to shake. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/l/n.”

Your mom grabbed his hand, but instead of shaking it, she pulled him into a hug. “Enough of that formal crap. Please, call me Y/m/n.” The two broke out of the hug and she ushered the both of you inside, the smell of her famous pasta filling your noses.

“Y/d/n, they’re here!” your mom called, shutting the door.

You heard heavy footsteps come from the living room, no doubt belonging to your dad. The very man rushed towards you and Vinnie with an eager grin on his face. “Y/n!”

“Dad!” you exclaimed, rushing into his arms. He spun you around and put you down, moving his attention to your boyfriend. He cleared his throat, putting on his best intimidating dad act as he stomped over to the boy.

“And I’m guessing you’re Vinnie.”

Vinnie gulped, looking your dad in the eye. “That w-would be me, sir.”

It was silent as the men stared at each other. Then out of the blue, your dad laughed. “I’m sorry, man. I can’t do the whole ‘dad’ act like I used to. Call me Y/d/n.” He shook Vinnie’s hand, much to your boyfriend’s surprise. “Nice to finally meet you, Vinnie.”

“You too, Y/d/n.”

“Y/n told us a lot about you. She mentioned you liked cars.” Your dad pointed out. “I’m a car man myself. Gotta Mustang and a 1953 Hudson Hornet.”

Vinnie nearly lost his shit at your father’s small collection. You could practically feel the excitement radiating off of him. “Really?”

“Not that he drives them though. Don’t let the coolness fool you, Vin. He drives a soccer van.” I teased, making my dad blush.

“I drive the van to work and work only.”

I scoffed, “Sure you do.”

Your mom clapped, gathering your attention. “Well, dinner is done. So, we can go ahead and start eating and catch up.”

“But, honey, I wanted to show Vinnie my cars.” Your dad whined.

“You can show him after, sweetie.”

“But-“

“Y/d/n.”

“Sorry.” Your dad sighed and followed your mom into the kitchen. You and Vinnie exchanged looks and broke out into laughter.

“Like I said, very excited to meet you.” You said, leading him into the dining room.

You and Vinnie sat across from your parents who had brought out the large bowl of pasta. The four of you started eating, catching up on life and what not. Well, at least you and your mom did. Vinnie and your dad were too busy talking about their shared love of vehicles to even be interested in the conversation. Dinner ended, much to the pleasure of your dad. Him and Vinnie headed into the garage where your dad would offer him a beer and show off his collection. You and your mom retreated to the kitchen to wash dishes.

“So, what do you think?” you asked, wiping down a plate.

“I like him. He’s a really good guy.” Your mom responded. “He’s much better than any of the other jackasses you’ve dated.”

“He was so nervous coming here. He thought you and dad wouldn’t like him.”

Your mom scoffed, placing a fork in the drying rack. “Why wouldn’t we like him? It’s obvious that he completes you and that you two are perfect for each other. Plus, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your dad so happy before, and I’m his wife.”

“Hah, I said the exact same thing.”

“It’s true. I wouldn’t be surprised if your dad divorced me for him.” Your mom joked. “Our only concern is that you’re happy, Y/n. And its evident that Vinnie makes you more than that, so as long as he keeps doing what he’s doing…he’s good in our book.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now, let’s finish up these dishes. Real Housewives of Atlanta comes on in a few.”

Around the time you two finished the dishes, your boys came strolling back into the house. You and your mom peeked out from the kitchen, watching in secret as your dad and Vinnie talked to each other.

“…and y’know, I’ve never seen Y/n as happy as she is with you. I can tell that you really care for her,” your dad said, “and as long as you keep doing that, I have no problem with you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Your dad chuckled, “Now the ‘sir’ is something I definitely have a problem with. I’m not that old, son.”

A smile found it’s way onto your face as you and your mom walked out. “Well, I wouldn’t really consider you to be young.” Your mom quipped, before turning to Vinnie. “He can’t even get it up as much as he used to.”

“Mom!” you shrieked. “What did I tell you!?”

“No sex jokes. Sorry, honey.”

“Especially one’s that aren’t true.” Your dad added. “I’m like a tank; I’m strong.”

You stared daggers at your dad as you stepped beside Vinnie. “Dad!”

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry.” He apologized, finding his way over to your mom. “So, you two headed back to your hotel?” asked your mom.

You and Vinnie nodded, earning a groan from your dad. “Awe, I wish you could stay the night. Although, I don’t think Y/n’s twin size bed would fit the both of you.”

“You’ll see us tomorrow,” you replied. “Remember? We’re going golfing, right?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot!” Your dad said, placing his hands on his hips. “I guess we’ll see you then.”

You and your parents bid your goodbyes—and your dad may or not have cried a bit. He really wanted to spend more quality time with Vinnie. Thankfully your mom was there to console him and keep him distracted long enough for you two to leave.

Once you got into the car, you glanced over at Vinnie to see him smiling. “What’s got you so giddy?” You asked.

“Your dad likes me.”

“I know, me and my mom were spying on you two when you walked in.” You said, starting the car. “My mom likes you too. So, in the end…you had nothing to worry about.”

“I guess not.”

As you pulled out of your parents driveway, you said, “My dad’s right you know.”

“About what? Him being able to still get it up?” Vinnie asked.

You rolled your eyes and giggled, “No, you idiot. About the fact that you do make me happy.”

You watched as Vinnie broke out into a smile. “I do?”

“You very much do.”