#i put too much effort into this i need 2 uh.... lie down

[i-cant-sing]

What happens to Teen Fushiguro in the Shibuya Arc after Kenjaku & Mahito kidnap her?

Ah yes, I forgot about this one. Okay, so I imagine that they take you underground or wherever their lair is and like idk... cast spells on you to keep you from using your powers against them. You continue to threaten them, hurl insults at them and they find it amusing because 1. You're a child 2. You don't even know how easily they could kill you. 3. You're a child, why are you trying to fight the boss fights??💀

Anyways, you grow on them and they do end up becoming yanderes for you too. I mean, Kenjaku is like grandfather/guardian figure to you, and if like Getou is still alive/concious inside him, then he's like an uncle/godfather figure to you. They're bothe very protective, Getou more than Kenjaku, while Kenjaku is more like those veteran granddads who want you to become the best version of yourself and be independent, so they don't help you unless they absolutely do need to step in, but nevertheless love you. And once you do learn whatever skill/lesson he wanted you to, or actually become independent, he does not want you to use those new skills or become independent and stop relying on him for "protection" (even if u don't want it in the first place) or leave him/try to replace him. Nuh uh.

Same goes for Getou too, only he's far more gentle with you. Of course he wants you to be stronger and independent too, but he's far more likely too jump in to help you way before any true harm befalls you. He's softer in his lessons, always has that gentle smile on his face as he dodges whatever attack you launch on him. Encouraging words as he pats your head while you're on the ground trying to catch your breath.

As for Mahito, he's much more like an annoying older brother who bullies you for shits and giggles but God forbid if anyone else hurts you. I mean he'd still make fun of you for getting hurt, but rest assured whoever harmed you is now obliterated.

Your time with them is spent with Kenjaku provoking you and finding whatever it is that makes you tick and then having you spar with curses or with Mahito (who takes great joy in being a jerk). And sure, compared to all of their other victims, you're in "paradise," but in reality, your mental is taking a plunge very fast. Because Kenjaku and Mahito have realised your trigger point-

Abandonment issues.

So they use that against you. Everyday, they tell you that your father left you, that Megumi never fought hard enough for you because he didn't like you, that Gojo knew Megumi had a sister but he didn't take you in with him, and that the Zenin clan did consider you a nuisance which is why they let Gojo take you to Jujutsu High, just so that Gojo can use you as a weapon.

And sure, you'd argue that none of it is true but when a lie is told enough times, it starts to feel like the truth. So with the constant feed of negative words and being cut off from the outside world, reader couldn't help but believe all those lies, and that's how her self esteem and mental health took a turn for worse. She becomes more isolated, more quiet, more... dead. She lacks the energy to fight off those curses, not even fazed as they come a little too close to actually killing you (obv Kenjaku or Mahito step in before they can). And this is the point where they think that now that they have broken you down, they can start building you up again... and have you join their side of the battle. Of course, you're still against that, just not putting any actual effort into reacting to them, but then... they bring Megumi.

Or well, Sukuna occupying Megumi's body.

You instantly recognised them both- recognised the shift in the energy, recognised the monster who was disguised as your brother and you broke down. Fell to your knees, sobbed hard enough for your body to shake until Sukuna gathered you in his arms and moved to a private space, away from prying eyes.

You cried and cried, and Sukuna didn't need you to actually say anything for him to understand. You were mourning for your brother, who you knew has a target on his back now that he was Sukuna's vessel, who wouldnt be leaving him so easily. He just patted your back and assured you that everything will be alright if you just listen to him, made you remember how he promised that he'd always be there for you, made you promise to stick by his side and nothing bad will ever happen to you.

"Sukuna?" Your teary voice croaked, the curse king hummed in response. "Promise you won't hurt Megumi? Won't let anyone else hurt Megumi?"

Despite everything, you still cared for your brother. You didn't really need him, but the way you begged... Sukuna didn't have the heart to say no.

"Okay. Only if you listen to me." You nodded, sniffling as you rested your head against his shoulder.

From there on, I think that Kenjaku will continue to help you weild your powers to become the perfect vessel for Sukuna (who has actually no intention of using you as a vessel, no he just wants you by his side for eternity, all for him to spoil and pamper). You follow Sukuna's rules, stay indoors and only come out when he let's you accompany him, sometimes he'd let you enter his domain expansion so that you could meet Megumi, who tries to convince you run for your life and don't worry about him.

Now, I like to think that a point comes when Gojo is finally free from the prison realm and is now ready to beat everyone's asses, and that's when Sukuna mentions how he has been having a good time with you, which only provokes Gojo to fucking murder him and even Megumi, before he finally decides to just beat his ass and look for you (probably when you stop Gojo from killing Megumi) and that's how Gojo ends up snatching you away as you scream for Sukuna to not kill Megumi, beg Gojo to let you go because Sukuna would kill Megumi if you're not there. And all of this sounds like Stockholm syndrome to Gojo and the gang, who again, keep you under lock and key.

[ineffablydelighted]

[How exploring the Ineffable Husbands' dynamic in Good Omens can help us figure out what the show/book is all about, Part 3.1/?]

Also called: This human has, apparently, too much time on her hands and will be trying to Effable the Ineffable for [...] hours.

Hiya, Angels! 👋

Hope you're all doing well!

First of all, if you randomly came across this analysis, I guess you would expect me to entice you to read the first two parts beforehand... And you would be absolutely right.

"Obviosleh."

And since I'm nice [and because I fully understand the importance of saving people as much effort as possible to catch a larger audience - Duh 😇], here are the links for Part 1 and Part 2 🥰 so that everyone is on the same page as we dive into Part 3.

As I previously announced, we'll dissect our favorite pair's next two encounters today which are S1 3004 BC (Noa's Arch, The Flood) and S2 2500 BC (Job's ca-

[future me rereading this before dropping - Yep, nope, not happening just yet]

By doing that, I will try my best to prove to you the main point of my analysis I've revealed at the end of Part 2.

Repeat after me: Good Omens is a philosophical essay disguised as comedic/satyric/romantic fiction.

[Yeah... here she is, already giving orders strong recommendations... I'm so Metatroning you right now.]

[And, since I'm at my best when I'm Metatroning people, this is the moment I'm gonna take to strongly recommend you to ingest the human matter of your choosing - Num num num.]

*In Crowley's voice* OOookaay, let's start!

3004 BC (Mesopotamia - Noa's Arch, The Flood)

In S1, Right before this encounter happens, the scene starts by making us, the audience, witness Aziraphale very badly lying to God about the flaming sword, an event that I already mentioned in part 2 because of the contrast it was considering he did tell the truth to a newly Demonized Crawley in comparison.

BUT [Yay, first "but" of Part 3! Are you having fun?], I really want to talk about this bit some more because that remains one of the scenes that, to this day, bugs me THE MOST in Good Omens as a whole.

To sum things up, you're telling me that GOD:

BOTHERED to pop in to ask one of their Angels a question.

That the said Angel seemed suuuuper anxious about from the start: looking everywhere aimlessly, almost asking them WHAT A DAMN SWORD EVEN WAS... basically giving away EVERY TELLTALE SIGN, both in their voice, mannerisms, and the simple fact that they were literally back to the wall, that they were about to LIE, proceeded to give God the UNanswerest answer EVER:

"Oh, must have, uh, must have put it down here somewhere."

And God just... just... LEFT THAT LYING ANGEL ALONE?! Just as quickly as they arrived?! No arguments, no further questions, no reckoning, just... NOTHING. HAPPENED?!

HUH?

WOT?!

WHO?!

WHO THE F DOES THAT?!

WHO DOES THAT?! That is a real question! WHO?!

IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY. SENSE!

THE F-

I mea-

I'll never recover from it.

Oof. Okay, I'm fini-

I NEED an answer in Season 3! This is all I ask! I don't need the world to be saved, I don't need Alpha Centauri, man, I don't even need Aziracrow to reuni- [okay, no, can't say that, even if I like being dramatic, I take that back, this is all I want and all I've ever wanted, please, I just need to see Aziraphale in a white dress and Crowley demanding him to remove his 200 yo jacket on top of it because it "absolutely ruins it", please!] I. NEED. ANSWERS.

*clears her throat* Yeah. So. I'm perfectly fine with this scene. Moving on!

Aziraphale and Crawley meet in Mesopotamia during the year 3004 BC.

Crawley is the first to notice and to greet Aziraphale VERY enthusiastically. Which is, first of all, cute, but also an indicator that they haven't seen each other in a very long time, more precisely, since Eden (a thousand years prior to be exact). We know that because the first thing Crawley says after his "Hello, Aziraphale!" is the direct continuation of their conversation back in Eden:

"So, giving the mortals a flaming sword. How did that work out for you?"

Aziraphale answers what will never cease to bug me:

"The Almighty has never actually mentioned it again."

Which still peaks my interest because it could mean two things, and pretty different things at that:

One, God and Aziraphale never directly interacted again and nobody from the Main Office ever asked him about the flaming sword at all, which made Aziraphale believe that God never asked them anything about it.

OR

Two, God and Aziraphale DID directly interact again but the flaming sword subject has never been brought up once more.

Given the way this sentence is constructed and the emphasis on "actually mentioned it again," I'm more inclined to believe in the second option, which would be a very interesting thing to pounder:

Aziraphale might have a "privileged" relationship with God considering they probably interacted somewhat directly and more than once.

I'll go back to it later because we need to keep that in mind for the Job's case encounter.

Crawley says that it is "probably a good thing" until his attention is drawn to what is happening around them.

Then, they will debate the subject of the day, which is pretty much the same thing as before but formulated differently and condensed:

What is the point of Good and Bad? Do these concepts even have a meaning or not?

The main difference between the two previous encounters compared to this one is that this time, Aziraphale and Crawley are both active in the debate and do find common grounds here and there. It is shown cinematographically: they share the screen.

Aziraphale explains to Crawley that God got "a bit tetchy" and wants to drown the human race (well, at least the Middle Eastern humans) and Crawley takes that announcement astonishingly, which still aligns with his creator-at-heart persona.

"All of them?"

Insists Crawley.

Aziraphale first tries to mitigate what appears to Crawley as an extreme reaction by stating that Noah, his family, and their spouses will be spared but you can see that he, himself, doesn't really believe in what he tries to say.

"But they're drowning everybody else?"

Crawley really, really cannot comprehend what is happening.

"Not the kids. You can't kill kids."

This reminds us of their very first meeting because Crawley, here, judges God and tries to put himself in their place. Again.

Aziraphale answers with a worried nod: both because he is scared (his Fear of God cannot be anything but present at that moment) and because... he agrees.

And THEN, Crawley says that:

"Well, that's more the kind of thing you'd expect my lot to do."

Now that Aziraphale is more inclined to be part of the debate, Crawley tends to be more forthright about his opinion:

If God can do what Satan and his demons do, what is the point of separating the two? Are they, really, that different?

And, more so:

Is God a Good being anyway?

If Good or Bad exists, of course. [Oh, yes, I know I'm annoying. 100% aware. 😁]

To Aziraphale, it is clearly the case, and that is why he tries, again, to mitigate God's actions:

"The Almighty's going to put up a new thing, called a rainbow. As a promise not to drown everyone again."

A rainbow, huh? How interesting...

A rainbow is basically a demonstration of the union between Water and Fire. God and Satan. Good and Bad. Blah blah blah.

Almost as if...

Nahhh...

Almost as if they both needed to exist at all times!

Also, Aziraphale almost sounds like he is interpreting the rainbow as God's excuse for having a tantrum.

Which Crawley responds with a very sarcastic:

"How kind."

That's when Aziraphale cannot bring himself to follow Crawley's opinion any further (even if it is clearly shown he DOES agree, he is just SCARED to be).

After telling Crawley that he cannot judge God, that's when the "Ineffable" word is brought up again. This time, by Crawley. Because he already knows what Ineffable means to Aziraphale:

I am not important, or mighty enough to judge God and I am not supposed to. I am supposed to do what I am told, no questions asked.

Does it sound repetitive? Yeah, because it is 😅 That is Good Omen's main theme, after all.

This story is, as I mentioned before, a satire. Of religion, but also, of the concept of hierarchy, and the danger of ideologies as a whole. "Ineffable" is an ideology. "Ineffable" literally means "so emotionally overwhelming and powerful that you cannot translate into words"...

But Good Omens wants to bring you to ask yourself: cannot or don't want to?

Aziraphale is a character who doesn't want to think by himself because he is scared of a higher power (hierarchy). But he cannot just... stop thinking. Oppositely to Crowley, who kind of always, naturally had that ability.

Therefore, that makes it difficult for the both of them to understand each other [Oh yes, we'll talk about that further when we finally talk about that S2 finale that left us traumatized. According to my rhythm and how my Muse is an erratic bench, I'd say this conversation will occur in about a year or two.] Just as it is difficult for any of us to understand the people who think dramatically differently than us. Good Omens is an invitation to debate with people who do not share our views. That is how we stay open-minded and prompt to change.

Basically, folks: don't blindly stay in the boxes you're in.

Hierarchy is heavily criticized too, because it is a big cause - if not the main one - of people staying put in their respective boxes. Religion is a box among many others, hence the fact I prefer to say that GO mocks ideologies as a whole.

But hierarchy can be different things, and, more so, can use many different tones towards its subordinates: hierarchy can be nice, and affectionate (family, for instance - or not, definitely not always). Hierarchy can also be threatening, physically or mentally, or both (dictatorship, for instance).

Basically: hierarchy can either come from love or fear.

Or... well, both. That's how you get... propaganda? That is the most blatant example that came to my mind. We tend to associate love with good. We also tend to forget how often love has been used as a weapon.

Good and bad are...

[You know the end of the sentence, now, do you? If not, it means I haven't harassed you enough, so let me remind you]

Good and Bad are always mixed up. If they exist.

Anyway, I feel like I'm starting to digress.

.... Actually? I'm not done with that segment just yet.

[You right now.]

Hierarchy can also come from... habits. History. Some hierarchies that we are under today are still there because of how long they have been installed, but not really because they are that relevant anymore. I am not going to bring examples here because I do not want to offend anybody and because you are more than capable of interpreting this statement in a way that speaks to you.

We'll talk about this more when we'll reach the... Jim/Gabriel subject. [In about a year and a half.]

ANYWAY. Moving on to a lighter reflection:

Romantically speaking, Aziraphale remembers that encounter because Crawley displayed strong empathy and concern during that whole meeting.

He asked Aziraphale how he was after the flaming sword incident,

He could not comprehend how killing kids was okay,

He bothered to alert Noah about the escaping unicorn.

[Also, maybe, because damn - Also, it might come as a surprise to you who have seen me fangirling over Crowley for the last 3 parts but my favorite is actually Aziraphale 🤣]

After this conversation, The Flood starts and neither of them is protecting the other from it. Because of habits (after a thousand years spent on earth, they know this will not hurt any of them), but also as a way to tell us, the audience: they have started to realize they were in this together.

[Insert the "We're all in this together" Disney's High School Musical song right here... Yeah! I'm a Millennial, how could you possibly have guessed?!]

They are Equals.

Another really important topic in Good Omens, by the way, but it is time to dive into one of my favorite encounters between Aziraphale and Crowley and-

Huhhhh. I feel like analyzing two meetings including a whole episode in only one part might feel too heavy (to me, at least). So... I guess see you next time? 😅

Bye, Angels!

[No, no, I'm not saying you are "sssuckersss" okay? Just wanted a Crowley gif.]

Need help to find the rest of this analysis? I've got you covered! Follow me, Angel 😇

Previous - Beginning - Next

[vitalazam]

(febuwhump day 1 & 2: touch starved and flinching)

Subz knocks on the doorframe, a habit he’d taken to after surprising Zam one day and getting a sword pointed at his neck. There’d been a panicked, frantic look in his eyes, until he’d realised it was Subz, and he’d quickly switched to panicked, frantic apologising instead. Subz wasn’t going to hold it against him, he’d clearly been through some shit. It didn’t take much effort to make his presence known before entering a room anyway.

This time, Zam is too engrossed in the redstone of his latest farm project to take notice of the knocking, so Subz decides to announce his arrival by greeting him.

“Hey, Zam.” He says, but Zam is still distracted, brows furrowed in concentration. Subz sighs and decides to suck it up, but his caution turns out to not be necessary as Zam jumps at his shadow. He turns quickly enough to realise he’s not getting jumped by Ro and Mapicc, but there’s still remnants of fear in his eyes. “Vitalasy’s making dinner.”

“Oh, I’m sort of in the middle of…”

“Nope, no, no you’re not. Time to eat.”

“But…”

“You’re eating with us. Team bonding. Non-negotiable.” Subz gently moves Zam’s hands away from the redstone, and Zam looks up at him with a dazed look in his eyes. Subz decides then to pull on Zam’s hands more firmly, to pull him to his feet. Zam obeys wordlessly, putting up no more resistance. Even after Zam is stood up, Subz keeps one of his hands firmly in Zam’s, and tugs him along to the kitchen. Zam remains stunned into silence the whole walk, and Subz refuses to acknowledge it out loud, which is a little funny to him.

Subz does drop Zam’s hand once they reach their little kitchen, but only to fumble around in their cutlery drawer and dump spoons in Zam’s hold. He ushers the other out of the kitchen, ordering him to set the table. The dazed look in Zam’s eyes has yet to disappear, and it’s coupled with a slight blush of his cheeks.

He turns to Vitalasy then, who’s tending a pot on the stove.

“Hey, uh,” He starts, and Vitalasy makes a hum of acknowledgement. “Zam could probably use some affection.”

Vitalasy gives him a confused smile. “I mean, I’m down for affection, but he’s not gonna jump me if I do, right?”

“Nah, just announce you’re there. Like petting a cat.”

“Mm, well I know all about that.” Vitalasy teases.

“Fuck off- mm.” Subz is interrupted by Vitalasy bringing a spoon of soup up to his mouth for him to try.

“How is it?” Vitalasy asks.

“Hmm,” Subz mimes as though he’s thinking deeply, “Needs a bit more salt, maybe.”

“Don’t lie to me, it’s perfect.” Vitalasy rolls his eyes and shoves Subz’s shoulder playfully. “Get bowls.”

“Yes, sir.” He turns to fetch bowls from their cabinet, and catches Zam’s gaze. He’s hovering awkwardly in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, looking like he wants to ask something. Subz has no interest in being a mind reader, so just fetches the bowls as requested and makes sure to nudge Zam’s shoulder with his own on the way out.

Once he’s put the bowls out, he turns back to Zam, who’s migrated to hovering near their table.

“Come on, helmet off for dinner.” Zam starts to protest, but Subz cuts him off. “This base is safe. It’s not gonna be found. You can take off your helmet to eat.” He reaches up to lift Zam’s helmet off his head, and places it delicately on the table. This makes Zam blush harder than the hand holding, somehow.

“I see what you mean.” Vitalasy hums, and Zam’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What d’you mean?”

“Nothing, nothing, sit down, the food’s going cold.”

Subz and Vitalasy both ensure that all three of their legs are tangled under the table the whole meal, and it’s clearly flustering Zam, but he also seems to be refusing to acknowledge it. Suits Subz just fine. He wants to see how far he can take it, and by the mischievous look in Vitalasy’s eyes, he’s also happy to play along.

As they eat and talk, Zam seems to relax more and more. He happily clears away the table with them when they’re done, and accepts any friendly bumps between them. He’s only seemingly thrown for a loop when Vitalasy loops their arms together to drag him into the kitchen.

“I cooked, you two wash up.” Vitalasy orders, and winks conspiratorily in Subz’s direction.

“Oh! Yeah! Sure, that’s fair.” Zam rolls his sleeves up immediately. One thing Subz has always respected about Zam is that he’s not one to shy away from hard work. Meanwhile, Vitalasy is quite happy to hop up on a countertop and watch them loftily. He did cook, so Subz can’t really be mad. Washing up isn’t a horrible process, he’s on cleaning duty, Zam is on drying, and they work in companionable silence.

Then, Subz decides to start flicking suds at Zam’s face. He get such an offended look on his face Subz bursts out laughing. He flicks more water at Zam’s face, and he can hear Vitalasy snickering in the background. Zam clearly decides he won’t stand for this anymore, and starts trying to wrestle his way into accessing the sink. Subz, of course, will not be going down without a fight. He grabs a handful of bubbles and tries to shove it down the back of Zam’s shirt. The other gives an indignant shriek, which just makes Subz laugh harder.

They continue play-wrestling and flicking water at each other until Vitalasy clearly gets fed up of just being an observer and dumps a whole water bucket on both of their heads.

“What the fuck?” Zam whines, though he’s clearly not genuinely mad over it. Subz rolls his eyes, and wraps his arms around Zam’s neck, tucking his face into the crook of Zam’s neck. Zam makes a surprised little squeak, and Subz will kindly not let him know that it was kind of cute. Subz is not going to move from here until Zam hugs him back, so he just stays there, peacefully. Zam hesitantly brings his own arms around Subz’s waist, and tucks his own face in Subz’s neck in return. His breath is shaky, and his grip uncertain.

“Thank you.” Zam whispers. Subz doesn’t know quite what Zam is thanking him for, but he’s happy to provide regardless.

“Hey, don’t leave me out of the group hu- oh, you guys are soaked, ew.”

“Who’s fault is that, idiot?!”

[tendertenebrosity]

New Hollow piece! Previous pieces with this character are here: 1, 2, 3, 4. We have skipped forward again.

I crawled out of the river - almost mindless, some sodden shred of self making me exert effort, grab for a handholds and pull myself forward. Gravel and mud slid into the water underneath me and bits broke off the reeds and branches I yanked at.

Something caught - tore - I left it behind and heaved myself up the last few feet, gripping handfuls of mud and wet vegetation desperately in my fists.

Once I was far enough away from the waterline I no longer feared being pulled back under, I flopped onto my side, and from rolled agonisingly over to lie on my back. I gazed uncomprehending up at the sky and lay there, waiting for the thundering of the water in my head to stop. I could feel my heart, pattering rapidly and faintly away somewhere distant. Not here. Here there was just the roar of water, tumbling me over and over myself, and cold water as sharp and stinging as a willow switch, and the brutal shock of hitting stone: all echoing around inside me so I scarcely knew what I was, let alone who.

Who knows, actually? Not me. All right, I couldn’t drown anymore, but that waterfall should have killed me. Should have killed anything.

The sky was blue streaked with pink, I noticed after a while. There were a few brave stars coming out, upriver where the logging camp was.

A frog chirruped, somewhere to my left. My skin was frighteningly numb, but I felt the tiny wet impact as it landed on my chest.

“Hey,” I croaked. I coughed, and the wet rattling in my chest convinced me that I needed to sit up. I scooped up the frog, soft and glistening, with the hand that had the most functional fingers and put it aside gently. I rolled over and heaved up my lungful of river water. Or, you know, whatever I had in there nowadays.

“How dare they,” said the frog.

“Okay, so, I think we should jot that down as a mixed success.” I spat out some riverbed sand, and a clump of moss that was streaked with blood. There was something very badly wrong with my shoulder and my elbow. How had I pulled myself out of the river with it when it bent in the wrong fucking places?

It hurt, of course, but… everything hurt. If I sat here and thought about how much it hurt, I was going to disappear into that tiny shred of willpower in the onslaught again.

“Humans have indeed grown arrogant and disrespectful in the generations since they left these shores,” the forest god said. “How dare they? It is not to be borne!”

I looked down at it, tiny and motionless as a jewelled figurine in the gravel. “Uh.”

“I have been exceedingly patient,” the god said. “I have ignored many large and small indignities. I have been generous in my understanding of their ignorance. I have approached with peaceful intent, and offered terms. And this is how they treat my messenger?”

“Well, I’m touched you care,” I said. I looked around me; this stretch of the river was wide and slow, deceptively lazy-looking brown water sliding by as if to belie the churning nightmare I’d just been through. I’d left a trail of broken vegetation and a collapsed river-bank behind me where I’d come out. I spied something pale and incongruous caught in the tangled roots of the bank. Ah.

“Of course I care,” the god said. “Instruments are not made so easily as that. I attempt to treat with them, and they try to destroy my messenger? Do they think I will forget? Do they think this will cow me?”

“I don’t think they think anything much, really,” I said, shimmying carefully back down the muddy trail. “Forethought is not - exactly - a strong suit of politicians.”

I took hold of my ankle and carefully eased it out of the tangle of roots it had been caught by. I felt my own fingers on my skin, fuzzy, as if I had just sat on it for too long and it had gone numb. But… over there. Right.

I’d thought I was doing pretty well, actually, but maneuvering the curve of the heel around the bend got me for some reason. I rested my head on my intact knee and retched, stomach rebelling and head spinning.

“They will pay for this,” the forest god said.

I lifted my head, alarmed.

“Hey, whoa,” I said, “It’s not that bad.”

“You have not been listening,” it accused me. “You could have been swept out to sea and lost to me entirely. More to the point, this is not about you. This is about - ”

“Disrespect,” I said, heart sinking.

“Yes.”

I grabbed my errant foot, and started to grimly shuffle myself back up the bank. If anything else was missing, I definitely wasn’t getting it back.

“Look, I’m sorry,” I panted. “I messed it up. I’m sorry it went badly. But, you know, I -”

“You are not at fault. You gave them my message.”

Part of me was relieved that; you are not at fault. I quailed at the thought of it being angry with me again. My current state was bad enough, but I knew that I could live through much worse than broken bones.

But it was wrong, actually; this was my fault. Shouldn’t have let them get the drop on me. And I needed to stop the forest god from working itself up into a temper that it would then take out on everybody in the camp.

“Listen,” I said urgently. “You weren’t expecting this, were you?”

It regarded me with all of the furious dignity that could fit in a wet brown amphibian the size of a brooch. “Such should be obvious. Do they not know what I am?”

“Well, no,” I said, surprised. I laid the foot down with shaking hands, studiously avoiding looking at the mess of my knee where it was supposed to attach. There was surprisingly little blood; small mercies I supposed. “They haven’t seen you. Not like I have. So, you weren’t expecting this, but I was, actually.”

“You expected this.”

“Well, not…” I lifted a hand in a limp gesture at the river and myself. “Not all of it. I thought I’d get out of there in… one piece. But I wasn’t thinking they’d listen to me on the first try, that’s for sure.”

“Why would you predict they would be so foolish?”

“They haven’t seen you,” I repeated. “And like I said, we don’t have anything like you were we come from, and we haven’t for… thousands of years. So, no, they don’t really know what you are. All they’ve seen is me.”

“You should be enough.”

I shrugged - which, I do not recommend trying when your shoulders are so fucked up they are different heights. Things crunched and I had to fight off a wave of sick dizziness.  “Why? Anybody can say they’re a god’s messenger. It wouldn’t be a good idea,” I added hurriedly. “Not here. But back home, there would be nobody to be offended. So their first thought isn’t that I’m real, it’s that I’m either some sort of grifter, or I’m crazy.”

The forest god was silent. Thoughtful.

“As far as they’ve seen, I’m the problem. And if I’m just a crazy human with no god behind me, getting rid of me solves the problem. So they took a gamble, and maybe it’s not smart and it’s definitely not right, but it makes sense if you think like somebody who’s managed to get themselves to the top of something like this settlement attempt.”

I took a deep breath, fighting off the dizziness. The forest god sat in what I hoped was contemplation of my point.

“Can… you can put this back, right?” I asked, more piteously than I’d intended, indicating the ruin of my knee. I could still feel it. But nothing had ever come off before. “I… my head healed up, and the stomach wounds… do I put it back, or…”

“It will heal,” the forest god said. “You do not require specific effort from me to do that.” The frog turned in place, suddenly purposeful, and sprang further up the bank, in the direction of the trees. “We can speak of this further when you wake.”

“Wake?”

“I assume you will want to sleep while the damage repairs.”

I looked up at the rapidly purpling sky. “I… don’t think I’m going to be able to do that.”

“That, I can do.”

I regarded the idea with some suspicion. I was reminded of waking in the forest’s heart with my memories hidden away; sitting here in pieces was horrible, but I didn’t think I wanted to be made to forget it. But…

Sleep would be so nice.

“Please,” I said to the god. “You aren’t going to do anything while I sleep, are you? You won’t act against the settlement?”

“No.”

“...promise?”

“Impudent human. I said that we would speak further.”

I closed my eyes. I’d meant to drag myself further under cover, but my eyes were suddenly incredibly heavy. “Okay, then. Thank you.”

[forabeatofadrum]

Happy Wednesday March 22, Cosmo had an idea! Thank you @aroace-genderfluid-sheep​ and @artsyunderstudy​ for the tags. I have A Lot to say. A Lot. A Lot.

First off, I actually did some fic writing 🥳! It’s been a long while and it felt so good. It’s for my AU Please! fic and man it’s also been ages since I wrote for that fandom. It felt good.

“Zimms-”

He hears Kenny before he feels the hit. His body hits the glass and fans of the opposite team roar. This isn’t new. Jack’s life has consisted of hockey ever since he was a baby. He knows how to take a check, but this one is different. He slides down the glass and he closes his eyes.

He needs to get up.

But instead, everything goes dark.

Now, here comes the long part. It’s about my thesis. I’m gonna put it all under the cut, together with the weather, cause again, it is long.

So, I got my feedback on my theoretical background and it’s... mixed. As in, I did too much, and not gonna lie, I was kind of expecting that. While I was writing it, I was constantly thinking to myself “I am being nuts”. I have over 50 sources for 3000 words. Basically, I am not surprised at all that my main feedback was to cut things, but I am still kind of saddened about it, because I loved writing it and I put a lot of effort in it. But also, on the same vein, I am not surprised. Hence the mixed feelings lol.

Now, a lot of stuff can be saved by rearranging my theoretical background. I, uh, got so lost in writing down the interesting things that I found that I completely forgot this is a theoretical background that is meant to introduce my own research, not a meta-analysis of sorts of the phenomenon. I kinda completely forgot to ask my research questions in my paper. As in, yes, I need to draw conclusions based on the theoretical background, which is what I have done now, but I also need to describe what I am going to do with it. But yeah, even when I rearrange my stuff, a lot will be cut so what am I going to do? I am going to give it to you, to preserve it, because again I am still really happy with it.

It’s a lot. Don’t worry if you do not want to read it.

The representation of queer women is limited and the existing representation is not always positive. Something that could be improved is the way the looks of queer women are shown. Ciasullo (2001) distinguishes three types of appearance: 1. the very feminine lipstick lesbian, 2. the ugly butch and 3. the everyday girl. These three types cause the appearance of queer women to be represented in a non-political way, so they lack depth. Instead, they fill a role in the mainstream. The lipstick lesbian was first received positively, because it removed the previous stereotype of the angry, militant, butch lesbian who secretly wants to be a man deep down (Dhaenens, 2013; Jackson & Gilbertson, 2009), but through lesbian chic it changed them into an object for men to watch. Indeed, queer women are still marketed as fan service for men (Annati & Ramsey, 2022; Diamond, 2005; Jackson & Gilbertson, 2009; Nölke, 2018). The butch is still portrayed as a threat to heterosexuality: she is scary, dominant and not sexy (Ciasullo, 2001). If a butch is portrayed in a more positive way, then being a butch is portrayed as a phase (Nölke, 2018). Finally, there is the everyday girl. This agrees with what Dow (2001) and McCarthy (2001) write about Ellen. The everyday girl conforms to the heterosexual order, which immediately portrays her as non-political, non-sexual and non-threatening (Hantzis & Lehr, 1994).

Ciasullo (2001) also emphasizes in her article that these three types of appearance create additional problems for women of colour. Women of colour are more likely to be seen as less attractive, because they do not easily conform to white beauty standards. That is not the only problem when it comes to racial diversity: there is also skewed representation. Research shows that most queer women are white and that queer women of colour are more affected by racist stereotypes (Annati & Ramsey, 2022). This also creates negative consequences for fans of colour, because fans adopt the racist ideas (Pande & Moitra, 2017). On the other hand, queer women of colour are also presented in a conforming way, namely conforming to white culture (Pande & Moitra, 2017; Yue, 2014). This makes it difficult for fans of colour to express their own culture (Stanfill, 2019), because not all cultures benefit greatly from the Western “I’m Coming Out” narrative (Weber & Weeks, 2022).

As indicated earlier, the term 'queer women' is used instead of 'lesbians'. This is because there are more sexual identities than homosexuality. Yet homosexuality is the most common (Bond, 2015; Sender, 2011). Bisexuals and pansexuals are depicted less because they threaten binary ideas about identity. This is why bisexuality is often portrayed as “one or the other” (Allen, 2022). Bisexual women are still portrayed as prone to cheating (Diamond, 2005). Asexuals are almost completely invisible, or they are not taken seriously by the media (Chen, 2020). Most of the characters are cisgender (Nölke, 2018) and trans women who appear in the media are often victims of (sexual) violence (Abbott, 2022).

There has been improvement in recent years, with TV series such as Pose, which stars trans women of colour (Joyrich, 2022), but several articles indicate that there is still much room for improvement and argue for intersectionality (Annati & Ramsey, 2022 ; DeCeuninck & Dhoest, 2016; Rodriguez, 2019; Yue, 2014).

Damn, this is Kill your darlings.

Look, I am not saying all of this will be completely gone. And this isn’t even the only part that needs to be “cut”. I just need to shorten it a lot. I will find a place somewhere for the core findings of this section, but alas, it is still a shame.

And now, the weather @quizasvivamos​ @blurglesmurfklaine​ @coffeegleek​ @esperantoauthor​ @otherworldsivelivedin​ @caramelcoffeeaddict​ @sillyunicorn​ @bazzybelle​ @dragoneggos​ @raenestee​ @tectonicduck​ @nightimedreamersworld​ @urban-sith​ @thnxforknowingme​ @captain-aralias​ @you-remind-me-of-the-babe​ @takitalks​ @justgleekout​ @cerriddwenluna​ @tea-brigade​ @ivelovedhimthroughworse​ @moodandmist​ @whogaveyoupermission​ @bookish-bogwitch​ @confused-bi-queer​@ionlydrinkhotwater​ @1908jmd​ @special-bc-ur-part-of-it​ @larkral​ @chen-chen-chen-again-chen​​ @cutestkilla​​ @nausikaaa​​/@wellbelesbian​​ @martsonmars​​ @facewithoutheart​​ @shrekgogurt​ @boyinjeans​

[soupedepates]

Emerens belongs to @hel-phoenyx , Maria Suzanna to @noa-de-cajou and Otto as well as Eudoxe to @imanoquest

TW mention of death. Hints of child abuse.

Aristophane has come this morning in Haneda for the cremation, with his girlfriend. I've never met her until now. She is one of Athens' University librarians. I haven't seen him since my last time in Greece, I was like, 14, so more or less a decade ago. Strange to realise he is more than a voice on the telephone. He looks... aged. But not old. He looks like someone in his forties, but someone who aged quite gracefully. Someone who didn't smoke too much. Nor drank too much. Someone with a balanced diet.

And Eirini, his girlfriend, holds his hand and glances at him from time to time, worried. About what? Aristophane seems to hold back his tears. Why do you feel the need to cry, uncle? Why you of all people?

"Your place is so clean, wow, I expected..."

"Well, I like having a tidy space", I interrupt him, "and as Eudoxe often crashes here, I don't want to make him sleep in a dump."

"You seem to have a lot figured out", Aristophane comments while trying to appear gleeful. "And thanks a lot for letting us stay here..."

"No prob, uncle, that's what family is for", I say without really believing in it. "I just have to take my shift at the club at 9 PM, but I'll leave you my keys, sounds good?"

"Do you want to know what the plan for the next few days is?"

"Don't really care but go on."

"We're going to fetch what can be in your father's apartment tomorrow morning", he sighs. "If you want anything, you can come with us. And we're going to incinerate the body in the afternoon. At 2. Eirene and I are supposed to be the only ones at the cremation. I asked Emerens if he wanted to join us, but I am not sure he will come. Do you..."

"Absolutely not. Eudoxe might, though", I suggest while preparing them my fold out sofa. "Oh yeah, if you want to eat out, the caff down the street is real good. I have lunch with a friend so, uh gotta go."

Eventually I arrive late at our rendez-vous. Eudoxe is already sat and has his nose on his book. He never left the academics. Good for him. He is a bright fellow. As for me, I can't put on any intellectual effort without it reminding me of you-know-who.

"Dang it, Aristophane had been buttonholing me, sorry", I sigh before taking place. "He is nice, but I can't stand his 'oh, Andreas, do you want this? Do you need that?'. Fuck it, man, all I need is a good bottle of champaign 'cause the bitch is dead".

My brother closes his book and smiles at me. He hasn't slept. He cried. Few people matter to me, and he is one of the happy few; I read his face as a cue to tone down my attitude. "What happens now?", he asks.

"Cremation tomorrow at 2 PM. Then they bring back the urn in Greece, and there will be a mass after the burial, I suppose."

"I always forget dad is technically a Byzantine Catholic. It's weird."

"Yeah."

"I... think I'll go. What about you?"

He is the only reason I would go. "Not sure yet. I won't be here tomorrow, that's for sure, but it's been quite some time since I've been to Greece so... I don't know."

"How are you coping with all of this?"

"Happily."

He gently takes my hand.

"Andreas, don't lie to your brother. I see you're doing poorly and I can't help but worry."

"He's dead, and I shouldn't care," I spit. "End of conversation."

"Andy..."

"What."

He sighs in return. "Did you call Maria Suzanna at least?"

"I doubt she would gladly hear about that."

I can't resist the appeal of a cigarette. I have been smoking on and off since at least my fourteenth birthday, and I don't know why it always felt comforting. I need to call Otto. I reach for my phone as I sit on the pavement. There's hardly anyone in this street, I can have a smoke and a talk on the phone without anyone bugging me. Which is, in Japan, quite impressive.

It rings.

Once.

Twice.

"Hm, allo?"

"Otto, do you hear me?"

"Oh Andy, what's the matter? You sound upset?"

His voice is so cheerful. He cares, and it shows. Otto sighs, for I don't answer. I hear a car drive right past him, he must be on a walk. He... takes care of himself, at last. That's a good thing.

"He's dead", I say bluntly.

"Who?"

"Him. You know who." I draw on my cigarette. "Organe failure. They're burning the body tomorrow and burying the ashes in Greece like, on Sunday. Do what you want of it."

He stays silent for a bit before answering: "How are you?"

"Fine. I'm glad, even."

"You're not," he retorts with a hint of compassion. "You don't speak like someone who's glad. You sound rather... woeful. Saturnine, even."

I grin at his vocabulary. Otto has always been stupidly literate.

"Oh, woe is me, my mother does not want to know me and my father died!" I exclaim. "I don't feel that bad, Otto, I swear". I crush my fag on the road. "I am handling it well. Maturely. You should see it."

"I am sure you're doing better than I think, but still. I worry about you."

So why did you abandon me when I was a child?

"I know. I promise it's all good. I just need to talk a bit."

I can't show up at the club wasted. A host completely drunk at the beginning of his shift is perfectly unprofessional. As such, to cool down, I called Maria Suzanna. I should ask her out one day. Can't work up the courage to tell her.

"Heyyy", she smiles. "Woah you look like you got run over by a truck."

"Fuck you, Maria."

"Awww, I should prolly get going then", she giggles as she starts to leave.

"No, please, stay!" I beg while snatching her by the wrist. "I need you. Don't leave me now. Please."

"Are you sad, babygirl?"

"My father's dead."

A minute.

"My mum told me", she admits. "I know you need me now. I'm staying."

I wake up with a migraine. Aristophane is already awake and prepares breakfast for all of us. Eirini reads on the couch.

"Sleep well?" I ask while stretching.

"Wonderfully", my uncle's girlfriend answers without looking at me. "We're leaving in an hour or so, would you care to join us?"

"Emerens will pick us up", Aristophane explains.

"Why him? Why not take a taxi?"

"He kindly said he wanted to help. You know he was, kind of, the only friend of your father."

Fucking blonde.

But here I am, next to the fucking blonde in his very own car. I don't know what motivated me.

"You'll see, the place has never been cleaner", he tries to joke.

"No empty bottle? No cigarette butt? No trash on the floor?"

"They threw and burned what wasn't salvageable. I think there are just the books, some albums and clothes."

"The plan is to give the clothes and the books to a charity", Aristophane completes from the backseat. "If you want to take some with you, it's the moment."

"He kept the photos, you know", Emerens mutters to me.

"What photos?"

"Birthdays, Disneyland, graduation... he kept the photos."

"Don't try to make me all sentimental over that dead bastard."

"I would never", he nods before taking a sarcastic voice. "I just thought you would like to know before you go back into pitbull mode."

[harlskeener]

@electronicprince asked:

They really rushed the Osborns. Imo TASM should have built Harry up over multiple movies, into a villain that we can still feel for. They actually got so far with making him sympathetic in tasm2 it's even more of a shame he suddenly becomes a monster at the end. Gwen could have died in different ways. Tbh had Norman passed away at a later point, he could even still be responsible for it without being the Goblin, considering his power. Corrupt rich CEO is already a pretty reputable villain type.

i know sony punished tasm for not succeeding, and i think it’s really frustrating considering it’s their fault? they should have built the series better.

and because no one but myself asked -- here is essentially my ideal tasm timeline, 4 tasm movies, a black cat spinoff, and the rest of the sony marvel cinematic compromise that i am, in fact, posting in the tags because i put in hours of thought into this, and i think i deserve good things like attention:

tasm 1: introduce norman. keep the lizard as the main villain but introduce norman sooner. even just hint at his existence. mention that the ceo is still struggling with his sickness; mention the oscorp heir in europe; you can do this through news reports.

tasm 2: after the lizard happened, oscorp is under scrutinisation. it comes to light that oscorp had okay'd these kinds of testing, so oscorp had to get rid of it. norman was brought under light for negligence of what was happening to his company and argued it was because of his sickness that he wasn't in the right frame of mind to put a cap on the events of tasm 1. and from left stage: harry osborn! harry is “temporarily” taking over while norman “recovers”. however, turns out, as norman tells harry, that he's dying, and that harry will one day have to take over. harry, in shock, is displeased because he wanted to escape oscorp.

keep max as the villain, becoming electro. i have no real problems with the way that he becomes electro, i think it was an interesting adaptation from the comics. on the side, norman has been trying to figure out a cure for his curse, stumbling upon spiderman through watching the news. while harry is on a goose chase trying to take over oscorp while hanging out with peter. however, harry's symptoms start showing and progressively worsening over the course of the film. harry gets tested and finds out he also has the “osborn curse”. terrified, he tells his dad, only to find out that his dad has known all this time and was deliberately keeping it from him. when harry tries to get angry, norman manipulates him saying that he was trying to find a cure for them, and he might just have it. norman tells harry that if spiderman gives his blood, they'll be able to engineer a cure.

we, then, of course, have the sequence where harry tells peter about him dying too. and, as the story goes, have spiderman refuse to give harry his blood. outraged, harry tries to figure out another cure even as his dad grows angered by the audacity of spiderman, knowing that spiderman became spiderman through oscorp. harry searches through all of oscorp's files before coming upon max at ravencroft institute being tortured -- i mean, studied, my bad -- and is understandably livid. menken storms in like he did in canon, removing him as ceo and saying that if he tries to do anything -- they will release all the framed information that it was harry's fault for what happened to max.

felicia tells harry that they never got rid of everything -- that they can still find a way to cure the illness. however, he'll need a way in, and so harry frees max from ravencroft. he gets the armor and the spider venom as courtesy of helping max break him back into oscorp. felicia reveals that all of this was the result of menken when the board storm in, reinstating harry as the ceo because this is MY cinematic universe.

harry gives the suit and the venom to his dad, norman adamantly telling him to give him the venom. harry gives it to him, and norman nearly dies; harry puts him into the suit, and norman starts healing. instead of the goblin being shoved in at the end, it's this red herring moment where norman glares ominously at spiderman on a news report, breaking the monitor when it shows footage of him swinging around.

electro causes another blackout, and peter and gwen both stop electro the very same way. gwen doesn't die just for timing purposes, so instead: gwen goes off to europe and tells peter that she won't let him just abandon his life here for her because that's stupid. his aunt may is here, and spiderman is here, and she's not going to let him throw everything away just to be with her, no matter how much she loves him. new york needs spiderman.

five months later, harry is on television doing a speech at oscorp talking about the tragedy of max dillon, saying that oscorp swears it will do better to let all of its employees' voices be heard to avoid something like this from ever happening again. norman turns the tv off and looks at gustav fiers and talks about the team they plan to build to get rid of spiderman. fiers starts with sytsevich (aka rhino). peter, on the phone with gwen, sees rhino and stops him, gwen's speech echoing in the ending and what not.

tasm 3: we START with a faroff shot of the clocktower and peter's voice layered sobbing. we do a time skip backwards to show how we got to this point. peter's going to school, and everything's all good. he's in college, and he's walking when he bumps into one (1) mj watson. he swings by oscorp to see harry hard at work. they go hang out again, and when peter brings up spiderman, harry's face hardens in irritation. peter tries to calm harry down about the whole blood thing, and harry gets mad as they argue that peter doesn't know what it's like to know you're /dying/. harry saying the only reason his dad even managed to live was because of the suit -- not the venom. peter argues that the blood could have done the same thing as harry retaliates saying that they could have found a way to reengineer a cure. they do a whole, “look. i really don't want to fight.” thing as harry just sighs and says he has to go.

harry's still looking for a cure and trying to manage oscorp while norman's creating his sinister six. publicly, norman is slowly recovering, but has entrusted oscorp to harry for publicity points -- and yes: ratings have gone up! spiderman, during a fight with some baddies, knocks a crewman on the u.s.s. bulldog, morris bench, into the water by accident. spiderman tried to help him, but morris attacks him. spiderman ties him up for the police to find him, but instead of the police finding him, we see footsteps as morris looks down to see gustav fiers.

with hydro-man (morris bench) being added to the rockband, we have the sinister five so far -- rhino (imprisoned... again), the lizard (imprisoned), green goblin (unappeared, as norman waits for his moment), hydro-man, and gustav fiers himself as the gentleman. gustav fiers comes up with this really elaborate plan to lure spiderman that works. spiderman gets beat up by them all (gustav having let the lizard and rhino out) and only narrowly escapes. he tries to bandage himself, but does a really shoddy job of it. we are again, reminded of gwen as he stares longingly at a picture of them together.

a new day of being normal as peter parker as gwen calls peter since it's time for winter break, and she says she's coming home to see her family and him. it's becoming harder for peter to celebrate peter parker and spiderman. he's been struggling with school versus heroism, maybe he even almost missed a final! either way, the school year finishes, and gwen arrives in new york. he's out swinging to stop crime while we see gwen waiting patiently to see him. when he finally joins gwen, she teases him that it's been an hour. they go hang out and eat somewhere. they run into mj, who greets peter, and mj and gwen get to meet each other and do not have an instant jealousy thing going (even if that's absolutely something sony would have done). peter tells gwen about the sinister ... five, not knowing what to do. she gives him advice and also tells him to talk to harry after he mentions that he and harry still haven't been back to normal since the whole spiderman rejecting harry thing. she tells him that maybe there IS a way to cure harry if they isolate the genotype in the spider venom that helps with rapid healing.

they go to study it, and it takes weeks. we get a montage of it that is put to music, combined with fighting sequences of spiderman, as well as harry slowly getting sicker -- hell, maybe even coughing up blood if you want to get the drama going. we get some of aunt may telling peter to slow it down because he's pushing himself too much. some of harry and felicia bonding and mirroring because harry's staying late at the office.

on the night before gwen is supposed to leave, they finally figure out a cure. they race to oscorp to try to see harry; felicia lets them in, and harry looks up to see them run in. he seems confused but also wary before taking the cure. right when he hugs both of them, the glass breaks, and they all fall over. peter tells gwen to get harry and felicia out of there, and so they drag harry and felicia to the labs to stay safe before peter's running off. the scene cuts to him swinging outside. right as he's about to swing onto a lamp post, the lamp post explodes -- and we get the reveal that electro is still alive.

gwen says she's going to find peter as harry and felicia protest, but harry's in too much pain from his illness because he'd have spent the entire movie in every scene he is drinking. gwen's running out of oscorp when she gets kidnapped by the green goblin who has now since deduced spiderman is peter after literally the whole movie has been coincidences upon coincidences, and it's not like spiderman is actually that much of a secret identity for peter.

he takes her to the clocktower and has a city-wide signal that spiderman is to meet him at the clocktower if he wants gwen alive. we get a fighting sequence of spiderman fighting all the sinister six baddies up until he finally arrives. by this time, his mask is already pretty ripped up with parts of his face showing. green goblin taunts spiderman saying to take off his mask and die as the coward he is. he goes into this speech about how the osborns cared about the parkers like family, and that after his parents died -- peter WAS family to him and all that, and yet he and his father betrayed him!!!! the spider venom was supposed to be a cure!! while peter fights back and calls him out on his bullshit that all norman cared about was power and weaponising the cure and all that !!!

and we get a moment of it being like, you think you know pain !!! i'll show you pain! and is like you can either stop me or save her, and norman throws her off the clocktower, and we get that really cinematic moment where peter goes to save her and all that, but he can't, and she's dead in his arms like the opening. it's a fade to black to her funeral as peter vows he's going to avenge her. it then cuts to the gustav and norman in their secret evil lair, where gustav is like. hm. what next? and it focuses on norman who is just like, it's time for phase 2. and bam. ending.

we then would get a black cat spinoff / origin story!! this origin story would brake away from the comics to fit the storyline (as all comics to movies do). felicia's dad would still be a burglar who would eventually get arrested. the movie would start out with her visiting him and all that. she doesn't have the best relationship with her father and wanted to step out of being the daughter of infamous cat burglar, walter hardy. that's why she started working at oscorp. we get a sequence of her working and being a badass to all the board who work under her because harry meant it when he said that; and since this movie says harry and felicia friendship RIGHTS, they have a friendly banter before he's telling her to go home, that she's always avoiding going home even when she should rest.

she teases him about the same before unwillingly leaving. her boyfriend ryan isn't the kindest when she gets home, implying that he never is, and when she's not in the mood -- he hits her and assaults her. cut to her in the bathroom crying before she's breaking the mirror. in the reflection, she stares blankly at herself. she calls out of work and spends the whole day cleaning the mess that is their apartment before she spots a picture of her and her dad that got shattered in the struggle with ryan. remembering how her father told her to never be a victim, to always reach for greatness, she decides she's Done With This Shit.

she starts training herself in acrobatics and various fighting styles in a training montage mixed in with scenes of her being the Best at work as always. harry comments saying she seems different, and when she asks a bad different?, he just shrugs and says a good different. when she finally does a really elaborate move, she smirks as the camera focuses on her before it cuts to a rainy alley.

she has been studying his patterns, and she knows he goes to the same bar every friday. and because it's sony, and we get to do this sort of thing: she DOES get to kill her abuser!!!!! right as he gets into his car, she's sitting in the backseat and strangles him to death before burning the car. it's in the Bad Place of Town, so no one really gave a shit about him anyways, and for the sake of plot, it ends up on the news, but the police are incompetent and blame it on a gang dispute.

when we cut back to felicia, she's doing her day-to-day at the office, but it's as if her energy has been killed. her vibes are gone! after finally getting her revenge, she thought it would be fulfilling enough, but it isn't -- years of abuse will do that, of course, but also: she just feels so empty, y'know? so. she dons the suit again, and she decides, huh. let's go crazy, go stupid. at first, she's just killing abusers before she starts doing some theft herself.

my thoughts on this movie left, but i'd imagine she starts a robin hood scenario where she steals from the rich and gives to the poor. the entirety of the movie has references to spiderman and the other villains as well, etc, but yeah. in her life as felicia, she convinces harry to start a philanthropic organisation to support domestic violence survivors. the rights!

and, because i lost all braincells, tasm 4 would be the last sequel of the spiderman series, and it'd be dedicated to stopping norman and the sinister six. peter and mj get closer as peter grieves gwen, but mj and peter don't get together in the end. harry and peter try to rekindle their friendship, but peter is so angry at norman as norman takes over as ceo having been “fully healed”, a miracle! harry tries to a nice voice of reason now that gwen is gone, seeing as he inherited the braincell after being cured. in the end, peter stops norman after arresting the sinister six throughout the entirety of the movie, but norman kills himself to avoid going to jail. harry grieves his father and right as he goes to oscorp, guess who's there? gustav fiers! he gives a doctored video of the night norman was killed which frames spiderman as his killer. harry, in shock and anger, is all like: why are you showing me this? and gustav tells harry that his father wanted him to have something before he died. he passes the suit helm to harry, and the shot ends with harry staring at the helm as gustav walks off. whether this be mid-movie, or the ending, we get harry becoming the goblin.

if it’s mid-movie, the rest of the movie is dedicated to stopping harry.

and then we get the rest of the spin offs !!!

like this layout isn’t even that perfect, but i genuinely feel like. basically my whole thing is that if they had shown harry’s empathy before deciding to make him the goblin and chosen to not rob him of said empathy, we’d be better off.

[awheckery]

so. uh.

cut for frank discussion of chronic illness and the serious failures of the american healthcare system. tw for fatphobia and gaslighting.

Last July, I got sick. It wasn’t too bad at first: some fatigue, body aches and a slightly elevated temp, until suddenly it was bad and I wound up in the ER. It took three rounds of steroids, a round of antibiotics and a more powerful inhaler to get my feet back under me, but I never fully recovered.

I didn’t talk about it here, except for answering an ask in October and blaming my lack of creative output on depression. It really, really wasn’t depression; it was my health progressively collapsing, one system after another until the avalanche of symptoms that flattened me just after New Year’s.

For the last four months, I’ve spiked a fever over 100°F nearly every single day. My joints hurt. My knuckles are knobbly and swollen, and occasionally my fingers are so painful and weak I’ve had to literally tape my pen to my hand at work. I get rashes at random that itch so badly I claw myself bloody. I overheat and have hot flashes in temperate rooms. The skin on my face and neck and shoulders turns red and hot to the touch, like I’m burning for hours with no immediately discernible provocation.

Some days, I wake up and I don’t have the strength to get out of bed. Some days I can’t wake up at all. I’ve slept through deafening alarms for hours, long enough for my phone battery to run out and die. I can only stand up for ten minutes a day without being hobbled by the effort, and every extra minute beyond that I pay for in hours spent bedbound by exhaustion and pain.

I keep losing words. I’ll arrive at the middle of a sentence and stumble to a halt, because the word I need isn’t there. It’s not true aphasia, and it’s not all the time. I comprehend written and verbal communication perfectly well, but I can’t get my own thoughts out without tripping over them.

I am, to quote a friend attending school to be a nurse practitioner, “a textbook case for SLE,” and I agree, but somehow I can’t pay a doctor to treat me seriously.

In January, I was referred to a rheumatologist after the bloodwork my PCP ordered indicated I had autoimmune activity of some kind.

To date, that’s my only test for anything that’s come out definitively positive for any kind of disease state at all. Ever. I tested negative for celiac disease on a technicality nine years ago, despite how specifically and intensely sick gluten makes me, so I was dismayed but not too surprised when follow-up bloodwork for lupus came back just barely inside the range of “normal.” Despite that, I wasn’t prepared to be jerked around as much as I have been.

The first rheumatologist I saw, back at the end of January, had barely been in the exam room for thirty seconds when I could see he’d already made up his mind about me. He was dismissive and perfunctory and condescending when he told me that “plenty of perfectly healthy people have positive ANA results,” and he referred me back to my PCP for an exercise program and antidepressants to treat my “fibromyalgia.”

Putting aside that I’m not a “perfectly healthy person,” I’m a Fat Lady living in America, and I’ve experienced medical fatphobia for decades at this point. You learn the key words and phrases pretty quickly, and “exercise program” has never not been a euphemism for “weight loss.” (Which is heavily ironic in this particular situation, because before I was Fat, I walked 2-3 miles a day for funsies and spent 15-20 hours in the gym every week. I only stopped because I somehow shredded both my ACLs in one summer. I’d love to get back to that if a rheumatologist could help me figure out how to be active and uninjured at the same time.)

I was frustrated after that first appointment, enough to request a referral to one of the best teaching hospitals in the country. Why not go to the best, right? There was a five month wait for an appointment, but I am stubborn, and I made use of the time by documenting every bullshit symptom my body threw at me. I have a daily symptom journal, full of subjective entries like my pain and fatigue levels, as well as objective entries like daily temperature changes and photos of my rashes and my burning face and my goddamn mouth ulcers.

I thought I had enough logged to be impossible to ignore, and then I saw the second rheumatologist three weeks ago, and the first sentence out of her mouth was the beginning of an interrogation on my blood pressure, and whether I was taking medication or if I was on a fucking exercise program for it. I tried to get the appointment back on track by sharing my symptom diary, and she turned back to my just-under-the-wire test results, and told me, “many healthy people have positive ANA results, it doesn’t mean anything without other positive test results for specific conditions.”

I said, “Healthy people don’t run a fever for months.”

And then she told me that a "fever is not associated with any of the conditions a rheumatologist treats." I was so startled by the confidence and authority with which she stated the lie that I was unable to speak to rouse a defense or contribute anything else for the rest of the appointment. After an insultingly brief examination, in which I never took my face mask off and she declined to look at any of my photos, she said that she “didn’t see anything that could be rheumatologically wrong with me.”

I asked her what she thought could be wrong with me, and she grudgingly admitted it’s possible, though rare to have an autoimmune disease and test negative for everything, so she would order more tests and refer me to appropriate specialists for my various symptoms. She ordered a referral to an infectious disease specialist for my fevers, and a referral to a dermatologist for my “rosacea” (that she’s assuming I have, because I would like to again note she did not see it, at no point did she actually look at my face or a photo of it), and a referral to an ENT for a salivary gland biopsy for my dry mouth, and a referral to a neurologist for my “stroke-like” memory and speech problems.

It was, all told, an unbearably shitty appointment. I cried in my car for an hour in the hospital parking garage so I wouldn’t do anything impulsive like lying down in traffic, and then I went home, cried some more, and went to bed for three days.

On the fourth day, I woke up enraged. It’s one thing to be blown off by a doctor when you’re just reporting symptoms without proof, it’s a wholly different thing for a doctor to ignore your proof and lie about diagnostic criteria to your face.

It’s hard enough not to think you’re crazy when your test results come back negative over and over; it’s that much harder after being told that your major concrete measurable symptom is diagnostically irrelevant, when it really, really isn’t.

(for the record, just going off the symptoms I can concretely prove I’ve experienced in the last week alone, I land a 16 on this chart, which is the most up-to-date, widely agreed-upon diagnostic criteria)

I have decided, for the moment, to play ball. I don’t have the energy to jump through all the hoops this rheumatologist wants, but I'm angry enough to drag myself through them. Tomorrow I’m supposed to see the infectious diseases specialist. On Wednesday I see the dermatologist. In two weeks I see the ENT, and I’ve got a neurology appointment tentatively scheduled for December.

I’m going to be blisteringly forthright with all of these doctors about why I’m there, and that I’m looking to exclude diagnoses other than the lupus I pretty obviously have. (Except with the ENT. Apparently they treat allergies, and I’d like to be able to go outside long enough to walk a dog, someday.)

I’m supposed to see this rheumatologist again at the end of November. Depending on how this week’s appointments go, I’m aiming to either move up my appointment with her when one becomes available, or just send a firm yet diplomatic email asking why the diagnostic criteria apply to everyone but me.

If anybody else has gotten through this fucking nightmare successfully, I’m open to suggestions, it’s not like it can get worse at this point.

[mehphoobia]

TRIPLE TROUBLE

Pairing- Tom Holland(x3) x Reader

Warnings- Language, extreme smut (I think most of it is just smut 😅), extreme cuteness.

Summary- Who knew moving into a new apartment would be so much fun if you have triplets as your neighbors. How much trouble can Peter, Tom and Arvin cause? only a lot...

MASTERLIST | REQUESTS OPEN |

PART 2

______________________________🤍_____________________________

There you were standing below a building in front of the entrance with the truck that carried your stuff on your left and surrounded by utter commotion. Why were you here again? Oh yes, you had to move out of your apartment because your godforsaken landlord, well ex-godforsaken landlord had to hike up the rent. You couldn't pay that much of an amount just for your rent to live in that matchbox of a place. Of course it had a nice view, office was closer but the world had to adjust and so did you.

"Miss we are done unloading!" grunted the man. You flinched because of his tone but then you realize you had to pay the man. After fetching a couple of bucks and paying the man, you started your journey to the fifth floor because the lift decided to sleep that day, the very day you had to move and who were your travel buddies? fourteen cartons. Why did you have so much luggage in the first place? you could literally contemplate your life's decision in the time you would have to waste carrying each one them, one by one to your apartment. "Fuck man!" you cursed as you kicked an imaginary rock to let out a bit of your frustration.

Where was your boyfriend when you needed him? oh how could you forget! He cheated on you. There you have it, your life. You stopped thinking as you picked one of your box, just then you heard a voice, "Do you need help?" that angel asked you and you would have cried. you looked at him and you were mesmerized with his curls and a jawline that could cut paper.

"Is it that evident?" you asked and he chuckled. "Are you new here?" he asked picking up one of the boxes. "Yes, my name is Y/N I moving in to 503" you informed as you picked one yourself. He looked at you wide eyed with ripples on his forehead. "Oh so you are the new neighbor. Hello there my name is Peter. W- I live in 502" he smiled as you both entered the building. The work got done easily with someone helping you out. The view from here was not that great, all you could see was your neighbor's balcony. Peter joked that this way you could meet each other every day.

Oh wasn't that guy an absolute sweetheart. If he had a little bit of attitude he would totally be your type. He left after wishing you a good night and flashing that beautiful smile of his, damn you could melt. After moving so many boxes and climbing up and down the stairs, tiredness captured you. You changed into your pajamas and finished the pizza that you had earlier ordered and slept on the couch. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, after all those boxes had to be unboxed.

You woke up to someone's washing machine's sound. You were pretty sure that washing machine was trying to run away because of low maintenance. You tried not to stumble over you unpacked luggage as you walked down your hallway tying your hair up in a bun.

Your scrunchie that was tugged onto teeth as you were getting your disheveled hair together fell to the ground. There was a girl sitting on top of the washing machine, naked and the guy was busy eating her out. You sprinted into your room as you saw the scene unfold in front of your eyes. You could feel your panties dampening because of her moans that were getting louder by the second. Luckily they took their show inside and you could finally breathe. Well, you didn't expect the view to be like that. Your neighbor with someone. Wait a minute, your neighbor, Peter?

"Wow" was all you could say before brushing your teeth and taking a bath. You never felt so ridiculously single before as you felt now. "fuck my life" was the mantra you kept chanting as you put on your shirt. "Idiot" you grunted as you realized that all your pants were packed and there was nothing you could put on below your shirt. Maybe except for the pencil skirt that somehow managed to escape and you had put it in your handbag as you found it at the last moment.

"Ah yes" you said grabbing the file which you were supposed to hand in today. You locked your door, double checked it and pressed the lift button.

As you were waiting for the lift, you heard Peter's door click open and the girl you saw today morning, yes the one sitting naked on the washing machine, made her way out. Her stumbling feet and incapability to even walk straight summarized her night. "Didn't she have a good time?" you thought to yourself and chuckled as she dared to take the stairs. Who takes the stairs when you have a perfectly fine lift?

"Good morning?" a very heavy voice said behind you. You turned behind to take a better look at him. "Good morning uh..Peter" you said obviously uncomfortable because he still smelt like sex.

"Oh yes me, Peter" he said laughing hysterically. You gulped as you stepped away from him. Sure you wanted him to have attitude but this is not what you expected. His cute little eyes were all hooded and spoke a different language today. As if you met someone else yesterday.

"Are you going up or down?" you asked in effort to change the topic as he walked closer towards you. "Going down kitten" he panted and smirked sheepishly. You could feel his breath as his hands checked you out. He smiled and started to walk away. He looked at you one last time before he locked his door. "Oh God" was all you could say as you clutched your shirt together. You would lie if you didn't feel aroused. Of course he was weird, hell, he was kind of a boy all mothers tell their daughters to be aware off. But this guy had a lot of surprises and were you gonna figure all of them out? Fuck yeah.

After handing over your file to your senior, you took the rest of the day off. On your way back to your apartment, you spotted a café. It was rustic and elegant and beautiful paintings hung on the wall. You stepped up to the cashier to place your order.

"Hi how may I help you?" gleamed the guy. Your smile disappeared when you looked at him. "Peter?" you questioned in confusion. "Peter?" he questioned back. "Uh we met today morning. Don't you remember? You helped me with the boxes too?" you explained. "Are you Y/N?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes" you replied in confusion. "Hi my name is T- Peter." he introduced himself. "yeah I know" you smiled embarrassingly. He noticed your expression and took a deep breath. "Miss Y/N why don't you have a seat? I think we need to talk." he spoke as if in an attempt to not mess things up.

You decided to sit down and talk to him. And you did. You realized he owned this café and a couple more around the city. His gentlemanly behavior was like a spell that enticed you. You could listen to him for hours. His honey glistened tone played their tricks on you.

"Why don't you come over for drinks tomorrow? We can spend a bit more time together" he suggested in a calm tone as he walked you towards your apartment. "Sure. Does 7 sound good?" you asked as you looked for your keys. "Perfect actually, we all will be home by then." "Great, I will see you tomorrow then" you said as you locked the door. What a strange guy? If someone would come and tell you that you saw three different versions of the same guy, you wouldn't be surprised.

You stood in pale pink dress that rested your hips and covered you till your mid thigs, that you hunted from your closet. You had spent the entire day unboxing and setting up your apartment. It was almost 7 and you were a bit tired but you would throw your away for the little get together you had with Peter.

Now standing outside their door clutching to the scented candle, you rang their bell. He opened the door and gestured you to come in. "In here" he said pointing towards a room that was co-joined with the balcony. As you were walking towards that room, you saw a photo frame. Your heart dropped. "Fucking triplets?" you murmured. "Hey kitten" "Hi Y/N" two voices spoke. You flinched at the sudden sound and they stood right behind you.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" you blurted out your question. You were no longer worried if you sounded rude. "All this time I thought I--you were lying to me?" you asked. "Y/N please listen" Peter spoke, the cute little one you had met for the first time.

You sat down, when they all started explaining themselves. First the other two introduced themselves. The guy near the lift was Arvin and the guy you had met at the café was Tom. Peter told you that he was the one who had started all this confusion because he fell for you at the first sight. He knew Erwin and Tom would like you too and how right he was.

"Peter couldn't control his excitement when he told us about you." Tom said caressing Peter's hair. All the anger somehow melted and turned into a genuine smile. Peter blushed when he saw you smiling, the same smile he fell in love with, they all did.

"Look I had a break up recently. He cheated on me and I might have a tough time adjusting to have another person in my life so soon and three of you together would be overwhelming so can we take it slow? like get to know each other first." you suggested to which Arvin sat down next to you.

"Take all the time you need kitten, we will be right here" he said as he stroked your hair. Soon he was joined by Tom, "1 month, spend one month with us and if its too much for you we will respect your decision." he said as he squatted down to your level. "Okay" you said after thinking about it for five minutes. Peter, baby walked to you and rested his head on shoulder as he sat next to you. Giggles filled the room as Tom cracked his bad jokes. Oh dear the three of them were walking trouble, triple trouble.

Now that you knew about their little secret, they took turns in spending time with you. Everyday Tom would drop you to your office and Arvin would pick you up. Peter would spend the weekends with you. Sometimes all the four of you went on a drive together. Peter would hold on to you as he clutched you from behind when you sat on the passenger seat.

1 month passed away like a jiffy taking away all the confusion and panic you had about being in a polyamories relationship and were you whipped for them. Of course you were.

It was a Sunday, exactly 1 month later, here you were sitting on the couch with all three of them. "So what do you think?" Tom asked you as he pulled you closer. "Do like us now?" Peter asked you with his puppy eyes. "I have always liked you but" you smiled as you continued, "I love you, all the three of you." you smiled with how fast Peter started crying after you finished. Arvin came close to you as he caressed your cheek.

Tom pulled you in for a kiss. His tender lips felt so soft on yours. You moaned into the kiss and he could easily slip his tongue in your mouth. Arvin dragged his lips on your neck, marking you as his, their's. Never breaking the kiss Tom dragged the zip of your dress exposing your black lace. "So pretty" Arvin moaned as he took notice of your exposed self.

You broke the kiss as your eyes landed on Peter. Tom and Arvin sensed you pulling away and looked at each other. "Peter is it too much for you? if you don't want-" "No" Peter's sudden confession stopped you midway.

"I want this, I do want you but I have never done it before." Peter confessed embarrassingly. You smiled as you pulled him close to you. "It's okay I will take care of you, don't you worry." As you pulled his pant's zip down exposing the dent that he was trying hide, Tom chuckled. Peter whimpered when you fetched his member out the confines and licked off the leaking precum. Tom slid your bra away and Arvin had his hands exploring your womanhood.

You licked a wide strip, leaving Peter withering above you. He clutched your hair when you suddenly made eye contact with him and pushed you down on his cock. His cock was girthy and long with made arousal drip from your pussy. Arvin was quick to spread your arousal, lubricating you. Tom had one of your nipple in his mouth as he lay below you.

Peter's girthy cock sat at the back of your throat leaving him in all moans. Suddenly Arvin pushed one of his digits in your leaking pussy. The sudden intrusion choked a moan out of you. The vibration of your moan had Peter's head falling back in pleasure. "You like that, kitten? You like my fingers in you?" you swallowed at Arvin's filthy words. "Do you want him to fuck you with his fingers, fuck you till you are shaking?" Tom said while rubbing your nipples together at the same time. Arvin rubbed your clit with his thumb as you bobbed you head up and down on Peter's cock.

"Such a good pussy, Tom" Arvin panted. "Vin' e-every time you talk like that, she s-swallows and it feels so fucking good." Peter said in between his moans. "Yeah? you like it when we talk dirty?" a sudden slap sent vibration throughout your pussy and you swallowed your moan. That was it for Peter, he came in your mouth and you could feel hot cum filling your throat.

You popped off of Peter's cock as Arvin pulled you backwards and kissed you. It was messy and rough and you loved it. "Do you want Tom to fuck you?" Arvin asked. On his cue Tom pulled out his cock and slid a condom on it and lined up at your entrance. "P-Please" you managed to say while Arvin continued to rub your clit. "Please what kitten?" he pushed you towards your edge. "Please fuck me" you moaned. "Fuck her Tom and don't cum till I say" Arvin commanded.

Peter took one your nipples in his mouth as he Arvin pushed through your velvety folds slowly allowing you to adjust. Arvin wasn't as girthy as Peter but he was longer than him. Tom bottomed out with a grunt, "so tight and wet. N-Not gonna last".

"P-Please m-move" you mumbled and it was enough for Tom to fetch out his cock completely and slam it in again. Soon he set a pace which had you writhing under him.

With Tom fucking you at a past that has you drifting to heaven and Arvin rubbing you clit vigorously with Peter sucking your nipples together was enough to send you over the edge. "Can I cum, Pplease?" you panted. "Not yet kitten" with that soon Arvin replaced his thumb with his tongue. "Come on kitten cream all over his cock. need you taste you." he said and it was enough for you to let go.

You had never cum this hard in your life. You could feel Tom's softening cock slip out of your pussy and Arvin was kind enough to clean all the mess with his tongue. The overstimulation was too much for you so you came second time that night.

All the three of you were staring at the ceiling, panting when you spoke, "Oh I am definitely into trouble".

"Triple Trouble" all of them spoke together.

______________________________🤍_____________________________

A/N- Hey guys, so this is just another fic in my draft. Tumblr is making me write all my fantasies and do I like it? I freaking love it.

I am thinking about posting a Sebastian Stan fic so if you have any requests please send them to me. I have been waiting to write a fic on him.

Oh ok on heavy request, HEAVY request there will be a part 2 of this fic..damn guys I received so many asks for this one 😂

for part 2 I didn't really plan anything it was just going to be a simple fic but look how that turned out to be?

if you have any specific plot for part 2 send me in your request i will definitely go through it..

Love yourself..you are worth it ❣❣

[write-orflight]

Settle Down: Chapter 4

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers)  

Rating: M

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: Smut!! (Oral, male receiving. Sexual conduct. language.)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary:   Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one   thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a   family, right?

AN: Unedited because I was scrambling to finish before work. Comment on this chapter or inbox to be on taglist. thanks! much love, Cia.

                Chapter 4: Frozen, fuck you.

Misfortune came in the form of spots in your underwear the following week. You weren’t pregnant despite your best efforts. You took a personal day because of how bummed you were feeling, assuring Hotch that you could do your job from home. So you spent your morning eating terribly and reviewing the files Garcia sent you. Once you finish all your work for the day, you curl up on the couch with a pint of ice cream, bourbon and National Geographic. You’re hours in when you get a knock at your door. You stumble over and open it to reveal Spencer. He looks at you concerned as you very drunkenly head back to your couch, leaving the door open indicating you were inviting him in. He closes the door behind him looking at you concerned. 

“Have you been drinking?” 

“Wow, is this why they say you’re good at your job?” You say, rolling your eyes. 

“Y/N, should you even be drinking? You might be—“ 

“Did you know elephants are pregnant for almost 2 years?” You say pointing at the TV. “Why am I even asking? You know everything.” 

“Do you wanna tell me what’s got you so upset?” Spencer says, kneeling in front of your perch on the couch. 

“Did you know it’s very difficult for female pandas to become pregnant?” You say, you feel your eyes becoming wet but you blink back the tears. “That makes two of us.” You shrug. 

It clicks for Spencer in that moment. “You’re not…” he asks. You shake your head. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. Maybe you should ask someone else. Maybe someone without a broken uterus.” 

“Y/N, there’s nothing wrong with you.” He says, cupping your cheek with his hand. You can’t help but nuzzle back into it. “I went to the doctor with you. Just because it didn’t happen this time doesn’t mean it won’t happen. Not everyone gets pregnant their first time trying.” 

“But people not trying at all end up pregnant the first time. What’s wrong with me?” The tear that’s been threatening the whole time finally falls down your cheek. Spencer swipes his thumb across it, looking sympathetically at you. 

“We can just try again next month, Y/N. We’ve got time, ok?” He says, you nod. 

“Thank you, Spencer.” You say. 

“No problem. Now come on, lay down.” He says, sitting down on the end of the couch and pulling you down to lay down onto his lap. “And stop watching National Geographic if it’s making you sad. We can even watch that movie with the talking toys if you want?” 

“All three?” 

“God, there’s three?!” 

———————————————

The following weeks are pretty uneventful. You guys caught murders and went to bars afterwards. You were in one bar after a particularly hard case with the team sans Spencer and Hotch when Derek asked you. 

“Ok, apparently you swore my girl to secrecy but I have to know.” He says to you from across the booth. “What is happening between you and Pretty Boy?” 

You throw a pointed look at Garcia, who just looks at you guiltily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Morgan.” 

Emily chimes in at that. “Please! Before the two of you would either never talk or when you would, it’d end in an argument. Now suddenly he’s calling you on cases, not interrupting you when you’re presenting--” 

“Maybe, he just finally got some sense.” You interrupt. 

“See, I would say that too.” Emily says. “If he hadn’t asked me where to get that korean tea you like so much.” 

You knew what she was talking about. When you found out you weren’t pregnant and came back to work. You were still hopped up on extra hormones so when you went to make your favorite tea that morning and realized you had forgotten to get more so you were out. When you saw that, you started crying softly. You just wanted tea. Spencer walked in at that moment and you wiped your face furiously so he wouldn’t see the evidence of your tears before speeding out of the kitchen. The next day you walked into the kitchen, expecting to have to make shitty coffee instead, but there was a new box of your tea. You didn’t think much of it. You assumed Garcia got you the box. 

“He probably just wanted it for himself. The box has been feeling a little light lately.” You lie. “I’m serious though. Nothing’s going on.” We just have really hot sex in hopes of him impregnating me. You think. Everyone let’s it go at that point, changing the subject. You were thankful for that. 

——————————————-

The day came around again and Spencer wordlessly just got in your car after you guys’ shift and you didn’t question it, you knew the drill this time around. Spencer hums along to your music playing in the car. You look at him confused. 

“You know California Dreamin’?” You ask. 

“I uh-I heard you tell Garcia about how you liked The Mamas and Papas so I listened to some of their songs. I thought it’d help me understand you more.” 

You don’t turn towards him. You keep your eyes focused on the road so he wouldn’t see the marshmallow soft look that crossed your face. “Did you learn anything?” You ask. 

He clears his throat. “You listen to a lot of soft melodic music. I wouldn’t have thought that considering how you are.” 

“And how am I, Spencer Reid?” 

“Opinionated, loud.” You narrow your eyes at that one but say nothing. “Yet you listen to soft love songs, your favorite movie is Wizard of Oz and you watch nothing but Disney movies in your spare time. You’re not as scary as you think you are.” He says, getting out of the parked car. You speed out the car after him immediately. 

“I’m plenty scary!” You say as the two of you enter your house. 

“Uh-huh, and which Disney movie are we watching tonight?” 

“Frozen, fuck you.” You say leaving behind a laughing Spencer to go take your ovulation test. 

After discovering you were in fact ovulating you went to the living room to put on Frozen. You were about halfway into the sister’s adventure when you asked. 

“Spencer?” You asked from your perch laying on his shoulder. He turns his head down towards you, humming inquisitively. “Emily told me it was you who got my tea.” 

“I did.” He says. 

“Why?” 

He shrugs. “It was upsetting you.” he says, like it’s obvious. 

“I mean, I was upset I was out, sure but it’s not your job to make sure I’m not upset.” 

“It’s specifically my job to do that, Y/N.” He says, turning so he can look you in the eyes. “Y/N, you’re literally about to be the mother of my child. That makes your happiness just as important as this child’s happiness. I’m going to take care of both of you so if buying a 10 dollar box of tea is what will make you happy, I have no issues doing so.” 

The look he gives you is so sincere and your heart flutters when he says it. You don’t know why but you’re suddenly bombarded with thoughts of kissing him and before you can stop yourself you do just that. Spencer hums in shock for a second. But quickly deepens the kiss, tongue tracing over yours. You moan slightly as his hands come up to cup your face. Eventually, the two of you separate, gasping for breath in the small space between you. 

“What was that for?” He says. 

You couldn’t say the real reason that you kissed him was because you wanted to, so bad. It would make things awkward and ruin what was an amazing plan. You needed to remember that you were doing this for the end goal, a child.

“I’m ovulating, so I figured we should start now.” You say. It was only half a lie. 

Spencer looks slightly disappointed for a second before he shakes it off. He stands and grabs your hand tugging you towards the bedroom wordlessly. Once inside, his mouth is on yours again. You smirk against his lips, hands going for each other’s respective clothes. Once undressed he deposits you on the bed, settling into the space between your legs. He’s leaving open mouth bruises on your neck and chest as his hands travel down your body. You stopped him, it wasn’t that you didn’t want that, but you had other plans. 

He looks at you confused for a second. A look that’s replaced completely with wanton desire when you start trailing a hand up and down is underwear clad length. You watch his eyes flutter shut for a second, relishing in the feeling. You smirk at that. You lean up to speak in his ear. 

“I want to ride you.” You say, you feel Spencer’s member twitch in your palm as you say it. “Can I?” 

Spencer nods fast, moving off of you to lay flat on his back. He goes to take off his underwear but you stop him, wanting to do it yourself. You tugged them down his body and as you crawled your way back up you found yourself face to face with a certain predicament. An intrusive thought pops in your head and before you can stop yourself you ask. 

“Can I?” You whisper, you didn’t finish the question but your face was right next to his dick so you figured he’d get the gist. 

“You don’t have to.” Spencer says, though his dick betrays his words as it violently twitches when you bring your mouth slightly towards it. 

“I know.” You whisper before taking the head into your mouth. You hear Spencer hiss above you as you let your tongue swerve over the head. You moan, taking him deeper into your mouth, hand covering what you couldn’t reach. You hear a strangled gasp above you and opt to look up. Nothing could’ve prepared you for that sight. Spencer’s head was thrown back, face and neck flushed and he was biting on his fist to keep from making too much noise. Spencer was always so complimentary of you during these times and you realized you never said what you thought,  that the man above you was beautiful. You still held your tongue though. It was preoccupied anyway. After sometime, Spencer’s hand cups the side of your face, moaning softly as he feels his member through your cheek. He gently pulled you off of him. 

“I need to be inside you.” He says. “Now.”  

You nod, crawling back up his body to straddle his lap. Spencer moves your hips so you’re right above him, allowing you to sink down on his length. The two of you groan at first contact, Spencer gives you a second to adjust, massive hands circling your waist as you rocked yourself back and forth in his lap. You already felt close despite the short amount of time. You look down at the man and he’s looking up at you with a glassy expression. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” He moans, hands tightening on your waist. “You look so hot like this, I’m not going to last long.” 

“Me neither.” You say, Spencer takes that moment to drift his hand to your clit, thumb drawing small circles on the bundle of nerves. You moan out loud, moving your hips faster as Spencer thrusts his hips up to meet yours. 

“Spencer, fuck, I’m gonna--” you cut yourself off with a moan. Spencer is thrusting up into you faster now. 

“Cum for me, baby.” He says, and as if you were waiting for permission, you release moaning Spencer’s names and expletives. Spencer rides you through it, moving your hips on top of him. Before you know it, you’re on your back and Spencer is thrusting back into you hard. You practically scream out as he sets a fast pace chasing his own release. 

“Fuck, you feel so good baby, I’m gonna- fuck.” He says as you feel him release inside you. He thrusts shallowly inside you, riding out his orgasm before pulling out. You wince slightly, lifting your hips so he can slide the pillow under you, knowing the drill by now. Spencer runs, his fingers through your hair, you hum pushing your head into him, like a cat. 

“You ok?” He whispers. “Do you need anything?” 

You shake your head. “Will you come sleep with me?” You ask. 

Spencer smiles softly at you. “Of course, Y/N.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A month passes and cold February winter turns to soft March spring. The weeks that pass are fairly uneventful. You work and come home to an unfortunately empty house. You and Spencer talk about not as much as before and hardly about anything not baby or work related. You could admit that the last time you guys had sex, some lines got blurred and you both needed space from each other to remember that this was still platonic. At least, that’s how you felt and though you never voiced it, Spencer seemed to understand that.

The team was out on a case when you realized. You and Garcia had been on video call with the team when you heard Derek say.    

“Woah, Oz. You look like death warmed over.” 

You roll your eyes. “I’m fine.” 

“She’s not fine.” Garcia butts in. “She’s been throwing up all morning.” 

“L/N, if you’re sick--” Hotch starts. 

“I’m not sick! I feel completely fine, I think I just had some chinese that didn’t sit right. I’ll be fine, can we focus on the case?” You plead, Hotch nods. You see Spencer looking at the screen wide eyed but you don’t understand why. 

“What did you find?” Hotch asks. 

“Ok, Sebastian Henry’s financial records were a little hard to go through. Everything looked pretty normal. So I did a little--” You gag for a second but manage to keep it down. “A little digging and found a s-secret account he’s been m-making large donations to a church that, through more digging, doesn’t exist--” Garcia is already there with the bucket which you snatch and empty your lunch in immediately. 

“We think it’s mafia.” Garcia says, grimacing at the sound of your vomiting. You lift up to see the team giving you empathic looks and Spencer with a deep thinking expression. 

“Great, Garcia, look into that more. And Y/N, go home.” Hotch says. 

“What? Hotch, I’m fine!” 

“And I wasn’t asking.” He says, in that authoritative voice that made you know he meant business. 

“Fine.” you grumble as he ends the call. 

You’re on the way home when you get a call from Spencer. 

“Spencer, what’s up? Does Hotch need me to go back in?” 

“Oh, uh-no.” He says. “Listen, I know you said you’d tell me if something was up but Penelope saying you’d been sick all morning is making me overthink and well, did you take a test?” He asked. 

You look up at that. The two of you had been so busy with cases and work that the one thing you had been waiting for had completely slipped your mind. 

You were late.  

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[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.

Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism

"On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"

You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.

"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song." 

You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention. 

"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"

"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard." 

"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night." 

"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked. 

"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking." 

"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.

"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band." 

"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right." 

You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid. 

You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring. 

You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.

"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!" 

You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!" 

You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation. 

The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover. 

"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.

"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?" 

"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me." 

"What does it look like?" You asked. 

"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one." 

"Jesus." You cursed.

"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told." 

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it." 

You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.

You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned? 

All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back. 

Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine 

You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.

You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.

With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner. 

"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table. 

"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this." 

You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care." 

"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-" 

"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor. 

"It was a gift." He finished anyway. 

You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."

"She died two years ago." He lowered his head. 

Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt. 

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much." 

"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"

From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.

"Yes." You whispered. 

"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering." 

The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.

"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me." 

"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Right.” 

You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage. 

You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help? 

When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.

In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition. 

As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly. 

A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack. 

“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975 

Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile. 

"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you. 

You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?" 

"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy." 

Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music. 

"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush. 

He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone." 

You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans." 

He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"

You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?" 

"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side. 

You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”

"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."

"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."

"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."

You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"

"And The Perfection." She added.

"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."

You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"

Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."

"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."

Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."

Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.

"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.

"Are you kidding?" You spat.

"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"

"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."

"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."

You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."

"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."

You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."

You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.

You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.

"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.

"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"

"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."

"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.

Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"

Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"

"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."

He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.

"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"

You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.

"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."

That seemed to get his attention.

"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."

He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.

You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.

"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."

Your eyes widened. "Off?!"

The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."

You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."

You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."

"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.

That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."

You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."

"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."

"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."

"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"

"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."

She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."

"Where are you going?!" She wailed.

You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."

“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"

"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."

"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."

You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.

"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"

You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."

He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"

"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."

"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."

You let the quiet linger for a moment.

[loveylangdon]

If You Don’t I Will

Word count: 3.3k

JJ Maybank x Reader : showing jj subtle ways of how you care for him and John B is tired of him not seeing it

A/N: I wrote another JJ thing bc im a simp and I love him and this was also another idea thats been floating around. Fluff is you squint but you dont need to squint hard, next will def be angst bc I live for it Xx

 masterlist

*not my gif full credit to owner*

“Hey” you let out as you carry 2 bags of groceries into the cheateu seeing the boys lounging on the couch gathered around John B’s phone you hear a chorus of “hey’s” as you move towards the kitchen. John B looks up and hands his phone to JJ making his way out the front door sending you a wink. Rolling your eyes you follow John B outside to your car. 

“You didn’t have to,” John B says smiling at you grabbing a grocery bag from your trunk shooting you a look 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” you smile innocently to him and make your way over to grab the last grocery bag. You reach past John B until you feel his arm wrap over your shoulder, putting his grocery bag down he wraps his other arm around your shoulder engulfing you in a full hug laying his cheek at the top of your head. You wrap your arms around his torso and give him a squeeze 

“Thank you really” he lets out into your hair. You just give him a hug, you haven’t known them for long but John B automatically became like your brother and JJ was definitely your confidant. When you heard about Big John and Uncle T leaving John B by himself, your heart broke. John B had to support himself and apparently JJ was a constant resident in the chateau and it got harder to support themselves even if they both pitched in. When you found out always being smart with your money you set some aside to help supply the chateau so the boys wouldn’t starve.

JJ broke down one night during a late night smoke sesh you two had to get away from everything. He ended up telling you about his dad and mom in its entirety. After that you guys were kind of inseparable.You told him about why you had to move to OBX and he told you where his bruises and split knuckles came from. You never would’ve guessed one of the most caring people you knew would have to go through that. After that you subtly did more little things that hopefully made it easier on him. 

When you joined the Pogues you fell for his blue eyes and wild personality instantly his careless but protective nature made you fall hard but there was the rule. No Pogue on Pogue macking. Still fairly new to obx barely being here for a year you didn’t know how real the rule was. Being extra nice to JJ consisted of bringing extra of his favorite beer or asking him to buy you joints even though you didn’t smoke often, you would let him keep them, noticing his favorite snacks and bringing them on boat trips. Kie gladly gave up the title of caretaker and let you take over the snacks and picnics for day trips. After JJ told you his secret he made it clear that he didn’t take pity or handouts, you didn’t pity JJ you loved him and just wanted to make sure he knew it. 

So you helped JJ whenever you could making it seem like you were doing it by pure coincidence, knowing that he lived with John B you helped out the house, in general, to make it less obvious. Claiming you all spent so much time there any way it wasn’t fair to not help stock the necessities. 

Breaking away from your thoughts “I’m here for you guys always” you squeeze John B once more after you feel him loosening his grip “Let’s go I got ice cream” as John B fist bumps you snort “Oh I also got a better first aid kit” handing John B the second bag you move to the passenger side of the car. Hearing John B go back into the house you grab the first aid kit and hear footsteps as you open the back seat door to grab blankets. 

“What are the blankets for,” JJ asks questionably moving over to you to help grab some and you see him eye the first aid kit before you tuck it into a blanket

“For movie night. You can’t have a horror movie night without tons of blankets JJ it’s like against the rules” You quickly come up with the excuse. In all honesty it was starting to get colder and knowing the Chateau has minimal heating capacity you were going to accidentally leave them in the house and let the boys use them. The last time you were here late you asked JJ to borrow a sweater or a blanket and he gave you the one he was wearing and soon realized it was probably the only one you’ve seen him wear ever. Noticing Kie always brought her own blanket you assumed they were more supplied for the warmer days. John B was a big boy he would ask for help when he needed it JJ, on the other hand, was stubborn as hell and would rather freeze then ask for anything to help. 

“Okay” JJ says questionably not believing you entirely but not questioning it further “Are you staying tonight?” He asks you can see a glimmer of hope in his ocean eyes as he leans against the car door

“Yeah I think so” you smile and nod at him closing the car up “Are you?”

“No I’m just asking you so you can share my bed with Kie” he deadpans and your cheeks flush 

“Sorry” you squint up at him and you see him smile his “sharky smile” “Are Pope and Kie staying too?” 

“I think so” he nods at you biting his lip and you know he wants to add something but doesn’t

“Can I share a bed with you?” You ask assuming that’s what he wanted to ask “if I have to share a room with both Pope and Kie I might jump off the end of the dock, plus I got those joints still and extra snacks” you chuckle out trying to bribe him like you even have to. You see relief and a cute smile grace his features and you know that’s what he was trying to ask without even asking 

“Yeah you can crash with me, I like you the most anyways” he winks at you and nods towards the house “Have you eaten yet?” He asks you softly as you walk up the driveway “Pope and John B went to help Heyward earlier while I went to work and apparently they ate already” JJ trails off and you frown knowing there hasn’t been food at the chateau in a couple of days and John B has been incognito

“I can make us food,” you say and he perks up “I haven’t eaten yet” you continue which is a lie but he doesn’t need to know that “I bought stuff to make that shrimp thing you were talking about the other day” and you see his face light up as you walk into the house you smile at him and you can see pink dust his cheeks at the fact you remembered that small detail. He puts the blankets down taking the ones in your hands as well and wraps you in a hug carrying you to the kitchen leaving you in a fit of laughter. You see Pope peek his head out over the freezer with raised eyebrows 

“What are you doing,” he asks confused as to why you’re wrapped in JJs arms 

“Get out Pope y/n is making our food” he throws a look at Pope as he sets you down making Pope return a hurt one 

“You guys suck” he huffs out going back into the living room 

JJ sits on the counter as you start to pull out ingredients to make his food, John B put the groceries away thankfully and you hum to a random tune 

“Thank you” JJ lets out in almost a whisper and you look up at him and see he’s playing with the rings on his fingers a nervous habit he has while looking at his lap not making eye contact 

“For what” you feign innocence even though his small thank you made your heart flutter knowing your efforts and little signs of affection didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde boy. Moving to the stove to heat it up JJ finally looks at you and he shrugs his shoulders softly before twiddling his thumbs in his lap

“For taking the time to care about me” he shrugs again like he’s not worth the effort, you go to say something and he cuts you off looking at you with his ocean eyes making you forget how to breathe for a second, sincerity is swimming through them and you can’t help the butterflies in your stomach “I know you had dinner with Kie already. She told me you guys were gonna eat at The Wreck during her break if I wanted to pass by before you went to run errands which I’m assuming was getting food for here” your face flushes at being caught lying about dinner “I also saw the first aid kit you bought, and Its a nice one. I almost stole one just like it from the pharmacy a while back and I know John B doesn’t need one that good” he goes back to looking at his thumbs “And I know the blankets aren’t just for the movie night” He shoots you a knowing look causing you to blush and smile at him, taking a moment in the comforting silence you assume the boys are outside messing around 

Humming you smile giddily not confirming or denying “Okay I’m gonna make you food now go away” you joke shooing him out of the kitchen 

He gasps in shock “You wound me” he clutches his chest with both his hands and falls back against the cabinets “Treating me how I treat Pope now that’s cold” He gets off of the counter still clutching his chest moving closer towards you 

“Leave” you squeal at him as he traps you in between his arms and the sink, he leans in and you think he’s going to finally kiss you, heart beating so fast you think he could hear it if he got any closer. His eyes flicker to your lips and back to your eyes as he licks his lips your breath hitches in your throat, he leans down to place a kiss on your cheek leaving the kitchen and going outside. Watching him retreat you finally let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “Jesus Christ” you huff and go back to making his food with a big smile on your face 

____

“Holy shit” JJ practically moans at the smell coming in from the kitchen “I can’t even think of the last home cooked meal I’ve had what about you John B” You hear JJ ask as him as they walk back into the Chateau,

“Uh I think-” John B starts but is cut off by JJ 

“That was rhetorical bro shut up” you hear them walk into the living room and see them come into the kitchen “we know you have a secret kook family chill” JJ lets out referring to the fact that John B disappears some nights and during the day and no one knows why. Causing a laugh to come from you and a scoff from John B

“That smells delicious y/n” John B lets out which earns a mean look from JJ 

“You can’t have any” JJ says defensively “she made it for me and her you guys are all traitors eating without us” JJ winks at you “what happened to Pogues together for life” JJ adds pointing a finger at John B as you try to stifle a laugh grabbing plates 

John B looks at JJ with the most unamused look you’ve ever seen which causes a burst of laughter from you. Catching John B’s attention he gives you a look as if asking if JJ is serious, you shrug your shoulders as John B scoffs “I welcome you into my home JJ and this is how you repay me” He tsks opening a beer for you and placing it on the counter by your plates, he gives you a side hug and places a kiss on your forehead before retreating outside to help Pope and Kie with a projector she found in her garage. As he walks through the living room you hear “Eat your food dumbass, and if you don’t marry her I will” John B shouts out and you immediately turn to look at John B who has his beer raised in the air “Salud” and he walks out of the Cheateu. 

Turning to JJ his face is beat red and you let out a small laugh as JJ groans mumbling something about murdering John B “Here eat tough guy I’m gonna grab blankets for outside” you say as you place a plate in front of JJ. You’re about to walk into John B’s room when you feel JJ grab your hand 

“Stay please” he lets out a smile while tugging on your wrist gently patting the spot next to him, you can tell he wants to say something again but you can’t tell what its gonna be because he’s looking down at his plate of food. Your foot starts tapping the floor a nervous tick you have when you can’t tell how something is gonna play out. His head snaps to your knee placing his hand there gently to stop it and he looks up at you “Don’t do that, not around me” he lets out looking at you 

“wha-”

“You do that when your nervous or unsure of a situation” he squeezes your knee in a comforting motion giving you a small smile at your confused expression, “You think you’re the only one who notices things around here” he shoots you a look and his eyes go wide trying to cover up his confession with a chuckle 

“Do you JJ Maybank have feelings for little old me” you shoot him an amused look with a gasp. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out and he looks at you sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck while pink tints his cheeks 

“Hey, Lovebirds we got the movie set up come on” you hear John B yell from outside. You move to get up and JJ stops you looking up at you with a look of concentration before he exhales

“I like you y/n a lot actually and it’s scaring me. I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m not used to this or feeling wanted, hell even wanting to be around one person constantly is new for me. You are this incredible person who came out of fucking nowhere and the first thing you did was make sure everyone is taken care of. I didn’t even notice what you would do for me at first because I was so angry at everything. John B pointed it out to me when we found more of my favorite snacks in the cupboard than his” he let out a chuckle and you did too “He told me to stop being stupid and I realized then all the small things you would do for me like when I wouldn’t eat with you guys you brought food, or extra snacks on boat trips when you knew I was going home after, you and Kie would go shopping and you literally got me a hoodie because you told me it reminded you of me. No one has cared about me in the way you have and I’m so sorry for not realizing it sooner” you squeeze his hand gently reassuring him noticing his voice waiver “you’re so strong and stubborn but god if it didn’t make me fall for you harder, and I wasn’t gonna say anything because there is no way in hell that I’m good enough for you, I mean seriously I don’t know what you see-” cutting him off you place a kiss to his lips to shut him up, he places his hand on the side of your neck holding your jaw melting into the kiss. This is what heaven feels like you think. This blonde haired blue eyed prince. JJ breaks apart and rests his forehead against yours smiling like an idiot 

“I like you a lot actually too, if you couldn’t tell” you whisper out causing him to let out a laugh placing a chaste kiss to your lips, pulling you into his lap, your back to his chest as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck before you move to face him “Oh” you let out and he looks confused, you shoot him a look and he smirks. Hitting his chest playfully “get your head out of the gutter” 

“I know exactly where I would like my head to be” he smirks placing a kiss to your pulse. Rolling your eyes at him you start off “If I hear you talk bad about yourself I will fight you Maybank do you hear me” you look at him knowingly and he raised his eyebrows as if telling you to proceed “That is a fight you will lose every time. I can promise you,” you look at him softly “you deserve the world and all the love that comes with it, you care so much about your friends you’re willing to do anything to protect them literally anything” emphasizing the literally he lets out a chuckle “You are so kind, generous always giving even when you don’t have much yourself that’s what I love about you. There is more good than what you define yourself as and if you have doubts I will be more than glad to fight them with you” you let out rubbing your thumb on his cheek which he nuzzles into until he crashes his lips into yours again. 

“I thought you were eating, you haven’t even started are you kidding? YOU GUYS ARE MACKING we’ve been waiting for like 10 minutes” John B lets out from the doorway of the house raising his arms in a what the fuck motion, causing you both to laugh “J I’m proud of you for finally telling her, but Jesus come on guys the foods all cold, we don’t even have snacks because you’re distracting y/n, we’re dying out here” he fake whines 

“Sorry John B” you let out a smile knowing you usually prepare the snacks for movie nights but got distracted

“My girlfriend is not your Slave John B get your own snacks” JJ jokes holding onto you tighter

“Says the guy she made dinner for but hasn’t even touched it yet!” John B says dramatically “honestly the disrespect happening in this house, everything is all out of wack,” John B says going to the fridge and grabbing a case of beer and candy making his way back outside before he turns around heading back to you and JJ “Actually,” he says out loud before taking JJ’s plate with food taking a bite and moaning at the taste John B continues “I’m serious y/n if he doesn’t marry you I will” he gets out with a mouth full of food, moving slightly to avoid JJ arms that are trying to swat him for taking his food. John B walks out of the house leaving you two alone again 

“I’ll get you another plate, grab the blankets?” you ask chuckling as you move to get JJ another plate of food but he stops you. 

Taking his pinky ring off his finger he places it on your fingers trying to find the best fit, finally, it fits on your middle finger, a little loose but not by much, he chuckles “maybe I’ll get you a chain for it” he states chuckling he kisses your knuckles when he’s done “Not an engagement ring but a temporary promise ring until we get you a real one so John B can stop trying to steal you from me.”

“I think its perfect” He smiles bright placing a kiss on your lips and you know that this is exactly where you’re supposed to be

________

A/N: so I wrote another jj thing bc who is not a whore for jj especially soft jj. Roughly edited but not really, this has been floating in my head for a while so feedback and commentary is again always welcome my inbox is always open I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did Xx 

[drabbles-mc]

First Impressions

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by @eversonaive​ : Could do a fic on the reader meeting Juice when he has the sign stuck to his chest only to find out later he is the club's intelligence officer lol

Part 2 can be found Here

Warnings: language, Juice being an embarrassed lil cutie

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I loved writing this. Flustered Juice gives me life lmao. I hope it’s what you had in mind! I peppered in a couple other of our SAMCRO boys because why not?

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

SOA Taglist: @adela-topaz-caelon​ @garbinge​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @masterlistforimagines​ @mijop​ @chibsytelford​ @xladymacbethx​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @mayans-sauce​ @shadow-of-wonder​ (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing please let me know! xo)

You couldn’t pretend that you weren’t surprised, and a little off-put by the scene in front of you. You looked around, wondering why you felt like you were the only one who saw what you were seeing. Everyone else was walking by, minding their own business, but you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t notice.

Crouching down, you pressed your fingers gently against the side of his neck, and you were rewarded with a fairly steady pulse. Relief flooded through you, glad you weren’t going to have to report a dead body. However, you weren’t quite sure how to handle the scene in front of you.

Gently nudging him, you tried to wake him up. He let out a soft groan but didn’t fully wake up. With a heavy sigh, you shook him a little harder but weren’t able to wake him. Pressing your lips together into a thin line, you patted the side of his face. You saw his brows furrow and twitch and you knew that he was almost awake.

“Hey,” you shook him and patted his cheek again, “you good?”

With a groan and what seemed like more effort than it should’ve taken, he slowly started to open his eyes. Part of you wanted to laugh because he seemed like he was probably going to be alright, but more than anything you were just confused.

“You alright? Looks like you’ve had…a time.”

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at the state of himself. The fact that he didn’t seem shocked and appalled spoke volumes. With a quiet grunt, he forced himself to his feet.

“Do I have to be worried about you?” you couldn’t help but to look him up and down again. With a chuckle and a shake of his head he reassured you that he was fine, which did little to actually make you feel better, “There somewhere I should be take you?”

He laughed, “No. Don’t worry. Thank you for, uh, waking me up. Way better than getting kicked by the cops,” he shook his head.

“Small miracles,” you had to laugh.

“Yea,” he glanced down at the sign on his chest and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he was weighing the pros and cons of ripping it off right then and there, “I should go. I’m uh,” he gestured to the cardboard, “apparently late for my eight o’clock feeding.”

You smiled and shook your head, “Well that’s unfortunate.”

With a deep breath he pulled the sign from his chest and you both cringed. He cursed under his breath from the pain of it before folding it and tucking it underneath his arm. He gave you a lopsided grin and a small wave before turning and walking in the other direction away from you. You stood there, feeling like you should be offering him a shirt, or something to at least tie around his waist, but he seemed pretty unbothered by it all, so you let him go. You shook your head to yourself as you continued on your way, unable to believe what a weird day you’d already had.

A few days went by and you hadn’t forgotten about your run-in on the street that morning. It was a tough scene to forget. You didn’t want to believe that that was going to be the first and last time you ever saw him. If nothing else, you just wanted some closure on the situation, and you also wanted to know how the hell he ended up like that.

Your mind had wandered back to that situation as you stood outside your car waiting for the tow truck. You knew that your car was on its last leg to begin with, and that you should’ve set about looking for a new one some time ago, but you just kept putting it off. The thought of shopping for one, and then paying for one was overwhelming. You were paying for it in an entirely different way now, though. You knew that fixing whatever was wrong with your car was probably going to cost more than it was worth. So, to distract yourself from thinking about that, you thought about literally anything else as you sat half propped up onto your hood.

You’d gone to Teller-Morrow one other time, maybe twice, since you’d moved just outside of Charming. You didn’t remember anything about it, though—you were in and out quick for an oil change or something equally innocuous. There weren’t a whole lot of options for mechanics to begin with, let alone ones that would also tow. Plus you figured since they were local, it wouldn’t take them too long to get to you.

About twenty minutes later the tow-truck pulled up, and you were a mix of relieved and apprehensive. Two men stepped out, and your first thought was that they couldn’t have carried themselves more differently from each other if they tried. The taller one approached you, adjusting his beanie slightly as he did, while the other scampered around to start hooking the truck up to your car.

“So,” he walked up to you, a small smile on his face for a moment as he looked at you, “what seems to be the problem?”

You chuckled and shook your head as you clocked the name stitched into his work shirt, “Well, it stopped running. That’s about all I know, Opie,” you smiled at him.

He laughed, nodding his head slightly, “Sounds like a pretty serious issue, then.”

“I’d say so.”

He glanced back to make sure that your car had been hooked up alright, “You need to be dropped off somewhere, or you got a ride?”

You sighed, resting your hand on the back of your neck as you thought, “Would I be able to ride back to the shop with you guys?”

He nodded, “Sure thing. Long as you don’t mind Kip staring at you the whole time,” he gestured over to the man who was waiting by the door of the tow truck.

You laughed, “Staring I can handle.”

When they pulled into the lot at the mechanics, Opie got out and instructed Kip to take care of the rest. He looked over to you and gestured to the office, “Gemma will get you all set up. We’ll get it right on the lift and try to figure out what’s going on.”

You nodded, “Thank you, appreciate it.”

You knocked lightly on the door to the office and she called for you to come in. She got you all squared away with your paperwork to get everything started. You let her know that if it ended up being more than a certain amount to just not bother and scrap it, or to give it back and you would take care of that part yourself. You weren’t in a position to be paying more than the car was worth. There was sympathy present in her eyes as she listened to you, nodding along. You hated the feeling of pity but you couldn’t deny that you’d landed yourself into a bit of a hole.

She was walking you back out of the office, “We’ll give you a call when we’ve got some numbers for you, sweetheart.”

“Sounds good. Thank you guys so much.”

“Need us to call you a cab?”

You shook your head, “No, no I’ll be alright. Thank you though.”

You were walking across the lot, pulling out your phone as you did to try and figure out who you were going to call to come and pick you up. There was a sudden influx of noise and voices. And despite the fact that you heard it, you still didn’t look up.

The only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was the feeling of someone’s shoulder bumping into yours. You looked up and both of you were in the middle of apologizing when your eyes met his. Neither of you could hide the shock on your faces as you took each other in.

He looked a lot different when he wasn’t coming out of a mild coma. And also when he was fully dressed with an MC kutte on. You’d missed out on the fact that he was handsome in the midst of worrying about his well-being the last time you saw him.

“Oh shit,” he laughed, “hey.”

“Uh, hey,” you couldn’t help but to stare at him, “I didn’t…expect to see you here. Or again in general, for that matter.”

Another man in a kutte appeared, draping his arm around the shoulder of the man that you were talking to, “Juicy,” he said, “who’s your friend?”

He wore his nerves on his face, “Um. She’s not, uh, she’s—”

You cut him off to save him the trouble, holding out your hand, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he let your name roll off his tongue, “nice to meet you. I’m Jax,” he paused, looking back and forth between you and the man next to him, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, “Sorry to interrupt,” you could see that he was biting back a laugh.

“No, you’re…you’re good,” you reassured him, “Nothing to interrupt. Just, um, a little surprised by,” you gestured to the two of them and to the clubhouse behind them, “all of this.”

“Well then I gotta ask,” Jax continued to stare at Juice who seemed to be getting more and more shy by the second, “how do you know Charming’s favorite Puerto Rican Intelligence Officer?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped past your lips, “Intelligence Officer?”

Jax nodded, clapping Juice on the back as though he thought he was hyping him up, “For the club, yea. Can find out anything about anyone. Also our resident tech guy.”

You chuckled, unable to lie and say that you weren’t a little impressed, “Impressive. Guess we didn’t have time to get into all that last time we met.”

“Oh?” Jax looked back and forth between the two of you, embarrassment creeping onto Juice’s features.

“Yea, he was running a behind schedule. Had places to be.”

Jax looked over at him, “Where the hell did you have to be that could’ve been more important, bro?”

Juice ran his hands down his face, knowing that he was going to have to cop to it sooner or later, “When we met I was, um…she actually…” he shook his head, “She’s the one who woke me up the other day. Made sure I was alright.”

The entire incident had clearly already faded from Jax’s memory because he looked as lost as he had been before Juice said anything. You smiled, “I made sure he eventually made it to his eight o’clock feeding.”

Recognition flashed across Jax’s face and he laughed, “Jesus. Sorry you had to be a part of that.”

“Sure, her you’ll apologize to,” Juice rolled his eyes.

“She didn’t deserve it,” Jax chuckled and shook his head, “Well it was nice meeting you, Y/N. I’ll leave Juice to try and clean up whatever mess he might’ve made.”

He walked away from the both of you and you could head him laughing to himself as he approached the rest of the guys. You and Juice stood there facing each other, neither one of you really knowing what to say.

You broke the silence, “Won’t lie to you, Juice,” it felt nice to finally be able to address him as something, “over the past few days when I’ve been trying to think about what your life was like for it to land you in that situation, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“You’ve been thinkin’ about me?” he smirked.

You laughed, rolling your eyes, “You made quite the impression,” you looked him in the eyes, “I’m glad you’re alright though.”

He chuckled, “Not the worst thing they’ve ever done to me.”

You smiled and shook your head, “Well that’s a little concerning.”

“Sorry you got, uh, subjected to that,” he shook his head, “wrong place, wrong time.”

You waited for him to meet your gaze and you flashed him a smile, “I wouldn’t quite say that.”

There was a light in his eyes that was so enticing, “Right. Well. I’m glad I got a chance to make a better first impression. Sort of. Maybe,” he laughed. There were a few beats of silence before he spoke up again, “What brings you here anyway?”

You nodded towards the garage, “Car broke down.”

“Shit.”

Your laugh was a hollow, “Yea. Fucking sucks. Hoping they can fix it without bleeding me dry.”

Juice thought hard about it for a few moments, “I’ll take a look at it. I’ll see what I can do, see if I can get you a deal or something.”

“Yea?” you couldn’t hide your relief.

He nodded, “Yea. Least I could do.”

“You’d really be saving my ass.”

He laughed, “Guess that would make us even.”

You chuckled and nodded, “Guess so.”

He paused for a moment, eyes glued to the pavement, “If you want, you could, uh, you could give me your number,” he looked up at you, “and I’ll give you a call when I get it all sorted.”

You smiled, “Alright. Sounds good,” you held out your hand for his phone and quickly added your number to his contacts, “Hope to hear from you soon, Juice.”

“Juan,” he said quietly as he took the phone back from you.

“Hm?”

He looked at you, “Juan. My name is Juan.”

You smiled, “Well, then, Juan, I’ll talk to you soon,” you paused and bit back a laugh, “Try to keep yourself out of sticky situations, alright?”

“Well now at least I have you to call just in case,” he smirked.

“Won’t be able to come and get you until you fix my car,” you chuckled, “So at least be careful for a few days.”

“I think I can do that.”

“Good,” you stepped in and gave him a quick hug, “Thank you, Juan, seriously.”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Looking forward to it,” you flashed him a smile before turning and continuing your way out of the parking lot.

You chanced a look back over your shoulder and saw that he was still standing there staring at you with a smile and a dreamy look on his face. You laughed and shook your head as you turned back around. There was something to be said about memorable first impressions, and something told you that you had landed yourself in an adventure when you met him. You were excited to find out what was in store.

[dianapana]

SH Day 9 – Never Have I Ever

@sasuhinamonth

Rated T, Modern AU, OOC

Oof , for this one ideas just wouldn't come to me, so once again I looked through older stories I never finished and found this one which I thought fit to a certain degree. I didn’t really wanna go the normal route of the game itself, so I just interpreted the prompt as a new experience. I hope you enjoy, ~Love, Dia

It wasn’t uncommon for people to randomly sit down at his table, especially if those people were girls. They’d stumble onto the seat and act like it was all an accident, like they didn’t see him and thought the table was empty, or that they tripped and ‘landed’ on the seat. Other times they’d ask if they could sit because there were no free tables anymore, granted this last excuse happened to be true once or twice, but usually, it was just a lie and the two would sit in awkward silence for a few moments staring at each other with a number of empty seats all around.

However, the person sitting across from him was a girl he saw around the diner quite often, urgency written all over her face. Sasuke raised an eyebrow at her, but the situation didn’t faze him at all, thus he continued eating, putting 2 French fries in his mouth and slowly chewing, waiting for her to state her reason and purpose.

“I need you to pretend we’re here together” Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her. “My ex just walked in and I’m not in the mood to deal with him. If I’m here with someone, in this case you, he’ll either leave me alone or he’ll at least leave sooner.” His eyes moved to a guy that was just walking to the counter still obvious to his ex-girlfriend. “Please…” her eyes were begging him to help.

Sasuke sighed and pushed his milkshake her way. “It’d be strange if we were here together and I was the only one that had ordered something” Her pale eyes lit up like Christmas trees.

“Thank you so much. I’m Hinata by the way” She gave him a genuine smile. He nodded her way.

“Sasuke. I’d shake your hand but that would look strange since we’re supposed to be here together.”

For a second, silence fell over their table but Hinata started giggling at what he just said, her laugh could have also been intertwined with nervous laughter for it was a little too loud for Sasuke’s own liking, either way, he couldn’t help but smirk her. Naruto would freak if he saw Sasuke talking to a stranger, a girl no less, and not only that, but he was actually putting in the effort to help her and maintain a conversation. He had never willingly had a conversation with a stranger before.

Sadly Hinata’ sudden laughing fit turned the attention of a white-haired guy, also known in Sasuke’s head as the girl’s ex, to them. The said guy looked their way, moment in which Sasuke noticed the myriad of feelings showing onto his expression, he seemed to go from hopeful to confused to slightly irritated and then settle for putting on a fake smile and strolling their way.

“Hinata, long time no see, how are you?” The ex-boyfriend looked at her and gave Sasuke a not-so-subtle glare. He took in their table before raising an eyebrow and immediately asking another question, essentially cutting Hinata off before she could answer his first question. “Matcha milkshake? I thought you hated those”

“Oh, I used to yea, but I think they changed the receipt here. I tasted one sip from when Sasuke ordered one last time and it was pretty good, so today I wanted to see for myself” She said smoothly and took a big sip of her, well…his milkshake. “And I’ve been pretty good. How about yourself?” She smiled way too sweetly at him.

“Uh…can’t complain” He took another second to examine them again. “Well, I was actually thinking maybe we can get together and have dinner sometime next week?”

“Dude, you don’t ask out a girl when she’s already out with another guy, that’s just fucking messed up” Sasuke said, without actually meaning to his voice got deeper and he glared at the ‘ex-boyfriend’. He didn’t care that he and Hinata weren’t there together for real, it’s a universal rule you don’t ask out a girl if she’s there with a date, that’s just a douchey move.

Hinata was grinning at him from behind her hand, her eyes glittering with amusement. Sasuke had to admit something to himself, the strange girl was pretty, but she was even more beautiful while she smiled.

“Chill dude. I didn’t think this was a date” he said raising his hands as if trying to say he meant no harm. “I mean who the fuck brings a date at this shitty diner” He whispered under his breath, but both Hinata and Sasuke heard him and their moods turned pretty dark. Sasuke’s instinct was the punch the guy’s lights out, another new feeling he hadn’t experienced, at least not because of a girl. He is usually in control of his emotions and rarely loses his cool.

“Sasuke wanted to go have a sweet picnic in the park near my house, which was so thoughtful and sweet, but sadly the weather didn’t agree with him because it started raining. That’s when I remembered how I wanted to taste the milkshake, so I proposed we came here to wait for the rain to stop.” Sasuke had to admit, her lying skills were top-notch, her story had a natural flow to it, she composed a strong and believable narrative with pretty much no holes, her delivery too added to its credibility, fot she spoke with such ease. Hinata reached for his hand that was on the table and squeezed it while spreading her web of lies. Sasuke noticed the ex-boyf rolling his eyes, and a part of him felt utter satisfaction from the jerk’s annoyance.

“Whatever. I gotta bounce anyway. See you around” He turned and started walking out the diner without waiting for a reply. Sasuke snorted when he noticed that the ex didn’t even purchase anything. He was lost in his own world of trash-talking the guy but was got distracted by the petite girl in front of him that whispered not so quietly “I fucking hope not.”

“Well, that was fun.” He smirked at her. “Let me guess, bad break-up?” Hinata sighed and ran both hands over her face.

“The worst. It was a set up and we went on a few dates which were fine I guess, but I just didn’t really want a relationship at the time, or at least not with him. Either way, the break-up itself took like 3 hours cuz he just wouldn’t accept it.” She took another sip of his milkshake and gaged. “Oh god, I forgot how awful this tasted.” She said more to herself, it didn’t take her a full second to turn beet-red.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry this is yours. I d-didn’t mean to drink from it, it just happened. Let me buy you a new one” She got onto her feet but Sasuke grabbed her wrist and forced her to sit back down.

“Don’t worry about it. You barely drank any”

Had he been in his right mind he’d tell the girl to buy him extra fries too for the trouble and then he’d tell her to scramble. But for some reason or another, he didn’t want her to leave just yet. He pulled the glass back to him and drank from it just to prove to her everything was fine.

“I don’t understand how you can drink that. It’s not even sweet” Her nose wrinkled in disgust, Sasuke didn’t throw the world ‘cute’ around easily but she looked adorable.

“I hate sweets. So, this is perfect” Her jaw dropped, she looked like he had just said he hated puppies and his mother. Hinata blinked a few times, closed her mouth and opened it to say something, closed it back again. She looked genuinely confused, like someone that hated sweets wasn’t meant to exist.

“I-I don’t understand. How can you hate sweets? T-They make the world a better place. Don’t tell me that after a shitty day you don’t go home to eat a gallon of ice cream with a dozen of cookies because I will not believe you”

Now it was his turn to gag just thinking about the amount of sugar in the ‘snack’ she described. His reaction repulsed her.

“Oh wow. I’m perplexed. I had no idea people like you existed”

The fact that she said it with straight face made him believe she honestly didn’t think that what he said could be true, which for some reason he found extremely funny.

“Huh, you learn something every day.” She said with a smile, it seemed she had gotten over her confusion and found the whole conversation quite as amusing as he did.

A waitress came over to take Sasuke’s now empty milkshake glass.

“Would you like anything else?”

“Could you please bring me a veggie burger and a blueberry lemonade? And some fries too” She ordered and it relieved him that she did, he hadn’t had a lunch companion besides Naruto in a while.

“I’d also like some fries and another matcha milkshake”

“I’ll be right back,” The older woman said and left right away. When he turned back to the girl before him, she was staring at him with a small smile on her lips so he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I was sure you’d tell me to leave, or tell the waiter you’d like the bill and left yourself.” She put both of her hands on the table and played with her bracelet. “I’ve seen you around the diner. You’re not the…most welcoming face here and I’ve also saw you get up and leave on multiple occasions when someone sat at your table”

Her cheeks were a shade or two darker and she didn’t look at him but rather looked at her fidgeting hands. She was embarrassed for admitting she noticed him way before this encounter, she was nervous that she had crossed a line. What she said was true, he knew he wasn’t the nicest person but he did genuinely enjoy her presence, also he’d been in a number of situations where he would have liked someone to pretend to be there with him so he’d escape an acquaintance or a fangirl. Plus, the very same day Naruto told him he should do an act of ‘kindness’ a day or his karma would turn bad. He didn’t believe in the nonsense his blonde friend talked about, but when she sat down she looked in so much distress even he didn’t have the heart to tell her to leave.

“You’re right, But, you looked frightened, I’m not heartless,” He said in a neutral voice and Hinata blushed even redder. His lips twitched upward. Where did her confidence and acting skills go?

“I-I-I didn’t mean you are heartless…just…umm, uh” she was at a loss of words.

“It’s fine. You didn’t offend me” Hinata looked up at him relived.

“I didn’t? Oh, that’s really good, because I didn’t mean anything rude by what I said” her shoulders relaxed and her blush faded, not completely she was still a bit flushed but not quite as red as before.

“Since you knew there was a chance, I’d leave why did you sit here?”

Her smile softened a little. “Have you ever seen a person and had the urge to talk to them? For them to be your friend? I don’t mean to sound creepy, but every time I saw you here, I always wanted to talk to you, I just never had the courage. I guess the situation gave me the opportunity to do so. And I’m quite glad because, I don’t know about you, but I’m having a pretty good time talking to you” her cheeks flared even redder with each confession, for some reason admitting her thoughts in front of him was embarrassing. “Oh, just so you know, I’ve never done this before. I just had a pretty bad day and didn’t want it to get worse by having to be in his company for long.”

Their talk continued for a while longer until finally, their food arrived. The older waitress placed their orders on the table.

“There you go. Enjoy your food”

“Thank you” Hinata nodded at the waitress with a smile.

“I have one more question.” Sasuke said as Hinata took a sip of her lemonade, but gestured with her hand for him to go on. “What happened? When he was here you were a very smooth talker, but when you thought you offended me you seemed to be drowning in your own words”

Her blush came back and Sasuke decided he quite liked how she looked with it. She played with the tips of her hair, rolling it onto her finger. “W-when I was little, I was extremely shy, I couldn’t even look at strangers, my parents entered me in acting classes in hopes that I’d get over it. It didn’t really go as planned. I’m a lot better now, obviously but I still get anxious easily. Even so the acting classes did help me, when I’m in a crisis I seem to calm down and I’m able to collect my thoughts” She looked a bit over his shoulder in deep thought. “It’s like a defence mechanism but it doesn’t always work. Case in point when I o-offended you, which I’m sorry about again”

“I see…also you didn’t offend me, I told you this before. You only stated your opinion, which was true by the way”

She smiled at him once more and they started eating, it wasn’t complete silence, they made small talk asked about normal things, hobbies, friends, school and all that. Once they were finished and Sasuke asked for the bill since it was getting pretty dark and the rain finally stopped, he noticed her playing with the bracelet again.

“Something wrong?”

“Huh?” she looked up at him confused.

“You were fidgeting your hands like you did before when you were nervous. Is something bothering you?”

Hinata opened her mouth. They had spent about 2 or 3 hours together and he was able to pick up some of her habits already. He did seem like the type of person that paid attention, he was quiet but observing. Without meaning to she associated him with one of those old people from the park that sit on a bench and watch everyone pass by, like they don’t belong to this world, they just witness it, they are watchers that see the smallest details.

He didn’t know what she was thinking about, but her smile was beautifully tragic, she seemed sad, or at least contemplative.

“I was just thinking how much I enjoyed our…lunch? Dinner? And was wondering how awkward it would be to…a-ask for your number m-maybe?”

He also liked when she stuttered a little. “I don’t see why not. I enjoyed myself as well”

If only Naruto saw him give his number to a girl, the blonde would never let this slide, which was also why he’d never tell his blonde best friend about the petite blue-haired girl that made his ordinary day a little bit extraordinary, she proved that sometimes doing things you’ve never done can have a good end result, in this case talking to a stranger and pretending to date led to a pleasant evening and hopefully a friend and maybe more.

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

Up In the Air (Joe x Reader)

(surprise gift for you guys on Joe's birthday ^_^ I started this almost exactly a year ago, and it's finally done! Someone pointed out that I slightly hinted at the plot of this in my last fic post... you caught me.)

Words: 4,028

Prompt: Spring, 1983. Joe has an opportunity in his sights, but as luck would have it, it does not go his way (or does it...?)

-----

(1983)

"God, it was so embarrassing!" Joe put his palms over his eyes as he whined to Sav. The singer was flat on his back in the middle of their bed, and Sav's back was against the wall opposite him. The bassist had his arms crossed in exasperation.

They were back in a fresh, new hotel room after another flight to another city. They'd been settled in for a while, and- as far as you knew- Joe was physically well. Emotionally, however...

"What are the odds that things were placed so perfectly for me today, and then-?!" he swatted the air above him, "That happens? 'Just my luck!"

Sav didn't consider it as dire of a situation as Joe did. In fact, he seemed rather entertained than sympathetic.

"That was out of your control, mate."

"I know it was, but-" he sat up, "Y/n was right there! How was I supposed to keep it together?!"

"If it were anyone else other than her, you still would've had to keep it together, you know," Sav tilted his head down, but had his eyes looking up.

"Well, you're no help," Joe grumbled, crossing his arms back at the bassist and flopping back down onto the mattress.

"There's nothing to help you with!" Sav took a seat at the foot of the bed, "It's not my fault you got-"

Joe sat up again in a snap, warning with a pointed finger, "Don't say it."

"I was just gonna say that I had nothing to do with you being-"

"Don't say it!" Joe pleaded again.

"Joe, it's not that big of a deal that you-"

"Sav!"

"Alright, fine!" Sav threw up both hands, shaking his head and narrowly fighting off a laugh, "I won't say it!"

A loud sigh came from Joe, his head hanging now. The heat of embarrassment refused to leave his face.

"...do you think she's still hung up on it, too?" his voice went quiet, and his tone adopted a sad air.

Sav raised his hand, rubbed his fingers together, and patted Joe's ankle reassuringly.

"It's hard to say no," he admitted, "I know I wouldn't have liked to be in either of your shoes today."

~(5 hours earlier)~

A hand took a grip on your right forearm without warning. It snapped you from the hypnotic, musical trance you'd been in for most of the flight. Having been placed next to the singer for the first time on an airplane, you knew it was his action without a doubt. You looked down and sure enough, Joe's hand was there- holding onto you just a bit too tightly.

Your free hand took off your headphones and you asked him, "Everything alright?"

The singer wasn't focused on you, or anything, it seemed. "Unfocused" was probably the best word you could think of to describe him. His head was slightly tilted downwards, but his eyes were fixed on the back of the chair in front of him. Despite that, it appeared as if he couldn't see it no matter how hard he tried.

You gathered this impression from a split second of looking at him, but as soon as he heard your question, Joe's hold on you was instantly released. His own trance was snapped as well.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I thought you were the armrest..."

"You were holding on pretty tight," you pointed out, "Something wrong?"

That same look on his face was back again; unfocused. His hand slowly found its way back to the armrest- now that he knew it wasn't your arm. You saw his hand shaking before he gripped it tightly.

"You don't look so good," you noted, adopting a frown.

He hesitated slightly before going very quiet, his face suddenly appearing pallid.

"Fuck..." Joe cursed himself, "I fucked up, I fucked up..."

You pressed again, "Joe... tell me what's wrong..."

He lied to you in a halting voice when a new blush seemed to form on his face, "Um... it's nothing much. There's just- something I haven't told you, and I should've mentioned it before we got on board. But I..."

He fell quiet.

"Yeah...?" you urged him to go on.

"I get... seasick- airsick... sometimes. Not every time, but... every now and then I do- and..."

He visibly swallowed, his breath trembling when he slowly shut his eyes.

Your eyebrows went up, alarmed, "And you're not feeling so good?"

"No, no, no...!" his inner voice screamed.

"Not really, but I'm fine, don't worry about me. It just happens."

His efforts to shrink the overall worry didn't work, as you instantly knew that if things went south, you were the only nearby acquaintance of his who could help him. You were also trapped with him for 2 more hours until you landed, so you would've had to help him if need be.

"Oh god- are you gonna be sick?" your hand raised up slightly to reach for a sick bag.

"No! No, I'm more dizzy than anything..."

"Well, take this-" you handed him a sick bag, "-and just try not to focus on your surroundings. And if you can't hold it down... well just keep it in the bag and away from me, okay?"

"...okay," he exhaled and took it from you, desperately hoping it wouldn't come to that. For fuck's sake, he was already embarrassed enough. He felt like a child. Even worse; he felt like your child.

Joe shut his eyes again and rested his head back on his seat. His whole body looked drained of energy, and you saw sweat forming on his forehead. It was obvious to you he was trying to make himself appear more okay than he was.

"I can do this," Joe nearly said aloud, "I can get through this without her knowing."

Unfortunately, for him, you already knew.

"The poor guy," you were thinking with sympathy, "Never knew he could look so ill."

You asked, "You've been feeling bad for a while, haven't you?"

"...what?" he squinted under his eyelids, lying to you again, "No, not really. Why, can you tell?"

"I don't wanna sound rude... but yeah, you kind of look like hell."

Joe quietly whined at your declaration.

"I know that look, Elliott- I've been in this position before."

The man next to you was intrigued by what you implied. He was suddenly beginning to think that maybe his situation wasn't as embarrassing as it appeared.

His eyes opened, "Wait, have you ever-?"

"Oh- no, I never get sick on planes, but you're not the first case I've ever seen."

"Great. This means she's stronger than me."

You held up your bottle, "You want some water? Maybe settle your stomach a little?"

Joe felt his stomach turn at the mention of liquid and shook his head, "No, I'll be fine..."

It was another lie, but you decided maybe it was best you just let him be. Perhaps he wasn't that bad.

Joe, on the other hand, was fighting the sickness with all the strength he could muster- hoping you wouldn't see it.

"Don't mess this up," he was telling himself, "She's right there. Keep it together and don't balls it up...!"

Going with your plan, you let him be, and put your headphones back on.

He took a deep breath, "Fuck, if only the seatbelt lock wasn't on... then at least I could hide in the bathroom..."

The Leppard waited in terrified silence for his ailment to subside. With the current turbulence, it was impossible. Every shudder and bump made him want to heave until there was nothing left in his stomach. Worst of all, there was no where he could run to; he was trapped.

Oddly enough, before the sickness hit him, he was actually excited to be trapped there.

It was no secret among the band members that Joe quickly developed a crush on you. What started out as a feeling of preferring you over anyone else in the crew soon turned into a reach for romance. There was no time for him to make a move in the midst of the tour, though, which left him to suffer in his teenage desire alone.

When he heard he would be seated next to you on the next flight, he instantly knew it was an opportunity he couldn't afford to waste. This was the first time he'd sat directly by you on a plane, after all. It was a brilliant time to make a move and bond together. He'd been nervous ever since he sat down, but he never got the chance to make a flirt or decent conversation before his body betrayed him. Yes, it was an optimistic opportunity, but now Joe wished it'd been anywhere except up in the air.

The stress of the situation only made him feel worse- but he wouldn't accept the fact that he was about to lose this divine opening.

Not 4 minutes of your music went by when the plane shook yet again. When it did, you thought you saw Joe suddenly move from the corner of your eye. When your head turned, you saw his fist pressed against his mouth, an arm around his stomach, and a green tint over his pallid face.

"Woah, you alright?" you took your headphones off again.

Joe only nodded, closing his eyes to reassure you (but also to reprimand himself under the surface).

"No, no no!! Stop being sick for fuck's sake! You won't have a chance with her!!"

"I'm good, I'm good," he swallowed again, wiping sweat off his bangs, "Go back to your music."

"Don't lie to me, Joe. You look terrible-! Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"I'm really not that bad, Y/n. Just a little... motion sickness..." his breathing became labored, and he angled his body as far to his right as he could. He began to fidget with something as he swallowed, "Ohh..."

The cabin teetering around him somehow made things even worse.

"Honey, I don't think it's just a little," your concern was peaked, and a hand was hovering over his arm, "You look like you're about to throw up or pass out, so how about we get you some club soda and you can rest, okay? If you want to, you can even-"

Joe was turned completely away from you, and had suddenly lurched forward to vomit into the sick bag you'd given him earlier. You knew that any hope of him holding back his condition was impossible now.

You'd initially flinched at his retching; cringing and holding your breath. Only a second passed until you remembered your duty; you were the only friend nearby.

"Uh oh-" sympathetically, you sighed and reached out to him, your hands holding his hair back, "That's not good..."

***

"I feel so humiliated... I was just- so deathly sick! I threw up twice, Sav- twice! And she was right next to me! I feel awful that she had to put up with it...! I feel like that's on me. She probably thinks I'm disgusting; she probably sees me as this huge fucking pansy who can't keep his lunch down while flying..."

"Mate, getting sick on flights isn't a personality trait, and I'm pretty sure Y/N knows that, too."

Joe, who was laying down again, scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"...I think this situation isn't all that bad, really," Sav shrugged, his voice going up in pitch to take on a suggestive tone.

"What on earth makes you say that?"

"It's quite obvious! I just think you were-" he adopted Joe's voice and air quotes, "-'so deathly sick' that you didn't even realize exactly what was happening...!"

"Really? How so?"

"Oh, don't even get me started, Joe."

*** Joe was laying against you now, exhausted from the physical labor forced on his stomach and throat. He was still pale and shivering, but finally willing to accept your advice and remedies. You'd ordered him some club soda (and some mints from your purse), and suggested he take a rest.

This left you where you were now. He had a hand on his stomach, and another one under your hand to calm him.

To say the least, it felt like having a nice, heavy blanket partially draped on you. You couldn't help but think it was at least a little funny. To most people, they'd be absolutely repulsed by a man with a weak stomach sleeping on them during a flight. You couldn't blame them, as Joe could still hurl at any given moment. However, the instinct to care for him overpowered any repulsion you may have had. To you, Joe was like a sick puppy, and you were the one who found him first. You knew he needed you in that moment, and you were okay with it. It was a nice feeling, to say the least.

Joe moved his head against you in his weary and mostly-asleep state of consciousness. A soft grumble vibrated from his sore throat.

Amid those circumstances that would normally gross you out, you managed to smile at him. That, and you gently squeezed his hand to reassure him that he was safe.

That pale, clammy version of the singer you were trapped with wasn't the form of himself he put on display to just anyone. This was a whole new side of him that you knew he never intended you to see; he was helpless. Joe had given in and finally let himself be helpless around you. You found it was rather sweet, and even somehow softening your heart.

It almost felt like a strange honor that not many people had the privilege of possessing, given that Joe tried so hard to hide it from you.

Him desperately vying to avoid your concern was typical for any one of the guys. Naturally, none of them wanted to appear vulnerable around you, but Joe seemed so hell-bent on keeping up his charade of feeling fine. You wondered what reasons he had for his strict act. Perhaps it was the intimate public setting that drove him to conceal his motion sickness at all costs. Maybe it was in order to save himself from certain embarrassment; you really didn't know.

Whatever reason he had, it didn't dwell in your mind for long. All you knew was that even with a half-dead, cold-sweated Joe on your shoulder, your heart was fluttering in a way that was even more inexplicable than his behavior.

*** "First of all," Sav held up a sassy finger at Joe, "She was the one who suggested she hold your hand, plus she held your hair back, plus she let you sleep on her shoulder and tried to make you feel better. Sounds rather tender, if you ask me. Tenderly intimate."

"I'll tell you what was 'intimate'-" Joe's grumpiness was still prominent, "-her watchin' me regurgitate my fuckin guts from 10 inches away!"

"But those were all girlfriend duties!" Sav bounced in his seat, trying to get the point across.

Joe finally fell silent. He sat up, and Sav could see the blush in his cheeks.

"...girlfriend duties?" he nearly whispered to the bassist.

"I'm right and you know it. Tell me those weren't girlfriend-ly actions! She got affectionate with you!"

Joe let his sight fall, then rise back up after a brief moment of pondering.

"She did, didn't she..."

"She definitely did."

Sav was smirking at him now.

Joe asked him again, "You really think she did...?"

"There's not a doubt in my mind."

"Oh-" Joe made a swatting motion and shook his head. He looked diagonally down at the floor, "She probably would've been affectionate to any one of us in that situation..."

Sav laughed out loud at his friend's comment. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was back at home, gossiping in Joe's childhood bedroom during a sleepover.

"Mate, when I had food poisoning last month, she didn't wanna get near me! But today, she was touchin' you and strokin' you and whatnot! Now that I mention it, I saw her smile while you were sleeping and holding her hand! Believe me, she wanted to help you. It was like she had an excuse to get close to you, just like you saw the flight as an excuse to get close to her."

Resting his case, Sav crossed his arms, tongue in his cheek.

They both remained quiet while Joe sat in thought. The pieces slowly began to fit together in his head, forming a train of thought he could somewhat follow.

"Suppose you are right; what do you suppose I do about it now?"

Sav could tell his argument was a success. His work there was done.

"That's entirely up to you."

*** You hadn't been awake that long, and were still pretty groggy when dawn began to break the next day. The unfortunate sensation of jet lag was beginning to catch up with you at that time, too. It didn't matter, because it was all part of the business. Your day would begin soon enough, jet lag or not.

After rubbing your eyes and throwing on your robe, you drew back the curtains and peered out at the misty morning. Thinking the hypnotic trance might wake you up more, you began to stare. Just as quickly, your eyes began to flutter shut again. Right before they did, however, there came a gentle knock at your door.

Blinking yourself back awake, you brought yourself to answer the call.

Initially, you found no one outside your room via the door's peephole. However, when you opened the door to search for anyone nearby, there came an unexpected surprise.

Rather than a person standing before you, a colorful bouquet of flowers lay on your doorstep. Of course, it was strange, but it also left you quickly growing bashful. You just hoped it wasn't one of your guy friends playing an early morning joke on you. Even so, your mind would be too cloudy to process that.

Looking around with sleepy confusion and flattery, you crouched down and picked up the bright bundle. You shuffled your fingers through the top of the arrangement to try and find a label or card that would give away the sender's identity. Eventually, you found the exact clue you were looking for; in the form of a small note.

The fresh, awakening scent of the blossoms wafted around you as you made out the handwriting.

"I'm so sorry I almost threw up on you on the plane! 🙁 -Joe"

It couldn't have been any more straightforward if it'd been put up on a neon sign. You chuckled out loud in the empty hallway and peered around to find a trace of the man in question.

Instantly, you found his eyes peeking from around the corner a few yards away. A guilty smile on his lips made him look so shy- in contrast to his average demeanor.

"This was really unnecessary, you know," the bundle was waved teasingly at him.

"I felt it was necessary," Joe's body slowly appeared more from behind the corner, "Considering you had no choice but to put up with disgusting ol' me."

Leaning on your door's frame, your eyes followed him while he strolled forward and leaned his shoulder on the wall in front of you. You both wore humorous smiles aimed at each other. If you could think any more clearly, you'd recognize this as flirting. Maybe it was- but it seemed oddly natural in that moment.

"Despite what you may think," your eyebrows lifted as you raised the bouquet up to your chin, "You weren't as gross as you expect. That, and you weren't any trouble."

"I just feel icky about the whole thing," he scrunched up his face and shrugged in disgust, "I promise it won't happen again- if I'm seated next to you."

"Don't worry about it, Joe. You just had a bad flight; everyone's got them from time to time."

"Not you, apparently."

Joe's smile turned rather bashful when he diverted his eye contact elsewhere. He silently chuckled with a hint of embarrassment. When you'd reassured him, he all of a sudden realized what Sav was trying to make him see. There was something in your eyes and your smile and your voice that just spoke to Joe; something that hit him and made him realize you wanted to be in the position you were in the day before.

You wanted to be affectionate with him.

Out of his daze, Joe spoke up after a brief hesitation, "So- um, I know it's early... but it's the perfect time for breakfast, so would you wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?"

"You mean with disgusting ol' you?"

"Don't worry-" his face almost went red at the cheeks, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth, "You don't have to think about me keeping it down this time."

Your arm holding the flowers dropped down to your side as you broke up into giggles.

"I'm not worried- in fact, I'd love to go."

You couldn't be certain, but you swore you saw Joe's face actually go red that time.

"Cool! Cool. Did you wanna get dressed or-?"

"Well, you don't seem to be dressed either, so why should I?" you reached back into your room to place the bouquet inside. When you shut the door, you joined the singer, "Let's hit it before Mike and Mal take all the good pastries."

Joe showed his teeth in his grin when you came to his side and began walking.

"If they're all taken, I'll steal one for you- considering I owe you a favor after what you did for me yesterday."

"What did I do?"

The answer was simple, but Joe didn't know how to say it without implying his feelings for you.

"You nursed me back to heath- or at least tried to..."

"I told you not to worry about it..."

"Alright, alright, I'll try not to."

"I'll tell you something, Elliott," you giggled as you both got inside the lift, "You've got a strange way of flirting."

Heat rushed to Joe's cheeks, and more threatened to join them at the thought of you noticing.

"Oh yeah?" he laughed.

"You hope I won't notice every tiny effort, yet you keep doing tiny things to make me notice. Even if we're, for example- up in the air..."

"Oh, god..." just like that, Joe thought he'd be the first person on earth to die of embarrassment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fuck- please don't tell me I was that obvious..."

"Calm down, don't make yourself sick again," you laughed and patted his back, "If it makes you feel any better... I did notice what you were trying to do on the flight. And- um... it worked. So..."

You stood on your toes, and lightly planted a kiss on his cheek, "Let's just say- you don't have to be sick if you want to hold my hand next time."

Joe's hand lowered from his face, and he quickly flashed a bashful glance at you before darting his eyes away.

The elevator doors opened, the smell of coffee seeping everywhere. Instead of walking out, Joe reached out to you.

"You said I didn't have to be sick next time, and I'm quite well now..."

A bashful smile of your own made an appearance as you took his hand like you did the previous day. When you did, Joe giggled to himself.

You glanced over, "What?"

With a pause, Joe rolled in his lips, then looked right at you, "Oh nothing. Just- if you get sick on the next flight, I guess we'll be even, then."

"So, you're gonna sit with me on the next flight, then?" you raised an eyebrow.

"If it means getting even with you, then yes."

"And if it doesn't mean getting even with me?"

"Well," Joe said, smiling widely, "Then the answer is still yes."

That answer was more than enough for you.

Strolling out together, hand-in-hand, you and Joe made your way towards the breakfast counter. In the corner of your vision, you noticed him snagging a pastry off of Mike and Mal's table when he passed by.

The end

[inkmemes]

amazon  prime’s  the  boys  sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  seasons  1  &  2.  contains  non-contextual  mild  s2  spoilers.  some  have  been  slightly  altered  to  better  fit  out  of  context.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“i'm supposed to be this hero, but i don't know what the hell i'm doing.”

“just remember who your friends and who your enemies are.”

"you can't do this. you don't have the fight, you never have.”

"my superpower is reading people. watching them when they think they're alone. i see people for who they really are.”

“why have average when you can have extraordinary?”

“if i'm gonna make a difference, i just feel more comfortable doing it on a smaller scale.”

"i know a little about a lot of things.” 

“never let them see you like this.”

"just 'cause you fall on your ass doesn't mean you have to stay there.”

"since when did "hopeful" and "naive" become the same thing?”

“you need to unclench your asshole.”

"i can do whatever the fuck i want.”

"pardon my french: fuck those fuckers.” 

"you tell anyone what you saw or heard here today, and i’ll cut your hands off and shove them so far up your ass, your fingers’ll give us a little wave out your throat, yeah?”

“when they’re apart, they’re absolute fucking rubbish. but, you put them together, they’re the goddamn fucking spice girls.”

“sometimes you get further with people by treating them like people.”

“i really did want to make a difference. i really did care. i was just like you.”

“i started giving pieces of myself away and i guess i gave away everything.”

“you see, i know your secret.”

“you’re not a bad person. just a scared one.”

“what have you got to lose that you ain’t already lost?”

“i figured if you wait around long enough, two plus two equals nasty.”

“here’s the truth. anyone who tells you they know the answers is lying.”

“you know, i managed to go my whole life without seeing someone die horribly, and now i’m up to about a half dozen, so i think i’m good.”

“we’ll cross that bridge when we burn it.”

“in a partnership, there is give and there is take.”

“i should’ve done a lot more stuff. because there is nothing up there. there’s nobody in the sky watching over us. not anybody. it’s all just lies.”

“i don’t know if they really want you to be a hero. i think they just want you to look like one.”

“he is too much of an asshole to die.”

“fuck this world for confusing nice with good. be a bitch if you want. be whatever. just drop the mask once in a while. feels good. you can finally breathe.”

“[name], how is it possible that you’re dumber than you look?”

“[name], you've done a murder. comparatively speaking, this will be a piece of cake.”

“we didn't bring him here for a fucking happy meal.”

“i've got my phone linked to the ‘find your shithead friends’ app.”

“i just had to pop down to the shop. i was running a bit low on ‘mind your own fucking business’.”

“you know something? on my first day, I, uh … well, i felt like a fraud. but the good news is, everybody feels that way.”

“you ever touch me again, i will burn your eyes out. understand me?”

“wou know how you have this… image of yourself? like, i thought i was strong. you know? like, made of steel. a fighter.”

“uf you’re the fucking reason i can’t finish that vermont country dollhouse, i will fucking end you.”

“you are dispensable, which means you answer to me.”

“you’ve been walking around for months like you want to kick my ass. so do it already.”

“i can be that person that nobody thinks is awesome, but it turns out, they’re kind of fucking awesome.”

“i’m sorry but we’re not anything.”

“my nana’s your biggest fan.”

“not even [name] would have dared to try and pull this kind of shit.”

“shouldn’t we all just be competent at our jobs?”

“we can do whatever we want and no one can stop us. that is a good feeling. a really good feeling.”

“you need to get the fuck out of my house.”

“you were right. i’m not gonna get bored and move on. i’m not going anywhere.”

“life isn’t actually a pr strategy. you can say what you think.”

“pippi longstocking would bite a d, that’s for damn sure.”

“you write all women as either unknowable hitchcock bitches or michael bay fuck dolls. i mean, i get that a lifetime of jerking off to transformers didn’t exactly make you popular with the ladies, but a little effort would be nice.”

“i don’t think we have to damage control your fuck up.”

“look at you. my girl.”

“nobody likes almond joy. -- jeffrey dahmer. that's it. he's the only one.”

“jesus christ! those are like the three worst candy bars in the history of candy. that's it, you're sick in the brain.”

“i’m wanted and you’re kind of super famous.”

“he’s an actor who didn’t lie to my face everyday.”

“don’t lie to me, not again.”

“she was already dead when i blew her up.

“my son is the furthest fucking thing on this planet to a normal little boy.”

“this is a moment. girls get it done.”

“there is just no putting the toothpaste back in the tube.”

“mom says being lonely makes you know yourself better.”

“i just want you to think about me when you are getting your skin peeled off your face, bitch.”

“you don’t fuck with the money. you never fuck with the money.”

“you’re my second wind.”

“it doesn’t matter who made us, or how we got here, the point is we are here. together. family. you guys, you are my real family.”

“oh, is it so hard to believe that i want you two to be happy? and in love? honestly [name], i am really, really happy for you.”

“the hate that you carry and the warpath that you’re on, it started so long before me.”

“we can’t afford to feel good or to feel safe or to let our guard down.”

“we’re all alone. that’s the truth.”

“i don’t need anyone but myself.”

“you’re so special, that most special man on the planet. everybody loves you. everybody. their love is your strength.”

“where's the closest atm?”

“you let your canary die, how you gonna know when you've gone too far?”

“you know what i thought? i thought who fucking cares?”

“fuckin’ diabolical.”

“i'm a motherfucker with a heart.”