#incorrect 7 o’clock

[bokutoko]

hi abs my darling, this is a lovely flower shop you have here! i was wondering if i could send a mini bouquet of tulips, carnations, and sweet pea! i would love if you could send them to oikawa with love from bug <3

-love bug <3 🍪

quarter after one

t. oikawa x f!reader

wc: 1252

cw: hurt/comfort, second chance romance, studying for exams, brother’s best friend (iwaizumi is reader’s brother), uni!au

you were sure your organic chemistry final was going to kill you.

and if the exam didn’t, being in an assigned study group with your ex-boyfriend would.

the december air was painfully bitter, cutting through your coat as you walked to the 24/7 floor of the campus library.

“do you want me to be there?” iwaizumi’s voice rang through your headphones, “just to be a buffer?”

a sigh escaped you as you muttered a “no.” the library building was one of the dingier buildings on campus, with the smell of old books and mildew overwhelming your senses as soon as you walked in. “that’d just make it more awkward since you’re friends.”

your brother, always so protective, was silent on the other line, trying to find the right words to say. “okay, well if you need anything, call me, okay? i know he’s my best friend, but i’ll still beat his ass.”

“i know you would,” you laughed, hanging up as you approached the arranged study room. the moment you’d been dreading was finally here. everyone was already inside, studying their respective “problem chapters” before coming together to do a big review. slipping in, you sat by one of your classmate acquaintances, starting your work as everyone chattered quietly to each other—very little of which was about chem.

remaining so engrossed in your work, you hardly noticed oikawa’s stolen glances in your direction. you only noticed when he slid a drink to you from his bag—he’d bought everyone drinks. it just so happened that he remembered to buy you your favorite.

in his eyes, you looked as beautiful as always, studying so diligently. he remembered how your brows furrowed a little when you concentrated, his gaze adopting almost a yearning expression as he saw that this time was no different.

when it came time for everyone to work through problems together, you were happy to help out and point out something, until—

someone interrupted you.

smiling, albeit awkwardly, you sat back and let them say what they needed to say. they were incorrect.

so you spoke up again, trying to explain where they went wrong—

and then someone else talked over you.

every time you tried to talk, to explain, to help, another student would ignore you and try (and fail) to solve the problem themselves. the air in the room suddenly felt hot, prickling your skin—or maybe it was just you.

feeling invisible, and being treated as such, made your eye twitch and blood begin to slowly come to a boil. your vision clouded red, ready to blow up, but before you could say anything—

oikawa gently said your name paired with “what were you saying? i think they interrupted you.”

your eyes shot toward him, and everyone quieted down to hear you, though too proud to mutter any apologies.

oikawa had always been the one to see you.

talking a deep breath, you knew you needed to calm down. “i was… just trying to tell you that since you’re in acidic conditions, it’s going to favor protonation first,” you said with a shrug, “he talked about it last week. that’s the reason it’s not working, because you’re acting like everything is in basic conditions.”

out of the corner of your eye, you noticed oikawa’s subtle smile as everyone began muttering “ohhhh…” you felt a little proud to be the reason someone understood something, then continued working to finish the practice problem.

throughout the night, oikawa would be the one to make sure your voice was heard when going over more problems. you wanted to be annoyed, but it was nice to be seen.

not by him. no no, definitely not by him… by the group! just the group.

finally, it struck one o’clock, and the number of students was slowly decreasing as they left for home. you stayed, needing a little bit longer to go through some practice exams, when you noticed someone else stayed as well.

for fuck’s sake…

quietly, you kept to yourself and kept working on your exams, hoping oikawa wouldn’t say anything to you. but of course…

“can you walk me through question 4 on the practice exam?” his voice was soft, his eyes laced with exhaustion. very unlike him.

a part of you actually pitied him. “sure.”

walking him through the problem, you scooted your chair next to him and caught a whiff of his cologne, that familiar sea breeze scent making you feel slightly dizzy. in a good way, frustratingly so.

as you finish, you look up at him and meet his eyes—oh his beautiful brown eyes. the two of you are frozen, just staring at the other as your arms barely touched.

for a moment, you thought he would kiss you. and it aggravated you over how much that made your heart flutter. the two of you ended things to focus on your respective studies, though he was the one to initiate it.

you cleared your throat and continued explaining the problem, ensuring no eye contact.

“look at me.”

that soft, sweet tone of his voice made you want to cave, to give in to temptation.

“no.”

oikawa’s finger gently hooked beneath your chin and angled your face up to match his gaze. “don’t do this,” he whispered.

oh, that was when you snapped. “me?” you stood up, your chair scratching on the ground as it pushed out. “you don’t want me to do what? to have a normal reaction around my ex? to not want to be around you? is that so bad of me?!”

he huffed. “i know we ended things to focus on school, but i just miss you, okay? i’m allowed to miss the one i—”

the air suddenly went still, the two of you frozen in place once more. you didn’t want him to finish that sentence, but it was like a train wreck. you couldn’t stop.

“the one you…?”

he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “don’t make me say it.”

“say it, tooru.”

and god, his heart melted in his chest when he heard you call him by his given name. ‘tooru’ sounded like the sweetest honey from your lips.

“the one i love.” you stood there in silence, just staring at him as he continued, “the one i want to hold, to kiss, to cheer on when you do well, to comfort you when you are upset. is that so wrong of me?!”

he stepped an inch closer, silently begging you to not pull away. you didn’t.

“i fucked up,” he whispered, “and that’s fully on me.”

all you could do was stare at him, your face undoubtedly betraying your inner turmoil as you whispered, “it is.”

another step closer, and you didn’t move. “being apart from you was like losing a part of myself. please, can we just at least try being friends again? and maybe, just maybe, we can see where it leads?”

you took a look at the time—it was a quarter after one. your final was in less than eight hours.

“let’s finish up this practice exam, and we’ll talk after the final,” you said gently. his gaze was so sweet, so understanding, as he nodded with a quiet ‘ok.’

so the two of you studied for about half an hour longer, going through old exams as you both caught soft brushes of the other’s hand against your own. it was shy, it was gentle.

hopefully, it was the start of something new.

something that would last a lifetime.

a/n: hi bug <33 this is my “how can i make this about organic chemistry” request MUCH LOVE FOR YOU

want to see more by me in this event? here's my masterlist 🌷

main masterlist

my obligatory oikawa truther tag: @deadwtr

please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2025.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Incorrect Quote Tag!

I wanted to do this tag again so here we go! Going with some characters from Supernova Initiative and Scrapyard Boys for this one <3

I had a lot of fun with this lol, enjoy! (:

The Generator

SCRAPYARD BOYS

Quince: What do you want for breakfast? Josh: I WISH TO DEVOUR THE UNBORN. Quince: (Visible Concern) Erin: (Done with Life) ... Erin: He wants eggs.

Rhys: Quince! Help! I’m bleeding… Quince: Oh god… what’s your blood type?! Rhys: B positive… Quince: (holding back laughter) I’m trying to but you’re bleeding-

Adrien: Well, I'm very sorry to hear about your mother. Max: Eh, we aren't really that close. Adrien: Oh, good then. 'Cause she's a bitch.

Any authority figure: Could you be anymore annoying? Valen: Yes.

*Adrien and Rhys are texting* Adrien: Who are you? I think Gwyn changed the names in my phone. Rhys: What did they change my name to? Adrien: Chosen One. Rhys: Don’t change it back. Adrien: BUT WHO ARE YOU?!?! Rhys: I’m the chosen one. Adrien:... YOU SON OF A BITCH! IT WAS YOU?!!! Rhys: Smugly leaves that message On Read

Damon: You’re insane! Josh: I know I am, what’s your point?

Josh: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?Erin: ... Erin: Why are you eating dirt? Josh: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

Kay, after getting a library card: Now I know what true power feels like.

Gwyn: What’s it like being tall? Rhys: Is it nice? Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards? Adrien: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Thomas: Damon, I swear I didn’t know Emily was coming over. I always ominously clean my weapons on the coffee table like that. It had nothing to do with that!

Luke: You read my diary? Valen: Look, at first I didn't know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

Josh: I'm not funny, I'm just really mean and people think I'm joking.

Gwyn: Why should I make my bed, when I'm just gonna unmake it to sleep in it anyways? Adrien: Why should I feed you if your just gonna die anyways? Gwyn: Gwyn: I'll go make my bed-

Valen: My bad, It’s a knee jerk response. Damon, holding Thomas's unconscious body: WHOSE KNEE JERK RESPONSE IS TO START THROWING BRICKS AT SOMEONE???

Max: What state do you live in? Quince: I live in a state of constant anxiety.

SUPERNOVA INITIATIVE

Artemis: Everyone thinks you suck. Deimos: I think you have the wrong number… Artemis: Kye? Deimos: Nope. I'm Deimos Artemis: Well, you probably suck too…

Meridian, carrying a box: What would you say if- if I, hypothetically, came home with 7 kittens one day? Jack: … Jack: What’s in the box? Meridian: What woul- Jack: (sighs) Meridian, what’s in the box? Meridian: I think you know.

Cassie (in Act 1-2): Hey, are you alright with swearing? Asking for a friend. Deimos: ...Yeah? Cassie: Bitch. Jack, stuck in the middle of this situation:... I hate my life

Vesper: Murder literally doesn’t hurt anyone! Jack: What are you talking about? Of course— Kye, holding out a hand to shut Jack up: No, no, wait. She has a point—

Noctus: Meridian is late again. Cassie: How did this happen? I called them at 8 o’clock this morning and pretended it was 11. Aleks: I printed up a fake schedule for them saying we were starting at 9 instead of noon. Vesper: I set their clock to say PM when it’s really AM. Jack: Oh boy. We may have overdone it. *Meridianbursts through the door, panicking* Meridian: WHAT TIME IS IT?

Jack: (hesitant) Have I ever told you that you cook well? Cassie: Awww, no, you haven't! Jack: (nearly in exasperated tears) So why do you keep cooking?

*Artemis and Kye are fighting* Gabi, taking aspirin: I have a headache! Can you guys just be cool?! *Artemis and Kye keep fighting, now while wearing sunglasses and riding skateboards*

Elysia: What’s your biggest fear? Jack: I am incredibly arachnophobic. Elysia, under her breath (confused, never heard that word in her life): You don’t want spiders to get married?

Lyorna, singing, unaware there's anyone nearby: I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need— Kye: An actual family. Vesper: A better love life. Jack: Mental stability. Meridian: *clueless* Bagels?

Aleks: I may be stupid. The Squad: ... Aleks: Oh, did you think I was going to finish that sentence?

Jack: Why were you up yesterday until 3am? Cassie: How did you know I was up until 3am? Deimos (walking in with an absolutely exhausted face and two cups of coffee): Because we all could hear you clapping to that sitcom intro every 25 minutes.

Vesper: Do you want to be the Sun in my life? Deimos: Yes. Vesper: Good, then stay 92,935,700 miles away from me :)

Aleks: That sounds super! Doesn’t that sound super, Noctus? Noctus: No. Aleks: I think I speak for Noctus when I say it sounds really super.

Jack: Yesterday, I overheard Meridian saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and Cassie replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

Kye: Two truths and a lie, I’ll start! Kye: I’ve killed people, I will kill again, and I hear screams when I'm alone or sleeping. Meridian, visibly nervous: I don’t- I don’t know if I like this game.

Jack: *points at Tarah* A human turtleneck, *points at Kye* a narcissistic monster, *points at Aleks* and literally the dumbest person I’ve ever met. Aleks: And who am I? Describe me now.

*The gang's thoughts on stabbing* Meridian (mortified): Would never stab anyone. Deimos: Would stab someone in retaliation. Cassie: Yells "I won't hesitate, bitch!" first. Kye: Would stab without warning. Vesper: Would stab as a warning.

Jack: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine. Lyorna: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again. Jack: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to charm me into healthy sleeping patterns?? Lyorna: Is it working?

Kye: I'm feeling it! What am I feeling? Death, probably.

Gabi: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. Elysia: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to her knees and sob while apologizing profusely* Gabi: That one. I want that one.

Tagging (gently): @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab, @winterandwords, @eccaiia,

@the-letterbox-archives, @illarian-rambling@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart,

@little-peril-stories, @thecomfywriter

@ray-writes-n-shit @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess,

@forthesanityofstorytellers, @finickyfelix @i-can-even-burn-salad

@cauliflowermaterial @thepeculiarbird,

@clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes,

@starlit-hopes-and-dreams @differentnighttale

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

[bookofmirth]

Azriel found himself at the library at 7 o’clock. Sarah is Jewish and the number seven means completeness, fullness, the center point which unifies all of nature and the covenant of holiness and sanctification. I read that seven happens to be Judaism’s most sacred number (I could be incorrect though so please correct me if I’m wrong!) and many spiritual gates become unlocked. I saw someone say 7 is the length of time for a natural cycle to transpire, often ending with holiness/sanctification of some sort, the pattern set by creation. Seven days for an impure person to go achieve purity and parenthetically, this leads to the number 8 being associated with new beginnings, after having finished the cycle of seven: circumcision, becoming pure after the seven days of the purity cycle, beginning of a new week. It seems like the number seven is important in her series. Seven High Lords, and originally seven Asteri before Sirius was killed. I don’t think it’s a coincidence Azriel went to the library to give Gwyn that necklace at 7 o’clock. If I said anything wrong please inform me!

She does take from different faiths and cultures pretty liberally, and so I wouldn't be surprised if she's intentionally using that number! It's one of those things where maybe sjm thought "heh, neat" and used 7 o'clock, or it could be one of those things where she's twirling her imaginary writer's mustache and wondering if anyone will understand. I don't know enough about Judaism (read: I know almost nothing) to understand the importance of that number but I am pretty sure that she studied theology in college.

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How to Spot Fake Oyster Perpetual Rolex: A Comprehensive Guide

The Rolex Oyster Perpetual is one of the most iconic luxury watches in the world, known for its timeless design and exceptional craftsmanship. However, the popularity of this esteemed timepiece has also led to a surge in counterfeits. In this guide, we will explore how to spot a fake Oyster Perpetual Rolex, ensuring you invest in a genuine piece of horological art.

1. Understanding the Rolex Oyster Perpetual

The Rolex Oyster Perpetual is renowned for its precision, durability, and elegant style. It features a self-winding mechanism, water resistance, and a robust stainless steel case. Because of its reputation, a fake Oyster Perpetual can be difficult to identify without careful inspection.

2. Check the Weight

One of the first indicators of a fake Oyster Perpetual Rolex is its weight. Genuine Rolex watches are crafted from high-quality materials, making them heavier than most fakes. If the watch feels unusually light, it’s likely a counterfeit.

3. Examine the Dial

The dial of a real Rolex Oyster Perpetual is one of the most detailed aspects of the watch. Pay attention to the following:

Logo and Text: The Rolex crown logo should be crisp and well-defined. Additionally, the text should be perfectly aligned and free of any spelling errors.

Magnification: The date window on a genuine Rolex features a cyclops lens that magnifies the date by 2.5 times. If the date is hard to read, it may be a fake.

Markers and Hands: The hour markers and hands should be polished and precise. Any signs of misalignment or poor craftsmanship are red flags.

4. Analyze the Movement

The movement of a Rolex is a marvel of engineering. Genuine Rolex watches use an automatic movement that is smooth and consistent. If you hear ticking sounds or notice irregular movement, you may be looking at a fake.

5. Inspect the Case Back

Rolex Oyster Perpetual watches typically have a smooth case back with no engravings. If you find a clear case back or engravings, it’s a sign of a counterfeit. Some fakes might try to imitate the style but will often fall short in quality.

6. Look for the Serial and Model Numbers

Every genuine Rolex has a unique serial and model number engraved between the lugs at the 6 and 12 o’clock positions. Check for clarity and depth; fakes often have shallow engravings or incorrect numbers.

7. Review the Bracelet and Clasp

The bracelet of a genuine Rolex Oyster Perpetual is made of high-quality stainless steel and features a robust clasp. Look for:

Weight: Genuine bracelets are sturdy and heavy.

Engravings: The clasp should feature the Rolex crown logo and model number. Any inconsistencies can indicate a fake.

8. Check the Price

If the price seems too good to be true, it probably is. Genuine Rolex watches retain their value, and a significantly discounted price should raise suspicion. Always buy from reputable sources.

9. Purchase from Trusted Dealers

To ensure you are buying a genuine Rolex Oyster Perpetual, consider purchasing from established and reputable dealers. One such option is Luxe Replica Watche, where you can find a selection of fine timepieces, including replicas that offer great value while avoiding the pitfalls of counterfeit products.

10. Obtain Certification

Always ask for the original box, papers, and certification when purchasing a Rolex. Authentic dealers provide this documentation, which confirms the watch’s authenticity.

Conclusion

Investing in a Rolex Oyster Perpetual is a decision that requires careful consideration. By following the tips outlined in this guide, you can confidently identify fake watches and ensure that your investment is genuine. For those looking for reputable alternatives, check out Luxe Replica Watche for quality replica watches that resemble the grandeur of the originals without the hefty price tag.

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How to Spot a Fake Rolex Submariner Black: A Comprehensive Guide

The Rolex Submariner is one of the most iconic luxury watches in the world, known for its timeless design and exceptional functionality. However, along with its popularity comes the risk of counterfeit watches flooding the market. If you're considering purchasing a Rolex Submariner Black, it's crucial to know how to distinguish a genuine watch from a fake one. In this guide, we'll explore various telltale signs that can help you identify a counterfeit Rolex Submariner and ensure that you make a wise investment.

1. Examine the Weight

One of the first indicators of a genuine Rolex Submariner is its weight. Authentic Rolex watches are made from high-quality materials, including stainless steel and gold, making them significantly heavier than many counterfeit models. If the watch feels too light, it could be a fake. When you hold a genuine Rolex Submariner, you should feel its substantial weight in your hand.

2. Check the Case Back

Rolex watches, including the Submariner, typically have a smooth case back without engravings. If you see a transparent case back or any engravings, it's a strong indicator that the watch is not authentic. Rolex maintains a strict policy of not displaying the movement through a glass back, as many other brands do.

3. Inspect the Cyclops Lens

The Cyclops lens is a feature found on the date function of Rolex watches, magnifying the date display by 2.5 times. A common flaw in counterfeit watches is the incorrect magnification. If the date appears smaller than it should, or if the Cyclops lens is misaligned, it’s likely a fake. Additionally, the Cyclops lens should sit perfectly over the date; any misalignment is a telltale sign of a counterfeit.

4. Look at the Movement

Rolex watches are renowned for their exceptional movements. If you listen closely, you’ll notice that a genuine Rolex has a smooth ticking sound, unlike the ticking of a typical quartz watch. Many counterfeit watches use quartz movements, which create a distinct ticking sound. If you can, open the case back or have a professional watchmaker examine the movement to verify its authenticity.

5. Analyze the Dial and Markings

The dial of a Rolex Submariner is intricately designed and displays a level of craftsmanship that counterfeit watches often fail to replicate. Look for crisp and clean lettering on the dial. On the genuine watch, the logo and markings should be flawless, with no signs of smudging or misalignment. The hour markers should also be evenly spaced and perfectly aligned.

6. Examine the Bracelet and Clasp

The bracelet of a genuine Rolex Submariner is made from high-quality metal and features a solid feel. The links should be tightly fitted, without gaps or excessive movement. Additionally, the clasp should operate smoothly and securely. Check for the Rolex crown logo on the clasp; an engraved logo is a sign of authenticity. Counterfeit watches often use cheap materials that can feel flimsy and rickety.

7. Research the Serial and Model Numbers

Every Rolex watch has a unique serial and model number engraved between the lugs at the 6 o’clock position. You can use these numbers to verify the watch's authenticity through Rolex’s service centers or databases. Ensure that the numbers match the watch’s model and that the engraving is deep and clear. Counterfeit models often have poorly executed engravings that can be difficult to read.

8. Buy from Reputable Sources

One of the safest ways to ensure you're purchasing a genuine Rolex Submariner Black is to buy from reputable dealers or official retailers. At Luxe Replica Watche, we pride ourselves on offering a curated selection of high-quality replica watches that mimic the elegance and style of authentic luxury timepieces. While we specialize in replicas, we encourage our customers to always be cautious and informed when purchasing luxury watches.

Conclusion

Spotting a fake Rolex Submariner Black requires careful attention to detail and knowledge about what makes these timepieces unique. By following the tips outlined in this article, you can significantly reduce the risk of purchasing a counterfeit watch. Remember, investing in a luxury watch should bring you joy and satisfaction, so always prioritize authenticity. For those interested in high-quality replicas, visit Luxe Replica Watche for a selection that mirrors the elegance of genuine luxury watches.

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How to Spot a Fake Rolex Explorer 2: A Comprehensive Guide

The Rolex Explorer 2 is a coveted timepiece, known for its rugged durability and elegant design. Unfortunately, the demand for this iconic watch has led to a surge in counterfeit models. If you’re considering purchasing a Rolex Explorer 2, it’s essential to know how to spot a fake. In this article, we’ll guide you through the key features and characteristics that distinguish a genuine Rolex Explorer 2 from its counterfeit counterparts.

1. Check the Serial and Model Numbers

One of the first steps in verifying the authenticity of a Rolex Explorer 2 is to examine the serial and model numbers. Rolex watches have specific serial numbers located between the lugs on the 6 o’clock side and the model number on the 12 o’clock side. Make sure these numbers are clear, correctly formatted, and match the date of manufacture. Counterfeit watches often have poorly engraved or incorrect serial numbers.

2. Analyze the Weight

Rolex watches are known for their solid construction and high-quality materials, which give them a substantial weight. A genuine Rolex Explorer 2 typically weighs between 150 to 200 grams, depending on the model. If the watch feels unusually light, it may be a sign of a counterfeit. Fake models often use inferior materials that do not match the heft of authentic Rolex watches.

3. Inspect the Movement

The movement of a Rolex Explorer 2 is one of its most distinguishing features. The watch is powered by Rolex’s in-house automatic movement, known for its precision and reliability. If possible, have a professional watchmaker open the case back to inspect the movement. Counterfeit watches often use inexpensive, mass-produced movements that do not match the quality of Rolex’s movements.

4. Look at the Cyclops Lens

The Cyclops lens is the magnifying bubble over the date on the Rolex Explorer 2. On genuine models, this lens magnifies the date by 2.5 times, allowing for clear visibility. Many fakes fail to replicate this effect, resulting in a flat or poorly magnifying lens. Always check the Cyclops lens for clarity and magnification.

5. Examine the Dial and Hands

The dial of a Rolex Explorer 2 is meticulously crafted, with perfect alignment of the hour markers and hands. The hour markers should be luminescent and glow evenly in low light. Counterfeit dials may have misaligned markers, uneven lume, or incorrect fonts. Additionally, the hands should move smoothly and accurately without any ticking sound.

6. Assess the Bracelet and Clasp

The bracelet and clasp of a genuine Rolex Explorer 2 are made from high-quality materials, ensuring durability and comfort. The clasp should close securely, and the links should feel sturdy. Look for the Rolex crown logo etched into the clasp; this is often missing or poorly replicated in fake watches. Additionally, check for the \"Rolex\" engraving on the inner side of the clasp, which should be clean and precise.

7. Review the Packaging and Documentation

A genuine Rolex Explorer 2 comes with high-quality packaging that includes the original box, warranty card, and instruction manual. If the watch is sold with flimsy packaging or lacks essential documents, it’s likely a counterfeit. Always ensure that the documentation matches the watch’s serial and model numbers.

8. Purchase from Reputable Sources

When buying a Rolex Explorer 2, it’s crucial to purchase from reputable sources. At Luxe Replica Watche, we offer a wide selection of high-quality replica watches, including the Rolex Explorer 2. While we specialize in replicas, we ensure that our products are crafted with precision and attention to detail, making them ideal for collectors and enthusiasts alike.

Conclusion

Spotting a fake Rolex Explorer 2 requires careful attention to detail and an understanding of the watch's key features. By following the tips outlined in this guide, you can increase your chances of purchasing an authentic timepiece. Remember, if you’re in the market for a high-quality replica, Luxe Replica Watche is your go-to destination for exquisite craftsmanship and exceptional service.

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How to Determine if a Rolex is Fake: A Comprehensive Guide

Rolex watches are synonymous with luxury, precision, and status. However, the popularity of these timepieces has led to an increase in counterfeit models flooding the market. If you’re considering purchasing a Rolex, it’s crucial to know how to determine if it’s real or fake. In this article, we’ll provide you with essential tips and tricks to identify a genuine Rolex, ensuring that your investment is worthwhile.

1. Check the Weight of the Watch

One of the first things you should do when examining a Rolex is to check its weight. Authentic Rolex watches are made from high-quality metals, including gold and stainless steel, making them heavier than most counterfeit models. If the watch feels unusually light, it could be a sign that it’s a fake.

2. Examine the Movement

Rolex watches are known for their high-quality Swiss movements. If you can, open the case back and inspect the movement. Genuine Rolex movements are finely crafted and have a smooth, sweeping motion. If you notice ticking or choppy movements, it’s likely a counterfeit.

3. Look for the Cyclops Lens

Rolex watches feature a magnifying lens over the date, known as the Cyclops lens. This lens should magnify the date at 2.5 times its size. If the date appears small or is not magnified, it’s likely a fake. Additionally, check the quality of the lens; authentic Rolexes have a crystal that is scratch-resistant and very clear.

4. Analyze the Serial and Model Numbers

Every Rolex has a unique serial and model number engraved on the watch. These numbers are located between the lugs at the 6 o’clock position. Make sure the engraving is clean, well-defined, and not too shallow. You can also use these numbers to verify authenticity by comparing them against Rolex’s database.

5. Inspect the Dial and Logo

The Rolex logo is meticulously crafted and should be perfectly aligned. Check for any misspellings or irregularities in the font. The dial should also have a clean finish, with no smudges or imperfections. Counterfeit watches often have poorly made dials that can be spotted easily upon close inspection.

6. Look for the Gold Quality Mark

If you’re considering a gold Rolex, look for the quality mark. Genuine Rolex watches made from gold will have a stamp indicating the gold's purity (e.g., 18k). Counterfeit watches may lack this marking or have incorrect information.

7. Examine the Bracelet and Clasp

The bracelet and clasp of a Rolex should feel sturdy and well-made. Pay attention to the links; they should fit together seamlessly and feel solid. The clasp should also have the Rolex crown logo and be easy to open and close. Many fake Rolexes use low-quality materials that can easily be identified upon close inspection.

8. Listen to the Watch

When you shake a genuine Rolex, you should hear a soft and smooth ticking sound. If you hear a loud ticking noise or the sound seems off, it could be a counterfeit. This is due to the craftsmanship and quality of the internal movement in authentic Rolex watches.

9. Purchase from Reputable Sources

To avoid counterfeit Rolex watches, always purchase from reputable dealers. At Luxe Replica Watche, we prioritize quality and authenticity, providing an extensive selection of replica watches that resemble the original designs without compromising craftsmanship. Our commitment to excellence ensures that you receive a product that meets your expectations.

10. Seek Professional Appraisal

If you’re still uncertain about the authenticity of a Rolex, consider seeking a professional appraisal. Watchmakers and jewelers with Rolex expertise can provide you with a thorough examination and confirm whether your watch is genuine.

Conclusion

In conclusion, knowing how to determine if a Rolex is fake is essential for anyone looking to invest in these luxurious timepieces. By following the tips outlined in this guide, you can significantly reduce the risk of purchasing a counterfeit watch. Remember, if you're looking for high-quality replica watches, visit Luxe Replica Watche for an impressive collection that combines style and affordability.

[replicalamborghiniwatchess481d]

How to Detect a Fake Rolex Oyster Perpetual: A Comprehensive Guide

The Rolex Oyster Perpetual is one of the most sought-after luxury watches in the world. Its timeless design, unparalleled craftsmanship, and prestigious brand reputation make it a prized possession for many. Unfortunately, the allure of the Oyster Perpetual has also led to an influx of counterfeit versions in the market. Knowing how to detect a fake Rolex Oyster Perpetual is crucial for any potential buyer. In this article, we will guide you through the essential features to examine and help you make an informed purchase.

1. Examine the Weight

One of the first indicators of a fake Rolex is its weight. Authentic Rolex watches are made from high-quality materials, which gives them a substantial feel. If the watch feels light or flimsy, it’s likely a counterfeit. A genuine Rolex Oyster Perpetual typically weighs between 130-150 grams, depending on the model.

2. Check the Case Back

The case back of a Rolex Oyster Perpetual is another telltale sign of authenticity. Genuine Rolex watches have a smooth, featureless case back. If you see engravings or a transparent case back, it's a fake. Rolex does not engrave its logo or model number on the case back of the Oyster Perpetual.

3. Inspect the Dial

The dial of a genuine Rolex is meticulously crafted. Look for the following details:

Font and Spacing: The text on the dial should be perfectly aligned, and the font should be crisp and clear. Counterfeit watches often have uneven text or incorrect fonts.

Rolex Crown: The Rolex crown logo at 12 o’clock should be embossed and not printed.

Markers: The hour markers should be applied with precision. If they appear to be painted on or misaligned, it’s a fake.

4. Analyze the Movement

Rolex watches are known for their exceptional movements. If you can access the movement, look for the following:

Sweeping Second Hand: Genuine Rolex watches have a smooth, sweeping second hand that moves in a fluid motion. If you notice a ticking motion, it’s likely a counterfeit.

Engravings: The movement should have specific engravings, including the Rolex logo and model number. Check for quality and clarity in these engravings.

5. Verify the Serial and Model Numbers

Every Rolex has a unique serial number and model number. These can be found between the lugs at the 6 o'clock position and the 12 o'clock position. Ensure that:

The numbers are engraved, not printed.

They match the model and year of production.

6. Look for the Hologram Sticker

Older Rolex models often feature a hologram sticker on the case back. While newer models do not include this, if the watch you are examining does, check its quality. The hologram should display a three-dimensional effect and change when viewed from different angles. If the sticker appears flat or poorly made, it’s a fake.

7. Ask for Documentation and Box

A genuine Rolex Oyster Perpetual comes with official documentation and a quality box. The paperwork should include the warranty card, manuals, and an authenticity guarantee. Counterfeit watches often lack these items or come with poorly made replicas.

8. Purchase from Reputable Sellers

To ensure you are buying an authentic Rolex Oyster Perpetual, always purchase from reputable dealers. At Luxe Replica Watche, we offer a selection of luxury watch replicas that mimic the elegance of the originals without the hefty price tag. While we specialize in replicas, we encourage our customers to be cautious and educated when dealing with high-value items.

Conclusion

Detecting a fake Rolex Oyster Perpetual requires careful attention to detail and knowledge of the brand’s specific features. By following the guidelines outlined in this article, you can significantly reduce your chances of purchasing a counterfeit. Remember, if you’re ever in doubt, consult with a professional watchmaker or a trusted dealer.

At Luxe Replica Watche, we strive to provide our customers with high-quality alternatives to luxury watches. Explore our collection today to find the perfect timepiece that suits your style.

[replicahublotwatchz797p]

How to Tell if a Patek Philippe is Fake: A Comprehensive Guide

Patek Philippe is one of the most prestigious watch brands in the world, known for its exquisite craftsmanship and timeless designs. However, the brand's popularity has led to a proliferation of counterfeit watches in the market. For watch enthusiasts and collectors, it's essential to know how to identify a fake Patek Philippe. This guide will help you navigate the intricacies of authenticating a Patek Philippe timepiece.

1. Know the Brand

Before diving into the specifics of identifying a fake Patek Philippe, it’s crucial to understand the brand itself. Established in 1839, Patek Philippe is renowned for its intricate movements and high-quality materials. The brand’s watches often feature complex complications, making them highly sought after. Familiarize yourself with the characteristics of genuine models to distinguish them from replicas.

2. Examine the Craftsmanship

One of the most significant indicators of authenticity is the craftsmanship of the watch. A genuine Patek Philippe will exhibit meticulous attention to detail. Check for the following:

Weight: Authentic Patek Philippe watches are made from high-quality materials and have significant weight. A fake watch may feel lighter due to inferior materials.

Finish: Inspect the watch for polished surfaces and sharp edges. Counterfeit models often lack the smooth finish and precision found in genuine pieces.

Engravings: Look for clear and crisp engravings on the case back and clasp. Genuine Patek Philippe watches feature deep engravings that are not easily scratched.

3. Check the Movement

The movement of a Patek Philippe is a work of art in itself. The brand is known for its in-house movements that are finely crafted and beautifully decorated. If possible, open the case back and examine the movement:

Quality: Genuine movements are decorated with Geneva stripes, perlage, and other intricate finishing techniques. A fake watch may have a plain or poorly finished movement.

Movement Type: Most Patek Philippe watches use automatic movements, which should have a smooth sweeping second hand. Quartz movements are a red flag.

4. Look for the Serial and Reference Numbers

Every Patek Philippe watch has a unique serial number and reference number, typically engraved on the case back. Verify these numbers:

Location: The serial number is usually located between the lugs at the 6 o’clock position. The reference number can be found between the lugs at the 12 o’clock position.

Authenticity Check: Cross-reference these numbers with Patek Philippe’s database or consult with an authorized dealer to confirm authenticity.

5. Study the Dial and Hands

The dial is a crucial aspect of any watch and can reveal much about its authenticity. Here’s what to look for:

Logo: The Patek Philippe logo should be crisp and perfectly aligned. Any inconsistencies or blurriness can indicate a counterfeit.

Font: Pay attention to the font style used for numbers and text on the dial. Counterfeit watches often have incorrect font sizes or styles.

Hands: The hands on a genuine Patek Philippe will be finely crafted and proportionate to the dial. Fake watches may have poorly finished or disproportionate hands.

6. Authenticity Certificates and Packaging

When purchasing a Patek Philippe, always look for authenticity certificates and original packaging. Patek Philippe provides a certificate of origin with every watch, which includes details about the watch's specifications. Ensure that:

Documentation: The paperwork should be complete and match the watch in question.

Packaging: Genuine Patek Philippe watches come in high-quality boxes. Counterfeit boxes may be flimsy or poorly designed.

7. Purchase from Reputable Sources

To avoid buying a counterfeit, always purchase your Patek Philippe from reputable sources. Consider checking out Luxe Replica Watche for a range of high-quality replica watches that offer exquisite designs at a fraction of the cost. While replicas are not authentic, they can provide a stylish alternative for those who appreciate the aesthetic of Patek Philippe without the hefty price tag.

Conclusion

Identifying a fake Patek Philippe can be challenging, but by knowing what to look for, you can protect yourself from counterfeit watches. Pay attention to craftsmanship, movement, engravings, and purchase from trusted sellers. Whether you’re an avid collector or simply a watch enthusiast, understanding the nuances of authenticity will enhance your appreciation for this prestigious brand.

[dancingkingvaan]

A-day: What’s your height?

Younghoon: Height is overrated

A-day: Short, I see.

[incorrect-multi-kpop-quotes]

Taeyoung: Why do you have forks taped to your fingers?

Hyun: *Grabs popcorn with fork-fingers* Improvement of human being.

[talesofstyles]

The Law of Attraction

buckle up my little ballsacks you’re in for a treat. this is pure lawyer harry filth. honestly i’ve got no excuse.

massive massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume​ for letting me ramble about lawyer harry 24/7 and @for-fucks-sake-h​ for allllll the knife emojis FGHSHSGSGH ILY 🥺💛

p.s. all of my fics about lawyer harry are standalones so you don’t have to read them in order. but just fyi technically this one happens after Quid Pro Quo. hope you like it! xx

An orgasm crashes through YN’s body, causing her back to arch in her chair and her fingers to tug hard at the hair of the man who’s working his tongue between her legs. It’s half three on a Wednesday, and instead of skimming through stacks of her clients’ contracts trying to find loopholes or go through the first set of Interrogatories once again before she sends it to the opposing counsel later today; she’s got her former-nemesis-turned-best-friend kneeling before her chair, her skirt hiked up around her waist and her knickers haphazardly pulled to the side. She lets out a groan, which only eggs him on, and he lashes his tongue against her even harder.

“Enough,” she mutters weakly, her voice barely audible and she’s not even sure if he even heard it. She pushes his head away from her, but the stubborn sod only swats her hands away while growling and doubles up on his efforts. She can feel him shaking his head as he licks and sucks away, slipping his finger deep inside her the second she closes her eyes and proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm in just under two minutes.

She slaps her hand over her mouth as she reaches her high again, and Harry looks at her with a satisfied smile, before licking his shiny wet lips without breaking eye contact. The sight alone is almost enough to make her want to shove his head back to where it was half a minute ago. “Feel better?”

“Mhm,” she hums happily and Harry’s lips quirk into a gentle smirk. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he replies as he stands up, before leaning over to button their lips together in a quick kiss.

“I think the pleasure’s all mine, but let’s rectify that,” she mutters as she pulls away. “What do you want? You tell me and I’ll give it to you. Do you want me to get you off slowly or do you want to fuck my mouth?”

“Fuck,” he groans in frustration. “You’re gonna kill me here. I’ve got a deposition in- shit, two minutes. I’ve got to go now. Catch ya later doll.”

She shakes her head, chuckling as she watches him rushing out of her office. “Later, shithead.”

Isn’t it just funny how the universe works sometimes? Six months ago they couldn’t even be in the same room without having a scream-whisper match, but here they are half a year later, happily handing each other orgasms like sweets on Halloween. Harry didn’t even know exactly what was bothering her today. He just sensed that she was in a real mood when he swung by her office, so instead of splitting a packet of KitKats right on the dot at three o’clock like usual, he closed the door and switched on the panel by the door so the transparent glass wall turned translucent to give them privacy, and then he went down on her without saying another word.

The perks of being friends instead of foes with Harry is that she gets to find out that Harry’s oral skills are not limited to advocacy and sarcasm. And not to mention that he’s a very generous man. Sure, it’s not a trait particularly needed in a best friend and colleague, but fuck if that’s not something that is much appreciated. At first, obviously it wasn’t easy for YN to hang the white flag above her head. Her ego was badly bruised when the firm made Harry Senior Partner instead of her in the beginning of the year, making her feel that all the long hours and the all-nighters she’d pulled were all for nothing. She felt like she gave up her social life for nothing, basically put her life on hold for nothing and gave her all to her firm for nothing. She felt unappreciated, and the easiest target to channel all her anger and frustration was Harry. Because come on, who else was she supposed to be mad at? Her boss? It’d be like being mad at Gandhi.

It definitely got much easier when she finally let the resentment go, the fact that he was the one being promoted. Especially knowing well the reason was only because he came from a bigger law firm, and that he came bearing gifts—the gifts being five huge clients from his old firm—when he came into her firm earlier this year. She’s accepted the fact that him being promoted instead of her doesn’t mean that she’s not a damn good lawyer. Hell, she’s got a hundred percent win record to prove that. It was easier to hate him when she didn’t know him, but as they began working on cases together and she got the chance to get to know him more, she knew he deserved it. 

If you ask YN, she’d most likely tell you that having a work husband surely beats having an enemy in the office. She loves having Harry as her best friend, her most trusted legal confidant when she needs to strategise on a case and well, as an occasional lover on a bad day. He is her number one ally and advisor, the person she can laugh with and be stressed with, have politically incorrect conversations with, and give her bone-deep honest opinions to. He supports her and helps her with her cases—not that she needs help because again, she’s one hell of a lawyer, but it’s surely nice to have an extra brain in the case sometimes. 

Fuck, she really does owe Harry a good one tonight for giving her a nice distraction.

A ding sound from her phone brings her back to reality. She darts her eyes at her phone for a second, and she lets out a heavy sigh when she reads the name on the screen. It’s a text to confirm the dinner meeting tonight at The Berkeley, definitely one that she can’t avoid since he’s a huge client, but more importantly, one that she dreads to meet.

You see, there’s a large part of life that we call normalcy. Eat, sleep, take a shower. Wearing underwear inside our clothes instead of outside like Batman and Superman. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Most people drink coffee in the morning. Thirty minutes of cardio three times a week. 

As pathetic as this may sound, pining for Luke, that said client who also happens to be her ex-boyfriend has been YN’s normalcy for the past two years. Luckily, his company is her client and not the man himself so she got away with keeping contact to a  bare minimum. Meeting him only about two to three times a year and only when it’s absolutely necessary and cannot be handled by his General Counsel. But apparently, his step-father decided to retire and pass his hotel business to him—honestly, as if he’s not bloody minted already—and he needs her now more than ever because even though he knows his way around the business world, this whole thing is a new territory for him. 

This is the second time in a week that he’s arranged a meeting and only God knows how many more meetings with him she could take. Because, as always, his presence means the absence of her sanity. And she hates it.

Welcome to YN’s fucked up life.

***

“I still don’t know why you want me to go with you,” Harry says, turning to look at her when they stop at a red light. Even though it’s dark outside, the neon-blue lights from the interior electronics cast the angles of his face handsomely.

He’s driving both himself and YN to The Berkeley where they’ll be meeting Luke for a dinner meeting to discuss his new business and his plan to merge with another hotel group. Which is an absolutely terrible idea and YN plans to talk him out of it tonight. It’s probably easier said than done though, because she knows Luke and she’s definitely familiar with how stubborn he can be. 

There are a lot of things about Luke that she still remembers. He pretends to hate those mini chocolate muffins but he actually loves them. He drinks his coffee at six thirty sharp every morning, yes, even on the weekends. He loves jogging and sometimes he wishes he’s an athlete so that he can get paid just to run and play football all day long. Even though he’s rich as sin—and God, fit as fuck too—he’s humble and definitely not flashy, so if you see him without his suits, you’d probably never guess that he doesn’t actually need to work a day in his life because he comes from old money. But Luke is different. He never touched his trust fund and he was determined to create his own business from scratch.

He’d just started his business around the same time YN started working in her firm as an associate, so she saw it right before her eyes how hard he worked during those first few years as he nurtured his business. His company was one of the first clients that she’d been assigned to work on, and when she got promoted to Junior Partner, her mentor gave her The White Company as her first official client. The timing couldn’t be more brilliant since she and Luke just broke up two days prior, but she knew there was no way she could turn down such a big business.

Fuck, she’s thinking about him again. She immediately makes a mental note in her head to ask Harry for an extra orgasm tonight to keep him out of her mind. But now she can’t help snickering at the thought because she makes it sounds as if she’s asking for extra ketchup. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks and she turns to look at him. He gives her a tiny smirk before his eyes get back on the road, but he reaches his hand out to her bare knee to give her a squeeze. “Still haven’t answered me, doll.”

“Sorry- what did you ask?”

“Why did you want me to go with you?” He asks again. “He wants to merge, right? That’s totally your thing. You don’t need me.”

“You helped me with his crisis a few months ago,” she reminds him. “Just thought we could do his business together again. He’ll be happy he’s getting two partners, the firm will be happy because they can charge double. It’s a win-win, really.”

“Bollocks that,” Harry laughs. “Worst bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

“That’s all, honest,” she feigns innocence.

“Honey, I didn’t go through law school for nothing, did I?” He replies without moving his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “You’re using me as a human condom, aren’t you?”

“What the hell does that even mean?” She drops her jaw in shock at the fact that he calls her out on the carpet just like that.

“You’re afraid you’ll catch feelings again if you’re left alone with him, so you bring me as a shield. Am I right?” He asks her with an accusatory eyebrow raise. “You know what, no need to answer that. Of course I’m right.”

“I told you, he’s just a client now,” she insists, trying to ignore her heart pounding in her chest as Harry’s hand inches its way up her thigh. It’s incredibly arousing, but she also finds it a little disturbing since they’re having a conversation about a man she’s head over heels for. She almost want him to stop but fuck if she’s going to ask him.

“Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on here,” he says, and it’s really hard for her to concentrate on what he’s saying since he’s squeezing her thigh. His fingers pressing deep into her muscles and she can only wish they’re a few inches higher. “But if in any way you want to get him back, just say the word and I’ll back away, yeah?”

“There’s nothing going on, Harry,” she reassures him. “You’ve got to trust me on this. He’s just a client now.” 

“You sure?” Harry asks again. Turning to look at her briefly before he pulls into a parking space and puts the car in park, but she can tell by the tone in his voice that he doesn’t buy a single thing she’s said.

“I’m sure,” she nods reassuringly.

Harry grins as he reaches up and tweaks her on the nose. “You’re cute when you lie.”

“Shut up, shithead,” she mutters as she pulls on the door handle. It opens and she steps out, taking a moment to smooth down her dress. Leaning back down, she looks inside the car to look at Harry and give him a wink. “Now let’s go. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can reciprocate.”

***

“You have it bad for him, don’t you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow at her accusingly, not even bothering to wait until Luke disappears past the lift to take a call.

YN blinks in surprise at his accusation, but instead of denying it for the second time tonight, she finally concedes. “Is it that obvious?”

“Holy shit,” this time, it’s Harry’s turn to look at her in surprise. He definitely wasn’t expecting her to admit it, but fuck if he believed that bullshit she told him in the car. “No, it’s not obvious. But I know you better than anyone in this room.”

She chuckles, before taking a swig of her Chardonnay. “True.”

“I meant what I said earlier in the car,” Harry reminds her. “Just say the word and I’ll back away. He’s probably still into you too.”

She just stares at him for a second. She’s obviously contemplating something, he can tell. He braces, wondering if she’ll finally tell him to back away. He has to remind himself to be cool, to just nod and smile if she actually does say that. They’re not exclusive, and as amazing as this last six months has been, he knows all good things come to an end. He has no absolute reason to be upset, he knows that. And as her best friend he only wants the best for her. If she thinks Luke can make her happy, then so be it.

He’s ready for her to tell him to back away. He does. Not saying that he’ll be happy, but he’ll accept it. So imagine his surprise when she gives him a smirk and says, “let’s go all the way tonight.”

Harry’s head shoots up, and he narrows his eyes at her. “You fucking with me?”

“I was hoping you’d be the one doing all the fucking,” she murmurs, still smiling coyly at him and somehow has the audacity to dip her eyes in a completely fake showing of shyness.

Harry’s eight-inch piece of equipment that had been jumping and twitching like an excited puppy now goes to full mast, pushing hard against his zipper. He drains the rest of his drink in one big gulp, not wanting to waste any time. “Stay here and wait for him to finish that sodding call. Make up an excuse for me and distract him while I go and try to get us a room upstairs.”

“You do realise that my flat is literally ten minutes away from here right? And your place is like, what, twenty minutes tops?”

“Upstairs is closer,” he lowers his voice huskily. “They have beds too.”

Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “Beds, huh?”

“What? Don’t fancy shaggin’ on a bed?” He says with a smirk, sitting straighter as he smooths his tie. “I’ll see if they’ve got anything with a balcony then.”

“You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?” She mocks, rolling her eyes. “Does the word indecent exposure mean anything to you?”

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“I did,” she challenges him with a spark of defiance in her eyes. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Do that again and you’ll get the palm of my hand,” he tells her ominously.

“You’re all mouth and no trousers, Styles,” she taunts him. 

“Good luck trying to sit tomorrow.”

***

In less than fifteen minutes, YN is standing in a lift with Harry’s lips roaming her neck and his finger sinking deep inside of her.

She didn’t have to make up an excuse when Luke went back to their table after taking the call. Apparently, there was some emergency and he needed to get back to his office as soon as possible for an emergency meeting with the boards. She assured him it was fine and that they could easily arrange another meeting to further talk about his plan to merge with another hotel group.

Harry doesn’t waste much time as he pushes the button to their floor and the doors close. He stalks towards her, cupping her head to bring her mouth to his, and his other hand going directly between her legs. She slips her tongue into his mouth and touches it against his, the vibe of the kiss turning a bit dirty. It’s a thrilling turn on, causing waves of pleasure to pulse through both of them. His tongue ends up dominating hers in the most searing, sexually explosive kiss she’d ever been given.

His hand softly fondles her for a moment, and then he’s inside of her, curling his finger in a way that has her knees buckling. He immediately saves the day by pushing one of his legs in between hers to hold her steady. He knows he doesn’t have time to get her off before they reach their floor, so he breaks the kiss and roams his lips along her neck lightly, moving his finger in and out of her leisurely but so very deeply. Her hips flex against him, trying to demand more, but she’s just going to have to wait.

When the lift starts to slow near their floor, he calmly removes his hand, smoothes her dress down, and gives her a light kiss on the nose.

He’s smiling at her as he closes the door behind them, in a completely relaxed, but thank fuck we’re finally doing this and I’m here to fuck you senseless kind of way, and it manages to show the two dimples he sports on either side of his full lips.

Their lips meet again as he leans in, softly at first, just a taste to whet the appetite. His arms tighten around her, and he increases the pressure, urging her to open up and let him in. He’s a force to be reckoned with in a courtroom, and fuck if she’s not thanking her lucky stars that he’s just the same in the bedroom. He moves his lips against hers, making delicious little thrusts and flicks with his tongue, teasing and tantalising, all while stroking her back in the most incredibly sensual way that makes her tingling from head to toe. 

He loves how she just melts against him when he rubs her back, and how adorably dazed she looks just from a kiss. Grinning at her, he reaches a finger out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. The blood in his dick thumps, eagerly demanding to move things along, but he’s determined to take his time with her. 

Her mouth waters as her hands work at his belt buckle. His cock is thick and hard when she pulls him free of his boxer briefs, and she drops to her knees with her hand wrapped around his girth. It’s standing straight up before her after she releases it for a second, and she melts at the sight. There’s one perfectly thick vein running straight up the middle, but then it veers off at an angle. And although this is certainly not the first time she sees it, she can’t help but cock her head to the side just to see where it goes. 

He palms the side of her head with one hand and holds her hair in a ponytail at the back of her head with the other. Looking up at him, she can see his jaw is locked tight and his chest is rising and falling rapidly.

She squeezes him hard, just the way she knows how he likes, and strokes up and down a few times, making him groan. His head falls back, eyes squeezed shut. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Ssh,” she shushes him before she murmurs low in her throat. “I’ve got you.”

She finally opens her mouth, bares her teeth slightly, and then scrapes them lightly over the tip. A long, deep groan rumbles out of him, his eyes remain shut tight. Exhilaration and victory swells within her, knowing that just that one tiny touch reduced him to utter helplessness. 

He opens his eyes, gazing at her. His voice is thickened and gruff when he says, “you’ve got no idea how beautiful you look while on your knees before me.”

She responds to him by leaning in, and without hesitation taking the tip of him into her mouth, making him groan in relief. He grips her lightly, his fingers pressing into her scalp as a means of holding her steady and not to force action. She licks and sucks, squeezing and stroking him with her hand. He’s watching her from above with lust on his face, and she’s savouring every little groan she drags out of this normally stoic man. She flutters her tongue on the sensitive underside just below the head of his cock, her hand gently squeezing his balls as she works his shaft. 

“Been dying to get that cherry lipstick on my cock,” he mutters softly, she can barely hear him. He grits his teeth as he slowly pulls out of her mouth. “Knew that red lipstick would look good on me.”

Her eyes slide to his cock, and she has no clue what her mouth looks like, but she’s absolutely sure most of her lipstick is gone since it’s smeared beautifully along the length of his shaft. She tries to take it back into her mouth, determined to bring him into completion that way, but his hand immediately covers her, holding her still while his eyes pin her in place. “Wanna be inside you.”

He helps her stand on her feet, and the next thing she knows, her dress pools around her ankle. His hands come to the back of her bra, flicking it open and pulling it from her. Then he drops to his knees before her. Fingers going under her knickers, he pulls them down just enough to gain access and runs his tongue up her centre. 

He had fantasised about her naked before him more times than he could probably admit that he has to blink twice to convince himself that this time is real. And fuck if it isn’t much better than his dreams.

“Bed,” he commands, and she crawls on it with the intent to lay in a sexy pose as she turns over to face him, but he’s on the bed with her, quick as lightning, and flips her to her back.

Her eyes go up to find him staring at her tits, and she can’t help but joke. “They don’t bite, you know.”

His gaze comes up to meet hers, and his lips curve slightly. “But I do. It’s probably going to hurt a little.”

A shudder ripples through her, and her nipples harden. His eyes flick back down to her breasts. She swallows hard at the anticipation, the thought of him getting a little rough with them is thrilling, but there’s something else she wants more right now.

“I’m fucking dying to be inside you right now,” he whispers in her ear. His admission elicits a deep moan to escape from her lips. “Last chance to change your mind, doll.”

“Please just fuck me already,” she whimpers, her hands roaming his body. Every glide of her fingers over his skin fills him with a fullness he’s never experienced before. “I’m losing my mind.”

With one hand pressed into the mattress, Harry uses the other to take his cock in hand. He dips his hips, pressing the tip right into her entrance. Blowing out a breath, he brings his eyes to hers and holds her captive, finally thrusts deeply into her. She screams, not in pain but in pure fucking ecstasy, as he fills her up. Harry bottoms out, his pelvis pressed hard into hers. 

Baring his teeth, he mutters, “fuck… that feels good.”

“Would feel better if you move,” she suggests with a smirk.

Harry stays completely still inside of her. He breathes in deeply, closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them up again, he gives her a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid to move. Afraid I might embarrass myself and blow my load in about two nanoseconds.”

She lets out a giggle, pretty sure that’s the one and only time in her life she’s ever done something so girly. Harry laughs huskily and kisses her hard. He doesn’t move an inch from his waist down but just kisses her deeply with thorough possession. When he pulls away, he tentatively circles his hips, grinding into her.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and drops his forehead to hers. “Yeah… definitely not gonna last long.”

Her hands go into his hair and she massages his scalp, incredibly touched and turned on over his reaction to her. She tugs on his hair, pulling his face away from hers. “Harry?”

He moves reluctantly and looks down at her with that same abashed look. She tilts her hips, clenches her internal muscles around his cock, and then rubs her thumbs into his scalp.

“Let go,” she commands him softly. “Fuck me hard and come as fast as you want. We’ve got all night.”

***

Harry’s hand reaches out, tapping the screen on his phone to turn the alarm off, laying silently in the predawn gloom pondering about his situation at this very moment.

There’s a naked, beautiful woman on top of him, and fuck if he can remember when was the last time he woke up with someone else in his bed. It’s not that he’s averse to cuddles; if the woman wants a cuddle with him after sex, he’d give it to them. The act of intimacy like that doesn’t scare him whatsoever. But normally he’d be out of their hair long before the sun is up, leaving them to wake up alone and him to start his day as if the night before didn’t happen.

He always tells himself to forget whoever he shags the night before no matter how great of a fuck she was, although he’ll allow himself to bring forth the memories when he jerks off if needed. 

YN fell asleep a few hours prior, spread-eagled over his body right after she collapsed from the most recent fuck-fest. She came, he came, then she fell forwards onto his chest and was out like a light. And he left her right there all night. Letting her lie on top of him, calling it a day well completed and went to sleep himself.

His hand slides down from her stomach right between her legs, his fingers swiping through her folds which become slicker with desire the more he plays. She softly moans in her sleep and her lower body starts to squirm. Her breathing hitches, and the second she cracks her eyes open, she gives him that happy, sleepy, please fuck me again smile. 

He gently eases her down from the top of his chest to lay beside him, rolling her to the side so her back is facing him. Then he pushes her outer leg up, sliding his body down just a little bit, angling his cock to slip into her from behind. 

Harry moves slowly as he’s spooned around her and she moans in pure bliss as he fills her up. The arm that her head is resting on comes up to curve across her chest and hold her tight. His other hand grips the back of her thigh firmly to pin her in place.

“More,” she whispers on a forced exhalation. 

“Fuck me,” he mumbles against her hair. “My girl wants more.”

And he gives her more. Fucking her exquisitely and with no doubt that neither of them has ever had it that good. He takes her higher and higher, the sweet words that he’s whispering in her ear is the complete opposite of the kinky shit they did last night. 

“Balcony?”

YN didn’t hesitate, following right behind him as he pushed the doors open. A light breeze filters in but it’s still muggy outside. They’re on the seventh floor, and they can still hear the rumble of engines and the honking of horns below them. The quiet darkness of Belgravia stretches out beyond.

Harry walked up to the edge of the balcony, which was made of stone and concrete, sitting about three and a half feet high. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a searing kiss. She moaned, slipping her tongue in his mouth and gripped onto his shoulders. The kiss was deep and wet, and honestly, the best kind of kiss.

He pushed her up against the wall, laying a palm over one breast. Squeezing, plumping, testing the weight in his hand. He rubbed a thumbnail over her nipple, eliciting the softest sigh from her. 

He brought his other hand south. Straight shot, right to her centre. Her head dropped to his shoulder as his fingertips continued to circle and rub against her. Within minutes she had his fingers deep inside her and his thumb working her hard. He wanted nothing more than to just line up and push his way in, but he waited. He waited until he saw her trembling became a little fiercer, her body tensed, and when she sucked in a large gulp of air, he knew that was his cue.

He quickly removed his fingers, bracing his hands on her hips and slammed forward. She took him all the way in and he cursed under his breath as he felt her spasm all around him when she came. For a second he thought about hitting it hard, chasing another orgasm, but then he decided against it, wanting to relish the scenery and listen to the sounds of the city.

“Let’s just quit our jobs and fuck all day,” Harry jokes as he drops her leg back down into place.

“Sounds good to me,” she laughs as she reaches around him, grabbing the complimentary bottle of water on the nightstand, taking a sip before she hands it to him and he finishes it in a couple of long swallows. 

“Thirsty?”

“Starving too,” he replies in a way that doesn’t make her think he wants some bacon and eggs. 

Within seconds, he has her on her back again as he slides down her body, roughly pushing her legs apart. Her hands shoot out, grabbing the sides of his head before he gets the chance to descend even lower. “No.”

“What?”

“Let me get cleaned up first,” she says lamely, pretty sure she’s killed the mood. “I mean… I’m filled with-”

Harry ignores her, cutting her off by dropping his mouth right between her legs and begins sucking. She shrieks from the warm contact, surprised by how sensitive she is, and as he lifts his gaze to hers, he murmurs. “That’s you and me together, and we taste fucking delicious.”

Her body trembles from his words, and through a dry and parched throat she croaks, “then by all means.”

“Thank you,” he says with a wink, then proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm that totally wrecks her.

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Swipe Right (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Garcia convinces Spencer to download Tinder.

Warnings: None, i think. Takes place in season 10, mentions Maeve a few times but doesn’t explicitly spoil anything so if you haven’t gotten that far in the series read at your own risk

Notes: wow can y’all imagine if tinder actually worked? yeah me neither, but it’s fun to pretend

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

“You’re telling me you don’t have a single picture of yourself on your phone?” Garcia questioned, snatching Spencer’s phone from his hand and checking herself.

“Garcia, I only use that phone to talk to you guys and my mother. Of course I don’t have any pictures of myself.” Spencer explained. He tried to reach for his phone, but Garcia held it out of reach.

It’s team bonding night, so everyone had gone out to a local pub to have dinner. Rossi and Hotch had called it a night pretty early, so now it was just Spencer, Penelope, Derek, Kate, JJ, and Will, who had gotten a babysitter for Henry. Somehow, they had gotten on the topic of dating apps, and Garcia was determined to get Spencer back into the field.

“Ok everyone, search your photos, send anything with Spencer to me. There has to be a few decent pictures of you, 187, and I will find them for this profile, mark my words.” The rest of the team pulled out their phones, despite Spencer’s immediate complaints, and began looking through their pictures.

“Oh, guys, look at Spence and baby Henry!!” JJ whipped her phone around, showing off the picture of Spencer and his godson.

“I’ve got a picture of Reid that time Rossi and I got him drunk so we had a chance to beat him at poker.” Morgan said, laughing at the picture of Spencer stumbling around Rossi’s place. 

“Oh! Spencer and Sergio!” Garcia said a little too loudly, causing other people to turn towards the table. The picture she showed off was Spencer reading a book during a team hangout a few years back at Prentiss’ place. Sergio was happily sitting in Spencer’s lap, as he pet him carefully.

The team found a few more decent pictures, and within 10 minutes, Garcia had downloaded Tinder on Spencer’s phone - “How do you know my password?” “Please, genius, use your big brain.” - and had made him an account using the pictures (minus the drunk one). She filled in his bio with all the best details about Spencer; FBI agent, 3 PHDs, certifiable badass. (Spencer made her delete the last part.) After the account was made, JJ, Will, and Kate all decided to head out as well, considering they all had children at home. That left just Derek and Penelope to help Spencer get the hang of the app.

“Ok pretty boy, it’s simple. Swipe right if you like them, left if you don’t. If they like you too, you can start chatting with them, get to know ‘em a little better before you meet in person.” Morgan demonstrated, swiping right or left on the first few people that popped up on Spencer’s phone.

“Oh! And if you want to know more about them, you click here,” Garcia tapped on the button of the screen, “And you can read their bio, plus look through more pictures!”

“Guys, I don’t know about this. Girls barely talk to me in person, why would it be any different online?” Spencer didn’t say it, but he had another concern as well. After what happened with Maeve, the idea of falling for someone he didn’t know in person gave him a lot of anxiety.

“You’re a cute doctor! Girls should be worried that you won’t like them, not the other way around!” Garcia said, as she began swiping for Spencer.

“Don’t I get any choice-”

“Nope.” Garcia swiped right on someone, and the picture disappeared to reveal the words ‘Match!’ on the screen. “See! You’ve been on the market for all of 15 minutes and girls already want you!”

And so that’s how the trio spent the rest of the evening; Derek and Penelope making decisions on Spencer’s love life, while Spencer tried and failed to have a say in anything. Spencer hadn’t expected much, but by the time they’d left the pub, Spencer had 23 matches - and on the way home, his phone buzzed an additional 7 times, bringing his total to 30. 30 women that wanted to get to know Spencer. That’s more women in one night than Spencer had dated in his entire life. Of course, besides the beginnings of small talk Derek had started on his behalf with a few of them, he didn’t actually have any dates. Derek had said to give it time, not take it too seriously, and at least one of them would be willing to meet him in person. But without the guidance of his friends, Spencer had a harder time building the confidence to actually talk to these women.

In the safety of his apartment, Spencer spent another half hour on the app, swiping left on nearly everyone he came across. Derek and Penelope had warned him to not be picky, but Spencer was a romantic at heart. When he looked at the pictures, he just didn’t feel anything. He wanted his heart to race, his cheeks to heat up - something to indicate a connection. Knowing that he would probably never get that through a screen, he got ready to close the app and head to bed. One last profile caught his attention, though.

Y/N. Her profile picture showed her posing in front of the Capitol building, smiling widely. He clicked on her profile, and scrolled through her other pictures; Y/N posing with a group of friends, Y/N eating frozen yogurt, a candid picture of her looking through a bookstore. Her bio was short: “Hey, I’m Y/N. My friends talked me into this, but I doubt it’ll work. Feel free to prove me wrong.” 

His heart wasn’t racing, and his cheeks weren’t warm, but he did have a feeling. Spencer couldn’t put it into words, but he knew there was something about this girl, so he swiped right. Spencer tried not to be too disappointed that he didn’t immediately match with her, but he knew there was a chance she hadn’t seen his profile yet. So, he locked his phone and promptly went to bed.

~~~

The next morning, Spencer had forgotten about the girl until he got a notification on the way to work. The Tinder logo popped up on his screen, followed by the words, “You have a new match!” Spencer quickly unlocked the phone, and surely enough, it was Y/N. Spencer began to type out a message, but couldn’t decide what to say

Hello. (delete)

Hi, How are you? (delete)

Did you know online dating has a success rate of 44%? (delete)

Before Spencer could figure it out, a message from you appeared.

Hey, I’m Y/N.

Do you really have 3 PHDs?

And just like that, the conversation took off. Throughout Spencer’s day at work - luckily, no new case today - You two held a steady conversation. By the time 5 o’clock rolled around and Spencer was ready to head home for the day, he knew your job, your favorite bookstore, and your strong opinions on Doctor Who - Spencer had claimed that the 4th Doctor is the best, and you spend the next half hour trying to convince him that the 10th Doctor is actually the best. The only thing you guys hadn’t talked about was meeting in person; Spencer wanted to see you in person, watch you excitedly talk about things you’re passionate about, hold your hand...he just needed to ask. Surely, if you weren’t interested, you wouldn’t have talked to him all day, right?

Do you think we could get coffee sometime? 

He sent it before he could regret it. He watched anxiously as the three dots appeared on his screen, then disappeared. His anxiety skyrocketed, and he nervously began to type out another message.

We can keep talking about your incorrect views on Doctor Who.

After a second, a response popped up.

I think you mean your incorrect views, Spencer.

Does Saturday work for you? 10 am at Duke’s?

Spencer thanked every god he could think of before he sent you his response.

I’ll see you then!

~~~

In Garcia’s batcave, Penelope had hacked Spencer’s Tinder account, and she and Derek watched as Spencer got his first date since Maeve. 

“Ha! Told ya Spencer could get a date without your help!” Penelope exclaimed, turning away from the screen to look at Derek. She held out her hand, and Derek reluctantly pulled out his wallet, and placed a ten dollar bill in her hand.

“Yeah, whatever. I’d be more upset, but I’m happy for the kid.”

~~~

tags: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1

[germanlangblr]

Ab vs von

Ab and von both mean ‘from’ but they are NOT interchangeable and are used in a specific context. 

von is used when there is a defined period of time that you are doing/or have done something.  

For example: 

Ich lerne Deutsch von 11 bis 12 Uhr - I learn German from 11 to 12 o’clock. 

Ich schlafe von 22 bis 7 Uhr - I sleep from 10 to 7 o’clock. 

(Tip: When speaking about time make sure that Uhr comes at the end of the second time period, saying 11 Uhr bis 12 Uhr is incorrect). 

Ab is used when you do something from a period of time but do not specify the length that the action is completed. It is easy to think of it like the English phrase ‘from then on’ 

Ab Montag, lerne ich Deutsch - From Monday, I learn German. 

Ab 11 Uhr, muss ich meine Mutter anrufen - From 11 o’clock, I must call my mother. 

I hope this helps! Have a good evening all x

[mldrgrl]

prompt: Mulder and Scully being competitive with each other over silly things - Jeopardy? solving the case before the end of an episode of some sort of forensic crime show? how many slices of pizza they can eat? a board game? etc.

Loved this one, Anon, thank you so much.  And I was in the mood to whip up something humorous.  Went to sleep last night thinking about it.

Half and Half

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG

“I’m dying to get out of this suit,” Scully says.  “Give me ten minutes and then we can go through the report?”

“I’ll leave the connecting door unlocked,” Mulder says as they exit their rental car and head to the doors to their rooms.  “Come over when you’re done and we’ll order in.”

She sighs in relief as she kicks off her heels at the door.  She tosses her blazer to the side, unbuttons her shirt, and loosens her skirt.  She clips her hair back, washes her face, and changes into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

File folders under her arm, she taps lightly on the connecting door before she pushes it open.  Mulder is sitting at the edge of the bed, tie off and buttons undone at the neck.  His shirtsleeves are rolled up and he’s yelling at the TV.

“What is Mork & Mindy!” he yells.  “Mork and Mindy, you idiots.  Everyone knows ‘nanu nanu.’”

“We were looking for, ‘What is Mork & Mindy?’” Alex Trebeck says.

“Obviously,” Mulder says.  “How did you people even get on the show?”

“What are you doing?” Scully asks.

“Playing Jeopardy.”

“TV Catchphrases for $400, Alex.”

“Book ‘em, Danno.”

“What is Hawaii 5-0,” Mulder yells, just as Scully says, “Hawaii 5-0.”

Mulder makes the sound of a buzzer.  “You have to answer in the form of a question, Scully, or it doesn’t count.”

“I still knew the answer.”

“You mean, the question.”

“Do you want to debate the semantics of Jeopardy or go over the reports?”

“Sure, sure.”

“Let’s try Shakespeare Who Said it? for $200.”

“Double double, toil and trouble.”

“Who are the witches?” Mulder answers.

“Who are the three witches of Macbeth,” Scully says at the same time.

“Who is Macbeth?” answers the first contestant to ring in.

“Oh, come on,” Scully says.  “You can’t be that dumb.”

“Right?”

“Not quite what we’re looking for,” Alex answers.  Finally, the second contestant answers correctly.

“Shakespeare Who Said It for $300.”

“I prithee daughter do not make me mad.”

“Baptista, maybe,” Mulder answers.  “Who is Baptista?”

“No, who is King Lear?” Scully disagrees.

“Who is King Lear?”

“Who is, King Lear.  Act 2, scene 4, referring to Goneril.  And that will lead us to our first commercial break.  More to come after these words from our sponsors.”

“I should’ve known that one,” Mulder says, scooting over to make room for Scully on the bed.  “$600 to $500, I’m winning.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You lost Hawaii 5-0 to incorrect phrasing.”

“You didn’t establish the rules.  $600 to $900, I’m winning.”

“I didn’t have to establish anything, those are the inherent rules of Jeopardy.  Everybody knows that.”

“Mulder, I’m here to go over these reports,” Scully answers, holding up the file folders that have been tucked under her arm the whole time.  She is still standing.

“How about a little wager?”

“On what?”

“Winner orders the pizza of their choice, loser pays.”

“Come on, Mulder.”

“You don’t think you can beat me?”

“No, I know I can beat you.  I just want to get this review done so I can go to bed.”

“Scully, it’s 7 o’clock.  The review can wait.  Unless you’re just chicken.”

“Very mature.”

“Triple dog dare you?”

Scully held her hand out as though to shake Mulder’s.  “We start with a clean slate going in from the commercial and we make our own wagers on Double Jeopardy questions.”

“I’ll keep score!”  Mulder leaves Scully’s handshake hanging in the breeze and jumps up to grab the complimentary pad of paper and pen on the motel desk, which she snatches from him as soon as he comes back to sit down.

“I’ll keep score,” she says.

“You are the math geek.”

They sit through contestant bios and Alex Trebek’s vaguely sarcastic comments on the tidbits they’ve chosen to share with the audience.  When the game starts back up again, there are two answers left in Shakespeare Who Said It? and every answer available in Civil War Nicknames, The Old West, and American Folklore.

Unsurprisingly, Mulder dominates the folklore category, but they tie for two answers.  They both struggle with The Old West more than Civil War Nicknames, but the answers there are easier to decipher within the clues.  Mulder is up $700 when the first Daily Double comes up in The Old West.

“$200,” Scully says.  “I already don’t even want to know the answer.”

“$500,” Mulder answers.  

“Suffering from tuberculosis and alcoholism, this dentist turned gunslinger died in a sanitarium at the age of 36.”

“Who is Doc Holliday,” Scully answers.

“Who is Bat Master..dammit!” Mulder replies just a beat behind her.

“You should’ve known that one.”

“It was the first thing that popped into my head.  What’s the damage?”

“We’re tied.”

“All right, next round, it’s getting serious.”

“Prepare to pay for a large vegetarian with extra olives.”

“Ugh, vegetables on pizza is the antithesis to the point of pizza.”

“And what is the point of pizza?”

“All the pepperoni you can handle and then add in some sausage for good measure.”

“You’re a heart attack waiting to happen, Mulder.  When was the last time you had your cholesterol checked?”

“In May, actually.  Fit as a fiddle.  Here we go, round 2.”

“...categories are: Before & After, Science, Word Origins, Potpourri, The Body Human, and finally, Astronomy. ”

The contestants seem fixated on Potpourri and Before & After, to Mulder’s relief.  He isn’t ready for Scully to completely smoke him in the Science and The Body Human categories.  He figures if he can do well enough in the first two, he might be able to hold firm and maybe they might get to Astronomy where he can make a comeback.  Sure enough, she responds so quickly in the first two Science answers he can’t even get a word out.

“Born this year, a sheep named this introduced the world to cloning.”

“Dolly!” Mulder yells, too excited about knowing a Science question he forgets to phrase it properly.

“Who is Dolly,” Scully corrects.

“Dammit!”

“Your rules.”

“I know, I know.  Still, dammit.”

Blessedly, the contestants leave Science and migrate to Astronomy and since the first answer is the planet nicknamed The Red Planet, a Jeopardy equivalent of low-hanging fruit, they stick with it.  The first Daily Double of the 2nd round hits them at the $800 question in Astronomy.

“I’m up by $1,600,” Scully says.  “You have $3,900.”

“I’m going to make it a true Daily Double.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“$600,” Scully says, after a few moments hesitation.

Mulder worries his bottom lip with his teeth and waits for the answer to come.

“This spiral galaxy is named for an Ethiopian princess in Greek Mythology.”

“What is Andromeda!” They both yell.

Mulder realizes he’s sweating after the last question and even though it paid off, he vows not to make that kind of gamble again.  Scully berates herself for not being more confident in her astronomy knowledge as she now trails Mulder by $1,700, which may or may not be easy to recover from.

Time runs out before all the clues are revealed and the 2nd Daily Double is never found.  By final Jeopardy, they’re nearly neck and neck, with Mulder at $9,100 and Scully at $8,500.

“The final category is: Computers.”

“Good thing The Gunmen aren’t here,” Mulder says.  “Gimme one of those sheets of paper and we can write our wagers and guesses like the others.”

Scully rips off a piece of paper and they both take nearly all of the commercial break to come up with their wagers.  Scully folds her paper in half with the wager face down.  Mulder turns his over and places it on the bed.

“And here we go with the final answer.  Born in 1815, this daughter of a famous poet published an algorithm for a mechanical calculator and is believed by some to be the first ever computer programmer.”

Mulder writes his answer immediately and Scully taps her pen against her teeth as the final Jeopardy music winds down.  She finally picks up her paper and memorializes her guess before the final note.

“Whatcha got?” Mulder asks.

“I want to see their answers first,” Scully replies.

Mulder bounces his knee in anticipation.  The contestant in 3rd place answers incorrectly with Dora Wordsworth, but only wagered $1.

“I hate when they do that,” Scully says.  “It’s not The Price is Right.”

“Listen, if the category was Nuclear Physics, I might only be waging $1 as well.”

“Too bad it wasn’t.”

The contestant in 2nd place also answers incorrectly with “Who is ____?” and ends up with $4500.  Mulder shakes his head.

“At least put something,” he says.

“Seriously,” Scully agrees.

“And now Judith, our three day champion, currently in the lead with $13,800.  What did she guess?  Who is Ada Lovelace?  Daughter of Lord Byron, known for her work on Charles Babbage’s Analytical Engine, August Ada King, Countess of Lovelace, or Ada Lovelace.  And how much did Judith wager?  $7,000, bringing her three day total to $65,941.”

“Alright, Scully, moment of truth.”

“Count of three?” she asks.

“Is that one, two, reveal?  Or one, two, three, reveal?”

“One, two, reveal.”

“Okay.  One, two…”  

They both turn their papers around.  Both answered Who is Ada Lovelace?  They both grin.

“Frohike would be so tickled with your familiarity with the mother of computer programming,” Mulder says.  

“Yeah?  How does he feel about your familiarity with her?”

“Pretty jealous, actually.”

“What was your wager?”

Mulder turns over the paper again to show her.  “$3,000.  You?”

Scully bites her lip a little and then flips the fold of her paper for Mulder to see.  “$8,000.”

“$8,000!”

“Go big or go home, right?”

“Damn, Scully.  You’re a monster.  In a good way, obviously.  But, damn.  So, I guess that vegetarian is on me.”

“Extra olives.”

“With extra olives.”  He grimaces and gets up to grab the Yellow Pages in the nightstand.  

Scully opens up her file folders and begins sorting the reports for review across the end of Mulder’s bed as he searches for a pizza parlor.  He’s on the phone fairly quickly after browsing the phone book.

“Yes, I’d like to place an order for delivery,” Mulder says.  “A large.  Vegetarian.”

“Half vegetarian,” Scully interrupts without looking up.  “Half pepperoni and sausage.”

“Sorry, half vegetarian, half pepperoni and sausage.  Extra olives on the vegetarian side, please.  Yeah, I’ll hold.”  Mulder drops the phone to his shoulder while hold music plays and smiles slightly.  “Scully, you interested in a rematch tomorrow night?”

“Depends on how interested you are in buying another pizza.”

The End

[whumphoarder]

Emergency Contact

Summary: It’s not that James disliked his roommate, it’s just that they didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.

Or, in which fifteen-year-old college freshman Tony Stark needs a ride to the ER and James Rhodes is too responsible for his own good.

Word count: 4,050

Genre: sickfic, hurt/comfort, angst, whump

A/N: Thank you so much to @xxx-cat-xxx and @sallyidss for beta reading, ideas, and encouragement!

Link to read on Ao3

It’s not that James disliked his roommate, it’s just that they didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.

To be fair, the skinny five-foot-four prepubescent kid who’d walked into James’ dorm on move-in day didn’t look much like a college student, nor was he lugging in cardboard boxes and duffle bags filled with crap like the rest of the freshmen in the hall. There was no air of excitement and trepidation to him—no telltale buzz of new experiences. Not to mention, James had spent the majority of his summer away at Air Force ROTC camp, cut off from most forms of media and therefore oblivious to the rumors that Howard Stark’s infamous fifteen-year-old child prodigy was set to start his engineering course at MIT the very same semester that he was. It was hardly his fault for not recognizing the kid.

Even so, he probably shouldn’t have addressed Tony as ‘champ’ and asked if he was there to drop off an older sibling. That was on him.

What was not on James, however, was the fit Stark pitched at the resident assistant’s office upon realizing that his father had evidently not set him up with a single room after all.

“So move me then,” the little twerp demanded. “Just put it on the old man’s bill—he’s got the money. I didn’t just live through the last seven years of boarding school dormitories only to have to keep sharing the fucking bathroom in college.” He glanced over his shoulder at James, before adding, offhandedly, “No offense—I’m sure you’re swell.”

James huffed out a short, ironic laugh. He was standing in the back corner of the office with his back leaning against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest, quietly taking in the scene unfolding in front of him. “None taken.”

(At this point, he wouldn’t have minded a switch either.)

The mousy redhead at the desk looked frazzled. “Look, I’m very sorry, Mr. Stark,” she tried to explain, “but there’s nothing I can do. All our single dorms are fully booked.”

Even when the kid shoved a wad of cash at her tall enough to make James’ eyebrows rise, the RA held her ground.

“It’s a first come, first serve policy,” she explained, her voice faltering, but words firm. “At least until something opens up. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it has to be.”

So there they were, a nineteen-year-old Air Force cadet from a working class family in Philly who had gotten into ‘fancy school’ on an ROTC scholarship, a 3.87 GPA, and a prayer, and a spoiled rich brat with a pile of daddy issues taller than the Bunker Hill Monument. The two were going to be stuck together for at least the next few weeks and neither of them was particularly thrilled about it.

X

Despite James’ initial concerns, rooming with Stark wasn’t actually that bad.

James had an additional scholarship that was dependent on his academic performance, so he joined several study groups to keep his grades up. Between ROTC, student government, and mock UN, along with his never-ending mountain of engineering coursework, he was rarely home.

Meanwhile, Tony might look like a twelve-year-old, but that certainly didn’t get in the way of his budding popularity on campus. The kid was swimming in invites to different parties and events (though whether that was due to his own sharp wit and natural charisma, or simply his undeniable social status as the son of Howard Stark, James couldn’t tell). Either way, between James’ busy schedule and Tony’s avid social calendar, the two could go days without seeing each other, which suited them both just fine.

With all the partying, James figured his roommate’s grades must be suffering, but a curious glance at the quarterly report letter lying on Tony’s desk last week proved otherwise. The kid had straight A’s in all seven of his classes—two more than James himself was taking.

(Alright, maybe he disliked Tony a little bit.)

X

James knew it wasn’t going to be a good day from the moment he woke up to see sunlight streaming in through the blinds. That just wasn’t supposed to happen at 5:45 a.m. in November.

“Shit,” he muttered, scrambling out of his twin-size bunk. The display on his alarm clock was silently blinking the very incorrect time of ‘12:00’. The previous night’s storm must have knocked out the power. He grabbed his watch from atop his desk to check the actual time and immediately breathed out a sigh of relief. 7:22. No morning run today, but he should still be able to make it to his eight a.m. class if he hurried.

Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he snagged some clean clothes from his dresser and made a beeline to the adjoining bathroom. He pushed open the door and slapped on the light switch, but the second the room illuminated to reveal the scrawny figure sitting slumped on the floor between the toilet and the wall, James froze.

“Tony?” he asked in confusion. He hadn’t even heard the kid come home last night.

Without opening his eyes, Tony hummed a bit in response. Then all at once, he lurched forward and gagged, coughing up what looked to be mostly bile into the toilet bowl.

James grimaced. It was definitely not the first time he’d seen his roommate severely hungover, but it was the first time he’d seen it happen on a Tuesday . At the rate this kid was partying, he’d be lucky if he had any liver function left by the time he graduated.

With a sigh, James set his stack of clean clothes down on the sink counter. “Look man, I’m sorry, but I really gotta shower. I know you’re not feeling too great, but do you think you can give me, like, five minutes in here?”

Tony blinked up at him, seeming to process the question. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay…”

Doing his best to ignore the acidic smell of vomit, James stepped carefully around Tony into the small room. He flushed the toilet and grabbed the metal trash can from beside the sink while Tony pulled himself shakily to his feet.

“Thanks dude. I promise I’ll be fast.” He passed the can off to Tony and watched him stumble back out of the room before shutting the door.

If the military had taught James nothing else, it was efficiency. He emerged ten minutes later—showered, dressed, and clean shaven—to find Tony sitting listlessly on the edge of his bed. The boy looked more dead than alive, with one arm wrapped around his stomach and sweat soaking through his thin gray t-shirt. Just the sight of him was practically an underage drinking PSA in itself.

“Bathroom’s all yours,” James announced as he grabbed his backpack from the floor.

Tony acknowledged him with a small grunt, but didn’t make any effort to move. His mouth was slightly open and he was breathing through it carefully, warily eyeing the trash can on the floor in front of him. For once, James was glad he had an eight a.m. class to get to; he figured in about five minutes, he wouldn’t want to be here anyway.

In a spur of the moment gesture of kindness, James grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the case under his desk and tossed it onto Tony’s bed. “Feel better, dude,” he said on his way out the door.

X

Tuesday was always a busy day for James. He had back-to-back classes all morning, followed by a student council meeting in the afternoon and a mandatory ROTC training session. It was nearly seven o’clock by the time he made it back to the dorm, and by that time he’d honestly forgotten about that morning’s excitement until he opened the door to their room.

As miserable as Tony had appeared that morning, he looked decidedly worse now. He was lying curled up on the edge of his bed in a tangle of sheets and blankets, cheeks flushed and body shivering. The whole room carried the vague scent of vomit, though the trash can by the bed was currently empty.

“So… I take it this isn’t a hangover?” James deduced, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He plopped the paper sack of Taco Bell that was going to make up his dinner onto his desk, causing Tony’s face to scrunch up in displeasure. “Stomach flu?” he guessed.

Tony made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat.

“Think you got a fever?”

Another low noise issued from Tony, somewhere between a grunt and a moan, which James took to mean something along the lines of ‘don’t know, and don’t care.’

James hesitated a moment, unsure what to do. If his mother were here, she’d tisk her tongue and press her hand to the kid’s forehead to gauge his temperature, but somehow he didn’t see that going over too well with Tony.

Instead, James checked his watch and sighed. “I can give you a ride to the student health center if you want,” he offered. “They don’t close until eight.”

“Don’ have to... ‘s just a bug,” Tony mumbled into the pillow, the most consecutive words James had heard from him all day. “I’ll be fine.”

The thing was, if Tony were one of his ROTC buddies, James would have dropped it right there. He’d never been particularly good at caretaking, and besides, he had a test coming up in his thermal-fluids class tomorrow morning that he should really be studying for. But something about the utter vulnerability Tony was displaying at the moment gave James pause. True, the kid might be a stuck-up asshole, but he was also just that— a kid. Only a few years older than James’ own kid-brother.

James looked at Tony appraisingly. “Can you handle a shower?”

“Huh?” Tony breathed.

“A shower,” James repeated. “Remember those? Water, soap, maybe even some shampoo if you’re feeling adventurous,” he said wryly. “That is, if you can do it without passing out.”

Tony fixed him with a rather pathetic glare. “Not gonna pass out.”

“You better not,” James quipped, crossing his arms and watching as Tony pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ve seen more than enough white boys’ pasty asses this summer to last a lifetime. I have no desire to add another.”

(Tony lifted his middle finger weakly in his roommate’s direction.)

X

Over the sound of the shower running in the background, James ate his tacos and started flipping through his class notes in preparation for the test the next morning, but he was finding it unusually hard to focus. He kept listening for any sounds of distress from the bathroom, and after fifteen minutes had elapsed, he got up from his desk and crossed the room.

“Hey, I was serious about the ‘no passing out’ rule, Stark,” he hollered, rapping his knuckles against the door. “If you biff it in there, you’re on your own.”

As if on cue, a loud crashing sound immediately issued from inside the shower.

James’ eyes widened. He jiggled the door handle only to find it locked. “Tony?” he called. “Did you just fall?”

There was no response.

James cursed. He grabbed a paper clip from his desk and quickly jimmied the flimsy lock open—a skill he’d learned from his cousins years ago—before pushing open the door. “Tony?” he called again.

Suddenly, a hand emerged and pulled the edge of the shower curtain back just enough for Tony to stick his head out the side. His face was totally straight, but there was a hint of mirth in his eyes. “Whoops, must’ve dropped the shampoo bottle,” he deadpanned. “Thank god I’m rooming with the US Coast Guard.”

“Air Force,” James corrected irritably.

Tony pulled the curtain back closed. “Whatever.”

James rolled his eyes. “Next time I’m letting you drown, Stark...” he grumbled as he stepped back out of the room.

X

By the time Tony finally emerged from the bathroom an additional twenty minutes later (the latter ten of which he’d spent retching loud enough into the toilet that James had broken out his walkman and headphones), all traces of his earlier humor had dissolved. He moved shakily back to his bed and managed a couple sips of water before curling up on his side, the trash can within easy reach.

James tried to turn his attention back to his textbook, but Tony’s labored breathing as he drifted in and out of consciousness was making it difficult to focus. James kept stealing worried side glances back at the bed, wondering whether there was something else he should be doing.

At around nine-thirty, Tony jerked up suddenly and stumbled back to the bathroom to start dry-retching into the toilet again, and that was when James gave up trying to study for the night. He got up from his desk and pushed open the hastily half-closed door to the bathroom to wet a washcloth at the sink. When the mostly unproductive spasms ceased, he handed the cloth to Tony.

“Have you eaten anything today?” James asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer already.

Tony just grimaced and shook his head.

“Want some crackers or something?” he offered. “I can go raid the cafeteria soup station.” James might not have had as packed of a social calendar as Tony, but it wasn’t like he never partied. He still knew the college hangover tricks.

Tony shook his head again, eyes closed. He seemed to lack the energy for words.

“Gatorade at least then?” James tried again. “All I’ve seen you drink today is one water bottle—you’ve gotta be getting dehydrated by now.”

Another head shake. “I’ll jus’ puke it up again…” Tony muttered. “Prob’ly a kidney too at this rate.”

“Well it’s better than puking up nothing,” James reasoned. Technically, he didn’t know if that was true or not, but he was tired of watching the kid be miserable. He moved back to the room to grab his keys and jacket. “What flavor do you want?” he called.

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony croaked back from the bathroom. “They’re all terrible.”

“That’s the most ignorant thing I’ve ever heard you say,” James retorted. “Just for that you’re getting purple.”

And with that, he exited the dorm and shut the door behind him with a bang.

X

It turned out that the vending machine in the lobby outside the dining hall only sold three Gatorade flavors—blue, orange, and red. James bought a bottle of each, then slipped into the deserted cafeteria to snag a handful of individually-wrapped saltine packets from the clam chowder counter before heading back to the dorm. It took some cajoling, but he managed to get two full crackers and half a bottle of the sports drink into Tony before it came right back up.

“Told you,” Tony rasped, spitting neon blue strings of bile into the toilet bowl. “Lost cause.”

“We’ll try red next,” James said, cracking open a fresh bottle. “One of them’s bound to stick.”

But red didn’t stay down any better, and neither did orange. James mooched a can of ginger ale and a quarter of a bottle of Pepto Bismol off a fellow cadet down the hall, but those fared no better. Even the cup of tap water James kept bullying him into taking sips from proved too much.

By midnight, Tony was still sitting slumped against the toilet on the bathroom floor, barely conscious, and James was at a total loss. “I think we have to go to the ER,” he admitted finally.

Without opening his eyes, Tony made a low noise of discontent in the back of his throat. His eyes were sunken in and he was alarmingly pale.

James let out a deep sigh. “Look, I’m sorry man, but we’re running out of options here. If you can’t even keep water down, you’re gonna need an IV.”

“No…” Tony lifted a shaky hand to try to take the cup of water James was holding. “I’ll-I’ll try again… just—” His words were cut off by a weak gag.

James cursed under his breath and quickly steered Tony’s head back over the bowl. It turned out not to matter though because for the next several minutes of miserable retching, nothing came up. When it was finally over, Tony slumped back against the wall. His eyes were red and puffy, and James figured it was only dehydration that was keeping the tears from falling.

“Alright, that’s it,” James declared. He wrapped an arm around Tony to lever him upright, feeling the feverish heat coming off the kid in waves. “I’m not letting you die on our bathroom floor—we won’t get the deposit back.”

Tony breathed out the ghost of a laugh. “Jus’ tell Howard to write you a check at the funeral...” he murmured. “‘bout all he’s good for,” he added under his breath.

James’ brow furrowed but he chose not to comment. He hoisted Tony to his feet and bore most of the kid’s weight as he led him back to the bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the mattress. “I’m gonna get you a clean shirt, okay?”

Tony nodded, gazing blankly forward with half-lidded eyes. James ended up having to help the kid pull his sweat-soaked t-shirt off and guide his uncooperative arms into a fresh one, followed by his coat. When they got to the shoes, James didn’t even bother having Tony try himself. He just stuffed the kid’s feet into a pair of sneakers for him.

“I taught my little sister how to do this last summer,” James explained as he tied Tony’s laces, if only for something to fill the awkward silence. “She’s in first grade.”

Tony hummed lightly. “I never went.”

James frowned, pulling the knot tight. “What do you mean?”

“Firs’ grade,” Tony clarified. “Or second. They started me in third.”

James smirked, imagining tiny five-year-old Tony filling out his multiplication tables in a classroom full of kids a full head taller than him. But his face quickly fell again as he suddenly realized a potential flaw in their plan. Tony may be in college, but he was still technically a minor. James wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to bring him off campus. “Shit, we’re gonna need to call your parents...” he said.

Tony’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Why?”

James raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m about to haul their fifteen-year-old son’s ass off to the hospital? Have you been following this conversation at all?”

“Oh. Jus’ leave a note for the RA.” Tony shrugged, listless. “They won’t care.”

James gave him a strange look. “Of course they’ll care—they’re your parents.”

Tony’s eyes were glassy with fever. “They won’t,” he croaked. “Been in boarding school since I was seven.” A shiver ran through his body and he swallowed hard before continuing. “Got pneumonia one winter and was in the hospital eight days. Dad jus’ paid the school to handle everything—didn’ even visit.” A tear finally slipped down the side of his cheek. “I was twelve.”

James knew it was just the fever making Tony so forthcoming at the moment, but it didn’t make his words any easier to take. As much as James always complained about his own mother’s doting whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he couldn’t imagine being sick enough to be in the hospital and not having anyone there for him. He didn’t know what to say.

Thankfully, Tony broke the awkward silence. “Sorry,” he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his palm against them. “‘M fine.”

With a quiet sigh, James put his arm around Tony to help him back to standing. “You know what? We’ll just call them when we get there,” he said before leading Tony out to the car.

X

The drive to the hospital was uneventful. Tony sat curled up in the passenger seat of James’ old beater of a Chevy Monza with an empty plastic bag in his lap, quiet except for the occasional whimper he’d let out when they’d hit a bump in the road. When they arrived, James got Tony checked in and situated in the waiting room with some forms to fill out before stepping out to the foyer to use the payphone.

James fished the scrap of paper containing the number that Tony had finally agreed to give him out of his pocket. He dialed it three times. Each time, the call was picked up by the answering machine. On the third round, he left the Starks a brief message stating which hospital Tony was at and how they could contact their son, then hung up quickly before he could add anything else he might come to regret.

He reentered the waiting area to find Tony sitting hunched forward in his chair, breathing shallowly and clutching the small kidney-shaped basin that the triage nurse had given him like his life depended on it. “What’d they say?” he murmured. James wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard just a hint of hopefulness in the kid’s voice.

Without meeting Tony’s gaze, he slid into the seat beside him. “They didn’t answer,” he said guiltily.

Tony’s tone returned to flat: “Shocking.”

“They’re probably just asleep,” James reasoned, trying to sound more certain than he felt. “I left a message, but we can try again later.”

Tony hummed absently. Then all at once, he brought the small plastic container he was holding up to his mouth and threw up whatever little liquid remained in him. His hands were trembling so hard that James had to help him steady the basin.

When the heaving stopped, one of the nurses from the front desk exchanged the used basin for a clean one. Tony grunted in thanks, then looked up wearily and locked eyes with James. “You really don’ have to stay.”

James gave a tiny scoff. “What? You think I’d just leave you here to faceplant on the linoleum?”

Tony shrugged a bit. “‘S not like we’re friends, Jim.”

James pondered this for a few seconds before returning the shrug. “I guess you’re right.” He settled back in his chair and picked up a copy of Good Housekeeping from the stack on the waiting room table, flipping it idly open on his lap. “Too bad I’m invested now.”

X

It was around three a.m. by the time Tony’s name was called. He was taken back and briefly examined before getting hooked up to an IV line for fluids and antiemetics. The doctor ordered some bloodwork to be sure, but said that all signs pointed to a virus. As soon as they could get the vomiting under control and Tony’s vitals stabilized, he should be good to go.

While Tony dozed in and out of consciousness on the ER bed, fluids dripping steadily into his arm, James just sat there, silently mulling the events of the last sixteen hours or so over in his mind. It was weird seeing Tony like this—weak, and small, and just so undeniably young.

James waited until the clock struck five before slipping quietly over to the phone located near the nurse’s station. This time, he dialed a different number—one he knew by heart.

A familiar voice answered on the third ring: “Hello?”

Instant warmth flooded James’ chest at the sound. “Hey Ma,” he said softly.

“James?” His mother’s tone changed from puzzled to concerned in two seconds flat. “It’s so early, baby. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Ma,” he assured, the corners of his lips turning up into the smallest of smiles. “Just wanted to catch you before you left for work.”

“Well, you got me,” she laughed lightly. Over the line, James could hear her bustling around the kitchen, pouring coffee into a mug. “What do you need, baby?”

James hesitated a second, his gaze shifting back in the direction of Tony’s bed. “It’s nothing, just… I wanted to ask if I could invite someone home for Thanksgiving next week.” He shifted his gaze back in the direction of Tony’s bed. “I get the feeling he could really use it...”

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