#like. that should be illegal even if it wasn’t bc no one man should hold that much power bro r u serious

[nakamurareia]

dumbledore is a silly little old man who should be in jail

[honestsycrets]

dedication | young!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | young geneticist!miguel o'hara x scientist!reader

❛ type | oneshot, explicit.

❛ summary | alchemax is a dangerous place to work. miguel's new assistant may be over her head. maybe he can help her, though.

❛ tags | virgin reader, f!reader, shitty science, plot heavy, loose canon references, literary liberties, loss of virginity, overprotective Miguel o'hara, jealous miguel o'hara, some objectification, workplace politics, aftercare (as requested), corruption (is it tho?), bc what bc, Spanish is not translated, young!miguel, heel-foot fetish, somewhat romantic.

❛ fulfilled request | can we please have a miguel x virgin reader and he didn’t even know until he was already putting it in?? And then voila his corruption kink unexpectedly growS? @a--dedicated--fangirl

❛ sy’s notes | miguel sort of works on that whole corruption aspect throughout this fic, but i wanted to meld these two ideas together to create a reader who is entirely dedicated to Miguel. This piece was a bit long for me.

“Miguel, your new assistant is here.” 

On paper, you’re an excellent candidate for the genetics program. 

An excellent GPA, renowned company internships, decent publications, and a diverse upbringing. It was all good. Great, even. But as the head of the genetics program at Alchemax, he has a little thing called priorities. Interviewing everyone himself was low on the rung of shit he felt like he should be doing. There was, however, one little, itty bitty, tiny problem with bringing you on board.

“Dr. O’Hara? ¿Estas bien?”

That shirt-- is not meant to hold those-- His brain was left field, glimpsing at them. A slightly sheer button-up revealed the outline of your bustier and its inability to conceal your body. They should have been illegal. He was pretty sure they were illicit in the handbook on his table. He should really read that again. Maybe then he wouldn’t be salivating over something as simple as a co-worker-- He needed to get out of the lab. The bleached walls tightened around him, the space smaller than he remembered. He was going to get caught.

Realistically, the lab was full of witty people. Many of them were witty men with subpar looks and stupider dicks. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. Not only because your lips were plump, painted petal-pink, and kissable or because the depth of your sultry eyes went straight in the dick. No, but because that would be improper of a man of his stature to tell one of the only women in his care that she was too gorgeous for the job you were clearly qualified for. 

“Sí, coño,” He fixed his glasses, crooked on his broad nose. He stood up from his desk and grabbed his lab coat, swirling it around his broad shoulders. If he wasn’t mistaken, you tracked the movement with your eyes. “Do you want a cafecito? Miss…”

You told him your name. He mulled it over on his tongue, lathing it in a gentle acknowledgment. Cemented it in a place he wouldn't forget. You tinked your head to the side, your lashes fluttering when he cleared his throat. Great, just shocking-- 

“After you,” he headed for the door. He held it open for you, plastering his back to the wood. It didn't matter. You slid by closer than he’d prefer, your hand catching on his belt buckle with muttered apologies. This wasn’t going to end well. 

Cafecito is an excellent excuse to pull his dumbass together. 

It also calms his nerves, centers his mind, and allows him to compartmentalize. Whether or not you could hold your own wasn’t his issue, his issue was the necessity of someone he could trust. Ugly, beautiful-- so long as they were efficient, Miguel would make due. The cafeteria was a large and clean space. The many tables were crowded with wrap-around stations for poorly crafted, misery-inducing meals. Miguel paid and took a seat at a creaky table. One where he could see the door open, shut, and keep an eye on the comings and goings of meager scientists and annoying managers. 

“You’ll be working with me.” 

You pursed your lips around the warm cup of coffee, taking a ginger sip. He noted your lipstick stain that remained as you pushed the cup toward the middle of the table you shared with him. This damn suit vest was stifling. He gave you a long, slow look, tilting his head to the fact that you’d not drunk anything. It’d be rude to acknowledge.

“Delgado told me,” you smiled warmly. “He said you’re a genius. I don’t know that I believe in geniuses.” 

Hmph. Delgado, things fell into place. That sycophant knew what he liked. He also knew that Miguel was better than him, always was, and always would be. Miguel offered you a slick smile, convinced he could assure you otherwise if he needed to. “Delgado says a lot of things. I’m surprised he gave you to me.”

“Why is that, O’Hara?” the way his name slipped off your tongue was a hot sin. If only he believed in a god. His eyelids shifted over his eyes, heavy-lidded and dark.

“You’re beautiful. He likes to collect beautiful things,” Miguel tried, curious.  Your nails clicked in succession over the table. A repetitive click, click, click. He would be annoyed too if he were no more than a ploy. A distraction. Miguel wasn’t sure that it wasn’t working. His eyes flickered down, catching one of your palms curling into a tight fist, tension rolling through your fingers and up your arms. “He knows I do too.” 

You leaned in, close enough that he could spot the unique freckles spread out in a crescent moon beneath a layer of makeup on your face. Beautiful. “I’m not here to belong to you, O’Hara. I hope you know that.” 

He was off to a great, fantastic start.

 “Understood.” Miguel leaned back in his chair, a smirk creeping up his lips. Or, believe that you believed that. You spared him any more mincing comments. Appeased by his suggestion, you brought your drink back to your lips.

“Good. What are we sequencing?” 

“Me.” 

You swallowed. “You? You can’t be--” 

Mhm, he stared, lips pressed tightly together. “You’ll code my DNA. Then we’ll splice it.” 

"With what?"

"You'll see."

“Is this your little,” you swirled your finger in a circle. “Pet project?” 

Unfortunately not, he would have liked to say. That information was confidential, and though you worked on the project, there were levels to his willingness to involve you in the delicate flow of workplace politics. Still, you might make a healthy distraction from his work. Miguel took a swig of his cafecito, boring into the black substance.

“Something like that.” 

Having a pretty assistant means things don’t always get done according to schedule. Not quickly enough, not by far. There is a time limit to everything at Alchemax. The quicker, the better. Thus this project demanded more hours of his time. The project was spliced between the work required of him by superiors and you, your quirks, and your preferences. 

Miguel has learned a great many things about you in a short amount of time. You don’t appreciate misplaced pet names. You actually can’t handle coffee because of the caffeine or the sugar. He also learns things about himself. How little he likes when Delgado comes to check on progress because he isn’t actually checking on shit. He's checking you out. 

He likes to weasel his nasty fingers around the door, peering in to try and find out what specimen he’s actually working on. Miguel was much too smart for that. His beady eyes caught Miguel over your shoulder, mumbling up to him about a new finding in tests you ran earlier that day. Your face mask twirled around your index finger, finally free and at a documentation workspace.   Funny, because he clearly redacts information from your well-recorded notes on the daily. You refuse to include less.

“Hey Mike,” he said. “How are things… Oh hey, you. You settling in, honey? Mike treating you ok? I can discipline him for you.”

“As if you could,” Miguel huffed. 

But Delgado spying on you, the way you record progress by pouting out your lips, shifting between paper and your lab reports, was intolerable. Because... well, he has sensitive information on there. Your nose scrunches in distaste, but you bow your head just slightly as a hello. He might be his supervisor, but Miguel doesn’t need one to know why this asshole is in his lab turning his smarmy brown eyes over the way you sit: one leg over the other. You seem to realize it too, trailing your eyes over his gaudy suit to Miguel’s sinewy hand on your shoulder. 

“Stop being a creep,” Miguel complained, “She has actual work to do.”

“Actual work? As opposed to--“

“Yes, what you do.” Miguel spat out. You eschewed a giggle, turning your face over a pristine white lab jacket that thankfully, you had no qualms in wearing. Otherwise, he might not finish any work in the lab at all. 

“I supervise--

“You’re still talking but we’re not listening,” Miguel waved him off, plucking up papers by your side. Your eyes snap up to Miguel’s deep chocolate eyes hidden behind the thin frame of his metal glasses, waiting for a proper response. “Goodbye, Aaron.”

Miguel walks to the door, locks it with a click, and returns to your side. You glance at his white lab coat, fluttering around his tapered waist. He loves the way your eyes look at him with a soft, inviting expression, beseeching him to come to sit by your side as he always did. “Not a fan of Delgado, I take it.” 

“Are you?” Miguel sits with his legs spread, his fingers threading through his thick brown hair. You set your papers down, swiveled toward him. The wheels of your rolling chair squeak on either side of his thick, black boots. His eye catches your thick thighs, squashed between your midi skirt, its atrocious slip causing him discomfort. His hand leaves his thick hair, dropping in unison side by side. 

“I can’t stand being called honey, Mike.” 

“Shut up.”

The days proceed similarly. Days filled with brushing past him as he slides in samples and reagents. He might lose a sample, clattering on the floor, and you always rush to help him clean up. Lunch together, because no matter how late he eats, you’re there beside him. Then as night falls, you stay until he has finished whatever he needs to do.

“Time to eat something,” you slipped into his office. The clock ticked past midnight. Miguel flicked through handwritten pages of information that did not need to be recorded in computer files. You watched his eyes scan over the ink on the page, acknowledging you with a grumpy grunt. Not now, not when he was so close to finishing the last section of the project.

“Empanada,” you turned his palm over, placing the flaky pastry in his hand. Caramelized apple. He loved a good apple empanada. He watched as you walked over to the coffee maker, drawing him a warm cafecito just how he liked it. Miguel dropped his pen, stretching out his aching spine. 

“Gracias. From where?” 

“I made them,” you set down the cup a little harder than intended. The surface rippled, throwing hot coffee drips onto his pages. His eyes flickered up from the pages to your eyes. Without thinking, he blathers:

“That so?” A pause. “Don’t you have a man?” 

“Miguel. With this sequencing project, you’re the only man in my life. Shut up and eat the empanada.” 

“Huh. Good. I like that.” He swallowed the empanada with a bob of his head, his tongue lathing over his teeth for any more of the sweet sugar. He stood up, finding your expression soft, drawn out by a sense of longing that he couldn’t imagine he saw.  

“You like my sad love life?” 

Yes.

“No, we have a company event. A ball,” Miguel chided, his tone gentling as he slipped away from his desk, abandoning his steamy coffee on his desk. He backed out of the doorway, “It’s all Stone’s politics. You know how these things are. I have to go. Come with me.” 

“Is that a request or an order?” 

“A date.” 

I’d love to. Your words were the only thing that made tonight bearable. Slinking his tanned skin into a dark blue suit that cinched everything too tight was… unbearable. It clung to his skin like a second skin and choked off his air. But it might be worth it to see your face-- just maybe. He tracked the fluttering tails of fish behind bulletproof glass, following them as they fluttered away into their rock. He wished he could too. 

“Miguel?” 

“You’re here,” he turned around, dropping the champagne he idly held in his hand. It went forgotten by his boot as you called his name again. His gaze fixed on yours, the slinky navy blue dress caused his heart to thrum through his chest, chasing the sight of your body at his feet, picking shards of glass up with the aid of a worker, apologizing profusely for the mess. A soft puff of breath slipped from his lips as you stood back up, gripping your purse a little harder in your hands. He ran his hand over his jaw, drawing himself back to his senses.

“Miggy,” he husked out. “Call me Miggy.” 

“You look handsome, Miggy,” his name felt unreal on your lips until he felt the pressure on his elbow. Your soft hands slunk around his, cradling him for some security in the face of the large doors. He shook himself back to his senses. Right, there was a reason he was here. “But shouldn’t we go?” 

He should have-- but did he want to? No, not really. He didn’t want to see Stone’s greasy face, let Aaron take a peek at how you looked dolled up, or any of the rest of these fuckers. What he wanted was something else entirely. 

“Listen.” Miguel stopped, his other hand coming to the jeweled bracelet on your wrist. The doors to the ballroom lapsed, groups of older men filtering in and out with their pieces of the night: doting wives, longing husbands, and partners that their wives or husbands probably didn’t know about. “Don’t wander off from me. They’re all snakes. All of them.” 

“Even you?” 

“Hermosa,” you didn’t leer at him. “I’m the least of your worries.” 

He wasn’t wrong. The ballroom was dolled up in lush fabrics, fine china, and a copious amount of food as it was every year. Miguel found the attempt to distract from what really went on behind closed doors at Alchemax a bit cloying. This year the music was at least tolerable. It filtered out into the ballroom in a syrupy melodies driven on by the soft, promises of rich men for the exchange of sex. For much of the night, he could stomach the various men poking and prodding at him about his impending research. So long as you were here.

“Miggy,” you breathed, a hot puff of air against his ear. He leaned down, his hand atop of yours. “Will you dance with me?” 

Dance? Miguel had two left feet-- it’s why he was a geneticist. For all the work you did on his behalf in the lab, including this very night, he owed you the benefit of whatever you wanted. He searched out a quiet area, one where the only disruption could be the stream of moonlight in through a window. You preferred it over the wall of vivacious men and over-powdered women. He preferred it over the atrocity of his footwork.

“It’s not much of a date,” Miguel’s hand slid around yours. He encompassed your small palm with his large hand, the other gliding across the soft, exposed skin of your back. You swayed with him, side to side. He was an awful dancer, but there was something endearing about that. He saw it in your eyes, the glimmer of curiosity, gliding your dark heels against the inside of his foot. Damn, he still sucked.

“No,” you agreed, shifting to take the lead. He followed your steps. Right, back, left, up. Maybe he stepped on your long dress once or twice, too. Shock, he cursed again, stepping over your foot.

“You’re remarkably bad at this.” You settled your head on his chest, letting your box steps fade into little more than the shifting of your hips. 

“I know. Let’s just-- sway?” 

“Swaying is good.”  

“O’Hara,” boomed Stone. But of course— peace couldn’t last forever. Like a bullet through the chest, a voice caused him to turn in startle. His tan cheeks flushed with warmth, feeling cut off from the cover of others. He was dressed in the most gaudy of clothes that almost seemed to match the crooked expression on his pale face. No matter how many times he tried to fix it, it always looked… wrong. 

Stone’s hands came together, clapping multiple times to force the crowd of politicians, scientists, and bought-in participants to fade away. His voice caused Miguel to growl, a low rumbly noise that you soothed with your breasts pushing gingerly against his arm. He could do it. He could handle this pompous little shit-- “And who is this beauty? A new girlfriend, perhaps? Fiance? O’Hara could do with a wife. Settle him down, y’know.”

Miguel huffed out of his nostrils. “This is my lab partner,” he cleared his throat, leaning forward. “For… the project.”

“Her? A lab partner? Ha!” 

Shock. He didn’t have to look at you to know you were insulted. Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing out the tension as you smiled through the interaction, taking over for Miguel. “We have measurable results.” 

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet thing. Now, Miguel, Aaron has found a test subject…”

“I’ll interview them.” 

“No need! I--” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Stone. I’ll let you two talk,” you slipped away, your heels clicking off into the busy crowd. Stone was talking. Miguel knew he should listen closely. His half-formed plan to see what the future held for his research was wafting into the air, wisps of it in his ear. Tomorrow-- test-- can you? Panic blinded his senses. He could find you nowhere in the room, and even if he did, would he be too late? 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, it’s… excuse me.” 

The issue with falling for someone was the scythe of his fear. His position was inherently risky. No matter how many groups of people he cut through trying to find you, you weren’t there. No tiny little appetizers of shrimp on half a skewer. No booze, because your head would swim. Not near the bathrooms, either. He rushed down the steps when he found you, just before the large iron gates, staring up at the stars peppering the sky. 

At your feet, Aaron. His drunken fingers trying and failing to guide the strap off of your ankle. You, of course, sat there staring dumbly down at his failed attempts to do something as simple as fix your damn heel.

“I’ll take it from here.” Miguel booted Aaron out of the way. Who, with his sloppy sloshed curses, tried to win a fight with him. He eventually won out. Aaron slunk away, somewhere up the steps. Miguel wasn’t counting. “You didn’t listen.” 

“Hm?” 

Miguel loosened both straps, sliding his open palm under your foot for one then the other. You gazed at him, sliding the black heels off your feet, tutting his tongue at the blistered back of your feet. 

“I told you not to wander off.” 

“I just wanted to see the stars. Besides, it was just Aaron.” 

“It’s never just Aaron. It’s Aaron and Stone.” Miguel’s eyebrows pushed against one another, recording your failure to listen. You crossed one leg over the other, sliding your toes over his silk tie, kept beneath a vest. He knelt before you, searching your eyes for the right answer. “You don’t know… what you’re getting into. I’m trying to keep you safe.” 

 “I don’t need you to. I can take care of myself, Miguel. Please don’t--” you sighed. “Don’t be like them.” 

He knew what you meant. Like Aaron, peeling off your shoes at the sign of discomfort because you were a pretty woman. Or Stone, who couldn’t comprehend your value as a scientist. Those who doubted you because of your color, gender, or a mixture of the two. His mouth twisted in frustration. He was in deep. Whatever you desired, he wanted to give. It came at a price.

“Are you mine,” the words came out stiff, “or theirs?” 

“Miggy,” you turned the word over on your tongue, willing him to stand down. His dark eyes settled on yours, unmoving. “Why do I have to pick?” 

“You can’t have both. You’ll have to choose. One day.” 

Your mind worked. He knew from the way you pursed your lip out, then in, puncturing its pillowy surface with your teeth. You shifted your gaze to the water, the stream coursing down the unfeeling stone. Miguel's fingers ran across your inner thigh, causing you to gaze down at him. The steps of others on the other side of the fountain, fading into the depths of the night caused you to break his gaze. Miguel offered you his hand, fitting the shoes under his other arm as he walked toward the valet. You took his hand and interlaced your fingers.

“Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” you said, though the words felt thready and thin, nary a whisper. Something in the undercurrent of your voice concerned him. A thread that needed to be snipped, convinced of the vileness of the city-- of who you worked for. 

He doesn’t make mistakes. 

But he left the project code on his desk. It should have been there, yet, the corpse of a decrepit, awful creature withered on the lab floor proved otherwise. Someone had taken it because he was distracted. As a result, someone lost their life... even if it was Stone's doing.

Now, scouring through his papers, his hands tremored like a common drug addict. He supposed he was one, a druggie, tremoring like a shot hungry, Rapture crazed-- 

“Miggy?” 

He snapped around. His gaze melded your figure into one beautiful blurb, even with the glasses on his broad nose. It was your voice, coded in something close to concern. Miguel ran his hands through his hair, long strands falling messily over his eyes and cheekbones. He flattened his hands out atop his head.

“What are you looking for?” 

“The notes,” he weathered a breath. He doddered about the room, throwing a stack of paper onto the floor. They crumpled over the floor, mixed projects, notes on the specimen, but none were his. “Where are my notes?” 

“You’re sick,” your voice broke gently, as if speaking them alone helped. A horrid crack of laughter slipped from his throat, drawing into a long lament as he repeated the words after you. Sick, you said, he was sick. If being sick was the least of his issues, he would have been a happy man. Your steps rang into his ear, heavier than before, painful and loud. He crumpled onto the couch in his office, his hands cupping them. Your soft hands coursed over his chest, unbuttoning his starched button-up and sliding it down his muscular upper arms. “This might hurt.” 

No kidding, needles always hurt. But the instantaneous relief that flooded his system overrode the momentary pain. As your fuzzy figure came into focus, he recognized the drug that you set aside. 

“You didn’t--” 

“You were right, Miggy, about the-- Mr. Sims.”  Miguel gazed at you, leafing through novels of notes with trembling hands. He cursed himself for subjecting you to seeing that. Not quite human, not quite... The twisted look on the poor man’s face. What months of research with one another had offered. He would fix it. He knew the research was on point. It was the application that was lacking.

“I have a copy of your notes,” you murmured as if someone could hear. They likely could. “¿Ay, puñeta, dónde está? Ah! Here, here it is. Your… profile.” 

“You kept it,” he glanced down at the hastily scribbled note attached to the clip. ‘Miguel’s profile’ alongside a soft pink heart. He stopped your hands from thumbing through another leaflet. His eyes traced the dry ink of the heart. His thumb moved to stroke it, catching the sight of bubbling tears welling over in your eyes out of the corner of his eye. The tears slid down your full cheeks, triggering his discomfort to well up in his stomach. Miguel shifted closer, flicking fat droplets off your slight jaw.

“Hermosa,” Miguel shifted his head, cocking his eyebrow. “¿Que te pasa?”

“I should have listened to you Miggy,” you began, inhaling air forcefully through your nostrils. Breathe, you murmured. Miguel's soft hand cupped the back of your neck like a collar. You were happy to be collared by his hand, it felt safe. 

His eyes narrowed, thumb caressing the loose strands of hair at your nape. “You should have. You know I'll take care of you."

You nodded.

"You have to be fully dedicated to me.” 

“I am.” 

“Show me.” You fluttered your eyes, the gears of your mind working to understand what he meant. His hand fell away to trace the bow of your black blouse. He tugged on the knot, slipping the bow loose and running his fingers over your exposed cleavage below. “Take off the blouse.” 

Was it necessary? Some might have said no-- but sex, in its connective nature-- was the ultimate dedication. At the end of it all, that's what he craved: your eyes, your actions, all born with him in mind. With trembling fingers, you untucked your shirt from your black slacks. Miguel sat back, tracking the soft lace of your balconette bra teasing his eye. You loitered for a minute too long, enough for him to lift his thick eyebrow.

“Don’t stop now,” he said. Your knees knocked together, slipping the shirt over and off your torso before draping it on the arm of his couch. Your bra followed quickly after, slipping out of the twisted straps. You skimmed your hands over your breasts, holding them for comfort.

"No." Miguel flicked his fingers, motioning for your hands to move from your thick nipples.  You pushed your breasts together, allowing him to marvel at them a second longer. “Que maravilla... You have no idea how long I’ve waited. Go on, take off the rest now.” 

You suckled in breath, sliding the button of your pants loose. Then the zipper, its cloth scratching your thighs on its way to pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, joining them too with your shirt. Miguel sat up, running his calloused fingers over the side of your hip and waist. His thumbs hooked in your panties, drawing them down over your pussy, a moist spot on your panties connecting a small string of wetness to your pussy. His palm slid between your thighs, pinned by your thighs pressed together, whether out of an innate need for more pressure or shyness to show him how wet you were. Hm. Miguel melded your ass, striking your skin with his large palm, it jiggled.

“Miggy,” you breathed, shy and intimidated. “I have to tell you something…” 

“Lay down,” he told you. 

“But Miggy, what if someone…” Your eyes darted away from his, chewing on his cheek as you slid back down beside him. You settled on the couch, your legs thrown over his thighs. The couch was stiff, hard against your neck. You stole a haughty glimpse at his face, focused entirely on coursing his palms over your calves and thighs, then back down to your slight toes. He ground your feet over his stiff cock, obscured by the fabric of his slacks. He felt big-- bigger than you could have imagined from the look on your face. 

“¡Basta!” Miguel growled, “No one is going to come in. Let me see you.” 

You flushed. 

“You want me to…” you glanced down, your curls were soft to the touch. 

“Touch yourself for me.” 

With your heart strumming in your chest, you shifted your hand down, spreading your lips, soft and wet. You were so wonderfully shy to follow his orders, the pads of your fingers rubbing along your outer lips, massaging them warm and swollen. You buried your eyes into your other arm, dragging up and down, over and over. A delightful sigh greeted his ear, ensuring that though you were too embarrassed to look at him, you loved it. He allowed it for now-- because he was a gracious, forgiving man. 

“Shock,” Miguel shuffled at the button and zipper of his pants, freeing himself from his slacks. He spat into his palm, stroking over his fleshy length, squishing his cock against your foot. Your toes curled over his cockhead, engrossed in Miguel’s rumbling pants, the soft pleasure that bloomed from his chest. Your eyes trained on his lips, the slight breath suckled between his teeth. Your fingers glazed over your stiff clit, pausing as though you needed his permission, just how he wanted it. Your sweet submission. 

His eyebrow perked. “You can touch it.” 

“Oh,” you glanced down, tracing the way Miguel fisted himself, swirling up to his cockhead, along fat veins and the bubble of salty fluid on his tip. His permission seemed to spur something else in you, flicking your swollen clit to the sound of his pleasured growling, your own pleasure growing in tandem with his. 

“¡Ya!” he annunciated, watching as you failed to stop. All at once he stopped his ministrations. A sigh escaped his chest as he pushed himself up, smacking your hand away from your puffy cunt. His cock bobbed between your bodies. You wanted to touch it, but couldn’t.

"Wait," you cried out. His cock twitched as he lowered his hips down, drawing sweet lubricant on his cock, stroking your pussy. He leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a warm kiss. He dipped his hand down, his cockhead prodding and poking, dipping lower with the aid of his hand. 

“MiggyI’mavirgin,” you said all at once, his cockhead nudged against your entrance. Miguel’s head about snapped as he looked up, eyes popped wide open in disbelief. Before he could quite form a coherent thought, your hands shot out to grip his suit vest, stopping him where he was.

“¿Qué dejiste? Say that again?” 

“I haven’t… I haven't had sex,” you murmured. He hadn’t put it together. Your shyness, the awkward way you shuffled around, loosening your bra and hiding your perfect breasts from his eyes. The words were finally out in the open but didn't register.

"A..." Miguel fisted his cock, once, then twice, shifting back to kneel before you. Your eyes fell on his muscular thighs, the way his hand fisted his dick. “You’re a virgin?”

“I’m too old for this,” you mumbled, hiding your eyes with your palms. Miguel shifted to cast aside your hands from your eyes, his muscular body caging you underneath, looking for an explanation. “I just. Between school, work, I never had time.” 

Not that he was complaining.

"No boyfriend?"

You shook your head. He couldn't believe his luck. Not only were you gorgeous, but you were untouched. His, completely and fully. He liked it better that way-- to be the first memory smeared in your head. So that when you looked back on this moment, right now, it would forever be marked by his face.

"It's mine," he blurted out all at once. "I want your first to be mine."

His hand dropped down to your cunt. The pad of his middle finger worked at your entrance as though he were exploring the truth of your statement, stretching you with the aid of his fingers. You were tight, it had to be true.

You nodded, face buried deep in your arm. It didn’t take but moments for him to draw his hand back, suckling the lubricant from his fingertips. You distantly registered his words, “Damn it, you... you don't know what you do to me.” 

Before you could say a word more, Miguel positioned the head of his dick against your slippery virgin hole. You clenched, glancing down between your bodies again, as you had a dozen times, anxiously waiting. Miguel hushed you, the repetitive shushing of his lips soothing you into complacency, forcing your muscles to relax. “It might hurt. But the pain won’t last,” he assured you.

He rolled his hips forward. His sharp exhale shook with every centimeter that gave way. Your walls were forced apart, suffocating you on the shock of adjusting to having someone, no not someone, Miguel-- your Miguel, sinking into your tense body. He throbbed, twitching in your body. His hands fisted in the aged couch, catching the breath in his chest. 

“Ay, Miggy,” your nails dug into his shirt, loose around his firm muscles. “Miggy, no puedo,” 

“You can, you’re so good, eres tan buena,” Miguel swept your lips between his, taking the moment of your surprise to bury himself further, swallowed by your cunt that resisted his intrusion. Your lips fluttered in the kiss, keened out a cry. The pain of his dick, forcing its way through your passage is quelled by the knowledge that he’s here, with you, his girth forcing you apart, stretching you apart, seating himself flush against your womb. His voice was caramelized, sugared over, and so good. “Look at how well you’re taking me already.” 

“Coño, that’s a tight pussy,” He slid his hips back, the warm sensation of his withdrawal pulling free before shoving back in, a cry shoving forth from your lips, filling his office and the connected lab with your cries. He might have heard someone draw the door open, his hips driving back in, centered on the magnificent groans that stuttered free from your chest with Miguel’s careful thrusts. You keened his name, a repetitious Miggy, Miggy, Miggy-- it was Aaron, probably. He recognized the way his feet drug on the floor. 

He hoped he didn’t just hear it. He hoped he saw it too, the way his balls slapped against your ass, the mess of blood soaking the already unhygienic couch, the way his cock pulsed. You were blissed out, so full and well of him like no one else ever had-- because you were his, and his alone. It wasn’t just sex. It was more than that. From Aaron, whose shuffled steps fell out of his office, to any other little bitch in the office who had their own gain. 

“Damn,” Miguel shifted back, hooking his hand around your thigh to drag you back onto his dick. He swirled his thumb against your stiff clit, whirling it around in one circle, then another, and by the third your knees knocked together, bearing down on his cock to hold him still. “I can’t--” you stuttered out, I can’t--” 

“You’re going to,” he hissed. “You’re going to cum right here, right now, split open on my dick.” 

With another circle, you croaked an ugly cry, a terrible, ugly cry that Miguel couldn’t find any more beautiful as your body buzzed around him, tightening and squeezing your already tight cunt around him. Blissful pleasure radiated there, riding his dick for the friction against your virgin walls, your thoughts fading into a realm of insistent pleasure, where thoughts were space mush.

Miguel withstood the pressure on his cock,  clamping his hand down on your hip. His thrusts stuttered, filling your belly with whip after whip with his full hot cum. Your body twitched in the throes of his orgasm. He tracked his eyes down to your body, withdrawing with a bubbly pop of his dick from your abused hole, the intermingling of cum and virginal blood dribbling down your cheeks. 

Your gaze tracked Miguel, pressing his lips toward yours one more time. You shifted on the couch, legs pathetically tremoring. Miguel chuckled and walked toward his electric kettle, papers crunching underneath his feet, “Don’t bother moving. Not that you could, anyway.”

He warmed a warm cloth with hot water, testing its temperature on his palm before sitting beside your crumpled legs, spreading your legs to clean his mess and sooth the abrasive way he took you. He spread your lips, ensuring you were clean before he would flip the cloth, dropping it on top of your vulva. 

“You know you’re mine,” he asked, though it came out as a statement. With another cloth, Miguel cleaned his soft cock of the mess, exhaustion of the sex and what was to come returning to his gentle, deep voice. 

“Sí,” you answered. 

“And you’d do anything for me. Only me.” 

The words were laced with something more than a suggestion, but an affirmation of your loyalty. Your love. You pushed yourself up, hanging off his arm after he tucked himself into his pants. “Para siempre.” 

He leaned down, plucking the bundle with his sequenced DNA information. Your eyes coursed the information on the page, darting up to his tired eyes. You wanted to ask why or what he knew. Miguel knew it didn't matter. You were his now, from the top of your head to the bottom of your gorgeous toes. You trusted him fully. As you should. With the empty vial of Rapture sitting beside him, forgotten, he spared you a mincing smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“Good. Let's fix our project.” 

[anadiasmount]

could you please write thigh riding with jude but like he’s cocky mean about it if that makes sense🤭

minors dni! this is a 18+ post!

thigh riding to me is so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 especially on his thighs, like hello?!?! it should be illegal.

maybe it was ‘date’ night, and you guys decided to have dinner and explore the city with some of his teammates and their wife’s to build bonds and get to know each other more. you wanted to look cute and casual, but also not freeze your ass off, so you decided to wear black tights with high heels, and a simple all black outfit similar to his.

the tights you were wearing were sending and driving jude crazy, making him unable to look away and send chills down his spine. he didn’t know if you were doing this to tease him or simply bc it was your outfit, but he wasn’t complaining. often finding himself running his hand on your thigh and calves.

it doesn’t matter where the two of you are, but jude will have you on his lap no matter what. he was protective and super jealous if any man tried to get near you. but when chatting with his teammates and their wives you find yourself shifting a bit due to it being warmer in the room, jude clenching his jaw and fluttering his eyes closed.

a hand wrapped around your front to stop you, hearing as jude whispered gently into your ear, “keep moving around my lap and i’ll cum in my pants, y/n… these tights baby… make you look so fucking good, so sexy, but all for me right?” when your cheeks burned hot at his confession you simply nodded and tried to get off of him but he tsked and shook his head.

“don’t you dare, we’re leaving soon.”

you tried to focus on what they were saying but you could feel his hot cock beneath you pulse and get harder by the second, refusing to shift or make a small movement even if to others it looked like you were uncomfortable. his fingertips kept running along the thin black fabric, noticing how he spelled his name out and drew small shapes.

by this point you were completely soaked, wanting nothing more to leave and go to his home. when you got there you didn’t say anything, slightly embarrassed and shy at what you made him do. it wasn’t your intention but the way his hooded eyes stared into yours as he walked to you, you couldn’t resist any longer.

your hands went to find their usual spot around his shoulders but he stopped you, pinning you to the wall, and feeling as he placed a wet kiss on your neck and then blew air, making you shiver and bite your lip, “i want to hear you. or else i’m not letting you cum… understand?”

he carried you over to the couch in front of your bed, making you gasp and hold onto his broad shoulders. you felt him place you down, watching as he slowly removed every piece of clothing besides his white calvin’s. “gonna treat you right, drive you outta your mind okay?”

you wanted to ride him, feel him stretch you out as you sunk deeper, but his intentions were the complete opposite. “take your clothes off for me…” he said leaning back and rubbing his fingers over his stubble. you watched as his abs clenched in, his cock erected hard over the white material.

your hair sat loosely on your shoulders, as you went to reach behind you to remove your bra but he shook his head, instead patting his right thigh, you still in your bra and underwear, also the black tights. you hovered for a second before feeling as jude ripped the thin black tights material where you were completely dripping.

he moved your underwear to the side, and slapped your ass, soothing it right after with his hand, cooing at how quick you were to let a moan out for him. “come on baby, if you want to cum, sit on my thigh…” he says kissing along your boobs and then jawline.

your back arched and let out a loud gasp when your wet cunt made contact with his cold thigh. jude threw his head back, feeling how warm and wet you were for him. he held your ass with one hand as the other one guided your chin to kiss him sloppy. “holy shit,” he stuttered, as you began to move up and down his thigh, you letting small whimpers of pleasure out while biting your lip.

“move slowly… i want you to feel it…” jude states, forcing you to make eye contact with him, as you obey to his words. your hips make slow and rhythmic movements on his thigh, paying attention to the way he would close his eyes and his mouth slightly open.

you let out small pants, wanting to go faster but he would stop you, completely sitting you on his thigh and forcing your building orgasm to stop. “i want you to be louder, no one is here with us. i want to hear how good my thigh makes you feel, y/n,” he’d remind you, your underwear now back in place, but he would sneak his hand inside the material, and tug it up gently to where it would press against your clit.

you shivered at the feeling, your clit fully being touched and rubbed, your head resting into his shoulder, “please jude… i’ve been a good girl… please i want to cum…” you’d beg, but he would cocky laugh and press you back down a bit rough, being careful to not hurt you. he was being mean, not letting you cum when he felt you come near your high.

“you can move faster… i wanna feel you cum all over me…” jude stayed to which you quickly replied by shifting your hips back and forth faster, your moans loud as he instructed. your heart kept beating, your cheeks flushed as you watched his facial expressions as you continued to ride his thigh. you looked down at where your slick and wet pussy was riding his thigh, whimpering when his certain vein that always showed when he played or wore shorts, was fully popped out.

“there we go… just like that baby… you’re gonna make me cum too just by looking at you ride my thigh like a good girl… holy fuck…” he growled and came up from his laid down position to fully making contact with your clothed chest. he reached over and removed your bra, sinking his mouth on your hard nipple, feeling every flick and suck.

“just like that baby… keep going just like that,” he tugged on your underwear just a bit tighter, making you shiver and shake around his thick thigh… “fuck jude please keep doing that…” you whined, kissing over his collarbone and neck.

“ohh shit-” he’d let out a few other curses as he came around nothing, feeling you wiggle around him as you had fully reached your high. leaving small kisses on your face and then a long passionate kiss on your lips. “wear tights like that again, and i’ll bend you over, i don’t care where we are…”’

(i hope this was good anon, still kinda new to writing smut 😣😵‍💫)

[bohemian-nights]

i will honestly never forgive them for the whole lady danbury mess in QC. totally unnecessary and extremely difficult to sit through for so many reasons.

but yeah it’s a pattern with the writers atp to put bw in unfulfilling AT BEST situations. “but that’s how it was back then!” well i don’t want to see it! why is it only happening to the black women? and also, there is nothing realistic or period-accurate about this show, so that argument doesn’t even hold up.

i’m still holding out for black Sophie but i’m trying not to get my hopes up. i honestly thought the people latching on to the Michaela theories were just (at least some of them) racists coping with their favorite lead having a bw love interest bc it seemed totally illogical, right? like i thought they’d have to be completely insane and out of touch to actually do it. but then they did.

i’m queer! sapphic/bisexual specifically. i am always looking not just for queer representation but for good wlw love stories with happy endings bc we are severely underfed! but holy shit! bridgerton’s main audience is middle-aged heterosexual women. what the hell were they thinking???

sorry. this is getting into rant territory. i was going to ask you what chance you thought there was of us actually getting a black Sophie but then i realized i actually don’t care anymore and you probably don’t either. Bridgerton dipped majorly in quality this season anyway, imo, so it’s probably best to check out before it gets even worse.

The last part especially because there isn’t anything left enjoyable about this show. It’s quite literally gone off the rails.

I stand by that the ones who leaked this crap and are salivating over this are racist assholes who never wanted Sophie to be Black because all of them have voiced in some fashion or another their preference for a non-Black Sophie and/or how there are “too many Black people on the show.”

They’ve got their wish in part because I doubt Sophie will be Black or even Black-ish now, however, their prize isn’t anything worthwhile.

Making Benedict bi at the millionth hour when Sophie is supposed to come into the picture makes no sense unless you are going to put in a MMF love triangle which isn’t the premise of AOFAG and cheapens Benophies love story since Benedict always just wanted Sophie/TLIS.

Regardless of what they do Jess is a shit writer and show runner(I mean look what she did for Shonda’s favorite girl). Next season is hardly going to be award winning...

Now as far as this gender-bending mess goes, Franchael’s book is very gender specific and dependent on Michael being a man. So there is no way that whatever they put out will remotely resemble When He Was Wicked.

Bridgerton canon has also established that gay marriage is illegal. Not to mention that really isn’t an any reason to change it, in fact it would be be counterproductive to change that considering the basis of their society is built on women being second class citizens and the continuation of the family line through the union of a man and a woman.

You can’t exactly do that in a society that allows two women to marry. Two women in 1815 can’t make a baby either, so I really can’t see how they’ll write a happily ever after complete with a legal marriage for this OC couple they’ve created.

I should say there is nothing wrong with queer rep. That’s not why I’m disgusted and disappointed. There was a way to add it, but they went about it the wrong way

Season 1 they should’ve established that gay marriage wasn’t a problem and created an OC couple or couples which they could do a spin-off or two on or hell made Gregory bi this season(his book literally has a gay plot), but instead they went out of their way to establish that gay people were persecuted and have to hide their love which was only reinforced with Queen Charlotte.

Essentially they’ve roped people in and switched their narrative up all because Jess wants to play self-insert, Julia Quinn only sees dollar signs, and Shonda has severe self-hate issues.

Honestly at this point I feel like both of these decisions were done to keep a Black woman from playing Sophie.

The show has literally gone on 3 seasons without including Black women in a leading romantic role. We weren’t asking for much. We weren’t even breaking it up by ethnicity and saying that Shonda(who is a Blsck woman herself) needs to cast a Caribbean, an Afro-Latina, a Black American, and an African woman. We just wanted someone fully Black to play a leading woman who gets a happily ever after.

Sophie would’ve been the perfect time to include us in this supposedly progressive show that cares about diversity. Sophie’s story is really just spicy Cinderella which would’ve been a breath of fresh air, but that is too good for us apparently.

When you factor in how Lady Danbury in the other Blackish women on this show are depicted, they really seem to have a problem with showing Black women being openly loved, desired, and fought for.

It is what is though. I don’t really care what they do at this point because the show reached its peak with Queen Charlotte. The best days are behind it, but yeah, they’ve lost me as a viewer…

[moemammon]

Could I request HC of MC falling asleep on the brothers and someone asks them to do something but they don’t want to move bc of MC🥺 kinda like how it’s illegal to move if an animal is asleep on you🥺💕 thank you!

I'm soft for stuff like this tbh

The Demon Brothers react to GN!MC falling asleep on them

Lucifer

Lucifer has found that he works best when you're near him. Something about your presence calms his old soul. So it's become a habit that he has you near while he's going through paperwork, always touching you in some fashion.

Today, you were resting your head against his shoulder in the late afternoon, the warmth of his body and the sound of his pen scribbling on paper lulling you into a sense of peace and sleepiness.

He looked over after noticing the added weight against his side, and found you'd drifted off to sleep. And man.... this man realizes just how soft he is for you. Like, can you BE any cuter??? You're gonna kill him.

He feels a warmth swell up in his chest, not only from his affection for you, he the way you seem so peaceful sleeping against him like that. The fact that you feel secure with him, while others only seem to fear him, makes his heart fill to the brim.

But now he can't move, or you'll wake up. And to make matters worse, he just heard a loud ass crash in the hall right outside, and the sound of Mammon cursing under his breath. MAMMOOONNNNN-

As much as it pains him, he doesn't have the strength to get up while you look so content and secure sleeping against him like this. Besides, he can always kill punish Mammon later. He’d just text Beel to string him up from the ceiling until then.

Mammon

It's not unusual for the two of you to chill on the couch together, and he doesn't even care that you're all over him. Actually, he's probably the one that pulled you into such a position.

You're laying on his chest, and he's got his arms around you while he plays around on his phone. And that's when he notices the tiniest of snores coming from you. He looks down and sees that you've fallen asleep.

FUCK does that make him wanna scream. His heart is so full of love that he's literally trembling. You were so.. sO CUTE. IT SHOULD BE ILLEGAL. HE LOVES YOU, DAMN IT.

But then he gets a text from Lucifer, asking him to go back to RAD to fetch some documents. Why'd he have to be his errand boy all the time? Why not Satan??

Mammon is no stranger to Lucifer's wrath though, so now he has a strong need to get you off of him, yet an equally strong need to hold you close.

Especially when you mumble something that sounded vaguely like his name in your sleep. Maybe... it’d be fine to let you rest a little longer? It's not like those lousy papers were going anywhere, right?

Levi

You????? Felt comfortable enough to sleep on him?????? In the middle of a movie he put on????

There's practically steam coming out of his ears. He's short circuiting. He's going to die and it's all your fault. WHY ARE YOU SO CUTE YOURE JUST SLEEPING ON HIS ARM AND YET THE MOE IS TOO STRONG-

Seriously though, he's so red up to his ears that you'd think he might die. The only thing that keeps him from death is that you aren't awake to look at him. He was safe!

But then a notification pops up on his D.D.D, and he suddenly remembers he’s got a tournament to compete in with a couple of online friends! He promised them!!!

Maybe... he'll wake you up? No no no, he'd really die if that happened! You can't wake up yet!! But the game-! The dungeon run-!! The loot!!! What can he do?! There's no way he can ruin this 'straight-out-of-an-anime' moment!!!

Levi's never been one to miss a chance to game, so why was he so conflicted?! Now he was thinking that maybe he could just reschedule the match? Besides, when was the next time he might get to see your sleeping face so close to his own? He wonders if he could sneak in a picture or two...

Satan

Satan's entire room, albeit cluttered, has a cozy vibe. Just the way he likes, as a man who prefers to keep calm and indulge in the wonders of books. And he's invited you over to indulge with him, per usual

Though he'll admit it IS a little late, so he understands that you're sleepy. It doesn't even surprise him when you slump against his arm from your position next to him, the book on your lap sliding to the ground.

As much as it pains him to see the book fall like that, he quickly realizes he can't bend down to grab it, or you'll wake up.

And he hasn't had a chance to really look closely at your sleeping expression, so he has to get his priorities in order. He could get that boom later, anyway.

He laughs at you, and how easily you've fallen asleep. Why didn't you just tell him you were tired? He’d walk you back to your room so you could sleep. Yet you wanted to spend time with him so badly that you pushed through?

He closes his book and leans his head against yours with a soft sigh. Peaceful days like this were all he could ever ask for. He wished he had a spell to preserve this moment forever.

Asmo

Helloooo? Are you even listening anymore?? He was in the middle of telling you about the time Beel ate his entire collection of bath bombs, and you fell asleep right on his lap!

Probably because he was making you lay there while he dabbed products onto your face. "This one is a great toner. Doesn't it smell good? And this moisturizer here is sooo creamy!"

He can't help but notice how peaceful you look laying there, fast asleep. He could just eat you up! Catch him leaning in to kiss you a million times, wondering if you'll wake up.

He's gotta put that kissing on hold when he realizes he has a photo shoot to get to in an hour! He'd need every single minute to get himself ready of course, so he needed to start now. The only problem was... you. On his lap.

He can't get up or he’d be cruelly abandoning his precious MC! And there was no way he’d be that heartless. But that photo shoot was pretty important... How else would he give the devildom its dose of his gorgeous face???

Cue Satan coming in and finding Asmo doing his skin care on his bed, straining to see his reflection in the far away vanity mirror... all so he wouldn't disturb a hair on your adorable little head.

Beel

Beel had asked if you'd lay on his back for extra weight while he did his planks, but he never expected you to fall asleep there. Belphie does the same thing sometimes, so he's no stranger to having to stay still for someone else's sake.

The warmth of your form draped over his back makes him smile, and he wonders if you're cozy laying like that. Wasn't his back kind of hard?

He was fine with waiting until you woke up, since being stuck in a plank for an unknown amount of time would be a great workout, what wasn't so great was the gnawing of hunger slowly starting to creep up on him.

Beel was hungry. Starving, even. And he was stuck because you fell asleep on him. He tried muttering a soft "MC, wake up" as a means to gently wake you, but when you didn't budge, he wondered if he might die like this.

The longer he waited, the more his hunger built. It was five minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty, and then- he lost it.

You wake up to being suddenly dumped onto the cold floor, and you only catch a glimpse of the avatar of gluttony rushing off to empty the fridge of its contents.

He'll apologize when he's full, okay? He promises he loves you, but his hunger is no joke. Promises to treat you to Madam Scream's later as an apology.

Belphie

Not unexpected that you'd fall asleep while in Belphie's care. He had a knack for that sort of thing, bringing the air around him to a sleepy halt and making your eyes heavy with that smooth voice of his.

You were listening to him talk about the old days, when he and Beel would sneak away from their brothers to have their own adventures. Then the next thing you knew, you were drifting off to sleep.

Belphie immediately noticed when your head leaned against his hand; he’d been toying around with your hair and occasionally stroking your cheeks. This was one of those moments he didn't feel like bullying you, after all.

But now he kind of does. You were so innocent, and so vulnerable right now! He could tickle you awake at any moment and you wouldn't be able to stop him at all... Though he doesn't.

He instead looks up when the door opens and Beel pops into the bedroom to ask if Belphie can help him find his jacket. There's no way he’d deny his brother, sooo sorry mc. He hesitates for two seconds, but he's leaving you.

Belphie is a sleep expert, and that includes his mastery of the art of not waking people up, so somehow he's managed to carefully maneuver around you so you're still fast asleep.

Leaves you with a little kiss and tucks you into his bed. He'll come tickle you to death later 💕

[dadbodosamu]

what’s my name? [daddy] || part 2

Stepdad Osamu x Cis!Fem Reader

WARNINGS: pregnancy, degradation, squirting, vomit (nonsexual), cheating, toxic relationship??, age gap (Osamu’s in his thirties and reader is 18), voyeurism, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), cockwarming, exactly one (1) spank, overstimulation, tummy bulge, pseudoincest, mentions of threesome, mentions of double penetration, dacryphilia, breeding?? maybe?, thigh riding

3.6k words

tagging @candy-hime bc i love u bb

part one || part two || part three

You tap your fingernails against the porcelain sink as your phone counts down from five minutes. Each second seems slower than the last and at this point, four minutes and 52 seconds, you’re ready to throw your phone across the room.

“What does it say?” Osamu asks through the door. You want to scream.

“Nothing. It doesn’t say anything yet,” you snap. You take a deep breath and continue. “It takes five minutes. Four and a half minutes left.”

“Can I come in?” He asks, softly.

You hesitate before slowly unlocking the door and letting him in.

The already small bathroom feels that much smaller with Osamu’s large frame in it. You try not to feel claustrophobic as Osamu grabs your hand.

“It’s all going to be okay, no matter what the test says,” he says.

You’re overcome with the urge to laugh, cry, and scream all at once. Of course he thinks it’ll all be okay, he’s not the one possibly pregnant with his step-father’s baby.

Three minutes and 48 seconds.

Your mother was going to be crushed. Her only child, knocked up at eighteen by none other than her step-father.

You bite your lip to hold back tears as you think of your mother.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Osamu asks, pulling you into a tight hug. You want to cringe at his touch but your body instinctively relaxes in his hold.

“Mom…” you say, “she’s going to be crushed.”

“And what about ya? How do ya feel?” He asks.

“Sick,” you answer shortly. “Anxious. Like I’m going to throw up any second now. How could I do this to her?”

Osamu doesn’t respond, just continues to rub your back as the seconds count down.

Your heart stops when your timer goes off.

“It’s ready,” you say, pulling away from Osamu. You grab the pregnancy test and take a deep breath before glancing down at it.

Positive.

You drop the test like it’s bit you. Oh god, it’s positive. You’re pregnant with Osamu’s child.

Osamu picks the test up right as you shove past him to vomit into the toilet.

“Yer pregnant,” he says. You gag. “We’re going to have a baby.”

You wipe your mouth on your sleeve and look at him. His eyes are glossy and his lips are stretched into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen. It makes you want to vomit again.

“Why are you smiling?” You demand. Your throat burns as the acid in your stomach threatens to come up.

“I’m going to have a baby,” he says, grabbing your shoulders. “I’m going to be a father.”

You want to attack him.

“How could you be happy about this?” You hiss. “This is terrible. I don’t want this.”

“That’s not what ya were sayin’ when I was balls deep in yer cunt last night,” Osamu says. “Or any night, for that matter.”

“Do you not care at all what my mom is going to say?” You demand. “Have you thought for one second about anything but yourself? You’re my step-father, for fuck’s sake!”

“That hasn’t stopped ya before,” Osamu says. “I don’t care about that. I care about you and this baby. Our baby.”

Your face softens at his words. “Other people care. My mom’s going to care. She’ll go crazy when we tell her. What if she calls the cops? What are we going to do?”

“What we do isn’t illegal,” Osamu says. “Immoral, maybe. But not illegal.”

“She’s going to hate me,” you whimper. Osamu sighs and pulls you into his chest tightly.

“What do ya want, sweetheart?” He asks, softly. “Daddy has to know what ya want so he can get it for ya.”

“You. I want you,” you say. Osamu squeezes you lightly. “I just want to be with you all the time, daddy.”

“Ya know daddy can’t say no to ya, baby girl,” he says. “We’ll tell yer mom tonight, okay?”

“Everything?” You ask, looking up at him. He nods. “She’ll kick us out. Let’s just tell her I’m pregnant, not everything yet. Let’s just wait.”

“Whatever ya want, baby girl,” Osamu says. “Ya just tell her yer pregnant and I’ll support ya if she gets mad.”

“I need to lay down,” you mumble, pulling away from him. Osamu carefully leads you to your bed, helping you down slowly.

“Can we cuddle, please?” You ask softly.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat first, sweetheart?” He asks. You shake your head.

“Jus’ wan’ you t’ hold me,” you say through a yawn. “Wan’ daddy.”

“Of course, baby,” Osamu says. You move over to make room for his large frame in your small bed. “Daddy’s got you.” He wraps strong arms around you and presses a kiss to your forehead as he holds you tightly.

Your mom comes home to you and Osamu on the couch, you with your head casually in Osamu’s lap as he combed his fingers through your hair. This wasn’t an uncommon sight, and your mom went straight into telling the two of you about her day.

“This patient was crazy, literally! He’s outside smoking a cigarette, meanwhile his blood sugar is through the roof! Like, this man is dead, he just doesn’t know it yet!” Your mom exclaims, slamming the door behind her.

“Hey, mom,” you greet, sitting upright. “Dinner’s ready whenever you want to eat.”

“We decided to wait on ya tonight,” Osamu added, standing up with a stretch.

“You two are too sweet,” she says, smiling widely. “You didn’t have to wait for me, you know I’m okay eating alone.”

“Well, I have some big news for after dinner, so I convinced Daddy to wait,” you say.

“Ooo, sounds exciting! Well, let’s eat so you can share your news!” Your mom says, excitedly.

The table is already set perfectly, plates of your mom’s favourites filling empty spaces and a bottle of her favourite wine in the center.

“Goodness! All my favourites? Y/n, you’re not trying to butter me up, are you? I’d almost think you were going to tell me you’re pregnant or something,” she says, taking a seat.

You and Osamu both let out forced laughter as you join her.

“It’s just what you deserve, Mom,” you say.

“Well, thank you, sweet pea,” she says, beaming at you. “And thank you, too, Osamu. I’m sure you cooked most of this.”

“It’s no problem,” Osamu says. “Let’s eat, yeah?”

“Itadakimasu.”

The three of you fill your plates and glasses, you pointedly turning down the wine your mom offers you. She gives you a look, but doesn’t say anything.

“So, what’s the news?” Your mom asks as she finishes her last onigiri.

You glance at Osamu.

“Mom, I’m pregnant,” you say.

“Pregnant?” Your mom asks. “Goodness, I-I need a minute.”

She steps out the back door, sliding the door shut behind her.

Osamu looks over at you. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks. You nod.

“She’s handling it better than I thought,” you say. “I thought I’d be packing my bag right about now. I think I’m going to step outside with her.”

Osamu kisses your forehead before letting you walk out the back door.

Your mom is sitting on the porch swing, face in her hands.

“Mom?” You call. When she looks up, you can tell she’s been crying.

“How did this happen?” She asks.

“Didn’t think I’d have to explain the birds and the bees to you, Mom,” you tease, halfheartedly.

“Do you have some secret boyfriend I don’t know about?” She asks, ignoring you.

“It was just some dumb, one night stand,” you say, sitting next to her. “Hell, I can barely remember the guy’s face.”

The lies slip off your tongue easier than they would’ve before you and Osamu became involved. You think of every night you’d said you were staying with friends when you were really in some cheap motel with Osamu and wince.

“What’s his name?” Your mom asks.

“Does it matter?” You ask. “He won’t be involved at all.”

“Do you even know his name? God, I didn’t think you’d be so dumb,” your mom says. Her words hit like a punch to the gut.

“It was…” you hesitate. “It was a mistake.” As if anything you and Osamu had done was a mistake. The words taste like bile in your throat. “A dumb mistake.”

“We taught you better than to just sleep with random people. Or at least, I thought we did,” she spits. “At least let me know the name.”

“I’m not going to apologise for being human,” you say. “And I won’t be telling you the name.”

“You’ll tell me or you’ll leave,” she says. Her threat rolls off of you like water.

“Then I’ll leave,” you say, standing up. You open the back door.

“If you leave, don’t come back!” Your mom exclaims.

“Gladly!” You shoot back. You slam the door behind you. Osamu is immediately at your side.

“I’m leaving!” You exclaim. “I should just tell her the full truth, see how she likes that! She couldn’t blame me for it, after all, I’m too dumb!”

“The full truth?” Your mom asks, sliding the door open.

You turn on your heel to face her as Osamu stands between you two, ready for a fight to break out.

“Oh, you’d fucking hate it,” you taunt, crossing your arms. “It’s dirty and perverted and so fucking good!”

“You probably got knocked up by some pervert on the streets! That’s why you won’t tell me his name, you probably don’t even know it!”

“Miya Osamu!”

All three of you freeze.

“Huh?” Your mom blinks slowly. She looks at Osamu, then at you. “The. Two. Of. You? The father?”

Your mom seems to buffer as she continuously looks between you two.

“Get out.”

“Mom, wait, I can explain,” you beg, grabbing her hands. She jerks away from you. “I didn’t mean it!”

“You’re sick,” she says, lip curling. Her face pales as she looks at Osamu. “You raised her, you bastard! From a little girl! Oh my- oh my god, she calls you ‘daddy’.” Your mom’s face turns a sickening green. “You get off on that, don’t you, you sick fuck?! My daughter!”

“Mom, it’s not like-“ She cuts you off.

“Y/n, did he force you? Has he been grooming you this whole time?” She turns to face Osamu again. “Get out of here, you motherfucker!”

“Mom, I love him!” You shout. She freezes and robotically turns towards you.

“He raised you,” she whimpers. “He’s probably been grooming you since the day you met.”

“Mom, he’s never done anything I didn’t want,” you say. “I’m the one that controls the relationship.”

“I love her, too,” Osamu says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I know it’s sick, but I can’t help it.”

Your mom stays silent for a moment.

“I need you both out,” she says. “You can pack a bag but you both need to be out within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Mom, I’m sorry,” you say, wiping away a stray tear. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Give me time,” she says before retreating to her bedroom.

You sniffle as you wipe your face with your sleeve.

“Come on, let’s get you a bag packed. Atsumu already has his guest room set up for us. We’ll be okay, baby,” Osamu says, holding your shoulders. He kisses your forehead before leading you to your room.

Your mom doesn’t reappear until Osamu is already carrying your bag to the car.

“You’re my daughter, and I’ll always love you, Y/n,” she says, standing across the room from you. “But this isn’t something that we’ll be able to overcome. You and Osamu can get the rest of your things tomorrow while I’m at work, but I don’t want to see either of you again. Leave your keys on the table when you leave.”

“I’m sorry this happened,” you say, unable to stop your tears. “I really am, Mom. If I could change it, I would. I love you.”

“I hope you find happiness,” she says. Osamu’s hands land on your shoulders from behind and your mom’s face crumbles. “Goodbye.”

She watches you and Osamu leave the house. The lock clicks behind you as soon as the door closes.

“I wish this hadn’t happened like this,” Osamu says as he starts the car. You nod.

“I didn’t want to tell her like this,” you mumble. “She deserved the truth, but not like this.”

“I love you,” Osamu says, bringing your hand up to his lips. “I’m sorry this happened.”

“I love you,” you say, smiling sadly. “I guess I wouldn’t change it if that meant not having you.”

Atsumu’s apartment is much smaller than your mom’s house.

“There’s my favourite niece!” Atsumu exclaims, hugging you tightly and spinning you around before placing you back on the ground. “Or my favourite sister-in-law? I don’t care, yer my favourite girl.”

Despite how sad you feel, Atsumu manages to pull a genuine smile and laugh out of you.

“Uncle Tsumu!” You exclaim as Osamu passes you with your bags.

“Ah, so I still get to be Uncle,” he says, smiling. It doesn’t shock you with how nonchalantly Atsumu takes the news.

“Of course,” you say. “If Daddy still gets to be Daddy, you’re still Uncle.”

“Come on in, little one, let’s get ya out of the night air before the bugs get ya,” Atsumu says, leading you in.

Osamu already had your pajamas in hand when you walked in. After showering and changing quickly, you join the twins on the couch, squeezing in between them. Your hand ghosts over Osamu’s thigh before he grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers.

“So… I think it’s gonna to be a girl,” Atsumu says, draping his arm across your shoulders. “Any bets?”

“With our luck?” Osamu chuckles. “Twin boys.”

You rub your hand over your stomach. “I don’t really care one way or the other,” you say. “But I want twins.”

“What do ya think it’ll be?” Osamu asks.

“I think maybe one of each,” you say. “But that might just be wishful thinking.”

Atsumu let out a loud yawn.

“Well, it’s time for me to go to bed. I have practice in the morning. Help yerselves to anything in the fridge,” he says, standing up and stretching. “Let me know if ya need anything, little one.”

“Thanks for letting us stay here, Uncle Tsumu,” you say.

“Anything fer my favourite girl,” he says. He leans down and kisses your forehead. “G’night, little one.”

“Night,” Osamu says.

“Good night, Tsumu,” you say. Atsumu stumbles away with another yawn, leaving you and Osamu in the television-lit living room alone.

You climb into Osamu’s lap as soon as you hear Atsumu’s door click closed. He wraps his arms around you firmly and looks down at you.

“What do ya need, baby?” Osamu asks. “I know yer wantin’ something, baby girl.”

“I’m so tired, Daddy,” you say. You let out a small yawn. “I just want to be close to you.” You innocently shift in his hold, grinding against his soft dick. It twitches lightly.

“Ya wanna sit on Daddy’s cock, huh? Is that what ya want, sweetheart?” Osamu asks, rolling his hips. His cock hardens under you almost instantly.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan softly. “Want your cock in me.”

“Yer such a naughty girl,” Osamu says. “Wantin’ yer daddy’s cock where Uncle Tsumu could walk in any minute.” You let out a small moan at the thought. “Oh? Ya want Uncle Tsumu to catch us? Want him to see Daddy filling up yer cute, little cunt? Or maybe you want Tsumu to fill ya up, huh, baby girl? Both of us at the same time, fillin’ both yer little holes so well.”

“Please, please,” you gasp, grinding against his thighs. “Wanna be full. So full, Daddy, please.”

“Such a little slut,” Osamu says, guiding your hips. “It’s not enough to fuck yer daddy, you wanna fuck yer uncle, too? Just tryin’ to get the whole family, huh?”

You nod. “Want Daddy and Uncle Tsumu!” You exclaim. Osamu claps a hand over your mouth.

“Uncle Tsumu is bein’ so nice t’ let us stay here and you wanna wake him up? I thought my little girl knew how to be polite,” Osamu says. Your thighs shake as a knot forms in your stomach.

“Daddy,” you whine, rolling your hips faster. “Close.”

“Is my baby gonna cum on Daddy’s thigh like a bitch in heat?” Osamu coos. “Come on, baby, cum on Daddy’s thigh like a good girl.”

“Daddy,” you moan. Osamu kisses you hard as you moan louder.

“Fuck, yer soakin’ me, sweetheart,” Osamu breathes as you cum on his thighs. You bite your lip to keep quiet. “Ya want Daddy’s cock now, sweetie?”

You nod. You stand on wobbly legs to kick your pajama shorts and panties off as Osamu pushes his shorts down just enough to reveal his heavy cock.

“Daddy, I wanna taste you,” you say, falling to your knees in front of him. “Please, Daddy, you look so good.”

“Go ahead, baby,” he says, patting your hair as you wrap your fingers around his hard cock.

You lean down to lick along the throbbing vein that runs down the left side of his cock before you take the purpling tip into your mouth.

“Fuck, good girl,” he hisses, tangling his fingers in your hair. He isn’t pushing down (yet), but his hands left no room to pull back. You circled the tip, moaning as a spurt of precum landed on your tongue.

“Come on, suck it like a good girl,” he grunts, forcing your head lower. You gag as he hits the back of your throat and Osamu lets out a long, low moan. “Might just fuck yer face since ya can’t listen.”

You place your hands on either of his thighs, signaling for him to go ahead with his plan.

“Oh, yer such a good girl for Daddy,” he groans. He holds your head in place as he thrusts into your open mouth, moaning when your throat tightens around his length.

“Fuck, so good,” he grits out. He pulls your head back and moans at the sight of your swollen lips and glassy eyes. “Tongue out.” Your jaw drops and your tongue lols out. He pats his cock against your tongue seconds before cum spurts out, landing on your lips and in your open mouth.

“Swallow for me, sweetheart,” he moans. You swallow the cum in your mouth before licking your lips for the extra that didn’t quite make it in your mouth.

“Wan’ your cock, please, Daddy,” you whine as Osamu wipes cum off your chin. He sticks his cum-coated thumb in your mouth and you suck it clean.

“Come ‘ere,” Osamu grunts, lifting you up into his lap. He slowly inched you down on his cock.

“More, Daddy, more,” you beg as he slowly bottoms out. “Fuck me.”

“Be good and sit on Daddy’s cock for a minute,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. He pulls you into his chest and rests his chin on your head.

You whine as you squirm around, trying to get Osamu to finally fuck you. He slaps your ass as you fidget.

“The more ya move, the longer we’ll stay like this,” Osamu says. “Now be good and be still.”

You pout as you relax into Osamu’s chest. It was agonising as his cock stretched you. Your walls were throbbing and fluttering around him, desperate for even the smallest movement.

“Daddy, please,” you beg, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I need you.”

Osamu presses down on your lower stomach where his cock was deep inside you. You moaned.

“Feel how deep Daddy is?” He breathes, thumb circling your clit. “Look how swollen ya look with just my cock. In a few weeks, you’ll be swollen with my baby.”

You moan. Osamu’s thumb moves faster on your clit.

“Daddy,” you whine. “I-I feel weird.”

“Hold on just a second, baby,” Osamu says. You gasp as he presses on your clit. The feeling in the pit of your stomach heightens. You almost feel like you’re going to explode.

You open your mouth to tell Osamu when he rolls his hips. You let out a loud moan as your juices squirt out, soaking Osamu’s shorts and part of his shirt.

“Fuck, look how messy ya are,” Osamu growls. You moan loudly as your pussy gushes again and you fall limp into Osamu’s chest, tears streaming down your face.

“Squirted all over Daddy like a good girl,” Osamu praises. His thumb hasn’t stopped and you still haven’t stopped cumming on his cock.

“Fuck,” Osamu growls. He grips your hips tightly and fucks into you roughly.

Your skin burns where his slaps against yours. You cry out as your head falls against his shoulder.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he grunts. The nasty squelching sounds only highlight his words. You moan as Osamu plays with your overstimulated clit.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you cry as he fucks you.

“Open,” He orders. Your mouth drops open without a second thought as he shoves wet fingers down your throat. You gag as you suck on them. “Good girl.”

Tears stroll down your face as Osamu relentlessly thrusts into your cunt.

“Gonna fill yer sloppy, little, cunt up,” Osamu grunts. Your walls clench around him. “Oh, Daddy’s messy slut likes that, huh?” Your walls clench again.

“Fuck, gonna fill ya up,” he groans. His cock twitches deep inside you seconds before he cums.

“So good, daddy,” you moan as you ride him through his orgasm.

Osamu hisses once you’ve milked him dry, overstimulated and sensitive.

“How’d’ya like the show, Tsumu?” Osamu asks.

Your head jerks around to see Atsumu standing across the room, dick hard and heavy in his hands.

“Oh, it was great,” Atsumu says. “Liked that part at the beginning. Something about taking us both at the same time?”

[emiko-matsui]

hello this is my official list of what i think every member of the bau would work with if they wouldn't work at the bau like if that wasn't a reality you get me

——

Jason Gideon: look i know this is technically canon but i truly do think he would be an author and would guest lecture a bit in his later years and like sure he could still write true crime books but also just regular crime novels i think this old man would just like to write

Jennifer "JJ" Jareau: i think she would work inside of the media, not in front of the camera necessarily but as a communicator or similarly inside of the media and the news. however i think there's a possibility of a divergence of path for her, i think its possible she could end up in a hostage situation due to her job in a similar situation like in neon terror and would start working out as a coping mechanism and like genuinely would pick up a (extra?) job as a personal trainer at her gym

Derek Morgan: firefighter. that's it i don't know what to say other than that, derek would 500% be a firefighter. there's nothing else. now that i think about it derek should've been a firefighter from the beginning fuck the bau this is his true calling don't even @ me

Elle Greenaway: similarly to JJ i think elle would work inside of the media but as an investigative journalist. well i think she would start out as a regular journalist but become an investigative journalist after a while because her drive would be too big you get me. also niche but i think that when she was a teen she was like briefly a singer like you know robin from how i met your mother but she would've made angry girl music

Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner: genuinely don't think this punk could stay away from the government so i think he would still work a fancy government job just not inside of the bau, maybe not even the fbi but i so think he'd still be in government. now what i have no idea because i know nothing about the government especially the american government seeing as im not even remotely american

David "Dave" Rossi: now i don't even know if this fucking counts but you know those really fancy shops that are like made of dark smelling wood and is called something extravagant with a cursive gold font and they sell like cigar or wine or herbal products or like mustache wax or whatever the fuck you know the places im talking about. i think rossi would work there and be that old man at the counter who will come up and talk to you and you have no idea if he just works there and is really invested in this stuff or if he owns the place or just a really weird costumer but then he's the one you pay too so you assume it's his but the moment you step out of the store you've forgotten his face and you never want to go back there but you always think about it once a month or something. if you don't know what kinda place im talking about consider yourself lucky

Penelope Garcia: if the bau wasn't even a prospect here there's no question that penelope would still be a hacker illegally and make most of her money from there but i also think that she would work in a small second hand shop with lots of old trinkets and clothes and stuff just because she genuinely thinks it's fun to work there and also the old woman who owns the shop lets her be on the computer when there's no costumers in the store. i just think she would sit there in her cupcake dress next to a ceramic old cat from the 1930s talking to bernice about her grandson while hacking jeff bezos on her computer

Spencer Reid: now it's time for spencer all over the place reid who i think would work at like one of those really prestige but still public libraries where like everyone is welcome but they have like locked rooms with super valuable books and stuff and he kinda does whatever there bc sometimes he gives tours talking about thr history of the building and stuff and sometimes you find him at the counter ready to guide you to the specific book you're looking for plus twenty other recommendations you should read if you like this book and sometimes you find him in a window reading and his coworkers politely ignore he's had his "break" for three hours now bc he guided 17 tours yesterday (only ten were scheduled) and they suspect he mightve slept here. plus in his spare time i think he would do some independent work to keep him stimulated with stuff but that's not a fully developed idea yet

Stephen Walker: this might be controversial but i think stephen would be a guidance counsellor at like a school and i don't know why but he has the vibe and i think he would be quite good at it. maybe he just gives me more official jawbone vibes from dimension 20

Emily Prentiss: i firmly believe this woman cannot hold down a job for her life. i think the bau and interpol were flukes in her reality because im quite certain emily would physically not be able to keep one job for longer than a year. if you mention a job she's probably done it. she's done everything from high positions in government to bagging groceries to leading seminars to breeding puppies. listen emily prentiss is a lesbian ex goth trust fund kid (like canonically yall). i think right now she's working with the lights for a theatre production and she's liking it and seems to have a knack for it

Tara Lewis: this one's out there but i think she would work as a principal at a university (do universities have principals?). but like the one who's in charge of a school but like advanced studies with like adults study after they've already studied if you know what i mean. idk i just think that's what she would be

Luke Alvez: hate to do this to luke but he would simply just be a cop. or like a detective (that's like a promotion for a cop in america right? bro my knowledge extends to brooklyn 99 and brooklyn 99 only). i hope this is because i feel like luke is the serious crime version of jake peralta and jake is the sitcom version of luke. anyway, cop

Matt Simmons: this is my magnum opus but bro i think he would be a podcaster. i think he would do a podcast with kristy. for everyone who follows my blog think justin and sydnee mcelroy but matt is sydnee. i think they would have a little podcast together. after his unit at the fbi (?) got got by linda barnes i think he would retire home and start doing podcasting full time with kristy. this is my hot take

Kate Callahan: because such a central part of kate's personality/backstory is that her sister died in 9/11 i think that kate would've been a nurse. specifically a nurse not a doctor and i don't think it's because a lack of competence or anything like that fuck u no i genuinely think kate wanted to be a nurse and chose to study to become that. her hours would still be crazy but maybe meg isn't as worried about her now

Ashley Seaver: i don't have a lot for seaver but i think she would work in local government more centralised like those guys from parks and rec and yes i realise ive made way too many references that some people might not understand but here we are. i think seaver would do whatever leslie does in parks and rec or something like that

Alex Blake: this is just a formality to have her on here because she's literally a linguistics professor in the show

[epic-sorcerer]

Merlin would have been so much more gay if the writers stayed true to Celtic paganism(the historicaly accurate “old religion”)

Trigger warnings:

Main triggers: talk of sex, homophobia, religion, Catholics, colonization, anti Celtic, murder

Mention triggers: rape and sexual assault, creepy men, gore, insest, toxic masculinity

I will mark the sections with quick triggers with 2 red lines. Below the second one is when the trigger is gone.

_____________

I am posting this on December 21st, as today is the Winter Solstice, a Celtic Pagan holiday. It will be posted at 3:33 PM, as 3 is a sacred number among the celts. Because of the special occasion, I will be speaking on a subject that was important to many of them—homosexuality.

Some stuff first for introductions. Yes, yes, I know this may be boring but it helps with context. This religion didn’t have a name other than Celtic pagan or Celtic religion bc it seams everyone there believed it. This was until the Roman Empire concurred what is now the UK. Since Rome had adopted Christianity—more specifically, Roman Catholocism—they only allowed that religion to be practiced.

———(genocide)——

Once England was concurred in 43 A.D, the pagans were killed and their religion was surpressed. Not much is known about the pagans for this reason. However, we do know somethings from what the Romans have written down. Although, it is biased, as they believed the celts to be barbaric and also didn’t wright much about women.

——gore ——

First, we know they preformed human sacrifice on kings when the kingdom suffered along with some other groups.This could be from bad ruling to really bad weather. These kings died horribly, as they seamed to be stabbed multiple times, had thier nipples cut off, and left to die in a bog.

They had thier nipples cut off because the subjects would suck on the kings’ nipples to demonstrate submission, so cutting them off would fully dethrone the king.

—————

Now, background over. Here’s where it gets good.

Nipple sucking between too lovers or ‘special friends’ was seen as a preclemation of love, physical intimacy, and sexual expression. This, like other types of sex, was seen as something beutiful and sacred. Often, male soldiers would have these ‘special friend’ relationships with many fellow soldiers in groups. The Romans even observed that Celtic men seamed to prefer other males for love/sexual interest over women.

Nipple sucking was mostly described was between two men. Although, we must recognize that women may have been left out of written history. I would also like to point out, this may prove that aromantic people existed in that time, as these ‘special friends’ had sex and were not mentioned to be romantically involved.

The celts were known for their sex positivity and even eroticism because they loved it so much.This is one of the reasons why the pagans and the Chatholics clashed so badly.

Before the Romans really took over, Saint Patrick—yes, the Saint Patrick—started to try to convert the celts into Roman catholosim. He was appalled at the wide acceptance of polyamory(women were aloud to marry however many people they wanted) and homosexual relationships/marriages. Not to mention the celts could have sex with any one at any time as long as it is consensual.

——(Tw creepy men)——

That means no waiting til marriage, unless a Celtic chose to do so. Although we should take into consideration a statement made by Diodorus Siculus, an antient Greek historian, that “the young men will offer themselves to strangers and are insulted if the offer is refused.” In his series Bibliotheca historica. This could mean that either creepy men were comman place, or that homosexuality was so comman and done with everyone, it was wierd to be rejected.

————

Getting back to the Roman Catholics, the book Sextus Empiricus is published in the early 3th century and states,

“...amongst the Persians it is the habit to indulge in intercourse with males, but amongst the Romans it is forbidden by law to do so...”

It also goes on to say,

“...amongst us sodomy is regarded as shameful or rather illegal, but by the Germanic they say, it is not looked on as shameful but as a customary thing.”

For clarification, Germany is apart of Celtic society. So what we can infer is a very serious culture shock in terms of Rome and other places. During Emporor Serverus Alexander’s reign, openly homosexuals were deported.

In early 4th century, Emporor Constaine—the first Christian Roman Emperor—destroyed an Egyptian temple populated exclusively by femme, gay, pagan, priests. The Emproror then went on to eradicate all of them. However in 337 A.D., 3 emperors ruled, including Constantius II and Constans I, who where both in mlm relationships.

An odd thing these emporors went on to do was criminalize male bottoming during mlw sex 342 A.D.. 8 years later, Emperors Valentinian II, Theodosius I, and Arcadius ferther punished this act by killing these men by Public burning at the stake.

———(Tw toxic masculinity)———

I believe this was because masculinity was very important and a man acting in a more feminine role was seen as emasculating and humiliating. For the average man, he had to fight and defend his masculinity. Not doing so was seen as a personal failure.

——————

The last ever known peice of European literature containing a positive representation of homosexuality for 1,000 years was a large epic poem by Nonnus of Panopolis. It was titled Dionysiaca and the first part was published in 390 A.D., the last in 405 A.D..

So yeah, The catholics were very selective in terms of sex. One can only imagine how badly the celts and Catholics clashed. Back to 435 A. D., Saint Patrick began to preach Catholism and around that time wrote in his Confessio. He recounted that he found a boat to get out of Ireland and refused to suck on the nipples of those aboard.

“And on the same day that I arrived, the ship was setting out from the place, and I said that I had the wherewithal to sail with them; and the steersman was displeased and replied in anger, sharply: ‘By no means attempt to go with us.’ Hearing this I left them to go to the hut where I was staying, and on the way I began to pray, and before the prayer was finished I heard one of them shouting loudly after me: ‘Come quickly because the men are calling you.’ And immediately I went back to them and they started to say to me: ‘Come, because we are admitting you out of good faith; make friendship with us in any way you wish.’ (And so, on that day, I refused to suck the breasts of these men from fear of God, but nevertheless I had hopes that they would come to faith in Jesus Christ, because they were barbarians.) And for this I continued with them, and forthwith we put to sea.”

—(Tw very mild rape/sex assault mention—

So, as you can see, Celtic and Catholic ways clashed horribly. Something seen as good and sacred to the indigenous tribes was seen as barbaric and sinful to Saint Patrick. Also, don’t worry, the celts did not press the issue ferther, or else this would be a very different story.

—————

This only snowballed into a much bigger issue much later in medival English sexuality. They were VERY picky on what sex was aloud. Missionary was the only aloud position and it has to be the least pleasurable as possible. Making out and masturbation wasn’t aloud either, as that was also seen as a sin. Here’s a low Rez chart to help figure out when sex was okay.

While we are discussing such a queer topic, I would like to bring up the topic of Anam Cara, or Soul Friends in Antient Celtic culture. A Soul Friend was a word used to describe a Philosophy in which one is not completely whole without thier “other half.” This person can be in a platonic, romantic, or familiar kind of love. Really, all it boils down to is that 2 poeple were made to be together since the beginning of time and will be at thier strongest when they become companions.

There is a Celtic legend that seams to depict a mlm Anam Cara relationship. It tells the story of Cuchulainn and Ferdiad, two male worriors who have known and loved each other a long time. But they must kill each other in a duel. Both are vary reluctant, as at least one of them will have to die.

————(Tw insest)———

Before I go on, it is important to mention there is a lot of debate on wether or not this is homosexual. Mainly because they were foster brothers, but since insest wasn’t as much of a taboo, I do not think this would be as much of a set back as it is today.

—————

They had tried to kill each other each day for 3 days, but they ended up hugging each other and kissing 3 times. On the fourth day, however, Cuchulainn killed Ferdiad. The man then holds Ferdiad in his arms and sings peoms for a long time. Here are some:

“We were heart-companions once,

We were comrades in the woods,

We were men that shared a bed

When we slept the heavy sleep

After hard and weary fights.

Into many lands, so strange,

And side by side we sallied forth

And we ranged the woodlands through,When with Scathach we learned arms!”

Heart companions seams to be similar or the same as soul freind, because of how it’s used. Although sleeping in the same bed isn’t inherently sexual, Cuchulainn then goes on to complement Ferdiad’s physical features.

“Dear to me thy noble blush,

Dear thy comely, perfect form;

Dear thine eye, blue-grey and clear,

Dear thy wisdom and thy speech”

Although this is deeply sweet I would also like to caution that Chuhulainn may have simply been commenting on his healthiness, but blush is an odd word considering he is now dead.

Two male lovers, one dead in the other’s arms. Soul friends, maybe. Reminds me of a certain show..I don’t know I just can’t put my finger on it...

I would also like to point out that because Celtics did not pressure others to have sex, and that a soul friend can be any type of love, I do think that an asexual or someone on that spectrum could live without judgment.Unfortunately, I could not find much about intersex, androgynous, or trans people. Perhaps if I find anything in the future and will make a new post.

In conclusion, if Merlin were more historicaly accurate, he definitely would have been queer. Especially because he is said to be magic itself, it would make sense for him to be the personification of Celtic values. That may include homosexuality, because as previously stated, Celtic men really liked other men.

I’m excited to see what will come of this post, seeing as not a lot of people in the fandom seem to know this. More fanfiction? More fanart? It would probably inspire a lot of creators. So, if you do make something because of this post, please notify me in the notes, an ask, an @ or something. Basically anything but a PM. I would be happy to see/read the creation.

Sources:

Sexuality and love in Celtic society:

Same Sex Celts

Druid Thoughts: of Sex and Druids

Anam Cara, what’s a soul mate?

Sexuality in Ancient Ireland

The Celts, Women, and Sex

LGBT history

Sexuality and love in Medival Society:

Getting down and medival: the sex lives of the Middle Ages

Sex in the Middle Ages

Here’s What Sex Was Like In Medieval Times. It’ll Make You Feel Glad You Weren’t Born Back Then!

General Celtic Society:

Who Were the Celts

Celtic Religion and Belieifs

Saint Patrick

17 Things You Probably Didnt know about Saint Patrick

Confession of Saint Patrick

Cuchulainn and Ferdiad

Cuchulainn and Ferdiad, Gay Lovers?

The Combat of Ferdiad and Cuchulain

Insest in Antient Celtic Society

Ancient Irish elite practiced incest, new genetic data from Neolithic tomb shows

Homosexuality in the Roman Empire

Timeline of LGBT history

Timeline of LGBT history in the United Kingdom

[a-casual-egg]

Discord chaos leads me to write a fic that is based off a crack idea but I’mma take it seriously (mixed with some hcs of my own of course bc I deserve to be self indulgent)

——

“Oh, Edvard this letter came in the mail for you” Barnaby said nonchalantly, holding a letter out to seemingly no one.

“And you just took it? Y’know it’s illegal to open other people’s mail right?” Edvard replies taking the letter, “not that you’d give a shit”

“Why should I care, we are criminals aren’t we Felix?” Barnaby looked down to a black cat in his lap who looked up at Barnaby confused. Felix started to purr when Barnaby scratched under his chin and cooing about how he’s such a good boy.

Edvard rolled his eyes then practically ripped the envelope open before crumbling it into a ball and tossing it at Barnaby’s head, much to his annoyance. Edvard skimmed over the letter his eyebrows furrowing with every line he read. It was another one of Astor’s stupid rsvp messages. Who would of thought Astor with his Edvard’s stupid brother. He fumed even remembering the moment when Lemuel told him he was getting married.

—

“Hello brother.” Lemuel greeted in a sing-songs voice.

Edvard looked up at his brother from where he was sitting, “hello.”

“Do you notice anything new about me?” Lemuel asked, dramatically pushing his hand in front of Edvard’s face.

Edvard looked down at his brother’s hand to notice a ring with a big jewel on it. A diamond at that.

“Ah, congratulations.”

“Why thank you!”

“I must say I never knew you were dating someone. Who is it?”

“Oh yes, he-”

“He? I didn’t know you were gay.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, brother”

After a couple seconds of the Lumiere brothers glaring at each other Lemuel clears his throat.

“Anyway, he said it was best to keep it on the down-low in case it didn’t work out so there wouldn’t be some big scandal in the papers.”

“Some big scandal?”

“Why yes, Amadeus Astor is a very influential man Edvard, he’s in the papers all the time.”

Edvard stared at his brother in shock. His brother with his sworn enemy. He couldn’t believe this. He pushed himself up from the chair he was sitting in.

“Excuse me one moment.”

Edvard walked out of the room and all that could be heard was screams, angry, angry, screams.

—

Edvard was snapped out of his thoughts by Barnaby clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Is that a letter from that Astor fellow?” Barnaby asks as he takes a sip from his glass of what Edvard would assume is wine knowing Barnaby.

“Yep.” Edvard grumbles, “he keeps sending me rsvp letters for his idiotic wedding.”

“Weddings aren’t idiotic, they’re a celebration of love.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just he’s getting married to my brother and it’s just . . .” Edvard paused and Edvard’s mind filled with endings to that sentence. It’s just Astor’s doing this to spite me and he doesn’t care about my brother. It’s just Astor is gonna steal everything from me. It’s just everyone is gonna like Astor so much more than me and he’ll convince them-.

“It’s just, Astor, he’s gonna charm my family with all his money and they’ll all want the wedding when in reality this wedding should never ever happen . . . ever.”

Barnaby thought for a moment before smiling his trademark stupid plan grin as Edvard called it.

“What if? Hear me out. You trick your family into thinking you’re dating someone with even more money than Astor and then they’ll forget all about the wedding”

Edvard stood shocked, that actually wasn’t such a bad idea. Admittedly not very thought out but they could work on that.

“You’d do that?”

“We haven’t had a heist in a while and I’m bored, Eddie.” Barnaby replies leaning into Edvard and placing his head on top of the shorter man’s.

“Eddie? Oh! A nickname! Lovers typically shorten each other’s names and even call them completely other loving terms! Good thinking . . . uh . . . darling! Yes, good thinking darling.”

With that Edvard went off to rsvp. Leaving Barnaby standing there processing the last word that came out of the shorter man’s mouth. Darling. He quietly repeated it to himself, a smile tugging at his lips the more and more he repeated it.

—

“You did what?!” Lilith exclaimed, holding one of Barnaby’s hands in her own and nail polish in the other.

Barnaby reclined into the pile of pillows he had stacked up, putting his free hand over his face.

“I know, I know.” He groaned. “I don’t know I just thought-”

“Thought what? That’d you finally be able to kiss his dorky face?”

There was a moment of silence before Barnaby whispered a hesitant “y-yes?”

“Barnaby.”

“Lilyyyy.” he groaned again.

“You’ve been pining after him for months and this is your big plan to get you two together?!”

Barnaby looks at her with a pained expression. Lilith sighs.

“Barnes, I love you but you’re an idiot.”

“I know.”

“Like a real dummy.”

“Mhm”

“Like a foolish-”

“I get it.” Barnaby sighs, “it’s just,” Barnaby sighs again, “look at him. He’s so cute. The face he makes when he’s deep in thought. His careful actions when he works on his inventions. His mad scientist smile whenever he’s gotten an invention to work.”

This time Barnaby’s sigh was dreamy. Lilith’s sigh was tired.

—

“If we want to come across as a convincing couple, we’ll have to practice.” Barnaby said, hoping Edvard didn’t hear the break in his voice.

“You’re right, we want to sell it but not overdo it where it seems forced.” Edvard replied.

Edvard was deep in thought about the subject, furrowing his brows and pressing a curled finger to right under his bottom lip. Barnaby smiled softly at the inventor in front of him. He wanted to place a kiss upon his lips right then. Wanted to wrap his arms around Edvard and run his fingers through his unkempt raven hair.

“Are you ok with me touching your waist?”

“Huh?” Barnaby was snapped out of his thoughts.

“Like, like this.” Edvard says before he wraps his arms around Barnaby’s waist and looking up at him for his answer.

Barnaby looks at Edvard’s eyes, they’re a brown that’s positively electric. He could stare at them all day. He feels his cheeks heat up. He comes to his sense and looks away, hoping Edvard doesn’t notice the blush on his cheeks.

“Considering you’ve already undressed me before, this should be fine.”

“Ah, I forgot about that.” Edvard mumbled. It was Edvard's turn to look away now.

Barnaby cleared his throat, "well, anyway, I, uh, I feel like you have a plan to sabotage their relationship so the wedding doesn't happen?"

"Oh! Yes!" with that Edvard runs over to his bag and rifles through it.

Barnaby feels his heart sink a bit when Edvard pulls away. He wishes that Edvard's touch could've lingerered even a few seconds more.

"Huzzah!" Edvard exclaims pulling a big rolled up piece of paper out of the bag and holding it above his head.

He walks over to a table and unfurls the paper. It's a mess with bullet points and little notes jotted down. Little sketches being the main point of interest. Barnaby leans over Edvard and examines the crude drawings. One of them on particular stood out to him. Is that Edvard? And him? They seem to be holding hands . . . with hearts dotted around them. Barnaby felt his cheeks heat up again.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Is that us holding hands here?" Barnaby asked pointing to the drawing, not being able to make eye contact with Edvard.

"A-ah, well yes, it's us posed as a couple to trick my family!"

"Ah."

"Yeah."

There was a moment of awkward silence, neither man daring to look at the other. Just staring down at a little doodle of them holding hands.

—

"No! No! You don't get it! He looked at me with those! Those eyes of his! And I felt like I was melting!" Edvard says gesturing to himself and every which way.

"Okay . . ." Zillah replies, "then you looked at a plan you drew out but he noticed the doodle of you too holding hands. . ."

"Yes! I knowwww" Edvard groans.

"Well did you go over the pla-"

"Well yeah obviously!"

Zillah stares at Edvard then decides the lecture on his manners is a waste of time right now. It's just a thing he does.

"And you practiced?"

"Yes."

"Being a couple."

Edvard stared at Zillah for a moment.

"Look. I know what it seems like but he doesn't like me back, that's stupid."

"Hmm, seems like he does." Zillah teases.

Edvard made a few unintelligible noises and looks away. He pauses for a minute, actually thinking about. He feels his cheeks heat up and a smile tugging at his lips from the idea. He gets snapped out of his thoughts by Zillah giggling.

"Sh-shut up!!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! But from what you're saying it sounds like you're already dating."

"We . . . are not! It's just an act to trick my family." Edvard practically pouts.

"Oh yeah? So if I asked Barnaby he would say you two aren't dating?"

"Yes." Edvard stands proudly, arms still folded.

"wait . . . where are you going? Zillah No!"

Edvard chases after the strongwoman striding over to her two colleagues.

—

"Wait, so you're telling me you see this fox hopping and running around occasionally,"

"Yes."

"And no one else sees it?"

"Yes, it's quite troubling, but I've been viewing it as an affect of alchohol."

"So why don't you try drinking something else for a little while?"

Barnaby dramatically gasped but is interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. He turns to look at the owner of the hand, Zillah. Zillah stared at Barnaby for a few seconds, her train of thought finally catching up to her movements. She laughed awkwardly.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt but I was wondering . . Barnaby, are you and Edvard . . . dating by any chance?"

He looks up at the taller woman, shocked, he can hear Lilith giggling but he can't turn his head to glare at her. His face is most definitely red if not dusted pink.

Edvard runs up behind her, leaning on her to catch his breath. Barnaby regains his nonchalance and smiles.

"Why, yes, yes we are."

Edvard looks up at Barnaby incredulously. Zillah turns around to look at Edvard. Barnaby smiles smugly and Lilith covers her mouth looking in between the brain, the brawn and the riches.

"Now, you seem out of breath, why don't we take you somewhere you can relax, dear?"

Barnaby takes Edvard's arm and escorts him to a side room and he flops down on the conch.

"What the actual hell was that?!"

"You agreed to pretending to be dating."

"Yeah, to trick my family, not them."

"You have to be able to get into character at any moment, Eddie dear~" Barnaby teased

"I hate you."

"I love you, too."

—

Edvard slams open the door. Barnaby can't tell if he's excited or enraged. Edvard grips a piece of paper in one hand and gestures to nothing in particular with the other hand.

"Guess what?!"

"What?" Barnaby asked, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

"Lemuel wants to have a dinner party!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Means we can sabotage the wedding even earlier. Of course you're coming as my plus one."

"Your brother told you to bring a plus one?"

Edvard's grip tightens on the paper and he gets quiet.

"W-well," Edvard runs a hand through his hair, "I kinda let it slip that I was dating a rich guy and know he wants to meet you."

Barnaby almost chokes on his whiskey.

"Oh? Now how did thst happen?"

Edvard strode over to Barnaby and the chair he's sitting in and leaned against it.

"Well, we got in an argument about money, and, and I said 'well, my boyfriend is richer than your stupid fiance and everything went bad after that."

"It all went bad?" Barnaby questioned.

"Yeah, he was all like," Edvard adopts a frillier tone of voice, "You have a boyfriend?! You simply must bring him to dinner!" Edvard returns to his normal speaking voice, "then I went 'fine! We'll be there!' so we can't really escape it.".

"Ah, that shall be fun."

"Yeah . . ."

"What's the dresscode for this dinner?"

"Hm?"

"Like casual or am I to dress up?"

"It's like normal dinner parties." Edvard replies pointedly, leaning in more to face Barnaby.

"I don't know what normal dinner parties are in the Lumiere household." Barnaby retorts leaning his face closer to Edvard's.

They suddenly realize how close their faces are to each other. Barnaby's eyes flit down to Edvard's lip then back up to Edvard's eyes. Edvard seems to be doing the same. Edvard's cheeks turn bright red with Barnaby hooking a finger under Edvard's chin.

Barnaby pauses for a moment, looking up at Edvard to check if he's actually ok with this. Edvard gives a small nod. Barnaby's mind goes a mile a minute. He is ok with this. Holy-ok-calm down Barney, this is just, this is just to make sure we're comfortable with kissing when we sabotage Astor and Lemuel, nothing els-oh but what if it is something else? Barnaby's train of thought is thrown off the rails via Edvard shoving him back. He topples off the chair.

He looks up at Edvard about to question what that was all about until he hears a certain cane clicking on wood flooring. Barnaby scrambles up and tries to look casual as Kasimir enters the room, seemingly unaware to what just happened or almost happened.

—

"Ok, ok, we know the plan-" "yep." "We can pretend to be a couple-" "We are a couple" "R-right sorry" "it's alright," Barnaby pushes back a strand of out of place hair and tucks it behind Edvard's ear. Again the two men suddenly realize how close they are to each other.

It's Edvard, this time, that pushes himself up to initiate a kiss. He pushes his hands through Barnaby's hair. They lean closer and closer until-

Just then a door gets swung open and the two men push away from each other.

"Ah brother so glad you could make it and oh! Is this your boyfriend?"

Without missing a beat Barnaby replies, "yes, my name is Barnaby, how pleasant to meet you." and sticks out a hand.

Lemuel takes the hand and shakes it, "oh how pleasant to meet you! My name is Lemuel Lumiere, well perhaps soon to be Lemuel Astor but my fiancee and I haven't worked out that detail quite yet."

Edvard rolled his eyes.

"But enough about me, come, come inside, I'm sure the rest of the family would love to meet the man that's captured my little brother's heart."

Barnaby takes Edvard's hand and follows Lemuel inside.

“You can put your coats there.” Lemuel says, casually pointing to a coat hanger. Barnaby takes Edvard and his and hangs them up.

As they made their way to the parlor they hear a voice that's all too familiar to Edvard.

"Ah honey, there you are!" Astor says strolling over to the trio.

He plants a kiss on Lemuel's head and it makes Edvard's gut twist. He makes an unintelligible noise. Astor opens one eye to see the shorter inventor trying his best to not scowl.

"Ah, Edvard, how lovely to see you~"

Edvard can tell it's a lie.

"That's his boyfriend, Barnaby." Lemuel interjects leaning on his fiancee, smiling up at him. It makes Edvard feel sick.

Barnaby reaches out his hand and Astor shakes it. It's all stupid pleasantries that make bore Edvard.

—

The dinner party goes on fairly well, of course save from a bit of bickering from the Lumiere brothers. Barnaby is introduced to more of Edvard's family and they're all charmed by him. One of Edvard's aunts even whispered to Edvard, "if you don't marry him I will.". Edvard let his mind wander on that for a few seconds, him marrying Barnaby. He quickly shook his head and pushed it out of his mind though, they're here to stop a wedding not to make another one.

Now they're all sitting at a table eating and chatting. Edvard tries to tune it out but practically everyone is praising Astor and he doesn’t deserve it! He bites down on his tongue to keep from interjecting since he knows what will come out will make everyone jump to Astor’s defense. Who knows, Barnaby might even choose to defend Astor instead of him. He really hopes he wouldn’t. He feels like he’d shatter if Barnaby did that.

He tries breathing in and out, just like how Eleanor taught him to when he got frustrated or stressed, but then he hears it, “oh y’know it’ll be so nice to have an inventor in the family and such a great one at that!” It made his cheeks flush, it gave him a headache, it made him grip tighten on the fork and knife he’s holding.

“Oh you flatter me Rose, but please I’m just like every other innoventor trying to make it in the world!”

“Oh please, you’re practically the best one out there, and you make more than enough money to give our little Lemuel the best life!”.

That was it. Edvard stabs the table with both the fork and the knife and pushs himself quickly out of the chair. He powerwalks over to the door and out the door, slamming it shut in the process. There’s a silence for a while, it’s an uncomfortable one.

—

Edvard marches outside, it’s started to snow since he went in that godforsaken house. The snow is coming down fairly hard, almost as if some kind of blizzard is starting up. Edvard huffs, just his luck. He trudges through the snow back to . . . back to anywhere that isn’t that stupid house. With all those stupid people inside it, he holds his arms closer to him for warmth, the stupid house also has his coat. He doesn’t care he’s not going back for it.

—

“What gotten into him?” Astor asks, not to really anyone in particular.

Barnaby sighs, “You . . .” Barnaby gets up from his chair and points at Astor, “ You know exactly what’s gotten into him!”

“you’ve gotten into his head you little-“ Barnaby slams his hands on the table and heads to the door.

Barnaby grabs his coat but pauses as he sees Edvard’s coat.

“He . . . forgot his own coat, well to be fair he was pretty angry” Barnaby thinks to himself, “oh god, he’s out in the snow without a coat!”

Barnaby quickly puts on his own coat and grabs Edvard’s, rushing out into the snow after Edvard. He can barely see Edvard in the snow. All he can really make out is Edvard’s black hair and the red waistcoat he was wearing for the dinner party.

“He’s so pretty in red.” Barnaby thinks, dazed for a second before suddenly remembering what he’s doing out in the snow.

“Eddie!!”

Barnaby runs to the shorter man’s side and wraps the coat around his figure.

“You, heh, you forgot your coat.”

Edvard put the coat on properly before mumbling a thank you. Edvard pauses for a moment looking down at his coat before smacking himself in the face.

“What’s wrong? Or is this some way you warm yourself up?” Barnaby chuckles awkwardly.

“No, no. Did you forget the whole reason we even went to that stupid dinner party? Ugh, at least the fireworks thing works.”

“The . . . fireworks thing?”

“Yeah,” Edvard gestures with his hands, “I had this whole thing with fireworks and they were gonna do a little thing and maybe kill Astor in the process but now we’ll never get to see it.”

“O-oh”

“I feel like you’re not as happy about that as I am.”

“No, no, he deserves it. It’s just,” Barnaby pulls Edvard closer to him, “you’re shivering really bad.”

“Ah” Edvard is pressed up against the taller man’s chest, he can feel his heart beating and his own beating faster than normal.

“Let’s get you home, why don’t we?”

“That’s probably for the best.”

—

Instead of Edvard’s house Barnaby takes him to his manor.

“Here, give me your coat”

Edvard takes his coat off and glances around the large foyer, it’s surprisingly . . not tacky like he assumes most rich people’s house to be like. Barnaby takes Edvard’s hand and leads him to the bathroom.

“You know how to run a bath right?”

Edvard scoffs, “you know I’m not a child right?”

“Could’ve had me fooled if you lost that mustache, maybe”

“Not a chance, dork.”

Barnaby laughs, not like his normal ‘I’m better than you laugh’ but a soft airy laugh. A real laugh. Edvard feels his ears and cheeks heat up.

Barnaby rubs the back of his neck, “well I’ll leave you to take a bath and I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

“That sounds nice.”

Barnaby places a kiss on Edvard’s forehead and mumbles an alright into his hair then heads off in what Edvard assumes is the direction of his room.

—

“Why did you do that?! That’s so embarrassing!!” Barnaby thinks to himself and he takes a pair of pajamas out of his dresser and folds them in a neat pile for Edvard.

“He’ll just put it up to you being sick and not processing things correctly. It’s fineeee” He argues with himself, “is it though? Yes! It’ll be fine.”

Barnaby argues with himself the entire way back to the bathroom he left Edvard at. He leaves the pajamas just outside and makes his way to the kitchen to fix the duo up some tea.

—

Edvard stumbles over to the kitchen and leans on Barnaby.

“You feeling better?”

“A little.” Edvard tiredly wraps his arms around Barnaby’s waist and Barnaby tenses a little.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm, yeah I’m fine.”

Barnaby hands Edvard a cup of tea, “here, this should help a little bit more, being out in that snow like that couldn’t have done you any good.”

“Yeah, yeah, my immune system is fast. I’ll be better in-in-i-acHEW!” Edvard sneezes into the tea and some splatters onto Barnaby’s face.

Edvard quickly puts his tea down and reaches for a towel to wipe the tea off Barnaby’s face. Barnaby haw the same idea, their hands land on the towel at the same time. They look at each other a bit surprised before both men awkwardly laughing. Barnaby takes his hand off the towel so Edvard can grab it. Edvard takes it and wipes the tea off the taller man’s face. He stands on his tippy toes and and Barnaby leans down so Edvard can make sure he gets all the tea off.

Once more, they realize how close they are to each other. Barnaby runs his fingers though Edvard’s hair and Edvard wraps his arms around Barnaby’s waist. Barnaby leans closer to connect their lips. Then Edvard pulls Barnaby down into a dip and practically smashes their lips together. It doesn’t last nearly as long as they want it too but that’s alright. They’ll have plenty more times to kiss in the future.

“Wow.”

“Heh, yeah”

“You’d be a lot cuter if you didn’t look so sick”

“Oh, shut up” Edvard says pulling Barnaby back up onto his feet.

“You were in that snow too, idiot.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the pinnacle of health. Fortescues don’t get sic-acHEW” Barnaby’s retort about not getting sick is interrupted by him getting sick.

“You were saying?” Edvard retorts smugly.

“Oh, shut up.”

[slytherinsnekxvii]

let's talk about lily evans. she's an interesting character—or rather, the case surrounding her character is quite interesting.

i honestly don't know if i can say i dislike her. by all means, she should be a fan favourite, and she is... but for some rather intriguing reasons.

for one thing, due to the fact she's hardly expanded on in the series, certain parts of the fandom have been forced to either take the few qualities that she displays canonically and amplify them to the extreme (eg. immediate righteous anger at the slightest hint of injustice in fic) or create an entirely new personality (eg. no, i didn't actually disapprove of your pranks, it was just sexual tension). of course, the option of creating a new personality is much more tempting when you can just add amplified canon traits on the side.

for another, her relationship with james sometimes seems likes it's being weaponized against snape and his fans. i've seen arguments that go like "haha, snape just wanted to fuck lily, but james got her in the end anyway, sucks to be you", and not only does it entirely reduce her to an object, it feels like they don't even care about the relationship, the dynamics or the characters. she's basically a plot device.

and thirdly, half of her characterisation in fic is to be a peter stand-in. we don't like the rat man, so let's take the pretty girl and put her in place of the guy who was canonically a member of the marauders, even up until he was named secret keeper. suddenly, she's a prankster and an enabler.

but, snek, you may say, all of that is fanon lily, tho. you just explained that people seem to like her because they just put any personality they want into her as long as she's at least vaguely a good person. you would be right.

let's look at canon lily. she's described as the brightest witch of her age, most everyone speaks favourably of her. in fact, the only people we see actively disliking/being upset with her are petunia, out of jealousy and the invasion of privacy concerning her letter, severus, who lashed out and used a slur that also applied to him in a moment of serious distress and apologised after, and well, pureblood supremacists by virtue of her being muggleborn. interestingly enough, even this dislike manages to develop everyone's character more than it does her own.

as a teenage girl myself, let's look at her actions as a teenage girl. not necessarily in chronological order because I'm writing this at 2am and my memory is already mediocre at best.

1. she's done well enough in school to be considered trustworthy and responsible enough to be a prefect.

okay, i can respect that. a good few of the prefects at my school were really just appointed based on how much the teachers liked you, but at hogwarts, there's so few of them that they must put at least a little effort into it, so i'll move on.

2. she does not press for details when informed that her best friend's life needed to be saved by someone who has been publicly tormenting him for years

now, see, there's no reason why she needs to play therapist. it's not her job, she's just a girl, and we know that snape wasn't supposed to talk about the incident, so he would've been stuck if she had asked for an explanation. however, i also feel like she doesn't seem particularly concerned about his wellbeing, and when he brings up his concerns about lupin, rather than ask for proof, she dismisses it. which, fair enough, i would hate to listen to someone talk about the same thing over and over and over, but, i also feel like the fixation on a theory like that would be cause for concern.

3. she dismisses the actions of a group known to play tricks that harm people and have specifically been tormenting her best friend on the basis that they don't use dark magic

first, i'm going to establish what i usually assume dark magic refers to. aside from jinxes, hexes and curses, i also include anything that produces an effect similar to any of the unforgivables (takes away your life, your free will or your ability to feel safe in your own body, such as when you're in excruciating pain), and magic that would require a sacrifice of some sort.

when snape tries to point out the danger in what the marauders do, she insists that they don't use dark magic. and they don't... but they do use illegal magic. she then argues against the company that snape keeps, which, again, to be fair, is justified considering mulciber's done something to mary macdonald... it's also not a particularly realistic ask. snape probably shares a dorm with these guys, and he's a poor half-blood so he's already on the outs. as far as he knows, any dissent will be met with him getting hexed in his sleep. but, i digress.

given that the marauders have been shown to be doing extremely dangerous with little regards to anyone's safety, and actively tormenting her best friend, i disagree with her choice here. on the other hand, she's made her own friends in gryffindor and perhaps she sees a nicer side of them that we don't get to. she's justified in her actions, but i still disagree.

4. she intervenes when her best friend is hung upside down by a spell of his own invention at the wands of the people who have tormenting him for years

she does object to the marauders' treatment of him, and she does try to get them to let him down. if i were in her position, i would absolutely do the same. i respect the decision to stand up for her friend.

5. she does not seriously attempt to help him or punish the marauders

i do not respect how she handled it. at any point, she could have drawn her wand. but, snek, you say, perhaps she didn't want to get involved physically. she wanted to follow the rules. in that case, at any point, she could taken points, assigned detention, or sent someone to get a member of staff. she does none of those things and i viscerally disagree. if we were ever friends and someone tried to hurt you, i can assure you that i would try to at least see to it that they'd be punished, even if it wasn't immediate or by my own hand. lily, however, chooses to argue rather than take action.

6. she smiles when severus gets hung upside down

chances are, it was more than likely an involuntary reaction, like laughing when your friend has fallen over. however, the fact that it was intentionally written in seems like it's mean to be an indicator that the friendship was already falling apart.

7. she comments on her best friend's poverty and uses a name that's been used to make fun of him after he calls her a slur that also applies to him

she was 100% within her rights to be upset by being called a slur. it is never okay to use slurs. the only situation in which a slur could possibly ever be appropriate would be if you were an oppressed group attempting to reclaim said slur which is not at all what snape was doing here. he was experiencing cruelty, being humiliated, publicly, for no reason beyond existing and he was in distress, choking on soap and upside down. it was damaging to his pride, especially when james suggests that he needs lily to fight his battles for him (paraphrasing) which is an emasculating statement to make, especially to a teenage boy. so, snape lashes out with the most hurtful word he could think of, which happened to be a slur that also applies to him. lily was 100% justified in being upset about this, and she retaliated in kind. she was very much allowed to say what she said. i understand that she was hurt and angry and i respect that, especially as i can't guarantee that i would not have been just as upset in that situation.

8. even when the threat of sexual harassment is made, she still does nothing

i get it, at this point, she's hurt, she's mad, she wants him to suffer since she's a teenage girl and teenage girls hold grudges like it's nobody's business, but... i definitely couldn't just stand by and watch it happen. she basically just let them go through with it.

9. she does not accept her best friend's apology for calling her a slur that also applies to him, effectively burying the friendship

she is, by no means, obligated to continue being friends with him. however, if i were in that position, and the apology was sincere, i would take the friend back.

10. she goes on to date and eventually marry the guy who bullied her former best friend for his entire school life

no. i disagree. but, snek, you say, james changed. no. he didn't. we know, that at this point, james was still going after snape behind lily's back. you can say that she didn't know, but that means that she would have allowed james to lie to her and that doesn't sit right with me bc a relationship built on lies is a relationship that is going to fall apart, especially when your partner has been disappointed by your actions before. you can say that she did know, and that proves that she simply didn't take her responsibilities as head girl seriously enough to stop the head boy from harassing people when she explicitly told him not to. the point is, no. there is no way that this would have worked out as a long term relationship. james is too comfortable lying to her. i can't even say she was justified. there is no circumstance where i personally see this as okay for anybody involved.

alright, so, essentially teenage lily was justified in (most of) her actions, even if i find them questionable.

adult lily dies at 21, while saving her son, but her death also helps save the wizarding world. good job. she, as expected, did what any good mother would.

and that's canon lily.

my thoughts: she's a perfect example of why writing tips are so adamant on making sure people try to show and not tell. we were told that lily is meant to be good and pure and lovely, but the author never bothered to actually prove that, so what we're left with a dissonance between what we see and what we know.

as a result, i still don't know if i truly dislike her. her actions are justified, but they don't match with what we've been told, and we don't have any other information to go off of. at best, i can say for certain that i disagree with many of her choices, despite understanding why she would have made them (except for marrying james potter, uggghh, the only good thing to come out of that was harry and the saving of the wizarding world by extension, ig).

thanks for reading all that, btw! hope it made sense :)

[todourouki]

Misery Business | K. Bakugou

a one shot

✰ SUMMARY the one where you didn’t mean to take the hothead away from his girlfriend, but you did anyway. It was nothing personal, you just knew that Bakugou Katsuki deserved way better than what he was settling for.

PAIRING Taken/Pro-Hero!Bakugou & Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT 4.6K

WARNINGS explicit language, mentions of cheating, cheating lol, suggestive language, angst, and some fluff at the end bc I cannot end my fics in a bad way I am weak sorry!

You were not a home wrecker.

At least, you wouldn’t say that to your own face.

You knew that the crush you had on Bakugou was wrong. You know that no matter how it is that you put it, or however strong your feelings are, or even however long you’ve even had feelings— liking a guy in a relationship was a huge no-no.

You weren’t the kind of girl to go around liking a girl’s boyfriend, though. It’s not like your feelings magically appeared out of thin air and now you’re stuck falling inlove with a guy that finds solitude in someone else— no, you aren’t like that.

Your feelings for Bakugou are much more complex, to say the least.

It all started in high school, when just the mere thought of the boy brought butterflies to your stomach with how strong and courageous he was. From his attractive face, to his blunt and explosive personality, you always found yourself admiring him when given the chance.

All of that went to shit when he decided to finally give one of the girls that were always fawning over him a chance during the beginning of your third year attending Yuuei Academy.

It was like you had gotten punched in the face, and now it feels like you’re just purposely getting stabbing in the heart every time you did as much as look at them.

That definitely explains why you’re sulking at your table during a school dance with a scowl on your face so you don’t have to see the happy couple waltz around the cafeteria floor.

All the top Pro-Heroes were assigned to attend the dance as academy alumni in order to ensure the safety of the students (as well as make sure students even decided to show up). You, being one of the top five heroes, were ordered to show up with no complaints.

The song currently playing finally changed from a low-tempo song to a much higher one, and with that, you decided to make that your imaginary queue to take a walk around the school’s building before returning to the large decorated area.

Your heel-clad feet dragged you all the way across the gymnasium, sending kids smiles if they were in your way and simply telling them that you were “getting some fresh air before the real fun starts.”

The doors slammed shut, and the solitude of the hallways engulfed in dark hues reflected against your strained eyes in a way that made you have to physically restrain your hand from harshly rubbing at it in order to make sure your make up stood intact.

The halls reminded you of a younger you (and by younger, you mean two years. you’re only 20 and already have the mind of some old hag) that used to run through these halls with a mini little green skirt and an imagination you wish you could still understand.

They also reminded you of the blond boy inside. Especially the room you stood in front of right now.

Almost as if it was second nature, your body made its way to Class 1-A: the place where it all began, the place where you met your closest friends, and the place where you fell inlove.

Opening the door, the lights turned on to reveal a classroom almost identical to the one you walked into every day four years ago. The desks were positioned the same, the posters remained in the same spot, and even the words on the chalkboard seemed oddly familiar.

The room reeked of new paint and textbook papers, and the only thing you really wanted to smell was the designer perfume clinging helplessly to your body so the odors of a high school class don’t even think twice about sticking to you.

Your body walked towards your old desk, Seat 12, the dress you wore clinging to your body as you pulled the chair out and nostalgically sat down. You were a first year all over again, and the thought made you laugh.

You looked embarrassing your first year— as embarrassing as someone who looks like you now can get. From the hideously overheated hair, to the emo phase you still seemed to sort of be stuck in, the world seemed too easy no matter what bullshit was going on the minute you sat down at that desk.

That explained how you felt now— no matter how much your heart yearned to be in the hands of Bakugou, the minute the cold sturdiness of the chair touched your warm body, all of that disappeared. For once, nothing in the world mattered. More precisely, Bakugou didn’t matter.

“Tch, I knew you’d be in here.” Annnddd there goes that.

Your eyes widened, now staring at a smirking blond wearing a black and white tux instead of the chalkboard you once zoned out on.

His arms were crossed against his muscular chest, and the muscles outlined the button up shirt in a way that should just be downright illegal. His face was gleaming with mischief, slowly walking his way over to the empty desk directly next to yours, taking a seat, and positioning his body in a lazy manner with his legs propped up against the table. Just like before.

“You know, this brings back a lot of shitty memories.” He grunted, stretching his arms behind his head and lolling his head to face you.

You nodded in response, glancing your head up to look at the lights in a way to move the gears in your brain to say something. Literally the same thing you used to do during Midnight’s long, tedious classes.

“Yea, a bunch of ones I’d much rather forget.” You said, looking over at him and watching as his eyes stared directly at the window you always found him staring out of when he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone in class.

“Always hearing your annoying ass mumble and suck your teeth used to really piss me off.” His words were masked with seriousness, trying to hide the playful smirk on his lips you identified much too quickly. With that, a scoff left your lips and you crossed your arms.

“Nobody said anything about the pencil you insisted on tapping for hours straight.” Your jab back made him chuckle, looking back at you with vermillion eyes that made you lose all sense of feelings.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you always forgot what it was like to look at anything before you looked into his eyes. That’s how scary it was— how intimidating it was to be under his presence. His eyes captured you, holding you hostage and probably never letting you go.

“At least we didn’t sit next to each other during our third year,” he began, placing a hand loosely around his tie as he continued to look at you in your eyes, “I don’t think I would have ever focused with the humming you did to the same damn song every day.”

“Yeah, instead of me though, you ended up sitting with your future wife.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID.

It was like word vomit, the snarky tone slipping through your lips as if it was trying its hardest to come off in a jokingly manner, only ending up appearing as sarcastic as possible. It was like the words fell from your tongue quicker than you could punch your own esophagus.

Bakugou stood quiet for a moment, staring at you and knitting his eyebrows together as if deep in thought. Your eyes ended up leading you back to the words Relief Fund written messily against the green chalkboard to save your embarrassment.

You didn’t see the frown itching across Bakugou’s lips.

“We aren’t married, ya know. I don’t know why people decided to start that rumor.” He said, a sigh passing by his lips to quiet his tone as if he was scared his girlfriend was around to hear it.

“Might as well marry her. You’re not really the kind of guy that dates just to date.” Your words struck hesitantly in the room in a timid yet informative voice, and Bakugou watched the board as well so that you were both avoiding each other’s gaze.

“Yeah well I’m not sure, marriage is a big deal.” Bakugou was muttering, and the tone of his voice made you crane your neck over to where he was seated as you stood quiet.

What were you, someone who was basically inlove with him, supposed to say that?

You both stood in silence for a few seconds, the words in your throat itching to escape as the remnants of memories you both had both in class and just together in general filled your vision.

“I always hated this seat because I knew it meant that I would always be the person you would argue with.” You began, closing your eyes and releasing a strained scoff from your glossed lips.

You didn’t know what you were doing, or what you were talking about, but as the moon danced across the pale boy’s face and the music in the cafeteria continued to gently ring through the halls, the only thing you were thinking about doing was speaking more than you ever have.

“Morning after morning, I grew used to your loud voice and extremely hostile—” “HAH? I was NOT—”

You sent him a glare, immediately cutting him off and proceeding your weird speech that just couldn’t let anything go.

“Anyways, morning after morning, I ended up looking forward to the words you decided to call me and yell at me about for the day. It’s like, if it didn’t happen,” your arms moved in an animated way, catching Katsuki’s full attention as he looked on to your rant, “I felt like my day wasn’t really an actual day, ya know?

The one thing you loved appreciated most about Bakugou was his ability to listen. And when you say listen, you mean just listen. His ears were perked up in your direction, shoes turned towards you and eyes watching your movements like a hawk.

“And then—” you gulped, pausing for a second in order to think your words though. It was always now or never to you, the drama giving you a sense of hope against a man like that.

It’s either I bring it up now, or I never get to speak my peace, and I refuse to be one of those people showing up to the wedding yelling ‘I oppose.’

“And then it was here that I realized I was the biggest idiot alive by feeling the way I felt about this one person.” You said, eyes glaring at the wall in front of you blankly as you cowered behind the whisps of your lashes.

Bakugou said nothing, but from the corner of you eye, you could see him staring at the side of your face with an expression you had never really see on him.

“I spent years pining after some dumbass that didn’t even see the genuine interest I had in him.” Your words were like alcohol, and Bakugou was too busy drinking them all in to fully acknowledge what you were talking about.

“I watched him give in to this one girl though,” a lightbulb when off in the boy’s head and for once, he felt like the idiot in the room, “a girl that doesn’t even care for him.”

“Y/N..” Bakugou growled, almost as if he was threatening you and warning you to tread on light waters.

If there was one thing he ever respected about you though, it was that you were never scared of him.

Your eyes snapped towards him, a scowl on your face as you began to feel anger bubbling up in your stomach from the way he tried to shut you up. You were finally speaking your peace and he’s too much of a coward to let you finish?

“You know, I thought the first red flag of her trying to change his attitude was enough. I thought that maybe, just maybe, after her telling him that being number one hero wasn’t really tangible, he’d have some common fucking sense and see what everyone else sees.” Your words were like venom, your eyes not leaving his as you huffed in your seat.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Bakugou’s voice was low and angry, laced with anger as he stared at you just as intensely as you stared at him. Your expression never faltered, and instead, you turned your entire body around in the chair to fully face him with arms across your chest.

“I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” you taunted, your anger only rising in value, “and so the fuck do you, Bakugou.”

“You know she doesn’t give a fuck about you and you know very fucking well she’s only with you because you’re Bakugou Katsuki!”

His name slipping off your tongue brought shivers to his spine as he sat up in his seat and glared at you with the tip of his ears painting themselves a light red hue.

He was angry— not necessarily at you, but at the fact that he was getting called out for something like this. He was getting called out for finally being with a girl and was getting shit for it from someone he saw as a best friend.

“You don’t know shit— you don’t even fucking know her.” His voice began to get louder, the bass in his voice causing your heart to vibrate as you shocked both you and him by slamming a hand against the desk in frustration.

“For God’s sake, Katsuki open your fucking eyes!” You only used his first name when your emotions were high, and that made the man’s hands shake in anger as he watched your outburst.

“She forgot your anniversary! She doesn’t make you your favorite food— fuck she doesn’t even kiss you unless there’s a shitty camera around!” You stood up, stomping your feet and watching as he stood up quickly after you and scowled over at your angry face.

“She doesn’t care enough to remember shit that you don’t like which is why you always end up at stupid shit like this and she doesn’t even care to meet your friends!” Your voice was now loud, the music of the cafeteria being long forgotten as you huffed over at him and slammed a finger into his chest at every syllable you spoke.

“You want to know what I think about her, Bakugou? Bestfriend to bestfriend?” The words bestfriend seethed through your lips like venom as your finger dug itself into the middle of his pecks. He said nothing, waiting for you to continue as his hands balled into fists along his sides.

“I think that you’re such a fucking pussy, you can’t fathom being with someone who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on the way she does.” You growled, narrowing your eyes at his angry expression as you took a step closer to him threateningly.

“I think you hate the fact that I’m right— the fact that she blatantly uses you and doesn’t give a fuck about you, and you hate the fact that I know you so well enough to know that—”

Before the last few letters of the words could slip through your lips, a warm hand slammed against your fingers and snatched it into his grasp as he began to huff in anger. The caramel smell only increased, and you could sense his quirk begin to flare the abnormal heat in his hands up every second.

“You don’t know shit,” he growled, his voice raising as he began to yell at you in your face, “you don’t know shit about me!”

“Are you shitting me?!” You exclaimed, grabbing at the hand that grasped yours with a grip so tight Bakugou had to glance at it quickly before reverting his eyes back to yours.

“I’ve known every little fucking thing about you since we were fifteen!” You yelled, tears threatening to spill down your eyes as the anger inside you finally erupted in a way you couldn’t control.

“Nobody asked you to be so invested in my fucking life anyway!” He retaliated, his voice booming through the room as you stared at him incredulously.

“I was so fucking invested in you because I’m fucking inlove with you, you idiot!”

Your voice silenced the room, the grip he had on your hand tightening as he stared at you with shocked eyes yet the same familiar scowl you were used to. Your expression never faltered the way his eyes did when he heard you, though. You stood your ground.

“It’s so annoying seeing the guy you are inlove with be so unhappy in a relationship because he feels as if he has no one else.” Your voice began to quiet down, a tear slipping down your eye as Bakugou watched you with a slightly softened face.

The hand gripping yours loosened a bit, still gripping it to his chest as he wrapped all his fingers around your bracelet covered wrist.

“It’s so annoying watching you try to force someone else to fall inlove with you, when I’ve been inlove with you for free for years. It hurts watching you try to force yourself to be inlove with a girl you know you don’t want to be with. It just fucking hurts Bakugou, so fucking bad.”

There was a crack in your voice that Bakugou knew all too well from the restless nights you’d spend together, and it didn’t take much for him to engulf your frame into a tight hug as he rested his head against yours. You dived into his chest, the familiar warmth wrapping around you in a way that made a few more tears slip from your eyes. You didn’t make a noise, but he knew that you were hurting.

Neither of you said anything, only holding each other until you removed yourself from him and wiped the tears off your face before he could see the evident streams marking your cheeks. He stared at you silently, as if he was contemplating something.

With timid eyes, he watched you fix the straps of your dress to find something to play with under his gaze. The silence was deafening, and was an unusual characteristic for the boy who always had something to say.

“You know she hates me, that’s why you never bring her around me.” You said, a tone of blankness carrying your voice through the room as your tears dried up and was replaced by the anger haunting your heart once again.

“No she doesn’t, she just feels like we’re too close.” Bakugou retorted, sighing and taking a seat on the chair he once occupied. You followed suit, leaning against the back of your own seat as you faced his body.

“Back in high school, I never told you this, but her and I argued in the bathroom once.” You informed, dryly chuckling as you watched his face contort with confusion.

“I told her that her pretty little face and fucked up manipulation wasn’t going to keep you around in the long run.” You stood quiet after letting him know, gulping some saliva down as you averted your gaze from his body to your painted nails. “Guess I was wrong.”

Bakugou didn’t know what to do. There were many things the man was capable of: he could destroy any villain in his way, was braver than any other fucking half assed hero out there, was smart as fuck, and could manage a relationship as well as being a top pro-hero because that’s just who he was.

What he couldn’t do, though, was fully digest the situation in front of him.

He bit his lip, running a hand across his face in frustration and staring meekly at your face. You couldn’t help but admire his frame as you did before. He was strong, well-built, smelled good, had great posture— there was nothing wrong with him. It was almost surreal.

“We’ve been dating for like two years.” Bakugou’s low voice broke the silence as he stared deep into your now glazed over eyes. You didn’t break the contact, hands rested against each side of the seat as you watched him speak.

“I’ve been dating her for two years and yet...” His words were lost, almost sounding as if he was hesitating the very same way you were earlier. You said nothing though, knowing he would stop expressing himself if you had opened your mouth.

“And yet I can’t help but imagine she was someone else.”

It was like every word he said was the last glass of water, and you drank it up against your skin in a way that brought goosebumps to his. You furrowed your eyebrows, silently signaling for him to continue.

“I never told you this,” he mocked your voice, his scowl still resting against his soft face, “but there was a time where I thought about what it would be like if we were a shitty thing.”

Everyone always assumed Bakugou and you would end up together. Whether it be from watching you both pin are each other relentlessly, to watching you fawn over him, and from just watching your interactions with one another— it almost seemed destined for you two to work out. Keyword: almost.

“Shitty Hair and Dunce-Face tell me all the fucking time that I’m an idiot for choosing this girl over you.” He scoffed, and you couldn’t help but feel your stomach tingle at the use of the name ‘this girl’ for his own girlfriend. “It’s not like I wanted to, you were always my first option.”

You stood quiet. The last sentence was lower than the others and sounded way more vulnerable. You couldn’t help but gape at him, repeating it in your brain as if they was the last words you’d ever hear again. You were always my first option.

Maybe it was the buzz you felt from the energy within the room, maybe you were drunk on adrenaline, or maybe you were just being a fucking dumbass, but the way your feet moved you from your seat to the desk he was sitting at was something you just couldn’t stop in time.

Bakugou hasn’t said anything beyond what he just finished as he watched you gently push his body away and hop up onto the desk. Your body was now inches away from his as you watched him shyly. You were always so obnoxiously close to him, so why is it that his stomach was throwing fireballs at his insides now?

“You deserve better, Katsu..” You lowly began, fiddling with the rings on your fingers as you glanced over at his body through your dark eyelashes. “Does she take care of you?”

Your words hit him in the chest and he couldn’t find it within himself to look away from you. He wasn’t sure what it was, or how you were doing it, but he was entranced by your every word and it was scaring the shit out of him. He found himself shaking his head, eyes never leaving yours as the scowl in his face began to soften.

“You’re a strong man, Katsu,” the way his nickname slipped from your lips nearly made him melt, the unfamiliar feelings he was so used to suppressing caused his head to jumble around and process your words, “you need someone who takes care of you the right way.”

You watched him, a hand lifting towards his head and running itself through his soft yet spikey hair. Bakugou always claimed he hated it when you played with his hair since that was something he thought no one was close enough to be able to touch, but he always seemed to lean into you unknowingly.

His chair scooted closer to the table, your legs now in between his lazily opened ones and his body aching to go closer into your touch.

“What are you suggesting?” His dark voice questioned, eyes staring at you as the once softened expression transformed into another of a slowly rising mischievous smirk. You were sure you were breathing earlier, but now? Not so much.

“Are you suggesting that I need someone else to take care of me?” His words hit you hard, your body facing whiplash from all the sudden changes of emotion.

You looked down shyly, trying to find the confidence you once had that was now lost in the gush of your flustered moment, yet Bakugou’s calloused, warm hand then reached up to your chin to perk it up to face his now standing body.

“Are you saying that you should be the one taking care of me?” He asked, staring at your eyes with more intensity than you were fully even prepared for. Your eyes dug into his as the feeling of his hands on your chin caused your brain to short circuit for a moment.

“You said it yourself, I’m a strong man.” You could feel the confidence drip from his words as you bit your left cheek to keep from whimpering at the intensity laced within the empty classroom. “I need someone to take care of me the right way, and I don’t think this girl is doing it Y/N.”

The use of your name caused you to tug your bottom lip between your teeth and blush behind his words. You didn’t miss the way his eyes quickly zipped from your eyes to your mouth, and back to your eyes once again. His body was now towering over your seated one, looking down at you as if you were the only person in the world at this moment.

Bakugou was out of it, to say the least. Usually he felt as if he had control over situations like this, but even with towering over your frame and his hand gripping your chin, he felt as if you were in complete control of the situation. He knew that his current girlfriend was probably coming to look for him, and he knew that everything was inevitable and he was simply just prolonging it.

That didn’t stop him from sliding his hand across your neck to grip the back of it and pull your face in towards him.

A kiss was the last thing you were expecting, and you would have gasped if his lips weren’t putting you in such a trance. It was like everything had stopped, time stopped, the dance stopped, everything was just on a hiatus.

His tongue danced against yours in a way that made you whimper lowly into his touch. His hands explored your body, rubbing against you in exasperated motions as you reciprocated by rubbing your hands across his chest, shoulders, and waist. It was like you were both doing the last thing you’d do before the world came to an end.

His lips moved feverishly across your own as tilted your head upwards to get a more comfortable position. A warm yet equally rough hand snaked it’s way back onto your neck and gripped your throat with such possession, you felt a tingle reach your lower half.

The intensity of the make out was one that put every other sound to shame as the room was filled with nothing but the small whimpers coming from either of you and the sound of your lips smacking against his. It was like a dream, and Bakugou couldn’t control himself any longer as he groaned into your touch.

It wasn’t until a gasp broke the seductive silence within the room, as well as pushed the two of you apart only to see his girlfriend staring at the two of you with wide eyes and a fizzy drink in both of her hands., that you realized something.

Shit just got really fucking complicated.

—

back to masterlist

I wanna have an angsty kiss moment with bakugou

>:( damnit anyways yeah like, reblog, comment, follow! thanks for reading! don’t forget to send some requests in <3

- heilly

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥Now & Forever🔥

A/N: RIGHT HERE, STEP RIGHT UP FOR SOME ANGSTY SHIT PEOPLE, BC I APPARENTLY HATE MY OWN HEART. Okay, it’s not all angsty, it gets fluffier towards the end but this one is pretty heavy so be prepared! Inspired by the absolutely fantastic @ackermans-freedom-inc​! Go check out their stories if you haven’t already, they are definitely one of my favorites and they are super talented, hence why I was inspired to write this based on one of their fics! Enjoy!

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Tongues & Teeth” By: The Crane Wives 🐉

~~~

(Y/N) suppressed her giggles behind her hand as Levi pressed more kisses to her stomach, humming in contentment as he nuzzled her skin. Shocked wouldn’t even begin to describe how she was feeling, watching her normally stoic husband act so soft. He had always lowered his walls around her, his wife, the one person he felt comfortable being vulnerable around, but he had never shown this much emotion. It was like she was looking at a whole new man, a smile spreading across her lips until they ached as pride filled her chest at how far he had come.

When (Y/N) had first met Levi all those years ago, he was a thug. A criminal who couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old, fighting to survive in a world that had spat on him from day one. She had been out walking her dog that day, enjoying the cool autumn breeze as she had rewarded herself with a couple of hours to relax after acing an exam she had taken earlier that morning. It was her dog that had noticed him first, a handsome black labrador she called Caspian, his ears perked up and a low growl in his throat as the boy who looked to be around her age had stalked towards them, constantly checking over his shoulder as the sirens from distant police cars had wailed louder and louder.

(Y/N) had noticed the look of panic on the boy’s face when the cars had rounded the corner, his face paling even more than it already had been. She had been able to tell he was probably dangerous, had obviously done something illegal, but something about the fear in his expression had twisted her insides more than the knife he could have possibly had and used against her ever would. Making her decision, (Y/N) hadn’t hesitated when he sped by, trying to outrun the cars before they saw him. She had reached out and grabbed his arm, spinning him away from the road and grabbing his coat, simultaneously handing him Caspian’s leash.

“Hey babe, I’m cold, could I borrow your jacket? Thanks!”

She had been impressed that despite his shock, he had managed to shake it off and nod woodenly, playing the part as he had grabbed ahold of Caspian’s leash and shrugged off the rest of his jacket. The cars had sped by, completely ignoring the couple on the sidewalk as (Y/N) had slipped into his jacket and leaned into his body, humming happily and thanking him with a sappy look on her face. It had only been when the police had rounded the corner that she had let him go, grabbing her dog back from him but keeping his jacket draped over her shoulders.

“Why did you do that?”

“You just looked like you needed a break.”

Ever since then, the pair had been inseparable, meeting together more and more until they eventually confessed to each other. Afterwards, (Y/N) helped build Levi up, allowing him to actually make a life for himself and giving him the chance to open up when the emotions he had were too intense for his mask to hide. He was lucky he had so many skills from his time on the streets, allowing (Y/N) to give genuine recommendations to jobs for Levi, until he finally got hired at a restaurant as a waiter despite his complete lack of job experience.

From there, he was able to climb his way to the top, earning his own money and scraping together any job experience he could get until he was finally able to get the education he needed at a reputable university, getting a degree in business and marketing before starting his own company. (Y/N) had continued with her own degree, working to become a criminologist so she could continue to help people just like Levi. Despite their busy lives  and completely different worlds, Levi had never forgotten the girl who had given him his start in life and (Y/N) had never forgotten the bad boy who never left her bored or neglected, life always an adventure when she was with Levi, the two getting married a few years after they both had stable jobs working for their respective careers.

More kisses fluttering against her skin brought her out of her thoughts, another smile flashing on her face as she looked down to see Levi pressing his face against her abdomen, his arms looped around her waist as she leaned back into the headboard of their bed.

“Levi,” (Y/N) giggled when he started murmuring soft words of love to her stomach. “There isn’t even anything there yet, not really, it’s only been a few weeks.”

“I know,” Levi said against her still flat stomach, his husky words sending sparks along her spine. “But it’s still something. I just…, I don’t know, I guess I’m just happy to finally have a family.”

(Y/N) was a pile of goo at his sheepish confession, running her fingers through his soft raven locks as she sighed happily. “I’m really excited too, Levi, and I’m happy you’re happy.”

“Oh, I am,” Levi purred, making (Y/N) shift as his deep voice made her core melt. “I’m scared, really scared of fucking this up, or something going wrong, but I’m really happy. Thank you.”

(Y/N) leaned down and he met her half way to give her a warm kiss, her fingers lightly scratching his scalp as he sat up more to better tangle his tongue with hers. Her soft laugh at his enthusiasm quickly turned into a choked out moan, her hands tightening in his hair as he crawled to his knees, pressing her back against the headboard.

“Hmm? What’s this?” (Y/N) asked coyly, breaking the kiss and using one hand to run her fingers down his chest, teasing just shy of his groin before trailing them back up, smiling at the half-hearted glare he threw her.

“I was just thinking…” Levi murmured, leaning in for another kiss. “That I should show some appreciation for my beautiful wife,” he kissed her again. “A reward for this wonderful gift she has given me.”

“Oh?” (Y/N) said breathily. “And what if I wanted to give my amazing husband a reward for all of his hard work? I didn’t create this baby on my own, you know.”

Levi gave a low, keening moan at the feeling of her sucking on a spot just below his ear, closing his eyes and gripping her waist tighter when she started circling her finger around the arousal growing in his pants.

“I think,” he panted. “I have a solution that will work for both of us.”

“Oh yeah?” (Y/N) asked cheekily, biting her lip when she felt his hands leave her waist to creep under her shirt, his rough, warm palms cupping her soft breasts. “Why don’t you show me what it is?”

Levi gave a wicked smile. “With pleasure.”

__________________________

Levi didn’t know what time it was, only that it was late, going by the darkness that still filled their room despite the opened shades, but he found he didn’t even have time to think about it as he felt the cool edge of a blade against his throat. He didn’t even have to open his eyes to know what it was, the feeling ingrained in him from his days as an orphaned boy on the streets. His entire body froze but he kept his eyes closed, not wanting to give his attacker any further reason to sink the blade deeper into his throat. He felt a few tiny drops of blood seep from where the knife rested against his skin, and resisted swallowing to keep from rubbing against the sharp edge.

Without thinking, his left hand immediately flew out to lay across (Y/N)’s body, not caring about anything but protecting his wife to the best of his ability, even with a knife to his throat. While he’d like to avoid it, he knew he’d gladly die to save her, even if that meant never getting to meet the little bundle of joy he had been eagerly waiting for ever since (Y/N) had told him, tears in her eyes while she beamed at him.

“Thought you could keep me pinned down forever, huh?”

That voice, filled with a seething fire, coupled with the feeling of his arm hitting nothing but thin air and empty sheets hit him simultaneously, his eyes flying open to see the face of his wife hovering over him, one hand holding the knife to his throat while the other was holding a sheet against her body, hiding her naked form.

“(Y/N)? What the hell?” Levi managed to spit out, trying to wrap his brain around the situation.

“What? Didn’t think I was strong enough to fool you? I can’t remember what happened last night, but that doesn’t mean I’m too confused to defend myself.”

“Defend yourself? (Y/N), what are you talking about? Defend yourself from who? Me? I’m your husband, why would I-”

“You are not my husband, I’m not married. Don’t try to fool me with some cheap ass tricks. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Levi flinched at the pure hatred in her voice, but forced himself to stay calm. Something was obviously wrong, but he wasn’t going to get any answers by panicking.

“(Y/N), it’s me, damn it! It’s Levi! We’ve known each other since we were teenagers, we’ve been married for four years and we are having-”

“I said to stop pulling that cheap shit on me!” (Y/N) screamed at him, her teeth gritted as she pressed the knife ever closer to his throat. Levi’s breath hitched as he fought the tears back, but he was fighting a losing battle. What was going on? Why was she acting like this? They had had their fights just like any other couple, but she had never screamed at him like this, like she loathed him with every fiber of her being.

“It’s not a trick, (Y/N), I love you!”

“You can’t love someone you pulled out of a bar for a quick fuck,” (Y/N) spat. “Was that what happened? Or did you break into my house and knock me out when I wasn’t looking? Or did you drug me? Get me to trust you just enough to drink something you gave me before dragging me to your house to use as you please?”

“(Y/N), I would never use you-”

“Then what the hell do you suggest happened!?” (Y/N) shouted, her voice cracking a little as she spoke. “I’m not an idiot, I can feel the aching between my legs, the bites on my neck, the dried spend on my inner thighs. Not to mention, I woke up naked. What? You just wanted to bring me to your bed, strip me down, and then watch me sleep? You had no desire for sex at all when you brought a strange, unconscious woman into your house and ripped her clothes off?”

Her voice was starting to shake now, her breathing heavy and tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She still had that fiery look, like she wanted to kill him, but she was starting to lose her composure. Her whole body shook, and she had to keep readjusting her grip on the sheet she held to her naked form, the cloth slipping from the sweat that was starting to coat her palms.

“You can lie all you want, make up this bullshit about how we’re happily married and I’m just delusional, but I won’t fall for it. You’re a fucking monster, you know that? I didn’t ask for this, to be taken advantage of when I was incapable of making my own decisions or protecting myself. If I wouldn’t go to jail for it, I’d send you back to the hell you came from right now,” (Y/N) pressed the blade slightly deeper into his skin as she spoke, her eyes glittering with fury and a desperate sadness.

But no matter how far she sank that knife into him, it was the words she spoke that stabbed him deeper, sinking into his heart and twisting it until he almost couldn’t contain the will to cry out. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably now, his expression displaying his need for a solution, anything to make this nightmare end. Not just for himself, but for (Y/N). He absolutely loathed the idea of her thinking he’d ever do anything to her that she was uncomfortable with, but he hated the idea of her thinking it was real more. If she truly believed he had assaulted her, used her for himself, that could prove to be more traumatic than anything he was dealing with currently.

“(Y/N), I-”

“How the fuck do you know my name? You keep saying it, did I tell you before I was knocked out?”

“(Y/N), listen, you were never knocked out! I know your name because I’m your husband! You have to believe me! I would never hurt you, never!”

“I warned you,” (Y/N) said, leaning so close to him he could feel her breath hitting his face, her fingers twitching on the handle of the knife as if she were fighting the urge to slide it across his throat and end this once and for all. “Not to tell me this fucking story all over again. I would remember if I was married, that’s not something you just forget overnight. I don’t really care about what happened to lead up to this, the point is that you did what you did, and now you’re going to pay for it.”

Levi didn’t know what was going on, but he knew he had to do something before things got even worse. Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of what he was going to have to do, Levi closed his eyes and brought his knee up, hitting her ass and sending her flying forward. Tilting his neck to avoid the bite of the blade, he used her state of unbalance to knock her off of him, flying out of bed and slamming the door to their bedroom behind him. He held the door closed as she pulled and pounded against it, whimpering quietly with every scream of hatred she spewed at him. Reaching over, he managed to grab a nearby chair and used it to jam the door shut, confident she couldn’t get out. He thought about the windows but knew she wouldn’t be able to escape through them, their bedroom on the top floor of their house too high off the ground for her to jump or even climb down safely.

His hands were shaking as he quickly dialed the numbers of his two closest friends, not even apologizing for the late hour as he quickly explained the situation to both of them. He hoped that with Hanji’s medical experience as a doctor and Erwin’s experience as a detective they would be able to shed some light on what could possibly be going on with his beloved wife. Hanging up at their promises to come immediately, Levi slumped against the door to their bedroom, his head in his hands as he finally let himself cry.

___________________________

Transient Global Amnesia. Levi stopped breathing as Hanji gently placed a hand on his shoulder, sitting him down in a nearby chair. It was nothing more than a sudden, spontaneous bout of amnesia that wasn’t triggered by a stroke or neurological disorder. There was no real cure for it and while it tended to only be temporary, that wasn’t always the case. He swallowed hard, fighting the urge to pass out.

“How is she?”

“She’s… coping.”

Levi visibly cringed at Hanji’s words, and while the friend part of the brunette almost immediately regretted telling him, the doctor part of her knew he needed to know the truth. At the moment, (Y/N) did not remember anything about Levi, or where she was, or her relationship to him. They hadn’t even told her about the baby yet, too concerned she’d do something rash if she found out before she had been calmed down.

“What is she doing now?” Levi asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

“Erwin is with her right now. He’s trying to convince her that the neighbors heard a commotion and called him to investigate, which led to your “arrest” and that we are here to save her.”

Levi snapped his head up, his eyes furious and his mouth opening to speak when Hanji interrupted him.

“I know what you’re going to say, Levi, and don’t worry, we have a script planned to prove your innocence should her amnesia continue so she doesn’t continue to think you took advantage of her. But this is the only thing we could think of that would let us get close to her without her thinking we were “in league” with you. Do you understand? We didn’t want to paint you in a bad light, but we had to if we wanted to keep her from hurting you or herself.” 

Hanji avoided bringing up the idea of the baby getting hurt too, knowing that would just pour more salt on the wound. Levi wasn’t stupid, it was clear he was very aware of the fragile situation they were all in at the moment, it wouldn’t help to make him even more stressed with information he already knew.

Levi was quiet for a moment but eventually nodded, closing his eyes and placing his head on his fist, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward in his chair, trying to process everything he was being told without breaking down. Hanji took a deep breath, preparing for the worst.

“And um…, I’ve organized everything so that (Y/N) will come to live with me for a while. I want to keep an eye on her and it’s obvious she can’t really stay here.”

To her surprise, Levi just nodded, letting loose a silent sob that Hanji pretended not to hear, for his benefit. When his body started to shake, she placed her hand on his shoulder again, using her other hand to lift his chin up so she could look into his eyes. Her heart clenched when she saw the pain and despair swirling there, her normally stoic best friend showing more vulnerability than she had ever seen him display for anyone other than the woman who currently thought he was a monster.

“Listen, Levi. I promise you right now, both as a friend and as a doctor, that I will do everything in my power to make sure everything goes back to normal. I can’t promise that it will, but I do promise that I will work until I die trying, alright? You may feel like the world is against you right now, but you are not alone.”

Levi closed his eyes and nodded, murmuring his quiet thanks as Hanji made to leave the room, her phone pinging with Erwin’s text saying he finally got her calm enough to transport. “Make sure to stay in here until we are gone, okay Levi?”

Levi didn’t respond as Hanji left the room, only sitting with his head pressed against his fist as he listened to the sounds of Erwin leading (Y/N) to Hanji’s car, each murmur of comfort from his best friends to his wife like another dagger to his bleeding heart.

_______________________

“(Y/N)? Are you okay in there?” (Y/N) heard Hanji call from behind the bathroom door. Closing her eyes, (Y/N) answered that she was fine, too busy with fighting another wave of nausea to formulate the words necessary to convey that she was indeed, not fine.

When she finally felt the roiling in her stomach calm down, (Y/N) flushed the toilet and washed her mouth out, nearly vomiting again just from the taste on her tongue. When she was finally certain that she could close her mouth without gagging, (Y/N) took a deep breath and sat on the now closed toilet lid, trying not to cry.

Hanji had been unbelievably kind and supportive, letting her stay at her house until she got better, using her medical skills to check her over in her comfortable living room rather than in the daunting, harsh environment of a hospital. She had let (Y/N) borrow her guest room and had provided her with any clothes she had needed during her stay. She felt…, comfortable. Safe. But she couldn’t deny that she was still shaken after her whole ordeal with the raven-haired man.

While it was clear he had known her name, she didn’t know his; didn’t know anything about him other than he had assaulted her and been taken into police custody for it. While part of her was viciously happy at the thought of him behind bars, another more confusing part of her was screaming at her to help him, almost as if something inside her knew him in a way the rest of her didn’t. She quickly shook off the feeling, focusing on the satisfaction of knowing he was getting a just punishment for his actions, hoping she’d be the last in what she assumed was a string of his victims.

But even when she was being taken care of by a nice, talented doctor, and her captor was being sent to jail, and she had a handsome detective on standby to protect her at a moment’s notice until she was cleared by Hanji to go home, the incident still made her want to scream, to cry, to curl into a ball and forget everything. She could only find some semblance of comfort from the thought that she couldn’t remember the assault, too drugged out or unconscious to remember any of what had happened that night.

But a week and a half had passed since then, and with each day of consistent vomiting, and hormone changes, and random food cravings, (Y/N) had the horrible suspicion that she was pregnant. Again, a strange part of her felt warm and tingly at the thought, as if she had planned for this, making her groan in pain and frustration. She really hoped she didn’t have some resemblance of Stockholm Syndrome, his looks and charisma making her feel as if she were in love with him despite what he had done to her.

Another knock sounded on the door, followed by Hanji’s concerned voice. “Are you sure, you’re alright, (Y/N)? I’m worried about you, hun.”

“I’m coming,” (Y/N) said, her lip twitching at the concern in Hanji’s voice. She couldn’t express her appreciation for the surprisingly energetic woman, how sweet she was without pitying her, how gentle she was without treating her as if she were made of glass.

Washing her hands quickly, (Y/N) unlocked the door and joined Hanji in the kitchen where she had made her some pancakes with bacon, no eggs at (Y/N)’s insistence after the smell of them on the first day had sent her running to the bathroom.

“Thanks again, Doctor Zoe,” (Y/N) said when the woman forked the bacon onto her plate, the doctor waving her hand dismissively at her gratitude.

“It’s really no problem, (Y/N). It’s my job to take care of you to the best of my ability and that’s what I’m going to do. You’ve been through a lot, you deserve to feel comfortable and relaxed,” Hanji said, trying not to cringe at the way her once best friend called her name so formally. It wasn’t a lie, she had been through a lot, it just wasn’t what she knew (Y/N) was thinking.

The thought made Hanji want to cry, knowing how much it was hurting both of them. She had met with Levi the other day under the guise of getting more groceries, wanting to check on him as both a friend and a doctor, only to find a wreck of the once proud man she knew. She had come into his home, an alarm bell going off in her head when she noticed he hadn’t cleaned in days. Finding him on the couch, messy and hunched over, his clothes wrinkled and his hair a mess as he stared at a photo of the two of them horseback riding together, had almost broken her. She had relented a little, giving him a hug despite the grunt of annoyance he gave, a watery smile forming on her lips as he still managed to show his disdain for her hugs, but it had quickly disappeared when he started sobbing quietly, his shaking shoulders telling her before his tears did.

Shaking her head a little, Hanji pushed the image to the back of her mind, using it to fuel her determination to get (Y/N)’s memories back rather than letting her depression take over. She had to do this, for both of them, no matter what.

“Hey, Doctor Zoe,” (Y/N)’s quiet voice snapped Hanji out of her musings, prompting her to look around the corner from where she had been cleaning the kitchen to look at her patient, fighting the tears back at how weak she looked. So different from the best friend she had known and lost.

“Yes, (Y/N), what is it? Are you hurting somewhere?”

“Doctor Zoe…, I think I might be pregnant.”

Hanji froze, her eyes widening. 

Shit. Shit. 

Hanji still hadn’t told her, had been too afraid to. She hadn’t even known how. How do you even begin to explain to a person that they were pregnant with a baby they had planned for and consciously made with a person they now believed to be a sexual predator? She had spent days mulling over how best to explain it to her, but now all of that was thrown out the window. She had been so focused on everything else, she hadn’t even considered the fact that (Y/N) might figure it out for herself.

(Y/N) noted the look on Hanji’s face, her eyes narrowing. Her lips parted for a moment, shock flying across her face before she schooled her expression, her eyes hard. “Doctor Zoe…, you know, don’t you? I need you to tell me the truth.”

Hanji swallowed hard and made her way slowly over to the table, (Y/N) standing up to meet her half way, her gaze never leaving her doctor’s face.

“Doctor Zoe, tell me right now. Am I pregnant with that monster’s child?”

____________________________

Hanji took a deep breath as Erwin parked the car in front of Levi’s house, a shuddering sigh passing through the detective as well.

“Thank you for being here, Erwin,” Hanji whispered, unrestrained tears streaming down her face.

“It’s no problem, none at all. I know you’re going to need some serious help with this one.”

Hanji hummed noncommittally, her brain screaming at her to turn around, to drive away, to hide in a dark corner and cry. She had no idea what to expect other than sheer chaos, but she knew she had to do this. If she didn’t do this now, she knew nothing could compare to the sorrow he would feel later.

“Let’s go,” Erwin said, placing a hand on her shoulder, his icy blue gaze meeting her chocolaty brown ones, his anguish apparent.

Hanji nodded, placing her hand over Erwin’s before they both slid out of the car, rejoining to hold each other’s hands, supporting each other so they could support their hurting friend, as they made their way to the door.

Entering without knocking, knowing it was unlocked, Erwin and Hanji didn’t have to look to know where to find Levi, heading straight for the living room where he had spent the past week and a half, never gaining the strength nor the desire to go anywhere near their bedroom. They found him looking blankly out the window, not even turning around when they entered the room.

“Any news?” Levi asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

“Actually, yes,” Erwin sighed.

“Really!? What is it!?” Levi suddenly perked up, racing over to his friends, his eyes wild as he looked between them, not daring to let hope sing in his veins in case it wasn’t the news he was looking for. After a moment, he was glad he didn’t.

“Levi,” Hanji choked out, tears springing to her eyes as she spoke. “She found out about the baby, but her memories still aren’t back to normal. She…, she wants to… she wants to terminate it.”

Levi felt the world shift beneath his feet. Stumbling back, his chest was heaving and his heart was screaming as his body sagged against the wall.

“No…, no, no, no!” Levi whispered over and over again, shaking his head. Not their baby, not the bundle of joy they had been trying for for so long, not the light that had surprised them a month ago with their presence, making Levi and (Y/N) feel the happiest they had ever felt. “No, no, no, no…”

Hanji hugged herself, hanging her head and ignoring when her glasses clattered to the floor, not even checking for broken lenses like she usually did when they came off her face. “A-And she said that…, she said that I’m the only one she trusts to do it…,” Hanji gasped, tears streaming down her face in waterfalls.

Looking up, she caught Levi’s eye, his expression unreadable as she watched him. The intensity and uncertainty in his gaze broke the normally energetic, steadfast woman, Hanji sinking to her knees as she sobbed into her hands.

“Levi, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry! I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to take this from either of you, but I don’t know what else to do! I know that if I don’t agree to it that she’ll find someone else, someone who doesn’t know the situation and won’t hesitate to perform the procedure. I’ve told her for now that I have to think about it since I don’t do those procedures often and I want a full health report back from her psychologist, but I can only put it off for so long,” Hanji sobbed, leaning into Erwin when he kneeled down to hold her close, petting her hair and making soft cooing sounds. 

“Normally, I wouldn’t have a problem with it, it’s the woman’s choice, it’s her body, but this situation is so fucked up! I know this isn’t what (Y/N) wants because she made this baby with the man she loves, her husband, and if she gets her memories back and finds out what I did to her-”

“Hanji,” Levi’s voice snapped her out of her ramblings, shocked to find Levi kneeling in front of her, his hand titling her chin up gently. “This isn’t your fault. Thank you for everything you’ve done in taking care of her…, and me.” 

Levi looked away, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. Reaching up with his free hand, he touched the barely noticeable mark that was on his neck from when she had cut him. 

“I want you to know that it’s okay. You’re right, this situation is fucked up, but we’ve been backed into a corner. As much as I hate it, as much as it will fucking kill me to have this happen, I will not force her to go through with something she doesn’t want. Especially something of this magnitude. We can wait for her memories to come back, keep trying harder to help her, but if they haven’t returned by the time her psychologist reports come back as sound…,” Levi couldn’t bring himself to say it, but his friends knew what he meant.

Leaning forward, Erwin and Hanji opened their arms and brought Levi in close, the raven-haired man tensing for a moment before melting into their comforting hold. All three of them sat on the floor of Levi’s living room, the dying sun staining the wood red as they cried, holding each other tightly as they silently begged for things to finally get better.

_____________________________

(Y/N) gave a wry smile as Hanji handed over the reports she had gotten in the mail, all of them from the psychologist that had carefully examined (Y/N) after her incident. While most of them had random information about therapists in the area and available medications from trauma, the page she really focused on was the paper that declared her mentally stable, even after such a traumatizing event. She would still need to heal, but she had been deemed mentally and emotionally capable enough to make her own decisions.

(Y/N) subconsciously placed a hand over the very slight swell of her stomach, letting out a sigh as she looked up at Hanji. “Thank you Doctor Zoe, for everything.”

Hanji merely nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she shook (Y/N)’s hand, as if she hadn’t spent years hanging out with (Y/N), going out to bars together, and taking some of their general education classes together when they first started college. As if she hadn’t gone to (Y/N)’s wedding and gotten drunk off her ass at the reception, giving one of the most hilarious and simultaneously heartfelt speeches she had ever given, much to (Y/N)’s entertainment and Levi’s embarrassment.

Hanji couldn't stop it then, the tears springing to her eyes before she could hold them back. She could see (Y/N) tilting her head in confusion, could see her eyes widening in alarm through her blurred vision, but she didn’t have the ability to explain, her throat closing up.

Before (Y/N) could even ask what was wrong, Hanji launched herself at the poor girl, ignoring her squeak of surprise as she held her close, sobbing into her shoulder. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, I am so so sorry…,”

“What the hell do you have to be sorry for?” (Y/N) asked incredulously, only making Hanji cry harder.

“Hey.” 

Hanji opened her eyes at (Y/N)’s soft voice, blinking at the sight of her once closest friend leaning down in front of her, holding her face in her palms. “Why are you crying?”

Hanji sniffled and managed to swallow the lump in her throat, forcing the words out. “I just…, I know this will sound strange but,” Hanji sighed. “I love you, (Y/N), and I’m going to miss you.”

It was like (Y/N) was struck by lightning, the words clanging through her, her entire body tingling as she froze. Everything. She felt, heard, saw, everything. She remembered. She remembered going to college with Hanji, hanging out with her on the weekends as they studied together and teased each other about their various crushes. She remembered meeting Erwin when Hanji brought him around for dinner one night after she had been pulled over by him on the way to (Y/N)’s house, the dazed cop not expecting to get a date and a free meal out of giving someone a speeding ticket. 

And she remembered Levi. Her beloved husband. She remembered meeting him, getting to know him, going on dates together, their wedding, and of course, the day she told him about her pregnancy, the way he had smiled the widest she had ever seen, tears in his eyes as he crushed her to him, thanking her over and over again for giving him the family he never had as she beamed bright enough to rival the sun.

Hanji had felt (Y/N) stiffen, heard the gasp that  had ripped from her throat and quickly released her, berating herself for letting her emotions get in the way of her logic. (Y/N) still had no idea who she was, it was as if a near stranger had given her a hug and claimed they loved her. Of course she was freaked out, and after everything she was already dealing with, this was the last thing she needed.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry, that was a really unprofessional thing to do, I know you’re probably confused and-”

Hanji was cut off by the feeling of (Y/N) wrapping her arms around the doctor’s middle and holding her close. Hanji’s eyes were wide and she held her breath, hardly daring to hope. “(Y/N)?”

“Hanji, it’s me, I remember! I remember everything!”

“Y-You do!?”

“I do,” (Y/N) said, lifting her head and looking up at her best friend, her eyes shining brightly with love and recognition.

“(Y/N)! YOU’RE FINALLY BACK!” Hanji screeched, hugging her friend back tightly, making sure to stay aware of her slightly extended belly.

“I’m back,” (Y/N) murmured, rubbing her face into Hanji’s jacket, relishing in the  feeling of knowing her best friend again.

“How?” Hanji asked in awe, her eyes shining with fresh tears of relief and joy.

“Your words! When you said, ‘I know this will sound strange, but I love you’, it snapped me out of it! Those were the words Levi used almost exactly to confess to me when he finally realized he felt something more for me than just friendship,” (Y/N) said, beaming brightly.

“I’m so glad you’re back, (Y/N), I missed you so- OH MY GOD, LEVI!” Hanji suddenly screamed. “He doesn’t know yet! We have to go tell him right now!”

(Y/N) immediately pushed away from Hanji, having completely forgotten in her moment of clarity and excitement that Levi was still alone at their house, had been for two weeks.  Scrambling to the car, Hanji wasted no time in throwing the car into reverse before tearing out onto the road, calling Erwin as they drove.

____________________________

Levi was staring out the window when he heard his door explode open, causing him to glance back despite the fog that rested over his mind and body. He figured maybe Hanji had finished with the procedure early and was coming to console him, or maybe it was Erwin, coming to make sure he didn’t do anything brash.

When he turned, he found he was partly right, his two best friends standing in the entryway to his living room, but for the first time in weeks, they had silly grins on their faces, their eyes bright with joy and tears of relief.

“LEVI!” Hanji screamed. “(Y/N), she remembered! She remembers everything! (Y/N) is back!”

Levi’s eyes widened and his body tightened, waiting for this to just be some sick dream. His breath caught and he struggled to get the words out, to ask for the confirmation he needed, to make sure what they were telling him was true.

“Levi!?”

That voice. Full of concern and desperation and-

Love.

He hadn’t heard her voice sound like that in so long, and his body went weak at the sound of it. “(Y/N)!?” His voice was strained with his desperation to see her.

“Levi!”

Tears immediately sprang to his eyes when his wife finally rounded the corner, her own eyes widening at the sight of him. Letting out a strangled cry, (Y/N) bolted at him, Levi rushing to meet her head on, before crushing her to him, his arms wrapping around her in a way that told her he was never letting go.

They were both sobbing, Levi crying into her hair as she cried against his chest, scrunching the fabric of his shirt in her fists. Levi was quieter than (Y/N) in his relief, but filled with no less emotion, his heart finally being pieced back together at the feeling of his beloved wife back in his arms again.

“Levi, Levi, oh gods, Levi,” (Y/N) whispered over and over again between sobs. “I am so fucking sorry for everything I put you through, for everything I said, none of it was true, I promise. I don’t know what happened but I remember you now, and I love you and I missed you so much. I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Levi muttered into her hair, his deep voice calming her fried nerves. “It wasn’t your fault, I’m here now, and I’m never letting you go again, do you understand me? I love you so fucking much, baby.”

(Y/N) buried her face even deeper into his shirt, her body shaking against his in her relief as Levi murmured “I’ve got you,” repeatedly, gently rocking her from side to side. Hanji and Erwin watched for a moment before leaving to give the couple some privacy.

“Is the baby okay?” Levi asked after a while, pulling away only to check her all over, his hands gently feeling over her skin with featherlight touches.

“Yes, yes, the baby is fine,” (Y/N) said, a tiny bit of bitterness in her voice as she remembered what she had asked Hanji to do before her memories came back. “I can’t believe I almost-”

“Shhh, don’t think that way. You had every reason to want to when you were in that situation, but you’re here now and we are all safe.”

Levi brought her back into a tight hug, the two of them sinking down onto the couch together, (Y/N) shifting to curl up in his lap.

“I love you, Levi, I love you so much. I’m sorry I ever called you a monster, and said those horrible things about you, and t-tried to c-cut you…,”

“(Y/N), remember what I said? It wasn’t your fault. You can’t have any regrets, alright? I’m okay, you’re okay, the baby is okay, and we are all together now. I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’ve got you both, now and forever.”

[reidgraygubler]

a different type of high (spencer reid/reader) pt 5

Title: A Different Type of High (part five)

Request: no

Couple: spencer reid/gender-neutral!reader

Category: angst/fluff 

Content Warning: swearing, mentions of drug use/withdrawl, mentions of narcotics anonymous, anxiety, comments about someone’s weight (for like a quick second), mentions of smoking (cigarettes)

Word Count: 4,192

Summary: Reader goes to the BAU offices to meet the rest of the team, where they find out how Spencer met them. And reader and Emily have a heart to heart about their life.

A/N: i don’t have much to say here, other than thanks for reading this and loving it so much. I wasn’t expecting it to get as much attention as it’s getting! so thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

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{***}{***}{***}

A white and blue plastic tag was clipped to my nicest shirt. The word ‘VISITOR’ was printed in bright red at the bottom. I glanced at Spencer, feeling my anxiety start to rise in my stomach and up my throat. He seemed different here. I supposed he had to be different here because it was, indeed, his job. He had to pretend to not be a drug addict, and going through tough shit in life with some girl he met at NA. 

“Can we get lunch after?” I looked up at him as we stepped onto the elevator. Spencer was close beside me and it was nice having his presence so close to me. “Or coffee or something?” I looked back at the doors of the elevator. The lighting was more of a crispy white light, and I’m sure the rest of this building has this bright and blinding light.

“Of course… My treat since I brought you out here,” Spencer looked back down at me. He lifted an arm and wrapped it around back in a weird side hug. I swallowed and nodded before looking at the ground. 

“Do you know what we’re going to tell them?” I looked back up at him. And before he got the chance to answer, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. I dropped my shoulders and looked at the now open doors.

Spencer looked down at me with an apologetic look in his eye. He slowly lifted his hand, offering it to me to hold as some sort of comfort. I stared at it for a moment before grasping it. I looked up at his face and forced a smile, silently telling him that we could move. The lobby was very open and large. A large glass window/door showed a series of desks and a few offices. And hallways led off of either side of the door to more offices. 

“We can stop at my desk first before we go see anyone,” Spencer whispered as we walked towards the doors. I looked back up at him and nodded. “Are you okay?” his voice filled with genuine worry.

“Yeah,” I mumbled and stayed close beside him. I wouldn’t dare tell him that I was scared shitless because then he’d feel bad for taking me here. And I don’t want him to feel bad because this was my decision to come here. He wanted me to meet his friends and family. In fact, I wanted to meet his friends and family. 

The expression on his face told me that he was worried. So, me trying to not make him feel bad wasn’t working out. I guess if I pretended like everything was okay and faked it all, he’d be okay. Spencer’s a smart man, he knows how to read people (I mean, that is basically his job). To be fair, I’ve never exactly imagined stepping foot in a government facility while I struggled with drugs. And, maybe the anxiety I was feeling wasn’t from meeting actual FBI agents, but instead, it was withdrawal...

“I didn’t know you played chess” I looked at the small chessboard on the desk we were walking towards. I only assumed it was his, it just had a vibe that suited him. “My mom showed me how to play when I was 12, but… It’s been a while since I last played,” I shrugged as I watched him collect a few things from his desk. They were a few beige/brown colored folders and books. I wondered what was in the folders, but it was probably classified information that a normal citizen, like me, wasn’t allowed to see.  

“Yeah, my mom taught me when I was younger. This was given to me by an old friend that I used to play with,” he looked at the set before moving a piece, “Keeps me busy when I’m bored,” he looked back at me and smiled. Something told me that he played fairly often when they weren’t working.

“You’ll have to reteach me how to play,” I shrugged, watching as he put everything in his bag. I looked around the office and noted just how many FBI agents were around, and I was starting to feel a certain anxiety rise in my stomach. No, no, this was definitely anxiety from being in an FBI facility, because of the illegally obtained drugs. Maybe a little bit of it was from the withdrawal.

“Okay, I’ll give you the tour then everyone should be up there,” he looked down at his watch before looking up at a room separated from the desks and other offices. 

“Sounds good,” I whispered. He walked beside me, bringing me back out of the room with the desks. A small shiver went through my body as we left the room. Spencer glanced down at me before wrapping an arm around my body, holding me close to him.

He brought me down one hall, showing me to the bathrooms and his friends' offices. There were a few other boring offices before he brought me down the opposing hall.  There wasn’t much other than more offices, but at the end of the hall, was another office owned by one of his friends. 

“She has other things to do so she won’t be joining us in the conference room,” Spencer spoke before knocking on the door. A faint, but cheery, ‘Come in’ came from the other side. Spencer looked back at me before opening up the door. “I promise you’ll like her,” he whispered before entering the room. I stayed close behind him, kinda hiding myself from the other human.

“What can I do ya for, Reid,” a woman asked, her tone filled with playful sarcasm. I bit back my lips and kept my eyes on my back. At least she sounded nice… “Wait, I thought you had the day off,” 

“Just came by to grab a few things. And I brought a special guest,” Spencer spoke as he reached behind him. I looked down at his hand before gently placing my hand in it. His fingers wrapped around mine and he carefully pulled me around to stand beside him. “This is Penelope Garcia,” he looked down at me with a smile. Penelope stood up from her chair to look at me. Spencer looked back at the woman and smiled before introducing me.

“Oh! You’re Reid’s friend! I’ve heard so much about you!” Penelope exclaimed as she pulled me into a hug. I froze as she embraced me, and I wanted nothing more than for Spencer to just pull me away from this situation. 

“You’ve… You’ve heard so much about me?” I asked, mostly to myself. What exactly did Spencer tell his friends about me? I guess I just assumed he didn’t talk about me at all. I looked up at Spencer with a raised eyebrow. I’m sure my expression told him that I was worried about everything she knows about me. 

“Goodness! You’re so skinny!” She added as she stepped away from me. I stared at her with wide eyes as I stepped further away from her and to stand closer to Spencer. Spencer looked at her with a raised eyebrow, silently telling her something. 

“Yeah it’s probably bc of my shitty life,” I thought to myself, “It’s nice meeting you,” I looked at her and smiled. My smile was very forced and felt very fake. Spencer knew that, and Penelope knew that. 

“If you ever need anything, anything at all, please feel free to call me. Even if it’s just to hang out,” she smiled at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded. “I know it can get pretty lonely while they’re working a case,” Penelope looked over at Spencer with a smile. I stared at her with wide eyes as I tried to figure this woman out.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” I nervously smile at her. Spencer glanced down at me as Penelope started talking about something. My anxiety was entirely too high to actually know what the fuck she was actually talking about. Could have been anything, honestly. But, from the basic gist that I was getting, she was just asking me a million questions and Spencer was answering them.  But, the one question we both avoided was ‘So, how did you meet our precious Boy Wonder?’, like we were in some sort of relationship, even though we were just really good friends. It still scared me though, mostly because we’ll have to answer that question in a matter of minutes.

“Well, I think the others are in the conference room,” Spencer looked down at me as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I looked up at him and faked a smile before looking over at Penelope. 

“It was nice meeting you, Penelope,” I made sure to keep my fake smile on my lips as I looked at her. She dropped her shoulders before going to give me another hug, which I accepted even though I didn’t really want to hug.

“It was so nice meeting you too! I hope we can hang out! And I hope I can see you again soon,” she placed her hands on my shoulders and smiled. I looked up at Spencer and smiled softly. The smile Penelope gave Spencer was awfully cheery smile before she actually allowed us to leave.  

I glanced up at Spencer once we were in the hallway and away from Penelope’s office. 

“I’m… I’m sorry for her,” he whispered as he grabbed my hand. I raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“It’s okay, I think,” my voice was even lower than his. The uncertainty in my tone caused Spencer to look down at me. I didn’t want to tell him that Penelope was overwhelming, while we were still in the building with hundreds of FBI agents. “Just as long as everyone else is chill and they don’t ask a million questions,” I looked at him with a shy smile.

“They’ll probably ask a bunch of questions, but not a million miles an hour,” Spencer laughed lightly. The closer we got to the main office areas, the more anxious and nervous I got. I mean, I was already nervous, but this was just making it worse. It was incredibly hard not to go into autopilot mode and just fake my way through the whole interaction. But then they’d know something was wrong with me. I’m sure the pure exhaustion on my face, the skinniness of my body, and the weird mood I was already in were all good signs of something being wrong with me. Maybe they won’t question it all to my face? 

 “Do you know how you’ll answer the thousand dollar question? The one that I worry about the most?” I kept my voice low because I didn’t want a stray agent to hear my question and Spencer’s answer of ‘Oh, I was just going to tell them we met at narcotics anonymous,’. Because I just know he’s going to tell them that.

Unfortunately for me, Spencer didn’t actually answer my question. He just stayed quiet. Which caused me to have a mild heart attack as we walked back into the main office area and up a small staircase. It wasn’t until we were at a door that he answered me. 

He turned and faced me, a slight worried look in his eye. I couldn’t exactly tell what it was about though. So, that’s when my mind started running wild with all the worst possibilities. What if he already told them? And this isn’t him bringing me to meet his team, his friends, his family. No, this is him bringing me in, to go to jail. He’s been lying to me this whole time… Shit, fuck, shit… I don’t know what to do. 

Spencer must have seen something, my sudden fear, flash in my eyes. Part of me wanted to turn and run, but that’d cause too much of a scene. I’d probably have more Federal Agents on me than behind this stupid door. Whatever. 

My body partly turned, and I could feel my legs wanting to move, but I was honestly paralyzed. Spencer lifted a hand and rested it on my shoulder, stopping me from moving any further. His touch was very gentle, and I stopped all movement there. I nearly had to convince myself to actually breathe and blink. 

“It’s okay. There’s no reason to be scared…” he whispered as he pulled his hand from me. I swallowed roughly as I looked at him. My heart was going a million miles a second, and it just wouldn’t slow. “I was… I was just thinking… We should just tell them,” his voice, just like his touch, was gentle. Don’t fall for this. There’s still a chance that he was lying, that this was all a ruse. Well, wait… Why else would he want to tell them…

“You think… you… You want to tell them? Spencer, I,” I stopped talking and swallowed roughly, feeling my anxiety go higher and higher as the time passed, “I’ve barely been clean for 2 months, Spencer. You know I almost… And you… You want to tell them that you met someone at Narcotics Anonymous… Where people go… when they’re addicted to drugs… because you’re… I don’t think that’s a good-”

“Trust me. Can you do that? They won’t be mad. I think they’ll be happy that I have friends outside of work, and that I’m getting the help I need. And, that you’re getting the help you need. Two months is a big accomplishment. Even if you were clean for a day… That’d be a big accomplishment. But this is the first time you’ve made it this before,” Spencer whispered, a soothing and warm smile on his lips. I couldn’t help but return the smile, trying to hide my face from him as a very sudden embarrassment took over. “You don’t even have to tell them where we met. I’ll do it,” he whispered before grasping my hand again. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Okay, okay,” I looked down at the ground and nodded. 

“Ready?” his voice still a whisper. I looked up at him and nodded.

“Now or never, I suppose,” I shrugged. Spencer looked at my face, a worried crease in his eyebrows and in his eyes. He slowly turned to the door to open in it. It was taking everything in me to calm myself down, and to convince myself that I was not going to be arrested. 

Spencer pushed the door open and led me into the office. The least he could have done was warn about how many people would be on the other side of the door. I thought I was freaking out before. But standing in front of me were 4 other Federal Agents, and standing beside me was another. This was bad… This was really bad.

“This is Jennifer, Derek, and Aaron,” Spencer spoke, gesturing towards each person, “And of course you’ve met Emily,” he looked towards Emily. I smiled at each of them and nodded as Spencer gave them my name. “Where’s Gideon?” 

“Office. Should be up in a minute,” Aaron looked up from his folder and at Spencer and me, “It’s nice meeting you,” he looked right at me and nodded. I stared at him and nodded lightly.

“Where did you two meet,” Jennifer looked at me as she walked around the table to stand in front of me and Spencer. I froze like “I was in a freezer” froze. “A deer in headlights” froze. I slowly looked up at Spencer with my eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, where does my man, Spencer Reid, meet a person like you,” Derek then asked as he leaned against the table. His eyes looked up and down at me, checking me out… Or was he looking for something out of the ordinary? I could feel my breathing stop, yet simultaneously picking up. 

“I actually… We met at Narcotics Anonymous,” Spencer’s voice was real low, so quiet as he spoke. The air in the room got tense, so tense that it was suffocating. Everyone looked at Spencer, and just Spencer, with shock on their faces. For the first time since I entered this building, I felt invisible. Which, I guess, was good. But bad at the same time. Because, if I’m invisible to them right now, that means a high beam is on Spencer and shit could go down. 

“Reid,” Derek started but stopped when Spencer looked at him, silently telling him to stop. The grip Spencer had on my hand tightened, and it scared me. Mostly because he probably realized that this was a mistake and he’s scared now. Which, in turn, only scared me more.

“We’re both clean. I swear, we’re both clean,” he looked back at everyone. I knew he was lying, but I think that’s okay that I was the only one who knew he was lying. Granted, he was doing everything he could to get better, but… I understand being stressed, or anxious, or scared, and wanting to just turn to a weakness that could kill you. Last week, for instance… I got scared of nothing and almost made a big mistake. “I know I should have said something sooner, told you the truth instead of keeping it from you. But…”

“Spence,” Jennifer looked over at Spencer with wide eyes. She stepped away from the table before hugging him, hard. I looked at the pair hugging, wishing I had someone like that to hug me when they find out I’m going through a “rough time”. “I wish we knew… We could have… We would have helped,” she stepped away from him, resting her hands on his shoulders. I looked at her before looking down at the ground. 

“I’m… I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” I muttered before quickly rushing away from the others. More words would be exchanged between Spencer and his co-workers, his friends, his family. A family I don’t have and will probably never have. Whatever… Whatever, I’m happy he’ll have a great support system.

Once I found my way to the bathroom, I locked myself in a stall and could feel myself begin to hyperventilate. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, and my hands quickly went to my face to hide from the world. Although, I was hiding in my own world, behind the bathroom doors, in a small stall. 

My world wasn’t necessarily collapsing around me, but it felt like that. My head spun and my chest felt like it was going to explode. This sudden anxiety attack wasn’t something I was 100% expecting to happen. Although, the anxiety I was feeling beforehand was probably just building up, and I was just pushed to the edge before I broke down.

“Are you alright in here?” A familiar voice asked from outside the stall. I froze before wiping my nose. It was hard being silent, pretending like I didn’t exist. “I know you’re in here. You told us you were going to the bathroom, and I heard you sniffling just a moment ago,” she continued with a small chuckle. I looked down at the ground before standing up and pushing out of the stall. 

Emily was standing against the counter, leaning right in front of where the door was. She looked at me with a distressed look on her face. Shit, they got Spencer, and now they’re going to get me… I glanced at the door, before looking back at Emily. I could feel my body moving before I gave it the okay. My feet going quick towards the door.

“I’m not going to arrest you,” Emily quickly said as she stepped in front of me to stop me from running away, “And, we’re not going to arrest Spencer either,” she laughed lightly as she looked down at me. I looked up at her with wide eyes. “You can calm down. I promise. I’m just making sure you’re okay… You’d been in here for a while, and Spencer was worried about you,” she calmly explained as she rested a hand on my shoulder. I looked at her before nodding lightly. 

“You’re… You’re not just saying that?” I whispered, keeping my eyes on her. Because surely if I looked away from her, she’d do something I didn’t want happening. 

“I promise you, I’m not just saying that,” she reassured. I nodded and looked at the ground, “Are you okay?” She actually asked, pulling her hands away from my body.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I nodded as I cautiously looked up at her. She raised an eyebrow, silently telling me that she knew I was lying. I looked back at the ground and shrugged. “What?”

“I’ve been in this line of work long enough to know when people are lying… And to know when people are not okay,” she whispered, her voice so soft and gentle. She was genuinely concerned about me. I’ve only met her once before, and she seemed very nice. 

“I’m not okay,” I whispered as I looked at her. I don’t remember the last time I was honest with someone about my feelings. 90% of the time I lie at meetings because I don’t want a bunch of actual crackheads knowing that I’m depressed. “I think… I think seeing Spencer with everyone… And everyone being supportive…” I started but allowed my words to trail off, mostly because I didn’t really want to say I was jealous of my best friend. 

“Oh, I see,” Emily whispered as she leaned against the counter in front of me. I looked at her before looking down at the ground, then over at the door, then back at the ground. 

“Yeah, I’ve never really had a support system like he does, now, and…” I sighed deeply and looked up at her again, “I just have Spencer, and that’s a little hard when we’re both trying… To… Ya know,” I whispered and shrugged. 

“Well, I don’t know if Spencer told you this… But, any friend or family of his is a friend or family of the team. I know we’ve only met once before, but I’d gladly be a support team for you,” she whispered, and I honestly couldn’t tell if she was just telling me what I wanted to hear. But part of me knew she was telling the truth.

“You guys aren’t, like, mad or anything that Spencer was doing drugs? Or like... That he made friends with a dru-recovering drug addict,” I looked up at her, very cautiously. 

“We’re just happy he, and you, are getting the help you both need. We’re all just surprised he kept it to himself for as long as he did,” she explained. I nodded and looked down at the ground.

“And, like… He’s not going to get fired, is he? He said it wasn’t his fault that this happened,” I sighed as I looked at her. 

“Spencer’s not going to lose his job. He’s too loved and too much of an asset,” she laughed lightly. I returned the laughter and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s pretty smart…” I rubbed the underside of my nose and shrugged, “The first time we kinda hung out… He kept telling me that smoking can take 6 minutes of your life away to get me to stop,” 

“Did it work?” Emily asked, a playful chuckle in her tone. I laughed and nodded.

“Kinda. I mean… I smoke every so often, but not as much as I used to,” I sighed as I looked up at her, “I still do it when he isn’t around. But when he’s around I forget things… Like… The shit hand I was dealt. Ya know? Like, he gives me something else to think about,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. Emily cocked her head to her shoulder and looked up at my face. I looked at her, feeling my face relax.

“Like what?” She asked. I could feel a small smile slowly growing on my lips. She returned the smile, kinda knowing what I meant. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say. We should probably go back out there, don’t you think? They might be looking for us,” she laughed and gestured towards the door. I looked towards the door one last time. 

“Yeah, yeah,” I nodded before stepping closer to the door, “Spencer said something earlier about lunch, and I’m starved.” I laughed and walked beside Emily.

“Where were you guys going?” 

“I’m not sure, do you know of any good places,” I looked over at her. She thought for a moment and cocked her head.

“There’s a really good deli down the street, I’m sure Spencer would love it there. They serve coffee and I’m sure you know how he feels about coffee,” She chuckled lightly.

“Whenever he stays at my apartment, he always insists we get coffee because I don’t have any,” I shook my head before laughing. Emily nearly cackled and nodded.

“Sounds like him,”

“What are you two laughing about,” Spencer looked over at Emily and I as we re-entered the conference room. I looked over at him with a smile.

“Uh, lunch,”

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[mysmegrace]

hey love, how are you? i was wondering if you could do mc (any gender) and 707 going on a dinner date:)

hello love, i'm excellent (bc of u). of course i can, anything for you :3 i've decided to use they/them pronouns in this fic so it's easier for people to insert their own pronouns and gendered language as well as it being applicable to more people yknow. anyway i hope i did this justice <3

summary: saeyoung and mc got out to dinner to end the day. unbeknown to mc, saeyoung has a surprise to ask you.

words: 1.8k

Elly The Fourth (707 x MC)

---

you knew saeyoung had a tendency of being late, sometimes he’d even push it to the 15-20 minute mark. you vividly remember telling him about it in the past, but you two always came to an agreement. after all, you couldn’t stay mad when he’d grab the cat ears he had laying around, putting them on while puckering his lips to express false innocence.

however, he had failed to hold up your previous agreement of “if you are to be late, let me know beforehand”. passing a new number on the clock every time you looked up, the restaurant continued to populate with no sign of the man you longed for. boy would you let him have it this time.

you needed something new as a form of punishment. something that would make him stick to your agreements. maybe the silent treatment, or perhaps you’d whip him with the belt he spent a ridiculous amount of money on? “wait no... that wouldn’t end well on my end” you thought as your memories reminded you of his sadistic nature.

while trying to come to a consensus, the vermillion haired man entered the establishment. showing off his typical goofy, yet tender, smile as he eyed your sitting position down. you could hear the clicking of his shoes coming closer, but paid no attention as you had heard that the entire evening from strangers surrounding you.

“boo!” you hear suddenly, almost springing out of your seat, partially convinced your heart would jump out of your chest for a split second. however you had no time to take in sudden scare as your body instantly started to heat up. he arrived 25 minutes late and has the audacity to make his grand entrance by frightening you?

being met with silence on his end, he decides to quickly break the tension. “sorry i’m late, it was an accident” he says, only telling half of the truth. it was an accident in the fact that he was late and didn’t intend on being, but wasn’t an accident in the sense that he knew what he was doing beforehand.

however, he would keep that a secret until the time was right. surprises are better if they’re unexpected after all. snapping out of his thoughts, he noticed how your lips haven’t dared to move in the few minutes he’s been here. trying to come up with ways to lighten the mood while getting a response from you, he says “i’m really sorry. please forgive me and talk to me. it was for a good reason, i promise. you’ll find out soon enough”.

watching as your eyes softened and your posture lightened exactly when he was now eye level with you, he takes it as a sign to continue on with the original plan. only hoping your body language was from you being convinced by his words rather than because of your growing disappointment towards him. going to take the seat across from you, you answer “saeyoung, we’ve talked about this. why were you so late?”.

“babe, i can’t tell you yet. it’s a secret, please understand. let’s enjoy what i have planned for now and we can talk about it later, please?” he answered quickly, not giving a moment for him to accidently spill the beans. after a few seconds, he saw the look on your face as you decided to give into his proposal and make amends later.

for the next hour, tonight would strictly be about you two. he loves nothing more. once you give your verbal agreement, he gives back a small smile. one that reads of gratitude. calling the waiter over, you both receive your menus. 

the food all looked so good, but it wasn’t something he’d want everyday. that kind of taste isn’t much appealing to him. after all, he only chose the restaurant because of your open wish to eat there one day. hence why in classic saeyoung style, he decided on honey garlic chicken wings. commoner food, as jumin would say. honey garlic chicken wings, honey buddha chips, close enough.

on the contrary, you were in awe at the food selection. as long as you ate a few things off the menu, you could die happy. yet shock consumed you when your eyes glided across to check out the price. it was incredibly expensive. guilt started eating you up by the second.

you couldn’t ask him to get you something, it was simply too much. your conscience wouldn’t let you. unbeknownst to you, saeyoung noticed your sudden distress. he could read you like the back of his hand. “what’s the matter?” he asked.

taken aback, you responded “well.. everythings so expensive.” you had tried to mask your emotions in the moment, but to no avail. you should’ve known better than to think your love wouldn’t have his eyes on you 24/7. 

saeyoung could sense that was the issue. you had always been hesistant about spending other peoples money, however that just made him love you more. attempting to calm your worries, he says “don’t worry about it. you know i get paid well”.

you paused, thinking about his statement. “i know, but you should put that money towards savings. after all your work is illegal” you respond, after giving it a half-assed thought. your eyes peered up to find the love of your life smirking, just before replying “pshh, laws are just words on a paper”.

you had to admit, that was a playful thing for him to say. so far he had succeeded in his plans of lightening the mood, it being confirmed when you returned his reply with a giggle. god he loved hearing that giggle.

calling the waiter over again, you two placed your orders. meaning now you both were participating in the waiting game. in saeyoung’s mind, this was a perfect opportunity. he would have at least 20 minutes to explain everything he had been planning to.

so, he starts to go for it. opening by saying “so, about why i was late earlier.” now he had your full attention as you were dying to hear his reasoning so you could decide whether or not an ass whooping would be an acceptable punishment for this evenings occurrence.

“i had booked an appointment to sign some paperwork, but the appointment got moved 30 minutes. i didn’t have a choice but to leave you waiting. and i was too caught up in the moment to let you know beforehand” he continued, giving you a second to take in his words.

yet your mind began racing with questions. what paperwork? why did he need an appointment? why would he plan it for today? you left no time to waste before you let the questions out, not wanting to waste a single second.

perfect, he thought. you were going along with what he had planned out to happen beforehand. giving you your much deserved answers, he continues “well, i needed to do it today so i could give you a proper surprise. i never want you to be in any unnecessary stress, hence why i did everything in advance.”

he left you hanging for no more than a second. he loved being able to see the face you made while you were practically on the edge of your seat. he also loved the dramatic effect, the one he’d never be able to nail unless he were an experience actor. nevertheless, it was fun to try.

so to finish his statement, he lets the secret free, exclaiming “since we both have an undying love for cats, i’ve decided to adopt one. we pick her up tomorrow” giving a genuine, ever so loving, smile at the end of the long awaited sentence.

focused on your end of the table, his heart nearly exploded seeing your face go from suspense to pure joy. he couldn’t ask for anything more. you had began to let out an excited scream, only to contain yourself once the table next to you started to stare. however that didn’t stop you picking yourself up to meet the red head sitting across from you, smiling like a saint.

pulling him into a hug, you whispered “we’re really adopting a cat?” as your lips stood 2 inches away from his ear. his head pulled back from the embrace for a quick moment, only to confirm your statement with a nod of happiness. 

standing there in pure bliss, fantasizing about your new life with your fur baby, you found yourself nearing crying from the overwhelming announcement. only to be brought back to reality once the waiter arrived with your meals. you pulled away, only slightly embarrassed, to become your feast.

“i’m glad you’re so excited” saeyoung spoke. god was all too good to him, he thought. you smiled, softly replying “thank you”. your eyes glanced up from your newly delivered meal to find your lover looking no different than a child being delivered delicious ice cream.

“shall we begin our meal then, 606?” he proposed. you nod, picking up the utensil placed to your right. creating the passage way for the two of you to continue your night full of bliss, no more, no less.

as you silently decided against an ass whooping as reasonable punishment.

BONUS: *on the way home*

“saeyoung” you begin, feeling the once scorching sun hit your revealed arm. “do you have a picture of our future daughter?” you ask. after receiving a gentle laugh, your eyes are met with your loves phone. once inspecting the picture, you could feel yourself melt on the spot.

“she’s adorable, isn’t she?” saeyoung asked, taking a notice of the way your eyes lit up like stars at midnight. with an aggressive yet playful nod of confirmation, in the next second he could feel the way your body pushed into his side, your arms wrapping around his torso.

“thank you so much” you let out, barely being heard from muffling yourself in your lovers flesh. although you couldn’t see it, you had a sense of saeyoungs current facial expression.

one full of excitement, love, passion, and warmth. he would treat this cat like his child, you were positive of it. and on the plus side, jumin wouldn’t have to worry about saeyoung trying to get a hold of elizabeth now.

in that moment, almost as if he heard your thoughts, he says “we should name her elizabeth the fourth, elly for short!”. there was the silly, child-like man you loved, you thought. 

for the remainder of the late hours, you would be convincing saeyoung not to name her any variation of the name elizabeth the third. you knew for a fact that letting that name slide would result in a lawsuit by the morning. 

elly the fourth did sound cute though... perhaps you should propose keeping it as a nickname for times jumin isn’t present. 

---

3:07 AST - 07/22/21

[mickstart]

what do you think are some iconic/memorable schumi moments? i just got into f1 and would like to know more about him bc somehow i can’t really find anything like that about him.... just stats which are incredibly impressive but i can’t find anything about how he behaved or just anything about his personality..... thanks <3

:) Hi anon, thank you for unleashing the beast.

Ok I love you for asking me this thank you SO MUCH. Welcome to the circus I’m glad you’re here! Also yeah, Schumi is often talked about in terms of statistics and not as a human, Which is a shame bc like! Schumi is fascinating and the dynamics on the grid in late 90s F1 is so much fun! Also, this is mainly going to be late 90s -> early 2010s stuff bc I was born in 98 so uhhh I didn’t properly witness ANY 90s stuff and had to learn about it.

OK so I got super carried away but I’ve divided this into 3 sections: Drives/races that I think showcase some of his talents, human moments we need to talk about more, and Chaotic Little Bitch moments. The key thing to remember w/ Schumi is that he personally tends to be nice but as soon as you put him in a competition, Bastard Mode activates like a cat’s pupils going wide.

I am so sorry for the following short essay. Also some crashes are briefly mentioned but only ones with absolutely no injuries and there’s no details.

Chaotic Little Bitch Moments

Schumi debuted as a SUBSTITUTE driver for Jordan when one of their drivers was in police custody (yes. really.) The highest a Jordan had qualified all year was 10th and in his DEBUT at SPA, one of the toughest tracks, in the middle of the season, Schumi qualified that Jordan 7th! THEN his clutch failed before the first lap was even complete, but Benetton and Jordan WENT TO COURT to fight each other to sign him for their team before the next race in Monza. He couldn’t debut normally he HAD to cause a scene and set the tone.

The Red Strings of Fate: He qualified 7th, his iconic 7 starred helmet, his first victory next year was ALSO at Spa - his first complete race would be at Monza, Ferrari Holy Ground, and he finished 5th which 👀 1) he was immediately racing with The Greats. 2) Mr 5 Championships With Ferrari.

Winning a race by taking a stop and go penalty on the last lap, crossing the finish line in the pits, and making such a complicated argument about said penalty that in a hearing that was SUPPOSED to be Mclaren protesting the race result the stewards scrapped the entire penalty and the 3 who awarded it handed in their licenses??? Iconic.

Austria 2002 where Rubens was ordered to give the win to Michael. And then Michael fucking made him stand on the top step on the podium like “oh no no no RUBENS deserves this” and made a big SHOW out of it and its like “Michael stop you’re not making it heartwarming you’re making it WORSE Michael STOP” The Tension of germany 2010 podium VS the theatricality of THIS podium.

Team orders were banned because of this which also makes this indirectly responsible for Fernando Is Faster Than You having to be a coded message. You can’t escape him,

Blocking Alonso in Monaco qualifying and then, years later in 2010, overtaking Alonso technically illegally at Monaco (the race was ending under safety car, but the safety car doesn’t lead them over the line it pits and they’d crossed the safety car line and the regulations were NOT specific about the rules) and getting a 20 second penalty bc Damon Hill was a steward. Haunting FERNANDO specifically at Monaco like the ghost of christmas past? Getting a harsh penalty because ANOTHER driver he’d fucked over was a steward? Forcing the FIA to rewrite the rulebook to account for his nonsense when he was in his FOURTIES? I don’t know another chaos king.

Winning the 1995 championship by crashing into Damon Hill, getting AWAY with it for some reason, and then trying to do the same thing in 1997 to Villeneuve, failing to do so and simply rebounding off of him harmlessly, almost COMICALLY, and beaching his own car in a gravel trap at which point the FIA said “I have had ENOUGH of you Wacky Races Man!” and disqualified him from the entire championship

Forcing Mika off the track so bad at Spa 2000 that Mika realized the only way he was gonna be able to get past him was to re-invent the overtake and go for it whilst they were passing a backmarker. (The overtake itself is at 2:05 in the video but the build up to it is Important bc the key part it’s not just badass, it only happened bc Mika knew who he was dealing with.)

Spa 1998 was a Ridiculously Chaotic race it truly was the Mugello 2020 of its year, and after a crash at the start that took out almost the entire grid Schumi accidentally collided with Coulthard later in the race. (The teams used to have a spare car at every race then, so the race was able to continue after a restart.) This wasn’t a racing thing, Coulthard was getting lapped. So something in Schumi SNAPS, and he storms down the pitlane and tries to fight Coulthard while the mclaren and ferrari mechanics both hold him back and finally drag him away. He projected into the future, saw Coulthard was gonna talk non-stop shit about Seb, and acted accordingly.

Monaco 2012 Pole don’t talk to me about this I still can’t believe the audacity of this man to get the only pole of his comeback, at MONACO, at the ONE RACE where he had a 5 place grid penalty to take!!

In general, I know Cheating Bad but. I HAVE to admire the brainpower it must take to have the rulebook so memorized that whilst driving an F1 car Schumi could spot a loophole the size of the eye of a needle and then dance through it, forcing the FIA to add ANOTHER page to the rule book specially for him bc nobody else even REALISED that loophole existed.

Human Moments

A quick rant about Mika and Schumi’s entire friendship. After Spa 2000 Mika goes up to Michael, says something like “Don’t ever do that again” then they’re friends again. They had this mutual understanding that Racing was not Reality. This goes all the way back to their F3 days they were rivals AND friends for their entire career. They truly were the Sewis of the era if Sebastian was like 50% more evil. Their entire dynamic is “You’re the only motherfucker in this pit lane who can handle me”. Schumi would do some bullshit and every other driver would throw up their hands in frustration and Mika would just go “Okay” and drive better to put him in his place bc he was the only one who could keep up, and Schumi very visibly LOVED that he’s grinning after Mika owns his entire ass with that overtake at Spa. They were unstoppable force meets immovable object and I’m so sad their rivalry isn’t more talked about bc the way Mika is the only driver who can get him to behave like a normal human being is SO entertaining.

This is a sad one so I won’t link it but he started crying in the 2000 Monza press-conference with his brother and Mika when he equaled one of Senna’s records. The press kept trying to ask questions about it and Mika just has this death grip on his shoulder and tries to get them to stop or let them take a break and it’s so sad but also important to know about.

Once said he didn’t want Mick to race in F1 bc the pressure of his name would put Mick under so much stress and he wanted his son to be happy. (He fully supported Mick in his endeavors! But only after making absolutely sure it was what Mick wanted, and making sure he knew he could just race for fun if he wanted and it didn’t have to be F1)

This whole interview just after Mick was born with the Schumacher family. Special shout out to Gina on his head the entire video and also Corinna talking to the press while Michael is captivated by Mick. Me too Michael.

Once allegedly pleaded to take a stray kitten home from the track?

I reblogged this yesterday but. Sticking like glue to Sebastian at an F1 test and immediately being like “This is my new son he’s gonna go far”. There’s a lot of pictures out there also of Michael being a guest at the karting races Seb went to as a kid and baby Seb visibly losing his fucking mind at being given a trophy by his idol. Every day of my life I think about him trying to ruffle Seb’s hair through his helmet at Brazil 2012

WInning the championship in 2000. Him thanking the entire team individually and pausing mid-celebration to kiss his wife Corinna so tenderly it’s in the F1 opening. Also, the way it literally cuts from the rest of McLaren looking like they’re attending a funeral to Mika grinning at him and hugging him fucking SENDSSSSS me.

Schumi was a little shit in all the 2010-12 press conferences like, lowering Lewis’ chair, playing with a microphone wire, but ESPECIALLY corrupting baby Seb and getting him to mess with Nico Rosberg.

He’s just GOOFY! Like I refuse to let him be remembered as a terrifying force of nature he was so goofy kind of similarly to Seb. PLEASE watch this incredibly awkward interview he did with Coulthard on a golf buggy where they both had to pretend they hadn’t thought about murdering each other at least once. I think Sky F1 should force Brocedes to do this when covid’s over. “Do you mind if I drive?” “Yes.”

EDIT: I CANNOT BELIEVE I forgot the 1999 Canada press conference where Eddie Irvine and Mika Hakkinen get into a water fight and Schumi immediately grabs a towel and hides behind it and is like “I had NOTHING to do with it” 🥺 adorable, actually

A lot of people at Ferrari, including Rob Smedley (who was on the other side of the garage with Felipe Massa so not in his inner circle) have said that a lot of the success of the team came from Schumi’s LEADERSHIP more than anything, that he’d make the team get together to bond all the time. When Schumi moved to Ferrari in 1996 they were NOT dominant. He did the same thing Lewis did - went to a team that everybody said would be a huge mistake and helped build them up behind the scenes.

THIS bit of the Canada 2011 Rewind where his engineer gives him the strategy and he’s like “... OkaAaAaAay?” and then when it turns out to be the wrong strategy he cheerfully tells them it’s too late. Little shit.

Speaking of Mercedes I also wanna say that like. They were a MESS in 2012 and his car DNF’d because of a failing on their part MULTIPLE times. (In Canada qualifying his DRS was stuck open and they couldn’t close it.) He did not say a single bad word about them EVER even though the press used this to attack him non-stop as washed-up and bad without Ferrari to cheat for him. At Ferrari he was the exact same with the team, any bastard antics Schumi had for his rivals did not extend to the engineers and crew.

OK this one is soured bc Top Gear is trash BUT if you were like, a kid in England who followed motorsports? Schumi’s fake reveal as The Stig on Top Gear was like the coolest, sickest thing,

Please view this image of Schumi and Mika when they were young and stupid

Iconic Races

ok so I have limited myself to a few races that show off some of his key strengths!

Hungary 1998 / France 2004 - STRATEGY/SPEED - Schumi switched to a 3 stop strategy in 98 and a FOUR STOP strategy in 04 and won both races. In order for the strategy call to work he’d have to basically make every single lap a qualifying style ‘flying lap’ and you best fucking believe he DID THAT. God I fucking miss when Ferrari was the king of strategy.

Argentina 1998 -  has it all. Talent, battling Mika, pit lane mind games with mclaren, and bullying coulthard xxx

Spain 1996 / a majority of the wet races - RAIN - One of Schumi’s nicknames was Rain Master bc he was so fucking good in the wet. If it started raining and you were a Schumi stan you were cackling evilly before the red lights even went out. I single out 1996 bc it was his first win for Ferrari and it was unexpected but in most wet races, even Canada 2011 post comeback, you can see Schumi thriving.

Malaysia 1999 - Schumi missed pretty much the entire second half of the season with a broken leg, came back for the last 2 races with everybody murmuring about whether he would struggle, and immediately put the Ferrari on pole. Also worth noting is that he was the number 2 driver for these 2 races bc his teammate Irvine was fighting Mika for the championship and he went along with that without complaint, allowing Ferrari to win the constructor’s championship if not the driver’s.

Monza 2002, 03, 04, or 06 just because it has the energy of the tifosi kneeling at the feet of an idol to their red god.

Brazil 2006 - Fuck All Y’all - Schumi’s last race for Ferrari. He got a puncture and ended up almost lapped, and then drove his way back from that to 4th bc he couldn’t go out without reminding us he’s a bad bitch.

Monza 2012 - Defending - Don’t tell F1 Twitter that there’s actual footage of Lewis and Michael having a genuine lengthy battle on track but DO watch Michael defending like a motherfucker and Lewis breathing down his neck for half the race we need to talk about this more.

Valencia 2012 - This isn’t necessarily anything special but I cried in my living room over the only podium of his comeback so it goes on here. It doesn’t have the same impact if you haven’t been watching him struggle with the car for years, DNF-ing from car failure most of 2012, and having BBC F1 telling you he’s washed up every single weekend, but you can just enjoy one of the best drives of FERNANDO’S entire career as he DRAGS that Ferrari by its hair to a home grand prix win and then watch the crowds embrace him like jesus and also Schumi being happy on the podium. Also, the very start of this clip from the press conference: him forgetting what language he’s supposed to be speaking 

Basically, Schumi was a hyper-competitive ambitious bitch who turned into a goofball as soon as he switched the engine off. This is by NO MEANS everything if I was making an exhaustive best races guide I’d do more research and another post but I hope this is what you were looking for?? THANK YOU SO MUCH for letting me go MAXIMUM SPECIAL INTEREST and I apologize.

[indigosprite]

Chrome Callout post.

relax this is just my love hate relationship with chromes writing and potential. spoiler, it ends with all the love... hate is only in the middle. 

My absolute favorite thing in fanfics is Chromes characterization. Like we all know Chrome is completely aware that Mukuro and co need a reoccurring dose of Valium and a therapist willing to do illegal things in order to lower their sadistic points to ”kind of disturbing but tolerable”. Or at least we hope she does even though she proves to us again and again that she’s not phased by it in the slightest and might actually be just as bad. TYL and she’s still running around helping them do god knows what. She follows them on this massacre pridefully, she “believes in” them ( its sweet actually. They’re what she thinks of when Mukuro asks what she believes in and makes a young kokuyo gang.)

In fanfics when people write her to be a double edge sword it’s hilarious, and it should’ve been the character depicted in the Anime and manga instead. But I guess if she hadn’t been the quiet, breathy & compliant 14 year old people wouldn’t have morphed her into the fanon I enjoy now. Here’s some stuff i love and HC abt Chrome  and the things I absolutely hated.  

1. When she actually speaks not just when spoken to. She voices her concerns although she has no intent of not doing what’s asked of her. Who knew she could speak and still be the obedient gang member Mukuro trusts her to be. And when she does this it’s funny. She is the conscience he buries underneath disgust and amusement for chaos, but that’s not her entire character. She’s not reduced to the mom friend either because of this, she’s too passive on the matter. She indulges/Enables it just the same as Chikusa or Ken, although she knows better meanwhile the thought never occurs to them. To summarize :

she’s Brian

2. She’s unhinged and the best part is nobody knows even though it’s blatantly obvious. She may not have the same bloodlust or violent disposition as her peers but there are other ways to showcase this. To Allow Mukuro the leader of this little fearsome Five-some to possess you whenever he feels like and witness whatever horrors he decides to inflict upon someone that day means she’s accepting of literally everything he does. She never resists or expresses distaste/fear for him or anything he does. We assume she would in some capacity because she was depicted as this wide eyed innocent girl trying her best to repay the man that got her to join a gang under the guise of a found family. She quite literally signed up for guts n glory. She knew this and never had second thoughts. Mind you she doesn’t share the same hatred for the mafia as the boys, theirs is blind hatred regardless of who you are. Hers is through them, they are her looking glass rightfully so, so if they say it then their word is law. I’m not sure about you but I would definitely be mindful of the girl who was raised semi normal and willingly turned into a killer for Mukuro of all people. They’re killing adults not shaking them up, they aren’t Tsuna and his friends they finish the job when necessary. The body count is unimaginable. She is just as loyal as Ken and Chikusa and would probably strike you where you stand for speaking ill of him. (She wouldn’t but would definitely be opposed to whatever you’re saying, unless it’s name calling. He takes no offense to that and welcomes it in fact.)

3. The fact that she’s a person apart from Mukuro (physically speaking.) and the Vongola team at all is a blessing in few fics. Although she was made to stand in for Mukuro, when he is released it’s not necessary hence him pushing her to be apart from him and his duties. He did this in the future as well when he possessed Guidio Greco no longer using chrome which lets us know she was successful in becoming a useful comrade and not just a vessel and vongola stand in. She had to otherwise he would’ve left her alone whether she was keeping his Vongola ring warm or not. She is just as aloof as Hibari, always off with her own people only engaging when it’s asked of her. I adore when people keep that in mind and don’t lump her with following behind the vongola as if she were one of them. She shows up for them when asked but her main focus is ultimately committing felonies with Ken and Chikusa per Mukuro’s orders. let her be with the kokuyo gang and let her contribute in the way she’s meant to as a fighter. figure her out give her something cool 

 ik that’s hard considering what we got in the manga. warning things i hate ahead 

what we got in the Anime and Manga: 

so we know Chromes entire purpose was to be Rokudo Mukuro’s stand in, while holding the Vongola ring he soon takes back she is just the girl that is able to get him to come fight their battles when necessary. The Anime and Manga rarely let Chrome fend for herself. We all knew he was coming the second it got serious. By giving chrome that ring she ended up being the one thing to keep him loyal to his contract with being their guardian. If she’s in danger he comes and saves her, the Vongola put her in danger because he will show up and do his job it’s like a rat trap. She is not meant to be a Vongola guardian but more like a Mukuro whistle. They never openly admit it but in the show they will expect/ask her to do things that her track record doesn’t imply she can do and just silently expect Mukuro to show up like always. SKSJDWDN they’ll be like “oh yeah call the girl who passed out and all her organs disappeared I believe in her to do this job even though i’ve never seen her make it to the end of a fight ever not worried at all” sksksjjd They never actually expect chrome to do a job they expect her to go there and manage to get Mukuro to come out and play and we should acknowledge it was just an unspoken thing.  Now I know that despite what I just implied about her not being that great a fighter but just good enough there are two comments made in all 400 chapters that are supposed to negate this.  

Mammon says her illusions are powerful just not enough to fool him , and reborn says she could turn the tide if she were to fight against Mukuro but with confidence, these mean nothing to me because amano throws in so many useless comments like this and then fails to develop it further to make it believable.  and she made powerful characters make note of this so it would be non negotiable and we would just take it at face value because its them but hello ?? ofc we want to see it just like we had to see Tsuna grow before we even considered taking him seriously. hell Dino got a quicker rise to his title than chrome bc its that easy to say oh he can come into his own when needed they just never meant to do it for chrome. 

it’s so irritating when they try to say she’s powerful or could be but give no actual footing for anyone to take those comments seriously when they make her pass out for thirty chapters after doing the bare minimum.

let chrome win on her own not just start strong then step out of the way then have some character say “no really she could be powerful we aren’t going to show you though” .  

when she helped them sneak in the base on her own and even makes those illusions of them fighting we should have gotten more of that!!! 

literally every character is fighting the funeral wreaths and chrome is running in the woods out of breath...even Lambo got to fight. 

you made her sit out of the rep battle to focus on making organs like that wasn’t something she already accomplished in the future and suddenly can’t do anymore ?.....

Chrome finally makes one fighting decision and its to make a mist forcefield that’s dangerous but hell yeah we think she will finally pull through with something powerful and prove herself and then they have mukuro come in a panel later saying “your flames are far too weak to do that I will make it better and help you not die” BYE  that was a perfect time to have her come in to her own seeing as she was powerful and confident enough to initiate it in the first place. 

breaking the barrier daemon spade makes * chefs kiss * give me more 

 when they’re not blindly robbing chrome of character development  she’s just getting kidnapped, passing out  or helping them with small things like making a fake Yamamoto for a party or sneaking in the base with illusions to disguise them. Hello she’s training under mukuro right ??? why did we ever get to see her get stronger each fight and have them say ‘she’s learning quick” instead. 

enough abt what we got, back to what I’ve managed to make out of the scraps we were given..

4. Mukuro is the only one who reassures that she actually is a fighter and she eventually grows to be a good one bc of this and you should write about that dynamic and why it exists more. this one is long.

 the whole dynamic I was referring to exploring is the one where Mukuro and chrome are meant to be equals. He meets this girl whose been neglected and left for dead, another kid messed up by adults neglectful selfish behavior. she willingly follows the boy who is plagued by the same demons and made a small group dedicated to getting revenge for it.  Mukuro & Chrome know they’re two sides of the same coin. he is anger and she is acceptance. He probably finds it amusing she isn’t as angry as them wants to draw it out of her  where as chrome wants to pull out the peace that comes with moving on once you’re in a better place. the girl is so happy to not be near her mom and grateful for this little family while the boys are quite literally holding a grudge against the world.  and like none of them even see it the way she does but she wants them to.  Mukuro and chrome didn’t go through the same things but it doesn’t matter to either of them because its the same story, nobody loved or valued them enough to protect them. In the end chrome will learn to be angry abt things that happen and use that to find a will to fight for something and Mukuro will learn to be at peace because they’re not in that lab anymore and those people are gone from their life. as fighters they’re so important to each others balance Mukuro’s rage cannot be left to be so blind and hers unattended and i know it’s supposed to be Tsuna that cleans his soul but i think chrome definitely plays a more active role in that.  I think he sees a better him in her, he makes her his second gives her his name because she’s the good he knows he can never fully be. she posses a peace he’s not hopeful enough to believe he can achieve or want and ultimately it will make her far more capable of the change he wants. in believing this it means he also believes she will be just as powerful as him with the right training. he’s literally training his demise and her name is Chrome. he wont take over a (mafia) world he wants her to save.  we all know he’s like annoyingly stupid when it comes to showing his emotions, he rather pretend he’s sending you to die when he’s quite literally ushering you to what he thinks is safe and sacrificing himself. so I can totally see him being like  “okay Tsuna might really change the mafia and I want to see that but I've already dug my own grave here's a better newer me that will be way easier to accept than me turning over a new leaf 40 dead families later.” 

5. in the future Hibari is much more happy to help and be around because he knows what a powerful fighter Tsuna turns out to be, i think this is the exact same reason why he goes and helps chrome save herself. Kyoya knows and possibly even respects future chrome enough to save her when she’s at her weakest which he usually detests. Chrome grows to be much more in the future and that’s exactly why he even gives this sick chrome a push. everyone likes to think it’s a Mukuro thing for him but what if it actually is a chrome thing. in the show he’s never been present to witness her show any kind of power so we can only assume that at some point he saw her in action. 

  6. it’s implied in the future that Mukuro fights alongside her, he views her as more than just a vessel and doesn’t baby her in the slightest when he pushes her to become her own being. I won’t call it respect per say but he doesn’t look at her as a doll even though that’s the part she played for him. He still trains her the way he eventually does Fran. We all know he just wants Mini Mukuros to aid him in his endeavors but the fact that he chooses her says a lot about how she’s meant to be viewed. He also chooses a nine year old brat with an apple hat but hey he must see something everyone else doesn’t until he’s done with them seeing as Fran was kidnapped by the freaking Varia once Mukuro’s teachings were for the most part implemented. “Oh you learned under Mukuro ? We can’t have Mukuro you need to join us immediately” (I’ve just realized Mukuro gave the vongola their strongest mist guardians all while claiming to hate them. Funny man). imagine how powerful Chrome gets, even better when Mukuro is actually there in the flesh to teach her where as Fran got some illusionary version of him. WRITE ABOUT IT. 

7. for the love of god give that girl her own fighting style. yamamoto has his sword gokudera is literally baby genius ryohei is a boxer and hibari has like the most random weapon ever. go crazy. i love it when chrome isn’t pulling a trident from her bag. because she’s not mukuro anymore. she’s a reticent mist guardian, compliment that.  Mukuros trident has his own history with him. give her some history of her own.    

in my fic Chrome uses a scythe and tears through reality with it. 

reason:  because she is a grim reaper in her own right. she rose from the dead and is showing up to collect the souls of the wicked. a silent but fearsome person. 

her style ? :  personally I like to believe chrome dabbles in profiling, hear me out. Her parents were neglectful and in turn she really has little experience with relationships in general, i think her curiosity would lead her to constantly study peoples relationships and behaviors and see how they affect her target. aka she fights by showing up getting in your head and haunting you with your own past because even if they see through it damn what a nasty wound or insecurity to bring up in the form of a hell loop illusion. this also ties into her being Mukuro 2.0 he’s known to just be eerily in the know of everything going on even when he’s not there. this would be a great way of her matching that aspect of him and possibly surpassing it.