#so she's valid in being a bit defensive

[spacedace]

The one where Elle keeps having to deal with her boyfriends’ family members breaking into her home Part 1 (Jon/Damian/Elle secret dating nonsense):

-

Dick finds out about Damian’s girlfriend at the same time he meets her for the first time.

Normally something as momentous as discovering that his babiest brother had a dating life would have been cause for excitement and joy. Damian had grown a lot from those early years, but Dick still worried about him. Since moving out and into his own apartment he seemed more likely than ever to avoid people, even - maybe especially - the family. He still came over to the manor regularly, but it was rare than at anyone outside of Alfred even saw him outside of patrol or working on cases. He showed up, spent time with Batcow and Alfred-the-Cat and Ace, then left before anyone saw him.

So finding out that Damian had a girlfriend - let alone one he was serious enough about that they lived together - should have been the highlight of the week, maybe even the month!

Unfortunately for him, however, the excitement of it all was rather dimmed by the concussion of said girlfriend hitting him over the head with a baseball bat with the force of a freight train after assuming he was a stranger breaking into her home.

In hindsight secret live in girlfriend may have been the reason Damian had been so squirrelly about any of them coming over to his place.

Secret Live In Girlfriend - name pending - was currently dialing someone on the phone, most likely the police. Which meant that Babs’ system was going to flag a B&E at Damian’s apartment mere minutes after he’d told her he was crashing at Baby Bird’s apartment. Which meant that Secret Live In Girlfriend wasn’t going to be so secret anymore since Robin was on patrol and would have never called the cops anyway if he had been home when someone broke in. Provided half a dozen Bats didn’t come crashing in via the balcony door the second they get wind something was happening at Damian’s place before Robin could even try and explain what was happening. And wouldn’t that be a cherry on top of the embarrassing sundae his first impression with Damian’s significant other was shaping up to be so far.

“Hey, so uh.” Secret Live In Girlfriend said from her place perched on top of the kitchen island, Titus at her feet and bright green bat - or no, was that a collapsible baton? It was hard to tell, he hadn’t been hit that hard since the last time Bane went on a rampage, it was honestly impressive such a petite woman had that kind of strength in her - held securely in her other hand. Her eyes never left Dick from where he was bound and gagged on one of the kitchen chairs. “Sorry to call so late Day, but a fucking cop just broke into the apartment.”

Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about how they were going to explain why half the vigilantes in Gotham were busting in to her boyfriend’s apartment in response to a break in. He was slightly concerned at the fact that she had apparently swiped everything from his pockets at some point while she’d been maneuvering him into the kitchen chair without him noticing, but she had hit him pretty hard and the concussion was bad enough that he was pretty sure he was going to be benched by Alfred for a while once he got checked out. He probably just hadn’t noticed with how badly his ears were ringing and he was fighting the sudden intense urge to vomit.

More important than all that though, Secret Live In Girlfriend called Damian Day, and even though she was glaring daggers at Dick her face softened as she focused in on listening to Damian’s voice and awww she really was completely smitten with his baby brother that is the cutest shit ever and he can’t wait to tell everyone about it as soon as she lets him go.

“Want me to take care of him?”

Provided she doesn’t let him go in an entirely more permanent way.

Holy fuck she didn’t even hesitate before asking her boyfriend if Damian wanted her to kill a man for him. That was her first question out the gate. No hey should I call the police or do you know this man no just straight for do you want me to make him disappear? She’d even tucked her phone between her ear and shoulder so she had a free hand to pet Titus while she asked, the big ol’ hellhound leaning in happily to the ear scritches and entirely unbothered by Dick’s predicament, casual as anything as she asked Damian if he wanted her to murder his brother for him.

Dick watched as Secret Live In Girlfriend listed to whatever it was Damian was saying, her hard glare easing a little as she did. At length she let go of the day-glow-green baton and plucked up Dick’s wallet, flipping it open to peer at his license.

“ID says Richard Grayson.” She said, pausing again to listen to Damian again, eyes flicking up towards Dick again as she did. “Oh shit, your brother Richard?” Secret Live In Girlfriend’s eyes went wide, face losing all traces of that frigid distrust she’d been leveling at him, expression rapidly turning towards surprised and embarrassed. “���I think I gave him a concussion.” She said, looking sheepish. “You uh…you finish up at work. I’m going to just…untie him and uh…get him to a hospital.” Whatever Damian said next made the young woman laugh, eyes sparkling as she looked down at Titus. “I’ll let him know. Be safe out there.” Her expression turned warm and soft at what Damian said next over the phone, “Love you too, Day.”

Oh shit. Oh shit. I love you too. As in, Damian had said I love you. Like, obviously they had probably gotten to that point of their relationship to break out the L word if they were living together, but Dick could count on one hand the number of times Baby Bird had said that to someone in their family in all the years since he’d moved in. And he said it first! Without prompting! Or someone being about to die!

Dick was still riding the wave of that stunning revelation of his little brother’s emotion growth when Secret Live In Girlfriend came into focus in front of him, the gross, now slightly damp sock she’d shoved in his mouth earlier in hand and a concerned furrow in her brow and - ah shit he lost time there for a bit didn’t he? Yeah, Alfred was definitely going to bench him for this one. Seriously Dami’s girlfriend was no joke with that baton of hers.

“I’m so sorry again about this,” Secret Live In Girlfriend said, “I just heard the door and I knew Day wasn’t going to be back home for hours yet and Jon is doing that thing with his dad tonight -“ She’d tossed the sock over her shoulder and Titus happily snatched it up and carried it off to his bed in the living room to destroy. “Are you - actually I’m not going to ask that, you’re for sure not okay. I hit you pretty hard.”

Oh, so Jon knew about Secret Live In Girlfriend. Yeah that made sense.

He and Damian had been best friends since they were kids - as much as Damian had tried to deny it when they were still little - and even if Dami had been successful in keeping his family of detectives off the scent of his love life, there was no way that he was going to keep that from Jon Kent. Superboy Jr. practically lived at Damian’s place. They were practically attached at the hip, there was no way Dami could sneak something as big as that past Jon.

“No worries!” He tried to wave her concern off - she’d untied him during his little lapse in memory, that was nice, she tied knots better than most rogues in the city and even without a head wound he probably wouldn’t have been able to get out of them on his own - but it made him sway a little which probably wasn’t all that reassuring. “I did break in. I didn’t tell Damian I was coming over or anything, I just figured I’d crash on his couch for the night. Sorry to scare you!”

He flashed his most charming smile and hoped that the blood dripping down his face didn’t diminish it too much. This was already a disaster of a first impression, and Damian had said he loved her Dick was not going to be the one to chase her off.

Secret Live In Girlfriend - he really hoped she didn’t introduce herself during that minute or two he couldn’t remember - rolled her eyes. “It’d take a lot more than some cop breaking in to my house to scare me.” She said, voice so sure that even if Dick hadn’t heard her casually offer to murder him on Damian’s whim he would believe her. “Here, let me grab the first aid kit so we can at least clean you up a bit and then I can take you to the hospital.”

Dick gave what he hoped was a brilliant smile and a thumbs up before tipping sideways and throwing up all over her shoes.

So much for salvaging the first impression.

[so-sick-of-17]

Did I pause a as minute into an episode of Cobra Kai I was watching with my family to spend 20 minutes defending Sam LaRusso? Yes. Yes I did.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

... y'all know Lae'zel is acting scared, right?

Video transcription: I've seen a lot of comments on my short about Lae'zel dismissing her entire character because she's mean and… I'm just checking in here… you guys know she's scared, right? She's terrified. She was kidnapped by the worst monster she knows, infected with the most horrifying death anyone in her culture can have, and then stranded on a hostile world, alone, with nothing to guide her except the dogmatic military cult indoctrination of a cruel lich demigod, telling her that her only hope of salvation is to follow Gith doctrine with total unyielding faith. And still she tries to save you. When she keeps insisting that you must get to the Githyanki crèche, it's our only hope, she's trying to guide you towards the only salvation she knows from the parasite, so she can share it with you. And Gith... aren't supposed to do that, saving an outsider is not part of the doctrine, she's breaking the rules trying to do right by you. None of that means she's not being an asshole, she's rude, dogmatic and unpleasant. But everything she does comes from a genuine, very misguided and abrasive, desire to do the right thing. It doesn't make her behaviour okay, but there is more to her character than just "being the mean one."

To expand on this a bit more than I can in a 60 second short, people acting from fear and from their damage is a major theme among the Baldur's Gate 3 companions.

Lae'zel is terrified and falling back on the only thing she believes will give her back some control over her situation, which is the dogma of the military cult she's in. Shadowheart is much the same, amnesiac and grasping on to the only solid thing she knows, which is her faith, which preaches deception, loss and duplicity as the only certain factors in life.

Gale is an inveterate people-pleaser desperately dependent on other people to help him feed his magic addiction, with his overtly affable exterior hiding a rolling boulder of guilt, ambition, greed, arrogance and legitimate hurt. Asterion is... well, no way to really lay out his deal without spoiling, but the boy has been through it and his self-destructive, hedonistic and selfish impulses are all coping mechanism and self-defense all the time.

None of that make their shitty behaviours okay, but in a fictional story, those kinds of flaws and toxic behaviours are what make for interesting stories and characters. I don't blame anyone for finding Lae'zel unpleasant and abrasive, but I do get a bit Old Man Yells At Cloud about people who casually brag about shoving her off a cliff-side, or murdering her because "she was a bitch" or whatever.

Like... being unable to face discomfort in your media is not a virtue, and lashing out reactively against fiction that doesn't validate your power fantasy isn't a flex.

Of course, I saw a lot of those reactions in YouTube comments and on social media, so my sample is biased by those algorithms, but still. A lot of people seem aggressively proud that they never engaged with her story because the terrified indoctrinated child-soldier wasn't immediately nice to them and I can't explain it but something about that reaction feels puritan to me.

[inbarfink]

Okay, so I already wrote a bunch of stuff about how that scene, although it is really sweet, is also kind of a Bad Sign for Simon - how he refuses to learn the Obvious Lesson from the Winterworld adventure (that being the Ice King again is probably a really really bad idea). But I want to talk about it also a little more about what it means for Fionna’s character as well. 

Because while sitting around and wallowing in self-loathing is probably bad for Fionna, especially after being told that she shouldn't be allowed to exist, and Simon is right to try and get her out of her funk. It's also still worthwhile for Fionna to have some introspection about the Consequences of Her Actions. Because she and Cake really did not consider them at all at first. They have a sense of morality and an instinct towards heroism, but they also tend to kinda forget the fantastical worlds they visit don’t exist entirely for their fantasy and have kind of a Protagonist-Centered-Morality fallacy. 

Most obviously you can see it in the market in Ooo. How Cake, in her excitement, damaged and hurt and even killed

A bunch of innocent marketgoers without even noticing. And then Fionna immediately jumped to Cake’s defense against these ‘weirdos’, who were actually just normal kinda-righteously-angry Oooian citizens.

It’s actually very similar to the whole Winterworld situation. Fionna’s assumption that she’s automatically the hero and protagonist of the story and black-and-white view of the situation and her tendency to kick ass first and ask questions later meant that she just recklessly injured a lot of innocent people.

(It might’ve been worse actually cause at least in Winterworld she was at least manipulated by an evil Wizard)

Fionna and Cake clearly have a great potential for heroism, but they do need to be a bit more considerate of the situation and people around them. And it does make sense considering that from their perspective - they’ve been living a very ordinary life up until now (and Cake was literally an animal. A very clever animal, but still not bound by the same standards of morality as the talking animals in Ooo). Action and adventure and fantasy stuff has been purely the realm of daydream and video games for them - and Fionna literally speaks about it in these terms.

(also, Fionna's Main Character Syndrome was undoubtedly validated when God literally told her that she was created to be the main character of her universe)

So yeah, it takes them some time to really process how to be heroes - they need to grapple with questions that Finn and Jake already kinda dealt with seventeen years ago. And actually a lot of those; how to resolve a situation without necessarily using violence, when does a 'villain' actually deserve sympathy and kindness, the importance of the larger context of any given conflict... their confrontations with Ice King all played a big part in that. It was never just him, but he was still a very major part.

And for Fionna and Cake right now, learning these lessons require some amount of personal introspection. So while it was a sweet attempt at comforting, I dunno if Simon’s little ‘the only problem with that universe is that this Alternative Me was terrible because he didn’t even acknowledge or remember Betty as the love of our life and the light of my entire universe’ thing is actually Good. 

I’m not quite sure Simon is the best person to teach Fionna and Cake heroism 101, because he is so focused on the Crown Quest as the thing that brings back Meaning to his life, and because his fatherly instincts just kinda go “Sad Young Person???? MUST GIVE COMFORT!” and also on account of the kidnapping.

I’m sure Fionna is going to become the heroine she dreams about eventually, it’s just going to be a bumpy ride. The best we can hope for is that they accept Simon’s comfort, that she doesn't start believing that she is nothing but an Error for the entire universe like the Scarab claims, but don’t necessarily listen to all of Simon's his words either.

[sharkylass]

ALRIGHT IN STARS AND TIME FANDOM, I'M BOUT TO HIT YOU WITH MY TAKE ON THE BELOVED SISTER!!

Those who don't want to get spoiled about little details about Bonnie's sister (or the game at all for that matter- There's spoilers for Act 3 and 4 in here so YOU'VE BEEN WARNED)

SAY HELLO TO PETRONILLE!! Or how I am going to call her, Nil. I've seen a few people do their take on her, and I wanted to join in!

@insertdisc5 I am sorry in advance if you have a vision for her, especially if it is WILDLY different to mine-

KEEP IN MIND, I AM GOING TO BE RANTING A LOT, IVE HAD THIS IN THE MAKING FOR A WHILE, THERE'S MORE ART, SO SKIP AHEAD IF YOU'D LIKE

First thing's first! I tried to figure out what she would look like in the original style. I didn't want to overly detail her with my normal style, and I wanted her to somewhat fit in with the rest. Bonnie was clearly the strongest inspiration , she has their eyes, the black hair, white thing around their head to bring attention to her face- That's also why she has lip piercings! To bring more attention to her face (and due to Bonnie's earring type, I assumed piercings can exist in the world)

Her ear has 3 earrings, that was not intentional, I just thought it was cool. I like to think they perceive those as "regular" earrings, and even if a person wears bonding earrings, they can also wear more normal earrings.

I just had the image of her not really having a short range weapon, so maybe it's time for someone with a semi-long range weapon to join the team! In my head Nil seemed to be the type to like getting dirty with her hands, so a rope seemed fitting somehow.

Also- She is paper type! I liked the idea of her looking like such a rock type, but being paper. I considered making her dual type, but since those are rare, I didn't want to get ahead of myself. Admittedly, that does make the party a little overloaded with paper types, so if she was to be in a game with balancing, I'd probably change her to rock or something. BUT AS A CHARACTER THING- she remains paper.

(EDIT: I was just reminded of the huge hammer she broke a wall with, so that is ABSOLUTELY a valid replacement weapon for her. If she was rock type that would be her weapon for sure. Altho it IS funny to imagine she broke the wall and swore off heavy weapons for life. I like to think thats what happened with my take on Nil)

Mechanically I think she wouldn't be too dissimular to Isabeau, but instead of boosting the party, she debuffs the enemy. Particularly slowing them down, and lowing defense. Alternatively, I can see her being a second healer of sorts, but while Mira is good at healing everyone, Nil is good at healing a single person and giving them a boost (just things she learned to take care of Bon). I do see her attack not being that high tho, probably lower then Mira.

ALRIGHT, TIME FOR MORE ART

Her dynamics with everyone:

Bonnie:

I like to think Bonnie got their spunky attitude from somewhere. So I like to think Nil is very playful with them, even if she is looking out for them. Bonnie clearly knows the difference between lighthearted serious, and SERIOUS serious. They also seem to revel in compliments, so I like to imagine they are used to receiving them from their sister!

Nil is the most serious around Bonnie tho. As their sole caretaker, she's trying her best to keep them out of trouble while teaching them and letting them grow at a normal pace.

However, when she's with the adults- I described it like- Around Bonnie she can be serious and a voice of reason. When she's with adults tho she herself becomes the Bonnie, so to speak. She's loud and a bit hot-headed.

Mirabelle:

I swear I saw Insertdisc mention that Mira and Nil would have a bit of a rivalry going on AND I'M SO HERE FOR IT-

The two of them are those siblings that fight constantly, but the moment someone else gives either of them shit, the other will go for the jugular. They mainly try to compete for Bon's affection and who's the better sister, and they get a bit... blindsighted. Nil usually doesn't go out of her way to spoil Bonnie I don't think, I think she tries to be reasonable with them where she can. However with Mira in the picture it becomes- a little hard... Nil doesn't like the thought that she's being replaced

However, if either of them needs it, the other will be there. Nil provides Mira with a strong shoulder to lean on, and Mira provides an emotional yet reasonable approach to the situation bothering Nil.

Odile:

I like to think at first Nil didn't really get along with Odile. Supposedly Nil has a bad relationship with her parents, so I imagine her seeing someone who's a parent aged adult who holds seemingly more authority- It would... Unnerve her for a little while.

Odile will probably give her something to do, and Nil would refuse, because who is Odile to be ordering her around?? You know. Like a child. But with time they get used to the dynamic, Nil grows to respect Odile at the very least, and Odile picks up on the fact Nil seems to respond positively to positive reinforcement from her.

Having someone close, to break that pre build idea in Nil's head with positivity, despite Odile being strict and struggling to show affection- It would do her a lot of good, and Nil will eventually thank her, and apologize for being so rough to her in the beginning.

Isabeau:

Isa and Nil are actually very similar- I did not mean for it, but I hope they don't end up being TOO similar.

They are both loud, love to laugh and take care of those they love. Even their hobbies are a bit more similar then everyone else. Nil likes gardening, and taking care of things, and Isa likes to create clothes. Both of them are in a way creating something. Nil making sure what she's taking care of grows to be big and strong, and Isa is more literal-

Where they differ is in smarts partly. Isa is clearly very book smart. I think Nil would turn to him if she had a general question about something (and later on Odile once she gets used to her). She completely encourages him to show more of what he knows.

They also differ in their buffness slightly. While Isa is still the beefiest on the team, he did it with the intention, he trained. Meanwhile I think Nil just likes the field work so she's constantly outside doing heavy dirty work.

I like to think that after being unfrozen, Nil's clothes were roughed up and she didn't really think to or have the time to fix it. So I imagine Isa saw the roughed up state of her pants and gloves, and made her some himself, Which she treasures but GOD she is not used to receiving anything from anyone, LET ALONE gifts.

They also similarly hide their insecurities under bavado. Isa hides his smarts to be liked, and Nil hides her fears so she can be brave. I'll go more into detail when I get to Nil's own section. (I SWEAR I didn't mean for Isa's section to be so long I PROMISE-)

Siffrin:

These two don't do a lot of talking I'd imagine. While Nil is used to being loud, I think she'd get used to the silence around Sif and simply enjoy the quiet.

A lot of the ideas I had with those two were very touch focused. I assume Nil struggles with touch because of potential childhood related traumas, and not being warned sends her into a fight or flight. While Sif is deeply unused to it but craves it.

I still imagine Nil isn't an inherently NOT touchy person- I mean. Bon's the touchiest little guy out there. So maybe she knows how to warn people of when she's about to touch them, AND she is more used to asking for hugs and affection. So after she learns that Sif struggles asking and being startled, she became the person that would encourage them and tell them how to do it. In every single drawing where they're touching just know that either she warned them or they asked for that touch.

Also Nil is a very grounding reminder for Sif that he's not in the loops anymore. So if they get a particular scare, like they were woken up wrong, they had a rough sleep, smelled a banana, remembered the king- anything involving going back- Nil serves as a reminder that they're here, with everyone, in the present. No going back. So that, combined with their touch therapy, it results in him being particularly physically clingy with her. She squeezes their hand ocassionally. It's a grounding reminder.

Nil is also UNBELIEVABLY THANKFUL for Sif, once she learns about how they lost their eye. The fact Sif went out of their way to protect HER little sibling- It means the world to her, and she wouldn't wish it on Sif one bit. She probably holds guilt that she couldn't take the hit for both of them, Bonnie is her responsibility! They probably end up having a conversation similar to Sif telling Mira "Do you think she was wrong? To save you?" She doesn't know about the end of act 3

AAAAAND NIL HERSELF!

A lot of this is already information I mentioned. Her being a paper type, her liking bugs, being traumatized, startled by touch- But I drew these beforehand, so!

I imagine Nil ran away young, cause Bonnie doesn't remember her running from their parents. What happened in there, I do not know and I don't think I'm capable of imagining. It might not even be as dramatic as I illustrated it. But either way, she grew up being the sole caretaker of Bonnie. I'm sure Vaugardians were kind and that they didn't have to struggle too hard for food or a place, or to get Bonnie into a school- But Nil still wanted to learn how to be self sufficient, how to provide in case something happens. It might be why they live in Bambouche honestly, Nil learned how to grow plants and being close to the sea is good for catching a lot of fish! ...It was also at the edge of Vaugarde. Probably the edges where the King's curse reached slower.

She likes getting her hands dirty and working outside, so I imagine she's a bit sunburnt! If only on her shoulders and cheeks.

Growing up alone, self sufficient- She probably had to grow a bit fast (even if she indulges in childish things with Bonbon). She quickly started repressing all fears, all questions of her decision to run away. I imagine she's actually insecure in her abilities, how Bon deserves more capable people in their life, how she doesn't really know anything and how she literally got frozen and Bonnie had to fend for themselves- After Bon comes back, she's so filled with admiration and adoration for her little sibling. They really went to the ends of the earth and saved the world. What a brave little sibling she has.

The new family kind of... Feels like a threat to her title as sister at the start. All 5 of them saved a country. The people Bonnie met are strong, knowledgeable, been all over the world- She's glad they protect Bonnie. She just wishes she had something to offer. It takes her a little while to realize they are also there for her too.

I was ranting to a friend, and I am pretty sure we know Nil would like to travel after everything. Being able to explore her more child like fantasies, with the safety blanket that is the family- It means a lot to her. She gets to truly indulge in living and letting loose and depending on people for the first time in her life.

Afterwards tho... I like to imagine she would settle down. It takes a while, but she likes having a place to call her own. And so we talked about how she would probably have a ranch of some sort. I like to imagine she'd love having horses. A way for her to remain free spirited, while taking care of creatures and having the security of a place to rest at the end of the day. And if she chooses, she can go wherever she wants with those bad boys!

My friend mentioned they might have goats or sheep or chicken, and I'm all aboard for that too. I'm not settled on the idea of a farm life for her, but I like it.

Also if I dare pull a Dreaming One for a second- Bonnie and Sif are like little siblings to her, Mira is like a twin (or relatively same aged), Isa is like an older brother, and Odile the everlasting grandma.

ALRIGHT THAT TOOK A WHILE-

Sorry, I started drawing her for fun and just started BRAINROTTING about her out of nowhere.

I still have little doodle ideas but this was already getting so lengthy so I am going to leave it here, and maybe return another day.

I just deeply wanted to establish Nil as her own character who can fit within the group's dynamic and belong in the family. While she very much IS Bonnie's sister and that's such a big part of her, I wanted to expand her a little further.

If you took the time to read, THANK YOU. I HOPE YOU LIKE HER, AND THAT YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL REST OF YOUR DAY

P.S. IF YOU DRAW OR WRITE WITH HER I BEG YOU TO TAG ME

[missmeinyourbones]

hi!!! can i request megumi + "it's okay, we're the best of friends." congrats on the big milestone!! 🤍🤍

IT'S OKAY, WE'RE THE BEST OF FRIENDS (m. fushiguro)

L's MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

The only sound in your room is the cat clock ticking away on your wall, and you can't even hear it over the obnoxious thumping of your heart inside your throat.

Megumi sits like a statue on the corner of your neatly made bed, as awkward and out of place as he always does.

As if he isn't constantly coming over to your place. Like he doesn’t fall asleep on your couch at least once a week and knows that your shower’s water pressure sucks. That your shampoo is on the left and your conditioner on the right. 

He hasn't said anything, and you know he won't unless you do first, so you brace yourself to be the bigger person—even if you are mentally praying for a satellite to crash into your tiny two-bedroom apartment so you can avoid this stupidly awkward conversation. 

When it's apparent that there's no outside mishap (miracle) coming to interfere, you swallow your pride and open your mouth.

Fuck.  

"Look," you begin weakly, before clearing your throat and trying again, "I'm really sorry about… that."

That being your roommate referring to a blushing Megumi as your boyfriend when he showed up at your place for this week’s movie night.

And in your roommate's defense, it’s not even an unreasonable mistake on her end. You two don't really know much about one another's personal lives outside of work and the occasional passing kitchen conversation. And sure, Megumi visits a lot, and when he's not at your place, you're at his or out somewhere together. You suppose it’s not terribly out of left field for her to assume the two of you are an item.

But you’re not, and it feels like a pretty fucking big deal right now, as the two of you sit in the silence of your bedroom afraid to so much as swallow too loudly in fear of the other fleeing like a deer in headlights.

Megumi shrugs like he doesn’t care, but you both know he does by the way he fiddles with the hem of his sweatshirt sleeve. 

The action is halfhearted and his silence is so terribly loud that you have the sudden urge to overexplain yourself, so you do. 

"I think she just assumed since we're so close, and you’re always coming over, y’know? Not that that’s a valid reason to assume anything, or that there even is a valid reason at all, but I guess since you're a guy and—"

"It's fine," Megumi answers a bit too quickly. "I mean, we're best friends. People are bound to make that assumption sometimes, right?"

Though clearly flustered, his response is almost automatic, as if he's rehearsed his lines in his mirror for this very moment. It breaks your heart and somehow makes you feel special at the same time. Because sure, he’s letting you down gently, but he’s letting you down, gently. 

Shakily, you exhale and play it cool with a (totally not disappointed) nod, "Right." 

Wrong, your heart aches. It’s not often in your daily lives that people assume the two of you are together.

Or maybe they do, and you don't notice it anymore. Maybe you've become accustomed to the way the waitress at the diner you two go to on the weekend no longer asks if you want separate checks, but instead automatically hands the bill to Megumi and shoots you a wink. You're now immune to the way older couples coo when you two walk the streets, Megumi pushing you to the inner side away from the street. The way guys don’t really flirt with you at bars anymore, the way women no longer ask to pet Megumi’s dogs when you're by his side.

Maybe.

After a moment or two of you being lost in thought, Megumi clears his throat.

He speaks softly and casually, "Gojo does it, too."

His words confuse you, "What?"

Megumi second-guesses his nonchalant tone when he needs to repeat himself. He trips over his own tongue when clarifying, "He thinks—that we're like… together." 

Your throat suddenly feels like you've swallowed sand.

Gojo? The same Gojo who knows Megumi inside out? Who’s known you since you were sixteen years old, who pretended to ignore you sneaking in through Megumi's window and let you steal his cheap alcohol on Friday nights? Gojo thinks the two of you are together? 

"Oh," is all you can muster like a fool, before following it up with a meek, "he does?"

"He’s an idiot,” Megumi scoffs but nods. “Always calls you my girl, which I tell him is stupid and sexist when he literally knows your name, but he never listens." 

The words have your heart by the throat and again, all you can muster is a pathetic, "Really?"

"Yeah," he's not sure what possesses him to go on, but Megumi finds himself continuing. "Even just now when I left, he was on the phone with someone like ‘Megumi's leaving to go to his girl's place,’ or whatever."

The words set you on fire, and you think about how stupid that is. How simple words strung together can have such a huge effect on you. Words that if someone else said would mean nothing, might even make your nose scrunch in secondhand embarrassment. But here they come from Megumis lips, about you, and even if they’re from Gojo they still feel like something raw and buzzing with something sweet. 

"Just—don't feel weird about it, okay?” he feels the need to softly clear the air. “She's not the only one who does it." 

His words dance throughout your body like a drug as they play on repeat in your mind. Not the only one who does it.

Random people on the street. Your roommate. Fucking Gojo. People from all areas of your life, all agreeing that you and Megumi are something more than friends. You don’t know why the thought makes your chest tighten, and you don’t know why you kind of love it.  

"Okay," you breathlessly sigh, though you've barely spoken for the last few minutes.

Megumi echoes your breathlessness when he whispers back, "Okay."

“…”

"So... did you pick a movie?"

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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[wolfytoothy]

BEAT THEY AHH

This was recommended by one of my bookie wookies @liauroo

No offence to all the Tiffany’s out there😅.

You don’t know what happened, but all you remember is you laying on the floor, barely unable to move, then the sound of an ambulance, and miles face, him saying words but it came out muffled.

Now your here.

Sitting in a hospital bed, with a busted up face.To be specifice a bloody nose, busted lip,bruised cheek, knuckles, and a sprained ankle.“MA, what happened!?” Miles asked, bursting into the room with a worried expression. “ Well got into a lil brawl apparently” you said sheepishly as you nervously laughed. “Did you win- I mean, With who? when? Why?” He asked as he cupped your face. “With Tiffany, during the second period, cuz she was talking through her neck and thinking nothing was gonna happen to her with her stank ass” you sassed, crossing your arms, kissing your teeth as you did. “Actually she got in 2 fights” Someone announced making both you and Miles turn their hands. It was J.B. your best friend. Well about to the EX best friend if she keeps exposing you like this.“TWO” Miles yelled looking at you slightly disappointed. “Wit who?”, “an argument with the kid named Hakeem and a fist fight with Tiffany” J.B. confirmed making you scowl. “Wait, I was just in the period with you, how is that possible?” the man complained.

“Well it all happened when-”

Flash back:

“Ms. Carter, can we please send Miles Morales to the counselor office” The announcements said.

“Yea sure”

The class was in the middle of a group project till he got called. Everyone feared Miles, they had so much to say but couldn't say it to his face. It honestly pissed you off. As soon as he closed the door, Hakeem started to stalk his shit. “Uh oh, looks like mama’s boy needs therapy” Hakeem teased. You could feel your soul shift, “well atleast his mama wants him unlike your ass” you muttered, but just enough got him to hear you. The male's eyes widened as he got flushed when some of the people heard you.

Him being aggressive and never shutting up. So when the teacher left the classroom for a bit, he took the opportunity to grab your desk making you face him, there could be a loud screech being heard throughout the class catching everyone's attention. “The fuck did you say lil girl” he spat getting in your face.“If I can smell your breath, then back. Up” you said in a warning tone, fr about to get physical. “

I was talking to you lil girl” he spat grabbing your face, making you grimence as he pulled you closer. Since he touched you first, it would be labeled as self defense. You kicked him in the knee causing him to hunch over.

“Don’t try that shit again with me bitch, next time your ass will be getting mollywhopped.” you spat.

End of flashback:

Miles stared at you with his mouth slightly open. “W-wait he said huh”. “Mhm, he does it everytime” you admit. Miles was high key flabbergasted, then he got himself. “I appreciate you defending me ma, but I can handle it myself” he reassured. “Baby I don’t give a damn, I’m your twin, I’m not gonna let that slide”,

“You're literally in a hospital bed right now”,

“Miles i don’t give a fuck, I should have molly-woped his ass,and it was worth it”.

Miles was disappointed. He pintched his nose bridge and layed back in his chair. “Do I even what, to here the buffoonery you got yourself into with Tiffany” he asked.

“Actually she had a valid point for rocking her shit” J.B. objected, making you nod. “So it all started a lil while back where everyone and they mama was accusing me of flirting with her man, but literally everyone and their mama knows I’m talking to you,” you started as you sat up.

“Right, so what happened?”

“I rocked her shit is what happened”

“Oh sweet jesus”

Flash back:

You were currently on your way to your next period and that required you going down the stairs. As you took the first step you felt hands on the back of your shoulders and a strong ass force pushing you. Making you stumble and literally hit your forehead on the pole. Gasp and laughter erupted as you clutched your head in pain. “Son of a gun” you muttered, feeling a hard pounding run through your head. Then all of a sudden,someone and their hot breath pinned me against the wall. “Yo, what the fuck-” bit before you could finish ou were interrupted.“ so You thought you could flirt with my man and get away with it weirdo”. You instantly knew it was tiffany.

“Yo wa-”, “Answer the fuck question slut” she spat. When you proceed the information, and it all settled in, you realized. She was really playing with her life. But that fall and you hitting your head on that pole really messed you up, and her just pushing you against the wall repeatedly was messing you up more. “Get your hands off me” you yelped, pushing Tiffany's arm off of you as you clutch your head in pain. And just like any girl fight, She pulled your hair, but that didn’t last long when you grabbed the collar of her shirt and tripped her laying her on her back. A move Miles taught you a while ago.

And just for good measure, and for fun, you kicked her in the gut.

But before the fight could even, you blacked out.

End of flashback:

“She pushed you down the stairs!?” he yelled making you recoil a bit at the sudden outburst. “yes that's what I just said bookie. See now if I had caught myself in time, then I wouldn't be in the hospital bed while the doctors try to make sure I have no concussions.” you complained. “Not you still putting her in her place when you were on the verge of dying” Miles chuckled.

“Yea, and from what I’ve heard I sat on top of her, witch I don’t remember” you said genuinely. “Well that part I do remember” he said traumatized, a shiver going down his spine.

“In my defense I’m innocent as can be, They all put their hands on me first, and it’s technically labeled as self defense so I’m not in the wrong” you admit rolling your eyes. “Sweety… no”

“What, it’s a win win anyways, I got sent to the hospital, and she did as well”

“You sent her to the hospital!?”

“Of course, may I remind you she pushed me down stairs, why are you on her side”

“...You know what you're right, lemme’ go pay Hakeem and Tiffany a little visit”.

“Miles, no”

“Trust they will be dealt with”

[missycolorful]

Something really stood out to me during q!Philza's conversation with his eggs when they confronted him about being left behind at Etoiles' house. Because I realized a bit too late what the topic at hand was, and it made me realize why q!Phil was defensive and overexplaining his perspective in a situation where he made a mistake.

Because it's really all about what the situation was: Philza accidentally leaving them behind at Etoiles house. His kids, especially Tallulah, like to joke about being abandoned just for the sake of being dramatic. It's all jokes, yes! But they say as much here, and this time, it's a legitimate statement. He abandoned them, though accidentally. And they took that seriously. And abandon is kind of a scary word here. especially with Tallulah.

Philza knows she doesn't deal with the idea of abandonment well. She doesn't like being left behind, it makes her feel unloved. He doesn't want to do that to her. So when he did something stupid, he tries so hard to let them know that he didn't mean to, that he misunderstood and made a mistake. That he'd never abandon his kids, abandon Tallulah. He's a bit defensive because what they were saying, to him, sounded like they thought what he did was intentional, and that their hurt came from him doing it on purpose. So he overexplains himself so they understand that he wouldn't do that to them.

Of course, the problem is, he did, and even if it's accidental, it's still something that upset them and scared them. And incidental or otherwise, their feelings about the situation are still valid. Sure, nothing really wrong with explaining your perspective on the situation to clear the air, and it's easy to see why Philza would do that especially here. But yeah, q!Phil, you just had a birdbrain moment, you just gotta apologize and be more careful next time, that's all, man! Which, he did several times throughout the interaction, and to me, it seemed like afterward, he was being extra careful to keep an eye on them. So he's taking what came out of this situation fairly seriously!

But what I think is important to remember is that the Death family is so tightly-knit. They're all so important to each other, they rely on each other and they hold no secrets between one another. He never wants his children to think he'd leave them behind for any reason. It's just that he's a birdbrain sometimes, the dumbass <3

EDIT: hello, yes, yes, I talked a bit more about this scene and the implications of what was being discussed here! I even mention why this particular worry has manifested in Tallulah and Chayanne in particular as of recent!

[a-simple-gaywitch]

Amidst the Chaos

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary:  Spencer and (Y/N) didn't get along, and it annoyed the whole BAU. But when a traumatized (Y/N) shows up at Spencer's apartment late one night, their whole relationship shifts

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, references to torture, other canon-typical topics

Word Count:  3827

Author’s Note: not necessarily my best fic, but i’ve been working on it for over a year so... here it is

Orpheus - Sara Bareilles

AO3 Link

“Don't stop trying to find me here amidst the chaos. Though I know it's blinding, there's a way out.” ~ Sara Bareilles, Orpheus

~

“Guys, I want you to meet our newest team member,” Hotch said to the BAU as they settled around the table. “This is Agent (Y/N) (L/N).”

You gave a shy wave to the group in front of you, but your smile was bright enough to light up the entire room. “Hi.”

“She’s coming to us from Organized Crime. I trust that you’ll all welcome her to the team.”

“Honestly, I’m just happy to be given a chance to work with all of you. It’s been my dream to work at the BAU for years.”

“We’ll have time to get to know Agent (L/N) better on the plane. But for now, we have a case,” Hotch said. “JJ?”

~

“So,” Derek said, taking a seat next to you on the jet. “What was Organized Crime like?”

“Honestly? Boring as all hell. It was mostly stopping money laundering and drug cartels,” you said. “Not as glamorous as Goodfellas makes it seem. Besides, the BAU was always my end goal anyway.”

He chuckled a bit. “Yeah, I get that. We’re glad to have you on our team. ” The conversation between you and Morgan flowed easily and before you knew it, you had become like brother and sister. The rest of the team grew to love you too. Well, most of the team. 

Spencer seemed icy and cold toward you, and no one could offer a valid explanation. By all accounts, you should have gotten along. You loved Halloween just as much as Spencer did and you always had at least 3 books on your person at a time. You had a borderline unhealthy addiction to caffeine and sugar and spent more time in the office than your apartment. But for some reason, you and Spencer just seemed to constantly be at each other’s throats. 

In your defense, Reid had started it. 

For whatever reason, Reid disliked you right out the gate. He tried to be civil toward you, but something about you just bothered him. 

He originally just tried to avoid you when he could, but with the nature of the team’s dynamic, that didn’t work out well. 

Spencer found himself doing small, petty things to annoy you, like putting your favorite mug on the top shelf where you couldn’t reach it or borrowing your pens and “forgetting” to return them. Something about seeing you mildly inconvenienced and annoyed as opposed to your normally happy and bubbly self made him feel better. He knew it was fucked up of him. 

Eventually, the animosity became mutual. You and Spencer were rarely paired together on cases because Hotch couldn’t stand the constant arguing between the two of you. Mostly, Hotch tended to pair you with Derek who you began to see as a brother. 

Spencer would never admit it, but seeing you and Derek be as close as you were stirred some kind of jealousy in him. He figured it was just because he had been friends with Morgan first, that was all. 

~

Local cases were always extra stressful on the team. Something about unsubs being so close to home made the cases more personal. As such, tensions were running high and no one had slept in over 24 hours as the team worked to nail down a profile. 

“This doesn’t make sense,” you muttered as you looked over the crime scene photos. “The crime profiles as disorganized but the victimology and timeline profile him as organized.” 

“How you doing there, Pretty Girl?” Morgan asked, setting down a carrier of coffee cups. 

You sighed and picked up the cup with your name scrawled on it. “There’s discrepancies in our preliminary profile and I can’t…”

“Did you try comparing notes with Reid?”

“Derek, I love you, but are you insane?”

“I’m serious, (Y/N).”

“So am I. Any time I try to have any kind of civilized conversation with that man he turns it into an argument.”

Thankfully, Hotch came into the room at that point, stopping the conversation. “We have two potential leads. Morgan, you’re going with Blake to the first address. (L/N), you and Reid are going to the second.” Hotch tossed you both keys for SUVs. “Reid and Blake have the files. They’ll fill you in on the drive.”

“Yes, sir.” You grabbed your coffee from the table, along with Reid’s, and headed out to the car. When you got to the parking lot, Reid was already leaning against the car, flipping through a file folder. “Reid. Here.”

As you handed him the coffee, he said, “What, was everyone else busy?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. I’m just following Hotch’s orders.” You unlocked the car and climbed in. “Where are we going?”

“21 Rock Creek Road, Somerset. We’re interviewing Linda Walsh, the neighbor of our first victim, Savanna Curtis.”

“Great. Can you type it into the GPS?”

“Why? I can just give you the directions.”

“Because the GPS is more accurate.”

“(L/N), I have an eidetic memor-”

“Eidetic memory, I know. But you’re telling me your memory can predict traffic patterns? I don’t think so. Just use the damn GPS.”

“Fine.” Spencer typed the address in, muttering under his breath.

“Thank you. What information do we have on Walsh?”

“72 years old, she was reportedly in the house when Curtis was attacked and taken to the secondary location. Hotch wants us to interview her and see if she noticed anything that might help us with the profile.”

Soon enough, the two of you pulled up to the witness’s house. Before even getting out of the car, you felt like something was wrong. 

”Wait, Reid.” You grabbed his arm as he reached for the door handle. “Something about this doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at the windows. All of them are dark. Not even a television glow. Something’s off.”

“I hate to say it, but you’re right.” 

You hopped out of the car and pulled your gun from your side, following Reid up the path to the house. He knocked on the front door. 

“I don’t hear anything from inside.” He knocked again. “Go around the back, see if you can get in that way.”

You nodded and walked around the house. You could hear Reid continuing to knock as you went around. As you rounded the corner, a sharp pain entered your shoulder. You yelled and turned around, but not before a blunt object hit you in the temple and your vision faded.

~

Spencer was panicking. You were missing, and it was his fault. He was pacing in the front yard of Walsh’s home while the team and the local authorities worked to catch up. 

“Reid, what happened?” Hotch asked. “We need everything.”

Spencer relayed every detail from the moment the two of you pulled up to the house, still pacing. “I shouldn’t have told her to go off on her own, it’s my fault-”

“Kid, breathe,” Morgan told him. “You didn’t know this would happen. What’s important now is finding her and bringing her home safe.”

The team did a thorough inspection on Mrs. Walsh’s home and learned a good deal. Mrs. Walsh wasn’t home, as was reported. However, her son, Devin, was clearly staying with her. It didn’t take the team long to figure out he was the unsub. 

~

When you awoke, you were in a secondary location. Your head was throbbing behind your eyes and your shoulder was in agony. Your arms were tied behind your back, but that was the only restraint to your mobility. You looked around, trying to figure out where you were. It was a large, open space, you guessed a warehouse, probably abandoned. It was dark, except for the glow of the streetlights outside and an industrial lamp in the center of the room. You didn’t have much time to assess your surroundings, though, because Walsh was waiting for you to wake up.

You knew the facts of the case. You saw the photos. He kept the women for 24 hours, torturing them until their bodies were barely recognizable. Then, he’d kill and dump them.

But you also knew your team. They were relentless. And they would save you.

~

“We’ve seen what he does to his victims. We’re in a race against the clock here,” Morgan argued with Hotch.

“But we still have to keep our heads and follow the law. If we don’t get a warrant, any evidence we do find goes right out the window.”

“Guys, Garcia found something,” JJ said. She put her phone on speaker. “Go ahead, Garcia.”

“So, Walsh’s dear old dad was the owner of a warehouse in the 80s. The warehouse is still in his name but has since been abandoned. And before you even ask, yes, I sent you the address.”

~

The SUVs pulled up to the warehouse and the team jumped out. The plan was to enter the building slow and quiet, but that changed when they heard you scream, followed by a gunshot. Then, everything went silent. Completely silent.

Everyone rushed into the building. The team was terrified of what they were about to find. What they saw, no one could have expected. 

You were lying unconscious on the floor, in a pool of blood. Also on the floor, with a bullet hole through his forehead, was Devin Walsh. Standing with a gun in her hands was 72 year old Linda Walsh, tears running down her face. 

“I had to,” she said, looking at Hotch. “He was gonna kill her.”

“We need a medic!”

~

The team was sitting around your hospital bed. The doctor had said you probably wouldn’t wake up for a while, but they were determined to have someone there with you when you did. 

“We should take shifts,” JJ suggested. “That way there’s always someone here and the rest of us can get some rest, too.”

“That’s a good idea. Dave and I can take the first shift,” Hotch said. “We’ll do four-hour rotations in pairs.”

They talked through who would pair up and take what rotations before Rossi shooed the rest of the team out.

Eventually, Reid and Morgan were on their “shift.” Morgan glanced over at Reid, who was staring at the same page of a book. 

“You ever gonna flip that page?”

“What if she doesn’t wake up?”

“Kid, you heard the doctor. She will.”

“But what if she doesn’t? It would be my fault. I’m the one who made her go off by herself. We were supposed to be a team and I couldn’t see past-” He cut himself off, shaking his head.

“Hey,” Morgan put his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “it’ll be okay, Reid. I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Want one?”

“Sure.” After Morgan left, Spencer looked at you and sighed. Your body was wrapped in casts and bandages. “Hey, (L/N),” he said, reaching out and resting his hand on top of yours.

~

One thing you didn’t expect about being in a medically induced coma was to still hear everything going on around you. You could hear the doctors and nurses moving about your room. You could hear your teammates. You heard Hotch and Rossi talking about the paperwork they’d have to file on the case because an agent had been seriously injured. You heard the music Penelope insisted on playing, and you heard Spencer. 

“Hey, (L/N),” you heard him say. “I don’t know if you can hear me but,” he took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. Not just for this. I mean, obviously for this. I never should have split us up, I never should have sent you around the back of the house, I never should have-” he stopped himself. You could hear the tightness in his voice. Was he crying? No, Reid wouldn’t be crying over you. Would he? But he continued. “I was awful to you. I mean, I was an asshole,” he said with a dry laugh. “There’s no other word for it. I was an asshole to you and there was no excuse. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I-”

~

“One cup of sugar with a splash of coffee,” Derek said, coming back into the room. 

“Thanks.” Reid took the cup in both his hands, grateful for a distraction from his guilt. 

“Any change?”

He shook his head. “None.”

Derek sighed. “You know, part of me was really hoping she’d wake up in the five minutes I was gone.” He gripped your hand that wasn’t casted up. “We miss you, Pretty Girl.”

~

Your coma lasted for about 3 weeks. The doctors kept you in the hospital for observation for another full week before finally letting you go home.

During your recovery, your apartment was practically a revolving door. Just about the entire team came by to check on you and keep you company, with the exception of Spencer. You couldn’t say you were too surprised. However, something about it upset you. Hell, even Hotch and Rossi took the time to stop by and check on you. 

Derek and Penelope were probably your most frequent visitors. You were honestly grateful for their visits, and for the help it brought. With your injuries, simple day-to-day tasks were more difficult for you, and Penelope and Derek were more than happy to help you out. Derek took your grocery list and all your other errands while Penelope helped around your apartment. You were even more grateful when they forced you to attend a dinner party at Rossi’s. Penelope was at your apartment, helping you pick out a dress for the event.

“I don’t know, Pen.”

“(Y/N), I’m telling you, purple is your color.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want my dress to match my bruises.”

Penelope just rolled her eyes and tossed the dress on your bed. “Do you really think I’d pick out a dress that didn’t make you look good? Let’s go, you haven’t had a proper shower in a week.”

Penelope helped you get ready for the dinner party before getting ready herself. She helped adjust the strap of your brace when your doorbell buzzed. 

“That’ll be Derek,” you said. Penelope answered the door to Derek standing outside, leaning against your doorframe. 

“Well, look at these pretty ladies. You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I need to get out of this house,” you said. “I haven’t seen anything but these walls in weeks.”

When you pulled into Rossi’s driveway, you were more than excited to see the team. The team, in turn, was excited to see you. You were smiling and laughing, more and more of your normal self. 

When Spencer saw you walk through Rossi’s front door on your crutches, a lump formed in his throat. Ever since seeing you in the hospital, he’d been wracked with guilt. It was the main reason why he hadn’t visited you like everyone else. He tried to avoid you the whole night. Thankfully, you were so happy to be with the others that you didn’t seem to notice. But Blake did. 

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” she asked Spencer, handing him a drink. 

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re avoiding everyone tonight. Why?” When Spencer stayed silent, Blake followed his line of sight. He was watching you talking with JJ. “Ah. Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“I can’t, Alex. Believe me, I’ve tried. For months. Any time I try and have just a normal goddamn conversation with her, what comes out is sarcastic and cruel. I-I don’t know why it happens.” He ran his hands over his face and groaned. 

“You’re in love with her.” Blake wasn’t saying it as a question. Seeing the panic in his eyes, she said, “Don’t worry, it’ll stay with me.”

~

The heavy sheets of rain outside pounded against the apartment windows. It was the kind of cold rain that seeped into your bones, despite a warm home. It was late, but Spencer was still awake, reading. He couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t unusual for him. He heard a knock on his door. Spencer set his book down on his coffee table before walking to his door. He glanced out the peephole and took a step back in shock. Spencer opened the door to see you standing there, soaked and visibly shivering, in only your pajamas. Your eyes were bloodshot and you were sniffling. 

“(L/N)? What are you-”

“I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want me here and I don’t even know how I ended up here, I just started walking and-”

“Wait, wait, you walked here? In the torrential downpour?” When you nodded, Spencer opened his door wider. “Here, come in. You must be freezing. What happened?”

You stepped through his door and began to ramble, “I don’t know. I woke up from a nightmare and I knew I-I couldn’t stay in my apartment alone so I just started walking and somehow I ended up here and I’m sorry.” Your teeth were chattering as you continued to shiver. 

Spencer grabbed a blanket off the back of his couch and draped it around you. “No, no, it’s, um-” Spencer cleared his throat. “Do you want to talk about it? I’ve found that sometimes just saying it out loud helps.”

Once you nodded, Spencer held his hand out and led you over to his couch. You were silent for a few moments, staring out the window at the rain streaming down. 

“I was back… there,” you said when you finally started talking. “In the dark. I-I couldn’t see anything but I knew he was there. Then I felt his hands on my throat and-” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. Your whole body was shivering, but Spencer didn’t think it was from the cold anymore. 

Spencer moved to put his arm around you but stopped, dropping his arm back to his side. “I know how you feel,” he said. “After Hankle, I couldn’t handle looking at the crime scene photos because I knew what the victims were thinking right… you know… right before.”

“Do they ever stop? The nightmares?”

“I don’t know. Mine haven’t.” When he saw the defeat on your face, he added, “But it does get easier.”

You nodded, still staring out at the pouring rain. You cleared your throat. “Well, uh, I’ll, um, I’ll call a taxi and get out of your hair.”

“You don’t- uh, you can stay, um, if-if you want,” Spencer said. 

“Reid, I don’t want to impose-”

“You wouldn’t be!” Spencer assured you. “I could use the company, actually. I’ve been trying to find someone to watch Stardust with me. Penelope says I need to watch more pop culture and I know you’re a fan of Neil Gaiman.” He gave you a soft smile. “Please, (Y/N), stay. I promise, you’re not imposing.”

When he saw your face crack into a small smile, he felt a swarm of butterflies rise in his stomach. “Okay,” you said. 

About halfway through the movie, Spencer felt you slump against his shoulder. Before he knew it, you were fast asleep. He was frozen there, not wanting to disturb you. He knew how rough the past few months had been, and it was obvious to everyone you weren’t sleeping. Maybe it was the guilt, maybe it was more, but Spencer felt like it was now his responsibility to take care of you, if you would let him.

~

The whole team noticed the shift between you and Reid. Where you would previously stay as far from each other as possible, you were now actively seeking each other out. You chose to sit next to each other in the briefing room and on the jet, something you had never done before. On the trips back from cases, you would rest your head on Reid’s shoulder and sleep while he read a book. But, no one said anything about any of it. No one wanted to burst whatever weird bubble was surrounding the BAU team. 

That was, until Blake, Derek, and JJ spotted you knocking on Spencer’s motel door one night during a case. The two were sitting up in the lounge going over the case files yet again when they spotted you, in your pajamas, sneaking out of your own room. 

After watching you slip into Spencer’s room, JJ said, “You don’t think they’re…”

“Reid and (L/N)? No, there’s no way. They can’t stand each other.”

“Well, they do say there’s a thin line between love and hate,” Alex noted, turning the page in her book. 

“I don’t know about you two, but I need to know what’s going on,” Derek said, getting up from the couch. 

“I’m coming with you!”

“Guys, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex warned. “Just talk to them about it in the morning.”

“Do you know something, Alex?” JJ asked. 

“Even if I did know something, it wouldn’t be my place to tell you.”

~

The next morning, you felt eyes on you as you drank your coffee. You looked up from the case file to see Derek staring at you. 

“What?”

“Were you going to tell me about you and Reid or…”

“What are you talking about? Me and Reid?”

“(Y/N), come on. You two are practically attached at the hip when just two weeks ago you couldn’t fucking stand each other.”

You shrugged. “We worked out our differences, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Alright, what about you sneaking off to his room last night?”

Your face paled. “It’s not what it looked like.”

“Care to explain then?”

You sighed, looking around to make sure it was just you and Morgan. “You know I haven’t been sleeping since, well, everything.” Derek nodded. “Well, a few nights ago I ended up at Reid’s apartment in a panic. It was pouring out so he let me just stay and I slept better than I had in years. And, you know, he’s not too bad to hang out with either,” your face flushed with your last statement. 

“You’re not too bad to hang out with either.”

You jumped, turning around to see Spencer in the doorway with cups of (good) coffee in his arms.

“Spencer, when did-”

He handed you a frappuccino. “Just now. I take it you weren’t as sneaky as you thought?”

“Shut up,” you whined, nudging him with your arm as you stuck a straw in your drink. Spencer just laughed and took a seat next to you.

“So, you’re just, like, friends now?”

You and Spencer looked at each other, seemingly having a conversation without speaking.

“I mean, I’d say we’re a bit more than just friends,” you admitted, smiling at Spencer. He kissed the top of your head. 

“Damn, I owe JJ 10 bucks,” Derek muttered before saying, “But seriously, I’m happy for you two. It’s about time you realized you were perfect for each other.”

[matchavellichor]

AAAANNNNND another one:

Omi begs MC to let him help her whenever she goes out to slay poachers, ect. She never wanted him to get hurt, so she has always said no. After Omi starts giving her the could shoulder over it, she can't take it anymore, and she allows him to come along.

They bit off more than they could chew, however, and the last living poacher casts Imperio on MC and commands her to kill Ominis. (Poacher's injuries are too great to do anything else. Also just wants to make her suffer by forcing her to slay her friend)

She tries to summon the will to fight it, but it's not working, despite Ominis yelling at her, trying to snap her out of it. She disarms Omi and starts walking towards him. Nothing works until he pulls her into a kiss. It jars her enough that she breaks free from it and kills the poacher C:

bada-bing bada-boom. Happy ending <3

A/N: Finally getting through more asks, sorry for the delay 🥴 This was such a cute idea, ty for the request!! 💕

Kisses Against the Dark Arts

f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - Fluff - 2k words

Tags: Minor Descriptions of Violence, Use of Imperius, Crime Fighting Besties, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Banter

Summary: After dismantling a poacher camp goes astray, Ominis resorts to more unconventional means to free his friend from a dark curse.

“Are we almost there?”

“That’s the eighth time in the last half hour,” she huffs. “Ask me one more time and I’ll leave you to the Dugbogs.”

“Oh, excuse me for being concerned,” Ominis raises his hands defensively. “We’re already breaking curfew, we really shouldn’t stay out too long.”

She turns to blink at him. “You’re tagging along to destroy poacher camps with me and your concern is that we’re…breaking curfew.”

“Well, yes, it’s a perfectly valid concern,” he scoffs, as if it’s obvious. “Besides, I have a reputation to keep if I want to be made prefect next year.”

She shakes her head, incredulous. “I hate to burst your bubble, Ominis, but I think your reputation’s been sullied enough just by spending time with Sebastian.”

“Actually, I think it’s the contrary,” he retorts, looking smug. “I’m hoping that if Headmaster Black sees that I can successfully rally in the likes of Sebastian, he’ll consider me apt for the position.”

She considers this reasoning for a moment, before turning him with furrowed brows. “Didn’t he unleash a horde of inferi near the outskirts of Hogsmeade just last week? Is that what you call rallying in?”

Ominis looks unfazed, shrugging. “You win some, you lose some. I pick my battles.”

“Well, uh—now would be a good time to pick your battle,” she murmurs as she suddenly gets into a defensive position, wand arm outstretched in front of her. “We’ve got company, twelve o’ clock.”

“Why do you say these things as if I’ll know what you mean—” Ominis interrupts himself with a shriek as a spell just barely misses his head. 

She swiftly casts a few counterattacks while she ducks behind splintered logs and trees, shouting, “Up ahead, Ominis—I mean up ahead! Was the hurtling bombarda enough to solidify your sense of direction?”

Ominis narrowly avoids another incoming hex, a diffindo this time, rolling for cover into some underbrush. “Yes, thank you dearly for your help—you wouldn’t believe the wonders that near-decapitation will do for your spatial awareness!”

She sends a pillar of wooden crates careening through the air towards a trio of poachers, successfully burying them under layers of debris.

Ominis winces from behind her at the very audible sound of bones breaking. “Must you be so violent?”

An archer catches them off-guard from a surrounding tower and Ominis promptly sends a confringo in his direction, toppling the wizard from his perch in a fireball of flames.

“I hate to be that person, but I think that was arguably a bit more violent,” she murmurs, looking increasingly amused.

“Oh, quiet,” he scolds. “Minor lapse in judgment in the heat of the moment.” 

“Did Ominis Gaunt just make a pun?” she shouts over a chain of stupefies and expelliarmus, amusement and incredulity seeping through her tone.

He rolls his eyes. “It was not a pun, that would be terribly inappropriate.”

Even with a fair amount of banter to slow them down, working together they manage to eviscerate every last poacher with ease, and in record time. They free all of the captured animals with a few alohomoras, and she watches with satisfaction as they prance gratefully back into the forest.

Wiping off the soot on her cheeks from an awry confringo, she walks over to check up on Ominis leaning against a large oak tree, trying to catch his breath, doubled over with his hands on his knees. 

“That was…”

“Surprisingly smooth, right?” she beams. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. I thought I’d be casting a few limb reattachment spells by now, but you actually held your own.”

Ominis looks visibly unamused. “Well, you’re going to be casting a scourgify pretty soon…Gods, I’m going to be sick. Is it normal to smell so heavily of charred flesh?”

“All in a day’s work, my friend,” she pats his back a bit too harshly and he dry heaves over the grass. “Though, to be fair, I wasn’t the one going crazy on the fire spells.”

“They’re effective!”

“Effective at making human barbecue, sure,” she snorts.

He groans. “Dear Salazar, let’s just get out of here before I lose my dinner.”

She finally concedes, picking up her rucksack and slinging it over her shoulder when a jet of white light hits her from behind, nearly toppling her over from the full force of the spell that hits her square in the back.

All Ominis can hear is the Imperius incantation sounding in his ears from behind them, and a satisfied snicker from a lone surviving poacher, more than pleased that he hit his mark.

Ominis scrambles for his wand tucked away in his pocket, but the panic coursing through his veins at his friend being struck makes his reflexes unsteady. An expelliarmus knocks his wand out his hand before he can even properly point it towards the aggressor.

“Oh, this should be fun,” a grating voice shouts, and Ominis’ head darts towards the direction of the dark wizard. “Teach you meddling little shits not to poke your snout ‘round where it don’t belong.” 

The wizard directs his attention to where she’s still standing frozen in place, staring blankly ahead, her pupils a hazy white. A cruel sneer stretches across his mouth and he nods his head towards Ominis. “Kill him.” 

She charges for Ominis immediately, forcing the blonde to stumble back, toppling over a tree stump. She looms over him, wand arm outstretched and emotionless eyes staring down at him, before the wizard tsks disapprovingly from behind.

“Stop, stop. Use your hands,” he sighs, almost bored. “I think killing your friend warrants a bit more intimacy, no?” The evil cackle that rises from his throat is enough to make dread shiver down Ominis’ spine. 

Obediently, she discards her wind beside her, landing somewhere out of reach on the grassy field. She lunges for him, pinning him down with her body on his, fingers scrambling to wrap around his throat.

She’s smaller than him, but hours of training in the Undercroft has grown her strength significantly. Ominis finds it a genuine struggle to hold her hands away, her nails digging long, red lines down his arms as she thrashed.

“F-finite incantatem! Finite—oh, dear Merlin,” he attempts to no avail, voice frantic, her name tumbling from his lips in a litany of pleas to get her to snap out of the trance. “It’s me, it’s me, you can break the spell, just concentrate!”

“Uh oh, I don’t think she can hear you.” The poacher sits on a fallen tree trunk watching the entire ordeal, arms crossed lazily over his chest, a sadistic grin pulled at his lips.

Ominis ignores the taunting, using more force against her, collecting both of her hands in one of his while she still claws and writhes above him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Genuine remorse bleeds through Ominis’ voice as he scrambles to push her off him, flipping them over and pinning her wrists to the ground underneath him. “Please.”

The poacher frowns at the sudden change in position, unpleased. “Use the dagger holstered on your hip,” he directs with his wand outstretched to ensure the full-force of the command. “‘Bout time things got more interesting.” 

She unsheathes the dagger in one swift movement, blade pressed against the pale expanse of Ominis’ throat, teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

It’s momentary, fleeting, but just then something flashes in her eyes. A brief flicker in the trance, the slightest stutter in her hand, color seeping through the milky haze of her irises. It’s gone as quickly as it comes, but proves useful anyways. 

Ominis capitalizes on this hesitation to wrap his hand around her wrist and keep her from applying too much pressure. A bead of blood runs down the long length of goblin-wrought steel, Ominis’ throat bobbing against the cold press as he swallows nervously. He winces when she tries to dig the dagger in more, cutting into unmarked skin.

“It’s me, hey, hey, just listen,” he tries to keep his voice steady, calming, but it wavers, his nerves an utter mess. “Your magic’s stronger than his. You can break it. Focus on my voice.”

“Oh, sure, that’ll work.” The poacher snorts, clearly entertained. “Maybe you should kiss her, lover boy, she might just be repulsed enough to snap out of it!” He doubles over laughing and Ominis grits his teeth in frustration. 

The suggestion doesn’t fall on deaf ears, however. 

Maybe he can blame the decision later on sheer desperation, a last ditch-effort to save his skin, pure adrenaline in the moment. Although, he would be lying if he said that was the sole motivation. He surges forward on instinct, lips crashing into hers, maintaining one hand in a vice-like grip around her wrist and the other cupping her cheek so she can’t squirm away from his mouth.

She freezes, eyes blowing wide, lips unmoving against his. The poacher is just as petrified beside them, in shock that Ominis had the gall to actually do it.

Just when he thinks his attempt was unsuccessful, the hand she has wrapped around the dagger goes slack, losing all pressure against his skin. She lets it fall to the grass beside them, blade discarded, before she’s bringing it back up to cup his cheek and pull him in for more.

Ominis feels his entire world tilt, his face heating, his brain too dizzy to procure a single coherent thought. It really is a terrible circumstance to have a world-shattering kiss. 

Thankfully, she’s somehow able to maintain better mental faculties. She outstretches a hand, fingers splayed open, casting a wordless accio for her wand dropped a few meters away from them.

The poacher is staring at them, mouth gaped like a fish, which is exactly how he remains when she sends a petrificus hurtling in his direction, another exhibition of impeccable wordless magic—because she absolutely refuses to remove her lips from his. 

He can feel her smug smirk when it hits the wizard square in the chest, toppling him over like a bag of bricks. He would’ve called her a show-off, if he had even the remotest capacity for words at the moment.

When she finally pulls away, his chest is heaving, a red flush creeping over his skin from under his oxford, over his neck and cheeks. She’s breathless when she finally finds her words, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “That’s…certainly one way to break an Imperius.” 

He lets out an awkward laugh before sheepishly helping her up off the ground, dusting remnants of leaves and dirt off her clothes. He clears his throat, trying to feign an air of indifferent composure. “Are you alright?”

She glances at him sidelong, amused by just how affected he looks. “Not sure,” she smirks. “Might want to kiss me again, just to get rid of any traces of the curse. After all, you can never be too caref—mmph!”

While her intentions were just to tease, she can’t deny the thrill that courses through her when he actually wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. Her gasp dies on his lips as he presses his mouth to hers, her fingers curling into his shirt for support when her knees seem on the brink of buckling.

He kisses her hungrily, passionately, as if he wants there to remain no blurred lines between his intentions in kissing her, if the last one has left any room for doubt. This time, she feels her world tilt on its axis, her only grounding point being the protective confines of Ominis’ arms, his solid body pressed against hers.

She realizes she could spend hours like this, and she wonders why for two fearless, poacher-fighting mercenaries, neither of them had mustered the courage to do so sooner. 

“Better?” he finally pulls away, the ghost of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, coated in smug satisfaction to rival even her own.

“I don’t know,” she grins, bringing her arms up to lock behind his neck. “Maybe we should be really, really sure.” 

[princessfroslass]

Angel Dust has a clear validation problem.

I had been thinking about this ever since episode 2 and episode 6 all but segmented this onto my subconscious.

Angel clearly doesn't care whenever anyone slut shames or just overall insult him- he lives to get a rise out of people. Hell, Hazbin Hotel's VERY FIRST SCENE on the Pilot was him going full "oh yeah slut, very creative." And going after Travis life- but not on a insecure way, he very clearly didn't care. Fast forward to the actual show and it's more of the same- he doesn't care whenever Vaggie or Husk or anyone else threaten him because he enjoys the chaos and it's open about the fact he is only there to no pay rent. He just doesn't care about what others think of him.

Except.... When he does.

You see it's interesting because back on that origin comic (that I don't even know if it's canon anymore but for a characterization point I'll take it.) when Charlie states they need a quest and even pays him for his time (Angel was working on the street when they meet him) and she goes full "this is an investment, on you." He leaves the limo all "oh...ok....sure...." Clearly moved or touched by her faith in him, even though he still thinks it's misguided trust.

Back to episode 2, it's pretty much the anthesis of this. For once, someone else seems interested on changing his ways and THAT obviously excites Charlie, who referred to Sir Pen as "the hotel's first real quest" now to be fair with her, Angel is very vocal about how he thinks the Hotel is BS and hadn't show any intention to change his ways soon- but y'know that still must stings like it hasn't even been a week and this girl that is all sunshine and rainbows already gave up on him lmao but it gets even worse- on the roleplay thing, look at the fucking role he is giving- A CRACKHEAD- like he had to pause before saying that shit- and to rub salt on the wound, Sor Pen performance ends with the "no sex before marriage!" Line. Like out of all sins one could commit- you pick Addiction to Drugs (more specifically CRACK) and Sex. Yo girl what the fuck- and ofc, only Sir Pen gets congratulated, because Angel was critical of the whole thing and the former was full on enthusiastic about it- the last shot before the bedroom scene we get us Angel staring at Charlie validating Sir Pen's efforts and how he is going to be redeemed so fast before Angel sadly goes upstairs.

Now the room scene..... Yikes. The fact that the roleplay was all and on about the drugs thing and how the last voicemail/Angel's imagination? Things we heard it's "Addict trash like you doesn't change"... Hahaha all the yikes with that fucking roleplay. So yeah it's very fucking clear from the get go Angel has....issues. Hell even after "It starts with Sorry" when everyone goes back to sleep he doesn't looks happy, just resigned lmao

(Which it's funny because on the very next episode he saves Sir Pen from the war thing going down but I digress)

Now episode 4- oh MAN where do I even start. Now remember how in the first paragraph I mentioned how Angel disses Travis but like, in a confident way? Not on the way someone affected would react? Well this ep is everything but that lmao "I don't give a shit about what a drunk ass bartender thinks of me" reeks of insecurity by the tone alone I am sorry. Notice how he looks very taken aback when Husk calls his act out before he doubles down and goes full "I am actor dumbass" bit. Man's defenses were penetrated in a way it hasn't before and he needed a moment to put more bs out of his ass because God forbid someone in this Hotel knows how horrible his life is and how much he hates himself- and then his advances were thoroughly rejected for good ("It's never gonna work on me") and he absolutely losses it. Not being able to compute that someone that clearly stared at him long enough to read him, doesn't want to fuck him. Disgusts from people that barely knows him he can take- being told to his face it's not working, he can't. And it's not even because he particularly want to fuck anyone there- that is how he sees his own worth. He makes Val money, everyone around wants to take him, his services are apparently FAR from cheap ("you know how much I am WORTH?!") and he had based his whole self worth around it- no matter how many times he gets taken advantage of on a random club on 3am or if is his own fucking abuser (he literally only opened Val's voicemails after the whole ep2 fiasco) people either despises him because of his overt sexuality or want to use him for it (there is also the middle road where his worse habits are enabled and that makes him 'fun' company- but I'll be there in a min) there just can't be a reality where he is told to his face that he is destroying himself and any connection he can have WITHOUT the alterior motive of wanting to fuck him- right? I mean even Charlie's hope on him was proven to be limited, so why bother?

Enter Loser, Baby.

And yes, my beloved Huskerdust atem- you see there is something fucked up about it. Angel only joins in to sing as well after he goes full "I am a hoe that likes drugs tehee" but unlike always, he is...not proud of it. He only sings about it because Husk sang how "it's ok to be a-" like expecting a negative, and it's ONLY when Husk completes it with a "Baby that is fine by me" does Angel truly smiles. He just had a whole breakdown, he doesn't has the energy to put his facade and his "I don't care what you think" actitude. But because Husk validates that he is able to follow along.

There is also the "This guy it's not that bad" part. Angel softened up at that because, again, Husk validated him- the real him. He saw through his facade and embraced it.

In episode 5 there is this little scene where Charlie is talking to her father over the phone and everyone else is silently supporting her from behind. And Angel, the ever realist- is just....grimacing through the whole thing lmao but to his credit seemed to support her regardless- but what cought my eye through the whole thing is that when Charlie goes full "Dad, this is important to me!" The camera focus on Angel a bit....touched? See the scene you'll get what I mean.

Then episode 6 came along. Cherrie comes along, and her and Husk play devil and angel on Anthony's shoulder the whole night. But there is something interesting about this- Angel never.... really stops Cherrie, nor explain why he would avoid drugs- Husk does. He ONLY explains himself when Cherrie confronted him about being so protective of Nifty. When Cherrie offer him the pills he doesn't goes full "I am sober now" cut and dry, instead he goes full "er....I dunno, I am tired. Maybe another time?" after Husk does the whole "I thought you were better than that" bit. Cherrie enables Angel- she clearly CARES about him, there is not doubt about that- but Hell is made with good intentions, validating his excesses and taking an active part on it is how they bond- and how his relationship with her makes him feel a bit better about himself, even when at the end of day it all comes crashing down (hello end of Addicted) and what is the first THING he smiles at after his confrontation with Valentino? "You did good, kid".

Ao in synthesis, Angel craves for validation in all and any way he can get it- regardless of how good the intentions of those giving it are. It either can be an validitation of his usual behavior (Cherrie) an validation of him wanting to better himself (Charlie, Husk) or just.... validation of his body as a whole (those weird sharks he ran to at ep4) it really depends of how much his mental state is on the gutter that day.

And then there is Valentino.

It's clear Angel's self Worth issues are not much better thanks to the way he is treated in and out of the studio- but, and knowing his familial relationship, it's doubtful they CAME from there, and it was an unfortunate result of it.

Valentino and the Vees pray on the vulnerable- that was DIRECTLY stated at ep2, and what is more vulnerable that a drug addict whose own family rejected? Sure Angel had been on Hell for a WHILE but his foundation was already shaky to begin with, he is street smart and posseses more common sense that some of his peers (literally the only one that stated they SHOULDN'T bring every psycho that tries to kill them to the Hotel lmao) but this need for Validation running deep on his core makes him the ideal pray for any asshole that is willing to drop a few "oh you are so pretty 💜"s his way until it's too late. How tragic would it be- to have the first person that validated him in a WHILE be the one that hurt him the most.

[sepublic]

So there's gonna be chaos after Belos' death, and people are going to need structure, they're going to look to for guidance. So I can see people temporarily resuming the coven system form of government for the sake of simplicity, until they can all repair and then figure stuff out. So given what we've seen of Terra, Adrian, and Vitimir, what if they tried to run for election as the new Emperor of the Boiling Isles; Everyone was betrayed and targeted by Belos, so it's easy and not really untrue to hide under the defense that they also didn't know better and meant well.

I'm just imagining it now; The Coven Heads agreeing to an election to prevent a messy war, competing over the role of new, interim Emperor, and vying for control in a mostly-legitimate way. Adrian obsesses over getting his campaign videos and presentations right, but his notoriety as a bad and incompetent boss quickly spreads and he becomes like that Jeb Bush meme. Hettie Cutburn utilizes her E-girl status and understanding of social media to cultivate a decent following.

Given Abomatons were present during the failed sabotage, I like to think they have the ability to record footage, and Alador released the footage of the CATTs trying to prevent the draining spell to give them validity. Mason would've been a popular candidate, being seen as a witch of the people, but he's not sure if he can trust his own judgment after misplacing his trust in Belos; So instead he throws his support behind the CATTs. There’s accusations of staged footage but some people were able to notice the commotion from below, and Mason’s support adds trust, but of course others like Terra and Vitimir will attempt to discredit.

Osran is forced to drop out early from the election because everyone places particular responsibility and thus blame on him for failing to predict Belos' treachery. Kikimora would've attempted to run for election given her previous role as Belos' right hand, and bring up the fact that she saved everyone by introducing King to the Collector; However, the kids at Hexside made sure to keep her in the dungeons to prevent this. And thank goodness for that, as she considered spinning the narrative that the draining spell was only because of the CATTs’ sabotage, and that Belos is being slandered (so as his confidant Kikimora can preserve his image to hitchhike on it).

In the end, at least one of the CATTs is elected (maybe Darius since Eber is fairly nonverbal and Raine has stage fright), and there's a bit of awkwardness in that a lot of citizens don't consider the idea of a dictator to be inherently flawed, and are assured that this new one is an actual good guy so there's nothing to worry about; So then you have the CATTs using their power to pass legislation that lessens it, and results in the council system that the writers confirmed as canon.

Technically, nothing's saying Raine, Darius, and Eberwolf are the ONLY members of our confirmed council (signified by their Titan badges); For all we know, Hettie, Mason, and Osran are included given they're not depicted among the coven heads who clung to the old structure for power. Just because they didn't show up in the epilogue doesn't necessarily mean they aren't up to anything; It's just that Doylistically speaking, the epilogue is meant to check up one final time on characters the audience was actually introduced to and thus familiar with!

[cherry-pop-elf]

Pretty Rain Cloud

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Can he read as Platonic As Well, because Platonic love is valid AF!

You were in a horribly sour mood. You swore you would never smile again, and never be happy. No way. Of course, you make this vow to the likes of Fred and George. What were you thinking?

Warnings: Umbridge. She’s a warning in general/Set during Order Of The Phoniex: Slight blood, tending to wounds, intense stress, I mean it’s about Umbridge. You know what’s up

Writing Commissions Open

“Never ever ever again-!” You sniffled, as Fred was currently being your support. Letting you lean his head on his shoulder, as you two sat in The Room Of Requirement’s. Everyone busy with their Defense Practices, while George was busy cleaning the newly made scar on your hand. How it ached, and still burned. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but that toad knew how to make it hurt.

“Oh don’t go saying something like that-“ George would pipe up, as he wade sure your wound was clean. Having had plenty from Umbridge, let alone from the crazy life he lived in general. “We love your smile-“ Fred was quick to echo, as you would squeeze his hand. Since the pain of the fresh scar was so sharp.

“But you heard her. She said I was ‘Smiling To Much, And Distracting The Class’ and all that-!” You hiccuped, as George was finished with wrapping your hand. Being extra cheesy with kissing it. In the hopes you could smile again. To think, she would find a way to punish anyone wand everyone. You were wondering if she was just doing this to hurt Fred and George. Yet, it seemed like no one would escape her wrath. Not even Draco.

“Oh she hates that you actually have a pretty smile, and she doesn’t.” Fred tried to reason, as he rubbed your shoulder. Letting his older brother instincts take over. Doing whatever he could to help you. All the same with George, who remained at your feet. Holding that wounded hand, and feeling the pain throbbing into his own. How the white fabric was already growing a red tint.

“When that’s all healed up, gonna slather it in our latest invention. It’s a bruise removal puddy we got working on-“ George tried to cheer you up with, as Fred would pull out the tin. Inside was a shiny goop. Was rather similar to a glittery dark grey puddy. It did have you curious, but you refused to smile. As if those twins would quit that easy.

“How about this new candy we just made-“ George offered, as he pulled out another tin. Rattling it around. You were not budging. They loved a challenge anyway. They were older siblings, to Ron and Ginny. Harry as well, if anyone got technical with it. That boy was horribly traumatized, yet they could still get him to grin ear to ear. They won’t give up on you just like that. No sir.

“What about….” Fred hummed, as he looked around. They were inventors. Men that thought outside the box. They could figure this out. Those for eyes would scan the room, and watch as everyone would practice. Mastering the spells that she refused to teach. Seeing the dummy’s go flying had sparked an idea. The duo looked to each other, and just grinned.

“Up ya go-!” They said, before suddenly having their arms under each one of yours. Lifting you up, and making your legs kick and dangle. You were basically being kidnapped now. Those darn twins, and being stupidly tall. Along with strong. Even though Umbridge basically banned Quidditch, that didn’t stop the twins from practicing their beater skills.

“Where are we going-?” You asked, just accepting your fate. Better that way. You’ve seen what happened when people tried to escape. You knew you weren’t in actual danger. If you asked them to put you down, they would. They were pranksters, not monsters. Like how they made sure not to do pranks that involved books around Ginny, ever since the Snake Incident. Moral code, that just likes to bend a little bit.

“And here-!” Plopped down you went, with a brow raised. Just in front of one of the many test dummies the room held. Where was this going? Seemed everyone was now looking, fascinated at what the twins were planning. Ron was already grabbing your arm, and pulling you a solid five steps back. Ginny having mimicked the same action with Luna. Given she was spaced out a bit.

“Just five seconds-“ “-We know what we are doing-!” They spoke, which made everyone back up an extra large step. A mixture of curiosity, yet total anxiety at the same time. Just left to wondering what the ever living hell those two were doing, with the dummies right now. Casting quick spells, and working fast. In a blink, it was made clear.

“TA DA-!” They sung, as their ingenuity was unmatched. With some color changing spells, and some quick shifting of fabric, the dummies were turned into mock up dolls of the pink toad herself. “Not as ugly as her, but it gets the job done-!” They echoed, as they knocked on the dummies head. Having poorly done lipstick on. Given they had a little sister, and were basically the dorms collective older sibling, it was on purpose.

“HAVE AT IT-!” They chanted, before quickly ducking away. As if everyone was on edge to fire. They were, but you were able to have the first swing. A proud Flipendo Maxima was called by you, and that pink dummy went flying. Right into the wall, with a loud crumple, before being a crumpled up mess on the ground. You were just giggling in glee, as you did something you wish you could have to the real one.

“To easy-“ The twins snickered to each other, with such pride. Elbows to each other, before they were returning to your side. Watching as the other students would take advantage of this as well. All needing some serious stress relief from that hag. Everyone was able to gain some smiles, and you were included.

You could hardly recall you even dared made a promise like that around them. To never smile again. Maybe, deep inside, you knew what you were doing. That deep down you did deserve to smile. To spite that woman. No matter what your head said, you knew this. Never challenge a Weasley. Let alone the twins. They’ll make you smile, one way or another.

@george-weasleys-girl

[the-l00ker]

I need to know. I do.

So people... Genuinely believe... The AI generated looking account of being Shelby's cousin is real?

For context someone who said they were Shelby's cousin blames shelby for the abuse, said she mad them cry and that she did it to herself. And that she was yelling at Wilbur and to support Wilbur.

Shelby commented on it saying that she only had one cousins and it clearly wasn't them.

Now people are questioning why "she got so defensive" to a fan account.

Context over.

All I have to say is... BITCH ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND?-

Your going to tell me, WITH CONFIDENCE Shelby, her friends and her family don't know who own cousin is?

Your going to tell me that everything Shelby's said doesn't line up? "he had hole in his walls" Fundy did a vlog with Wilbur that showed IN THE VIDEOS that Wilbur did indeed have holes in his walls. Fundy even said it looked gross.

"he was violent" over the last couple years. Not now. YEARS. Content creator and non-content creator have said be was a violent man.

Minx said he was violent but was written off as an alcoholic.

Bilzo was written off as a small content creator.

Niki was told she should THANK HIM because he made her.

Other were seen as clout-chasers.

And it took one, mentally stable and popular person to be like "Hey he's a bad guy" for people to go back and look huh.. Maybe he is bad.

There are people who already knew and were being validated. People who were annoyed because they said there piece and got shit for it and now had people back-tracking when it was too late.

Heck even Scott Smajor said Live on stream that he'd obliviously knew longer then anyone else and that's why Wilbur was no longer in MCC videos.

And suddenly your like, "she's getting a bit defensive isn't she?" Well yeah.

She's human.

That's like telling someone, "your family didn't actually get hurt", "they did. You know they did" then them being like "OMG THEY'RE SINGLING ME OUT THIS PROVES THEY'RE LYING!"

Do you know how stupid that sounds when you write it out. And then to assume that no one talked to anyone in private about anything?

Do you really think that Wilbur's friends AND random people would have co-ordinate an attack on him for like 3-5 years straight?

And this is straight the Emma situation. People are seeing that you can create a "successful" allegations using AI and have younger audiences BELIEVE IT.

You assume this allegation is true but don't assume that someone could be using AI to write that (because it was screenshot of text with a popular image of Wilbur in the background) because they like him?

Did you not assume that maybe... Just maybe, someone would (like Emma) make up some random BS for personal gain and then exploit it?

Did you not assume that with an Apology come with the acknowledgement that you did those things? Because Wilbur didn't deny it. He expressed he did do it actually, he just did a terrible job of justify it.

Did your assumption not lead you to the conclusion that text is easier to fake then a real person with real tears telling you?

Did you not assume that it's become a trend to fake things for clout?

Did you not look back and go "but there was tons of evidence BEFORE shelby said anything"?

Did you not go back and think, shelby's a person and she's allowed to be upset. She also knows her own family and probably know the social media account that her family uses, so it can't certainly be that person?

Or do you have your values so far up, that you cannot see AI when its right in front of you.

If you can't see one of these many things, then either you need to think about yourself and do some soul searching or your genuinely deluded.

There was even a comment say it looks like an AI generated response, and guess what? When I went back to take a ss of it for this post the user had suddenly been reported and suddenly couldn't use there account.

Weird right?

Also it you're a "oh I'm neutral on the matter. I don't support anyone" person. I hope you seek a conclusion because you clearly can't see the one in front of you.

And to the "But what if was really?" or "support Wilbur" squad. Refer to all previous points and if you still have this opinion, I kindly ask you to leave. Touch grass. Go back to school. And to hopefully better yourself as a person.

[haesunlover]

long to be home. (intro)

pairing: huang renjun x female!reader

series genre: fluff, angst, suggestive, eventual smut

word count: 2.1k words

chapter warnings: fluff, light angst, reader is an aspiring writer, renjun being the best bf ever, mark talking about his dick for a second, nothing else really.

the page on the computer screen remained blank, like your thoughts as you tried to remember any childhood memories. you threw your head back groaning, trying to rattle your brain for any sort of progress. giving up, you opened the facetime app on your computer and dialled the only person who can help in this scenario.

"hey sexy," your high school best friend says as she answered the phone. "to what do i owe the pleasure?"

just hearing her voice instantly made you burst into tears. "i'm trying to write but i am fucking clueless. i'm trying to put together my childhood but it's so blurry. i can see it but i can't at the same time. it's so stupid but i'm so fucked. my brain is absolutely fried." you blurt out, holding your head in your hands.

"woah, wait. is this about your show that you're writing? the one about your life?" lia asks, confused and concerned at this sudden outburst bringing the phone closer to her face.

you nodded your head, pushing your hair away from your face and now properly looking at the camera. "yes. i'm like.. stuck. i'm not getting anywhere cause i can't remember all the details." you huffed after taking a deep breath in, trying to calm yourself down. "i'm getting so frustrated."

lia nodded her head before pulling a naughty smirk at the camera. "you know what i think?" she asked.

"what?"

"i think you need to come home. you've been gone for too long and can't remember anything. you need a memory refresher. and a holiday to come see me." she said, looking pretty proud of her suggestion.

you let out a chuckle, shaking your head at her. "i'd love to but i can't just drop everything and come over."

confusion flashed over lia's face. "why not? don't you have like a whole month off? and doesn't renjun get a two week break soon?" she asked, making a very valid point.

you thought about it. a trip back home to australia with your boyfriend and getting to see your best friend after four years. sounds great in theory but.. "i mean, i'm not sure. i don't know if i'm mentally rea- '' you started to talk and tear up but was cut off by the sound of the keypad to the apartment being used. 

"shit, i gotta go. i'll keep you updated. talk to you soon!" you quickly exclaimed, shutting the lid of the laptop. you quickly wiped the tears away from under your eyes and smoothed out your hair as if you weren't about to rip it out moments before.

"y/n? you here, my love?" you hear your boyfriend, renjun, call out for you. you quickly jump out of the desk chair and walk out into the living area to see him and the rest of the dream members. 

"hey guys, i'm sorry for staying for so long. i lost track of time. i'll head out now so you guys can rest up after working hard today." you explained, jolting your fist in a little 'fighting' sign as you look around at them all.

mark shook his head and asked, "what are you talking about? it's movie night! it's my pick tonight. plus rina will be over soon."

your face dropped a bit, knowing that you weren't in the right headspace to be around the boys. you just wanted to go lie in your own bed and contemplate the previous conversation you had with lia.

renjun's eyebrows furrowed as he scanned your face, coming closer and grabbing your hand. "have you been crying?"

feeling called out, you mirrored his expression. "no? what makes you think that?" you ask defensively.

his face remained firm, giving you a look that showed he knew you were lying. "your nose is red. that is such a tell tale sign for you crying."

you muttered a quiet 'shit' under your breath and tugged his arm that was still attached to your hand towards the front door. "can we go on a walk please?" you say, the room falling completely silent out of nosiness and concern. renjun silently nodded and followed you out of the front door and into the elevator.

the elevator ride down was silent. it was silent until the two of you walked out of the lobby and down into the street. "should we go to the park?" renjun asked, squeezing your hand that he has not let go of since he first grabbed it. you nodded, slightly swinging your hands together. 

after walking quietly for about five minutes, the two of you reached the park and sat on a familiar park bench that you and the boys go to often.

renjun let go of your hand and grabbed a seat first, putting his arm over the back of the bench as if he was inviting you to cuddle into him. you flashed him a shy smile and sit next to him, throwing your legs over his lap and snuggling into him.

he has yet to say anything. he's learned over the year of being with you that you'll open up when you're ready and not to rush you. 

it took a few moments before you found the courage to speak up, "i want to go home."

"but we were just at home?"`

"no. 'australia' home."

"okay."

you stared at him, puzzled. "that's it? you're okay with that?"

he nods his head, grabbing your hand. "i'm okay with it. the real question is are you okay with it? are you ready to go back?"

and that's exactly why you're stuck. you had thought about going home a lot recently, even before lia brought it up. the last few years in australia were life changing to say the least. you knew you'd go back eventually and face the past but not this soon. but over the last few days, you've realized it's something you must do in order to move on.

"honestly, renjun? no, i am so scared. but it's something i need to do." you answered, shakily while leaning on his shoulder.

you felt him nodding his head with a small 'mhm..' vibrating through his body. "may.. may i ask what's brought this on all of a sudden?"

you turn your head up to look at him, faces close together. "i've been trying to write but it's almost like i have writers block. except with my childhood memories. i can't seem to remember a lot. it started a few days ago. i thought about going home once. but then i thought about it again and again. then i called lia.. and she suggested the same thing. i think it's time. it's kind of bittersweet, thinking about going home. part of me longs to go back home but the other part is scared shitless." you rambled.

renjun peered down at you, looking between your eyes. "alright baby. it's no problem. we'll go back to the dorms and figure out the logistics soon."

you nodded at the start of his suggestion but looked at him confused as he finished it. "soon? why soon?"

he smiled and leaned down, kissing you softly. he put his free hand on your chin, holding you as you kissed. renjun then pulled away, "i don't know about you but i hear the playground calling our names." he said with a childish smile plastered on his face.

"i am so in love with you." you mumble, staring at him lovingly. you quickly looked around the park, making sure there was nobody around before laughing and jumping off the bench to run towards the playground. "last one to the swings is a rotten egg!"

by the time you two got back to the apartment, the lights were off in the hallway. only the tv light could be seen shining from the living room. you guys walked into the room and saw that the group were already about halfway through the movie and mark's girlfriend, also one of your closest friends, had joined.

spotting a spare seat next to mark and rina on the three seater couch, you let go of renjun's waist that you were previously holding and head towards the couple quietly. rina lets out a small sound of surprise as you fit yourself into the couple's cuddles. "hi, my rainbow. where've you been?" she asked as she leaned over and gave a quick kiss to your cheek.

"yo, why did my dick twitch a little?" mark mumbled, watching the two of you. both rina and you rolled your eyes at him. renjun walked behind the couch, heading to the only free seat in the room on the beanbag but not without smacking mark across the head first.

you couldn't help but laugh at the stupidity of them, knowing mark meant no harm. "renjun and i were at the park, having a chat." you explained, nuzzling yourself into rina. your friend shifted in her seat, turning her full attention to you.

"shit, what about?" she asked, pulling the blanket away from mark and onto your legs instead.

"well, we wer-"

"oh my god, here we go again. can you guys talk in another room please? you do this every time you see each other. the two of you literally talk for hours." chenle groaned, throwing his head back before looking at the pair of you. there were mumbles of agreement, even from your boyfriends.

giggles fell from both yours and your friend's lips as the two of you push off the couch and into the kitchen to talk. rina pulls herself onto the kitchen bench and you mirror her action but onto the kitchen island. "alright, spill." rina says, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl next to her.

"i'm going back home to australia for a while." you say, scanning rina's face. 

she stopped peeling her banana and slowly nodded, thinking about what to say. "okay.. and am i invited?" she asked, taking a bite of the banana.

you looked at her confused at apparently her only thought. "you don't have anything else to say? any advice? am i being crazy?"

"well shit, if you're going back there then you'll need moral support. which will be me!" she exclaims cheerfully.

you thought for a second. you two had been talking about going on vacation for awhile and she is actually incredible support. it'll also give rina a chance to go back home too. "i mean, i don't see why not? renjun and i decided on going during his break. would mark be okay with that?" you asked. rina quickly shoved the rest of the banana in her mouth, letting out a muffled 'let me ask.'

she jumped off of the kitchen bench and walked back into the living room with you not too far behind her. "mark, wanna go to australia with us?" she asked quite loudly over the movie. the room erupted in noise, some of the boys talking amongst each other and others trying to talk to you two girls.

"shit, i didn't know i'd cause that much of a fuss." she awkwardly mumbled, returning to her seat next to mark.

chenle spoke up loudly over the noise, "why are you guys going to australia?" he asked looking between you and rina. you groaned, walking to the lightswitch and turning it on so you can actually see everybody properly. you grabbed the remote off the table and quickly paused the movie.

"me and renjun are going back to australia to go sort things out. some family things." which wasn't entirely a lie, "rina wants to come because we've been planning a holiday together long before renjun and i even started dating. she'll also be going home to australia so obviously she wouldn't go without mark." you continued to explain.

it was jeno that spoke up next, "well, can we come too?" he asked softly next to jaemin. the two of them both showing you a very similar innocent, boyish look. you look at renjun, silently asking for help. 

he pushed himself out of the beanbag and made his way over to where you were standing by the tv, "well, how about we go, just us, for the first few days and then the rest of them can join us later?" 

you nodded in approval, look at everyone else to see if they give the same approval. everyone was showing some way of saying yes. it was jisung who spoke up next, "where are we even going?"

"we're going back to my hometown on the gold coast." the room erupted in noise again, but this time in excited chatter. whilst everyone was talking, you turn to renjun with a half excited and half scared look on your face.

"i guess this is it. i'm going home."