#& he was just like. 'did you just SAMPLE that????'

[entitled-fangirl]

Sleepless night.

Battinson x wife!reader

Summary: Sometimes, the man who cares for the city needs someone to care for him. Just cute fluff☺️

Warnings: talk of Batman things- blood, crime, etc.

A/n: Did someone in my inbox inspire me to rewatch this beauty of a movie? And did I write this while doing so? Yes. Expect more of this Batty Daddy. Italics indicate a flashback.

Masterlist

............................................

"Bruce."

The tired man's head tilted up. He looked awful, eye black smeared down his face. 

You'd been around long enough to know that Bruce never took breaks. You had to practically beg him to take care of himself. He was too self-less. Too full of heart. Or maybe the opposite. Too focused on revenging everything taken from him. One thing was sure- Bruce Wayne would do anything to get what he wants.

He'd been down in his Cave for hours- spending the night out on patrol and the entire next day tweaking things in his BatCave. Now, the night falls again, but you're determined to get him to stay tonight.

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "What time is it?"

You can't help your smile. You're down here in your pajamas, trying to coerce him upstairs. It's obvious what time it is. And Bruce is hyperaware of everything. He knows everything. But he just wants to hear your voice.

You don't give in quite yet. You socked feet pad through the cave until you're at his side, looking over the screen he's been looking at for hours. There's no way his retinas don't have the sight burned in at this point. 

You want to touch him. To rub your hands over his shoulder and relive the tension that's been there for hours. To kiss him until he's forced to take you upstairs to satisfy you.

But Bruce isn't touchy. Especially not like this. So, you accept your place next to him. "What is all this?" You ask him.

"Code" is all he answers back.

You hum and run a hand over his desk. Dust collects on your fingertips. "Was gonna go to bed. When was the last time you ate, Bruce?"

His head tilts and you follow the direction. There's an half-eaten bowl of pasta from dinner that Alfred had brought down. 

There's silence for a while. It's obvious that part of him knows he needs sleep. 

"Come to bed," you try in the sweetest voice you can muster. 

He doesn't look at you, still staring straight ahead. You can feel the turmoil inside him. 

"Bruce," you whisper. "Come to bed with me."

He is after all, still a man. And a man can hardly resist when his wife begs for him to love her.

His head turns, taking you in from head to toe as you lean against the table.

Three years ago, you met Bruce. No. You met Batman. 

When you were young, your older, rebellious brother died at the hands of a Gotham criminal. His death was horrific and brutal. The media ate it up, and your life was changed.

You remembered the police officer that sat with you. His voice was kind. It almost made the sight of people in white forensic suits inspecting your brother's body bearable.

Years later, you were one of the one's in a white forensic suit. A medical examiner for Gotham.

That's when you met him.

A violent, bloody death had occurred. And Gordon let him in. 

You were bent at the knee, examining the stab wounds on a dead senator's neck. 

"Making any headway, Dr.?" Gordon asked. 

"Got a few ideas," you mutter, scribbling something down on your notepad. It's practically chicken scratch, but you know exactly what it says. "Gonna take a few samples before I meet up with t-" the words die off when you tried to turn to look at him, only to be met with the sight of dark combat boots. Your eyes trial up them slowly, taking in the man standing at your side until you reach his face. He's already looking at you. Batman.

That first night, Bruce looked over the footage in his contacts for hours, wanting to know everything about you that he could find. He was… suspicious of you. Yeah, sure. That's why. That's what he told himself.

He loved to just look at you. 

He had seen so much blood. So much death. You were as hurt as he was. But when he looked at you, he saw life.

"What time is it?" He asked again.

"You know exactly, Bruce Wayne," you scold.

"2:38," he answers immediately.

You pull all the stops, letting out a tired whine. "Take me to bed."

Your distress is his agony. You don't mean to take advantage of it, but sometimes you have to or Bruce will let himself go to places he shouldn't.

He sighs, standing up. He ignores the protest in his legs. His hand wanders up to the back of your neck, the pads of his fingers heavy yet soothing.

He gently leads you back up to the Manor, leaving everything. 

You don't waste much time when the door to your bedroom closed, cleaning up Bruce as much as he'd allow. You take his shirt off with practiced hands, even wincing yourself at the bruises on his ribs. 

You set him down on the bed, getting a wet rag and wiping his face. You're beyond gentle. It's something he loves- hates- no, loves about you. 

You are almost too different from Bruce. And yet, you're the same. 

He keeps his hands in his lap as you work, almost like he's trying to be polite. Like he'd do anything to keep you from being uncomfortable. 

As if you hadn't happily given him your body and soul.

But you love that about him. He's a confident bitch, but so unsure at times.

You take his hands yourself, placing them on your hips before cleaning his face again.

His fingers twitch individually, like he's remembering how to move each one. Then, he gently squeezes.

The poor washcloth was a pure white one. Alfred took pride in keeping his cleaning cloths a perfect white. Now, it's an ugly grey, black smeared in places. 

You're more content now. You can at least admire his face without dirt and eye black. 

"Take me to bed, huh? C'mon, big guy," you tease him. "Show me all those muscles you've been working on."

He shies under your praise. 

…

Bruce's hands gently wake you. "Your phone."

You groan and roll over, picking it up from the bedside table. 

Gordon.

You spare Bruce a pitying glance before answering.

"Dr. Wayne? The mayor is dead. I need you at his home as soon as possible. I'll send the address now."

Bruce's hand on your arm tightens.

"Be there in twenty," you mumble. You drop your phone to the bed and sit up.

Bruce watches you closely, like he always does. Observing. Calculating. It's a comforting thing at this point. The way his eyes catch the minimal light in your shared bedroom.

"Seems my vengeance starts in the early mornings," you jest in a serious tone.

His grasp on your arm hasn't faltered.

"Are you gonna go?" You ask him. In another life, you could both revel publically in the fact that you solve the biggest Gotham crimes together. But he's the Batman. And you're Dr. Wayne.

He nods. 

You lay back down, pushing yourself against him until your faces are inches apart.

"You're going to be careful," he says. Maybe it was supposed to be a question, but you don't mind that it's more of a demand.

You tip your chin up, pressing your lips to his.

For a man with steel reflexes, he is always so slow to respond to you. But when he does…

His arms wrap their way around you. His lips eagerly chase after yours, taking what he can get.

Gotham takes more than it gives. But it gave you Bruce. 

........................................................

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Cindereddie

Written for the @steddiebingo

Prompts: Slipper on the main card | Argyle on the Get Lucky bonus card

Rated: T

Tags: Post-Vecna; Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson; Recreational drug use; Jealous Steve; Idiots in love

“I lost my shoe,” Eddie declares, overjoyed and giddy. 

Sure enough, a look at his feet reveals one worn combat boot with the laces undone and one muddied sock with a toe poking out from a hole at the tip. There’s cartoon figures printed all over it. The sock, not the toe. Garfield, probaby, though it’s hard to tell with all the mud. 

“Huh?” says Steve. It’s pitch dark and raining, and he had just fallen asleep when the doorbell rang, and now Eddie is here - sopping wet, dragging a trail of muddy footsteps all over the front porch and aiming that wide, toothy grin at him that always makes Steve’s heart skip a beat. 

He feels like he missed something. 

Eddie’s smile, impossibly, goes wider. “I lost my-” 

“Yeah,” Steve interrupts him. “I see that, just- …What are you even doing here? I thought you were gonna hang with Argyle tonight?” 

He tries his best to keep the sneer out of his voice, to ignore the ugly twist that his stomach gives at the thought. Argyle is a decent guy, and there’s absolutely no need to feel jealous of this newly formed friendship between Eddie and him. Because that’s all they are. Just friends. Exactly like Eddie and Steve are just friends, so Steve has absolutely no right to get all moody and possessive like that. 

“Oh, I did,” Eddie nods, wet curls bobbing. “We sampled his new strain. Fairy Godmother. The Cali stuff has the wackiest names, but the way it hits? Metal as fuck, man.” 

Which … okay, that actually explains a lot. Like the way Eddie quite evidently can’t stop grinning. Or the way his eyes are even darker than usual, pupils almost entirely swallowing the browns and caramels of his irises. Or the southern drawl that has crept into his voice - barely there but just noticeable enough around some of the vowels. 

“Okay?” Steve says, valiantly attempting to keep his mouth from twitching, but what can he say? Eddie’s smile is contagious. “So you're high as balls. That still doesn't explain why you're here.” 

Eddie shrugs. “Wanted to see you. Don't you wanna see me?” 

His bottom lip juts out and his eyes go huge. Steve rolls his eyes. 

“I'm always happy to see you, idiot. Just… you couldn't have waited until tomorrow? You absolutely had to walk all the way here in the rain and the mud?” 

“Would've taken the van,” Eddie mutters around a fistful of hair. “Except I thought that was too risky.” 

Steve crosses his arms at him. “Well, I'm glad we agree on one thing at-”

“It might turn back any second.” 

Steve stares. “Pardon?” 

“Into a pumpkin,” Eddie says, like it makes sense. “It's almost midnight, right?” 

A look at his watch tells Steve that this is true. What it doesn't tell him is what the hell Eddie is on about. Steve pinches his nose. 

“What the fuck? Why would your van turn into a-” 

And then it clicks. 

“Oh God,” he groans. “Don't tell me you mean the fucking Fairy Godmother?” 

“I'm Cinderella!” Eddie beams. Then, his brow creases. “Cindereddie? Look, I even lost my-” 

“Your shoe,” Steve snorts, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to usher him inside. “I know. Pretty sure Cinderella wore glass slippers though, not combat boots.” 

Eddie scoffs and waves him off, but he does allow himself to be pulled into the entrance hall and maneuvered onto the little bench there. 

“Shit, you're freezing,” Steve mutters. “Hold on, I'll get you something to dry off.”

By the time he returns with a stack of clean towels and dry clothes, Eddie has already peeled out of his flannel and jacket and is sitting there in all his wet, bare-chested glory, humming to himself and idly kicking his muddy feet. 

“Jesus,” Steve mutters, throwing a clean sweater at his face. “I don’t believe you. What are you trying to do, get pneumonia?”

He doesn’t wait for Eddie’s reply, just drops to his knees on the marble tiles and pulls off the muddy sock. It makes a wet squelching sound as he tosses it aside. He has just finished towelling off the naked foot and moved on to removing the boot from the other when Eddie speaks again.

“Will you help me find it?” 

He is speaking from inside the sweater, so his voice comes out a bit muffled. Steve frowns up at him. 

“Find wha- … your boot?”, he asks. Eddie pops his head out of the sweater, all disheveled hair and adorable puppy dog eyes. “What? Argyle can’t help you with that?”

“I’m sure he would,” Eddie shrugs, wiggling his naked toes happily. “But he isn’t my Prince Charming, so …” 

Steve feels himself flush. Suddenly, he’s acutely aware of the picture they’re making - himself kneeling by Eddie’s feet and taking off his boot, like some weird reenactment of the prince putting the lost glass slipper on Cinderella. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” he blurts, yanking the boot off a little too roughly and shooting to his feet to pull Eddie up and towards the staircase. “We can find your stupid shoe tomorrow when it’s light. Right now, you need to sleep that high off.”

Eddie leans into him as they wobble up the stairs, hair tickling Steve’s neck. 

“Will my prince give me a kiss goodnight?”

“Shut up,” Steve grouses. 

And if he does bend down to sweep the damp curls from Eddie’s sleeping face, once he has tucked him into bed in one of the guest rooms? And if he does press his lips to his forehead?

Nobody but him needs to know. 

If he’s lucky, maybe Eddie’s lost boot won’t be the only thing he finds tomorrow. Maybe he’ll actually muster up the courage to tell him how he feels. 

More Steddie Bingo

[palinecrosis]

reed800 > reed900 and the mischaracterization of connor

I never understood people’s affinity for reed900 over reed800, and all the reasonings I’ve heard for it never make sense to me. Just to be clear, this post isnt meant to attack anybody who ships reed900, I’ve watched Detroit evolution alright. I fucked with it heavy. I’ve got a solid three Reed900 fics in my ao3 bookmarks. I have credentials. Don’t come for me.

Anyway, I will always prefer Connor and Gavin’s dynamic over a Nines and Gavin hypothetical one. I feel like the reason people don’t like covnin is because they often misinterpret Connor’s character, I see this amongst convin shippers too, not just people who dislike the ship. 

I keep hearing the argument that “Gavin hates Connor, and Connor doesn’t stand up for himself. Nines would be more cold, which matches Gavin’s personality.” This is probably the shittiest take I’ve ever heard. The DBH fandom tends to see Connor as meek. Because of this, they think he’s vulnerable to Gavin’s hostility, which is just not true. When we’re introduced to Gavin, he’s antagonistic towards Connor right of the bat. Connor, in order to keep the peace, remains professional. This is because initially, it’s not in Connor’s interest/programming to disobey or disrupt humans. He prefers to move along, focus on the mission and ignore unnecessary distractions. However, when Gavin persists, when the android being interrogated is about to self destruct, Connor has the choice to physically stop the officer from restraining it and he does, defying Gavin in the process as well. Connor does not care about Gavin’s human authority in this case, he only cares about what he knows to be true and sticking to his objective. 

Now you may bring up the breakroom scene in which Gavin punches Connor, Connor just seems to let it happen despite it being a direct physical attack and not just an offhand comment. I hate when people bring this up because at this time, Connor was not deviant yet. He did not develop enough consciousness/deviancy to actively choose to defend himself. Again, in order to move things along and cause the least ruckus possible, he takes it. I’ve also heard arguments that Connor “pretends” to be hurt in order to seem subservient to Gavin to make it seem like he’s not fighting back against a human. I like that theory! 

People also seem to forget that when things directly misalign with his mission, Connor is quick to go against anybody, even humans, who stand in the way. Have people forgotten what Connor did to Gavin in the archive room? He beat the living shit out of him, incapacitated him, and walked off with a final tie adjustment as if it was nothing. This is the Connor who you’re calling meek, the one who pretended to be the Traci’s dead girlfriend to get to Jericho. The one who sampled Markus’ voice to take advantage of beaten down Simon’s loyalty. The one who nagged Hank to rent Traci’s until the lieutenant humiliatedly obliged. The one who chased Kara and a child down a highway. The one who gets himself killed multiple times just to accomplish his mission. The one who sarcastically told Gavin he’d “miss their bromance.” PLEASE. 

All of this is to make a point for a romantic/sexual dynamic between Connor and Gavin that actually puts them as equals. Where we get the good ending with deviant Connor, androids having rights, Gavin being forced into sensitivity training and actually learn to see androids as people (we love the Gavin Reed Redemption tag). None of that degrading convin bullshit where Connor puts up with Gavin’s bigotry and thinks “I can fix him!” Where Gavin actually takes responsibility for his own behavior and slowly learns to change his outlook. 

Connor would not shut up to Gavin’s insults. He’d push back just as hard, sarcastic and sardonic in his own way. He’d spit some sort of off putting logical roast at Gavin to hurt his feelings, psychoanalyzing him to a T. They’d have amazing back and forth, banter fuelled with sexual tension, actual physical fights, prolonged angry eye contact, pinning down and grabbing dangerously close to certain areas. Connor beginning to warm up to Gavin’s hostility, being smart, seeing past it, knowing it’s a cover up for something more raw and vulnerable. Gavin starting to think “Maybe he’s not so bad” to “he’s funny” to “he’s pretty fucking hot” to “shit maybe I like him”. DO WE NOT SEE THE VISION!! 

anyways I need to convert more people to like convin. yeah you can make your case for reed900 but they will never have as much chemistry as convin and not nearly as much hatefuck potential. thank you for reading. 

[p1nkshield]

Part three of what I’m calling Fake a Foe rn idk

“Robin, Report”

Robin did not want to report. This was mortifying. He and his team got away by the skin of their teeth and it felt like Batman knew that.

“…Our mission did not go as planned. Unfortunately, there was a bit of a communication breakdown.” Robin mumbled at his shoes before looking up to see if he B bought it.

Bruce squinted at the attempt to leave out information.

Who was he kidding? He probably already knew.

“We got our butts kicked and then we were saved by a batch of cookies.” Wally blurted as he tested evening out his weight on both feet.

“Wally!” Artemis was the one to protest this time.

Star piped up “It is the truth. Our butts were indeed defeated.”

“Super boy got knocked out! I’ve never seen that happen before!” Wally said after hissing at the pain of his still very much sprained ankle.

Kon got defensive. “Oh yeah? And whose fault was that? He said he was an ice mage, couldn’t find your ice resistant arrows?”

“Oh now everything’s my fault! I had him down the longest! You just made him mad with your little baby punch!”

Kaldur attempted to reign everyone in.

“We should not be fighting, we are a team. I also bear some responsibility, had I not provided him with ice perhaps we would have won.”

“Everybody stop!”

This was already embarrassing enough without the team squabbling in front of Batman.

“If anything it was my fault. This was a reconnaissance mission and I went in blind on my own without telling any of you. I was captured and unable to leave or notify you. I’m sure it left each of you on edge and off your game. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Everyone but Batman regarded Robin with visible surprise.

“Hit the showers and head home.”

Apparently Batman was satisfied with that display.

Great!

Maybe Dick will be able to avoid one of his famous bat-lectures.

“Robin.”

He cringed.

“We’ll talk later.”

Maybe not.

One more thing of pressing importance needed to be said though.

“Oh, and Batman?”

An eyebrow raise was his response.

“He had some kryptonite! It seemed pretty weak though. At that dose super boy should have still been unconscious. I got a sample and I’m gonna test it at the cave. I just wanted to let you know.”

Robin stood there as he rambled, forcing false confidence onto his face and stance.

“Good job procuring a sample. It’s important that we figure out what it is as soon as possible.”

Robin headed to the bat cave trying not to look too happy over the bit of praise.

A beat of silence hung in the air before the sound of echoing laughter.

“Oh you should have seen the look on poor Robbie’s face as I threw his teammate a second time! Comedy gold! Mind if I send the CCTV footage to my friends? They’d love this!” Danny turned visible and floated down to the other hero.

Bruce only stared.

Danny returned the favor for a moment before reaching into his torso and producing a cookie jar.

“Want one? It’s chocolate chip!”

More staring.

“Why do you have kryptonite?”

“Okay, suit yourself.” He grabbed a cookie and returned the jar. “It wasn’t kryptonite. Or at least not real kryptonite.”

Batman looked quizzically at him.

Danny took a a bow. “My own proprietary blend! Sinfully synthetic and perfectly potent enough to send supers to sleepy time junction!”

Batman kept staring.

Oh. Oh.

“Look man, I can send you the formula if you need. I promise I’m not gonna pull a switcheroo on you. You already vetted me with Wonder Woman’s lasso.” Danny said as he leaned on the console the hero was working at.

He watched as Batman reviewed the moment Wally tripped over Kon.

Maybe he went too far.

No. Wait. Was that half a smirk on the dark knight’s face?

“Did you have to throw him twice?” The slightest tinge of amusement bled through Batman’s tone.

Danny beamed, so he didn’t mess up after all! “Oh absolutely!”

The Bat’s expression was schooled, his tone was even once more.

“Let me know if Robin has cracked the formula.”

Looks like Danny was also a chemistry tutor now.

Oh well, better than being bored.

Previous

[ririya-translates]

Jack Jeanne March/April 2025 News

Apologies if someone has already done a big news roundup post but I figured I'd write one for covering the fourth anniversary stuff and new book and manga releases.

This year's anniversary art took a very different direction from the formal styles from last year's with a more streetwear look. Official website here.

We got a livestream too with Yuka Terasaki (Kisa), Masumu Ono (Kasai), and Taichi Kusano (Mare) where they read some fan mail about things people like about JJ and which class they'd be in. The stream didn't reveal a lot of new news, although it does sound like Ishida and Towada are working on the sequel pretty much every day. Towada also posted this cute art before the stream on Bluesky.

On another stream Kisa's VA did with Gakuto Kajiwara (Shirota) she mentioned that she's only met with Ishida twice so far (and that he reminds her of Kenshi Yonezu??) so it sounds like probably a lot is going on in the planning and writing stage, but they're not at the recording stage yet. Also please watch this adorable clip of them singing Faded Color together.

As far as anniversary news, a lot of it was the expected things (mostly stuff that's hard to access outside of Japan) like Joysound karaoke collab, Gratte cafe collab, popup shops in Shibuya and Umeda with a little digital stamp collection game. I'm expecting merch to be sold online on Broccoli's store after the shops close at the end of March (requires a JP address so you will likely need a proxy shipping service outside of Japan). In addition to the acrylic stands and pins, there was a cute Tummy coffee tumbler and a sorta itabag-style tote with a window in it for showing off merch. They also announced a new drama CD coming out based on Towada's birthday stories (currently untranslated to my knowledge).

But the most exciting thing is that we're getting some new content! The first is a novel by Towada called 玉坂の光跡 or "Tamasaka's Trail of Light" which includes both the first anniversary novel "Happy Anniversary" (which used to be free but has sadly been cut to just a sample) and a new episode of 30k characters. It's a bit over 300 pages long which makes it slightly longer than the summer novel and Seven Winds. There's also some pre-order bonuses (art from Stella Worth and a visual board with a short story from Animate)

The second is a manga collection titled ジャックジャンヌ FOLIAGE ～アンバー・オニキス～ (Jack Jeanne FOLIAGE - Amber & Onyx) which has both Puppet and Parsley manga with some new art. If you want to check out the JP versions, I suggest trying to do so before April 17th as I'm unsure if they'll continue to be available for free after the commercial release.

But perhaps one of the most exciting things is that just today Ishida announced a new two-part manga one-shot published in Ultra Jump on April 18th. It's called "Duckweed" and will be focused on Minorikawa's first year after being picked to the be class lead's assistant and his challenges in managing all the Rhodonite girlies. Unlike the others, I do not expect this one to be posted officially online for free since it's being published.

For those who were maybe hoping for more sequel news, I do think the biggest thing we can take away from all this between the note at the end of Parsley, Kasai and Mare on the anniversary stream, and now a Minorikawa manga is that I get the strong sense the sequel will take place in the following year with Kisa as a second-year. I'm not sure how they will make this work with the graduated students, but that seems to be the direction all signs are indicating.

[alinathinkstoomuch]

hiiii I want to join the masses and thank you for bringing fake fiancé Hotch into our lives!

I had a random thought about them that you can completely ignore and delete but what if a case brought Hotch to his fake fiancée's work? 👀

She's trying to be professional (and failing) and Hotch is just trying to solve crimes without falling fast for his fake fiancée while also ignoring Rossi is being a brat about it all

CRAVING CLARITY - FAKE FIANCÉ

pairing: aaron hotchner x fake!fiancée!reader warnings | an: first of all thank you bestie!! hope i did your request justice 💓 fluff, shameless flirting, slight self-doubt from reader which aaron scoops up real quick, rossi being rossi. word count: 2.4k

✧ masterlist | part one & part two

You were elbow-deep in samples – literally and figuratively – drowning in endless deadlines with no lifeline in sight. Honestly, it felt like you were the only person in the entire company actually capable of meeting them. Carrying the whole operation on your back? Exhausting. Somewhere between fabric swatches and frantic emails, you had completely zoned out.

And you seemed to only snap back to reality when Bella, your assistant, waved her hands wildly in front of your face.

“Earth to you,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Did you hear a single word I just said, or should I start over with even bigger hand gestures.”

You blinked at her, still half-lost in the chaos of your to-do list. “Uh… something about me being a visionary genius who deserves an all-expenses-paid spa retreat?”

Bella rolled her eyes, plucking a stray patch of fabric from your desk. “Close, but no. I said there’s someone here to see you. Actually, two someones – both with FBI badges.”

You froze. “What? FBI?”

Oh no.

Had Hotch finally had enough? Had he officially put you on the infamous FBI watchlist? Decided that your emoji usage was a national security risk? Because honestly, you barely sent him that many – just the occasional heart, a well-placed sparkly star, maybe a winky face or two. And it’s not like he ever responded in kind. Not even once. Which, frankly, was an injustice.

And still, despite all your undeniable charm and very reasonable flirting, he had yet to ask you out. That, in itself, was a crime.

Which was exactly why you were going to make him wait. Just a minute. Or five. Just long enough to figure out what the hell he was doing here – and why flashing FBI badges was necessary in your perfectly peaceful, extremely fashionable workspace.

You smoothed down your outfit, tilting your head as you turned to Bella. “Did they say what it was about?” you asked, already moving toward the mirror, because if you were about to face Aaron Hotchner and whatever Bureau-level drama he had brought with him, you were at least going to look flawless doing it.

Bella shrugged, her eyes following you. “Something about needing access to records for a client we work with. No clue, honestly, sounds way above my pay grade.” She leaned against your desk, arms crossed. “They asked to speak to whoever’s in charge, and, well… that would be you.”

You sighed, fluffing your hair a little as you checked your reflection. And it was absolutely because your hair needed fluffing at this exact moment and not because a certain moody, absurdly handsome FBI agent was waiting for you.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” you muttered, making your way toward the lobby. As you turned the corner, it didn’t take long to spot them – Aaron Hotchner and his very good friend, and someone you’d quickly taken a liking to, David Rossi. It was slightly comical to see how out of place the two of them looked.

Would a splash of colour really kill them both?

You took a step closer, amusement curling at the edges of your lips. “So this is a thing now, huh?”

Hotch cocked his head, eyes narrowing as he watched you approach. “A thing?” he echoed, his voice sounding just as dry as you remembered.

Rossi, of course, wasted no time as he nudged him with a smirk. “Yeah, Aaron. You know – showing up at each other’s workplaces unannounced.”

You beamed, gesturing toward him. “See? Dave gets it.” You gave the two agents a once over, taking in their perfectly pressed suits and matching we-are-here-on-official-business expressions. You sighed dramatically, placing a hand on your hip. “Though, I do have one complaint… I don’t see any cookies.”

“Ah, yes. The cookies,” Rossi mused, turning to Hotch. “You should’ve seen him, going wild, breaking each one apart like they were evidence, searching for your number.” He gave you an approving nod. “Nice touch, by the way.”

Hotch exhaled very deliberately, eyes shooting daggers at Rossi. You, on the other hand, just giggled. He was ridiculously cute when he was flustered, all stiff posture and barely contained why do I put up with these people energy.

“Thank you, Dave.” Your tone was all honey-sweet innocence, like you hadn’t just turned Hotch’s mild embarrassment into your own personal entertainment. “Now, as much as I’d love to believe you’re here because the FBI finally approved a budget increase for uniforms, I have a feeling that’s not why you’re here.”

Rossi chuckled which caused Hotch to finally cut in before things finally spiralled completely out of control.  “Sorry to barge in like this. We’re here about a case.”

“How tragic.” Your hand made its way over to your heart. “And here I thought this was a romantic gesture.”

Hotch barely reacted – barely – but you didn’t miss the slight flare of his nostrils, the subtle shift of his jaw.

“We need access to client records from a company your firm collaborates with,” he explained, voice clipped, like if he just kept talking the entire conversation would magically reset itself. “Their CFO isn’t cooperating, and we believe you can help us expedite the process.”

“Mm,” you hummed, rocking back on your heels. “I can expedite a lot of things.”

That got him.

The barest shift of his mouth. The way his throat bobbed ever so slightly before he spoke. “The records,” he clarified, tone just a little tighter.

“You know…you’re awfully demanding for a man who still hasn’t taken me to dinner.”

“I didn’t realise dinner was a prerequisite for cooperation.”

You glanced briefly at Rossi, a silent Can you believe this guy? before turning back to Hotch. “Oh, Agent Hotchner,” you chided, sighing again as if he was the most exhausting man on the planet. “If you wanted my help, you could have just asked nicely.”

“I am asking nicely.”

You pursed your lips. “Are you? Because I think you could be a little nicer.”

Silence.

“You poor man,” Rossi chuckled, shaking his head. “This is hilarious.”

Hotch turned to Rossi who was still grinning like this was the highlight of his week – maybe even the entire month. “Are you done?”

“Not even close.”

“He really should be nicer to me, don’t you think?” You glanced at Rossi, like you were seeking expert legal counsel.

“Absolutely,” Rossi said without hesitation. “Common courtesy. Maybe some flowers. A little charm, even.”

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose like he was deeply reconsidering every life choice that had led him here. “I cannot believe I brought him with me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Alright, alright,” you relented, holding up your hands in surrender. “I suppose I could be persuaded to help. Purely out of the kindness of my heart, of course.”

Turning slightly, you motioned for Bella – who was definitely eavesdropping from just out of view – to come over. She sauntered in like she hadn’t just been shamelessly listening in.

“Bells, be a dear and show these two lovely gentlemen to the records they’re requesting.”

Before she could respond, Rossi held up a hand. “It’s alright,” he interrupted, cutting Hotch off before he could protest. “I’ll go, it’s not a two-man job.” Then, sparing you a knowing glance, he clapped Hotch on the shoulder. “You two can chat.”

You arched a brow, watching as Rossi motioned for Bella to lead the way.

And just like that, it was just the two of you.

You gaze flicked back to Hotch, your focus settling on him with an ease that almost annoyed you. Because, truly, how did this man manage to hold your attention so effortlessly? He wasn’t doing anything – just standing there, arms crossed, rocking that same old serious, mysterious expression. And yet, he might as well have had a gravitational pull.

They had to be teaching witchcraft at the FBI Academy. And maybe you should enrol, if only to figure out how to make him give you even an inch of the attention you kept throwing his way.

“Tell me, Aaron Hotch Hotchner, am I wasting my time here?” you asked, mirroring his stance as you crossed your arms.

His brow lifted, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond before pressing on.

“Because, at this point, I’ve done everything short of throwing my clothes off to get you to ask me out, and yet the only time you seem to come and see me is… well, today. And only because you need something.”

There. It was out.

You hadn’t planned to take the conversation in this direction, hadn’t expected to lay your cards out so plainly. But you were a woman who had suffered one too many heartbreaks, and at this point, you just needed clarity.

Because if this – whatever this was – was just some game to him, then you needed to walk away before you let yourself hope for something that would never happen.

Hotch didn’t react right away. He just looked at you, really looked at you, like he was weighing his response with the same precision he used to profile criminals.

That did not help your nerves.

“Well?” you prompted, your voice a touch softer, more hesitant. “Because if this is just some game to you –”

“It’s not a game.”

You swallowed, your fingers curling against your arms. “Then what is it?”

“You’re not wasting your time,” he assured you. “I just… can’t always give you as much of it as I want to.”

You let out small, breathy laugh. “God, you really have a way of making a woman work for it, don’t you?”

His lips parted, but before he could say anything, you kept going. “Because, see, this? This is the kind of thing a girl needs clarity on.” You gestured vaguely between the two of you. “If I like a man, I don’t not tell him. I bake, I flirt, I –” You huffed. “I wear my best heels and make sure my hair looks good when I know I might see him.”

His gaze flickered downward for a second before he brought it back up to your face.

“I work a lot,” he said finally. “And if I asked you to dinner, I’d want to be able to actually be there, not just physically, but completely. I wouldn’t want to have to leave halfway through because of a phone call. You deserve a date where I can give you my undivided attention.”

Oh.

Of all the things you had expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them. For the first time, Aaron Hotchner wasn’t shutting you down. He wasn’t brushing you off. He was telling you, plain and simple, that he wanted this – but he wanted to do it right.

And damn it, if that didn’t make you like him even more.

“Right… well, I’m busy too, you know. It’s not like I can just drop everything on a day that works for you or whatever.”

His smile was small but undeniable this time, and God help you, it was unfairly charming. “I wouldn’t expect you to. That’s why I’d ask in advance.”

You let a breath out, swirling a finger in the air at him. “Unbelievable. I am supposed to be the one making you flustered.”

“You do.”

You groaned, pressing your hands over your face in defeat. “Aaron Hotch Hotchner, I’m going to need you to vacate this building immediately.”

“I don’t think that’s how FBI jurisdiction works.”

You dropped your hands. “I don’t care how FBI jurisdiction works. You are menace, and I need you gone before you say something else that makes me –” You gestured vaguely in the air again, trying to find the right words. “– like you even more.”

His brow lifted and you hated that he looked so pleased with himself. “That would be a problem?”

“Yes!” you blurted before catching yourself. “Because my feelings for you need to be contained, okay? Like a jug that must not overflow. Not until I get that stupid date. I cannot like you more than I do now. It is against my nature, Aaron Hotch Hotchner.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

“Oh, don’t smile at me,” you lectured. “You know I’m right!”

“I don’t think emotions work like that.”

“Well, mine do,” you argued. “I have a system, Hotchner. A process which you are disrupting.”

He took a step closer. Too close. Instinctively, you took one back, because absolutely not. He could not be this close to you right now, not when you were in such a delicate (feral) state.

“And what exactly is this system?” he asked, his voice maddeningly calm.

You scoffed, waving a hand. “Oh, it’s very simple. I flirt. You ignore me. I get bored. I move on. That was the plan. But now? Now you’re smiling at me and talking about dates in advance, and frankly, I find it very disruptive to my workflow.”

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t want to throw off your workflow,” he murmured, voice dropping slightly.

You gasped, pointing at him with pure betrayal. “There! That! That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“What?” He feigned innocence and you wanted to shove him straight out the damn door and call security on him.

“You know what,” you accused. “You’re flirting.”

“I thought that was part of your system.”

“Oh my God.” You threw your hands up. “I take it back. You are not allowed to be good at this.”

He nodded, as if this was a very serious discussion. “Ah. So, to be clear, you want me to ignore your advances?”

You stared at him, eyes narrowed. And then, without thinking, you stepped forward, grabbed him by the lapels of his stupid FBI suit, and let out a long, dramatic groan into his chest. “Aaron,” you muttered into the fabric, “I hate you.”

His body was still for a second. Then, to your absolute horror, you felt his chest rumble with something dangerously close to a chuckle.

You yanked yourself back so fast you nearly tripped, eyes wide with betrayal. “Did you just laugh?”

“No.” His tone would agree, but his face did not.

“Oh, my God.” You shoved at his chest, half out of indignation, half just to do something with your hands. “You’re enjoying this.”

He didn’t confirm or deny it.

Which meant he absolutely was.

Before you could formulate a proper rebuttal, a voice cut in from behind you.

“Well, it’s a good thing we went to get these,” Rossi said, strolling in beside Bella. “Otherwise, God knows what these two would get up to in the back room.”

You took a very large, very obvious step back. “Please, Dave. We’re professionals.”

Rossi smirked. “Oh, sure. That’s definitely what me and Bella have just walked in on.”

tags - @fandomscombine @dohmeti @pastelpinkflowerlife @hazzyking @bernelflo @risenqueen1521 @jazzimac1967 @camihotchner @abschaffer2 @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @pacmillo-blog-blog

dividers by cafekitsune

[dammit-tazmuir]

John is DEFINITELY being careful, and I'm actually not convinced on "he's probably been fucking citizens the whole time." It may be Dios Apate / the Deception of "Zeus" (and also it's recently occurred to me Mercy in turn is loosely Hera and I love this), but he very much does not have Zeus's horny habits.

(I saw your other reblog but had already written most of this post.) It took Augustine and Mercy 500 years to get everything perfectly set up to seduce him for Dios Apate Major, and another 20 before they tried a watered down version of that trick again. And that's with people who yes he knows are powerful but he's also loved since before the Resurrection. He doesn't trust them but he doesn't trust anyone fully.

And even DURING DA Major, John specifically made a point not to let himself finish. Like that's a canon detail. The only reason they were able to obtain the sample is because Mercy's anatomist powers are ridiculous (and Augustine keeping his attention divided probably helped ensure he wouldn't notice). He did not know they got that.

He's also been very careful to never bleed. He's extremely aware any genetic material could become a key to the Tomb, and he's always been extremely paranoid and cautious. "Guys as careful as me don't have accidents." I highly doubt he's been careless with risks, if he had taken any at all.

So what about Sarpedon?

I definitely think there's SOMETHING between them before, if only because reading Sarpedon and Mercy clashing at the beginning of HtN as a petty ass fight between Pearl and one of Rose Quartz's human lovers is entirely too funny to give up lmao. I just suspect John had always been extra careful and/or creative, and also probably tried to keep any such dalliances rare and discreet. Or maybe it was even a more chaste relationship, for a while.

But more recently? I mean, Ianthe literally brings up Sarpedon specifically as an example of "Drowning his sorrows in whatever or whoever comes to hand." Like... John's done and been through a lot of fucked up shit and even putting Alecto in the Tomb is something he's still sensitive about people bringing up 9,000-some years later. But in the past six months he lost both his immortal partners, after both tried to kill him, lost his lifelong best friend and most devoted follower, lost his physical home of nearly a myriad and all the bones of fallen friends and followers and every personal belonging (his tablet... 😩) and everything else inside, and now DEVILS are surfacing and spreading and he can't keep them contained, and for what? It's been 10,000 years and not only has he not achieved his goal, but Blood of Eden is stronger than ever, or at least close to it alongside the best hand they've ever been dealt. And he's running out of excuses. It's getting harder and harder to deflect blame.

(Also "The Tower Has Reactivated" and TAMSYN WHAT DO YOU MEAN RE... I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing for John but I suspect even if it's good it's also desperate...)

Like. Of course he's passing out drunk. Of course he's getting more reckless fucking around. Of course he's reached a point where waking up to Alecto stabbing him just gets a "Good morning." He's having a whole ass breakdown. And drastic actions on impulse are nothing new, but it really does feel like this level of rock bottom for him is.

i recently saw a post on here talking about how when harrow arrives on the mithraeum, mercy doesn't know that the eggs she gave wake had died and that she had implanted herself instead, so when mercy confirms that harrow is not the bomb-baby, she's relieved partly because that would make harrow her own biological child.

which to me raises a very important question: do we know for sure that the eggs she gave wake were actually her eggs?

i've been assuming mercy sourced the eggs from one of the houses that make babies in incubators. obviously mercy has to be the one to collect john's specimen (ew), but i don't see why the eggs would need to be hers.

it seems likely that wake has to go through the actual pregnancy because mercy can't get pregnant. we've never heard about any of the lyctors getting pregnant despite the fact that they've been alive for thousands of years and canonically spent a lot of that time sucking and fucking. i've been assuming they can't get pregnant for the same reasons as the vampires from twilight can't (immortality, unchanging bodies, technically dead, etc). and i feel like if mercy could have avoided outsourcing the most important part of the plan to wake (a dubious ally at best) by having the baby herself, she would have.

i guess not being able to carry a pregnancy to term doesn't necessarily mean her eggs aren't viable, but i still don't see why it would make the most sense for mercy to extract her own eggs to make the baby bomb. maybe to involve the fewest number of people to keep it a secret from john? but it seems like it would be easy for her to just steal some eggs.

does anyone remember if it's in the text anywhere? all i remember is "THE EGGS YOU GAVE ME ALL DIED," and i feel like if the eggs had come from mercy then wake would have just said "your eggs."

thoughts??????

[fisheito]

... peace on planet bottom, then there's whatever this is

[hanzajesthanza]

should i change my headcanons based upon “i saw it in a dream”

[rohirric-hunter]

.

[ask-the-royal-absol]

Champ: Oh ho! We definitely do take out if you wanna give one to your friend. Let me just whip those up for you!

*Champ wheeled himself into the back room, arranging the dishes he had in mind for the lycanroc. He spent ages this morning preparing all of his recipes so it was rather easy to assemble. The only thing he hated doing was wrapping the burrito. He may have had four arms but that didn't necessarily mean he was dextrous with them. Still, he gave it a go. It may not look the prettiest but it certainly did taste amazing. He tried to fill it to be as full as possible. He knew the meat in this one was incredibly tender and it would pair well with the rice and other vegetables that went with it. A quick fry sealed the sides of the burrito, which helped to hide his poor wrapping skills. Champ wrapped the burrito in some foil and carefully placed it onto a plate.

Next came the chilli. Now, this chilli was famous to those who knew of it. Not his hottest dish ever but it was certainly a deadly heat to those who had never had spice before. He knew the peppers used were ridiculous as they were skull-shaped. He used one in this and it really did add some intense heat. He hoped whoever it was, that could handle the spice, would sweat from this. Some of the bravest fire types who felt they could handle it gasped for breath afterwards. He added a single pepper to the pot-like container the chilli was in, popped a lid on and wheeled back out, smiling at his creations.*

Champ: So, for you I have the energy ball burrito. There's a bit of spice in there but not too much to overwhelm you. Everything should be combined perfectly to give you that nice hit of flavour. Almost a boost of energy for you.

*Champ gestured to the container of chilli. It was actually impressive how Pokémon were able to create a paper that could hold its shape and withstand liquids and heat. Champ didn't know how - probably something relating to core energy - but it was useful for his business.*

Champ: And in here is the Blue Flare chilli. Named after one of the Truth Bearer's moves itself, this one is sure to pack a punch. Trust me, I've seen her fire. It was devastating to say the least. Not even the most sturdy of fire types have been able to withstand its heat. You'll have to let me know if your friend likes it.

*And a question about the peppers. He figured this topic may come up. May as well share where he got them from.*

Champ: Now these peppers actually come from a farm in Terrestria. Not the kingdom mind you but a farm near a little village called Newholde. Coalbery farm, it's called. They've been able to cultivate peppers like these using fire type moves to provide the right amount of heat. I think a lot of these peppers aren't native to Arkaedia and have come from overseas but nobody's really left here for hundreds of years at this point. We're lucky we've been able to keep seeds from these distant lands all this time. Power of science, I tell you. Or perhaps magic. Who knows!

*Champ chuckled.*

Champ: My husband is the one who usually makes the journey to Newholde to collect them. As much as this wheelchair is fantastic for travel, it's definitely not built for a distance like that on paths like those. Incredibly bumpy dirt paths can really damage the wheels and it can be really expensive to replace them. Perhaps those Mechanians can figure out how to make them cheaper. My husband has a little cart to carry all of our ingredients in so he's able to make the journey there and back in good time. I think he's said sometimes the farm will give out samples of their peppers to taste, which is how he was able to find them out. Definitely worth the long trek if you ask me.

(@ask-the-shiny-pokemons) Rimi approaches the gang. She could recognize Hope only and not recognize Felix. However, she sees a familiar face.

"Hiii! How's goin'? I think...you remind me of that certain mon I've met earlier. You're also sound like them...

Why is Destly look like this. I don't understand... I don't really think Absols can transform too..."

She is now facing towards Champ.

"Oh, heyo. You remind me of Edin...somehow...anyways, I wanna order somethin', just don't know why to order. Any suggestions?"

*Destino rubbed their head and got back onto their seat, smug grin hiding the small amount of pain that stomp or whatever it was did.*

(1/4)

[tackminyard]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw

[littlebigmouse]

I saw Fight Club for the first time yesterday and to the best of my memory, this was the second time I consciously noticed Edward Norton in a movie (I have a bad memory for actor's names and faces, I may have seen him around but wouldn't know).

The first time was Primal Fear.

This makes Edward Norton the second most specific type cast in hollywood in my book (right after the actress who played cinderella's evil stepsister in like, three different adaptations).

[thenexusofsouls]

"Okay, but let's... not get hurt again, and let's get you checked out as soon as we can to make sure you don't have a concussion or something worse. Safety first, Wanda. You know on planes they tell people to put their own oxygen masks on first before heling the person next to them. Well, let's make sure we're safe and then we can help them." He did feel really bad, though, and was eager to get the ball rolling.

He found Vision and set him to work analyzing Pilot's blood sample for a genome in the laboratory while he set about getting the regeneration cradle moved near Pilot's cell. Tony then told Vision that, once he had a genome, he should meet them by the holding cell and they could get the cradle up and running, hopefully printing some tissue grafts to repair Pilot's wounds.

Zhaan smiled rather pensively at Wanda's comment. "Although I may appear calm externally, internally I am far from it, I assure you," she said. "We... deal with much prejudice and cruelty on an almost daily basis, wherever we land, or with whoever might attempt to board our ship. I suppose my defensiveness is programmed into me at this point, being so used to automatically being regarded unkindly. It is most difficult to watch those I love be treated poorly. But I should not assume that Earth is as cruel as many other planets."

As Wanda came into the cell to sit near her, Zhaan continued to stroke Pilot's head. Sometimes touches in reality could translate into the dream world, she knew, and she was doing her best to influence his dreams pleasantly with her own energy as well. "Precious little, I am afraid, until I can surgically repair the damage. He could probably also do with a blood transfusion, but... that is difficult if not impossible given his physiology. It would not reach his extremities well enough. No, all we can do right now is wait. I am doing what I can to at least try to give him pleasant dreams while he sleeps."

- - - - -

"I... think you are more of a danger to us in that regard," Aeryn said. "We are not used to any of the dangerous microbes on your planet."

"Dangerous microbes?" Rygel asked, recoiling nervously.

"Crichton mentioned them. He said there are all sorts of disease causing bacteria and other things on Earth," Aeryn replied.

"Great! That's just what we need," Rygel griped, throwing up his stubby arms in annoyance. When the man said he'd get him some food, though, the annoyance melted away in favor of ingratiating himself instead. "Oh, thank you. Thank you very much."

Upon hearing that Zhaan was moved to where Pilot was, both Aeryn and Rygel seemed relieved. "Good, Zhaan will know what to do."

"Perhaps, but will she have what she needs to do it with?" Rygel asked.

"Probably not," Aeryn said darkly. "But at least she can comfort him."

"We aren't going to assault anyone! We just want food and freedom, basic things to which we are entitled!" he said, eager to get out of the cell.

"Stuff a sock in it, Rygel," Aeryn said. She looked to Steve and seemed to straighten, as would a soldier at attention. "Yes. I give you my word that neither Rygel nor myself will attack anyone. And if you move us near Zhaan, I will make certain she understands that she is not to harm anyone either. I... unfortunately cannot make such a promise for Pilot, since it seems he may be mentally compromised as a result of his injuries, but if he does harm anyone, it would be unintentional. He is not a violent creature. With us around him, he is likely to be less afraid, and that may help keep him calm and still."

“Are you friend or foe?” (For Zhaan)

Zhaan looked up at the young woman from where she sat inside her holding cell, not unlike the one used by Loki years prior. "Given our respective positions on either side of these walls in which I find myself imprisoned, I would say... at present... neither. But there is time yet for misunderstandings to be cleared and injustices to be set right." Her tone was not antagonistic, but it was guarded. She did not appreciate being incarcerated yet again after finally escaping Peacekeeper oppression after a number of years, yet she could hardly blame this woman for that. Still, trust was something that would have to be built.

The wormhole that had facilitated the invasion of New York City was not to be the only such anomaly to occur, it seemed. Another had just been detected, though this time, the results had been far less... dramatic. Something had come through, however. Perhaps several somethings. Both SHIELD and the Department of Defense were still attempting to determine exactly what.

One being had been captured thus far. A Delvian, apparently, by her own admission. No one had any idea what a Delvian was, or what such a being was capable of. For now, she was being contained at the Avengers compound, both because of the unknown level of threat she posed and for biological containment purposes. She could be carrying pathogenic microbes, after all.

Zhaan had been both interested and concerned to discover that she was on the planet Earth. It was John Crichton's home planet. How agonizingly ironic that she should be sent here and not him. Still, it was a planet entirely unfamiliar to her, and for that reason, she had to remain cautious. Although most of the humans who encountered her seemed unwilling to treat her as anything more than a caged pet, an oddity on display, or a test subject to be poked and prodded, there had been a few who had bothered to actually speak with her. Through them, she had learned where she was, at least, but was no closer to being able to gain her freedom.

And now... this young woman had chosen to speak to her. She did not look like the usual soldier or government official that had spoke to her - no, interrogated her - up until this point. That gave Zhaan some hope that perhaps this might be a different sort of interaction. Slowly, she rose from the bench she had been sitting on and walked closer to the glass. If the relative age of Crichton was to be any basis for comparison, this woman looked very young indeed. Then again, all humans were young ones compared to Zhaan. Eighty years... That was about how long Crichton had said the average human lived. Zhaan had already lived ten times that long.

Standing closer to the woman, inasmuch as the glass was still dividing the space between them, Zhaan's polite smile faded into a look of concern. Despite her situation, she was still an empath and a tenth level Pa'u, and for those reasons, she found it impossible to ignore the pain of others... even that of her own captors. "My goodness... There is such a heavy sadness that follows you," Zhaan said, her voice gentle and almost pained, as if she was feeling it too. It felt like... grief to her, but with humans she could never really be sure at first impression. She simply wasn't as familiar with their minds and emotions yet. "Are you alright?"

[xcziel]

feeling nostalgic and watching utube reactors discover classic songs and then feeling both old and incredulous

[allofuswantgwinam]

i hate when people who im not into flirt with me bc i literally start buffering right in front of their eyes and then idk how to be myself anymore bc stop it 🤣🤣 one of my favs today was like “how are you doing pretty lady” and i straight up froze and looked like i was malfunctioning 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤧🤧🤧 but i made it out ok, I think 🤣🤣 cause I do t wanna hurt peoples feelings either but maybe he was just being nice lmao i just try to act like everything is normal and they didn’t say that 😵‍💫 THEN I think this one guy called me babe like a week ago and I wa s just like “… thanks” and I really think he did bc he hasn’t been back since then and I feel bad now 🤣🤣 was also one of my favs, why they gotta like me 😅😅