#But don’t treat your adult friends like children like “are you sure? Maybe you’d like to taste a bit? This is really good”

[hostilehospitalbeds]

can we please as a society normalize not consuming meat at EVERY meal. No im not veg. I just am choosing not to have meat in this meal. It’s a perfectly good meal the way it is. I like it. Let a girl eat her carbs and cheese and veggies (and maybe some other protein like beans or eggs) in peace!!!

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VII: Choose Love or Sympathy

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: xo by fall out boy, lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, king for a day by pierce the veil

a/n: hear me when i say these two are absolutely in for it it. I'm also a huge fan of italics apparently

chapter tags: angst, hurt/comfort but then... hurt/no comfort (SORRY!), reader is a sensitive baby we love her, mean!Eddie, but also very sweet Eddie. swearing, smoking, drinking, reader struggles with self image / mental health (vague for now) | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog/comment/like to support the author! Join the tag list!

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotine @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality |

--

The weekend comes barreling towards you sooner than you’d have liked. You wake up Friday morning with a sense of dread, Robin’s words on a broken loop in your head: what you ‘know’ isn’t the whole goddamn story. Everyone keeps fucking saying that, but no one has actually told you what you “don’t know.”. Chris hasn’t given you a goddamn leg to stand on, speaking in riddles and never once confirming or denying a thing. You’re an adult, and you wish these fuckers would start treating you like one.

On your nightstand, your phone buzzes repeatedly, a string of incoming text messages:

bobbins: so,, ive smoked some weed bobbins: im cool now  bobbins: i still think there’s a lot we don’t know,, bobbins: but I’m sorry for insinuating you should forgive him. bobbins: i cant imagine how you felt that day. bobbins: i love u bb

You scramble to respond before she can get another five messages in,

it’s ok bob, i love u 2

The subject changes swiftly as she tosses questions about tonight at you one after the other. You send her pictures of your outfit choices, hairstyle ideas, personal protection list before finally asking her the question gnawing on your brain. 

What if he doesn’t like me?

Robin responds by calling you.

“Hi?”

“Don’t be stupid.” She starts, not letting you explain. “He asked you out, why wouldn’t he like you?!”

“I dunno! Maybe he’s just looking for a hookup. Maybe he thought I’d be easy?” The suggestion sounds silly coming out of your mouth, and you hear Robin scoff at you. 

“Look, if things start to stink, call me. Steve’s closing tonight, so he’ll be right down the street.”

You sigh into the receiver. “Okay, okay. You’re right, I’m probably worried for nothing.”

“Atta girl! Now go on, go headbang or whatever it is you people do.”

You snort as you say your goodbyes, and hang up the phone. Without Robin to distract you, you turn to the outfits you’ve spread out on your bed. Emo Nite is casual, sure, but you still want to look good. You decide on a pair of Tripp pants, adorned with metal hooks and chains, pairing it with an old Paramore shirt you cropped with kitchen scissors in high school. With your outfit out of the way, you sit at your vanity to do your makeup, extending your winged eyeliner a little further than you would on a normal day. When you’re done, your alarm clock reads 8:30, and you make your way to your car. 

–

9:15.

The lights of the city seem to dance across the sky. Everything is louder here, bustling with nightlife you could only dream of seeing in Hawkins. You’re standing outside the club alone, nursing the end of your last cigarette. Maybe he’s running late? You don’t have a single unread text from Scotty. You type several different messages of your own, deleting each one before settling on “You on your way?” But its delivery is never confirmed. It’s grown cold outside, and you wrap your flannel tighter around you to keep the wind out. You should have brought a jacket, but you weren’t expecting to be outside for this long. You can hear the first notes of an old favorite song, followed by a bunch of 20 somethings cheering. Patrons are dressed in black, clad in leather and fishnets, their combat booted feet stomping into the venue. Emo Nite is a nostalgia cash grab, you know that, but you’re envious of everyone setting foot inside, surrounded by their friends and peers, leaving you abandoned at the door. 

–

9:30.

The time taunts you from your phone screen. You’re waiting outside the club, the air brisk on your face. Every so often, the door swings open as someone enters or exits, and you turn to see if it’s someone for you. So far, none of them have been, and you’re debating whether or not to walk to the record store and ask Steve to hitch a ride back to his place to mope. 

“Hey, Bee!” The voice calling you isn’t the one you’re hoping to hear, but it’s just as familiar. You find its source across the street, Macy waving at you eagerly as her bandmates and fucking Eddie follow behind. Oh, right. Like being stood up isn’t humiliating enough, now Eddie gets to tease you about it. 

“What’re you doing out here, girl? It’s freezing!” Macy is sweet, holding your icy cheeks between her warm hands. You can tell she’s already had a few drinks.

“I’m, hm,” You clear your throat, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“A date? Eek! Hear that, Eds? Our girl has a date!” Her words send static through your veins. Since when are you anyone’s girl, let alone Munson and Macy’s?

“Mhm, okay, honey. Let’s go get you situated, yeah?” Eddie ushers her inside, handing her off to Fiona before returning to where you’re standing. Without a word, he lights a cigarette and offers it to you, and you take it without acknowledgement while he lights his own. After what seems like hours, the two of you choose to speak at the same time,

“How late is–” “Why did you–” “What?” “What?”

“You first,” Eddie gestures to you before pulling from his cigarette.

“Why did you tell Scotty to ask me out?” 

“What in the world makes you think I told him to ask you out?”

“Look, she’s gonna kill me for telling you this, but Robin overheard you in the bathroom talking to Scotty at the bar. She walked in by accident, and you two had come in before she could leave. Anyway, you know she can’t keep secrets for shit, so she told me what you said to him. Why?” You cross your arms, attempting to hold in as much body heat as possible,but to no avail. Eddie notices, and immediately sheds his jacket, not giving you a chance to refuse it as he drapes the leather over your shoulders. 

“I thought he was a cool dude. Thought you guys would hit it off.” His answer does nothing to satiate the hunger for every detail of every single thought that went through his brain up until this very moment. He is driving you fucking insane. “Hey, I bet I could get Macy to put you on the guestlist, so at least tonight won’t be a total waste?” Yet another peace offering from Eddie Munson. Hell must have frozen over.

He doesn’t wait for your approval before reaching into his inner jacket pocket of the coat that you have since put fully on to shield yourself from the wind, to grab his phone. After eagerly punching a few buttons, he holds the device up to his ear, plugging the other with his finger. “Hey, babe. I’m outside with Bee, Scott stood her up.” You can’t hear what Macy’s response is, but Eddie replies with, “You read my mind, honey. We’ll be in in a sec.” He ends the call and turns his attention back to you, his big brown eyes attempting, it seems, to read your mind. “You pissed?”

You shake your head, inhaling another drag of your cigarette. “Not really. Disappointed, I guess.” You pick at your cuticles, refusing to hold eye contact with Eddie, but that doesn’t stop him from boring his own into the top of your head; you can feel them penetrating your skull. “Could’a used the distraction.”

“Fancy me a distractor? Macy’s gonna be busy, I’m practically all by myself tonight.” You look up, and Eddie’s jutting his bottom lip out to pout at you. 

“You don’t mind being seen with me?” You tease, flicking ash onto the concrete. You can’t imagine Eddie actually wants you to agree to this offer.

“Why would I? When have I ever cared what people think of me? Especially these posers.” He gestures to you, and you fake offense.

“Posers?! I’ll have you know I have met some of the most authentic punks at places like this, you dweeb!” You toss your cigarette butt on the ground, stomping out the embers with your boot. 

“Sorry, sorry! I’m used to going to shows where people leave bloody. Not used to this side of the alternative Venn Diagram, I guess.” He flicks his own cigarette, mirroring your movements. “Shall we go inside?” You nod begrudgingly, and he opens the door to the club for you, stopping to give the bouncer your names.

–

The club is dark, expectedly. The lights flash shades of pink, purple, and blue as people dance and attempt to chat over the noise; and the whole scene is set to the music of your childhood and teen years. As Eddie leads you across the floor, you can feel your chest tighten, watching couples surrounding you, dancing or sloppily making out against the back wall. You let it sink in that you've been stood up. The first time in three years you’d even attempted to go on a date, and the guy didn’t even show up. You hum along to the song playing, a desperate plea for distraction from the situation in front of you. Meanwhile, Eddie leads you to a table away from the speakers, and shouts that he’ll be right back. You can only guess he’s off to wish his girlfriend luck.

While you wait, you observe the crowd around you, and it’s full of kids you knew in high school that used to bully you for liking this kind of music, dressed as caricatures with arm warmers and cheap chains dangling off their black skinny jeans. Conventionally attractive girls wear their eyeliner in heavy wings, their lips painted shades of dark red, dancing with boys in all black with long hair. You try not to think about what Scotty would have worn. You wonder if he even likes this kind of thing. Maybe it was a test, and you'd failed.

Just as you’re about to spiral into misery again, Eddie returns with two drinks in his hands. “You like shirleys, right? I wasn’t totally sure. I can go grab you something else if you want?” If you didn’t know any better, you would think Eddie was nervous.

“No, this is good. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem!” He has to yell over the music.

“And, uh, thanks for hanging out with me. I know it’s like, the last thing you wanna be doing right now.”

Eddie takes a swig of his beer before responding, “Nah, definitely not the last thing. This is way better than listening to Steve talk about his latest conquest.” You picture the scenario, Eddie slamming his head against a wall while Steve goes on and on about Tracy, or Nicole, or whoever it is this week. The mental image makes you giggle, and Eddie’s smile seems to widen. It makes you uncomfortable, being so close to him. Luckily, though, you don’t get to think about it too long.

“Alright, alright! Thank you guys for comin’ out to hang with us! We have a guest for you tonight, please welcome Macy Miller, frontwoman of Statuesque Dolls!” The crowd cheers politely, these things never have people worth freaking out over. Macy takes the stage, clad in a silky black dress that hugs her form perfectly. Next to you, Eddie is whooping and hollering, “That’s my girl!” It makes your stomach churn. You’re reminded again that you’re supposed to be here on a date. You’re supposed to be someone’s girl. 

“Alright, I got a couple of songs for you guys, but I need all of you up and shaking some emo ass with me, got it?!” You can’t deny Macy knows how to work a crowd. She gets people to migrate to the dance floor, and Eddie offers his hand out. “Can I have this dance?”

“Um,” You hesitate to take his outstretched palm. “What about Macy?” You point lamely to where Macy is killing her cover of Fall Out Boy’s XO.

“What about her? It’s a dance, Bee. I’m not, like, asking you to sleep with me or some shit.” Eddie frowns at you, like you’ve offended him.

He does have a point, though. One dance won’t kill you. You accept his gesture, taking his own massive hand in yours, and hope to god he can’t tell that yours is sweating. He leads you to the dance floor, waving to Macy from the crowd as he does. There’s a burn in your stomach when she blows him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it in his mouth. You’re close to bailing when Eddie turns his attention back to you, clearing his throat.

You stare back at him, eyes wide with fear that he’s going to bail, and you prepare to tuck your tail between your legs and call Robin. Instead, Eddie takes your hand again, and yanks you into his embrace. You bump into his chest, but he recovers the fumble by holding you there, free arm resting hesitantly on your waist. You’re frozen, having no clue where to put your hands, so Eddie takes the lead. He drops the hand he’s holding on his shoulder, and moves your other to meet it on the other side. He then rests both his hands on your hips, giving you enough space between his body and yours to breathe, but barely.

The song continues, melodramatic and overtly horny. That, combined with the warmth of the drink in your veins, plus the closeness of Eddie, makes you feel almost good. It’s difficult not to overthink, though, having him in your personal space, your bodies pressed together on a very hot, crowded dance floor, moving in ways you definitely wouldn't have done three hours ago.

“So,” Eddie muses, looking anywhere but at you as he speaks, but still able to move in sync with you. “How’s your day goin’?”

You snicker at his poor attempt at conversation. “Well, I got stood up, and now I’m dancing with who I would have bet this morning wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. All things considered, I think it’s going pretty horribly!” 

The ice seems to crack as you speak, Eddie visibly relaxing as you sway to the music. “Okay, that’s fair. Are you pleasantly surprised?”

You look up at him, but his eyes are locked over your head, staring where Macy stands onstage, swaying with a few friends in front of the DJ booth. You shrug. “Jury’s still out.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes at you. After what feels like an eternity, the song ends and Macy queues another rock anthem to get the crowd moving again. You’re unmoving as Eddie unwraps himself from you. “We should do this again sometime.” He states, unreadable.

“What, dance?”

“Sure, or just, y'know, hang out. Be civil for once. It’s been awhile.”

You roll your eyes. “You know this can’t be, like, a normal thing. It bruises our reputation as sworn enemies.” A feeble attempt to make it a joke, though you know in your heart you can’t be friends with Eddie. The earth would cave in on itself. 

Eddie chuckles. “Whatever you say, Bee. See ya ‘round.” And he leaves you alone, disappearing into the crowd.

–

It’s 11:30 when your phone buzzes. You’re four drinks deep, stirring another dirty shirley at the bar, observing the people around you having fun.

Scotty A: Hey! Totally meant to text you. Got stuck at work.

An avalanche of thoughts rumbles through you, most of them not safe for work. You don’t even know how to respond. There’s no apology, no groveling for your forgiveness, not a hint of actual, real regret. Like you don’t matter. It exhausts you to even think of what that date would’ve been like had he shown up. You type your response between gulps of liquid courage.

“Are you fucking serious?”

The "..." bubble appears, but quickly vanishes. You gape at your phone, wishing you were home so you could let out the blood curdling scream building in your chest. The anger vibrating through you needs an escape, so you lurch from your seat at the bar, rushing quickly out of the club. Eddie whips his head around as you pass him. You think you hear him call your name, but your eyes have started stinging and he’s the last person you want to see you cry.

The night air hits you hard, bringing separate tears to your eyes. Following your therapist’s advice, you start a box breathing exercise. Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. 

“Hey,” The voice startles you into a hiccup. “You okay?” Eddie has made his way outside after you, leaning against the wall. “Saw you dash outta there like something caught fire. Got worried.” He says it nonchalantly, and it takes you aback. Instead of responding, you flip your phone screen towards him. His eyes scan the page before they focus back on you, shaking his head. “That is so fucked up.”

Your voice breaks with your next question. “Did you know this was gonna happen? Scotty’s your friend.”

Eddie’s face drops into a grimace. “How would I have known? Why would I have told him to hit you up if I knew this was gonna happen?” 

It frustrates you how reasonable he’s being. You want someone to yell at, someone to blame, and Eddie just so happens to be the closest target. “I don’t know! Maybe you did it as revenge, or something equally as immature. Maybe you wanted me to feel the same way you did when–”

He interrupts, shaking his head feverishly. “I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone. Even you.” The words are a knife to your chest. You don’t like remembering what you did to Eddie that night, but it’s your fault for bringing it up. “I told Scotty to ask you out because he said he liked you. Crazy concept, I know, but i suggest you stop thinking everyone’s out to get you. I thought it would be fun, hanging out with you and him. I’m sorry it didn’t go how you planned, but blaming me isn’t fucking fair, Bee.”

He’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to back down. “It’s not fair to take someone’s brother away for six years, but you had no problem doing that.”

“Fuck you, Bee. Seriously.” He spits the words before turning on his heel, and heading inside. You are once again left alone, outside, in the cold.

–

[toothlespoggers]

I got silly and infodumped again…

The fact that crystalised despite being the worst ninjago season by far- showed that for a long time now, possibly since season 11 has had his emotions turned off. Is crazy to me. Because I know Cole had a pretty okay moment with Zane about it and he ended up turning it back on in the same season or maybe even same episode I can’t fully recall. But I don’t know how mentally fucked these characters are or what- but I feel like no one stopped to think about that for enough time. Like Cole, he’s a very caring, affectionate, empathetic guy. Yet even he didn’t really seem to register the implications this had for Zane’s mental health. Zane is filled with so much emotional turmoil that he physically couldn’t bear to feel anymore. And this group of traumatised young adults were like- “oh haha Zane, that’s so quirky, that’s so silly of you, haha relatable anyway-“ Like duuuude I don’t know if this is the writers wanting to avoid actually discussing mental health in a “children’s” show or if these characters have had such little emotional awareness and support through their lives, almost dying everyday since they were teenagers that they are so desensitised to the horrors tm that they literally cannot tell when someone is basically holding a sign over their head saying “I NEED SERIOUS HELP.”

That kinda says a lot about Sensei wu, doesn’t it? I mean he’s great we Stan- but he did kinda adopt a bunch of struggling teenagers and burden them with saving the world and then allowed them to put themselves in harms way for years, without ever sitting them down and asking them if they were okay, emotionally? Like I don’t know if this happened and I didn’t see it or if it was implied to happen off screen but I really doubt wu was any sort of a support system for these guys that treated him like a father figure.  

Maybe it’s because this cycle of pain goes back to wu as well, because he’s not the most stable person in the world either, but idk it feels crazy to me that these people that were basically family. Just- never checked in on eachothers well being or looked out for each others mental issues.

I mean they never really got a break and when they did- hell the only reason season 11 happened was because wu, so obsessed with the ninja being in tip top condition urged them to do something, which led these idiots to unleashing Aspheera and then ended up with probably the worst fate you could wish upon a Lego, for Zane. Seriously the fact they turned the ice emperor thing into a joke is so tone deaf to me like if this happened to your friend. In real life, (just suspend disbelief for a second) you would be absolutely GUTTED. You’d probably feel SO BAD. And that person? Probably can’t function like a normal individual anymore. Probably needs serious therapy.  Not a joke.

I don’t hate wu, I never did. But I just think he’s been very irresponsible with the way he’s handled his students and while he’s wise in some aspects 70% of problems in the show could’ve been avoided if this old man valued communication.

And if this isn’t based on the characters flaws. And it’s Lego refusing to discuss mental illness and mental health. COME ON LEGO IT WOULD EDUCATE YOUR YOUNG AUDIENCE ON PTSD, ANXIETY AND HOW TO HEALTHILY DEAL WITH YOUR PROBLEMS. Because right now, if you wanna deal with issues the ninja way, YOU BURY THEM AND TAKE THEM TO THE GRAVE AND YOU NEVER COMPLAIN OR REST.

All I want is at least one episode where it’s not all about the current bad guy or plot and it’s just about the ninja actually confiding in one another and trying to help their friends out. Maybe Zane or Lloyd finally snap and have a full mental breakdown and the only way to deal with it is for them to actually talk about it and work it out. I’m sure you can make a compelling episode with that in mind. They’ve tried to address mental health in the show with Lloyds anxiety arc thing in DR they need to do better.

We need a scene in DR where Zane and Frohicky are at the monastery while the other ninja are doing stuff, (maybe I’ll work out the details more and write something on this) and something happens where all the pain and trauma and just, awfulness just builds up in Zane’s mind and he just. Has a moment where he cracks. And he stops working on whatever he’s working on. And Frohicky notices the shift in the air and suddenly his entire demeanour changes and he comes over concerned and Zane is standing there or kneeling and Frohicky puts his hand on his shoulder and asks. “Are you okay?” And Zane just doesn’t know how to respond. He tries to shake everything off but he can’t, he’s never been asked that before. And Frohicky starts babbling on trying to help him and offers to get him set up so he can rest, and Zane doesn’t have the strength to object or the will to say anything and he’s just like.

“I.. don’t know.” In a final response to the previous question. 

And it’s just a scene where Zane accepts Frohickys gesture of kindness. And while not everything is fixed obviously. You can slowly see the tension leaving him.

Because it matters if someone asks you if you’re okay. It reaches into the darkest place and offers a hand saying “I’ll listen.” And that could genuinely change someone’s life.

[ketso]

Episode 41

Senzi and I are in KZN today. My dad and his wife, Siyanda, are doing some ritual. My dad tried to explain it to me, but shame, I still have no idea. Senzi and I drove down with Khanya and Khosini. Khanya sat in the front with Senzi. I’m the lucky one who was at the back with grumpy Khosini. I worry about this boy’s anger. You can’t be angry about Nathi not being married to your mother. You can’t. It’s good for your mother when Nathi is not with her. He’s quite… not the husband you’d wish upon your worst enemy. I don’t even know how his young thang of a wife is managing him. Maybe she’s young enough to be played by him, asazi. Or maybe she was taught all that hostile crap that adults will tell you is the secret to long lasting marriage:

- indoda ayibuzwa

- You give him sex no matter what

- You call him baba, not by name

- He is your master

All that crap. But she’s such a nice chick. I once took her shopping then we did lunch together. I get the feeling that she doesn’t have friends. I feel like I’m her g. We are very close in age. She’s only about five years older than me. My dad likes it… or appreciates it, angazi. But hey, both my parents seem happy. So I’m happy.

The old people here… I love them. They are honestly treating me like I’m disabled. I’m just told to sit and do nothing. I just peel and chop vegetables by the area where everyone is working. I get to listen to the gossip and let me tell you….!!!! Village gossip! Yoh!

So apparently…

There’s a mama here who has multiple kids by different men… basically, fruit salad situation. Now, she slept with some other woman’s husband and she got so mad, she started going door to door to every other woman in the village whose husband has fathered this woman’s children, and told them that their husbands are this woman’s baby daddies. Now these women took hot water and whips to deal with this woman at her house. Moghel phoned the popo. The women in this kitchen, telling this story, cannot believe moghel’s audacity to phone the police when she’s the one who’s been the village bicycle. When I raised, deep in laughter by the way, that being a whore is not a crime, but assault with intent to cause grievous bodily harm is, they threw a whole “YHHHHUUUUUU!!!!! INI?!”

I was so dead with laughter.

Now, those mamas burned her house down. And the commentary to that is that she must see what she does with her fruit salad, but she will be fine. People like her do very well in Johannesburg. Weh!

I learned that my dad’s wife is not liked very much around here. She’s not even here sitting with us. But these women didn’t like Mam’Thandeka neither, so I know that you don’t have to be much for them to not like you. It’s really not difficult to be hated by them. I like my gogo, though. Love her, actually. She’s always been on my side. Even when Mam’Thandeka and my dad didn’t want me, she was always there and she made sure that I landed okay. She’s happy for me that my mother and I are building. But I’ll never forget about her. I know my dad still looks after her, but I also do my bit to make sure that she’s comfortable. Sometimes, my dad will phone me and we laugh about how we are gogo’s ATMs. But he appreciates it. I don’t hate my dad. Sometimes, I feel like he thinks that I hate him. But I don’t. I actually understand him more than he thinks.

“Wandisa, are you busy?” My gogo says to me. I don’t even know where she’s been. I’ve just been with these gogos listening to their gossip.

“I’m just chopping and peeling veggies.”

“Hai, ziyeke. Woza.” She says.

I put the tray aside then follow her to wherever she’s taking me to.

I notice Khanya and Senzi chilling together. Shame, they’ve been working. They even bought those PEP blue overalls. They look like hard labourers. Khosini is on his phone… in white sneakers even. You can just tell that he’s done nothing all day.

“Yin’ inkinga yakhe lo?” Gogo asks me… about Khanyisa.

“Nami angazi, gogo. He’s been like this since the divorce kababa noMam’Thandeka.” I say.

“Hai bo! Namanje?! Why wasn’t he sour when his mother went to have another child with another man while she was still married?”

That’s a very good question. But I’ve never asked him that.

“Lalela ntombi, I was just missing you. I wanted us to just catch up.” She says as we sit in the rondel that Senzi and I are sleeping in.

“Okay. Is everything okay?” I ask her.

We lie down on the bed.

“Everything is fine. What do you think of Siyanda?”

Okay, we are here to gossip.

“I don’t know enough about her to really have an opinion. I just know the facts… she’s young and she’s usually bored. So I usually take her shopping with me or take her out for lunch… things like that. She doesn’t have a job. She’s always waiting on dad and we both know that’s not good for the heart.” I say.

We both laugh.

“We took lobola out for her because her parents needed it for their leadership”, she tells me.

I zoom in and engage her.

“But mina shame, I don’t like her for my son.”

“Why?” I enquire.

“Nkosinathi is a divorcee with three kids. We all know that his marriage to Thandeka had way too many challenges. Uphilile uNkosinathi. This girl shame… ingane! UNkosinathi aqinele uThandeka kangaka - who’s closer to being his age mate than what Siyanda is, uzomenzani lo mmtwana wabantu?”

I get what she means. My dad is a dribbler! He will dribble ubukleva out of anyone. I don’t know how my mom survived. Maybe I need the full story of that situation.

Actually, I don’t want to know.

Gogo continues, “UNkosinathi just needs a woman who - like him - is done having children and being taken by things like marriage. We’ve established that he will never be chief, so there’s no pressure for him to be married anymore. Makazitholele umuntu nje azohlekisana naye ngoba vele he is a man and he needs ways to release… but not someone who still has stars in her eyes, hopes to start a family and wears marriage with a pride and honour as if it’s the best thing that could happen to her. Khona manje she doesn’t have anything going for her except this marriage. And mina UNkosinathi told me that he doesn’t want anymore children. He even had a vasectomy.”

“Hai bo! A whole vasectomy?!” Im actually shocked.

“Yebo! Do we really need more children from Nkosinathi right now, kodwa Wandi? You are about to make him a grandfather. Even Khanya nje… he could just pop up and tell us that umithisile. Hai Wandisa!”

“Manje unkosikazi wakhe is aware of this?” I enquire.

“That’s why we are here today, ntombi!”

“Huh?”

“Le ngane le, ithi ikhulelwe.”

Isigaxa!

“Nkosinathi brought her here saying they’ve come for a ritual so that kuzohlangana umndeni so she can tell us where that baby comes from.”

“Hai bo, gogo. Manje thina sizofunani la?”

“You are old now, Wandi. You must be here for such conversations.”

“Gogo, I don’t want to be on a deciding committee regarding my dad’s marriage or sex life. Hai bo!”

She laughs.

This is so uncomfortable. Wait til I tell Senzi about this. But then it hits me…

“Gogo…”

“Yebo sthandwa sami?”

“I think you should go into this meeting with an open mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t get there and attack this poor lady. Phela she left her parents’ house understanding that uzokhulisa umndeni wakwaButhelezi. She gets here, no one tells her that her husband had a vasectomy. Yena nje uyamangala ukuthi akamithi. She probably had herself checked out wathola ukuthi she’s not the one with the issue. It’s possible that she went to elders and they helped with the situation… you know… ngesintu.”

“Hai Wandisa. I would have been consulted. Nathi is my son.”

“Gogo… this is the Buthelezi family. When has anyone ever followed the rules or processes? I think before you call this poor lady in and ask her to start detailing the activities of her vagina, hlalani phansi nabantu abadala and make sure that no elder is responsible for this.”

“Yabona wena! That’s why we need you in such meetings. Uhlakaniphile and you have a way of viewing things differently. Let me go and talk to Nkosinathi and the elders. Shup.”

She gets up and jogs out of the rondavel.

Weh!

Ja neh!

…

Senzi and I are chilling outside by the fire with Khanya. Khanya and Senzi created this fire with inkuni and I don’t know what else. But it’s warm. There is rather cold weather tonight. It also seems like it’s going to rain soon. I have my feet up on Senzi’s lap. Khanya put pillows to support my back. He’s so sweet shame, impinch yami.

“Ek se… owani lo msebenzi?” Khanya asks me.

I start giggling.

“Ugogo ukusikele indaba? Iza nazo phela”, Khanya and news… amathe nolimi.

“There’s no msebenzi.” I say.

They both look at me as if I’m high.

“Do you know what we have been doing all day for you to be telling us that crap?” He is getting upset. Senzi is just interested in what I have to say.

“Kuthiwa umam’ncane wethu is pregnant.” I say.

“Manje all this drama to tell us that we are about to have another sibling?” Khanya.

“This is where it gets better… ubaba doesn’t want another child.” I say.

“He didn’t think about that before agibela le ngane yabantu?” Khanya.

“Here’s the best part… ubaba had a vasectomy.” Me.

“Get the hell out of here!” Senzi.

Khanya is just shocked.

I nod my head.

“So someone went in and chowed on dad’s plate? Uyabona mara that I should’ve just tapped?” Khanya.

“Khanya, you need to stop these ‘sleep with dad’s wife’ jokes… it’s becoming less and less funny hey.” Me.

“Manje? What’s going to happen?” Senzi.

“They had initially called her here to explain where her baby comes from.” I say.

“So why aren’t we in that meeting? I mean, we came here for something, right? I want the answer to that question.” Khanya.

“Hai wena! Besides, I told ugogo that they must be careful. There could be an element of them being unfair la.” Me.

“Kanjani? She cheated.” Khanya.

“Ja. But a girl like that comes to marry Nkosinathi Buthelezi with the intention to ukukhulisa umndeni. The next thing, she’s not getting pregnant and her husband didn’t inform her that he doesn’t want anymore kids… that he had surgery to ensure it never happens. She probably reached out to an elder and someone was organised for her… you know… ngesintu.” I say.

“So what does this mean? Divorce or?” Senzi.

“Ey, I don’t know. It’s just… we all saw what happened with Tholoana.” I say.

“True. Dad is not going to stick around for this.” Khanya.

“Where’s Khosini?” I ask them.

“Probably banging himself somewhere”, what’s wrong with Khanya? That’s not even funny. Hai bo.

“Is he still upset about the divorce?” Senzi asks him.

“Yeah. He needs to grow up.”

“Khanya, uzoxola kodwa? At any point nje?” I ask him.

“He doesn’t seem to want to. I told him he must find a girlfriend because uyadina. Maybe when he has one, he will stop being so selfish.” He says.

“I worry about him. Honestly.” I say.

“You know that he told me that if Tholoana were never born, our parents would still be together. Who the hell says that? Our parents were having issues way before Tholoana happened. And dad wasn’t perfect. Mom wasn’t perfect. Their marriage wasn’t perfect.” I say.

“And it’s not like he was a child. He saw all of these things. How selfish is he to expect them to stay together despite all the crap that we witnessed in that house?” Khanya.

“Have you guys considered taking him to therapy? Maybe he is just not processing this the way that the two of you have”, Senzi.

“Do you think it’s necessary though? I mean… we all go through stuff. And he’s not the only one who’s going through this. And if we were to start talking about what Wandi went through, you’ll realise that he’s just being spoiled.” Khanya.

“I hear you. But people are just not built the same way. You guys are just more tough than he is. And to be fair, the two of you have each other. Maybe he feels as if he’s not part of your duo you know? So maybe he feels alone.” Senzi.

“But he isolates himself. We include him all the time, but he does what he did today. He puts his headsets on then leaves us alone. What more can we do?” Khanya.

Senzi looks at me.

I shrug my shoulders.

“Chat to your dad or your mom about him possibly talking to someone. We don’t want a Luhle on our hands.”

We all laugh.

I’ve told Khanya about Luhle. He knows the reference very well.

Tamia and Ntuthuko seem to be settling in quite well in their new house with their four kids. Tamia is definitely a better person than most people… to just take in four children like that? No questions asked? Ntuthuko better worship the ground that she walks on for this. In fact, our whole family should. My dad told me that MaNdlovu has been meeting up with the baby mamas and their families. They are facing an entire lawsuit, and MaNdlovu is basically forcing my father to pay for legal assistance for them. My dad won’t do it. I encouraged him not to do that. I told him that if he listens to MaNdlovu, I will personally hold him accountable for the breakdown of Ntuthuko’s and Tamia’s marriage. This family cannot and should not come across as if they don’t rate Tamia… not after what she has sacrificed to make sure that Ntuthuko’s kids are good and not after she gave up her life for Ntuthuko - particularly in such a short space of time. Also, Ntuthuko loves Tamia. I know that means nothing to MaNdlovu. But what my father and everyone else needs to understand is that they may want to teach Tamia a lesson - whatever the lesson is- but they will end up hurting Ntuthuko. That’s his woman and they need to respect that. Personally, my thoughts on the situation is that the baby mamas are insane. They don’t deserve Tamia’s kindness. Who takes their child and just shoves the child onto another woman? A woman they’ve never met before? They don’t even know if she’s crazy or what…? And for what? To prove a point? To demand more money from their baby daddy? Those women don’t deserve to be parents and if any legal person asks me my thoughts, I’ll happily tell them that those mothers are not good parents. They are actually disgusting. All this for money? If they felt that the money that they were receiving from Ntuthuko is too little, why don’t they find jobs and play their parts is raising and supporting their own children? Why is the entire financial burden on one parent? In my view, they come across as people who got pregnant on purpose just to receive a pay for it. They identified a man who would pay for their lifestyles without asking questions - as long as they mention his kids in it - then they got pregnant. Now that their plan is no linger working, #MenAreTrash. Sies!

I don’t understand what MaNdlovu is seeing in them that is making her pro-them and anti-Tamia: the better woman in all of this. She even tried to involve me in this shit. When I told her what my thoughts were in the matter, she stopped speaking to me. And you know what, I’m actually okay with that. I don’t agree with her ways of thinking anyway.

“And then?” Wandi says to me. She’s just finished showering. Her baby-bump is beginning to show and she’s so beautiful.

“Hello, my love.”

“What are you thinking about? Kunini ngikhuluma nawe? Kanti you are deep in thought… you are even ignoring me.” She says.

“Sorry baby. I’m just thinking…”

“About?”

“Tamia and Ntuthuko.”

“What about them?”

“This issue with Ntuthuko’s baby-mamas… and MaNdlovu’s approach to it. Tamia could just leave him. I don’t trust MaNdlovu.” I say.

“Baby, there’s nothing that we can do. MaNdlovu is going to do whatever that she wants to do.”

“But how will we look if we don’t even try to stop her?”

“Hai bo! We also have our own shit to deal with. We still have to focus on our move to the kingdom. You are starting a new airline. You’ve resigned from your old job. We have a child on the way. Where do we have a place to be stressing about other people’s issues? Tamia knew that Ntuthuko has had four children from four different and crazy women before she married him. He was very honest with her about that before they even slept together. Surely, she’s not sitting in her house expecting a normal life with a normal co-parenting agreement. Ntuthuko has been a meal ticket for these four crazy women since their kids were born. There will be resistance in the event that the gravy train stops.”

“And I’m sure that’s what she’s prepared to deal with. How do we explain the family helping the crazy people be more crazy? MaNdlovu wants meetings and she wants my dad and I to pay for legal assistance for these women.”

“You already said no. Your dad has said no. Everything else is in Ntuthuko’s hands to protect his wife from that crazy women. This is not going to be a group project. Senzi, I’m pregnant. I just want to be in a house where I can just sleep or wake up to just watch movies the whole day, not worrying about shit. Please! Tamia is Ntuthuko’s wife and he worries enough about her. The baby and I need you. Please.”

I look at her.

I open my arms.

She comes to sit on top of me.

“I’m sorry. I’m all yours”, I say to her, kissing her.

“Thank you”, she says, kissing me back.

I rub her stomach…

And her thighs…

She starts laughing.

I smile at her.

“So,I’ve found a house for us.” She says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Let me show you.” She says, getting off my lap and getting her iPad out of her handbag.

She sits on top of me again and she shows me pictures of this house that she found.

It’s a nice house. It’s a five bedroom and four and a half bathrooms. It’s in a stunning estate. It has a garden, a swimming pool, domestic worker quarters, and a a garage that fits four cars.

“I actually really like it”, I say.

“Neh? And we can actually stay there for years. It’s big enough for us and any other people that we will be bringing into the world.” She says.

“Can we afford it?” I ask her.

“Yep. With the sale that we made from my businesses, we can afford to buy it cash, buy furniture and still have enough to live for about a year.” She says.

I nod my head then I say, “I hear you. I’m also thinking that until the business takes off, I’m going to continue to work.”

“Hawu! What happened to focusing on the business?”

“I have a family. I have a beautiful wife that I need to take care of and I have a baby on the way. I cannot afford to be unemployed right now.”

“But babe, the money that -

“I know, baby. I know. But I’m not going to be okay with living off of you while I chase my pipe dream. If I can do both,I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

“That means I’ll have less time with you. Senzi, you are always flying and when you fly, I sometimes don’t see you for two weeks. Then the little bit of time that I will have with you, you’ll be busy building a business. That means that I’ll be going through this pregnancy alone. Even when the baby is here,I’ll be alone most of the time.”

I look at her.

“Wandi, we have responsibilities and we have a certain standard of living that we want to live by.” I tell her.

“It’s not worth it, Senzi. I’d rather live in a shoe box that I lived in at Thebe’s back rooms, than have everything and not you around to live with me… raise our child with me. Hai ngeke.”

She even gets off my lap.

“What if I just work domestic flights? That way, I’ll be home everyday. I’m literally flying from one province to another. I’ll work everyday, but I’ll be home everyday at least.”

“And the business?”

“I’ll still work on it. Starting an airline is not easy. It could take up to year… or longer. I can’t be without an income for that long. I also don’t want you to go back to work unless you are ready to do so.”

She’s quiet.

She’s thinking about it.

“Wandi, I’ll be here for you and the baby. Always. I’d never make you a single mother. But I have to provide, baby. Please let me.”

…

This morning, we are to Tholoana Kingdom from KZN. Khanya and Khosini drove back with their father. We will be living with my dad and his wife while we wait for our house to be ready. Our house in Boksburg has also been sold, so our stuff is in storage in Tholoana Kingdom. I start my we job tomorrow. I work for Tholoana Kingdom Airways. My dad pulled some strings and I’m in… as one of the head pilots even. I wasn’t even that when I was operating in South Africa. I’m excited and happy to be benefit from my dad’s influence. With the salary that I will be making - triple what I made from the job I’ve just resigned from - Wandi can be a housewife for the rest of our lives. I showed my offer letter to Wandi and her eyes were in utter disbelief. She even started scouting an interior design to do something in our house and design the baby’s nursery. I shall not complain.

“I’m hoping we have a baby girl”, she says. I’m driving.

The plan was that she would drive the Golf 7 and I’d drive the Maserati. Then she decided that I’m rich now, so we can afford to have the Golf 7 and the Polo shipped to the Kingdom then we can drive together.

Like I said, I shall not complain.

“Why a girl specifically?” I ask her.

“So that she can help me spend all your money. Phela if we don’t spend it, you’ll find gold-digging and home wrecking whores who will spend it on our behalf.”

I actually laugh.

“Baby, do you really think that I’d cheat on you?” I ask her.

“I don’t know, baby. Things happen. Whores are always readily available to cheat with you. Some go to the extent of using witchcraft to getting you because they don’t necessarily want someone like you… they want you!”

“But baby I’m yours… I’m all yours. I don’t even think about cheating on you.”

“I don’t think people intend or plan to cheat… they just themselves find themselves within the act without really knowing how they got there. Then I’d be expected to understand, then forgive you… or divorce you and become a bitter ex who also happens to be the mother of your child.”

“Wandisa, Ngiyakuthanda. Kakhulu futhi. Nothing and no one is going to change that. I know that my kind of sex or gender don’t give us much credit in this faithful thing… but you are my wife… and I love you so much. Believe in me. Believe in us. Believe in what we are building. Believe in our family.”

She nods her head.

I kiss her hand.

…

It turns out that the father of Siyanda’s child is some elder in the Buthelezi family… the chief to be exact. Now Wandi’s dad wants a divorce. He’s not even interested in finding out if it was arranged for his benefit or if they are actually having an affair. I mean… in his view anyway… why would a chief be tasked with something like that?

Khanya thinks he should’ve been the one to tap. Wandi still thinks that it’s a joke. I’m not so trusting anymore. I actually believe that he means it. He has the strangest and most uncomfortable crush on his father’s wife… it’s not okay. It’s really not.

Khosini supports the divorce. Then he suggested that maybe his parents should fix things. I actually have no comment on Khosini and his deliberate will to not accept that his parents are done. They are so done that even his mother is planning to re-marry. But we will let him live in hope. Wandi is just worried about the dad. She says for a man who’s never out of options when it comes to women, it seems like he will end up alone in the long run … or in the state that we found her mother’s father in. I guess only time will tell how this one ends.

[seafoamschute]

Hey Adrian!

Since your perpetual victim complex never seems to relent long enough for you to approach your problems like an adult rather than an angsty subtweeting teen, I figured I’d throw my two cents into the ring.

Where to even begin really? Let’s start with you accusing us of being bad friends for not reading your call out. I for one, when it was mentioned by you initially did not read it because I respected you and your privacy. I respected that when you said “I was in an abusive relationship and enabled his behavior” that that was all it was. I didn’t want to dig at it, and subsequently violate your privacy and ability to tell me your own story. However, when you started being a total weirdo to everyone (specifically Weiss, which I’m sure you’d hate to have me dive into), a friend of ours who does not speak to you often mentioned that it overlapped with previous behavior. Naturally we became curious.

Imagine our shock when we discovered you had lied. That you hadn’t just been enabling an abusive partner, that you yourself had been speaking inappropriately to children. That you had been participating in the grooming of said children, and that you were called out for it only a few months before coming into our lives.

You can rattle on and on and on about what happened to you all you want. The truth is, I don’t give a shit in this context. I empathize with you, of course. What happened to you is unacceptable, im sorry you were subject to such, but as much as you want it to it doesn’t excuse the fact YOU spoke inappropriately to children. YOU did that. YOU. You engaged in the behavior yourself. You are an autonomous actor, and you are responsible for said actions. Your trauma an experiences can explain the headspace you were in, but they are not excuses. You’re not the only one who’s been through shit, as much as you like to pretend you are and center yourself in every single conversation, rather than take even a crumb of accountability for your behavior.

I have been beaten, assaulted, held at gun point, dealt with perpetual suicide baiters alike, etc etc. we could be here all fucking week. Me personally though? I’ve never talked about my sex life or tried to meet up with kids. That’s all you buddy. You did that. You can kick and scream “poor pitiful me” all you want, but you have to take accountability for the actions you made as a grown ass person.

Let’s talk about accountability a bit more, while we’re at it. Our friendship ended with you because after being a creep, you were politely confronted about this behavior by the person in question. What did you do? You sat there and degraded her, calling her names, questioning her intelligence, and gaslighting her for feeling the way she did about the gross comments you made toward her.

Every-time you are confronted with something, you treat people like shit. When that doesn’t work, you self victimized. You sit there and wallow in your self pity and pretend you’ve changed and that you’re sorry, but aren’t actually willing to grow from the experience or bare the consequences for the things you’ve done. None of the people you mentioned sent your call out around. I know who did it, actually, because when we all started talking confused as hell by you accusing us of such, someone stepped up to the plate. But you know what? Even if we had, we would have every right. You integrated yourself into the lives of a bunch of freshly 18 year olds only a couple months after being caught creeping on kids. We had no idea, and frankly I would have never engaged with you had I known.

In fact, you may not have noticed, but at some point toward the latter half of our friendship I avoided you like the plague. Why? Maybe because you creeped on our friend who you are over half a decade older then. When your advances toward him were turned down, you became nasty. You berated him and bullied him any chance you got, to the point EVERYONE noticed it and he had to explain what had happened. When you were confronted, you did what you always do and made yourself out to be the victim. Self flagellating and pitying yourself. Doesn’t really sound like the behavior of someone who’s changed.

Adrian, you are the problem. Not everyone else but you is the problem. You are incapable of spending a second that isn’t about you. I know you seem to think you give and give and give but you don’t. You whine and bitch and moan about how bad everything is for you. You turn every casual conversation into an opportunity for you to trauma dump. You turn every serious conversation where someone is going through something into one where you can talk about yourself. You use any mere modicum of a negative emotion you have ever experienced to try and excuse yourself from the hurt you’ve cause others. You do not take accountability. You say you do, and then you guilt trip everyone around you until they feel so sorry for you, they relent and just let you continue to trample them.

There’s a phrase to describe that kind of behavior, emotional manipulation. Another example of such is how you asked Rose if she wanted to be friends again, and when she didn’t respond immediately to you because she had to consider whether it was worth patching things up with you after you berated and bullied her you made this goo goo gah gah “poor pitiful me” post when you failed to mention the thing you were getting called on was grooming. Keep self victimizing and joker posting on your tumblr, you’re only making this worse for yourself. We had all moved on. We weren’t talking about you. None of us ever sent your call out around, because unlike you I don’t want everyone who minority inconveniences me to suffer.

Speaking of which, I think it’s fucking crazy you felt the need to bring ghost into this, someone who DIDNT EVEN SPEAK TO YOU when the whole confrontation went down. Why? Probably because you’re still a bitter freak that he didn’t want to date you. You are constantly just stroking some weird hate boner for him and it’s absolutely insane.

You were a creep and a bully. You refused to communicate when confronted. You refused to take accountability, opting to self victimize. You kept trying to worm yourself back into the lives of the people you hurt, and when they didn’t do so on your time, you go and try to publicly shame them for not wanting to hang out with a dude who talks about sucking and fucking to kids. Grow the fuck up and get a better therapist.

Here’s the callout btw! I didn’t share it before but I’m not above a self fulfilling prophecy. Fuck you!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1i3zeizYSiR6fCax2K7kWvWjq02yTZ-WFF3gX5kLa9FA/edit

In regards to past actions

I’d like to start with a hello to people who have just blindly accepted my character without even reaching out to me. I don’t blame you but I am disappointed. I hope that this explanation can get you to better understand the person I am now.

TW: abuse, weird sex stuff, etc etc idk what to write

Some ex friends have decided to resurface issues that have been resolved and occurred over 4 years ago.

I showed them a callout i was involved in because i trusted that they would understand I am no longer that person. The only reason they have decided to bring this back to life is because of personal, completely unrelated petty issues.

I am not PROUD of who I was, I do not CONDONE my previous behavior.

I feel as though the only way to properly clear my name to some degree is to talk about the relationship i was in at the time. Because of course my “friends” didn’t bother to listen when I told them the first time.

I met my ex back in 2016 right after I had returned from a crisis center, I was alone. I met him very soon after and he showered me in love and affection. I was desperate for any of that attention. I was lovebombed to shit and, as a desperate loser, clung onto that for dear life. I did things I’m not proud of.

He was friends with a bunch of minors at the time, to which I felt a bit weirded out by. He “explained” that it was because of the community he was in. Like an idiot I simply agreed and didn’t ask or pry further. He would beg me to hang out with him and his friends and I would reluctantly at first, then leave afterwards. He kept bugging me until i agreed to join a gc with them all.

He kept asking me for sexual favors, ones that would get worse and more extreme as time went on. Any time i would decline, it would have him spiral into breakdowns and suicide attempts. He would have episodes and traumadump unrelated things to me and when I would cry and grieve for him, I was met with anger for it. I had to force myself to not feel anything when he would tell me all of these horrible things.

On more than one occasion did he beg me to go out and find people to have sex with so I could be better at pleasing him. I complied both times. it never went anywhere because he would regret it immediately.

He also loved material goods, and would use my kindness to get things he wanted. If i didnt, guess what? yep depressive episode followed by suicide attempts! I had spent thousands of dollars just for him, just so he could be happy. I never demanded to be repaid, because “[his] love/happiness was more than enough”

Now take that, and repeat it for about 3 and a half years straight.

Towards the end of the relationship, he despised me so much I would have to essentially RP with him to get him to talk to me. Mind you all of this is just the tip of the iceberg of abuse i endured.

At the end of it all, I chose him, which resulted in me being excommunicated from my only friends, who then went on to harass me for another 2 years because I was willing to take accountability and do what i could to move forward.

why am i writing all this? why does it matter?

because im giving you fucking context. Sorry I was so preoccupied with keeping the person i genuinely believed was my soulmate from drinking bleach or hanging himself.

oh but you were xx yrs old you should have known better! yeah, hindsight is 20/20. Ive never been a super social person, and wanting to fit in made more sense to me than not.

if you read all of this, thank you. a special thanks to the following people for being fucking horrible friends: Kain @/necrocrunk, Ghost @ bugsquish.

you all can go fuck yourselves!

[frazzleboop]

Brrrp?

I got inspired by a conversation with @moonscockwarmer on Twitter for this~ I hope you enjoy this lil drabble!

Pairing: Moondrop x Reader

Words: 1,290

You almost can’t believe your eyes. It had taken months—literal months—to get to where you were now. The silence that stretches between you and your companion is comfortable, and even that is a blessing compared to how he had treated you when you’d first met. Not that you could blame Moon, not really. He was programmed to look after kids, after all; he didn’t have to be personable to the adults if it didn’t suit him, and that was fine. You’d been fine with that… for a little while anyway.

You’d tried not to take it to heart when your first impression of one another had gone a bit… skewed.

Your first day, Sunny had taken to you like a fish to water. You felt immediately welcomed by the lovable goof; his energy and enthusiasm for play were infectious, as was the giant grin that always had you smiling back at his antics. It wouldn’t be long after that he would follow you around much like that of a lovestruck puppy. He really was the epitome of an energetic golden retriever, always eager for compliments and attention. And Moon…?

Well, let’s just say Moon was more like… a cat. A feral stray cat with a perpetual stick up his ass, but a cat nonetheless. If his general aloofness and grace when he walked or floated about on that wire of his weren’t enough to convince you, there was the little fact that upon meeting you during your first glimpse at the scheduled naptime, he’d fucking hissed at you.

You’d gotten a pretty good look at those glowing red eyes of his and the razor sharp teeth that you were convinced couldn’t possibly be standard design for a Daycare Attendant of all things. You’d recoiled; he’d arched his entire body away from you as he glared and softly hissed at you from between those pointy gnashers, then skittered off somewhere into the dark, presumably to return to watching the children (and maybe you, as you swore you felt that piercing gaze following you for the entire rest of the hour until lights-on).

You hadn’t been sure what to make of that. And when you’d brought it up to Sunny, he’d laughed nervously, waving a dismissive hand at you and chiding, “Oh, that Moony! Don’t worry your pretty head over it. He’ll come around to you, eventually. Trust me!”

With those words in mind, you were determined to change his perspective of you. Maybe even have a little conversation. You were nothing if not stubborn. You didn’t care how long it took; Moon would be your friend. You were determined.

Thus began a long and often grueling slog of attempting to break through to the naptime attendant who had made it his one objective in life to avoid you like the plague. Often, you would find him staring at you from across the daycare, perched atop one of the play structures, the only hint that he was watching you watch him being the pinpricks of red light glowing menacingly in the dark. One or twice, you even think you’d heard a growl, but you couldn’t ever be certain.

It took a while before you built up the courage to approach from behind the security desk, and when you did, he would scuttle or fly clear across the daycare, leaving you huffing quietly to yourself as he found a new roost to glare at you from. You’d decided to switch to a different tactic. If he could pretend to hate you so vehemently (and Sunny was adamant that no, Moon did not hate you, he was just shy), you could feign indifference.

Months of patience. Of sitting still as a statue in the dark playroom, minding your own business, listening to the gentle tinkling of the lullaby that he played to help the children drift off easier. Each time, you swore you saw him creep just that tiny bit closer. The hissing had stopped, and while he still glared from time to time, when you caught his gaze, he would turn his away and back to the children. You would smile to yourself because sure enough, the moment you returned to whatever it was that was keeping your attention, his focus would slowly shift back to you.

Closer and closer. Companionable silence. He didn’t shrink back when you looked at him. In fact, he often seemed to doze off a bit himself, particularly if the children were quiet and there was nothing to do. The fact that he was comfortable around you enough to close his eyes in your presence spoke volumes and made you want to cry in joy.

The two of you lean back against the soft foam half-wall encircling the naptime area, sitting criss-cross applesauce and simply basking in the gentle lull of the music box and the soft whirring and clicking of Moon’s internal mechanisms that just reminds you of a big cat purring. He sits so close to you now, the tiniest contact of your knee and his, your elbow and his; barely there, but you figure he wouldn’t be touching you at all if he didn’t choose to be so close. This was progress, and you were so afraid to ruin the moment by speaking up now—

Moon shifts briefly, his head swiveling slightly from one side and then—

Bonk. The side of his metal and silicone faceplate makes contact with the side of your temple—not hard at all, just a subtle tap that grabs your attention abruptly—a soft sound puncturing the silence as it escapes his voice box.

“Brrrrp?”

You freeze, startled and confused, and he seems to do the same. Slowly, oh so slowly, you turn your head to blink at him with wide eyes. “Did you just…?”

The tinkling of the music box cuts out and the only sound remaining seems to be the uptick of his gears and his cooling fans kicking on. His eyes blink open, he stares straight ahead, and you think you see a flush of color rising to his rounded cheeks—he blushes blue! A tremor seems to wrack his frame and he goes to pull away.

You don’t let him. With speed and reflexes you didn’t know you possessed until just now, your hand darts out and catches onto Moon’s wrist. His entire body rocks as he swerves to look at you, baring sharp teeth as another rumbling hiss escapes him and he looks like he’s ready to fight or flee. Maybe both.

Your heart is thudding so loudly in your chest that for a moment you feel it might burst, but you steel your nerves and reach out to him. You almost fear that he might try and bite you as his red eyes dart to the hand you are moving towards his face, but even he hesitates. You take the time to let go of his wrist and bring both hands up to cradle his face. His own hands twitch at his sides, unsure whether they want to push you away or not.

Slowly, gently, you bring his faceplate down towards you once more, leaning your head in, you carefully, deliberately press your forehead against his. His face is warm to the touch and a blue glow just seems to envelop you both. His eyes are glued to your face. You give him a little nuzzle. “I like you, too,” you finally admit in a hushed whisper.

Moon’s fingers twitch slightly before those long arms go to wrap around you, pulling you securely into his lap as he looms over you. Even so, his trembling only intensifies. He says nothing as he holds you so close, only letting that rumbling purr of his gears speak for him.

[prof-peach]

What would make a good ghost-type starter? My kid's about to turn ten and REALLY wants a Gastly. I think it's because the Ecruteak Gym Leader, Morty, and his Gengar are like, her childhood heroes. She says she even wants to be a ghost-type specialist. Honestly though, I'm kinda reluctant. I mean, you've heard the rumors about ghost-types and children, right?

Your concern as a parent is wholesome, and I can understand your reluctance to dishing out a ghost Pokemon without further investigation first, so let’s put some rumours to bed here.

The dex entries often depict ghost types and tricky, scary, wild and sometimes even dangerous, stealing children away, being living grudges, turning lost kids to Pokemon, and being overall hard to handle, often somewhat lacking in empathy even.

This is what a dex does, it’s built for kids, it’s information is out there to inspire kids to find intrigue in species that are overlooked. When your little, you make up stories, as a parent I’m sure you know, some of those stories your kids tell you seem actually terrifying, horrific, some kids love to indulge in the creepy, the unusual. It’s not to be feared, it’s to be celebrated. The dex is an exaggeration, a base for further learning, and often the gateway to kids wanting to know more. There is a fatal downside, their entries and statements about some species can be unnerving to a regular adult. We are fearful, we see this potentially spooky dangerous thing and of course we want to protect the family from that. But the info given is often a 1% (at most) chance occurrence.

Phantump? They aren’t born of lost kids in the woods. You ask any breeder worth their salt, and they’ll tell you they’ve seen those Pokemon hatch from eggs like everything else.

Drifloon, tries to steal kids apparently? Nah, they’re lighter than air, most of their movements just simply look that way, but it’s usually the wind pushing their bodies about. They’re actually very kind pokemon.

What else, oh, Banette. Born of a discarded toy with an eternal grudge? Haha nope. They aren’t all made that way, at all, many evolve to be perfectly happy healthy Pokemon with a lot of love for their trainers.

The dex focuses in on the unusual, the extraordinary, the facts that statistically will interest their target demographic most, and kids have way less fear than us. Look at yours. She’s been exposed to the same stuff you have, yet she’s not hesitant to want a ghost type, she’s not afraid, not learnt that fear yet, which is an incredibly good thing.

On the very unusual case where a ghost type is like their dex entry, it’s usually captured, aided, and rereleased in a secure location, away from those who could get hurt by it.

Ghost Pokemon do not hatch with a choice of body, a choice of type, or a set of rules to follow. Just like us, they learn and amble through their life trying to find satisfaction, friends, work, family, love and kindness, and to figure out how they fit in it all. They’re highly complex and empathetic Pokemon, often treated differently because of what they are, rather than who they are. When they find people and Pokemon who don’t treat them with hostility and unkindness, they will spend their life with them, they will give everything for them, protecting their loved ones with the ferocity other species can’t muster.

I for one think that as long as your kid knows what to expect, and is responsible and reliable in caring for a Pokemon, then perhaps it’s a good time to start looking. A ghastly is a perfectly fine starter, they have low care requirements, snacking occasionally, but feeding mostly from places of reflection or worship.

You know why ghost types always hang around graves? It’s how they feed. When people reflect, they produce a certain kind of energy, it is not something you can measure easily, or see, but a ghost Pokemon can sense it. They have learnt to live off the energy people expend reflecting, and the most common accessible place to get this for a ghost type, is graves. They also frequent places of worship, monuments beloved by locals, and buildings that once housed a lot of love. You can tell when an abandoned house had something truly terrible happen in it, not even the ghosts will feed there. The energy is bitter to them, and many don’t care for it.

To help your kid, set up a place within the house where you, your family, your other Pokemon, can go to reflect. Some people build this space around the telephone, or computer. When thinking of, or talking to distant loved ones, the same energy is produced, so at home the ghost type can snack and not run low on energy. It’s a nice modern day adaption that’s makes caring for ghost much easier thankfully. Spending 10-20 minutes every other day in the reflection zone will feed the ghost, but will not drain you or your kid. They do not eat up a lot from us, nothing we haven’t already expended.

Along with this, be aware that the ghost line can be somewhat nocturnal, so setting up a regular bedtime might be a little tricky, so that the Pokemon is accounted for, but also so the kids not out all night, that’s not safe at all. Sunset seems to be their peak active hour on average, long shadows mean they can jump around fast between dark patches, a trick ghost show off regularly.

If you are worried, try to make time to go out with your kid and their partner, to a park or maybe a more central street that’s well lit, so they can practice and be trainers in a safe environment. I can totally get not wanting them out in the dark alone, safety always comes first.

What else. She’ll probably have to start carrying an umbrella around. Ghastly aren’t too keen on suuuuper bright light, midday is not easy for them, but some do not want to sit in the pokeball while their trainer is up and awake, they want to play and be around them. An umbrella means they can get some shade no matter the time of day, and have some freedom to move about even in harsh sunlight. Too long in the sun will drain them of energy, and they’ll need to rest and sleep it off, recharge at the reflection station at home, or go spend an hour in a churchyard or something.

They eat most things and sleep anywhere, so there’s not a huge amount of specialist items to be bought for the home. Test different flavours on them, and try to find a ghastly that has a temperament that’ll get along with your whole family. You should definitely check out local adoption centres, they are in undated with ghost types this time of year. People hand them in for all sorts of reasons.

Little tip, if you bring Morty spicy baked goods, like chilli cheese bread or something, he’s more inclined to help you. He hangs out near the burnt tower a lot with his team, and takes trips to the local food festivals too, so if you notice an advert for one, see if you can catch the guy there. He’s reluctant to take on students, but if your kid turns up with a ghastly, and (from what I can assume) and overabundance of energy for Pokemon, plus a spicy treat, the guy melts a little and you can ask questions or request a little time for your kid to get some tips and tricks from a professional gym leader. I think it’d be interesting to investigate at the least, sounds like he’s the closest link between her and the Pokemon she so desperately loves. Plus how cool would that be for her? Gets to talk to her childhood hero. Kind of cool.

As a parent, I advise you get some cleanse tags too. There may be rooms you don’t want them entering, or items you don’t want them messing with (knives/power tools ect) , placing a cleanse tag on each wall, or on the items, will stop them interacting with them, so you can sit knowing things are safe for the Pokemon and your family.

In short, don’t knock the ghost types, they’re just as important, kind and loving as any other Pokemon. I’m not saying naughty troublesome ones don’t exist, but chances are you’ll find one that’s a great match for your family. Thank you for asking questions and not jumping to just get a Pokemon ASAP, you’d be surprised how few people do their homework before inviting in a new Pokemon to the home.

[akaashisupremacy]

A Little in Love

Summary: Having broken off your engagement for an arranged marriage with him, your relationship is in shreds. As you and Gojo begin as friends again, he wonders if he ever fell out of love for you. Has he?

Notes: Gojo Satoru is good-looking, all powerful and beyond good at his job. I’ve always wanted to explore something he struggles with

Gojo Satoru  x reader

Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version

Genre: ANGST AND PINING, exes to friends to ??, commitment issues lol (wc: 1.3k) tw: mention of blood, infedelity-ish

“Are you sure you’re not in love with them?”

That question wipes the smile off Gojo Satorou’s face.

Tonight’s dinner was unexpected. You ran into Shoko Ieri, Jujutsu Kaisen’s resident doctor and Gojo Satoru just as your work day ended. One thing led to another and the three of you ended up in a soba place not too far from Jujutsu Tech. When you excused yourself to use the washroom Ieri-san grabs the chance to ask the burning question on her mind.

“So what’s the answer? You’re awfully quiet.”

“We’re not engaged anymore. That ship has sailed.” he waves his hand dismissively.

Ieri rolls her eyes. All throughout dinner, Gojo was teasing you, offering you food, playing light pranks at you just like he was when you were teenagers. The way he looked at you was enough to tick any off about how he feels.

She retorts, “You can try again now that you’re adults. You’re allowed to make a go at a love match.”

Gojo’s relationship with you is…complicated. You two were arranged to be married when you were children, but had broken up as teenagers.

Gojo looks contemplative, his hands clasped together.

“I’ve thought about it.” he sighs, “And I think about it every time we meet, but—I don’t think I’m the type to commit and they need a commitment type. It’s not a match.” Ieri scowls on your behalf. 

During your time at Jujutsu Tech, he simultaneously wanted to give your relationship a shot but hated the restrictions set on him. In the end, it was all too much. Both of you begged your families to break off the engagement.

Your teenage years with him were confusing. Were you really in love or those feelings fabricated by the arranged marriage? If the marriage wasn’t a love match anyway, why did it hurt to see Gojo flirt with someone else?

Gojo remembered one of your early confrontations when you were 16 and he was 17. 

“It’s difficult to be engaged to you.” you expressed, exasperated. 

When you started school at Jujutsu Tech however, something changed. Gojo didn’t want to be seen around you. He was always flirting with others behind your back. You can’t even have a proper conversation with him alone. 

During your second year, you finally stood up to him. 

“No, it’s not.” he rolled his eyes, “You don’t even have to pretend that you like me.”

It worried you that he definitely couldn’t be faithful and it hurt you that he couldn’t even spare time to properly talk with you. 

You sighed and looked left and right. It’s had been ten minutes. You were still standing outside his dorm room and he has not intention of letting you in. 

“It’s not about that!” you exclaimed, annoyed, “I know you don’t like being engaged to me, which is fine—“

“It doesn’t sound fine,” he snorts, crossing his arms. He tries to drown the sound of your voice from the surrounding cicadas. 

“—if you weren’t such an asshole,” you continued, “But can you at least treat me with more respect. Everybody knows we’re engaged. Neither of us want to be in arranged marriage so all I’m begging you to do is to —“ 

He shrugs, “No promises.” 

He could see anger light beneath your eyes. Out of the darkness of the night, a silver flicker brushes by his side. You were seething, despite being barely illuminated by the light of the corridor bulbs. 

You had drawn out a dagger at him. You! His kind, patient fiancee. It happened so fast he almost didn’t dodge. 

“I missed on purpose. Don’t you get complacent.” you muttered, turning away. 

Gojo was surprised to see tears running down your face. You’ve never looked so upset. It catches him off guard. 

“I’m sorry,” was all he had to utter. He wasn’t even sure you heard him because you had already begun walking away. You had drawn the blade, but in reality it was you that was hurting and he the trespasser. 

He shakes his head at Ieri and continues, “I don’t want to hurt them again. It was bad enough when our engagement fell apart.”

He didn’t mean to hurt you then of course. It was harsh to expect commitment out of a teenager who wasn’t ready, but you were still in pain.

Ieri sizes him up in the dim lighting of the diner. Gojo likes to be in control. He likes to be the one to set traps. It’s interesting to see him be the captive for once.

“You haven’t answered my question.” she presses.

Gojo’s fingers tense up.he gives in just a bit, “I’ll always be a little in love with them. Maybe because I was obligated to for so long.”

“And that’s not enough though, because they deserve more” he quickly adds.

“Can’t you change? Sounds like you’re afraid to try.” she sighs.

Gojo is quiet once again.

“Don’t wait for them to be in love with someone else before you realize that you want to be with them. I’d hate for you to be too late.” she warns, glancing towards you as you walk back to the table.

He looks away from Ieri. You sit back down in front of him.

He feels his heart swell and hurt at the same time. You’ve always represented a jumble of contradictions for him: someone to love and someone who represents traditions he hates.

“Did I miss something?” you ask, sensing the tension.

“No, nothing.” he denies, his voice purposely lightening to cover his mood.

“Well, why does everyone look so serious?” you perkily ask.

Gojo briefly glances at you. His shoulders relax and he sits back into his seat. After all these years, it’s still so easy to be swayed by your bright eyes.

“I was just about to call for another drink.” Ieri clears her throat.

“Me, too.” he adds.

You look at him carefully, a tinge of worry in your eyes. You don’t say anything though. Not now. This is between you and him. It’s a matter outside of your friendship with Ieri.  

“You can have my drink.” you offer to him, eyes locked onto his. 

Sensing your stare, he turns back at you, glad that his bandages cover his vulnerability. He’s not sure he can take it if you saw how deeply conflicted he was about his feelings. As he continues to look, recognition dawns on him.

In another universe, you could be married right now. You’d be having dinner, just the two of you, sitting across each other like this. In another world, maybe you wouldn’t have known each other at all. This moment feels like purgatory. He’s somewhat in love, just a little and you’re not his in a way that feels real.

You push your drink into his hands. Ieri looks away to give you a semblance of privacy. Gojo finally takes the drink. 

It feels strange for the man who has everything, to know he only has a little bit of you.

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

General taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan@kaizumi@holaaaf@glxar@francxsca

Series Taglist: @kageyamakock​ @gucci-froggy @cherryonigiri

I wrote this as a follow up for another Gojo x reader fic who used to be engaged. Check it here. This is 2/4 so let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the rest of the releases! 😊

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

[fandom-monium]

Kinky but Not Really

Summary: In which you make an odd request, and Spencer tries to fulfill it. “I don’t want to disrespect you...”

WC: 1.8k

TW: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, established relationships (blegh), light use of sexual themes including light degradation, light violence, and the slamming into walls (nothing explicitly sexual or nsfw bc im a wimp), specifically post-prison Reid, ft. Garvez and Rossi

Spencer loves you. He’s never doubted that for a second.

Your laugh as you throw your head back. Your eyes, the way they crinkle when you grin too wide. Even your style, whether you’re in joggers or suits, just does something to him he can't quite explain. Really, he loves you. 

Even if you’re weird.

Spencer knew what he was getting into, okay? He didn’t consider it earlier in your friendship, but as time went on and you two grew more comfortable around each other it became apparent that he wasn’t the only… outlier in the team. By the time you officially got together, he was already used to it.

But somehow you still manage to surprise him.

“You want me to what?” 

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” You wince as Spencer coughs. With his sleeve, he wipes the coffee dribbling down his chin, staring at you as if someone hit you over the head. It has to be the only viable explanation, considering what you’ve just asked him. “But hear me out.”

Spencer sits up and sets his mug on the coffee table. “Wh...what? Why? No-what? When?”

You wring your hands together, shifting your weight foot to foot as he squints at you. “Okay. When: um, some time after you came back from prison? I think? Why, I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking you.” 

“I don’t know, (Your Name),” Spencer rolls his lips together, anything and everything that could possibly go wrong racing through his mind. 

“Nothing extreme! I don’t expect you to slap me across the face⏤”

“Oh my god⏤”

“Just small things! Start off light,” You think for a moment. “Like shoving me around or smacking me. Calling me names.”

“I hear where you’re coming from, but I don’t want to…” He flushes, his voice hushed like what he's about to say is forbidden, “disrespect you.”

You take his hands in yours with a bright smile, “Hon, I love you, but please. I’m the one asking you to get violent with me.”

“What the-when did you up your demands?”

You continue, “Like, if you think about it, you’d be doing me a favor. Respecting my wishes by ‘disrespecting’ me. So, what do you think?” You watch him carefully, legs tucked under you, a hopeful sparkle in your eyes. He can almost see the dog tail wagging behind you.

How can he say no?

"Alright, if that's what you really want," Spencer sighs, smiling as you break out into a grin. He laughs when you tackle him into the couch, thanking him repeatedly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try. But starting tomorrow.”

“That’s fine!” You sit up, smiling down at him. Your lips wiggle as you try to suppress your anticipation. “No pressure, just do what you feel comfortable with and we’ll see from there?”

Spencer bites his lip and nods. “Sure.”

⏤

The men of the BAU are distinct; you can tell just by looking at them.

David Rossi, though the eldest, the senior, is suave and has a level of sophistication that could only come with age. It’s in his blazers, his stride, the warm yet knowing eyes. A reassurance that eases the people around him.

Matt Simmons rocks the young dad vibes, with the smooth-shaven face and simple clothing. Not to mention a smile that makes him good with both children and adults alike.

Then there’s Luke.

“You!”

Luke nearly falls out of his chair as Garcia stomps over, sitting up in attention as the click of her pumps grow nearer. “What? What happened?”

“You! You happened,” Garcia hisses, looming over him while Rossi comes up from behind. 

“Penelope, we don’t know for sure⏤”

“Who else could possibly do this? Matt and you could never. Only this troll could have done this,” She whips back on Luke, her eyes⏤usually bright with mischief⏤burning and accusatory. “Fix it!”

And just to tick her off, because that’s the purpose of their relationship: “No.” 

She sputters, fuming pink as her lipstick. And as Luke revels in the oncoming eruption, sneering at Garcia, Rossi⏤that wise geezer⏤squints at him.

“You don’t know what we’re talking about, do you?”

“... Not a clue.”

Maybe I should've retired. Rossi sighs, “Spencer and (Your Name) have been off today, and we think they’re having a fight.”

“And you think I have something to do with that?” Luke's face pinches in offense.

“You didn't see them today, have you?" 

"No?"

Garcia, shaking off her fury, is more than ready to spill the tea. "Kay, so this morning on the way up, I saw Spencer and (Your Name) waiting for the elevator and Spencer just snatched their coffee. And he didn’t even bother to let them into the elevator first.”

Luke frowns, “I mean, it's a bit ungentlemanly but I don’t think that means they’re fighting.”

(Had she shared the lift, she would have seen how apologetic Spencer was, nearly bursting into tears as he hands you the cup of coffee, throwing you whatever cash he has.)

“And during lunch I caught them down the hall by the break room,” Rossi recounts, wincing at the image, “They were talking in hushed tones, then Spencer shoved passed (Your Name) and stalked off.”

(If he’d check on you, he might have caught the proud gleam in your eyes, grinning wide at Spencer’s attempt at getting rough with you.)

“And you still think I’m involved?” Luke raises an eyebrow at Garcia.

She’s completely unapologetic as she scoffs, “Listen, I don’t know how Spencer can stand being friends with you, but clearly you influenced him in some way because before he met you, he was my sweet summer child. Now…” She withholds a sob, Rossi sympathetically patting her shoulder. “You’ve tainted him!”

“I… I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Then don’t,” Garcia sniffs, drying away tears. “Just bring our Spencer back!”

“Bring me back from what?”

They jump in unison, turning to find Spencer has returned from his break and is now back at his desk. He eyes them curiously as they fumble for an explanation.

“Hey, Doc,” Luke, deciding to end all this turmoil, asks, “Are you and (Your Name) having uh... lovers quarrel?” 

“A what?”

Garcia shoots him a look, “A ‘lovers quarrel’? Really?”

“Well, I doubt they’re fighting, and honestly a lovers quarrel sounds much less intense than⏤you know⏤fighting.”

“No, we are not fighting. Why would you think⏤oh, you saw...” Spencer’s face falls, melting into embarrassment. 

"Saw? Son, we witnessed," Rossi huffs as he crosses his arms and stares down Spencer. "Would you care to explain?"

"I know what you're thinking, but I swear it's not what it looks like. This is..." After his explanation, his embarrassed flush only deepens at their mortified expressions. 

"I've never wanted to be this close to you."

"My sweet summer child is no longer."

"Guys, chill. I for one am glad Spencer is willing to…” Luke gives him an awkward smile, “keep it interesting. The best relationships take effort, right?”

Spencer hums, nodding, “Exactly. We’re doing great⏤”

“Hey, guys,” You greet as usual.

Without missing a beat, he faces you and snaps, “Damn it, (Your Name), for once stop running your mouth and get me a drink.”

Luke, Garcia, and Rossi freeze, gaze switching between Spencer and you, waiting with bated breath. They haven’t seen Spencer remotely like this, not since prison. And despite knowing that you asked for this, they’re fully prepared to throw themselves in front of him just in case. 

But instead of reacting violently as they expected, you pause, taking his poor attempt at a glare in stride. Then you smile, heading to the coffee machine. “Sure, no problem.”

Spencer turns back to them. “See? B-better than ever...”

“Dude, are you crying?”

⏤

“So you couldn't do it, huh?"

Shoulders drooping from exhaustion, Spencer slumps against your desk and sighs, “No, I’m sorry.”

You shrug, “It’s okay. Thanks for trying though. As a reward, let’s get take-out. My treat." You press a kiss to his cheek, but the smile you shoot him only serves to make his heart sink. “Meet me at the elevator, k? I’ll get my things.”

“Okay...” As Spencer shrugs on his satchel, he can’t help the guilt squirming in his stomach. Why does he feel like he disappointed you? Or more accurately⏤didn’t meet your expectations. Sure, you’ve had your fair share of disputes and as Luke put it, “lovers quarrels”, but never has he felt so… defeated.

Is this what failure feels like? It sucks.

So as the elevator shuts, as it dings with every descended level, as you babble about what you should have for dinner, Spencer makes an executive decision. 

A final stand, if you will.

You turn to Spencer, “So, what do you want for dinner⏤”

You yelp as your back hits the wall, the back of your head cushioned by Spencer’s palm because he’d rather kill himself than hurt you, pressing his body against yours. Warmth envelopes him, and as you meet his gaze, he musters all the dark emotions he can, the side of him he didn’t realize he had until prison. He feels it⏤the fury, the disgust, the merciless violence⏤bubble to the surface, and he can’t deny the satisfaction he gets seeing your eyes wide with shock; the entire day you’ve seen him coming, taking every one of his attempts like a joke in spite of his best efforts.

At least now he feels like he’s got the upper-hand.

Spencer leans in, bumping his nose against yours in an Inuit kiss. It’s a gentle contrast to his next words, and as your breath hitches, he bites back a smirk, pulling back to meet your eyes.

“What I want is for you to shut your mouth and put it to good use.”

Your jaw slackens.

The elevator dings and you both jump, Spencer quickly pulling away from you as the door opens to the parking garage. Luckily, no one else is around and Spencer leads the way as you head for your car. But you’re silent as you walk, and he wonders if he went too far. Was he too rough? Disrespectful?

“Hey, (Your Name), are you⏤” Spencer looks over his shoulder, only to halt at your expression. 

You give him a toothy grin, face flushed and eyes crinkling as you tilt your head at him. “Yes?”

...Ah. If you keep looking at him like that, his heart might burst.

Letting his bag drop at his side, Spencer pulls you into a tight hug, and for a moment you sway together, hearts beating in time, breathing steady.

Spencer sighs, “I don’t get it.”

“It’s okay, I don’t get it either!”

He smiles into your shoulder, chuckling. Yeah, he loves you.

Especially because you’re weird.

⏤

AN: hello took a break from studying and wrote this trash at 2 am whoops

to the user that requested some rough d/s smut with degradation and rough play, im sorry but my asexual ass just could not with this one. but as a kinky asexual i rolled with it✨

pls take the “rough” play and “degradation” lightly. it’s not supposed to be accurate representation. this is just reader and spencer experimenting and having fun!!

i love that yall have the hots for post-prison reid while im over here just wanting to tuck him into bed and kill anyone that brings him harm😳

[bokutoslittlebird]

Family Vacation

Bokuto x reader x Akaashi

Author’s Note : no incest, I promise ; the request included some slight BokuAka interaction, however I made it more than slightly ; the hot springs resort is loosely based on three different locations under the Kinosaki Onsen in northern Hyogo [Mikuniya Ryokan, Yutouya Ryokan, Nishimuraya Ryokan]. Each one offers different things, but they all have some common aspects that I liked: seafood served during winter months [November - March], traditional ryokan, and options for the hot springs [indoor, outdoor, and family] ; holy fuck is this wrong.. but holy hell is it erotic

Warnings: introduction of the Bokuto family, best friends to lovers au, playful teasing [about reader’s virginity], some mlm [Bokuto x Akaashi] interaction, fingering, face-sitting, handjob, blowjob, cum eating, spit exchanges and mentions, no penetrative sex, virgin!reader, virgin!Bokuto

“Oh, [Y/N]! I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Thank you for having me, Bokuto-san,”

“Oh, dear, call me Fuyumi! You’re practically family, anyways,” she smiles, eyes crinkling as she does. Her smile makes you smile, bowing in respect as if you haven’t known her for years.

The Bokuto family always spent their winter vacation before New Years at an Onsen in Hyogo. Yasurai-fukurou was well known for their hot springs throughout the year, but their meals included seafood in the winter. Kōtarō and Shinjiro both love seafood, especially crab, so it made sense the Bokuto family would come to this place specifically. Winter meant snow, and snow meant the garden view from the spring was gorgeous, having the silver lining the green foliage as the pebbles along the ground glistened with melted snow, cold and slippery. It was Kōtarō’s and Machiko’s favorite season, so it was an added bonus. The family had the money to spend, treating the members to a relaxing trip. Even Keiji, Kōtarō’s friend, joined them his first year at Fukurodani.

You didn’t usually attend, yet you always wanted to. Your family celebrated holidays differently, so you often found yourself swamped with family activities around December, only getting free to hang out by the time school started back up. Always wishing to go, you finally got your wish this year. With the stress from school this past semester, your family decided to let you choose what to do, so you declined spending the holidays with your family. Instead, you were free to spend that quality time with the Bokuto family. Fuyumi practically begged Kōtarō to invite you, knowing you’d be alone, so you didn’t have to worry about inviting yourself. There was one problem, however.

“[Y/N] should room with us!” Machiko points out. “She can’t board with boys!”

“What do you take us for? We’re her best friends,” Kōtarō waves off his sister. “I worry Amaya might try to wrestle her,”

“She could use the practice!” She pipes up, only to be shut back down. “I wouldn’t hurt her,”

“Why not let the girl choose herself? It is where she will stay, in the end,” Shinjiro said. Although he was right, you suddenly felt your heart tugging in two different directions. Machiko and Kōtarō gave you the puppy dog eyes, begging to choose them. A heavy sigh came from you as you weigh the options presented in front of you.

“I trust Keiji and Kōtarō, I’ll room with them,”

“No!” The two girls dramatically shout, falling to their knees. Fuyumi laughs, patting your back.

“Good choice, dear,” she compliments. You know why. Her daughters may be considered mature and adults, but they are both hectic and chaotic in their own way. At least with Kōtarō, he has Keiji with him. There’s no reason to mull over the decision, you know full well that Keiji and Kōtarō wouldn’t hurt you.

Once settled into each room, your bedding laid between the two of them, the trip to relax in the ryokan was in order. The two genders were separated, of course, so you sat in the spring with Machiko, Amaya, and Fuyumi. It wasn’t a bad thing, being with the three, but you knew Machiko and Amaya like to tease you.

“Gosh, [Y/N], you’re so innocent! You’ve never done anything?” Amaya’s face made it seem like she was much more malicious than on the surface. “Even I had a couple boyfriends that I had special adventures with before your age,”

“Excuse me? Amaya!” Fuyumi scolds her daughter. “You never told us this,”

“Why would I? You and dad never allowed me to have a boyfriend until I graduated. Kōtarō even had a girlfriend in his second year,” she pouts, puffy cheeks making her less malicious and much more adorable. Though unintentional, her words make your mood sour, Kōtarō’s slipping from her lips. Machiko notices this, however.

“Well, Kōtarō is a boy and I told your father to make sure he doesn’t do any of that dating stuff, but it seems like he did,”

“You know, I’m kind of tired. I’m really relaxed,” you mention, moving to exit the water. “I should lay down and take a nap,”

“Oh, are you sure? Dinner will be served soon,” Machiko holds out her hand, as if to stop you. You’re quick about getting out, rinsing yourself off before wrapping a robe around your naked body.

“I’m sure. Wake me when dinner’s ready,” you cheerfully smile, waving to them as you leave the setting. Your smile falls, an artificial thing as you continue to pad towards the room. Passing the window leading to the garden, you notice the cascading of the white snowflakes, shimmering in the light from the outdoor lamps. It’s peaceful, the way it floats down to the ground until it rapidly melts, joining the slush forming on the pathway. A sigh leaves you, heart aching from the words Amaya let spill.

It wasn’t her fault, you tell yourself that as you continue to the room. Amaya doesn’t know, but Machiko does. Machiko has always had the older sister intuition, knowing when her younger siblings had something to hide or something embarrassing. Whether it was from her years of travel around the world, or just a trait of hers, she could pinpoint things that made you want to crawl in a hole. What does Machiko know, exactly? Your big, fat crush on her little brother.

Kōtarō has been your crush as long as you’ve known him, aka since you guys were waddling around with chubby legs. Your family and his family live near each other, so it made sense for you two to play a lot as children. As the years passed, your admiration for him evolved into a crushing thing, yet your young mind wouldn’t allow such a horrid thing to be spoken. No, it festered until you broke down one day in high school and confessed to the dark of the night, the only witness of your confession was the moon. You confessed that you loved him, you were in love with him, nobody else could compare. It hurt even more now, knowing you were falling in love with him while he was loving someone else. Even Keiji probably loved Kōtarō, knowing how close they were. You wouldn’t put it past them to be in a relationship, either. Each thought accompanied a step you took, each one bringing tears to prickle your eyes as you finally shut the door to the room, and your problems.

With the dark encompassing the room, you found yourself easily situating yourself on the ground to cry, curling up in a ball as you did so. A pathetic scene, you knew it was, yet you couldn’t help yourself.

After you left the ryokan, Shinjiro happened to be talking to the boys in front of him, both of them flushed red from the warmth of the bath and the topic at hand.

“I knew something was off in the way your mother encouraged you to invite her! I never thought it’d be that, however,” his guffaw had Kōtarō sinking into the water, bubbles coming from his nose as he huffs. Keiji looks at him pitifully, but doesn’t do much of anything else.

“She doesn’t even like me like that. This trip was a mistake,” Kōtarō mumbles, his mouth going back under the water. Keiji sighs, looking into the water where his distorted hands lie. Before he can speak, Kōtarō beats him to it. “I have to go to the bathroom. I think I’ll leave early,”

“You sure it’s just that?” Shinjiro teases. “Or are you going to wait for your lovely friend?”

“Okay, maybe it’s a bit of both,” he huffs, cheeks puffed out. Keiji lets the words die on his tongue, letting Kōtarō leave the spring without any reason to look back.

Shinjiro sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks into the water. “Maybe I went too far. I shouldn’t tease him about his crush, it seems like it’s important to him. I don’t think she sees him in that light, anyways,”

“She does, actually. I think she’s been in love with him for a while,” he confesses. Shinjiro’s eyebrows rise as the words sink in. However, he is quick to understand. No longer laughing and joking, his smile is more bitter and sad. A pity smile.

“And you’ve been in love with her, haven’t you?”

Keiji turns his head to the side, yet he nods. The red dusting his cheeks is no longer just the warmth of the water. Shinjiro moves closer to Keiji, putting his hand on the younger man’s back.

“Then tell her. You both need to confess, not let this fester and turn into something ugly. Don’t let this ruin your friendship with Kōtarō, either. It’s not worth it,”

“I know. I know, Bokuto-san,”

“When you gonna call me Shinjiro? Or even dad? You need to let loose, Keiji!” He laughs again, getting Keiji to crack a smile.

While Keiji ponders how he should go about this, Kōtarō trudges up to his room for the week, unaware you’ve also turned in early. His mood has taken a turn for the worse, hair deflating as he pouts. No matter what, he’s always found himself finding your validation to be the most important. Throughout the years, he’s reached out to both you and Keiji for validation, finding them both to be important to him. While he knows Keiji partially does it just to make him happy, which he is thankful for, he knows yours is genuine. Even when he forced himself to move on, knowing you didn’t see him in that light, he found it hard. You followed him into his dreams, gleeful chimes of your laughter as the future he aims for bloomed into an obtainable goal. Yet, he’d wake up to see the empty space beside him, a brutal reminder that his dreamt future would stay in his head, playing on loop until he could do something about it in the real world.

When his door comes into view, he sighs, relief flooding through him. As he gets closer, he hears a soft voice from inside. Leaning his ear against the shut door, he hears you — a squeak of his name, accompanying a soft mewl, most likely held back due to the thin walls. Even he understands what you’re doing, it’s not like he’s never thought of you that way, finding himself wishing you could relieve his stress in the best way possible. As to respect your privacy, and settle his nerves, he quietly creeps away, to his parent’s booked room. He decides to use the toilet in there, giving you a few moments to finish your own business.

Leaning against the door once more, he doesn’t hear your heavy breaths or your moans and mewls, so he slides open the door to see you under the covers, laptop shining in your face as a movie plays. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Huh?” You jump, turning to see Kōtarō’s large frame at the entrance of the room. It’s scary, the way he seems to have popped up after you finished, or attempted, getting off on thinking of him. “Oh, Kō. It’s just you. No more hot springs for you?”

“Oh, no, I found it to be getting too hot,” he lies, rubbing his neck. The robe you’re wearing is the one you put on after exiting the spring, so his perverted little mind knows you’re completely naked underneath. Not only that, you’re probably nice and slick from thinking about him—

He stops himself, hearing your voice. “Did you hear me? I asked if you wanted to watch the movie with me,”

“Oh, sorry, off in my own world. Uh, sure, what is it?”

“Crown for Christmas. A sappy romance Christmas movie, from America. It’s very predictable, but it’s cute. My mom loves it, so I brought it to watch,”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” he hums, lying on his own bedding. He didn’t move closer to you, giving you some space, but he finds himself panicking when you move closer.

“Can’t see if you’re all the way over there, dummy,” you giggle, pressing play. He can’t find it in himself to focus, the movie being background noise to his thoughts. The hot springs help to add a special glow to your skin, making it seem smoother than before, and you smell so nice, not to mention he can feel his cock throbbing at your soft voice calling out his name. What would it be like if he used his own fingers, would you be able to hold back? Or would you come completely undone as you came on his fingers— even better, his cock? Just the thought has him groaning, head shoved into his pillow as you pause the movie, probably confused.

He looks up, seeing your dazed expression — yep, totally confused. He sighs and shrugs, apologizing. “Are you okay? You seem.. tense,”

“Tense?” That’s one way to describe it, he supposes. “I’m just.. dad was teasing me earlier. That’s why I left. I’m.. remembering what he said,”

“Oh, I get that. Amaya kept teasing me about girl stuff, so I left. Machiko tried to stop me, but I was already out of the water,” you admit. It’s not the full truth, but that’s okay.

“Girl stuff? Like what?” Kōtarō never shied from girly stuff, including the weird stuff that happened to girls like puberty and the menstrual cycle. You chalked it up to his older sisters being shameless, never making it seem gross. Even when you started your period in class, Kōtarō was there to help you, a knight in shining armor.

You wish they were less shameless.

“Oh, um, you know, the romantic stuff,”

“Like? Boyfriends?”

“Yeah, I’ve.. never had one. No experience on my end. Amaya was teasing me because she had a couple of boyfriends before my age, so it.. it didn’t hurt my feelings, but it made me feel some kind of way, you know?” Your attempted explanation was kind of butchered, trying to explain it without giving too much detail. Kōtarō wouldn’t judge you, of course not, it wasn’t something to judge you about.

He knows the feeling, being inexperienced.

“W-Well, if you want any experience before going into the dating scene, I could.. always help you,” he whispers. His words hang in the air, settling into both of your minds. He’s berating himself for using such a lame line to try and get in your pants, but you’re trying to find a way to say yes without seeming desperate. However, “I mean! I have experience, so I could help you! I’d say I’m pretty good at doing stuff. Oh! It could be like.. any advice or something.. hands on,” he whispers the last part again, his confidence melting like snow on a summer’s day when your face falls.

It isn’t you don’t want it, you just would prefer him to not word it like that. It reminds you of Amaya’s words and the pain in your chest, the churn in your stomach. “If you’re gonna be like that, maybe I should ask Keiji,” you huff, turning your body away from his. Focusing on forcing your stomach to stop twisting in knots, you don’t even notice when Kōtarō closes the laptop and presses himself against you. Well, not until you feel something pressing into your back. “Kō—”

“Don’t be like that. I’ve never actually gone all the way, I’ve been saving that for someone special. I can help, though, if you’d let me,” his breath fans over your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His arm snakes under you, pulling you into his stomach while he lays on his back.

“Kōtarō!”

“You’re stressed, gotta loosen up a bit. I’m helping,” he just says, making sure your legs are hooked over his. With the lack of clothing under the robe, your nether region is spread open towards the door, sending your adrenaline skyrocketing. Kōtarō is quick to ease that, his thick fingers spreading open your folds while his middle finger rubs against your sensitive clit. “You’re absolutely soaked, do I turn you on that much?” He’s grinning, you know he is. Gritting your teeth, you keep your mouth closed as you focus on the feeling of his fingers, now sliding up and down and collecting your slick.

Kōtarō doesn’t want to tease you for too long, slipping his middle finger into your cunt as you mewl, hand coming to cover your mouth. “What a reaction. I wonder..” he trails off, pulling his finger out, only to add in three fingers. You’re arching, legs tending against his as he fingers you, lips pressing themselves to your hair and ear. When his tongue flicks out against your ear, you squirm and he grunts, his left arm keeping you firm against him. “Sensitive, are you?”

He doesn’t get any vocal confirmation from you, but the way you’re clenching around his fingers tells him all he needs to know. He makes sure to keep his thumb bumping against your clit, adding pressure. You can feel the familiar feeling, the beginning of an orgasm as he pumps his fingers into you. With a squeal of his name, your nails dig into the meat of his arm, liquids spilling out of you and all over Kōtarō’s fingers. The squishing sound enters your ears, legs tensing as you mewl, his fingers rubbing themselves against you some more.

“You’re so wet.. I bet it’d be easy to slip my cock in there, wouldn’t it?” His voice is low, a rumble in his chest as your cunt clenches at the thought, your wildest fantasies so close to coming to fruition when someone clears their throat. You pop up, Kōtarō jolting and keeping you on his chest as he moves.

Keiji is looking at the both of you, a heavy blush adorning his cheeks. The room is dim, only the lights from outside the inn illuminating him. He’s right at the door, right in front of where Kōtarō was just fingering you. Kōtarō’s hand finally leaves from between your legs, glistening wetness shown in the lamplight. “If you want to give her experience, you need to go over everything involved in foreplay, Kōtarō. There’s more to prep,”

“M-More?” your voice is small, barely a whisper as you find more slick oozing from you, Keiji entering the room. He kneels down in front of you, still held against Kōtarō’s chest.

“Has he even kissed you, yet? Or did he go headfirst into fingering you?” When you shake your head, Kōtarō himself sucking in a breath, Keiji knows he was right. With the elegance he always exudes, Keiji tilts your chin up towards him. “Then, allow me,”

The kiss is gentle, yet not simple. His lips are firmly against yours, molding perfectly as he keeps your chin tilted. As he deepens the kiss, you find your hands grasping at his own robe, feeling yourself lighter than you were when you had entered the room. Keiji moves to pull away, a brisk kiss on your lips once more before swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, sending heat all over your body.

“Akaashi..” Kōtarō whines, his grip on you tightening. “This is supposed to be my time with her,”

“Well, you’re going too fast. Why not elongate the time spent together, hm?” His voice sends tingles down your spine, his hands removing you from Kōtarō’s grasp. “Lay back, Bokuto-san. You’ll get your turn,”

Your brain is going haywire as he speaks, undoing Kōtarō’s robe with unconscious grace. He’s not doing it on purpose, you know he isn’t, it’s just how he is. Once Kōtarō has been disrobed, you find more heat springing to your cheeks as his muscles ripple and flex. The lack of light prevents you from seeing everything, but you’ve always found yourself insatiable when thinking of his broad frame and what hides under his clothes.

“Give me your hand, [Y/N],” Keiji’s voice has you coming back down to earth, yet you find yourself once more shy with Kōtarō’s legs spread, his cock heavy and so large in Keiji’s hand. You comply, though, your much smaller hand joining Keiji’s around Kōtarō’s girth. It’s so much, the way it feels and the heat of the skin under your fingertips. A soft groan comes from Kōtarō as Keiji moves his hand, his other hand shuffling you between his legs.

“This is called a handjob, [Y/N],” Keiji says. You nod in understanding, realizing he’s teaching you. “Moving your hand up and down the shaft is the basic function of it, but you can also use your fingers to tease the slit, like so,” he demonstrates, swiping his thumb over the small slit, puffy and red where Kōtarō’s cum is dripping from. The simple act has Kōtarō throwing his head back, moaning as his hand covers his mouth. The walls are thin and if his family is back, they probably have a good idea of what’s going on.

“I see,” you hum, continuing to move your hand up and down the shaft. Keiji nods, seeing you’re understanding.

“Or tease his balls, like cupping them or massaging. Don’t squeeze them hard, though. It won’t feel very nice,” his hand moves to cup and tease Kōtarō’s balls, the man himself laying on his back as his face turns red, the ministrations getting to be too much. “There’s also a blowjob, but we can teach you that next time,”

“N-Next time??” You squeak, jumping a bit. Whether it was a one time thing or the beginning of a relationship didn’t cross your mind. His words, however, seem to please you more than imaginable.

“Of course, darling. We’re not done here, either. Why don’t you let Bokuto-san show you what other kinds of pleasure he can give you?” At Keiji’s words, Kōtarō pops up with a bright smile on his face.

“Sit on my face, baby,”

“Oh, woah, wow, uh..” you stop, unsure how to politely decline. His mouth and nose, down there? Not to mention your weight on his head? You were sure he’d regret his decision. “I don’t think”

“I’ll be fine. C’mon, I gotta show you what else my mouth can do besides dirty talk,” he winks, sending more heat to your cheeks, making you feel rather hot for a winter’s day, clad in only a robe. Keiji seems to read your mind, taking your robe from your shoulders, the belt falling undone easily from the previous activities. Once you’re down to your birthday suit, Keiji presses a kiss to your shoulder blade, a whisper to go that sends you crawling closer to Kōtarō’s face. He grins, eagerly taking your thigh and placing it on the other side, keeping your drenched cunt close to his face. He says something, but only a muffled noise comes out, his tongue swiping along your folds.

With your back to him, Keiji wishes he told you to face him and watch, yet he finds the scene of you erotic. He may have a bit more expertise than you and Kōtarō, it seems that’s all that’s needed. He smiles, gaze catching on the way Kōtarō’s fingers dig into the fat of your thigh, making indents. Completely forgotten, Keiji spits a glob onto Kōtarō’s cock, him jumping at the feeling. With a few more pumps of his hand, he flicks his tongue against the head.

Kōtarō’s moan has you mewling, the sound acting as a vibration as your fingers tug harshly on the silver and black strands. Though not as long as they were in high school, there’s enough to grasp and pull on. The wet sounds from behind you has your head turning, eyes falling on Keiji’s mouth wrapped around Kōtarō’s cock. It’s an erotic scene, his head moving up as more of the length is revealed, his blue eyes settling on your own as you feel a nip down below. So focused on Keiji, Kōtarō wants your attention all on him. Keiji chuckles, almost like a hum, that vibrates around the cock in his mouth that has Kōtarō moaning.

The tongue that flicks against your clit has you squirming, restrained mewls and moans leaving your lips as hands tug on his locks. Kōtarō licks and suckles on your clit occasionally, then moves down to prod and swipe over your entrance. The position makes it easy for him to breathe, but he moves down further. New position has you squealing, hands flying to your mouth as you squeeze your eyes shut to focus on the pleasure. Another moan from Kōtarō that sends shivers down your spine, heat to your core, accompanying the obscene noises of Keiji sucking Kōtarō off.

With Kōtarō’s nose bumping against your clit, his tongue’s only focus is on your pretty little cunt, sucking and swirling his tongue. The sensitivity from earlier makes quick work of you, hunching over as your thighs tighten around Kōtarō’s head, his strong hands keeping you from hurting him as you gush all over his face. A moan comes from him as he laps at your juices spilling over his face, his own orgasm coming as Keiji takes him down as far as he can. Globs of white cum spurt from the side of Keiji’s mouth, a gagging sound as he struggles to swallow it.

A hand on your shoulder has you leaning back, falling against Keiji’s chest with his cheeks puffy. Kōtarō manages to look up at the scene, gaze fuzzy as he watches Keiji kiss you once more, cum seeping from where his lips meet yours. When Keiji pulls away, his tongue is out, pushing the dripping cum into your mouth where the rest lies. It’s enough to have Kōtarō hard once more, a dark and heavy blush settling across his cheeks and nose.

The thick appendage pressing into your back once more has you gasping and jumping, some cum spilling out your mouth and down your chest. As it travels between the valley of your breasts and over the perk nipples, Keiji takes it upon himself to lap at the milky droplets. You gulp down the rest in your mouth, making a show of it by tilting your head up, throat contracting as you swallow it all. Kōtarō finds himself unable to look away from the scene.

“Ah, seems like someone’s still raring to go,” Keiji breaks the silence, eyes glancing back to look at Kōtarō’s cock, once more standing tall and proud. He then looks to you. “Shall I let you handle this one alone?”

[henqtic]

𝘈𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘔𝘦 𝘈 𝘋𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader 

word count: 2.3k

summary: Draco Malfoy. His name was registered in your mind as your enemy, plain and simple. A platinum blonde idiot who you’d find much more likable if he’s just shut up everyone in a while. But what would happen if your parents arranged for you both to attend the yule ball together- would some hidden feeling shine their way out? 

warnings: mentions of arranged marriages, mentions of feeling anxious, feelings of self doubt, kissing, angry love confession, crying, a little angst, please contact me if theres more !

a/n: Also this is an au where the yuleball is in seventh year and no Voldemort <3

masterlist.  // gif creds // taglist form.

When Dumbledore announced the yule ball to the school in the middle of the dinner, you were a bit excited. Excited at the idea that you’d have the chance to be asked to the dance by some nice boy and that could potentially lead to a relationship.

But being born into a family like yours, you couldn’t hope for much. Not even a week after they got the news, your mother and father made an arrangement with the Malfoy’s that you would have to attend the ball with their son Draco.

You could've sworn they had been trying to set you both up for some kind of arranged marriage. Maybe them pushing you together was a way to soften a blow when it finally happened? But still, out of any one they just had to choose him.

You had grown up with him, Draco, and if you hadn't already known— he was what you called a... bitch boy. He’d tattle about small things, throw a few temper tantrums, and cry to get his way. This is why even though your families had been so closely connected for years, centuries even— he was your enemy and nothing could change that.

That fact wasn’t hidden from your parents, not in the slightest. They saw the numerous dirty looks you’d throw at each other when you thought no one looking, not to mention the childish pulling of hairs and elbowing with shoulders.

But they also saw the good things about your relationship, how'd you do little things for each other that made a bigger impact than you thought, like it was second nature.

Like whenever another dinner party would come up where there were random families of investors, business owners or, just more snooty rich people— Draco would always make sure you were seated right next to him in the case that both of you had to show up.

It honestly wasn’t that much of a big deal from his view point. Only an idiot couldn’t tell that you found yourself uncomfortable around new people and him saving you a seat was just common decency.

And there was always little moments where they’d find you both curled into each other after one of the tense meetings you had to attend seeing as you’d be graduating soon and still had the responsibility of up keeping your family names once you were adults.

Draco would be there tenderly playing with your hands and venting. Because while he did come off as confident about everything in his life, how he had both the Malfoy and Black fortuned to fall back onto, you could tell he was still scared of the future— of growing up.

That fear is also what led to the very rushed apology he had offered to the golden trio for his past behavior. You did have to physically push him into them and he did choke up on the words of kindness that were supposed to make the apology sincere but he still did it.

They hadn't forgiven him of course, they just sort of stared like some one had cast an unforgivable curse on the boy seconds before, but at least they were now, they were civil towards each other.

And even though you did do those things for him, that didn’t stop you from not wanting to do this and neither did it stop you from impatiently waiting outside of the great hall doors.

Your dress was made out of nothing less of the finest fabrics and silks you could get your hands onto. You knew it wouldn't make a single dent into your families Gringotts account but you felt that the purchase would make some sort of statement.

“You’re five minutes late,” you seethed, watching as a head of white-blonde hair finally round the corner. His hands brushed his jacket in a smug manor, getting rid of the invisible dust particles.

It really wasn’t that much time, many other students could still be found wither waiting for their dates or just standing around to show up ‘fashionably late’.

But you knew Draco had spent those minutes staring at himself in the mirror and fixing his oh so perfect hair.

“Some of us like to look good when showing up to these things,” he sneered before eyeing you in disgust.

“Oh please, this dress cost more than the gel you have piled in your hair.” His eyes narrowed at you along with a scrunch of his nose as he offered you the junction between his folded arm to lead you down the steps.  

The night had gone pretty well so far, both of you somehow never finding the right time to leave the others side as you had planned. It seemed as if your friends had all decided to hide themselves away from you both— like they were planning something. Of course, they were.

Blaise fucking Zabini

That idiot talked Professor Flitwick into playing a slow song, one that every couple had to join in on. And while that did sound good at eye view, you had to sign a paper at the begging saying if you coming as a couple or single. And the only people who had signed single to not face embarrassment were the staff—not counting Filch and Mrs. Norris.

Was this real, you being the living cliche of dancing with your enemy?

“If you step on my shoes one more time, I’ll leave you,” he growled into your, tightening his grip on your waist. Yeah, it was.

“What do you think I’ll do? Cry?” You asked in a mocking tone, sticking out your stuck your bottom lip out in a pout to taunt him even further.

Suddenly your front was pressed up against his back— your attention had been else where. Else where being reaching the goal of getting on his last nerve so when a husky voice whispered in your ear, you were shocked.

“Oh don’t act like I haven’t made you cry before.” He turned you back around swiftly, the only thing indicating what had just happened being the proud smirk on his face.

“Says you. Weren’t you the one who cried over a guy asking me out in fifth year?” You challenged, bringing up the incident that happened two years ago.

He hadn’t cried but he might as well have and you just needed something to tick him off for the moment. Whatever he had just did caused something to happened within you, and you weren’t sure if you liked it or not yet.

It was a situation that the blonde deeply wanted to regret—George Weasley asking you out. You and Draco had been finishing up on your work in the courtyard when he had invited himself to sit in between you and Draco and then proceeded to ask you out on a date.

Draco hadn't given you the chance to answer, a new found jealously fueling him to gather both of your things and drag you away from the scene.

He knew the chances were slim that you would reject the boy, and deep down tucked inside of him, Draco knew that the Weasleys were better than him— in some aspects.

Over the years Draco had found himself growing into a separate person from his parents, a person who had could think on their own and didn’t have to rely solely on his parents' truths.

And through that process, he realized that maybe his ideals were not the best out there. Including the way he treated many of his pears even if he was too proud to say it out loud.

That being said, he always stayed up wondering while you stayed. Why’d you even stick with him in the first place. And that’s what Brough him to find out his second greatest fear, loosing you.

Yes, you were insufferable at times, but you were still you. Someone that he liked having around and talking too. And someone that listened to him even if it was something as stupid as why gingers exist and why they shouldn't.

Yes that was an actual conversation that you had. In conclusion, you were a person he loved. But he never did think to tell you that because, why risk losing you over something that was most likely unrequited.

“I was protecting your future y/n. Would you like for your children to come out as gingers,” he spat as if what he had just made complete sense.

“Draco I was fifteen and he was sixteen at the time and we barely ever talked before that because you were always bad-mouthing his family.”

Now that you think of it, he had always been this way about you and boys. It was an ongoing thing where it didn't matter what blood type, what house, which people they associated themselves with, they were always ‘below you and you could find better’.

“Why do you always meddle in my relationships?” You were irritated. Maybe it was the close proximity of your bodies or maybe it was how oblivious he was.

“Meddle? You’ve never even been in a relationship,” he snorted making your point clearer than day.

“Exactly. Why are you so jealous of me wanting to break out of whatever shell we have enclosed over each other? What if I want to branch out and you know, talk to new people?”

Ouch.

It didn’t hurt that you considered him to be somewhat of an enemy, it was your thing—but you didn’t even consider him to be a friend?

“Alright then when about Pansy? I tried to break out of our ‘shell’ as you call it when I started talking to her.”

“Parkinson was not good for you then and now even more. We both know that.”

You weren’t a person who used the word hate. In most times it was used out of anger and would be regretted later on. But Pansy Parkinson? She was very deserving of the title of someone that you hated.

Commenting on someone else’s hair when she had been walking around with a bowl cut for the last last five years? It didn’t make sense to you how she always found a way to put her input in places where it truly wasn’t needed.

“Yeah alright. Then who is good enough for me y/n?”

“Oh I don’t know me,” you mumbled under your breath not expecting him to hear it— but he did.

That’s how you found yourself once again getting dragged away. But this time it was form the great hall to a more private place where none of the ears of Hogwarts could hear you both.

“What do you mean you’re good enough for me?” He asked with more disgust in his tone than wanted, and it crushed you.

You scoffed before going on, “Well I’ve known you since we were in diapers. Would it be so horrible to consider me good enough for you?” You asked watching as some emotion flickered past his eyes.

“I mean I know so many dumb things about you like how you hate the feeling of those sweaters that your mother always buys you and you turn them inside out. And then when she ask if you're wearing them you aren't lying to her face. Do you know how cute that is, that you don’t even harbor the ability to lie to your mum about something as small as that?”

Cute?

“And don’t get me started on how your favorite food is not that ridiculously priced stake that you try convincing people- even me. I know that it’s that tomato soup that your mum makes when you’re sick because it reminds you of being a kid. And guess what? I don’t even let the house elves make it for you when I say that they do—”

“Then who does y/n?” He asked softly while slowly bringing you to be trapped between his arms by one of the thick walls. He always had the suspicion be never thought you’d actually—

“Well I uh- I do it myself because I want it to have the same feeling of home as it always does and I sort of asked your mum the exact details on how to cook it like she does,” you explained peering up to look into his eyes.

“You hate the smell of tomatoes,” he said with a light laugh, it wasn’t out of amusement but pure adoration. Never did he think that you’d actually do that for him— of course, you were there when he was sick but it was more of making fun of his ‘weak immune system’ and throwing tissues at him.

“Well I love you more and don’t pretend like you don’t slip those house elves thank you letter—” You were once again cut off but instead it was by his hand reaching the side of your jaw to look up at him fully.

“Repeat that,” he whispered with a small smirk.

oh no

Tears started to cloud your vision, the realization hitting that you had may just ruin your relationship with your childhood- enemy- friend- frenemy?

“Don’t cry I’m not- I’m not mad at you. I’m happy, unbelievably so. I just need you to repeat exactly what you just said to me,” he said moving both hands to cup your face giving his thumbs access to wipe the liquid from under your eyes.

“I love you Draco and I’m sorry that I ruined this. We could honestly just forget it if you’d like.”

“I don’t want to forget anything. Would it be a surprise if I told you that I loved you back and that I have for a long time?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. Was he serious, or was this some sort of sick joke?

Noticing the worries floating around in your head, he gave you a look, one that wordlessly asked that if the next move he was going to make was the right one and that you would both be fine after.

And it was

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[because-of-a-friend]

Royalty!Hoshi AU

MASTERLIST

Thanks for the request @toffeechuu !!! I really hope you like it, it’s a little outside of my usual writing comfort zone so I hope I pulled through with this one lol

Obviously it was a no

You knew that the answer was an absolute no

You knew you were meant to be the sole ruler of your kingdom

And that if you ever married, it would have to be an arranged one that proposed tactical advantages for your kingdom

There was no way you could be with just anyone

But... Soonyoung...

His parents had worked in your household his entire life so you had known him for almost all of your own

You could distinctly remember meeting him for the first time

You had both been so young

You walked into the stables to greet your favorite of the palace horses

And promptly ran into Soonyoung who was there helping his father 

“Hey watch where you’re going!” he exclaimed, worried that you had been hit with the pitchfork he was using to shovel old hay out of the stables

“You can’t talk to me like that!” you scrunched your nose at him, extending your hand expectantly, waiting for him to help you up

“I can talk to anyone any way I want” he grumbled, but did grab your hand to pull you to your feet

“Don’t you know who I am?” 

You could easily cringe at how snobby your younger self had been

“Should I?” Soonyoung responded casually

That’s when his father walked in

“Soonyoung, you should treat their majesty with respect!” he pulled Soonyoung into an upright position before having him bow to you

“Your majesty, this is my son, Soonyoung, please forgive his behavior”

You nodded as a sign that it was ok, seeing how red Soonyoung had turned and not wanting to cause anymore trouble

You and Soonyoung interacted often, seeing as you spent plenty of time at the stables

It was nicer out there, away from the hustle and bustle of the palace

And you got to wear play clothes when you went out, which was hardly ever allowed otherwise

And you loved the horses

So you and Soonyoung saw each other often

When you were young children, your time together mostly consisted of running around the palace grounds and playing games you had never really gotten the chance to before

As you got slightly older, Soonyoung taught you how to brush down and take care of the horse that had been dedicated as yours when you were to start riding

And then Soonyoung became an official stable boy at the palace

You tried not to think too often about how he had shot up suddenly one year, his height overtaking your own quickly as the two of you first reached your teen years

But there were times when you’d both be in the stables together, and he’d reach over you to grab reins for a horse, or a brush to groom one

And you couldn’t help but blush every time he leaned over you, towering from above

When you finally started learning to ride, Soonyoung was right next to you the whole time

He’d lead the horse for your first few times riding

And he’s guide you through directing the horse when you started out on your own

Then he’d ride alongside you as you started to get better and riding more independently

Then it became almost a daily tradition for the two of you to go out together

And then spend hours afterwards caring for the horses and walking around the grounds until you were both expected somewhere else

And as you got even older, more adult responsibilities were expected of both of you

And you knew better than to talk about your issues with your subjects

But Soonyoung was your friend

And you really trusted him

So one night you sit together under the moonlight and tell each other everything 

This becomes a tradition too

You sneaking out of your window when everyone else in the palace is asleep and running to meet Soonyoung for late night heart to hearts

You both spill your deepest secrets to each other and every thought and complaint and wish and dream

You know Soonyoung better than anyone in the world and he knows you better than anyone else

For the longest time you chalk it up to him being your best friend

But one day you run out to find him in the stables 

It’s early so the sun is just rising

Soonyoung is coming to the stables from the outskirts of the palace grounds

The sun is illuminating him from behind with pinks and oranges

He’s wearing a loose, flowy shirt with high-waisted pants

His suspenders have slipped off one of his shoulders

And he just looks so... stoic as he’s making his way through the tall grass towards you

(My obsession with Pride & Prejudice is showing)

There’s a look on him you don’t see often

And you feel this weird feeling in the deepest part of your chest

Like a bubble slowly building inside of it

And it makes you want to burst

If that image of him wasn’t enough

When he approaches you, he greets you with a soft “Hello, your majesty”

And something about the tone of his voice

It feels like the bubble has reached all the way up to your throat

“Hello Soonyoung,” you say gently, “you seem... serious today”

“Just have lots to think about,” he gives you a very small smile

And then suddenly he goes off and you don’t see him for the rest of the day

It’s the first time since you’ve met that you haven’t spent hours of your day with Soonyoung

And you’re just kind of miserable for the whole day

And that night you’re so anxious to sneak out and see Soonyoung

He’s already there at your usual meeting spot

He greets you sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and apologizing quickly for not joining you on your ride that day

“That’s quite alright, Soonyoung, I’m only hoping you’ll tell me why” you say cautiously, hoping you’re not pushing something you shouldn’t

Soonyoung chuckles before extending his arm

You link yours in his, letting him lead you down a path around the palace

At first he skirts around what he’s thinking about, talking about how his day went and then asking you how yours was

“Honestly it was sort of lonely”

He looks guilty for a moment

There’s silence for a bit

“Oh please tell me what you’re thinking of Soonyoung,” you tug on his arm

He clears his throat, looking at you for a moment before avoiding eye contact

“I was offered an apprenticeship in town,” he finally admits

“Oh Soonyoung that’s wonderful! I mean, that’s a great opportunity!” you exclaim, feeling so proud of him

“It is, isn’t it?” his voice sounds sour

“Do you have doubts about it, Soonyoung?” 

“I suppose I do, your majesty...”

“Can’t you just call me by my name, Soonyoung, just once?”

“I would if I wanted to be beheaded,” he laughs lightly

“Oh please, like we’d ever participate in such barbaric practices... and like I’d ever tell on you!”

“I know you wouldn’t” he smiles, tugging you slightly closer

“But really Soonyoung, going to live in town and getting all that experience. It would open up so many more opportunities for you and your life. What’s there to stop you from going?”

He smiles at you again

But this time

His smile breaks your heart

There’s so much sadness behind it

“I’m not sure,” is all he says. “Now besides getting ignored by your best friend, what else did you do today?” he jokes as he continues walking

Soonyoung has awhile to give his answer about accepting the apprenticeship

You can see it in his face the whole time he’s considering it

His brow is always frowning with worry

You wonder what it’s like inside his head, to be that worried 

You don’t have to wonder for long

Your parents call you in for a meeting one day

And drop the bomb that you have been betrothed

You try your best to hide your displeasure out of respect and understanding the situation you’re in

“I thought I was to be the sole ruler of this kingdom” you say in a measured tone

“Yes,” your father sighs, “but... times are changing, things are more... complicated”

You practically flee from the meeting once you realize there was no way to argue against it

You shut yourself in your room for the rest of the day

You only come out when it’s time to sneak out and meet Soonyoung

You fly across the grounds to find him

Soonyoung is smiling when he sees you approaching but then his face falls when he notices that you’re crying

“Your majesty? What’s wrong?”

“Soonyoung they- they promised my hand in marriage to a prince, I- I’m to get married,” you panted out before your crying overtook your voice

Soonyoung gladly overstepped his boundaries, pulling you into a hug to comfort you

But over your shoulder, his own face is contorting into pain

He too knows the reality and gravity of the situation 

And that there’s not much he can do

“I-” he starts before doubting what to say to you

“What do I do, Soonyoung? I can’t do this” you say when he doesn’t speak up

“You... don’t want to be married?” he pries

“I don’t want to be married to him,” you whisper

Soonyoung stutters for a moment before deciding what he has to do

He can’t let you risk your throne and kingdom for him

“I’m taking the apprenticeship”

You pull away from him immediately

“What?” is all you can say

“I’m- I’m leaving” he tries to say it confidently 

“Oh,” you feel pathetic for a moment, “I’m happy for you Soonyoung. I just-”

“Just what?”

“I just thought that maybe you weren’t going because...”

Soonyoung pulls a rather ugly expression onto his face and you immediately wince

“You are royalty. If I refused your friendship, it would have been disrespectful”

“Please don’t do this Soonyoung,” you beg

“That was the only reason I was your friend, because I had to be,” he finishes, stepping away from you fully

But you don’t miss the way his voice cracks or the tears beginning to fill his eyes

“Soonyoung wait, can we just talk-”

“I’m leaving tomorrow. Goodbye, your majesty”

Soonyoung turns and walks into the darkness

Your whole world feels like it’s ending

Every day you spend without Soonyoung and getting closer to your wedding day, is another day you feel your happiness dwindling

You try to spend time in the stables but it doesn’t feel the same

And you constantly run into Soonyoung’s father

Who happily tells you how much Soonyoung enjoys being an apprentice 

And you’re getting tired of feigning support and joy for Soonyoung when you miss him as much as you do

So you begin to avoid the stables altogether 

Soonyoung is doing well at his internship 

But every day feels just as joyless for him as it does for you

He hates having to live without you

One day he’s strolling to the local market

His path is interrupted by a parade of carriages

There he is, Soonyoung thinks, the groom to be

Your wedding is coming and soon you’ll be married

The town is suddenly filled with people from the other kingdom, getting ready for the wedding

Soonyoung runs into two of these people at the market

He finds them odd immediately

They’re dressed in all dark clothing and whispering to each other as they side-eye everyone walking near them

Soonyoung moves closer under the guise of inspecting the fruit on the far left side of the stand he’s at

“Yes but do you have the poison, it must be delivered by tonight” Soonyoung’s ears perk up with the words

“Of course I have it, can’t lose what our prince needs to gain complete control over this kingdom”

Soonyoung’s heart stops

Poison

They’re going to poison you

Soonyoung runs to the palace

The whole way from the town

He reaches the palace by nightfall

And barges straight into your family’s first meeting with the prince and his family

You’re staring at him wide-eyed 

He’s dripping with sweat, panting so hard he can barely talk

But he can point out the two men from earlier at the market

“Poison,” he pants, “they have poison. They mean to poison your majesty”

A gasp flows through the room before there’s silence

The palace guards take over the two men before searching them and finding the poison

Needless to say, the wedding does not go on

For days everyone is worried for the state of the kingdom

Apparently the king and queen had no idea their son meant to poison you

So there were days of negotiation of peace for your two kingdoms

It was agreed eventually that if the prince faced consequences dealt by his own kingdom, then your own would not declare war

When announcements of the agreement were made, the whole kingdom sighed in relief

Soonyoung hears the news while still working at his apprenticeship

After he had saved you, the castle kind of went into complete shut down

So he just sort of went back to town to continue his work and wait it out like everyone else

Then he gets an official invite to the palace 

It’s a dinner to thank him for saving your life

When he arrives he doesn’t even make it to the front door before you appear, running across the yard to greet him

You take him by surprise when you hug him, in broad daylight, in front of everyone

But he quickly returns it

“You know, my parents are very impressed by the man that saved my life... and took care of me my whole life”

You step back and grab his hands to lead him inside

But he tugs you back and stops you from walking further

“Um, your majesty, I need to tell you something,” he says softly

“Soonyoung, honestly, you saved my life, I think you can use my first name”

“What I need to say, your majesty, is that, I didn’t mean what I said that night. I truly care for you and every day without you was misery” 

You grin up at him, “I knew you didn’t mean it, I know you better than that. But that other stuff was a nice new touch”

He smiles down at you and allows you to lead him inside

The dinner is grand and your parents fill the time with praise for Soonyoung

Afterwards, they excuse Soonyoung but ask you to stay behind

He waits outside at your usual hang out spot

You sneak out to see him

You both beat around the bush with small talk for awhile as you start your usual walk around the palace grounds

“My parents have decided that if I get married, it should stay within the kingdom” you finally say

“Well, there are plenty of nobles to chose from,” he hums

“Actually my parents have decided that if we’re keeping it within the kingdom, rank does not matter as much. But that part doesn’t matter anyway, I believe they may have already found me a match”

“Oh... who is this match?”

“Well, he grew up close to the family. He knows the ins and outs of the palace. And he’s currently an apprentice and shows a lot of promise, at least in my parents opinion”

Soonyoung stops walking

You stop a few feet ahead of him, staring up at the moon

“And the best part is... I love him”

Soonyoung doesn’t think he’s ever felt happier

“And I would like to marry him, being that he loves me too”

Soonyoung rushes at you

He kisses you hungrily and practically pulls you up off the ground

“Of course I love you, [Y/N], I’ve loved you forever”

You grin, “I like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth”

“Well, [Y/N], you should know that I’ll happily marry you, and be with you always”

[the-hopeless-haze]

A Dwindling, Mercurial High

Pairing: Elliot Stabler/reader

A/N: Okay so I had a dream about Stabler the other night and he’s my original SVU crush (sorry Barba) and I had “Illicit Affairs” stuck in my head the whole day after so I had to write this. Thank you to @caked-crusader​ and @detective-giggles​ for encouraging my insanity lol!

Content Warning: NSFW due to sex. Brief mentions of cases that Elliot is working on. Infidelity.

The first time you met Elliot, it was because Dickie had a bad asthma attack and had to be hospitalized overnight. You were fresh out of nursing school, more anxious than confident, and it was a night from hell in that pediatric ward, maybe the worst you’d seen in the couple months since you’d started working. The charge nurse could only start one thing before she was asked to help with something else, two nurses called out and only one could cover, and everyone had at least a three-patient assignment. Suffice it to say tensions were high on that floor, and because Dickie wasn’t the sickest of your patients, you didn’t get to see him as often as you should have. Doing your best felt akin to doing nothing, and every time you came in the room, you apologized you hadn’t been able to come in fifteen minutes ago.

Elliot and Kathy told you it was okay and that they’d been through this before and knew what to expect. But it wasn’t really okay, you knew that. No one wanted to think that their nurse was too busy taking care of other sick children to pay attention to theirs.

Needless to say, you were far too busy that night to pay much attention to Elliot that night, but it wouldn’t be the last time you saw him, so maybe it didn’t matter. Still, sometimes you want to remember that glance that started everything because you have so little to hold onto.

You nearly have a heart attack the next week when your nurse manager says an NYPD detective needs to speak with you, and you nearly have another when you see Elliot’s face. You’ll remember the glance vividly this time; you look down at the linoleum hospital floor before finally sweeping your eyes across his face. He’s not mad; you can tell he’s the kind of man who’d let you know if he was angry, so you try to still your shaking hands.

“I just wanted to let you know Dickie’s doing a lot better,” he says, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Thank you.”

“Um, you’re welcome. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been more help—"

“Don’t beat yourself up, kid. It was a madhouse in here that night. Besides, I know it was you who got the doctor to switch his meds. They’re working a lot better now. He can actually sleep through the night.”

“Well, that’s great!” you say brightly, genuinely feeling a lot better about that night now. “Did you really come out all this way just to tell me?”

He chuckles, shakes his head. “No. I’m working. Victim’s getting a rape kit done here, so I thought I’d see if I could find you while I wait.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes widening. “What unit do you work on?”

“Special Victims. I’d say I hope I see you around, but I really don’t want my work to bring me to this floor.”

“Me neither. I sincerely hope I never see you again,” you say, smiling, and he smiles back, claps you on the shoulder and thanks you again before leaving.

“He was hot,” Tammy, your best friend on the ward, says as she comes over. “And he came back to see you. Maybe you should ask him out?”

“Well, he’s married,” you laugh. “All the DILFs are. Wives don’t wanna let that go.”

And you really thought that was that. You did have your fair share of DILFs come through that floor, and on slower shifts you’d fantasize about what it would be like to be the other woman, especially when couples would argue to the point of tears. Sure, tensions were always high when children were ill, but those screaming matches were always the result of a more systemic issue within their relationship. Some marriages were destined to fall apart, and sometimes it was exhilarating to dream about being the catalyst, even if you’d never actually act on it. No harm done in imagining yourself with a man you’d only see once in your life.

But you’d see Elliot again in a few months when his job did in fact bring him to your floor. He’s accompanied by a brunette woman, who you later learn is his partner, Olivia. You have no idea how they do their jobs. Sick kids you could handle, but children that had been abused, that were put into that hospital bed, not by the hands of a virus or disease process but by the hands of an adult... it was enough to turn your stomach. But now, at least, you had a direct line to call whenever you thought something iffy was going on between a family, as Elliot gave you his card. He said he trusts your judgment. You tried to suppress your heart fluttering. You’re too young to be having palpitations, but you can’t help staring at him longingly the whole time he’s there talking to the doctor, and you hope neither he nor Olivia notices. He just cared so much, and there’s nothing that gets the ovaries into action like seeing a man that protective over children.

You have to realize, though, that he was just being nice, and he just wanted another set of eyes out there to make sure no one got away with hurting children. You were all too happy to fill that role, anyway. It was a noble one. It had nothing to do with you specifically, and you had to be okay with that.

But fate is a funny thing, because even though you dated around throughout the next couple years, even though you had plenty of other things to occupy your time... Elliot always came back into your life somehow. Just when you thought you forgot about him, it seemed like he was waltzing onto your floor, or, god forbid, there was a child’s family you wanted him to speak to and make sure was alright.

Most times he came empty-handed and almost every time he came with Olivia, but on occasion, he’d show up by himself and with two coffees. And you grew up a little in those couple of years, even if you never grew past harboring your little crush on Elliot. You lost your anxiety that came with being a fledgling nurse and enrolled in a nurse practitioner program. You had your heart broken a few times and you broke a few hearts of your own. You moved out of your parent’s apartment and got your own place.

As for Elliot? Those years didn’t treat him as kindly. He wasn’t growing up as much as he was going down. Kathy wanted to leave him, he felt like he was losing touch with his kids, and his career path only fueled the anger that gnawed at him day after day and night after night. How the hell did his life get this fucked?

Of course, you weren’t privy to this information until he punched a hospital wall. It was a long night, and one of the children he rode on the ambulance with didn’t make it. You were upset, too, of course, even though he wasn’t your patient, and you couldn’t wait to get out of here and cry over a bottle of wine. But when Elliot’s fist connected with the wall, you knew your night was going to end much differently.

“(Y/n)! Are you busy? I need you to take your cop friend out of here. We don’t want the parents seeing that. Go! Clean up his hand and make sure he’s billed for that wall,” the doctor barks at you. “You gonna move?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it, Doc,” you murmur, but you’re frozen in place at the nurse’s station. You can’t help staring at Elliot as he steps out of the room, with his chest heaving, his hand bloodied, his blue eyes ablaze. Eventually, your legs cooperate with you again, and you nod at him, motioning for him to follow you down the hallway. You grab some gauze and alcohol from the supply closet on the way and lead him into an empty room, taking his hand in yours. “Can you make a fist for me? I need to see if it’s broken.”

Elliot doesn’t say anything; he barely even looks at you, but he does as you ask.

“Okay. Good. You're just gonna be a little sore. You can relax it now. The alcohol is going to sting—“

“I know,” he says hollowly.

“I’m sorry. You’re the oldest patient I’ve had since I was in school,” you say, feeling your face flush as you grab the alcohol and wipe his knuckles. "This isn't the first time you've attacked a wall, then, hm?"

Elliot shoots you a withering look and you swallow thickly. Was he going to yell at you now? Thankfully, he sighs and the anger in his eyes fades. "Listen. I'm sorry you had to be here for that.”

"It's alright. I've seen worse. And I know it's tough, Elliot," you say. "Everyone handles grief differently."

"It ever get any easier for you?"

"No," you whisper, letting your hair fall in front of your eyes so he can't see them well up with tears as you lean over to bandage his hand. "Guess it never does. I don't get angry; I just get depressed. You don't want to get desensitized to it, though. I'd rather see people punch walls than not care."

Your breath catches in your throat as he pushes your hair back with his good hand, and he keeps it there on the side of your cheek. All this time, in the four years of knowing this man, and he'd never touched you like this. Come to think of it, you never exactly stood this close to him, either. Your relationship was always professional, despite all the times you wished it wasn't. Wasn't there a reason you two kept ending up in the same rooms? Wasn't there a reason you ended up in this one, alone? And you could get drunk off his scent, couldn’t you? The slight musk of sweat from his earlier exertion, the woodsy headiness of his cologne, the hint of spearmint on his breath from his mouthwash... it was all too much, and it’s all you have in you to not lean into his touch, to not lean over and press your mouth to his...

“Elliot—“

"Don't talk," he murmurs. "Unless you want to stop me. Do you?”

You wouldn’t dare.

When your lips finally do connect, it's electric, even though the only thing running through the back of your mind is how you'd probably be fired if anyone stepped into the room at this moment. You can't very well deny yourself what you've been wanting on and off for years, though, even if it’s wrong. His hands grab your waist and yours find purchase on his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex underneath you as he moves you to straddle his thigh. You have to try very hard not to search for that friction your whole body aches for, not yet, not when you don’t know how far he wants to take this and when you’re still on the clock.

“When do you get off?” he asks, and you both chuckle at the unintended double-entendre.

“At eleven.”

“Come have a drink with me.”

“I don’t want a drink. I want to continue this,” you purr, getting off his lap to fix the bandage and tape it down.

“You sure?”

“Elliot, I thought you’d never ask me. I would’ve been sure four years ago,” you say, feeling slightly guilty at that, but it was true. The more you saw of him without his wife and children the easier it was to forget that they were the reason you met him in the first place. And if at any time he kissed you like that? You know you’d be putty in his hands just like you were now. “You don’t need to go back to the precinct?” You don’t dare ask about home. Selfishly, you don’t want that to cross his mind.

“I’ll be back here by eleven.”

It���s another breathless kiss before you’re out the door, heading back to finish your shift.

“The hell are you all red for, (y/n)?” Tammy asks as you round the corner.

“Nothing,” you say. “Just ran up here. You need anything?”

“Ran up here? Weren’t you taking care of... oh. You’re playing with fire, girl,” she says, smirking.

“Shut up,” you say, but you can’t force your cheeks to cool down. “Nothing happened.”

“Mm. Be careful. He’s still married, isn’t he?”

You wouldn’t listen. You were only after chasing that high, even if it was only born to die in front of your eyes. —- You’re straining against your handcuffs, and you can’t see Elliot at all through the blindfold, but you can feel his hands and his mouth, hot and heavy, touching you everywhere. You have no clue where to focus, and you still can’t quite believe he’s here in your apartment. Part of you expected him to stand you up and realize that he should be going home instead of taking you to bed. But he either didn’t have that epiphany or he didn’t care - and you were desperate enough for him that you’d take either - and so began your first illicit meeting.

“I told you to stop pulling at those, baby,” Elliot says, his tone stern. “You’re going to make yourself bleed.”

“Maybe if you gave me what I wanted, I wouldn’t have to—“

He cuts you off with a firm kiss, and you can feel his cock hard against your thigh, and not being able to see only heightens the sensation. “You gonna give me attitude, baby? I don’t think so. Why don’t you relax? I’m gonna take care of you. Gonna take my time though. Been four years of seeing your ass in those tight scrubs and not being able to do fucking anything about it.”

“You noticed me…. Like that?”

“You think I’d be here if I didn’t? Don’t act innocent now. You know what you do to me.”

Of course, you had noticed him looking at you sometimes, but you never let yourself read into it, but now, everything was coming back to you and… oh, fuck, finally he slips two fingers into your entrance and you’re drawn out of your thoughts, arching your back as he drags his fingers across your walls, painstakingly slow.

“You’re fucking soaking, baby girl,” he grunts. “You think you can take three? Mm. Gonna stretch you out a little.”

His bandaged hand comes to still your hips and you can’t believe he’s fucking you this good with his non-dominant hand, his thumb flicking against your clit every so often, those little shocks of pleasure bringing you closer to the million little deaths you deserved. Sometimes you’d feel his mouth where you’d least expect it, too, his tongue licking a trail up your stomach to take your nipple in his mouth or his teeth and tongue working on leaving a mark on your collarbone.

“Please. So close, El,” you pant, rolling your hips in vain.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it, come on, let go, baby,” Elliot growls in your ear. “Just let go.”

And you do, falling apart with his name on your lips before he kisses you again, swallowing down all your moans and whimpers, his hands leaving your lower body to find purchase in your hair.

“You good?” he asks, barely pulling away from your mouth.

“So good,” you gasp, straining upward to press your lips to his again.

“Gonna fuck you now, baby, that okay?”

“More than okay.”

You’re so wet he doesn’t meet much resistance, but you’re still sensitive from your orgasm so soon before, and combined with the fact that you can’t see or touch him - it was almost too much at once.

“Oh fucking hell,” Elliot grunts. “You good?”

“Yes. Please start fucking moving,” you whine. “Fuck me hard.”

You can tell he needs that; he needs to let go of all his pent-up anger and frustration, and you didn’t really care if at the expense of that you couldn’t walk tomorrow. You’d do anything, anything for just the chance to occupy a sliver of his life.

And God, once given permission, he doesn’t hold back at all. He sets a brutal pace, the bed shaking and moving in tandem with the force of his thrusts. You can’t see him, obviously, but you can feel the weight on the bed shift and his angle change as he grips the headboard, driving into you so roughly you think you might black out. He starts grunting softly with every thrust, and then, oh - you feel him move back down, his lips catching yours and his hands cupping your breasts and it’s all you can do to fight with your body not to come yet; you want to come with him, experience this high together.

“Fuck, (y/n), so good,” he groans, his tongue running over the bruise he’d sucked onto your skin earlier, and you whimper in response. “So fucking good for me, taking my cock so good. Knew you’d be fucking amazing.”

If his dirty talk wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, well, he adjusts his angle with a particularly strong thrust of his hips and you’re pulling on the handcuffs again, the sting as they slice into your wrists a sharp contrast to the impending pleasure - if you could just hold on - and thankfully, Elliot’s panting brusquely in your ear that he’s close, that you should let go again. Coming together is a beautiful euphoria - one that was desperately needed after the night you had, after the four years of longing stares that neither of you, apparently, knew was reciprocated until now. But like the end of all highs, you have to come down at some point. Elliot lifts the blindfold and looking into his eyes for the first time since he stripped you naked, you can’t help but feel like a fucking mess. But you know you’d do it again, and again, and again...

“I told you not to pull at those,” he tsks, leaning over to unlock the handcuffs and free your wrists. “You’re bleeding, (y/n).”

And, like some bad deja vu, Elliot’s cleaning your wounds with alcohol like you did for him only hours prior.

And after, he stays and talks with you a little, mentions vaguely his marriage is going downhill, which you could have easily figured out yourself, and when you wake up in the morning, he’s gone without a trace. You had to expect that he couldn’t stay, and you wonder what lie he fed his wife. You wonder if she believed it. Was this just a one time thing? Maybe you just both needed to get this out of your system, as almost half a decade of sexual tension needed to be dealt with somehow.

But no. Like always, you see him again, and on most occasions, now, he ends up tangled in your bedsheets. It feels like you’re always competing with other women for Elliot’s attention, whether it be Kathy or Olivia. But you take solace in the fact that you’re the only one he’s going to fuck like this. Olivia’s his partner, and that relationship is already too close for comfort to bring sex into. And if he came home with handcuffs and a blindfold to his wife, she’d drag his ass to therapy. You’re the only woman in his life that he can use for this, and that thought alone could get you high, could get you off. And sometimes, that feels like all he’s using you for, a sense of release for the moments when he doesn’t want to be at home and he can’t be at work. But other times - he lets you in, tells you jokes, tells you stories - and in some ways you’ve never felt this close to another person. He played such a different role in all the other areas of his life - but with you - he didn't have to play one, and sometimes you caught a glimpse of the man he was before all his burdens were placed onto his shoulders. You know you’ll never have a relationship like this with anyone else.

And for that reason, you’ll always answer the phone when he calls, even if you ruin yourself every time. You would for him. You always would for him.

[cycat-carisi]

I hate to inundate you with requests, but HC for the first time Sonny sees reader interacting with a child? Maybe didn't see her as a romantic prospect before, but that melts his heart. Thank you!

Don't apologize!! I'm happy to do these!! Thank you for sending this in 🥰

And as if we could ever get enough Uncle Sonny, here's some more to make up for last week's cut scene. 😘

(Not sure if this was the 'first' time per say, but one that likely sealed the deal.)

---

You've known Sonny for years now - well, you've known Bella for years and, as a result, the whole Carisi clan too.

Bella and you had become friends in high school, having a relationship that wasn't based on popularity or the ability to keep up with the fashion trends. Instead, you were mutually supportive, even helping Bella through the tough times with Tommy. And you were there for her too when her little daughter came into the world.

So it was no surprise that Momma Carisi treated you like one of her own, and as it were, Bella often invited you over for those tasty Carisi feasts. Tonight was one of those nights.

"Bella!" hollers the Carisi matriarch from the kitchen.

"Coming, Ma!" the blonde yells back. Dinner was still being perfected and Mrs. Carisi needed an extra set of hands. "Would ya mind keeping an eye on her?" asks your friend, placing a hand tenderly atop her daughter's hair. "Tommy should be here soon -"

"Not a problem," you smile. "You know I always enjoy spending time with my little peanut!" Upon seeing Bella's first ultrasound picture, you couldn't help but point out the resemblance to the legume and, well, the nickname just kind of stuck.

The little girl looks up from her toys at the sound of your voice and grins at you. Her mother mouths a thank you before running off to the kitchen.

"Hey, peanut. You know what?" you begin enthusiastically.

The girl's eyes light up. "What!"

"I brought you a present!" You reach for your bag beside the couch and pull out a book.

"Story! Story!" the toddler claps excitedly and hauls herself onto the couch beside you.

She nestles in and with one arm around her, you begin to read to her. It's not a long book, mostly colorful illustrations, but your little peanut is absolutely enthralled.

"The end," you conclude, giving the girl a gentle hug. But that's when you notice that you have an audience.

Leaning against the archway of the living room with legs crossed and arms lightly folded is Bella’s brother.

"Hi, Sonny," you greet the detective, but his demeanor is different from how he usually appears. His eyes look soft and a gentle smile plays upon his lips.

He straightens and makes his way to a lazy boy across from you. "You're really great with her, ya know."

Bella's daughter has taken the book into her own lap and is rexamining every illustration. "Well, she's a good girl."

"Yeah, I know, but not many people have the patience t'sit n' read t'someone else's kid." Sonny's voice is tender as he speaks to you.

"Children need that sort of attention from adults. And I really do enjoy it." You begin to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Why did you feel so nervous all of a sudden? Bella had imposed a strict "no hots for my friends" policy on Sonny when they were thirteen so you'd never paid much attention to what he thought of you. But now, he was sitting there with this look of adoration on his face; his hair neatly styled with a cozy sweater hugging his shoulders and torso.

Suddenly, Bella's daughter looks up from her book. "Unca Sonny! Look! Look!" She slides off the sofa and pads over to him, book in hand.

"Wow!" he says, eyes widening and brows raising. "Are ya gonna read it t'me, sweetie?"

"No!" she giggles, "but she will!" The tot spins around and points a little finger at you. Sonny's gaze follows and locks onto yours. His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Yeah?" he looks away shyly before flashing those baby blue back to you. "I'd like that."

A genuine smile spreads across Sonny's face and you can't help but smile in return, a warmth spreading through your chest.

---

Tag list: @barbasbodaciousbeard @teamsladsandgents @adarafaelbarba @caracalwithchips @averyhotchner

Send me HCs here if you'd like 🙂

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Twenty-Seven - Footsteps

Before you start:

This work is unbeta'd and English is not my first language. I apologize in advance for any mistakes you may find.

Victor sighed in relief as he placed his keys on the plate in the hallway, finally finding himself at home after a terrible day at work. It had been meeting after meeting, barely having time for lunch, his phone ringing off the hook, numerous emails waiting for him when he dared to look at his inbox.

To add insult to injury, his day wasn't exactly over. Victor couldn't wait to lie on his sofa and simply enjoy the evening nursing a glass of brandy with his wife in his arms, but he would have to spend it on his study instead, all alone, to attend a conference call with the team in Paris, who was in a different timezone.

His bad mood was somewhat eased with the aroma of delicious food being cooked, his heart taking solace in the sound of his wife and son's voices bantering in the kitchen. At least he was finally home, he comforted himself. For the time being, he would indulge in a hot relaxing shower and a nice dinner with his family.

Owen was always the first to notice when Victor or Andrea arrived, and as usual, he was the first to greet him, running to his arms. Although Victor had been feeling back pain pretty much all day, a customary symptom when he was overly stressed, such was immediately forgotten the moment he had his son in his arms. With heartfelt laughter, Victor threw the boy in the air, having him land safely in his arms with a very tight hug. And just like magic, Victor immediately felt better. His family was all he needed to recover from that awful day and get back on his feet to face another battle.

"What is your mother up to?" Victor asked, playfully disheveling the boy's red curls.

"She's in the kitchen, making dinner. I helped." He beamed at his father. "It's Mom's special fish and shrimp stew."

Bouillabaise, one of his favorites. Comfort food was exactly what he needed. Putting the boy down, Victor moved to the kitchen to find his wife minding the large pot on the stove. He hugged her from behind, his chin leaning on the top of her head.

"Hello, handsome." She turned her head to look at him.

"Hmm." He groaned, burying his face in the nape of her neck, taking comfort in her scent and the softness of her skin.

"Long day?" She reached back to run her fingers through his hair, slightly scratching his scalp, making Victor almost purr in delight.

"Hmmmm." He moaned, too entertained with how she was making him feel to form a proper answer.

"You’re tense." She declared as she reached back to feel his shoulders.

"Just a little tired." His arms circled her waist, as she turned to him.

"Dinner will be ready in 10." She spoke while she continued to work on the knots of his shoulders. "Get yourself out of that suit and have a shower. We got it covered here."

She playfully hit him in the chest, pushing him away from her. As revenge, Victor stole a kiss, a soft sweet kiss that made her sigh when he broke it. Feeling smug with her reaction, he left Andrea to her own devices, heading for the bedroom. A steamy shower definitely sounded very good. Despite Andy's massage, his shoulders still felt sore.

"Owen has some news for us today." His wife declared at the dinner table, winking at their son.

"Let's hear it." Victor lifted his eyes to his son, giving him his undivided attention.

"Next week it will be Career Day at my school." Owen said, excited. "They want us to bring one of our parents to class for Show and Tell, to explain to our classmates what they do for a job."

"What an excellent initiative." Victor nodded in approval, reaching for his glass of wine. "You could ask your mother, she will have a lot to talk about, between her study and LCG."

Owen didn't reply, looking down instead.

"I'm not the only option on the table here." His wife intervened. "You could go."

"Nonsense, you are clearly the best option." Victor retorted. "You could bring the GESA award to show the kids, talk about the study, your work at LCG, how your ideas may change the economy as we know it. Besides, you are practically their size. I bet they will find that both amusing and inspiring." He teased.

His wife was glaring at him, probably not happy with his witty remark.

"I think your mother should go, Owen." Victor concluded, trying to diffuse the tension his joke caused. "I'm sure she will do an excellent job."

"Would you mind coming, Mom?" Owen mumbled, looking down.

"Of course I wouldn't, Bug. It will be my pleasure." She caressed the boy's hair lovingly, a hint of sadness in her smile.

Victor watched both of them, somewhat intrigued. Why were both so morose? Weren't they happy with his suggestion?

"May I be excused?" Owen placed his napkin on the table. "I need to feed my ants."

"You may." Victor smiled. "By the way, how is the colony going?"

"Well." Owen left the kitchen without any other word.

Victor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. When it came to his ant colony, Owen was usually a lot more talkative.

"What's the matter with him?" He almost whispered to his wife. "Did something else happen at school?"

"You are a clueless idiot." Andrea threw at him, irritated.

"What!? Why? What did I do?"

"Don't you think that if he wanted me to go, he would have asked me already?" She scolded him. "He wanted to invite you, and you shot him down before he had a chance."

"Me? You are obviously the best choice, why would he want me?"

"Because you are his father, you big moron!" She almost yelled, carefully adjusting her tone after. "Look, you are his father figure, his male example, the one that he looks up to. He never really had anything like that before. This is important for him, he finally has a father he can be proud of. Basically, he wants to show you off to his friends. God only knows why, you’re an idiot in a suit."

For a brief moment, Victor recalled the moment he sought out for his father's attention and approval, only to be met with closed doors and reprimands on how children shouldn’t waste an adult's time with trivialities. He remembered how much it hurt him to be ignored, to not be important, to be treated like a nuisance. Victor refused to let his son go through the same thing, but most importantly, he refused to be the one making Owen feel like that.

"I see."

"Finally. Now go fix it." She urged.

He found the boy sitting with his legs crossed on the floor, staring absentmindedly at his ant farm. He could see himself at that very same age, and almost guess what was going through his son's mind. Owen was probably blaming himself for not being interesting enough, trying to find a way to make his father notice him.

Victor sat silently on the bed, waiting for Owen to acknowledge his presence. The boy looked at him with sad brown eyes, deep and dark, making the freckles on his nose stand out.

"Is it bedtime yet?" Owen asked, getting up from the floor.

"No, I just wanted to have a word with you."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Do we only talk when you're in trouble?" Victor couldn't help but feel slightly offended. "Sit beside me."

Owen obeyed, sitting next to his father, an expectant look on his face. Victor took a moment to think about how he would approach the subject. He couldn't tell the boy about the conversation he just had with his mother.

"Maybe we made a hasty decision regarding who is coming to Career Day."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I did say your mother was the best choice. However, after careful consideration, I think I may be a very interesting choice as well. I mean, I know most of your friends from playing soccer in the park, I'm fairly popular already. One could even say I'm... cool."

"You want to go?"

"That is for you to decide. But I would be honored if you’d take me."

"I was going to ask you." Owen confessed. "I even asked Mom if that would hurt her feelings, and she said she would be happy if I chose you."

"Why didn't you say so, then?"

"Because I know you are very busy, especially now that you are opening that new business in France. I overheard Mom scolding you the other day for not getting enough sleep. I thought you were saying Mom could go because you were too tired. And if you are too tired, it's selfish of me to ask."

Victor smiled at the little boy as he pulled him into his lap. He was barely five, and he could be so considerate. He playfully poked his little freckled nose.

"Even if that was the case, even if I was too tired, I would still go. You know why?"

The boy shook his head.

"Because I love you." Victor replied in a soft voice. "You are my son, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Small arms wrapped around Victor's neck in a tight hug. And the sweetest voice spoke the sweetest words.

"I love you too, Dad. Thank you for doing this, it will be so cool!” He jumped excitedly. “I can already imagine what my classmates will say about the cool things you do at work! Do you know what you will bring to your presentation? Megan's father is a trainer at the zoo, she says he may bring a parrot!"

Victor's stomach turned cold. Only at that moment did he realize what he truly agreed on.

The task sounded fairly simple: to explain his job to a room full of five-year-olds. It turned out, it was a lot harder than he expected.

His job entailed many complicated concepts, like risk assessment and profit analysis, and had big words like enterprise value, equity, and horizontal integration. Those things were already hard enough to explain to a child, but worse than that, they were boring. He had to make his job look interesting, and although it would be fairly easy to seduce an adult by showing profit, children didn't respond to money. He had to make it entertaining, and simple. Yet, he had no idea how. Nothing about his job would seem entertaining to a child.

But then one day, while running, he recalled his Economics teacher’s words from one of his lectures: Economy has existed since primitive times, where things were much simpler, and an economic transaction meant trading meat for animal skin or a cutting tool. The act of trading baseball cards during recess could be considered an economic transaction. To explain it, he would just have to trade the fancy terms for things children could relate to.

Finally, he had a plan. A good one. That didn't mean he wasn't nervous.

“Do you want to call Mom and tell her to come instead?” The boy asked from the backseat as they were driving to school.

“What? No, I’m fine.” Victor gripped the wheel tighter, trying to steady himself.

“Are you sure?” Victor saw his boy frown from the rearview mirror. “You look like you have a tummy ache.”

Did he? He immediately relaxed his face, trying to remain expressionless.

“Mom told me you would be like this.” Owen smiled with a knowing look. “She told me to tell you that you just need to use the charm you used on her.”

Yes, Victor could do that, he had some good moments with Andrea. Well, apart from the interview, and when her car broke down, with the heavy rain and... nipples. And being so embarrassed he could barely speak. The memory only made him more nervous.

He marched bravely into school with a box full of containers with cherries and a bag full of lollipops. Owen was exhilarated to have his father with him, jumping happily in the halls, showing him every piece of art he had made that was on display. Victor, on the other hand, was sweating from nervousness, hoping the AC in Owen's classroom was freezing cold. The teacher jumped on the spot when she saw him.

“Mr. Lee?” She came to him hurriedly, looking puzzled when she saw Victor place the containers in one of the empty desks. “The Principal didn’t tell me you were visiting. By the way, where is he? Are you here unattended? Is this about a fund or something? How can I help you?”

“I’m here for Career Day. We still haven’t had the pleasure to meet.” Victor extended his hand to the teacher. “I’m Victor Lee, Owen’s father.”

“Owen, you didn’t tell me your father was Victor Lee!” She looked down on the boy, flushed.

“I told you my father was a CEO.” Owen quipped, frowning slightly.

“Well, still, how would I know it was Victor Lee?”

“My name is Owen Lee.”

The teacher fanned herself, eyeing Victor with a weird smile.

“Mr. Lee, I know that our installations aren’t quite what you are used to, but I hope you do feel welcome.”

“I’m sure they will do perfectly, thank you.”

Victor was wrong. The chairs were too small for an adult, especially one of his stature. However, standing up was also not an option, as he would be beside Owen and he would block the view, so he had no choice but to sit on the tiny chair, with his legs awkwardly crossed, looking like an idiot.

Megan's father was the first, and he did bring the parrot, making him do all kinds of tricks. The children and the teacher laughed at the animal's shenanigans, and Victor couldn't help but feel disheartened, knowing this presentation would be very hard to top.

Then came Caleb's mother, who was a physician. She taught the kids the many functions of the main organs in the human body, bringing with her a kidney in a jar. The class was rowdy as they passed the jar around, amazed to be able to see a real kidney, like the ones they had in their very small bodies.

"Next we have Owen's father, Mr. Lee, a very successful entrepreneur in Loveland. He will talk about his job as a CEO of an investment company." The teacher announced.

Victor faced the twenty children in front of him, who were looking at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to start. In almost 15 years of being a CEO, he had attended important meetings with notorious businessmen, oil tycoons, rulers and politicians. He had dinner meetings with the mafia and other shady characters, people that held incredible power and precious information, but could also kill him without a second thought.

He could conclude, without a shadow of a doubt, that children were scarier.

For a second he wished he could be like Andrea. She would know what to do. She would probably greet the children with a goofy gesture, making them all laugh. She was fun and witty, she knew what children liked. Victor paused, remembering his wife’s words through his son’s mouth. He could be funny too, he always made her laugh, it had become one of his favorite hobbies. Maybe she was right. Maybe he could do this. With a new sense of confidence, and with a side note to thank his wife for her encouraging words, Victor approached his audience.

“Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen.” He started, ceremoniously. “First of all, I would like to thank you for your time and attention, and the honor of your invitation. My name is Victor Lee, and I’m the CEO of Loveland Financial Group.”

Encouraged by their teacher, all the children applauded.

“Before I begin to explain exactly what I do, let me start with a question. Who knows what an investor does?”

All the children were quiet until a little girl spoke.

“Is it someone who goes to the market and screams ‘Buy! Buy!’ and ‘Sell! Sell!’?

“You mean the stock market?” Victor chuckled. “Yes, it can be, although there are many kinds of investments. At LFG, what we do is help companies grow by lending them money, which they pay us, but with interest. Does anyone know what interest is?”

Many kids raised their hands.

“Is it when things aren’t boring? Like, they are interesting?”

“Ha. No.” Victor forgot that the words would have a different meaning to five-year-olds. “For example, someone asks LFG for ten dollars. The company lends it but asks in return for eleven dollars. That extra dollar is the interest.”

“That’s not very nice.” A freckled boy raised his hand. “Sharing is caring.”

Victor felt himself blush slightly. The boy had made a perfectly logical remark that unfortunately didn’t fit in the financial world. And he didn’t have the faintest clue on how he could explain it better.

“It is nice, because my dad doesn’t just give the money. My mom and dad work with the companies to help them grow, and they get to keep the tools she gives them forever. My dad gives them the money and asks for more because he also helps them get better.” Owen chimed in, basically saving him. Although it wasn’t exactly accurate, it wasn’t wrong either. Victor couldn’t be more proud.

“That is correct and beautifully worded, Owen, thank you.” He smiled at his boy. “Now, to fully understand the kind of work that a CEO of an investment company does, I would like to invite you all to be, for ten minutes, CEOs.” He ceremoniously declared. “Owen, could you help distribute the boxes and the candy to your friends?”

Owen quickly obliged, and in a moment, all the kids had with them a box of cherries and a lollipop.

“Ok, imagine you are the CEO of an investment company-”

“What is the company called?” The freckled boy asked again. Victor suppressed a sigh of exasperation.

“Whatever you want to call it. It’s your company.”

“Can I call it Unicorn?” A little girl raised her hand.

“Yes, you can. Now…”

“Can I call it Wayne Enterprises? Do you think I could be Batman?”

Victor’s memory took another trip down memory lane, to the day his wife blackmailed him into making that ridiculous Batman recording. He felt his cheeks getting slightly warmer. Luckily, the teacher intervened.

“Alright class, it’s nice to see you this excited but we need to let Mr. Lee speak, alright?”

“Thank you. So, as I was saying, imagine you are in a meeting, as CEOs, and two different companies are asking for investment: a lollipop factory and an orchard that grows cherries. You can pick only one. Which one would you pick? Place your hand on your choice.”

Every single child, except for one, held their lollipops. He turned to the girl that picked the cherries.

“Interesting choice. Why would you invest in the cherry producer?”

“Because I want to invest in a company that makes a lot of money. Cherries are more expensive than lollipops.”

Victor smiled at her insightfulness. She was probably a CEO in the making.

“True, but cherries only grow in the spring, that’s why they are more expensive. The candy factory can make lollipops all year.” He retorted. “You still think the orchard makes more money than the candy factory?”

“Yes, because my mom will let me have cherries but won’t buy me candy.” A boy chimed in, and other children agreed.

“Demand, very good, we need to see what sells best. What else would you use to make a decision?” Victor was excited, watching the proverbial wheels turn in their little heads. “What does it take to produce each of the products?”

“You need a factory to make lollipops. In an orchard, you just need to water the trees.”

“Very well, and you need sugar, and flavors and other ingredients, while in the cherries’ case, is given for free by nature. So, have we decided on the orchard?”

“Yes!” They screamed in unison.

“Seems like we have a unanimous decision. And for the record, what we just did here is a very simplistic version of a risk assessment, a study every investor needs to make to know if the investment is worthwhile. Of course, there are other things I do as a CEO, but I can’t possibly describe them in such a short time.” He paused for a moment, all the children’s eyes on him. “Does anyone have any questions before we finish?”

“Are all CEOs men?” A girl asked from the back.

“Of course not. Women can be CEOs too, my wife is a CEO from a different company. And if you ask me, she’s more successful than I am.” He made a silly face, and all the children laughed.

He couldn’t believe it was going so well.

“Anything else?”

“My father says businessmen are dicks in a suit.” A boy declared, while his father looked like he was close to infarction.

“Timothy!” The teacher chastised.

“Well, I can tell you that can definitely be true in some cases.” Victor spoke wholeheartedly. “In any area, you can find good and bad professionals. But let me tell you all about the three qualities I feel a good CEO should have.” Victor raised his hand, lifting his fingers as he spoke. “Intelligence, resilience, and responsibility. Intelligence because we need to know where we stand at all times and make quick decisions, and they better be the right ones, or else we can lose our business. Resilience because the financial world is a fluctuating one, and everything may change in a blink of an eye. We must be resilient enough to embrace the change, and make it work in our favor. And lastly, responsibility, because as we invest, we are not only dealing with our money or a faceless company. We can change the world with our choices, allowing technology, health, and education to evolve so there is improvement in everyone’s lives. I personally invest only in companies where employees are treated with fairness, and environmental rules are respected. We need to put the power we hold to good use and make this world a better place. If we all understand the smallest of our actions can impact the world tremendously, I’m sure miracles will happen.”

“Well, that was brilliantly said.” The teacher cleared her throat, starting to clap. “A big applause to Mr. Lee, thank you for being with us today.”

Victor returned to the car with a smug smile on his face, and a sense of accomplishment he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He had done well, he had honored his son and made him happy. However, as he started the car to leave, he saw his son through the rearview mirror, lost in thought.

“Everything ok back there?” He frowned at the mirror. “Is there something upsetting you?”

“No, I’m ok.” The boy looked up.

“You’re happy?”

“Yes.” The boy smiled.

“I think the presentation went well.” Victor started the car. “Your friends seemed to like it.”

“Yes, it was fun! And we had candy and cherries as a snack, none of the other parents brought snacks.”

Victor smirked, adding that point to his mental scoreboard.

“So why the long face?”

Owen seemed to momentaneously return to his thoughts before he answered Victor’s question.

“I don’t think I want to be an entomologist anymore.”

Victor gave his son a knowing smile.

“I knew the parrot would interest you.”

“No, parrots are dumb!” Owen seemed slightly offended. “I want to be a CEO, just like you.”

Victor could remember himself, at the same age, saying the same thing to his father, to get his approval.

“Owen, you can be whatever you want to be. I will still support you, no matter what you decide.”

“Then you’ll teach me?”

Victor smiled widely, his heart filled with pride.

“I will teach you everything I know.” He was about to offer the keys to his kingdom, but then remembered how he refused the same from his father, wanting to make his own path.

The epiphany came suddenly, clearing his vision and the fear he couldn’t shake from his heart: he had traveled a different road from his father in so many ways. He was a present and loving husband, with a healthy relationship with Andrea. And he was a present and loving partner, caring and supporting his son in every step of his life.

And that meant so much more than being a powerful CEO. Those were the footsteps he wanted his son to follow. The ones that led to happiness.

Author's Note: This project has been going for a year now (it started in February 2020) and it won't be over any time soon, so I would like to ask you, as much as possible, for your support, because we still have a very long way to go. So, if you enjoy the work, don't forget to comment and reblog. It gives it traction and enables other people to learn about it, and for me to get more excited about what I do.

[petri808]

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Inukag AU

There was a genuine smile on Kagome’s face as she sat on her bed quietly while her family and friends did what they could to try and jog her memory. It was about 3 months since the accident and today the bed was littered with photo albums, old letters, newspapers from her college days that Sango had saved, or her mother pulled from her old bedroom, really anything they could think of to provide visuals. She didn’t want them to feel bad for her predicament, so thought it best to go along with it. They probably knew— she didn’t recognize any of it but bless them for playing along as she nodded or chuckled at appropriate times or patiently waited as she stared at certain items longer than she should have. Because Kagome really wanted to remember.

But in reality, all the words and images were viewed through a strangers lens. Yes, she recognized certain people, but not everyone or the situation in the photos. For Kagome, her last recollections end shortly after graduating college. She knew Sango since they’d been friends, but barely remembered Miroku. To her Miroku was still the boyfriend of less than a year, not a husband and certainly not a father to the couples 1 year old twin girls. Sango was her best friend, so to not remember the wedding or the birth of the twins who based on the photos were precious to her... hurt. There she was in those pictures holding one newborn in each arm, beaming at becoming an aunty, and no recollection of it.

“Tomorrow is the weekend, so we can video chat with Sota,” Mrs. Higurashi reminded her daughter. “I’ve been keeping him updated by text.”

“Where is he again?” Kagome asked.

“In Hawaii, at the University of Hilo.”

“Oh... right,” Kagome chuckled. “I forgot.”

“That’s okay, dear. Sota is in his senior year now and will be coming home in December after graduation.”

“I hope I’m well enough to fly there for the graduation.”

“I think you will be,” her mother smiled softly. “There’s always hope.”

Yeah... hope. It was the only thing keeping Kagome from breaking down. Each night as she drifted to sleep, she’d remind herself of the temporary nature of her condition. Truth or not, it was worth clinging to. Earlier her mother told her of how she’d flown to Hawaii to help Sota settle into his dorm. As the big sister, she was so proud of him, but again Kagome had no recollection of this event and only Hawaiian vacation pictures to prove its truth. Still, she was happy that her brother had grown up so much. The sense of pride she must have felt at the time was renewed in the new knowledge.

She didn’t remember a lot, but there were moments that brought tears to her eyes for more than one reason. Take the other day when Sango and Miroku brought the twins for a visit. The children remembered their Aunty Kagome and quickly reached out with their small hands to her. It brought out tears from the happy emotions such adorable faces could provoke in anyone, yet also tears of frustration for not knowing them at all. Clearly, they loved her, and she wanted to love them too. Bless them, showing concern for her tears, reaching out to Kagome’s face as if to soothe the adult. So, realizing her effect, she quickly smiled and told them she was just happy to see them.

“It’s still a little weird,” Kagome confided to Sango one day, “because my only memory of Miroku is of an annoying guy following you around while still checking out other girls.”

Sango laughed, “he still an annoying guy at times, but it’s true, he has settled down since those days.”

“What was it that finally changed your mind about Miroku?”

“Oh, um actually we’d had a fight... a really big fight over his behavior and I put my foot down. It was me or them because I wasn’t gonna put up with it anymore. I guess the proverbial slap to his face woke him up.”

Kagome chuckled. “It does appear to have worked. But it was obvious how much he loved you despite the stupid things he did.”

Sango nodded. “True. If I didn’t think so too, I would have just walked away and not looked back. Sometimes guys literally need a harsh wake up a call to realize what they’re about to lose.”

That made Kagome think about the supposed fight with Inuyasha on the night of her accident, because it resembled the predicament Sango went through. She frowned. “Why are guys like that?”

Sango shrugged. “If we ever found an answer to that question, we’d be rich.”

Kagome snorted a laugh. “Agreed. We could make money writing self-help books.”

The girls shared a laugh before moving on to other subjects, but as the day grew late, Kagome suddenly sank down on the bed. There was a question she’d been wanting to ask, and though Inuyasha would be the better one to ask, he was still a strangers in her eyes. At least with Sango, she knew she could trust her friend to tell her the truth.

“Before you go, Sango, I have something to ask about.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Could you tell me how I met Inuyasha? Tell me what you know about our relationship?”

Sango’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Hasn’t Inu told you anything?”

Kagome looked down. “He has told me things, but I— I still don’t know if I should trust him. I mean... I know my mom loves him and that tells me a lot, but it doesn’t change the fact he’s just a stranger at this point for me— it’s,” she shrugged, “awkward.”

“Oh... Guess I never thought of it that way.” Sango reached out and took her Kagome’s hand. “I’d be happy to answer your questions. It’s okay that it’s awkward, that’s understandable so don’t push yourself to accept things just to accept them, but even I would agree with your mom, he’s probably told you the truth.”

“You think so?”

Sango squeezed her friends hand and chuckled. “Yeah. I didn’t like him at first, but the guy really grew on me. Try it, test me,” she coaxed Kagome. “Ask me about something he told you and let’s see if my answers are the same.”

Kagome smiled and sat back for a moment in thought. “What’s something questionable...” she tapped her chin. “The first date he took me on was to a ramen restaurant. Which is not very romantic if you’re trying to woo someone. So, it sounds true and preposterous at the same time. He said he was so nervous that he accidentally spilled a drink on me. I wondered if he told me that just to be funny and endearing, but it never actually happened.”

“Oh,” Sango burst out laughing, “it definitely did happen! You’d told him to pick somewhere he loved to go and Inu’s favorite meal is ramen, so that’s what he picked. And the drink. It was a pink cocktail that stained your dress. You were so annoyed!” She giggled again. “But it was obvious how nervous he was, and I remember how you told me it was cute to see him get all flustered.”

“Oh, wow,” Kagome laughed too. “I guess I have to believe it now. Tell me more.”

“Hmm,” Sango pondered. “He was so nervous to even ask you out, Miroku had to ask you for him.”

“What?!” Kagome gasped and snorted a laugh. “And I’d still said yes?!”

“Yeah, because by then you liked him too. It took... if I remember correctly a year of interactions just for him to gain that much courage.” At that point Sango’s voice quieted. “I don’t know if he’s told you this part yet but, Inu was a broken person when you’d first met.”

“No, he hasn’t.” Kagome leaned forward with interest. “What do you mean?”

“At the time he’d already been broken up with Kikyo for 4 or 5 years I think, but he hadn’t fully moved on yet. I can’t say he still loved her. I think it was more just loneliness. His mother died when he was young as well. So, I think the combination of losing the two most important women in his life left him depressed.”

“Wow...”

“I knew him as Miroku’s brooding coworker, how my husband tolerated that I have no idea, but they were close friends. When we’d introduced you to him, things slowly began to change. You almost made it a mission to help him get out of it.” Sango chuckled lightly. “You know how you are, always trying to help people. At first, Inu resisted, but you didn’t let up and slowly but surely broke through his defenses. He became a puppy dog around you, totally head over heels in love.” She smiled. “It was fun and so cute for us to watch it all happen.”

“I wish I remembered any of this,” Kagome sighed.

“You will. You’ve never been a quitter, so I truly believe you will get your memory back.”

“Thanks, Sango. All of your guys help really means a lot to me.”

Sango reached out and hugged her friend. “I know you’d do the same for me.” She sat back in her chair. “It’s tough now, and I know you described Inuyasha as a stranger, but treat it as if you’re dating a new guy with all those heart racing, excitements that come with it. I see how you look at him.” She teased. “You must at least thinks he’s cute?”

Kagomes cheeks flushed pink. “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sango giggled and squeezed her friends hand. “If all you do is focus on this situation, you won’t start to live again. They’re releasing you to go home in a couple weeks, so have a little fun with him. Create some new memories.”

“Maybe you’re right... maybe I will try to think about it that way.” Kagome tips her head slightly. “It is kinda fun to feel those giddy girly emotions when I see him.”

Speaking of. The girls hear a knock at the door and turn to see Inuyasha walking in with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of take-out food. “Hey gorgeous and Sango.”

It set off another rush of heat to Kagome’s face. “Hi,” she squeaked out.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Sango stood up with a wink. “See you tomorrow.” She hugged her best friend and left the room.

Inuyasha took the seat beside Kagome and handed her the flowers. “How are you feeling today?”

“Mmm, it was good chatting with Sango.” She held the flowers up to her nose to smell them while keeping her eyes on him. “Thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful women deserve beautiful flowers,” he smiled back and held up a bag. “Hope you’re hungry. I brought dinner since hospital food must be getting boring by now.”

“Aww, that’s thoughtful of you, cause yes,” Kagome sighed, “it is.”

Inuyasha chuckled, then pulled out the containers of food. He handed Kagome a plate. “It’s salmon nitsuke.”

“Oh, yes!” Kagome almost moaned in delight as she opened the container and surveyed the food. “And it smells so delicious!” But before Inuyasha opened his container. “Wait! Let me guess what you got.”

“Okay?” Inuyasha chuckled.

“Ramen.”

Inuyasha’s eyes widened. “How?!”

Kagome giggled. “Sango told me it was your favorite.”

To her guessing was funny, but she didn’t expect the pained expression that instantly fell over Inuyasha’s face. It didn’t take her long to realize. “Oh my, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you think I got my memory back!”

“I-It’s okay, really,” he tried to reassure her. Yes, it hurt, but, “it’s nice to see you smiling and happy.”

“Are you sure? I’m really sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Kagome, it’s really okay.” He smiled with eyes clouded over. “You’ve been... stand-offish till now, so it makes me feel a lot better that you’re comfortable enough to joke with me again.”

“Yeah... about that... I’ve been talking with Sango and she’s been encouraging me to give you a chance. I do want... to take her advice, but...” her voice softened, “could I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“For me, this is all like meeting a new guy and, you know, the whole crush, dating steps, and such whereas for you, it’s different and must be frustrating.”

“If I’m being honest, yeah,” Inuyasha scratched his head, “it is, but I don’t know, also a bit exciting too, like a challenge, but a fun one if that makes any sense. I get to date you all over again— I-I mean if you’ll let me.”

“They’re releasing me soon, so I think...” Kagome’s cheeks flushed. “I’d love to go out on a date with you Inuyasha.”

“Whoo Hoo!” He pumped his fists in the air. “I feel like a teenager again,” Inuyasha laughed.

At that, Kagome giggled, her mood significantly lightened, and a weight lifted. It was the first step towards a sense of normalcy. Forget the fact she couldn’t remember a chunk of her past and live in the now where a handsome hanyo sat waiting.