#I know it's a complaint as old as time but honestly who just drops their litter in the street what the hell

[the-busy-ghost]

Not to whinge but can the next big Tik Tok trend PLEASE be putting your litter in the fucking bin and not dropping it in the street like a baby

[reiderwriter]

hi 💖 I’m literally ✨obsessed✨ with your writing atm and I’ve never done a request before so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity!!

I would love to read an established couple fic where reader drops by !professor spencer’s office and spicy times ensue 🌶️👀 the trope where reader is inexplicably jealous of the girls auditing his class gets me every 🤌 single 🤌 time 🤌 (but don’t feel like you have to include that trope!! I’m a sucker for any !professor spencer smut lmao)

- 🐺 anon

A/N: Thank you sm for your request!! I am also slightly unhinged about Professor Spencer (I think this is my second one this month lmao) so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: use of sir, degradation, fingering, no contraception, PinV sex, semi-public sex, jealous reader (she's like 27 beefing with undergrads), age-gap (15 years), Spencer keeps a souvenir of her visit 😊. Also I don't even know if American lecturers have office hours, so like... For context I am a European living in SK lmao. 18+ MINORS DNI

W/C: ~2k

Check out my masterlist!!

You’d lost count of how many times you’d visited Spencer in his office now that he’d started lecturing semi-regularly. The break from his regular activities as a member of the BAU suited him well, and you had no complaints either, loving having an excuse to drop by the college campus he was based on to visit the cute student-run coffee shops and explore the space. And since you’d started working from home while you wrote your novel, you definitely had the time to visit.

Usually, you’d find him in some lecture theatre or the other, but having walked around all his regularly scheduled rooms, he was nowhere in sight. You shrugged a little, figuring that he must be in his office if he was nowhere else. You were right, of course, but he wasn’t exactly alone.

A line of undergrads had formed at his door as you noticed the sign pinned to his door mentioned his updated office hours for the semester in the run-up to finals week. Typical. You were never the best-timed person, and you could see that you weren’t going to get his attention for a while from the look of all the students. You waited outside for him to open the door and summon the next student into his office, settling onto a couch opposite his door.

You weren’t trying to listen in to the multiple conversations going on, but you couldn’t help it when they were being so loud and open.

“God, he’s so fucking hot, I just want him to bend me over that desk and-”

“-wonder if he’s single. If he is, I’m totally going to make a move-”

“-I just know it’s big-”

“- in that lecture about the serial rapist, all I could think about was his hands-”

You blushed a little deeper with each of their confessions. They didn’t know who you were, of course they didn’t, and you sure as hell weren’t going to tell them. But now you knew why it was that they were here, and honestly, you couldn’t blame them for lusting after the man, you’d done the same thing. Your relationship had started in a similar way. You’d knocked on the doors of the FBI with a case back when you were a journalist, and been met with those big brown eyes and it had taken your entire strength to not jump him then and there.

So you understood. But you didn’t have to like it, and you certainly did not. The longer you sat there, the older you felt, constantly resisting the urge to yell at these kids in an old maid's way. Gods he was old enough to be some of these girls’ fathers. You weren’t exactly close in age with him yourself, a gap of about 15 years separating the two of you, but come on.

The door to his office finally cracked open, and you followed the sound of his voice, still rambling out facts as he let the student out.

“Now that you have the difference between stressor and trigger down, you’ll find it easier to interpret some of the readings, just keep in mind that sometimes they can be one and the same.” The student nodded and thanked him before leaving, a slightly disappointed look shadowing her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” His smile lit up the second he saw you, and you held out the coffee you’d bought him earlier to him.

“Thought I’d drop in and see you. I missed you.” Maybe it was petty of you in front of literal teenagers and people who couldn’t even legally drink yet, but you wrapped a hand around his waist, underneath his suit jacket, and looked up at him with a big grin, fluttering your eyelashes. He looked at you with knotted eyebrows, trying to decode your words as if they were the key to cracking a case he was working on.

You felt the eyes of the students burning into you, heard them whispering to each other and your grin deepened. You’d marked your territory successfully.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got office hours for the next 25 minutes, do you mind waiting?” He looked apologetically down at you, speaking with a bit of an awkward tone, not used to the notable PDA.

“That’s fine. I can wait out here, right?” You asked, trying to give him your most innocent look. He nodded his assent, and you returned to your seat, grabbing a book from your bag and settling in as he welcomed the next student to his office.

An hour later, all the students had finally dispersed. A fair few of them had given up after you made your identity known, embarrassingly slinking away from the queue, but a fair few had stuck it out, still just wanting a glimpse of him. The conversation had dimmed though, now back on the topic of college parties and TikTok stars or something.

When the final student slipped out of the office, you jumped up enthusiastically and joined Reid inside, letting yourself in with a small knock and a sing-song “professor.”

He was sat at his desk, glasses perched on his nose looking down at some papers, and looking as attractive as he had the day you’d met him. You slunk over to him, swirling his chair around so you could sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a deep kiss to his lips.

“What’s gotten into you today?” He asked, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him, obviously not objecting to the sudden physicality of your affection. “It’s not an anniversary, we’re only on our 1,813th day of dating which doesn’t mark any milestones or other special cultural holidays, so what gives.”

“You know I love it when you talk numbers to me.”

“You know I love it even more when you spill and tell me what’s going on? Come on, Y/N, something’s different.” You pouted at this goddamn superhuman perception. It was going to be embarrassing to admit that you saw the gaggle of girls that had been crowding around his office as competition.

“There were a lot of students today.” You said, simply changing the topic a bit, hoping you wouldn’t have to explicitly name the green-eyed monster that had taken over you.

“Not really, that’s about the amount I get every time I open office hours.”

“Every time?” He’d told you often that you were an absolutely open book, your facial expressions baring your every thought and feeling. So you cursed yourself at the pout you felt forming on your lips.

“Woah, what was that? Y/N, are you… are you jealous?”He laughed a little bit as your frown deepened, a flush coming up to cover your face.

“So what if I am?”

“Have I not been paying enough attention to you, baby?” He trailed his hand up between your thighs and your breath hitched as you felt the tone of the conversation immediately shift.

“They were talking about you, y’know?” your breath hitched at the last word, as his hand found its way to your clit, beginning to press the tiniest of circles around that nerve.

“Oh? What were they saying that made my princess so upset?” The hand gripping your hip was nearly painful now, as he clasped you tightly, letting your legs spread for him as he slowly picked up the pace, your back now flush against his chest as he looked down to between your legs from over your shoulder. Your head was thrown back against him, your chest rising and falling with every small movement.

“They were talking a-about your hands,” you moaned out. His eyes stayed fixed on your center, but his free hand trailed up to your blouse, popping a few buttons expertly so he could see the rise and form of your chest, see your nipples sticking out through the thin bra you’d chosen that morning.

“Hmm, is that it baby? They just talked about these hands?” He continued at his agonizing pace on your clit as his hand lifted to your nipples, pulling one breast free of your bra and beginning to roll it between his fingers. You writhed at the touch, trying desperately to keep quiet, knowing from your time outside just how thin these walls were.

“Baby, I think you didn’t hear me. Was that all they said?” His tone was darker now, and you knew you had to answer before he made you.

“No!” You moaned out, trying to gain back some composure when all you wanted to do was relax into his hands and let him pull your release from you. “They… they said they knew you were big… Down there.” He laughed a little at that and shifted his hips underneath you.

“And are they correct baby?” You feel him pressing against your leg now and it takes everything in you not to let your eyes roll back in pleasure and let him use you as he wants.

“Yes, sir. They were… they were right, you always fill me up so good.” Your hips start grinding down into his, his hand stilling as you use him to get yourself off.

“There’s something else they said, right, baby? You’re holding something back?” He smiled, dropping hot open-mouthed kisses to your neck as you frantically rubbed yourself up against him. Your moans were ripping out from your mouth now in frustrated moans, as you felt needy in a way you’d never quite experienced before.

“Stop teasing, Spencer.”

“No. This is my office, and you come in draping yourself all over me like a whore in front of all of my students. You don’t get to call me Spencer right now, you’re going to have to show a little bit more respect.” With those words he pushed you up to your feet, pulling his hands off of you before quickly clearing a space on the desk and bending you over it.

“I heard this bit. They said they wanted me to bend them over and take them like this, right?” You heard him unzip his pants, bringing the tip of his cock to your entrance as he started teasing you, pulling your panties to the side. You moaned out a yes, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore.

“Use your words, baby. What did they want me to do to them?”

“They wanted you to bend them over the desk and fuck them like a little whore, sir.” With that confession out in the open, he finally pushed into you, stretching you out with a sinful groan slipping from his mouth.

“Fuck baby, so tight and wet for me…” His thrusts were hard and slow, and you could feel the wetness seeping down your legs, the wet sounds of your activity filling the space infinitely. His pace picked up and so did your constant mewls from the contact, the sounds completely unmistakable for anything but base lust.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart. Going to come, right here on my cock in my office, huh?”

“Yes, sir, I’m going to…. Shit, I’m going to cum.” He grabbed your hair and pulled your face up to his, swallowing each of your moans with his mouth as he let his tongue explore, your body twitching still under his ministrations. He kept his rough pace up for another minute or two before hitting his peak as well, pulling out to empty himself out on your thighs.

“Shit, Y/N,” he mumbled, falling back into his chair and running a hand through his tousled hair as you fell forward back into the desk, chest heaving. He was at eye level with the results of his labour and you heard the sound of his phone camera clicking before you could pull yourself together.

“Spencer!” You giggled awkwardly, looking back at him with an incredulous look as he pulled some tissues out of the desk drawer and started cleaning you up.

“What? I always take notes during my office hours.” He grinned up at you, as you turned around and planted another kiss to his lips, pulling him back up to you.

“How many students do you think will actually turn up to your class tomorrow?”

“I’ll be lucky if the module actually has any sign-ups next term.”

[alleiwentcrazy]

Eddie hates it when people don’t answer his calls. He hates it with passion.

It reminds him of too many things. It reminds him of manhunts and abandoned sheds, and no one on the other side of the line. It reminds him of cold, clammy hands, of hunger, of fear. Breaking bones and eldritch horrors he’d thought existed solely in cheap movies, not in real life, until he was brutally made aware of the fact that when people say everything’s possible, everything is possible.

Every time someone doesn’t answer the phone when he calls, panic starts to boil inside his veins and his brain immediately makes at least a dozen painful scenarios for him to dwell on. He knows that technically, they just don’t know that it’s him. But it doesn’t make him worry any less, so everyone’s learned to respect the rule. They just have to pick up. No matter what. Or he’ll freak out, drop everything he’s doing and come unexpectedly to check if everything’s alright.

There hasn’t been a single situation when things were actually bad���people go get groceries, take solid, deep naps, or they’re simply too lazy to pick up sometimes—but he always does that. Always.

Especially if it’s Steve who doesn’t answer. What if he fell? Or someone mugged him? Or he got into a fight? This brain can’t take any more damage. What if he’s in the hospital now, waiting to be anesthetized before surgery, and no one’s called Eddie yet, because to society they’re just some dudes living together?

There are too many options. Eddie doesn’t like taking chances anymore, so he slaps the “I’ll be back in a few” sign on the door, closes the shop and speeds through the town like he has nothing to lose. (And it’s quite stupid, because he has too many things to lose now—but he’s allowed to freak out once in a while.)

When he gets there and sees Steve pacing and gesturing animatedly in front of the window of their tiny but awfully cluttered kitchen, he finds out exactly what it means to have the whole world on your shoulders. Or, rather, to be finally freed from the pressure it creates.

It’s okay. It’s just a stupid phone call. It wasn’t even important, anyway.

Despite that, he takes his helmet off. Won’t hurt to remind Steve of the rule. And maybe kiss his pretty face a little while he’s here.

He doesn’t even have to enter their apartment to know that Steve’s not alone. First off – if Steve’s pacing and rambling, an anxious trait he’s picked up from Robin, wasn’t a hint enough – it’s loud. Their paper walls can barely hold back a normal conversation, let alone something resemblant of a heated discussion. Honestly, Eddie has no idea how their neighbors can stand them sometimes, with his metal, their late-night conversations and non-conversations alike, with the kids visiting so often. Although Steve is optimistic (they have some lovely neighbors, like sweet Gran Fran, but don’t ever let Eddie express his opinions about that old hag from across the hallway, Miss Hermans), he’s still waiting for that complaint to be filed.

Second, he smells coffee. Steve never makes coffee for just himself.

Eddie opens the door gingerly, remembering how easy it is to completely unhinge them by accident, and is about to scream something about getting home, when none other than Dustin Henderson cuts him off with a shriek.

“—because it’s actually pathetic, that’s why! Get a grip, man, just do it!”

“Oh, it’s so easy for you to say, because you’ve never actually tried—”

“And maybe I never will! If you won’t do it, how can I learn how to do it myself? You know that you guys are the closest thing to father figures!”

“Hey, don’t make it about yourself for once, maybe? Some humility?”

Dustin’s quiet for a second, but Eddie knows he’s not about to admit full defeat. “Yes, sorry,” he chokes out, finally. “But you’ve tried so many times, you should know that it doesn’t get any easier on another try. Just do it, it doesn’t matter how.”

“It does, though! To me, it—it does. It matters,” Steve mumbles back, and Eddie can picture his face in perfect detail. It’s Steve’s small voice, which means he’s worried about something, even though his worry doesn’t make any sense in everyone else’s eyes. He’s unsure: his brows are pinched, lips pursed, stare skittering around the room, never focusing on anything. Dustin knows this face too, because his tone gets softer.

“Okay, then walk me through it.”

“What?”

“Walk me through it. You’ll know what you want, how you want it, when and where, and it’ll be easier when you try it next time.”

“Dustin, I really don’t—I’m not sure it can get easier, ever.”

“Because you’re scared.”

Steve sighs deeply before he responds. “Yes. Because I’m scared.”

“It’s been eight years, Steve. What are you scared of?” Dustin’s voice is gentle, curious. He’s not judging, he genuinely wants to know the reasons, and so does Eddie. He leans against the wall, trying to sneak a peek of the kitchen unsuccessfully, and listens. A while passes before Steve speaks again.

“I think—There are so many things I’m afraid of. But the main one… It’s still rejection. Not being enough. Because it’s not like it’s anything formal, right? It’s only a promise, and if it ends up turned down…”

Chair legs scrape the floor and Eddie can hear two soft slaps – hands on shoulders, probably.

“Steve Harrington. Calm down. You know it’s not going to happen—no, don’t argue. I know it, and this alone should be enough. You are an amazing person. You’re great with people, you’re bright, you’re sweet, caring, you have so many talents. I love you, Steve,” the pause that follows is filled with something so heavy there’s a shift in the air. It has a different smell now. A little salty, a little warm. “And he loves you. More than you can imagine, probably. So just pop the question, Steve. And don’t back out with some stupid excuse like this morning.”

“Pop the question,” Steve says, his voice firm, only a little timid. “Yes, I think—I think I can do that.”

Eddie bounces off the wall and takes quiet, slow steps backwards. He can’t hear anything else, even though the conversation continues. He bites his tongue hard enough to make it bleed a little. A coppery taste floods his mouth as he closes the door.

Oh, it’s just so, so stupid. He would have said yes. Each and every time, he would have said yes.

*

Later that day, when they’re lying in bed together, with the sheets rumpled, their bodies warm and mushy from the nap, with Eddie’s lips on Steve’s and Steve’s hands in Eddie’s hair, Eddie remembers the overheard conversation.

Well, no. That’s a lie. Because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it ever since.

Every single second of what, at first, seemed to be yet another annoying Monday, has been filled with reverie and anticipation. Dustin’s right – Eddie loves Steve. He loves him enough to risk hell for him, enough to argue with anyone who’s in any way mean to him. Enough to take his hand and say “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m with you”, even though Eddie’s the biggest coward in the whole wide world.

Eddie loves him. Loves his goofy smiles and scrunched happy faces, loves his moles and the uneven mustache he grows out sometimes when he’s bored. Eddie loves how gentle Steve is, how thoughtful and kind-hearted he is. How he helps Gran Fran replant her flowers each month with more enthusiasm than Eddie’s ever shown to anyone. How he talks to children, how much respect he has for those undermined by everyone else.

Eddie loves how he’s learned to stand up for himself. He’s proud of Steve, of how much he’s grown, of how he knows how to express what he needs and what he wants now. Eddie’s loved him for ages, maybe even longer than he’s aware of, but every single significant and insignificant change in Steve’s behavior and point of view makes him fall a little bit harder, every time. In any shape, in any form, there’s one constant in Eddie’s life: his love for Steve.

He likes to think that they do that to each other, both of them. That they help each other through inevitable changes, painful regressions and euphoric victories alike. He likes to think that together, they make one, healthy, living being – and apart they’re good, because they’ve grown to be good people thanks to the connections they’ve made overall. He likes this idea of just being good, together and apart. And he loves Steve for giving him the opportunity to be just that.

Eddie wants it to last. Desperately, intensely, madly. He wants it to last and he needs it to keep happening – he knows that, and he knows he has the capacity to do that. To be there, to stay. His hands touch Steve’s thigh, not in the slightest covered by those silly Hawkins Tigers shorts he’s kept, then they touch Steve’s soft, scarred belly, then they touch his chest, where his heart is beating steadily and peacefully, and he keeps kissing him and Steve keeps clingling back to him, and Eddie’s so sure.

He wants this. He wants to experience growing old together, he wants them to get all wrinkly and bald together, he wants the fights over who gets the most comfortable chair in their grandkids’ living room. He wants them to experience the highs and the lows of the family that they already have, and the one they’re going to build someday.

Eddie wants this. He wants Steve. The whole deal; the promised forever. And he doesn’t want to wait another second.

“Steve,” Eddie says, cutting the kiss short so suddenly Steve actually pulls him closer, chasing after the warmth of his lips. “I’m saying yes.”

“Mm. Okay,” he mumbles back, too kiss- and sleep-hazy to catch Eddie’s intention right away. He tries to bump their noses together—which is adorable, really, but Eddie can’t let him hijack and self-sabotage this proposal too.

“No, Steve,” he squeezes Steve’s side until he looks at him properly. “I love you. I’m saying yes.”

In awe, Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through confusion, true bewilderment, a bit of fear and fleeting exhilaration, to finally settle on disbelief.

“How did you—”

Eddie laughs a little at that. “I called and you didn’t pick up.” Steve makes a little oh sound, already looking like a kicked puppy. “But it’s okay, doesn’t matter, not the point,” Eddie jumps in, anticipating an unnecessary apology. “The point is, I love you, and I’m saying yes.”

Steve stares at him for a long second, his eyes wide and earnest. His fingers slide from Eddie’s hair to finally settle on both of his cheeks, cradling them lovingly. Eddie kinda wants to cry.

“You’ll marry me?” Steve asks, incredulous, his voice only a bit louder than a whisper. The way he accentuates the word “marry” gives yet another layer of meaning to such a simple question. You’ll love me? Forever?

“I’ll marry you,” he replies without hesitation. “You’ll marry me?” You’ll love me? With my flaws?

“I’ll marry you,” Steve says back. Then he grins with his eyes glistening in the bedside light, and squishes Eddie’s cheeks so hard it squeezes the unshed tear right from his eye. “We’ll get married!”

Steve giggles happily, and Eddie laughs with him. There’s so much joy inside him—them, the whole room seems to get bigger. “We will,” he adds through a smile, already peppering his fiancé’s face with kisses.

“Oh gosh, I have to call Robin,” Steve manages through his giggles and Eddie loves him so much. “And Dustin!”

So, so much.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Two

Summary: You decide to finally do something for yourself and ease your mind Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Not too much for this chapter in particular besides mentions of domestic violence BUT yändere, manipulation, self harm, cheating, explicit language, smut, angst throughout the rest of the story a/n: Since you guys seem to be really liking this story I worked hard to get chapter two out quickly! Let me know what you think! p.s. Fuck me y'all I literally deleted chapter 2 but luckily I write on wattpad and I was able to restore it. I was literally about to cry Requested by the lovely: @kkusadmirer 💜

We had another fight. 

Honestly I don't even remember what it was about, something stupid like I left the door open after I came in with the groceries and forgot to lock it. Or maybe it was the fact that I actually left the house and got them instead of just ordering them to get dropped off on the doorstep. 

He always tells me it's too dangerous out there or that I should just wait for him to go with me instead. If I did that though we would never have any food here and I'm not about to order takeout for every meal. 

I don't understand why leaving the door open would be such an issue. We live in a relatively nice complex and our neighbors always make sure to look out for me so I don't understand why something as simple as that could set him off. 

But then again it doesn't take much to set him off these days, I guess it was something I should've expected. 

He hasn't been home for two days and at this point I've decided that maybe it's time I went out for the night. Nothing crazy or anything but just, out. 

Putting on yet another turtleneck I make sure that the old and new marks are covered. I've taken it a step further and put some makeup on to make sure that no one will notice. Although I doubt anyone would notice me anyways since I usually fade into the background. 

But tonight isn't about feeling insecure in myself. Tonight is the night where I finally do something on my own and get out of the house. 

Taking out my phone I look up the address for the local pub I've decided to go to, making sure to wear comfortable boots since it's a little ways away. I'm luck that it's winter right now so bundling up is normal, making my outfit even less suspicious. 

Taking a couple of deep breaths I reach for the handle, unlock the door and step outside. 

'Should I really be doing this?' I question but before I'm able to second guess myself I hear our next door neighbor unlock her door as well and step outside her door.

"Oh, y/n. What a pleasant surprise! It's been a while since I've seen your pretty face" she says scanning my features, clearly having heard the fight we had had the other day and making sure that I look okay. 

"Hi Mrs. Mitchell. How have you and Mr. Mitchell been?" I ask, returning her warm greeting but feeling awkward talking to someone that isn't Taehyung or my editor. 

"As well as we could be I suppose. Harry just turned 73 last month so he's been complaining about how old he his and how his knees don't work the way they used to. What can you expect when you get to our age?" she says, chuckling at her husband who is a few years younger than her.

"Seems like no matter how old men get, they still whine and complain whenever they get sick or injured" she continues, clearly trying to lighten my spirits. "I guess so" I say, not daring to bad mouth Taehyung since he's probably already gotten a pretty bad reputation around here with everything we've been through over the past few years. 

Sometimes I'm surprised by the fact that we haven't gotten evicted with all of the noise complaints we've gotten. 

He always makes me answer each and every call from our building even though he's the one responsible for a majority of the noise but he always makes sure to stand close by to make sure I don't ask them to send help no matter how severe things have gotten. 

"Where are you off to?" she asks taking note of the fact that it's getting late in the evening. "I figured I might just head over to the pub a few streets down and see if I can clear my head for a while" I say, not bothering to give more information than necessary. Not that there would be any more information to give. 

"Good for you dear! It's always good to go out and get a new perspective on life. Let me know anytime if you need any help alright? Oh and I'm so excited to read your next book!" she says and with that last part catching me off guard. "You've read my books?" I question, taken aback and almost embarrassed at the fact that a woman of her age would be reading the type of genre I write, let alone my own. 

"Of course dear! As soon as I found out that you were a writer I went straight to the bookstore and bought all of them! You really are very talented" she finishes, with a glimmer of admiration in her eye. 

"Thank you so much, your support means the world to me, truly" I finish and she quickly shoo me off, apologizing for holding me hostage. 

"Next time I see you I'll sign your copies if you'd like" I offer and the look on her face is absolutely priceless. 

"I'll make sure to have them sitting by the front door with a pen in hand!" she beams and I wave one last goodbye before I make my way to my destination. 

~~~~

Walking in the doors of The Blue Pearl I'm greeted by the sound of soft rock being played in the background and a low murmur of the small amount of people spread through out. This pub seems to be a little old fashioned so I guess it's not a big draw for the younger rowdier crowds. Which was exactly what I was looking for. 

Just a slow night to clear my head and a strong drink to drown my sorrows. Knowing me though I'll probably stop after one or two drinks. 

I decide to sit at the bar on the stool closest to the wall and wave the bartender over. 

"Surprise me, something sweet but something strong" I say trying to sound as confident as I can. "You got it" she says and comes back soon with a pink drink of some sort a few moments later. "What is this?" I ask after taking a sip, already dying for another one at the fruity but subtly sweet drink. 

"I like to call it The Slut Puppy" she says with a proud smile. I tilt my head when I look at her, confused as to how she came up with the name. "I'm still workshopping it to be honest but your reaction to the name definitely played true to the puppy part. I laugh realizing that I subconsciously played into her game and she laughs right along with me. 

"Long night?" she asks after I've settled in, using her bartender powers to see right through my act while walking away a bit to clean up the shaker she had used to make my drink. 

"Try long life" I say, rolling my eyes before taking a sip of my drink again, sighing in contentment. "That bad huh?" she laughs bitterly, knowing one way or another that what I'm dealing with is beyond fucked. "Let's just say the best part of my week so far has been this drink" I and steal a quick glance at her, embarrassed that my words are flowing so easily to a complete stranger. 

"But it's Saturday night" she say with her brows pinched together. "Exactly" I say and before I can even ask she decides to grab another shaker and makes me another drink which I accept with a somber smile. "I put some extra ice in this one so don't worry it's not gonna go straight to your head" she says, looking out for me as if she were someone I had known for my whole life. 

"I'm y/n by the way" I say, hoping to move from strangers to acquaintances at the very least. "Rae" she answers before tending to another patron. 

"So y/n" she starts as she makes her way back over to me "what do you do?" she asks, maintaining conversation but not trying to pry when it comes to what I'm clearly upset about. 

"I'm a writer" I answer and her interest is immediately peaked. "A writer? Really? What do you write about?" she asks, leaning up against the counter so she can hear me a bit better. 

"To be honest my stories are pretty fucked up romance novels" I say scratching the top of my head feeling a bit awkward at the confession. 

"Sounds like my type of book" she laughs. I let out a breath, thankful that I won't have to explain myself to her since this genre isn't everyone's cup of tea. "So what are some books that you've written? Maybe I've read one before" she says going back to cleaning up a few things, making sure to use her time wisely. 

"Well 'Trials of the Broken' is one of them. It's my best seller at the moment. I'm actually working on writing the sequel right now" I respond, embarrassed but proud of my achievements all the same. 

"I think I've heard of that one! My friends have been trying to get me to read it but I never got around to it" she says, surprised at her chances of meeting me. 

"If you ever get around to it then let me know what you think" I say, now kicking myself for putting on the pressure for her to read it. "I definitely will" she says and makes her way over to the other side of the bar to serve some more patrons that just made their way inside. 

Glancing over at them I notice one that is a few steps behind the crowd, making me question if he's come here alone but I go back to looking at my drink, trying my best not to stare. 

My eyes somehow manage to drag themselves over toward him as he places his order and waits for Rae to make it. 

He takes off his hood and I'm met with first, the sight of his sharp jaw, then his shaggy hair he ruffled as soon as the hood dropped and finally his lips, the bottom one pierced twice rested in a soft smile. I realize though that the only way I would be seeing his full on smile would be if he was looking back at me and I make somewhat panicked eye contact with him before quickly turning my head in the other direction. 

'Great job y/n, drooling over the first hot guy you see. He's probably going to think I'm some sort of creep now' my thoughts thought are interrupted with the sound of what I believe to be is a drink set down on the counter a few seats away from me. 

"Is it alright if I sit here?" a smooth baritone voice says, making butterflies fill my stomach. 

"Um yeah sure" I say, taking a sip of my drink before glancing at him, quickly looking away again before I start to stare again. 

"So how's your night going?" he asks, clearly in an effort to make small talk. 

"It's going. How about yours?" I question back and see that he's no longer looking at me, instead watching as he swirls his mystery drink around in his cup. "About the same" he chuckles, clearly amused with both of our lack of effort to divulge any details. 

We sit there for a second or two in silence before Rae walks over and gives me another drink. I watched her make it and I can tell she she went even easier on the alcohol this time and makes sure to question nonverbally if I'm alright to which I nod. 

"What are you drinking?" he asks, smiling at the visual of the bright pink drink with two cherries placed on top. "You're gonna laugh" I say, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear, feeling a little apprehensive saying words like this to a complete stranger (a hot one at that).

"It's-" "It's called a Slut Puppy" Rae interrupts from the other side of the bar, not even bothering to hide the fact that she was clearly listening. "Um yeah, that" I chuckle, taking a big sip of it to hopefully calm my nerves. 

"A slut puppy?" he asks, flashing an amused smile at me, sending my heart beat into overload. "Her name, not mine" I laugh awkwardly. Trying, but failing at sounding normal but from the looks of it he doesn't seem to mind. "Right" he says dragging out the first syllable before taking a sip of his drink. 

"Do you guys know each other?" he asks, curious as to who our not so secret eavesdropper is. "Kinda. We just met. Although it almost seems like I've known her my whole life" I say smiling at her, thankful for the fact that she was able to lift my spirits so easily. 

"It's nice when you meet people like that" he says and when I bring my attention back over to him I can tell that he's been looking at me for a while, making me shy all over again. 

"Oh, I'm Jungkook by the way" he says holding out his hand, and I turn my stool towards him and shake it, fixing what would've been an awkward angle if I had stayed in place. He after seeing what I had done decides to turn as well, angling his body towards me and I notice now that there's only one seat between us. A respectful distance, making me feel a bit more comfortable talking to him. 

"I'm y/n" I say and he gives me a soft smile, whispering my name under his breath, almost as if he were trying to keep it as a secret all for himself. "So y/n, what's your story?" he asks, withdrawing his hand at almost the same time I do and goes back to taking another sip of his drink, making sure to keep his sparkly eyes trained on me. 

'Sparkly? Y/n you are a married woman. You shouldn't even be talking to this guy'.

"My story? Well to be honest there's not much to tell. I grew up and went to school in the city and now I'm a writer. There's not much else to my life if I'm being honest" I say, doing my best to maintain conversation but also not give away too much. 

"That ring on your finger says otherwise" he says, nodding towards it and playing around with his straw. Not in an abrasive way but more as if to remind me of something else that I might've forgotten.

"Oh, um yeah" I say, showing him the ring up for a second to confirm his suspicions but pull my sweater down to cover it up a second later, hoping he won't ask anything else about that aspect but unfortunately luck is not on my side in that department tonight. 

"Is that why you're here? Needed to get away for a while?" he asks, curious but not insinuating anything that I would expect a guy of his age would be asking me. "I guess you could say that" I say taking a deep breath deciding that if he's asking I might as well get the male perspective while I can. 

"With being a writer and everything I'm pretty much cooped up in the house all day. Which for me is fine and it's been like that for a few years" I say, taking a second to try and figure out how to formulate my next words carefully, not wanting his to worry or judge the situation too much.

"I'm sensing there's a 'but' here" he chuckles and takes another sip of his drink and waves at Rae in an effort to get both of us both another drink without me noticing to avoid protest. "But" I start out, confirming his suspicions. "with my husband being used to me doing that all the time he tends to get a bit, how should I say this..." I trial off, still not sure how to phrase it. 

"Controlling?" he offers, a bit more blunt than his other responses. "Worried" I counter, although his word is more accurate than mine. He nods a bit, clearly not believing my words but doesn't press in hopes that I will continue. "He's worried that something might happen to me if I go out alone. That someone might recognize me because of my books and try to do something like kidnap me" I say, fully confident in my words.

I hear Jungkook snort beside me a second later, leaving me looking over at him with my brows scrunched up. "What's so funny?" I ask, confused and almost annoyed by his reaction. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry continue" he says doing his best to calm down. "No, what about that is so funny?" I press as I can clearly see that he's still trying to hold his laughter in. 

"I'm sorry y/n it's just, well isn't kidnapping a little bit of a stretch?" he says, clearing his throat and breathing through what he thought was a ridiculous excuse. "Woman and children get kidnapped everyday! Look up the statistics!" I retort, trying to convince him that there's truth to Taehyung's argument. 

"Yes, I know that it happens a lot, but you can't let that keep you from going outside and living life. It's a horrible thing and I don't understand why anyone would do such a thing but you can't use it as a way to cripple yourself from ever leaving your house" he says, this time being completely serious and trying his best to convince me that I shouldn't be living like this. 

"I'm out now aren't I?" I argue, and to that he nods his head but presses further. "How long has it been since you've been out like this though?" he asks and I just let my head droop a bit in response before taking a sip of my new drink. 

"Well I'm proud of you for coming out tonight and doing this for yourself. And look, you're completely safe. Plus seems like you've already made two new friends tonight" he laughs motioning to himself and Rae and when I look over at her all I can see is her bright smile, happy to see me getting more comfortable. 

"Who knows though, you might just be acting nice to me just so I'll let my guard down so you can kidnap me" I tease and at that he acts like he's offended, throwing his hand over his heart as if I had shot him. 

"You hurt me with your words. It's a shame though, I was just in the market for a new best friend" he says, wiping away a fake tear. "Or in the market for some fresh meat" I continue laughing at his act. "Twist the knife why don't you" he says, now resorting to pouting. 

"Aw, it's okay I didn't mean it" I say patting his shoulder in an effort to apologize. "You better not" he says looking at me, still pouting. "Come on, let's turn that frown upside down. Why don't I buy you a drink?" I ask as a way to make amends. 

"No that's alright, I've actually gotta get going" he says, pulling out his wallet and placing some cash on the counter to more than cover his drinks. "Let me get you some change" Rae steps in, quick to help since she is otherwise unoccupied. "No it's okay, use it to cover us both and then keep the change" he says as he straightens out his jacket a bit. 

"No you don't have to do that" I argue and go to take some cash out of my purse as well. "It's okay I got it. But if you want to make it up to me I'll always take your number as payment" he says with a cheeky smile. 

"Just as friends of course! I would never want to seduce a married woman" he says, jumping over himself, making me sure I know his intensions are pure. 

"Can we do email? I spend most of my time on my computer so it's easier for me" I say, making excuses as to not giving it to him. "As long as you promise not to mark my messages as spam" he jokes and hands me his phone so I can add it in. "I promise. It was really nice to meet you Jungkook" I say handing it back to him, our hands touching a few moments longer for it to be seen as something with the promise of being platonic. 

"Take care" he says giving me a soft smile and then waves at Rae, clearly seeing her not even bothering to hide that she's staring at us. 

"Bye" I say under my breath, not knowing how to feel about anything now that he's gone. 

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[film-in-my-soul]

Hey!! For the a ship, a trope, a sentence ask game: How about Icemav - accidental secret realtionship with "you guys walked in on us in the locker room, more than once, how did you not know?"

Maverick is nervous. He knows, realistically, that he shouldn't be. DADT had been repealed, Slider did a whole coming out thing for his niece the year before, hell, Maverick's seen Wolf with his hands down Holly's pants. But still, this is different. This clarifies that what he's got with Ice is here to stay, not a relative (well-loved as she is) or a hook-up when it's easy.

A hand slots into Maverick's, a body saddling up next to his in the bar booth. The hand is large, familiar, and heavier with the weight of the ring he'd slipped down Ice's fourth finger without complaint. It slides away just as quickly, old habits worn into the other man, but Maverick doesn't complain, not when Ice puts that same hand on Maverick's thigh.

"Could feel your leg shaking all the way from the door."

Maverick scoffs. "Sure you could."

Ice knocks their shoulders together and doesn't leave space between them when he settles again. It makes Maverick smile, opening his mouth to tease again when Slider's loud and unmistakable voice draws his attention.

"Alright, break it up, love birds," he slides into the space across from them, Hollywood hot on his heels.

"Where's Wolf?"

Slider rolls his eyes, and Hollywood winces.

"Might have accidentally told him the wrong day. He and Cindy took the kids to dinner."

Maverick kicks the other man under the table and doesn't look sorry when Hollywood yelps. All his previous nerves slip, and he pushes menus towards the new arrivals, waiting until their food's put in and they have drinks to try and broach why he and Ice have gathered them.

When he can't manage, picking at the corner of his bottle, Slider sighs.

"Alright, you two gonna tell us what this is all about? Cause if I gotta learn Maverick knocked up some Admiral's daughter, I'm making you pay my part of the bill."

And somehow, Slider's ability to shit talk right through a thick atmosphere has Maverick's tongue loosening.

"Ice and I are gettin' hitched." He doesn't even need to drag Ice's hand out with the simple silver engagement band, the man at his side doing it himself with a raised brow like he's daring either of the other men to say something about it.

They don't, though arguably it's worse than if they had. Hollywood spits out the beer he'd been sipping, and Slider's jaw drops damn near to the table.

"You-"

"I'm sorry, what-"

"When the hell did all this happen?" Slider settles on, waving a hand between Maverick and Ice. It makes Maverick's brows furrow, but Ice drops his arm over his shoulder, too, so what minor irritation had been forcing that expression smooths out, leaving only blatant confusion.

"What the hell do you mean?" There's a bit to Maverick's tone.

"Hey," Holly says, finally done choking, "it's not that we're not happy for you guys, hell yeah, marriage and all that, but... just... isn't it a bit fast?"

It's Maverick's turn for his mouth to slacken. He'd say they're fucking with them, but honestly, Hollywood's a shit liar, and Slider would have made some crack about them being married already.

"Are you both saying you didn't know?" Ice asks, drawing Maverick's eyes to him. He's unsurprised to see an equal amount of surprise pinching Ice's lips into a downturned line.

"I mean... we haven't seen you both in a while." Slider hedges, shrugging, and Maveirk's had just about enough. He throws up his hands.

"We've been together since '92!" comes his exclamation, "You guys walked in on us in the locker room more than once. How did you not know?"

Slider is the one who chokes this time, and Hollywood, flush high on his cheeks, probably remembering something he ought to have forgotten grimaces.

"Whoops?"

Maverick feels even less bad slamming the toe of his boots into the other man's calf a second time.

What a bunch of idiots.

[katnissmellarkkk]

another thing about twilight. why is it that bella never ever seems to care that the cullens — imo carlisle especially — only care about her literally because they love edward? like of course that is majority of in-law situations in life, like i know that. but bella is like “this is my family! this is where i belong and who i belong with!” and then they all just up and leave her the moment edward tells them to. carlisle especially only seems to care about her imo (beyond the fact that he cares for all human lives) because he cares about edward. idk i would feel some kind of way about the cullens if they literally took me in and then dropped me like a hot potato based off whatever edward felt on any given day.

in a way alice is better and in a way she’s worse on this front. like okay, she and bella are best friends, that much is true. one of the things i will give stephenie meyers (because she’s nowhere near as bad as people claim. stephen king has no business criticizing her when his stories are some of the worst i’ve ever encountered) is she does create and develop actual believable friendships and relationships. bella and alice are very close and lovey dovey. but that makes it worse imo when alice abandons her alongside edward. because her friendship with bella is literally contingent on edward.

but at the same time she does have an actual relationship with bella and you get that she wanted what edward thought was best for bella’s life and she loves her and her heart is in the right place and all that good stuff. but idk. for me, if i were in that situation, i wouldn’t have taken the cullens in as warmly again in eclipse. like bella is all like “my family! we’re all together again!” when in reality i, and i think anyone with enough self-esteem, would be much colder to them. more distant and less open. because even if she’s taken edward back — because really his side of the leaving fiasco is actually more understandable than the entire family’s ditching her and then wanting to act like nothing ever happened seven months later — his family still proved that she’s merely an extension of edward to them. they’re a family, they’ve been a family for around 75-100 years. they’ve been together, functioning as a family unit town to town since before her grandparents were born. like she’s just a modern teenage girl who the one unmarried brother fell in love with and brought along for the ride. like they all abandoned her and had the whole thing with edward/alice/cliff diving/volturi not occurred then the entire family would have just never contacted her again in her life. idk. i get the impression more so from carlisle than any of the others but bella’s whole open heart, open arms thing is sadly pathetic. because she’s clinging to a family that could take or leave her at a moment’s notice.

and honestly some lots may disagree but i do highkey appreciate the fact that stephenie meyers tried to rectify a lot of people’s criticisms with bella, in midnight sun. like she tried to retroactively make it seem like a lot of the “bella is a parentified child and she’s so mature because she doesn’t mind it at all” “bella takes care of her parents because she’s old for her age” was just a first person character blindness on bella’s part and it was actually really messed up in edward’s eyes the way her parents treated her and how it shaped her personality. but personally i wish SM would have included edward realizing bella has a really low self-esteem and that’s why she takes whatever kind of love people offer her without complaint and resentment even after they’ve done her dirty, not because “the cullens are so amazing” and “i’m so lucky to belong with them!”

[blackcatnip]

Can’t you see?! - Well, no.

Soukoku Chuuya finds out Dazai is blind in one eye

I kinda forgot Dazai used to cover his eyes with bandages when I wrote this so let’s just pretend he did not. Thank you.

Teen soukoku but Dazai is always bumping into everything. From a door frame to a really annoyed Chuuya. And every time it happens he just glares at the things or person in question like they were the ones who bumped into him. Which normally just results in a lot of cursing from a very exasperated Chuuya.

“I swear to god if you do this one more time I will throw you into the river myself.”

“It’s just that you are soo tiny that normally I can’t even see you.”

(That day he returned home with very wet clothes)

But oh well, he does his job okay when he has to and never once actually complained about this little problem nor seemed to be preoccupied to change it. So life went one.

Until one day, Chuuya was happily drinking his well needed coffee, looking at some papers when Dazai bumped into him – again - and spilled every drop of the hot – very hot - beverage into his very expensive – expensive as your house kinda expensive – suit.

So Chuuya was done with this stupid game. He grabbed Dazai's arms, pushed him into his motorcycle, ignored the brunette’s complaints, and they both went to see an eye doctor. Because Dazai fucking needed one.

It was with incredible shock that Chuuya received the news that Dazai was blind in one eye. And even more dumbfounded at the complacent look on Dazai's face, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Well, what did you expect?” Dazai said as they walked away from the building. “I told you I didn’t need a doctor.”

“I don’t know, an infection?! You always run from doctors like they are the plague either way.” Chuuya stops picking their helmets. “Why are you acting like it’s normal?”

Dazai looked at him like he was five years old and with a condescending tone he spoke up. “We are in the Mafia chibi.”

After that, Chuuya still cursed Dazai on a daily basis, still got pissed with his deplorable depth perception, and honestly would much rather any other partner. But – not that he would ever admit it to anyone else –  he also made sure to always find himself standing in Dazai’s blind spot. Better a shitty partner than a dead one.

[daphnebowen]

percy jackson and the olympians tv show episode 2 thoughts

again, just copying my original thoughts from last week 😭😭 lots of rambling, screaming, and general freaking out ahead!

Literally the whole first part of the episode I was sitting on the edge of my seat wondering “is annabeth going to say it? is she going to say percabeth’s iconic line?? I will be so incredibly disappointed if she doesn’t” and then SHE SAID IT SHE SAID IT OMG I LOVE HER and Percy’s reaction lol “huh?”

dude Dionysus is actually perfect “PETER JOHNSON IS HERE” man I am so looking forward to all of their banter

uhhh not me saying chiron’s name wrong for five plus years now and only now finding out it’s KYron and not CHEEron *sobs*

the whole thing with mr d saying he’s Percy’s dad was so funny I was cackling the whole time lol and not Percy ACTUALLY believing him and then Chiron shows up and it’s like “uh wait a minute hold on”

okay it is totally weird realizing that none of these people know who Percy’s dad is or what he can do but everyone watching (or mostly everyone I’ll say) does UGH I FEEL OLD

the music growing scarier as Luke approaches ACK FORESHADOWING he’s kinda cute tho I love his hair

i absolute adore how they made Percy mad about the injustice of the unclaimed at this young age not just as a fifteen year old and I freaking LOVE that for him

Clarisse is amazing, perfect, and gorgeous in every single way

DEMIGOD IN A WHEELCHAIR ALERT 🚨

“is there a greek god of disappointment? maybe someone should ask him if he’s missing a kid” dude I feel bad but the way I lost my mind - walker’s comedic timing and inflection was on point

AND THE FACT THIS GUY HAS AN ANSWER BAHAHAH

OMG WAIT THATS CHRIS AS IN… CHRIS CHRIS??? CLARISSE’S CHRIS??? CHRISTOPHER FREAKING RODRIGUEZ?? AHHHHH

percy is breaking my heart bro praying to his momma and everything it’s ok honey

YES THE BATHROOM SCENE that was lowkey kind of anticlimactic…

ANNABETH YAY

the fact that she just calmly admitted she’s stalking Percy and he’s just like “okay” onto the next thing lmao

was it just me pronouncing Thalia’s name like TAlka and not THAlia like how it’s spelled *sobs* I am really bad at this apparently

luke is making it really hard for me to remember he’s a bad guy, he’s so charming and sweet!

YES CAPTURE THE FRICKIN FLAG LESGOOOO

”sunshine” IS SO CUTE I CANT IM FANGIRLING Annabeth is everything I ever imagined her to be

NOT PERCY FLOSSING OH MY

AND SINGING ROBIN HOOD AND LITTLE JOHN RUNNIN THRU THE FOREST OR WTV HES PERFECT I CANT

percys battle instincts are JAW DROPPING that fight scene was perfect

dude that claiming! Honestly didn’t picture the trident being so big but I think it kind of fits, bc how else is everyone 20 feet away gonna see it?

percy being so confuzzled when Mr d tells him he stole the master bolt is so funny “wHaT?!”

WHERE IS THE ORACLE BRUH

final thoughts: okay, that episode was PHENOMENAL! Camp half blood is absolutely gorgeous, the capture the flag scenes were perfect. Walker is crushing it as Percy and that was genius casting and I will say that till the day I die. I cannot wait for the third episode! my only complaint is, where’s the Oracle?? I genuinely want to hear the prophecy! because if she’s not here now then how’s Rachel gonna become the next oracle? I will hyperventilate bc perachel was so good for percabeth’s growth hahaha. I really really hope she’s in the next episode! I guess we’ll see!

haha thanks for reading my chaotic notes

[shroudandsands]

Prompt #1: Steer

Tires thudded over the curb. The engine backfired. Bullets clanked against the frame. And Dugald was driving like his life depended on it.

He had never expected to be put behind the wheel, honestly. At least- Not in the first few days of knowing the driver. Or the car. It felt impersonal, you know? You didn’t drive someone else’s car until they trusted you with it or they were dead. And neither were particularly applicable right now- But he supposed the latter might happen if he didn’t make the next turn. The Thorton skipped over another curb, the side scraped against a wall, the owner hollered her complaint over the sound of returning gunfire. He white knuckled the steering wheel. Another bullet ricocheted off the frame. Another was sent in return. He looked in the rearview mirror. Scavs. It had to be scavs. One clear memory in his head- of a few, at least- and it was in a high speed chase that he could remember how he felt about scavs. Probably not an uncommon feeling towards them. I mean, who could like butchers who’d sell you for every bit of metal you have in you- right down to the fillings in your teeth? He thumped over another curb as he swung the truck around into an alleyway. Honestly it wasn’t surprising that his only memories of them were negative. The sound of the mirrors scraping against brick and metal was just as evocative of their chop shops as the actual sound of them screaming behind them. How much was he worth? Hell, how much was this gal worth? Between the two of them they probably had a pretty decent score. At least he had a feeling the car wasn’t what they were after.

The car groaned, same as him, as he swung it wide around the corner and back onto the road. Potholes thumped the suspension as he pointed the nose towards the distant promise of an easier time, an easier escape- The only highway ramp not currently blocked by NCPD or some Maelstrom popup… Gathering. Gathering was the best way to put it, he thought. Really the only problem with all the thoughts before, of course, as he stomped on the pedal and listened to the automatic transmission whine in horror at what he was making it do- Well. This thing wasn’t exactly going to go zero to sixty fast enough to escape the scavs’ slipshod dragsters. Whether from shitty parts, old age, or factory limiters- “WALKER-” She dropped back down into the passenger seat as a grenade soared past the car and landed in a heap of garbage. It exploded as he swerved around it- much to her and the car’s complaint- and he felt another backfire take them down a gear. The look she gave him was wild, frenzied even, and frankly he didn’t appreciate the unspoken complaints about his driving. Not his fault he wasn’t carrying any guns at the moment. Not his fault that the car couldn’t go above sixty and take corners without screaming in agony. What had she been doing to this thing? Or, rather, hadn’t been doing? It’s not his fault that he couldn’t make it go faster. Not…

He looked in the rear view. They were getting closer. The Thorton was blowing smoke. Slowing down. If he could get on the highway it still wouldn’t be fast enough in the straightaways to get out of their territory. He was pretty sure they were about to blow a tire, too, to make it all that much more palatable. They’d be able to catch them in a heartbeat. It’s a Thorton. He stared in the rearview.

Chop shops. Metal. Chrome. Thortons. He looked down at the steering wheel. It was a Thorton. Scavs weren’t after the car- In a fit of memory-induced insanity-

Dugald gripped the console with both hands, his fingers slipping into grooves meant for technician tools. Augmented hands and arms would have to do for the moment as he groaned… and tore the module right off and into his lap. Within the same second, in a memory as rote as blood flowing from a wound, his arm slipped open in all but the same way to expose a monofilament blade that sprung cleanly from his forearm and out under his palm. And then he jammed it straight into the ECU plug. Sparks flew. Chop shop. Metal. Chrome. It was a Thorton. The only difference between any damned model of the thing was the limiter the factory put on it and the armor the customer slapped on it. Limiters could be removed. Engines could be tuned. Not in real time, no, never in real time. Not for anyone sane at least. Not for anyone who wasn’t currently being shot at and thoroughly invested in staying as alive as possible for the next 30 minutes- give or take a few. Oh but that’s what he remembered. The Scavs. The chop shops. Oh he remembered it all.

It was right as they hit the ramp that the Thorton screamed- no, roared- to life like a truck of its caliber likely never had before. The volume of if deafening, the rattling of it frightening, the speed of it exhilarating; and all the while Dugald stared dead at the the road while his arms twitched in time with the engine’s pistons. From zero to sixty. Sixty to one hundred. One hundred to one hundred twenty. Pretty sure they just put some sports cars to shame. Jerking the car between what few other drivers were still out on this side of the city. It was easy enough to tell when they weren’t being followed anymore. The fireball of a collision not even a quarter mile behind them. But he kept it going. Taking highway turns like they were hairpins, taking ramps like they were jumps, throwing the Thorton down the highway like a rocket that might just explode if he stopped it. He didn’t check on the state of his passenger. The speed would shut her up for now. His driving would shut her up for the next hour after that.

It wasn’t until they were out of the city lights that he finally let it slow back down to a crawl. Or, rather, that the car finally gave up. No amount of coaxing- no amount of manual control, really- could get it back to speed. She was tired. So was he. …Aaand he was being yelled at.

He leaned back in the seat as he retracted the blade back into his arm. He didn’t bother listening.

[justanothergoldfish]

Greg Lestrade x reader

Handsome stranger - part two -

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

warnings: swearing, drinking

words: 2200

A/N: there will be a third part. I love Greg too much. Also in this part, reader is definitely written from a female POV. If i hear one complaint about my interpretation of Scottish English I'm burning down the internet.

---

It didn't take long for your boss to show up at the bar after that interaction. 

“Seriously? Ain't he a wee old for a lassie like you?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing together. With a feign look of innocence you shrugged, “What are you talking about?”

“I heard ya, young lady. Drooling over that poor fella.”

Hearing him call you out so shamelessly made it impossible to stay serious and to not grin like an idiot. 

“Oh can't I have some fun? Hey, maybe he'll tip nicely, alright? I'm just… boosting your business. Sales, you know?”

Gary rolled his eyes and shook his head, and you could almost hear him think ‘You're a hopeless case’ as he nudged towards the kitchen. “Go help the lad in the back, aye? I'll take it from here.”

You too rolled your eyes and clicked your tongue. “Hey, just to make this clear; men are like wine, they get better with age. Guess you might've gone bad.” you groaned in annoyance, throwing the linen cloth from your apron onto the counter before heading into the kitchen.

“Oi, remember who's paying your bills, lassie!” Gary called after you, his voice a bit elevated, earning a huff from you. It was all friendly banter, but it still made you pout, not to be able to serve Greg and have some fun conversation. You had been looking forward to another chat with this gorgeous man from London, he seemed… Interesting. 

~

After what felt like a thousand peeled potatoes later, Gary returned and slumped himself into a corner in the kitchen. 

“I feared the day would come…bloody shite…” he mumbled, looking pale as a ghost. The man shook his head, staring into the steamy kitchen air. 

Without looking at him, you already guessed what happened. “What's wrong? Someone discovered that the ‘monster’ is just a hungry dog you've sat out in the forest?” 

Gary's eyes drifted over to you. “That fella you've been drooling over�� He's an Inspector.”

Oh shit. 

Instant panic broke out internally at his revelation and you basically dropped everything. “A Health Inspector? Bloody christ Gary, I don't have a fucking food or beverage certification! I'm only supposed to help you out until you find someone else! What am I supposed to do?!” you hissed, crouching down in front of him. 

Gary sighed and waved it off. “Not a Health Inspector. A Detective from Scotland Yard.”

Was that better or worse? 

It took a few moments to calm down and collect your thoughts. 

“So? What now?” 

With a groan, Gary buried his face in his hands.  “We told him everything, I can never look that man in the eyes again… He's only staying for one night, aye?”

You got back up and crossed your arms. 

A Detective from Scotland Yard? This man got more interesting by the minute. 

“Looks like I'll take it from here again. I'll make sure he’ll have a pleasant time and won’t close down your business.”

~

As you came to the front, you saw Greg leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone. He nipped on his beer and locked his phone as you approached with light steps. Even though he had scared the shit out of the owner, he seemed so… relaxed. 

Once you cleared your throat you decided to speak up to him again. 

“So… You're a Detective? Is that what brought you here? Are we in trouble?” you tried to jest as he locked his phone and gave a reassuring smile.” I'm on holiday, no need to panic. I think the owner’s already learned his lesson and if I learned one thing in life it's to never mess with a lady who pours my beer.”

The way his eyes creased when he carried that beaming smile, it was honestly heartwarming. 

“You're a smart man then.” you chuckled, grabbing a small chestnut wood bowl and filling it with a bag of mixed nuts and crackers from one of the cabinets. 

“So, a Detective from London, all the way out here in the Dartmoor in our humble village,” you grabbed a tall glass and poured him another, noticing his drink was nearly finished, “You probably brought some exciting stories along. Care to share?”

Greg huffed as he supported himself on the counter with both arms in front of his chest and adjusting his seat on the barstool. “Rather gory than glory, trust me. Sure you can handle it?”

The teasing smirk on his face made your heart flutter and cheeks redden as you tried to contain yourself and served him his beer and the complimentary snack bowl. 

“You surely know the key to a man's heart. Thank you, love.”

Greg took a few peanuts, juggling him in his hand ever so slightly. 

"You'll probably hate me for questioning you about your job on your holiday, but I have to know. Have you ever seen a dead body?”

Greg munches on his peanuts as he nods along. Knowing that the hotel owner would scold you for just standing around and chatting, you decided to clean up a bit and do some side work during the talk.

“I've seen some, yeah. Part of the job.” He finally says after swallowing. 

From one of the drawers you gathered a bunch of paper towels and a tray of cutlery. Rolling silverware seemed like a perfect task to do right now, surely the conversation would make this eternally hated task probably more bearable.

Greg observed your hands working on the roll-ups with precision and skill as he took one of the crackers into his mouth, chewing on it while watching you.

“So, did you ever… shoot someone?” you asked, spreading out the next paper towel. 

For a moment, he went back into his thoughts. He chewed on the inside of his cheek before taking a sip of his beer. With the back of his hand he wiped off the foam from his upper lip and gave a half nod, half headshake. 

“Fire a gun at someone, yes. Killed someone, no. I think that answers your question?”

You raised your eyebrows and agreed with a simple nod before moving on to the next question. “Can I see your ID?”

The man grinnes and grabbed another peanut from his bowl, “You've seen it already.”

“Aw, not your personal ID, your police ID, you know what I mean” you mused. 

He chuckled as he reached into the inner pocket in the lining of his jacket and got it out, holding it up in front of your face.

“Wow…  Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade… Scotland Yard…“ you read off the card quietly, seemingly impressed before looking back up to him, meeting his brown eyes. 

“It's not as impressive as you think. Lots of paperwork” Greg explained as he stuffed his ID back into his inner pocket and straightened his jacket afterwards. 

“But- my turn to ask a question. I don't even know your name.”

“Then find out? You're a Detective working for Scotland Yard, I'm sure you've got your sources.” 

His expression instantly gave away that he was more than up for the challenge, despite being on holiday it seemed to be worth the effort. 

“Good, give me until tomorrow morning’” Greg grinned, looking at you all over again. Now that made your cheeks flush a bit, hopefully not enough to be noticeable in the dim light of the bar.  His smile made you completely forget about his age for a moment. Not that you truly cared. He was a fine man with an exciting job and probably made good money, what was not to like? 

You tried to get a glance at his hands as discreetly as possible. 

No ring, good. But it was visible that he'd been wearing one until recently.

Maybe that was your chance to get to know him better personally. 

“So, why does a handsome detective go on vacation all on his own?”

Greg can't help but smile bitterly to himself at your words, fidgeting with the beer glass in his hands. He felt flattered by your words, and after divorcing his wife, your words were like a balm to his sore heart. 

“Handsome, huh? Can't say I've heard that in a while” he said almost sheepishly before taking a deep breath, staring at the foam of his beverage for a moment. 

“Yes, i uh.. I'm divorced. Just happened a few months ago.”

You saw the sorrow creeping up in his face and tried to offer a shoulder to cry on as you sat away the tray of rolled silverware. 

“You know, bartenders are perfect to pour your heart out to, if you wanna get it off your chest?”

Greg hummed, his eyes scanning the liquors on the wall behind you. 

“Need something stronger for the nerves beforehand?” you asked, already reaching for a shot glass. 

He couldn't help but smile at your words, “You're a mind reader, my dear. Pour me anything.” 

After scanning through the variety of liquors the bar had to offer, you filled the shot glass with a clear, yellowish liquid and set it down in front of the Detective before returning to your tasks. 

Without any hesitation, the man downed his drink in one go and licked the excess off his lips. 

“That's a good one. Elderflower?”

You nodded and let him reach the empty shot glass over to get it cleaned in the sink. “Owner made it himself last year. Tastes awfully sweet but don't underestimate the alcohol.” 

“You've got quite the taste, eh? Well… pouring my heart out to a bartender, I'm not gonna pass on that opportunity.” He braced himself mentally and propped up an elbow on the counter, his warm eyes drifting off as he started to explain. 

“Been married for years, but due to the job, my ex-wife and I sort of drifted apart. We've been fighting constantly, thought it was getting better only to find out she…”

As hard as he tried to say it out loud, the words just got stuck in his throat. Not that he had to finish the sentence for you to understand. You shook your head, not understanding why people were that way. 

That was fucked up. And as hard as he tried to find his words, you tried to be empathetic but couldn't help to automatically think out loud “What a bitch.”

Greg blinked a few times at your blatant words before the corners of his mouth curled up into a smile. He'd always felt his heart break at the thought of his failed marriage, feeling like it was his fault. He should've had more time for her, he should've showed her how much he loved her, but for the first time, he saw it all from a different perspective as you continued, “Communication problems or struggling to sort out your work - life balance don't justify cheating. Nothing does.”

You cleaned his shot glass and set it away to dry, still shaking your head. You kept on rambling about how wrong this all was, and it made him change the entire way he'd felt about this divorce prior to this conversation. 

Once you noticed how quiet he'd gotten, you too stopped talking and mustered him for a moment. He didn't say anything for a while, he just stared at his glass with a smile, realizing the final straw, his ex-wife's infidelity, was her choice. He never wanted to fight, he never wanted to neglect her or make her feel unloved. 

For the first time since the divorce he could look back at the situation without feeling like a miserable man who had thrown away his marriage himself. Your words had made him realize that this wasn't on him. 

“Greg? Are you alright?”

Finally, his eyes met yours, the outer corners of them creasing as he gave you a warm, honest smile. 

“Pour me two more of those shots, love” he said with an undertone of relief. 

So you did. Two more shots, onto the counter.

He took one of them and gestured for you to grab the other one for yourself. 

“Oh, I can't, not while I'm on shift-”

“Noone's looking. I'm off duty, I won't arrest you.” he says with a reassuring nudge to the other shot. 

If your boss knew… 

Ah, screw it. 

So you looked left and right quickly before clinking your glass against his, hoping no one would ever find out about it. 

“Atta girl. To the pretty lady pouring my drinks and opening my eyes.” he mumbled in a low volume before both of you downed your shot, while his words almost had you choking on the drink. 

He sat down his glass with a sigh and mustered you with care. “You know darling, I think I should come around more often."

[stardust-sprinkler]

i loooveee ur college! touya headcannons sm. they make me so happy he would be the best boyf ever. In one post u mentioned how often he gets into fights for u (which is so true) so i'm also thinking it's the other way around. like if any girl tried to flirt w/ him knowing ur together or hookup with him, obv he is rejecting them immediately but i'm imagining reader see's and just backhands the girl so hard 😭

Oh my god, I’m so happy my hcs make you happy!! 💖 I’m honestly feral for College!Touya, my personal pet project over here! Lol

Such a good prompt too! Enjoy~

College!Dabi AU

“Bad Boy Who’s Always Good to His Girl” Series~

• You’ve only felt jealous a few times in your long term relationship with Dabi. Once was when an old flame of his got a little too friendly with him in public. The way they looked at him and tried to tease him despite your boyfriend brushing them off every time—it p!ssed you the fuck off.

• You spent the evening stewing in your thoughts before he pried it out of you in the common area of his dorm. When you finally told him, he blinked twice, shook his head, and hoisted you up to wrap your legs around him. You were complaining and telling him to put you down right now, and he just positively ignored you.

• Boy carried you to the elevator and up to his room before tossing you (safely—this man is obsessed with protecting you so he’s not about to let you crack your head on the headboard) on the bed. He rustled through the top dresser drawer before throwing you a silk rope that he usually used on you and told you to do whatever you want to him for the night. Stake your claim however you want.

• Our boy ended up with bites and hickeys trailing from his neck down to his Adonis belt and claw marks on his back and thighs. No complaints were heard.

• Another was when you were far less restrained. It was a Friday night, this time the party was actually being hosted at the Todoroki’s goddamn mansion—his younger brother was throwing it while the old man was away, and Dabi thought it would be funny as fuck to crash it (maybe cause some property damage, maybe commit some arson—the possibilities were endless).

• Well, eventually (read: inevitably, considering the venue) something had pissed him the f*ck off and he stormed to an outside patio for a smoke. You followed, kissed his cheek while he grumbled & fished a cigarette out of a carton, and then left with the promise of returning with some more drinks.

• It was then that some hot shot spotted Dabi alone and got real up close and personal while they flirted, despite him telling them off several times in a row, “Holy shit, are you stupid or something? I said screw off!” His drag was deep after what he considered his final warning, but they unexpectedly pushed themself up against his chest and immediately his hands shot up into the air and he stumbled back slightly, determined to communicate to anyone who might be watching that he did NOT want this dumbass touching him.

• Fucker made him drop his cigarette.

• He didn’t end up having to do anything further, because next thing he knew, you had your fists balled up in the back of their jacket and yanked them backwards, letting their own weight knock them back on the sprawling lawn. By this point, a small crowd was forming, but you had tunnel vision.

• “Touch him one more time, dipshit, I dare you. I’ll shove this stiletto so far up your ass that I can lace it up through your goddamn mouth, y—!! Hey, where are you taking me??”

• Dabi was grinning like a crazed lunatic as he hoisted you up onto his hip, pleased as gd punch that you were getting in a fistfight over him. The only reason he stepped in was because he wanted you safe more than he wanted to see the mf get their ass handed to them. He never let you as much as bruise a finger if he could help it.

• “C’mon, Matchbox, let’s go steal something out of my sperm donor’s office.”

[sweetshelluvaau]

Free pass for you to explain how you’ve decided to rewrite any of the characters ^^

if you can’t choose tho I’m very curious to hear your thoughts on Alastor

Oh geez I have to pick a character to talk about! Well, I'll do that but I'll also answer regarding to Alastor first:

I have a complicated relationship with Alastor in the show, however I don't think they changed him too much from the pilot but at the same time, something just feels off about him.

No shade to his new actor, he does a fine job but something is missing that Ed Bosco bought to the character. Also as much as I love the song Stay Gone, I do feel him using modern slang to be out of character for him. (I'll admit tho that him dropping the f-bomb did made me laugh.)

Really I don't have much complaints about Alastor being I'm kinda indifferent about him.

As how I would rewrite him: Well first off, get rid of the Voodou stuff. There are people much better qualified than I am to talk about why using symbols and villainizing a closed practice/religion that has ties to parts of the black community is wrong so I'm not touching that can of worms. I know Viv said he's Creole, but I feel she only made him such because of the backlash and criticism she gotten.

So, in my AU, suppose to using Voodou, Alastor will still have powers but they're more eldritch/Lovecraft in nature (which is kinda what he already has going for him so it's not too much of change I guess idk) and has these powers by making a deal with a demon when alive and when he died it just transferred with him when he arrived in Hell. How? Why? I haven't figured that out yet being I don't know even if I'm gonna touch on that much in my AU anyways.

Also worth nothing that in my AU: Most Overlords don't have powers and play more like gang leaders/owners of their control of ‘districts’/businesses though out various rings in hell where Overlords are a thing (Pride/Greed/Sloth. Lust sort of has them but they're more regulated in that ring suppose to having freedom to do as they see fit) sort of thing. The only exception of the rule is Alastor and maybe Zestiral because he's old and gives me sorcerer vibes (plus it is my AU I do what I want). Vox still has the ability of hypnotization but it's less magic more than it's technology (I mean he's a TV head and likes to update with the times so he had a good time to prefect that).

But back to Alastor: Honestly, I think that's really the major change I would do being I think he has a solid foundation otherwise, it just comes to excultion.

Okay, character of my picking:

Less of a rewrite and more of a compete replacement but I would get rid of Adam and replace him with Archangel Michael. I don't get why Adam is leading the extermination being he was never an angel but a human that just so happened to go to heaven in Hazbin. This would be okay if the worldbuilding made this make sense but again, we're talking about Hellaverse here where the writers just throw shit against a wall and see what sticks without asking why.

But yeah, I think it'd make more sense for Michael to be leading the Extermination. I don't plan on him being a dick, let alone evil in my AU more than a guy who's trying to justify to himself that this is for the betterment for Heaven and Hell but takes no joy in the job otherwise and likely going to go though an existential crisis half way into my version of Hazbin.

Also, Lucifer and him are brothers. The Drama!

Anyway this is getting long and I think I spent two hours writing this out. If there's any other questions you want to ask, you're always welcome to send in more.

[kooktrash]

Hey, I loved your recent fanfic. Both characters were absolutely top-notch (especially Jungkook's! (⁠ ͡⁠◉⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠◉⁠) Can you blame me? We love a man who's whipped for us...). I honestly don't get what those anonymous complaints are about—saying you take months to write 16k words? And that the characters are boring? Their characters were nowhere near boring! Do they even realize how difficult writing is? I'm a writer myself, and sometimes it takes me an hour just to write 300 words 😭😭. Please, tell them—respectfully—to stfu

haha thank u and yeah they’re wrong <3 it took me about two weeks to write this fic bc I have a full time job and a social life (crazy for a 22 year old fanfic writer I know)

I haven’t postedddd in months bc I would write something and then hate it or think of something new. it doesn’t bother me if they don’t like it bc they can easily write their own fic. I wanted to do something with a rich jk but somewhat realistic way of meeting (and a bar is realistic) idk but bc of them imma drop some horror fic soon 😤

jk their words don’t bother me. I WILL be dropping another fic hopefully this month tho

[bookishtheaterlover7]

👸- Ok lets get things straught

Unless someone held a newspaperup like a kidnapping to show proof of date the photo could be as o as old as 2017 he got dodger in 2015(possible 2016 idk when gifted stoped filming but they started in oct 2015 and he has more black kn his nose when he was younger) this shows minus someone, not necessarily a man, with a white kneee, thowrtically the person could be Latinx or Asian etc. 

THEY ARE DOING THIS TO GET FANS ATTENTION. They know we love dodger we've said leave dodger alone so another dodger oic and people are up in arms... they're troll dont go for it. At least he isn't speared in half again by a leg.

B) dodger going to doggy day care... wow. Sound the alarm. Now i dont know much about the video ive seen the photo and honestly it may not be dodger. His coloring isn't THAT unique. The quality is also bad too. I mean i could sqear that was my friends dog in the corner too. But i imagine Chris went out of his way to make sure dodger was well socialized because hed be around kids and in thr video with aly rushmans dog it showed dodger can be unknowingly a little rambunctious with small dodgs but who wouldnt get excited with a cute new puppy  playmate even though dodger givrs off the:  im not an animal im a human vibe. 

Who says that also isnt where a lot of cast and crew put thier dogs? Yes Im assuming its for a film and based on the placement of the tiles and the way they are a diffrent color it seems like it is purposely a diffrent type of tile... why? I dont know but its awfully evenly spaced and copied a couple feet down.

Ive seen people even claim that chris uses dodger for people to like him.  Hes now Will and Jada acting like theyre still a thing 6 years after they seperate. Its a man and his dog do you see the way Chris looks at him? If chris was that good of an actor we'd all be thinking he was really in love  with little miss nazi and no mstter what they do now i wont believe  it just cause he hasnt looked happy in 2 years UNLESS Dodger was the subject... 

You also see too many people talking too many nce things about dodger and chris with dodger

When this whatever shit started we saw a lot of orgs and fellow celebs pull away from chris a lot less birthday wishises publically  one of chris reoccuring costars (not scarjo or A.D.A.) had a very heartwarming and touching birrhday with with a few examples of how nice he is. There are also reports thst he lets people use his houses etc. when hes not in town. Now people ahve pulled away from him publically. We all know chris isnt a golden boy but when companies and charities stop working with someone suddenly (many stopped after the first pap walk) despite other issues it to me sayshe was nice enough to want to be associated with before.  I think its a fine line of what people will and wont tolerate and yes theres trolls and clout chasers but when ebolas associations and beliefs came out many broke away when a cetain company recived complaints things were dropped we all know a campaign was fropped and they mostly use OBJ and one of the founders dog whose has very VERY similar collerings to dodger. They also seemed to not get the enagwment they wanted on the cintest as it was like they were shoving it down people's throat. I do believe once things are over (whatever the truth is-theres do dobut its toxic otherwise chris wouldnt be looking like he does) there will magically be another campaign. 

Now people turn in seb for what a movie that is supposed to be really good? Because hes friend with someone who doesnt look like a typical movie star. 

Leave fans and their looks out of it. Be nice. Little miss nazi on the otherhand we finally saw what her soul looks like and I can actually look at these photos without wanting to puke - have no sympathy for nazis and those who hate others like that

Lastly another reminde rb/c ppl r still talking about it- 

STOP TALKING ABOUT the INTERVIEW  how many times do people have to tell you they want you to talk. Your playing into thier hands and being a pawn Nothing new was said and frankly it makes her look foolish. I relize I'm talking about it but its just to tell you all to stop talking about it because they've had to change strategies. They held back the "kiss" we all know that would've been released day off a year ago. So now they release something that like others said would not have been seen outside her country normally its been over a week. And Yes shes stupid forgetting where she is but The only thing ur doing is making their ship stay relevent.  And in peoples mouths. 

Also just an fyi to Ebola check which account you post things on... normally im.not a conspiracy theorist like that but this is getting way too stupid that fan sites are publishing things that the actors page would normally post. 

P.s. bookie lets see some of the wonderful exs chris has had gimmie some mink and jessica and Jenny to attach to Chris' tag. 

ANOTHER ONE IN THE BAG, 👸

I seriously don't know how you do it, girl...

But seriously, I'm thankful for your PSAs. And look forward to reading and posting every single one 😁

Oh, and I most certainly will! It's all in good fun 🙃

[eaglefairy]

It's been a while, but we're finally back to xenoblade 2! Ending chapter 6 and getting most of the way through chapter 7.

While making our way down Tantal, we ended up discussing the cutscene with Pyra and Addam that my roommate hates so much (because of the "sealing you away because humanity needs to learn how to use your power" trope). I pointed out that it would've worked way better if Addam was just old in the cutscene, since it would come off less as him not taking responsibility for what happened (my roommate's words, not mine) and more that he just ran out of time and is sealing Pyra away to protect her when he can't

Of course, any of that would've required them to make a whole two character models for Addam in time for release. Let's not get hasty here!

Roommate: "Oh god, a narrow bridge. My worst enemy."

Why is the map so godawful in this game. She opened it up to skip-travel back to a previous point and just silently closed it again to walk the normal way because Tantal is so vertical the map is extremely hard to read

(Edit: oh, how innocent we were...)

It's a little funny that our descent into Tantal has happened almost entirely at night. I'm so used to the bombastic music accompanying me down to save the Titan, it's a big change in atmosphere to have the music be so calm

Pyra: "Maybe...I should've never been sealed away at all." Roommate: "Oh, you think? You fucking think so?!" Me: "It's okay, it's okay, we'll rewrite it, it's going to be fine..."

(As we've been playing, my roommate and I have been talking about how we'd reorder and change plot points because we have some capital-C Complaints about it. Feel free to drop an ask if you're curious!)

Roommate: "You know, I kind of agree with Nia. Elysium seems like it kind of sucks, maybe we shouldn't go there." And: "You know, I'm really interested to meet Father if we get to meet him. I want to see who he is."

And I'm just over here trying not to grin too suspiciously

Me, knowing what's about to happen in the chapter 6 finale: "Try not to be too annoyed at Pyra and Mythra." Roommate: "I make no promises."

(She wasn't annoyed with them at all! In fact she came out of it thinking that Pyra is a badass. What I didn't expect was her getting so angry and Jin for accusing Rex of not caring about Pyra)

Roommate: "Oh no, don't say you're leaving. Don't--" Rex: "I'm leaving." Roommate "NO!"

All of this stuff about "the third sword of the Aegis" really hits differently when you know that it's just going to crumble to dust when Rex touches it tbh

My roommate had so much trouble with navigating Elpys that I had to take the controller for a second just to get her through to the next area. Xenoblade 2 have functional maps challenge: failed

I warned her that the Phantaddams are the worst boss fight in the game and she just silently handed me the controller. Honestly that's fair

My roommate and I were already giggling when Addam came on-screen because we can never unsee Jin in a trenchcoat, but it turned into full-on cackling when he did the little hip-jut pose with his hands on his hips. Why is he standing like that?! 😂

She got extremely quiet when the Earth blowing up flashback came on screen. I think her theory brain is finally on...

And we're done for the night after the hell that is Elpys

[gregorygerwitz]

Here I am, back again asking for another meta! Tell me about mouse's exit in 4×05, I am absolutely interested!

no gifs because it took me too long to eat dinner and now I don't have time to screen record and play with photoshop before bed but I'll get the canon dialogue so we can all be sad anyway

Thank you for asking about this, honestly, I think about it more often than is healthy and quite frankly I need to get it out somewhere that's not just Kit's text messages. She gets so much of my nonsense, bless her for putting up with it.

All of it is going under a read more because these topics get really heavy, especially when I really dig into it the way I'm planning on doing.

Warnings for: drug use/addiction, PTSD, survivor's guilt, depression, anxiety, death, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation

The very short version is this: Mouse gets a call from an old army superior with an offer to basically get his old job back (potentially a promotion from his old spot? canon tells us nothing) as a communications specialist with a new unit. He decides to take it, after getting his felony record cleared by Trudy, and quits his job with the CPD to reenlist.

Which like... I have complaints about, on the surface. We watched him go from a drug addict who relied on crime (and informing the police about crime) to survive, who was not taking care of himself and definitely dealing with PTSD and survivor's guilt and depression and anxiety (and undiagnosed autism but that's significantly less relevant here) in season one, to two years clean, holding a steady job, and looking physically healthier toward the end of season three. He was even more obviously confident in his abilities and was engaging socially with more people than just Jay, which is great for him. Go baby go.

To basically give up that progress, reject it in favor of going back to the exact same situation that made him into the addict we saw early on, feels like really lazy writing, at best. If that's on purpose? It borders on cruelty. something something the implication of him inevitably going back to that version of himself if he makes it back to Chicago alive at all because "once an addict always an addict" or whatever bullshit makes me so angry actually

And those are only my surface complaints. We haven't even gotten to my backstory deep dive, and all of the issues I have with the canon dialogue where he explains part of his reasoning behind the decision. Because the implications there are... not great. But we can start there and build to the rest of it.

Jay calls him out on exactly all of the above, when Mouse first brings up the idea of reenlisting in 4x02:

"You're serious-? Are you serious right now? [...] Do you forget what it did to you? Depression? Can't sleep at night? You want that? You want to be- you want to be calling me at three in the morning? You can't sleep, you're popping pills? "

I know I read into things a lot, especially with Mouse, but I'm not doing that here. Jay says it outright. Point blank to his face. This is what the war made him, last time, and he can't seriously be considering risking that again, right? this scene did give me Moustead canonically calling each other in the middle of the night though so it's not all bad that's my favorite crumb

And then 4x05 is after Mouse asks Voight to help with his record, and he's told no, but Jay is still actively trying to stop the reenlistment from happening. He himself goes to Voight about it in the first scene of the episode, desperately trying to keep his best friend safe - from the dangers that come from a war zone, from the risk of going back to all of that, from himself:

"Hey, Sarge... I heard Mouse came looking to get a felony dropped so he could reenlist. [...] I think he's carrying around a lot of guilt that we made it home safe and friends of ours didn't."

It's this attempt to get Voight to hold onto that decision, that no that means Mouse is essentially stuck with the CPD and can't leave the country and risk his life in the army again. Jay is absolutely in the wrong for meddling the way he did, going behind Mouse's back like that, but like... he's right. Everything he says is absolutely correct. Survivor's guilt can manifest in some destructive ways, and the urge to throw oneself back into the danger that nearly killed them the first time is one of those ways.

I think the fact that the case in 4x05 that the team is working on deals with a lot of overdose victims fed my angst loving heart just a little too well. But it, combined with my headcanon that Mouse tried to kill himself with an overdose in 2011 (this is a very specific headcanon, with a whole essay's worth of reasoning/explanation, but I mention it in a few fics, for some reason there's no post just about that headcanon? I'll fix that one day), and everything that led to it, definitely feeds into how absolutely gutted I feel any time I watch another scene in that episode, this one a conversation between Jay and Mouse:

M: You know, maybe Voight's right. Maybe I just need to clear out of here. J: What are you gonna do with your felony record? You gonna go back to boosting stereos? M: That guy on the board - that could have been me when I came back here - high, doing something stupid and dangerous. J: Greg, that is not you. That's not you now. M: I am telling you, Jay, if I lose my job because of a bender or whatever... I'm looking at Tyler, and that could've been me. It still could be me.

Between that subtle emphasis on telling you and the heavy implication that he could still be killed by (or lose his job because of) those old habits, with my headcanon that, at one point, they did almost kill him... it's very easy for me, personally, to read into that as Mouse trying to tell Jay, while not letting on to the rest of the team and making them worry, too, that he's feeling that way again. That he's suicidal again, that the level of stress he's feeling while working in Intelligence is driving him back to that point. This could very feasibly be part of the reason that Jay changes his mind on fighting him so hard on all of it between this conversation and their next scene together. However...

Even without the context of my headcanon, the conversation outright says that Mouse is actively thinking about how he might die. He's going to a place where he could potentially die every single day, and he's not concerned about it, not only that, but he seems to be welcoming it. If not suicidal, he's being reckless and careless with his life, telling Jay he's being pushed to the brink, actively concerned that he's taking just as much of a risk even if he stays in Chicago...

Mouse's exit actively undid all of the progress we got to see on screen, putting him right back where he started if not worse off - if he even lived long enough to make it home at all. And it makes me absolutely furious every time I think about it. It turned his arc of recovery into a net negative outcome, and in the best case scenario pushed him back into a potential cycle of trauma and addiction. And even a rushed exit doesn't have to be that cynical.

He could have easily had a more positive exit - maybe going back to school to finish his degree, if he's really set against the police academy. But this exit, and all of the awful, devastating implications that come with it, were a deliberate choice that shouldn't have been made.

TLDR;; Mouse's mental health was an absolute mess, to put it lightly, and I'm constantly confused about why his exit was allowed to play out like this, and how he could reasonably pass any psychological evaluation that would let him reenlist in the first place. yes I know the government and the armed forces specifically are awful about mental health and actively tell people not to report how they're feeling let me apply some logic to my anger please it keeps me sane