#I think it did! I think my theories hold water!

[thedailyvio]

Day 265

[notlongtolove]

the cup holds the tea

it hits you all at once and you’re out of the booth in a flash, spencer right behind you. you’ve barely made it to the sidewalk when the drinks betray you—straight onto spencer’s shoes. the world blurs, and all you can think, mortified, is that you’ve just broken one of the cardinal rules of dating.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff

content: bau!reader has too much to drink and its up to bf!spencer to get her home. and brief mentions of puke... oh reader...

word count: 3k

note: well personally i don't know if i could ever love someone enough where i would lay on my bed in my 'outside clothes' but good on you spence! once i slipped and fell in someone's puke and cried all the way home.

a line: They’ve seen Spencer look at a thousand things with fascination—books, theories, puzzles, statistics. But this? This is something else entirely.

It is a kind of love, is it not? How the cup holds the tea, How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare, How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes Or toes. How soles of feet know Where they’re supposed to be. - pat schneider

The room hangs on your words, the perfect moment of suspense stretched like a tightrope. You let it linger, savoring the pause.

“And they ate every last drop of it!”

The punchline lands, and laughter spills out around the table, loud and easy. You beam. Spencer watches you, his gaze warm, almost reverent. He’s always known you had this gift—how you could spin a story, command a room. If he weren’t so completely in love with you, he might’ve envied it. No amount of books or degrees could teach him your knack for recounting stories with such flair, or your ability to whip up comebacks at speeds that leave even Derek speechless.

Spencer’s lucky, and he knows it. His eyes trace the curve of your smile as you sip from your glass, your third—or fourth? He’s lost count. He notices you’re not wincing at its taste anymore and well, you know what they say when the drinks start to taste like water. The fact that you’re tearing up at something Garcia’s showing you—a sloth video, from what he can tell, doesn’t ease his worries in the slightest either. He's not entirely sure what Emily has been ordering for the table but whatever it is, it’s clearly doing its job.

It’s one of those rare nights out, the kind where the team sets work aside and pretends, for a few hours, that the weight of the world isn’t on their shoulders. Rossi had insisted, his treat he said, but Spencer suspects it was just an excuse for the team to watch you two loosen up, to let your guard down. A carefully orchestrated opportunity for the team to see something they hardly ever got to see. They’ve seen you two in the field, sharp and focused, in sync like clockwork. But tonight it's the way you lean into Spencer’s side without realizing it, the way Spencer gently moves your glass out of harm’s way when you gesture too wildly. This is a glimpse of something sacred, something rare.

It’d only been about a month since you and Spencer had made it official. Everyone saw it coming long before you did, but that didn’t stop the teasing once the news broke. They could barely pick their jaws up from off the floor even tonight when Spencer had his hand resting lightly on your waist, steadying you through the crowd as you laughed yourself breathless, stumbling. At work, you both keep it professional, steering clear of anything that might make Hotch raise an eyebrow. But the dim light of the bar is ever so tempting. The bar is full of loud laughter and clinking glasses and you just can’t help but take Spencer's hand into yours, fingers laced without hesitation. 

Spencer catches the way Derek’s eyes light up at the sight, the subtle nudge he gives Emily. He knows they’re going to bring this up later, probably all week.

But he doesn’t move his hand. He doesn’t let go.

The booth is packed tight as you’re all wedged together, shoulders brushing. Everyone’s smiling, unwinding in a way you rarely allow yourselves to, laughter bouncing in overlapping bursts. Spencer sits nursing his water, content to observe. His eyes are drawn back to you over and over, catching on the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh and the animated gestures you make as you speak.

“C’mon, pretty boy, live a little,” Derek teases, “Just one drink.”

Spencer gives a sheepish smile, waving it off. “I’m fine,” he says, eyes flicking over to you once more.

He can’t keep his eyes off you tonight, it seems. You’re laughing, and It’s unmistakable, the adoration in his gaze, something so un-Spencer-like that makes Derek smile.

He knows Spencer’s not one to drink. You, on the other hand, seem a little too eager, maybe encouraged by Emily’s coaxing, and you’re already on your next drink, cheeks bright and eyes sparkling. You lean into Garcia’s cheers, your glass lifted high. Your laughter is bright and unrestrained, pulling everyone else along with it.

Spencer considers saying something when you're giggling a little more than usual, laughing too hard at a joke that doesn't warrant it. But he knows how you’d take it. You’d wave him off with that familiar insistence, the same as always. It wasn't like you couldn't hold your own, Spencer knows that. You’d held your own at Rossi’s birthday last year just fine, outlasting nearly everyone—everyone except Rossi of course. And that’s probably why he’d already taken his leave tonight, not wanting to get caught in the tail end of whatever chaos this night will inevitably bring.

But that was then and now— Well, it’s different now. Now, the role of boyfriend sits heavier on his shoulders, a title he’s all too happy to hold. And tonight, it’s a card he’s all too happy to play. It gives him leverage, an edge that makes him feel like he has a little more room to step in without you pulling the I don’t need anyone to take care of me speech. 

Spencer sees his opening as lean back into his side a little too comfortably. “Here,” he murmurs, pressing his glass into your hand. “Drink this.”

He hopes you’re just tipsy enough not to ask too many questions, as long as it’s something from the bar. For a moment, it seems like it works—you sit up, eyeing the glass cautiously, then take it from him with slow deliberation.

Almost there, he thinks.

You peer into the glass, squinting at the clear liquid, then give it a small sniff. Spencer’s heart sinks as your expression shifts.

“This is water,” you say, suspiciously.

“Yes, it is,” he admits.

Your brow furrows, the faintest pout tugging at your lips. “I’m drinking vodka.”

“And now you’re drinking water.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you, and I’d rather not carry you out of here tonight,” he says softly, the faintest flush colouring his cheeks.

You look up at him, unimpressed, but he stays firm. “Just drink the water, sweetheart,” he says quietly, his voice barely cutting through the noise.

He braces himself for your resistance. Instead, you huff, give him a pointed glare, and drink it. He watches as you sip, your nose scrunching at the lack of a bite. Spencer lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

The night winds on, the team louder than usual, swept up in Derek’s overly dramatic retelling of the prank war that once took over the bullpen. But you’re quieter, Spencer notices, the drinks maybe finally settling in a little too fast. Your smile slower, your laughter softer, head resting on his shoulder now and again. 

And then, suddenly, you’re not looking so well. It hits you all at once. The queasy welling in your stomach, the cold sweat prickling your skin. You’re out of the booth in a flash, Spencer right behind you as you stumble toward the door, your hand clamped over your mouth. 

You’ve barely made it to the sidewalk when the drinks betray you—straight onto Spencer’s shoes. The world blurs, and all you can think, mortified, is that you’ve just broken one of the cardinal rules of dating.

Of all people it had to be Spencer—germ-conscious, always-prepared Spencer—your lovely boyfriend who at this moment you’re not sure you can ever look in the eyes again Spencer. 

You don’t have to look up to see the team’s reaction as they round the corner, wide-eyed as they process what just happened. Derek’s mouth falls open in disbelief, Emily stares in shock, and Garcia whispers a dramatic, “Oh, no…”

They’re frozen. Because Spencer—Spencer, who uses hand sanitizer like it’s an extension of his arm, Spencer who’s the first to scrunch his nose at anything remotely messy—has just had his shoes christened in the worst way. You know they’re waiting for Spencer’s reaction, the tense recoil, the carefully contained grimace.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, Spencer pauses, takes a measured breath, and steps closer to you, his hands steady on your shoulders. “Hey,” he asks, voice low and soothing as he crouches to meet your gaze. “Sweetheart, you okay?” He brushes your hair away from your face, his touch careful and kind.

“Spence—” you mumble, your voice cracking with embarrassment. Your hands fly to cover your face. “I’m so sorry. Your shoes—oh my God, your shoes—”

Spencer shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping as he crouches to steady you. His voice is impossibly gentle, calm in a way that eases the edges of your shame. “It’s fine. They’re just shoes,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your flushed face. “Let’s get you home, okay?” 

You nod, eyes shut, clearly mortified but he doesn’t let you dwell on it. He takes your hand, his grip firm but gentle. For a brief moment, Spencer contemplates asking the bartender for a glass of water to rinse off the mess, but he glances at you—your slightly swaying frame, the way your head droops just a little—and decides against it.

Getting you home safely takes precedence over everything else. Shoes can wait. You can’t.

Emily’s mouth falls open slightly as she watches, “Did Reid just…?” she murmurs, half to herself, as Derek gapes beside her. “Didn’t think the kid had it in him,” Derek says, shaking his head, a grin slowly spreading. Garcia sniffs, dramatically dabbing at her eyes. “I knew he loved her, but this? This is another level.” she says letting out a dreamy sigh. 

They linger, watching as Spencer guides you steadily toward the car with careful patience. He helps you in, crouching to fasten your seatbelt. You’re still mumbling apologies, your voice thick with embarrassment, but Spencer doesn’t falter. Instead, he shrugs off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders even as the mess on his shoes remains. There’s not even a hint of disgust on his face—if anything, he’s focused, caring, murmuring words of reassurance as he tucks his jacket around you. His hand lingers on yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a silent promise that nothing about this has shaken him. 

“I’m so sorry, Spence,” you whisper again, your voice small and heavy with guilt. “I ruined your shoes. And your jacket. And—”

“It’s fine. You’re fine. Besides, I was planning to throw them out anyway.”

You shake your head weakly, your tone petulant even through your embarrassment. “Nooo, don’t throw them out because of me.”

His lips twitch, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Well, what do you suggest I do with them, angel?”

“I’ll wash them,” you declare, your words slow and sleepy.

Spencer raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “You’ll wash them?”

“Mhmm,” you murmur, already halfway to drifting off against the seat.

“How about we get you home first and then worry about the shoes, okay?” he says gently.

“’Kay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as sleep begins to take hold.

Spencer stands, glancing back at the bar where the team is gathered. They’re not even pretending to hide their stares anymore, and he knows he’s going to hear about this for weeks. He raises a hand in a small, sheepish wave before climbing into the driver’s seat.

Derek shakes his head, laughing softly. “He’s gone,” he says, his voice carrying just enough awe to balance the humor. “Kid’s completely gone.”

Emily doesn’t need to ask what he means. Neither does Garcia. Because they’ve seen Spencer look at a thousand things with fascination—books, theories, puzzles, statistics. But this?

This is something else entirely.

The ride home is quiet, save for the occasional slurred apology from you. Spencer reassures you with the same soft patience each time, his hand steady on the wheel and his gaze flickering to you every so often, checking to make sure you’re okay. By the time he gets you home, your protests have faded, replaced by the heavy pull of exhaustion.

His arm remains firm around your waist, steadying you as he helps you inside, careful and methodical in the way he moves. He guides you to the bathroom, where you try to freshen up, fumbling with the faucet and splashing water on your face. Spencer steps in without hesitation and takes over when your movements falter. His touch is featherlight, but there’s no mistaking the care in every movement. The closeness makes your cheeks flush, though whether it’s from lingering embarrassment or something else entirely, you’re too tired to decipher.

“You don’t have to,” you murmur, your words sluggish but sincere.

“Of course I do,” he replies, his voice light but firm. “I want to.” 

He guides you to the bedroom with careful steps, his hand steady on the small of your back. Once there, he sets a glass of water on the nightstand, the gentle clink breaking the quiet.

“Drink,” he coaxes softly, his tone patient but firm.

You take the glass without protest, sipping obediently. Spencer watches, a small smile tugging at his lips. He considers making a playful comment about how quickly you’re drinking it now—so much easier than earlier—but he decides against it.

You’ve been through enough tonight, he thinks.

When he finally tucks you into bed, you’re too tired to resist. You mumble something incoherent, your hand brushing his as he leans in. Spencer pauses, his gaze lingering on your face—peaceful now, the traces of the evening’s mishaps melting away. He presses a light kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

Spencer steps out of the room, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear you if you call out. He lingers in the hallway for a moment, his shoulders sagging slightly now that the night’s adrenaline has begun to wane. He glances down at his shoes—still damp and stained. With a resigned sigh, he makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing a plastic bag. He slips the shoes inside, tying the bag tightly before heading outside. The cold air bites at his skin as he steps toward the dumpster behind his building.

He stands there for a moment, holding the bag. The sight of the shoes, oddly enough, makes him smile. It’s ridiculous, he knows. They’re just shoes. Ruined, stained, completely unsalvageable. But they’re also a reminder of tonight—a reminder of how he’d taken care of you, how you’d let him take care of you. 

With a soft thud, the bag lands in the dumpster. Spencer dusts off his hands, turning back toward the building. When Spencer steps back into his apartment, the soft hum of the heater greets him, a gentle reminder of the warmth waiting inside. And there you are, standing in his shirt in the doorway of his bedroom. Spencer thinks it's a sight he'll never get tired of.

There's a pout tugging at your lips. “Where’d you go?” you ask, your voice thick with sleep and just a hint of a whine.

“Had to throw out the shoes angel,” he says as he steps into the kitchen to wash his hands.

Your gasp is exaggerated like he’s just committed an unspeakable betrayal. “I thought I told you I’d wash them!” you exclaim, your voice rising. 

“And I thought I tucked you into bed,” Spencer counters, his laugh soft and full of affection. “Why are you out of bed sweetheart?”

You shuffle closer, blinking up at him with drowsy eyes. “Missed you,” you say simply, your earlier outrage regarding the shoes already forgotten. “Wanna cuddle.”

Spencer’s expression softens, but he gestures to his clothes. “I’m dirty,” he reminds you gently, “Outside clothes, remember?”

“Change then,” you reply stubbornly, tugging at his sleeve as though that’s the simplest solution in the world.

“I need to shower first,” he says, his voice patient as he begins to guide you back toward the bedroom.

“I didn’t shower either,” you argue, leaning heavily into his side as though that somehow strengthens your case.

“Because you’re drunk,” he replies with a small smile.

“Am not,” you insist, though your tone is far from convincing.

“Wanna tell that to my shoes?” Spencer teases, raising a brow.

You ignore him, brushing past his comment with a huff. “You’ll take too long,” you complain, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you too,” he replies, his voice tinged with amusement as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then cuddle,” you plead, your tone slipping into that sing-song quality you know he can’t resist. “Pleaseee”

Spencer hesitates, the logical part of him warring with the sight of you—soft, vulnerable, and looking at him like he hung the stars. He knows you’re usually the enforcer of the outside-clothes rule, a stickler for order when sober. But right now, you’re anything but sober, and he can’t find it in himself to deny you.

“Pleaseee,” you say again, drawing out the word for emphasis, “I’ll buy you new shoes,” your eyes wide and imploring.

He knows you probably will.

“Enough about the shoes,” Spencer rolls his eyes fighting back a smirk, “Just help me change the sheets tomorrow,” he relents, his voice warm with affection.

He knows you probably won’t. But he lets you drag him toward the bed anyways.

You beam, looping your arms around his waist in triumph. “Knew you wouldn’t say no,” you mumble into his chest.

Spencer laughs softly as you settle against him, burying your face in his chest with a soft, muffled sigh. He feels his heart swell in a way he can’t quite put into words. He’s never been one for mess—for dirt, grime, or anything out of place. Heck, he hadn't even wanted to shake your hand the first time he met you. It’s in his nature to keep things neat, orderly, clean. But now, with you?

His shoes could be ruined, his clothes crumpled, and the night an absolute whirlwind. And still, all he can think about is how peaceful you look now, your eyelids fluttering shut as sleep starts to claim you.

Spencer presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles along your back.

For you and only you, he thinks, he’d make an exception every time.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

[lovelytsunoda]

my fun // oscar piastri

(gif is by @/oscarcito!)

summary: it’s not every day that a first date lands you in the emergency room, or gives your date a concussion before the food has even left the kitchen

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

warnings: hospitals, blood, the awkwardness of a first date. low key inspired by season 1 episode 3 of the big bang theory when leonard and penny go on their not-date

yn yln must have been dreaming.

as she sat on one side of the wooden table inside the smokehouse, arms crossed in front of her as she looked over at her date, there was a part of her that kept telling her that there was no way it could be real.

she was quiet and smart, and could recite the entire periodic table in order from memory, and the boy sitting across from her was leagues prettier, with an athletes body and the ability to control a room with one singular lame joke.

he’d moved in across the hall from her earlier that year, and she and her friends had immediately dropped everything to watch shamelessley as the young man and his chiseled athlete friends and carried cardboard boxes up four flights of stairs.

oscar piastri was thinking the same thing. how a big famous athlete like him got someone as sweet and humble as yn to agree to date with him. sure she was awkward, and sometimes very shy, but at her core, she was sweet and funny and kind. not to mention the simple beauty of someone who never wore makeup (not to say oscar wouldn’t have adored it if she did, he just knew that she was pretty without it as well).

neither party really knew what to say, sitting in a nervous silence with the menus spread in the table, a glass bottle of water from the waiter sitting next to two half-full glasses.

oscar reached for the popcorn, a sweet and salty mix he quite enjoyed, trying not to tip the bag over as he contemplated what size brisket to order.

“hey, do you want to see something neat?” oscar blurted, picking out for decently sized pieces of the sweet popcorn. “do you know how to juggle?”

“juggle?” his date asked hesitantly, eyeing him over the popcorn. “you do?”

“went to a circus camp when i was seven.” oscar shrugged. “there’s not much to do in my part of australia to be fair.”

it took a few tries for oscar to get started, but soon enough, he was juggling with the popcorn, the kernels delicately passing through his pale, calloused hands.

and believe it or not, yn was impressed. she broke out in a wide smile, giggling from her seat as she watched the young man in front of her. he had a goofy smile on his face, and seemed well in his element. he caught her eye across the table, stuttering his movements as he shot her a wink, losing two kernels. the kernels rolled under the table, and the boy cursed.

“don’t worry about it, that was really impressive.” yn laughed. “nobody has ever juggled popcorn for me on a first date.”

oscar laughed. “glad to be of service.” he took a small bow before accidentally knocking the steak knife off the edge of the table, wincing at the sound of metal hitting floor.

he cursed, pushing his chair back. “I should probably pick that up, shouldn’t I?”

“can you reach it with your foot? it might be easier.”

“don’t worry, I’ve got it!” oscar insisted, slipping off the chair.

“are you sure?” yn asked hesitantly, bare knees pressed against the cool cast iron that was holding the slats of the table together.

oscar slipped under the table, on his hands and knees in the dark smokehouse as he fumbled around the the steak knife, crushing two kernels of popcorn underneath his khaki pants in the process.

yn, meanwhile, was hyper aware of the fact that her date, who she barely knew, was crawling around under the table, in public, near her slightly parted legs.

oh my god, she thought. do they think he’s going down on me?

there was a bang under the table, the slats shaking. she reached over the menus to grab the glass water bottle as it threatened to topple over.

“oscar?” she shouted “you alright?”

“yeah.” his voice came out strained, almost as if he was hurt. “hey, did you happen to spill any ketchup?”

she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, as a droplet of something warm fell against her toe through the lip of her sandals. “no. there isn’t any on the table.”

“fuck. I think I might need an ambulance.”

————

the emergency room is not where she wanted to spend her first date. it smelled like antiseptic soap, the lights too clinical and the plastic chairs too stiff. her neighbour looked pale, skin stained red from where he had bled.

as she understood it, oscar had hit his head on the cast iron hard enough to draw blood, but not enough that he was at risk of trauma or hemorrhaging.

or at least, that’s what the off-duty medic seated two tables over had said.

“how much blood do you think I’ve lost?” oscar wondered aloud, almost certain he was concussed. “if it’s less than a pint, I should be fine.”

yn laughed, rubbing him on the shoulder. “oscar, you’re fine. you still have most of your blood.”

“I’m so sorry our date ended like this. I ruined everything.” he exhaled, leaning to rest his head against the wall, still clutching g the bag of frozen peas given to him by kitchen staff against his cut.

she smiled to herself, reaching for his free hand. “what makes you think you’ve ruined anything?”

“the fact that there’s blood streaming down my face? or that were in the emergency room instead of sharing a hot chocolate fudge cake?”

they both laughed at the sheer absurdity of their situation, and yn resisted to urge to rest her head on his shoulder.

“you’re quite the man, oscar piastri. maybe you can make it up to me? I’m sure the smokehouse will be tripping over themselves to give us a free meal after tonight.”

oscar laughed lowly, a look of pain crossing his eyes. “you’d still want to go out with me after tonight?”

“of course I would, you adorable idiot.”

oscar looked like he was about to say something else when a tired-looking nurse in pink scrubs came rushing out of a hallway.

“mr and mrs piastri?”

yn flushed, her face heating up under the nurses gaze. “oh no, we’re not married. not even together, really.”

with all the energy he could, oscar winked at her before shakily getting to his feet in the sterile room. “wait for me, my love.”

yn laughed, watching him walk towards the nurse.

as far as first dates go, this one wasn’t bad at all, was it?

[samkerrworshipper]

underneath the surface

umm so i’m back.. kind of? this fic was a rollercoaster but i hold it very near and dear to my heart. i hope you all enjoy it and find some comfort in it because i definitely do <3

warnings: no warnings just some medical jargon and talks of endometriosis!

Alexia has always been credited for her attentiveness.

Most people say that it’s the reason she’s such a good captain, and of course, she denies to everybody that she just goofs around less than some of her teammates.

But, inevitably, it’s true, Alexia is a lot more attentive than other people. She pays attention to the small things, the under the surface things, things that most people wouldn’t bat an eyelid at.

Although, in her opinion, she doesn’t need to be observant nor attentive to be curious about this one part of your relationship.

It doesn’t take brilliant observation skills to recognise a pattern, from the age of two most people are able to recognise patterns. For a two year old, it’s colours and shapes and different farm animals. For Alexia it’s become an observation.

It’s routine, a pattern, a constant repeat in your relationship that for the first few months she ignored.

Like a broken record constantly repeating itself, every month, without fail, you disappeared for a couple of nights.

Not literally, for those days you’ll retreat of the pitch and inside to the gym but Alexia still sees you everyday, and for the most part, you’ll still go out for coffee with her and go on walks together, but for at least three nights, sometimes up to 7, there are no sleepovers, no late night movie binges, no dinners.

It went unnoticed by Alexia for longer than normal, love was Alexia’s biggest weakness and it subtly impaired her abilities to be as observant as she prided herself.

Who could blame her? It was hard to be detail oriented when she was too busy enjoying the puppy dog love that came from realising that she was so in love with her life with you, even if it was still relatively new.

But, even with her focus partially impaired, it didn’t take a whole lot of skills to recognise the abnormality of what was occurring.

It was particularly abnormal, because for every other day of the month, you spent your nights at Alexia’s. Alexia would even go as far to say that you're pretty much moved into her apartment. Your dog had a bed in her apartment, your training kit and bag had a permanent spot at her door, most of your clothes were now sitting next to Alexia’s in her wardrobe.

Your apartment, for the most part, existed purely for the sake of storing all of your furniture. Alexia had brought up leasing it, you’d been dating for almost a year now and whilst it was a short time to move in with each other, the two of you spent so much time together that to her it made the most sense. Beyond that, it was her way of testing the water, to see if her observation was as real as she began to think it was.

Your immediate denial of the idea confirmed what she had been beginning to think.

Originally, she’d thought that maybe you were overwhelmed from constantly being around Alexia, it was a lot being at training together all day and then heading home to each other.

It didn't make sense though.

When you were together, you were attached at the hip. You were both naturally clingy towards each other and after questioning Mapi about it, as ambiguously as she could, she was backed up in that it wasn’t normal behaviour for an overwhelmed person to be so eager to be so connected.

So, the theory was canned and when the following month the same thing happened, Alexia’s curiosity peaked once again.

She moved onto a theory that maybe it was some kind of homesickness, that you just needed to sleep in your own bed a couple of nights every month.

But not only did you constantly complain about your own apartment and how unhomey it felt in comparison to Alexia’s, it was always the same week every month.

Which should have been the biggest clue, and yet for whatever reason it had completely slipped past Alexia.

It was only when one of the team doctors had approached Alexia about her cycle changing, that it all clicked for her.

Alexia’s period had skipped, and they’d logged it a couple of months ago. Obviously, without noticing, it had been because the two of you had synched up, which made plenty of sense.

Alexia’s period was an inconvenience, but it wasn’t a true bother, just something she had to put up with. In all honesties though, for her, her period was nothing to her, she had hardly any symptoms, her body functioned the exact same way, everything was almost the exact same.

Yet, every month, when apparently your period came around, you happened to disappear for a couple of days. Alexia would have loved to think it was a coincidence, but with her new knowledge, she decided to put it to test.

She wasn’t surprised, when the following month her own period came, a couple of days later you were back to hiding out at your place for a couple of nights.

Like lightwork, when you came back to Alexia, you were the exact same, like nothing had happened, and yet Alexia was certain that there was something being hidden underneath the surface.

A lot of people were insecure about their period, Alexia had grown up in a house full of girls, her period had been anything but stigmatised, and she was grateful for that.

She was self aware enough though to know that not everybody was fortunate enough to have that same experience. She was also aware that unfortunately, sometimes peoples partners could be unaccepting and close minded about those kinds of things.

So, when the following month, Alexia got her period and without fail, four days later you mentioned that you would drive yourself to training so that you could head back to your apartment afterwards, Alexia was already plotting away.

She had time to think about it during video review that day, there wasn’t a lot to focus on then when the team was coming off of a 4-0 win to Atletico and anything that was of importance, aAlexia had already noted when she’d watched the immediately after the game.

It was a sound plan in her mind, chocolate, a heat pack, your favourite italian takeaway, Alexia’s favourite hoodie that you always tried to steal and your favourite blanket from her apartment.

Alexia wanted you to know that you could be just as comfortable in her home, regardless of what was happening. Hopefully, in knowing that, you’d let go of the part of you that was so clearly avoiding Alexia.

Alexia, above being observant, liked to be a problem solver. She liked to take initiative, she liked to fix things.

So, after a shower and a quick snack when she’d returned home, she packed up all of the supplies. On the way to your apartment, which she hadn’t visited in months, she picked up food and then was on her way.

In the early months of your relationship, it had just been easier for the two of you to spend time at Alexia’s because it was closer to the training grounds and more lived in.

Whilst you’d been living in Barcelona now for nearly three years, your home was still in England, and it had been hard for you to fully settle into Barcelona even if it was your home for now.

Alexia knew it, so she’d welcomed you into her home with open arms. It had been heartwarming for her to slowly watch you integrate yourself into Alexia’s life, it made her happier then anything else.

So, she made her mind up that whatever this bump was, she was going to help you get over it, so that she could have all of you, and most importantly so you would feel like Alexia cared.

The feeling that Alexia got as she pulled up next to your car in the lot of your apartment was chilling, in her gut it felt like something was wrong. It was a feeling that set into Alexia's stomach as she stepped out of her car and hurried to collect her things before making her way over to the elevator.

Alexia stays as composed as she can manage, even though on the inside, the worry is starting to set in.

It’s not like theoretically she has anything to worry about, it’s not like this is an abnormal situation, but the weird feeling in Alexia’s stomach is putting her off and the only thing that she can think will make it better is seeing your face.

All Alexia wants to do is wrap you up in her arms for a moment, for her own peace of mind, to stop the off feeling that has been resonating inside of her as she’s tried to get to the bottom of this problem, that’s not really a problem. It’s an inconsistency, and one thing about Alexia is that she doesn’t like inconsistency. She fixes problems, she doesn’t enjoy living life whilst there is something that isn’t quite right, and she needs to make this right.

Alexia knocks at your door quietly, two little raps that she hopes you hear.

When she receives nothing in response, she knocks again, this time a little bit louder.

Alexia waits a few seconds, whilst it’s been a couple of hours since your session there is the off chance that you're in the shower or bath.

After quite a bit of waiting with no noises from the other side of the door, Alexia knocks once more, already pulling her keychain from her pocket and feeling for the spare key to your apartment.

When she finds it, she pulls it up to the lock, waiting just a few more seconds before slotting it into the keyhole and twisting it until it clicks.

The first thing Alexia notices is that your apartment is completely pitch black and if it weren’t for the fact that she saw your car earlier, she might have just left.

Alexia tiptoes her way through the entryway and into your kitchen, it’s hard to see much with all of the blinds pulled shut and none of the lights on, so she blindly feels around for the light switch until she finally finds it and flicks it.

The immediate groan that comes from the direction of your couch definitely does not go unnoticed by Alexia.

“Lights off.”

As fast as she can, Alexia turns the light back off, before curiously tiptoeing over to the edge of your couch.

You’re a lump under a pile of blankets, but she’s able to make out the shape of your body underneath it.

“Hey baby.”

You groan again, and the feeling in Alexia’s stomach only gets worse.

Alexia takes a few steps forwards, assessing you in front of her.

Her hand reaches out tentatively for you, she feels around the mass of blankets until she feels a part of your body underneath the pile of fluff, she follows the lump until she makes her way up to your head.

Your whole body is warm, or the blankets are warm, she isn’t actually quite sure where the blankets end and your body starts.

“Why are you here?”

Your voice is all croaky, and Alexia is certain you must be sick and she’s somehow missed all the symptoms of it.

“I wanted to spend the night with you.”

Alexia’s hand finally finds a bit of skin on your neck and she traces her fingers until she finds your jawline.

“Go home, Ale.”

The sound of your voice is making Alexia antsy, she can’t believe she’s missed the fact that you are sick.

“No, bebita, you’re sick and I’m here to look after you. I have your favourite food and chocolate, we can cuddle up in bed and you can sleep this off. I brought my hoodie for you.”

Alexia turns your head up, so your hair is peaking out of the blanket mound and she can see your squinted eyes.

“I’m not sick, Alexia.”

You keep your eyes crammed shut for the sake of not making the pounding headache you have any worse.

“Bebita, you’re all hot and croaky, it’s okay to be sick, I’m here to look after you.”

If you weren’t working so hard to keep your eyes closed you’d roll them, but that seems like far too much work for right now.

“Alexia I’m not sick, I’m just on my period.”

Alexia’s brow furrows, if your eyes weren’t closed you’d catch it. It’s the same furrow that always happens when Alexia thinks somebody else is wrong and she’s right.

“Bebita, this seems like a little bit more than a period. It’s okay, I’m here.”

You groan and Alexia recoils slightly.

“It’s just my period.”

Your deadpan makes Alexia confused.

“Your period shouldn’t be this bad. Are you having some heatstroke? It’s been warm out today, or are you having a migraine? You need to remember to hydrate.”

Your head is throbbing and Alexia’s theories aren’t helping.

“I have endometriosis Alexia, this is what my period looks like.It’s not fucking heatstroke or a sickness it’s just how my body is..”

Out of everything Alexia had been suspecting, that wasn’t it.

It suddenly dawns on Alexia that she can’t fix what you’ve just told her, she’s standing in front of you completely dumbfounded at what to do in this moment.

Alexia is a problem solver, she finds solutions for the biggest and smallest problems, and yet she doesn’t have a solution for the problem she is being faced with.

“Baby, just go home, the first night for me is always the worst, if I feel better I can hang out with you tomorrow.”

Alexia doesn’t have a solution to the pain you are going through, but she knows she isn’t going to let you suffer alone. The information that you’ve been doing this by yourself for a year now is making Alexia feel like the worst girlfriend ever and she’s going to change that.

“No, bebita, no. I’m staying here tonight, I’m here for you mi vida. Would it make you feel better if we got you into bed or into a bath? What’s going to make you more comfortable? Have you had medication? How about some food?”

When another groan leaves your lips, Alexia becomes aware that she’s approaching this the wrong way.

“How about I go and put the food in your kitchen and you decide what’s going to make you feel best. I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”

Alexia quietly tiptoes back into your kitchen, taking her time to put her things away and pulling two bottles of water from your fridge before making her way back into your living room.

You’ve emerged from your pile by the time she is back, your eyes are still closed but just seeing your face makes Alexia’s nerves settle just a little bit.

“Can we go to my bed, please?”

Alexia smiles at you softly.

“Of course amor, do you want me to carry you or do you think you can walk?”

The apprehension on your face is enough of a answer for Alexia.

She walks over towards you, picking up your blanket fort and body like it’s nothing and gently lifting you up, stepping carefully in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan out at the change of position, nothing feels good at the moment but Alexia’s arms are more comforting than the scratchy material of your couch cushions.

When she makes it to your bed, she lowers you down like you are the most delicate piece of glass, making sure that you’re tucked underneath the sheets before easing you out of your arms.

“Do you need anything? Heat pack? Water? Talk?”

Again, all Alexia’s words do is make the itching pain all over your body ten times worse, it’s all consuming and makes you feel choked.

“Bed, hugs, that’s all I want.”

Alexia is antsy, she wants to make the pain you are in better, she wants to know what to do right now instead of being completely blind in the situation.

“Are you sure? How about some pain relief or a cold compress?”

Alexia is no doctor, and up until five minutes ago she had absolutely no idea about this whole situation and whether she feels like she can admit it or not she’s terrified about it all.

She’s made up her mind that as soon as you're asleep she’s going to go on a deep dive of google searches to get to the bottom of this whole situation, but that will have to wait.

“Alexia, if you want to be here, just get into bed and give me some fucking hugs. I’m not in the mood to be told what to do with my body when I’ve been dealing with this for years, make up your mind of whether you want to be here or not.”

Alexia avoids conflict with you at all costs, she’s earned the title around your football friends of being your puppy dog, because she simply agrees to anything and everything that leaves your lips, and hearing you remotely mad at her makes her crumble.

“Sorry bebita, I’m so sorry, you’re right. I’m here for whatever you need.”

Alexia makes quick work of slipping her shoes off, something she never got around to in the darkness of your entryway.

She follows by taking her socks and outer layers off, stripping down until she’s in her tank top and a pair of old Barcelona training shorts.

Once she’s done she creeps around to the other side of your bed, slipping underneath the covers as subtly as she can manage.

When she’s completely covered, she lies back, unsure of how to approach all of this new information.

“You’re lying like a rigid corpse.”

Alexia gulps, she can see you in her peripherals, you look absolutely exhausted and in the kindest way possible, ten years older with the amount of wrinkles across your skin, bumps and ridges she can only imagine are the tightness holding in all of the struggle that you’re going through underneath the surface.

“Alexia, I’m okay, I’m not dying.”

Alexia knows theoretically that is true, she doesn’t have endometriosis and she’s not close to anybody who does, but she knows what it is. She knows it’s not cancer or something life-threatening, but the depth of the realisation that you’ve been suffering for so long and have kept it from Alexia is slowly pulling her apart at the seams.

You roll over slightly, it causes shocks of pain to go up and down your back and stomach, but you need the comfort as much as Alexia does, even if she isn’t ready to accept it.

She’s going through her process, compartmentalising all of it so she can be the brave and stoic face she always is.

You’re used to it, and you’ve come to realise that even though in these kinds of situations it seems like Alexia needs to be left alone, in reality she needs to be kept close by her nearest and dearest.

So, you worm your way on top of her body, it makes the cramps ten times worse and the nausea takes control of your stomach, forcing somersault after somersault, but when Alexia’s arms reach around you out of instinct it’s worth it.

You’re in pain, your uterus feels like it’s got knives embedded along the lining of it, like there are needles poking in and out of your back and gunshots being fired across your lower abdomen. But you’re well used to it, you’re used to the feeling of needing to throw up from having such intense throbbing pain across your whole core.

You’re used to the pounding headaches and migraines that come naturally from your body being so inflamed and agitated that all the tension eventually spreads to every single inch of your body, from the tips of your fingers to the edges of your toes.

Your head settles on Alexia’s shoulder, and her hand snakes it’s way down to the outside of your thigh, she’s being more cautious than she’s ever been with you and the normal you would probably be heartwarmed by her sweetness but the part of you that is currently seeing the worst kind of stars because of the cramps coursing through your body is just desperate to climb into her bones now that she is here with you.

It’s been ingrained in you since you were a kid that it was best to not bother other people with your weakness, it was your own struggle, your own burden.

You’d kept it from Alexia for this sole purpose, for the purpose that you knew she would take it all on as her problem, that she would try and fix it all and spend all of her time and energy trying to solve it all when you just wanted her to treat you the exact same.

She treated you like a princess everyday, but add a crippling reproductive condition and you knew she’d treat you like a priceless artefact. You were grateful you had a person in your life who would move heaven and earth in such a way for you but it was suffocating sometimes, when you were functioning on a normal level.

It was with those thoughts running rampant in your head that you slipped off into the same light sleep that you were lucky to drift into in these circumstances.

Whilst you drifted off, Alexia was left alone with her own thoughts.

Insecurity wasn’t something Alexia experienced often, she was secure in her body, she is as secure in her football as she has been since her knee injury, she’s secure in her family and up until today she felt completely secure in her relationship.

Now, she doesn’t know how she feels.

She knows that it’s likely you have a good reason to have kept this a secret, or a reason that you’ve justified to yourself. She knows underneath it all, you’re the one who’s secretly been hiding a big insecurity from her and she has no right to be truly mad about it, she’s disappointed that you haven’t felt able to share this with her when it feels like Alexia has bared all of her deepest, boniest secrets with you.

She does what makes sense, she reaches for her phone from her short pocket and begins to google all of the big questions that are swirling around in her mind.

You might have wanted to keep this a secret from Alexia but now that she knows about it she’d be a bad girlfriend if she didn’t educate herself on this.

So, instead of drifting off to sleep, Alexia drifts off into the land of medical journals and words that she doesn’t understand the meaning of but she’s determined to figure out.

You wake up in the morning in less of a state of excruciating suffering, instead of being stuck in a fiery inferno of hell you feel like you're dancing more on the periphery.

Your body is warm, in a way that makes you feel less like your insides are scorching you from the inside and more like you're generally just hot.

It feels like a caterpillar emerging from its cocoon as you try to unroll from the blankets that you’d swaddled yourself in the night beforehand in an attempt to try and make yourself feel as small as possible in hopes it would somehow shrink down everything you were feeling.

It’s a feverish dream, and as you recall your night, blotches begin to come back to you and the memory of your girlfriend appearing somewhere along the way makes the dull cramps across the front of your stomach beat in a way that makes you uncomfortably uneasy all over again.

As you assess your surroundings and open your eyes for what feels like the first time in months, you notice that Alexia is no longer in bed with you.

It’s all extremely faint in your head and there is an off chance you’ve dreamt it all up, but the very faint smell of coffee drifting through the air and folded up clothes sitting on the dresser on the wall across from your bed.

You’re feeling less deathly than last night, so you wager your chances with slowly sitting up in your bed, when you don’t feel any different you begin to lift your legs up.

Your muscles ache in the same way they do every time your period comes around, they tweak and they constrict like you’re an eighty year old instead of a twenty something.

It’s rough, it’s uncomfortable and it’s painful but it’s life.

It’s your life, it’s your burden, it’s your problem and knowing that Alexia is now a part of it all makes you queasy in a completely different way.

Your heavy on your feet as you stand up and begin to creep towards the door of your bedroom, with every step every one of your toes grinds against the floorboards. Your heel digs in, your ankles crunch, your body moves in a way that mirrors the way that you are crumbling from within. On these kinds of days, weeks and months, everything hurts. Everything is an effort.

Once you make it to your open door, you steady yourself against it, your nerves are working against you, everything inside of you is actively trying to stop you and you’ll be damned if you let it happen.

You only stand still long enough for it to be classified in your brain as a stall, not a break, not a stop. You can’t stop in times like this, if you stop then you’ll never get going again and that is a whole pit of fuckedupness that you aren’t ready to dive into.

From the door, you try your hardest to tiptoe your way through the hallway to your living space, but it’s impossible in your body.

As you inch closer, the sound of Alexia only becomes more apparent and obvious, and as you creep closer the agitation across your body only gets worse.

As you reach the archway between your hallway and living space, the sight in front of you makes your heart throb and your uterus ache even worse then it already is.

Alexia is swaying in your kitchen, apparently to whatever music she has playing in her head. There is coffee on the counter, accompanied by two bottles of juice and water, like she couldn’t decide what would be best. To accompany the extra drinks is toast, eggs, bacon and pancakes on the stove.

It’s too much.

With the combination of hormones in your bloodstream you’re honestly impressed that you don’t burst into tears.

Alexia’s still here.

Alexia, sweet, loyal Alexia.

You’ve been conditioned to keep all of this a secret, that during this week it’s best to keep yourself and everything you’re going through hidden, for the best of yourself and for everyone around you. Yet, here Alexia is doing way too much for you.

You’re downward spiralling when her voice breaks you out.

“Hey bebe.”

Her voice is close to a coo, the same voice she uses with Irene’s son. You don’t let it affect you in the moment, but you’ll think about the tactic of it later.

“I have food for you, and coffee if you want it, but google told me that sometimes that’s not always good for endometriosis. So I got juice as well, because google also said it might help with inflammation.”

The thought behind it is extremely sweet, and you feel slightly overwhelmed by all of the options.

“You didn’t need to do that for me.”

Alexia frowns, it’s slight and hardly noticeable, but the little wrinkle between her eyebrows is an immediate tell.

“I wanted to, I want to help you, however I can.”

The sentiment behind her words is lost in the sudden shock that you experience as her words settle in, you’ve never met a single person, besides a doctor whose job it was to help you, that gave a shit about this.

When you have no words, Alexia finds some for you.

“I want to talk to you about this, I want to know about it, I want to help you. We’re partners, we do everything together, and I want to do this with you. I don’t want you to lock me out and I don’t want you suffering alone. I’m here for this, I’m here for you to lean on.”

You nod your head, her words feel like a drug, like it’s lifting away some of the pain you’re going through.

“I’m serious, this isn’t something you can hide from me. You looked after me when I hurt my knee and I am here to look after you in the same way when you’re in pain. Bebita?”

Alexia’s hand falls to your side, caressing your hip gently.

“I’m not used to people knowing about this, and I’m even more not used to people caring, I’m sorry, it’s just a lot to process.”

Alexia’s face softens, and before you can say any other stupid mumbles, she pulls you from the hip into her body. Her arms are warm, and yet oddly they soothe your prickly skin.

You melt into Alexia, you feel like shit but she makes you feel marginally better.

“Coffee, or juice?”

You stifle a giggle that falls from your lips.

“Juice, please.”

Alexia relaxes her arms, taking a step back.

“Can I get you any pain relief, or a new heat pack? Is your headache better?”

Alexia looks at you with so much genuine care that it’s hard to not feel embarrassed.

“Pain relief doesn’t sit well in my stomach on a good day. I save heat packs for when the cramps are really bad or else they don’t have the same effect. My headaches normally are at the end of the day as a result of tension build up during the day.”

Alexia looks as if she’s taking mental note of everything you’ve just told her, for later.

“How about some food, hmm?”

You want to say yes, because Alexia’s clearly gone to so much effort for you, but you know that if you eat this early and then train your stomach contents is going to end up on a pitch or somewhere inconvenient.

“My stomach won’t keep it if we train later, I’m better to eat afterwards.”

Alexia’s brow furrows once again.

“I called the doctor and Pere this morning, we’re both taking today off.”

Everything warm and good about the moment fades, and suddenly all you feel is confusion.

“Why did you do that?”

Alexia steps away from you and retreats into your kitchen, grabbing a glass for you and picking up the bottle of juice that she knows you prefer.

“Because I thought you were dying last night, and you can’t tell me that all of that has just disappeared this morning. You’re struggling and you don’t need to push through pain to prove that you are worthy or good enough. You’re self worth shouldn’t be dictated by you proving to yourself that you can work through a chronic disease. I’m sorry that I didn't notice earlier and that I wasn't there for you earlier but I'm here to advocate for you now.”

You want to tell Alexia that you don’t need an advocate, you can advocate just fine for yourself. But a part of you knows that she doesn’t want to hear it and that part of you is also the part that is crippling from the inside and simply doesn’t have the energy to argue with your girlfriend.

“I train just fine normally.”

Alexia can’t argue that, even though you spend the time in the gym, she’s never heard of anything out of the ordinary occurring.

“But you don’t have to. In fact when I talked to our doctor she told me that she’d been insisting on you being more cautious of your cycle and spending more time resting during it considering your history.”

You roll your eyes, taking the glass of juice Alexia offers you.

Alexia plates up a breakfast that could feed a family of four, but it makes you feel less bad for not eating any of it.

“It’s my body, I know my limits.”

You focus on your glass of juice and not the face Alexia makes at you.

“You know how to continuously meet and exceed your limits, but what about just leaving them and giving yourself some peace. I know nothing about what you are going through, I can only sympathise. But I know this must be incredibly hard and I know you definitely do not give yourself enough grace and definitely don’t care for your needs enough. I’m here for you to confide in, I’ve done my research, I’m prepared to help however you need.”

It’s endearing how clearly prepared Alexia has made herself.

“You’ve done your research, hmm?”

Alexia nods proudly.

“Lots of it. Like about how orgasms can help with cramps.”

She looks like she’s going to say more, but you splutter your juice straight back into your cup, causing her to stop.

Alexia’s always been more open with her sexuality then you are, it’s culturally more acceptable in Spain but she also grew up with it being slightly more normalised.

“Alexia.”

Her grin is broad, like she’s proud that she’s managed to embarrass you.

“It’s true! Although for some people endometriosis can cause pain whilst having sex, so if you’re one of those people then it may not work but if you want to try I’m happy to help, fingers, toys, everything but mouths is on the table.”

Your blush only gets more cemented.

“I’m okay for right now, the thought of any kind of intimacy makes my fallopian tubes ache.”

Alexia nods her head, you are certain that sometime in the future this topic will arise again. Alexia’s rabbit-like sex drive makes it hard to not involve sex in everything you do together.

“Can I ask what your symptoms normally look like?”

Alexia’s lip is caught between her teeth, it’s the first time she’s looked nervous this entire conversation.

“Of course. Normally for me, I get bad pelvic pain which never really goes away, sweats, fever sometimes, cramps everywhere, i bloat, i get quite nauseous and occasionally it can make me moody. Furthermore, it can cause me to have migraines, some joint pain, insomnia, there are other things but those are the main ones. Overall it just makes me drained, i’m more fatigued but I can’t sleep, it makes me feel pretty lifeless.”

Alexia nods, she listens to every single word with so much attention.

“I always assumed the scars on your stomach were from getting your appendix removed, but I’m assuming now it’s a laparoscopy?”

You’re impressed by the level of detail Alexia has gone to for you.

“I have had my appendix removed but also yes, I’ve had two laparoscopy’s and I’m putting off getting my third done.”

Alexia nods.

“Do they make it better?”

You bite your lip before nodding.

“It’s never perfect, but for a bit it definitely makes my symptoms better. I’m putting off getting my next one because the last time I did it put me out of action for two months and it took me a while to get back to where I was. My body is different, it changes you. Before you ask, I’ve tried birth control, I’ve tried IUD’s, I’ve tried other forms of contraception, they all made it impossible for me to play football.”

Alexia shakes her head.

“I wasn’t going to ask you that, it’s your decision what you do and don’t put in your body, and I’m sure you’re just making whatever decisions work best for you.”

It’s refreshing having somebody not question what you do and don’t do for yourself.

“That means a lot to me.”

Alexia puts down her cutlery, her food somehow disappearing into her stomach.

“It’s just what love is, and I’m here to love you for forever, if you’ll let me.”

You’ve put off crying, you’ve tried your very best, but it’s not possible anymore.

The tears fall freely, and before you know it Alexia has pulled you into her lap.

It hurts, everything hurts, and yet everything feels so much better knowing you’re in her arms.

“I’ve got you bebita, I’m here now, I’m here to help you work this all out.”

——————————————————————

whelp that’s done! thoughts, feedback and general opinions would be appreciated! i’m so happy to have made something for yall and it’s rushed and super unedited and definitely not my favorite work but i hope you enjoy it all the same 🫶

[themultifanshipper]

Heyy sooo I was thinking “I love you but right now I just need you to bend over and take it” with George and reader! Maybe George has a breeding kink and after seeing her with his family kids over the holiday he really wants to get her pregnant?? Maybe boat sex since they were all on a boat?? 😅

This was the last straw for George. Seeing you interact with his nieces and nephews during family gatherings was bad enough, but the way you were now taking care of them during summer vacation as if they were your own was igniting a perverse hunger within George, and he was determined to do something about it.

Warnings: Smut, panty gag, boat sex, specifically yacht sex, semi-public sex?, idk if benjy has a son, oc if not, dirty talk, breeding kink, george just being feral tbh, no prep, bad etiquette, but no pain bc this is fiction. Perhaps an intervention is in order? Idk

Requested from my prompt list

It came to a head when you were cooking on the yacht for his nephew.

That day it was just you, George, his brother Benjy, and benjy's son. The rest of the family had decided to stay firmly on land for the day.

The little guy was hungry and you had volunteered to make a plate of his favorite pasta, leaving him up on the deck with his father.

George was sat behind you watching you work, whipping up a quick sauce and waiting for the water to boil.

It drove George nuts how attentive you were to his family members’ needs and how well you had integrated into the family.

And seeing you look after kids was the cherry on top, and made him think more and more about starting a family of his own.

The two of you had agreed though, no kids as long as George was an f1 driver. You didn't want to put that kind of strain on your family, and if something were to happen to him you didn't want your kid growing up without a father.

But the two of you had needs, and condoms were a bit of a hassle when you have sex as much as you two did, so you got an implant. In theory it was impossible to get you pregnant.

That wasn't going to stop George from giving it a bloody good go, though.

“How long is the pasta supposed to take?” he asked as you poured it in to the boiling water.

“About six minutes?” you replied “why?”

You hadn't noticed him set an alarm, then sneak up behind you until his hands were wrapped around your waist and he lifted you up and away from the stove.

“Good, plenty of time for me to fill you up” he growled into your ear as you squealed and writhed in his hold.

“George-!”

He pushed you down onto the table and made quick work of your shorts and underwear, dragging them down you legs and stuffing your panties in you mouth. “I love you but right now I just need you to bend over and take it”

You tried to protest through the cotton but it was no use, he grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back.

“Can't have the kid hearing what we're doing down here. What kind of parents would that make us?”

You moaned as he slid his tip over your quickly dampening folds. “Don't have time to prep you, baby. Think you can take me just like this?”

You shuddered and moaned through the fabric and he chuckled.

“Of course you can take me. You can take everything I give you because you're such a good girl, aren't you?”

George’s praise never failed to make you melt, and your body slumped over the table so that your legs wouldn’t have to take any weight.

He held you down as he slid inside you slowly, your back arching against his hold.

To say he was gentle would have been a lie. He was rough and demanding, but passionate, as he plastered himself over your back and bullied his cock deep into your tight heat.

“Going to come inside you, baby. Gonna fill you up until your dripping and begging me to stop.” He rasped in your ear as his hips sped up and his breathing got heavier. “God you have no idea how fucking feral it makes me seeing you with kids. Makes me want to breed you, force you to make me one of my own.”

Your walls fluttered around him and he chuckled darkly in your ear.

“You like that, darling? You want to be so full of me it makes you a mother?”

You gasped and nodded, and tried in vain to tell him you were close through the gag, but you didn't need to. George knew your body like the back of his hand and he could already feel you clenching rhythmically around him.

“Go on baby, come for me. Milk my cock, there you go. My perfect little cumslut”

You could feel your toes curl as the feeling of bliss took over your body and you pulled George over the edge with you, his hips slamming into you, trying to get his seed as deep as he could.

Just then the alarm rang on his phone for the pasta that was now ready.

“Perfect timing” George laughed as he pulled out and took your spit soaked panties out of your mouth to let you get on with the food.

“Indeed, can I have my underwear back please?” you asked, picking up your shorts and putting your hand out.

“Oh no, I'm not done with you yet, sweetheart” George just pocketed them, despite your protests, and smirked at you.

“Your implant is effective like 99% of the time, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him

“-ish, why?”

“Because I'm going to beat the odds and fill you up a hundred times until it takes”

His logic was flawed, bless his heart, but you couldn't deny that the idea of him using you over and over again like an animal in heat sent a shiver down your spine, and your pussy clenched in protest.

“Now I'll take the food up, and when I come back I want you in the bedroom, ready to be filled up again.”

He quickly prepped the plate and disappeared up the steps, leaving you dripping down your legs and shocked at his words.

Maybe when this implant ran out, you were going think twice before replacing it…

[imreadydollparts]

More Mattel Head Glue Mess.

So this was posted on X:

And it caused a lot of collectors/enthusiasts to be kind of mean to OP for trusting a tutorial by a well-known doll rehabber (keep in mind, well known doesn't mean they know what they're doing...) and trying that person's glue head removal method of saturating the hair in WD-40 then washing it, causing the hair to all fall out.

They were also saying she should have used L.A.'s Totally Awesome, because we all know that works well and is generally safe. Generally.

At first I was sure that the problem wasn't the oil because oil does degrade plastics, yes, but not THAT fast. I figured the glue being removed made the hair fall out in that removing the glue removes the hairs' anchor inside the head.

I thought this doll had Saran and tried WD-40 on a Barbie because I can't assume I know exactly what happened without having tried this method, but Barbie's hair was fine. WD-40 is very fast at removing the head glue (but difficult to wash out again, just like Goo Gone in our hard water), but still not recommended due to the way oils degrade plastics.

Then @oak23 told me this doll does NOT have Saran hair, she has a special hair fiber meant to hold a shape without heat.

That changes things!

So I ordered one of the same doll on eBay to test on and she got here yesterday.

Her hair is already breaking around the scalp and the hair texture looked weird, there.

That got me thinking the head glue is what's destroying the hair fiber, not the removal method, in this case, oil. That supports my earlier theory that applying oil didn't instantly destroy the hair.

I gave her a quick wash because she was dirty, chopped off some of her hair right up by the scalp so there was gluey and not-gluey hair, and soaked samples in T.A. and WD-40 for two hours.

I can't record while I'm working but after that 2 hour period I pulled the samples out, held it in both hands, and yanked on them hard.

I also yanked on the hair still attached to the head, which did not break any more than it had when I had combed it.

The WD-40 hair, when yanked, did not break. When I pulled specifically at the ends that had glue, though, just that area disintegrated!

The Totally Awesome soaked hair had the same results when yanked.

However, the hair broke apart even more at the glue end than the sample treated with WD-40!

This tells me that the head glue is what caused the hair to destabilize either by changing it's composition in some way or by integrating with the hair, and regardless of the glue removal method, once the glue was dissolved, the affected hair fell apart.

Link back to the post full of links to the other post about this issue:

[janeyseymour]

Overheated

Summary: sometimes you faint. a certain someone is always there to catch you.

WC: ~2.3k

“Melissa, I’m fine,” you grumble as you roll out of bed that day. “Just PMS.”

“And you know how that shit knocks you out,” your wife mutters, although she does allow you to get up. She knows you’ve already used your sick days earlier in the year when you caught the flu.

“Well, it can’t today,” you grunt and groan as you change into your work clothes. “I can’t afford to not get paid, and I don’t want Mr. J as my sub again.”

“I told you, we can survive without one day of your pay if you really feel as shitty as I think you do,” Melissa tells you as she snakes her arms around your waist and presses a kiss to your temple.

You turn slightly in her arms to kiss her softly. “I know, but I really don’t need Mr. J teaching my kids that the moon landing was fake.”

“You know my thoughts on that conspiracy theory,” the redhead chuckles softly as she lets you go. When you grimace in pain, she mumbles to herself, “Can’t forget the heating pad and Midol today.”

“And Excedrin,” you whine.

“Hun, if your head is pounding too,” Melissa looks to you with sympathy.

You stand strong though. “I’m going. I’ll just teach with the lights off and from my desk today.”

“Stubborn as a Schemmenti,” your wife rolls her eyes. “I swear.”

“I am a Schemmenti now,” you quip with a smirk before you feel a shoot pain that causes you to wince.

“And I am so thankful for that,” Melissa promises you as she kisses your head again. With that, the two of you head down the steps for breakfast.

Your breakfast is, while painful, a wonderfully quiet and warm haze. Your wife all but forces you to sit at the table while she prepares the coffee and meal, along with handing you the hot water bottle for you to hold to your abdomen.

As you leave for work, you would venture to say that you feel slightly better than you did when you first woke up. Still, you know you probably shouldn’t push yourself too hard. You vow to yourself (and your fiercely protective spouse) that you’ll do everything you can to teach from your chair today.

For whatever reason, your students are completely out of hand today in every single way. From the second they step into your classroom, you can tell it’s going to be a terrible day- a day where no matter how much you want to resign yourself to sitting in your chair, you simply can’t. You find yourself hovering over your students no matter what their assignment is, pacing the aisles that you’ve created in your classroom. It’s terrible- completely and utterly horrid. You can’t sit with your heating pad, you didn’t even bring a hot water bottle, your head has started to pound again with the class’s volume. It’s absurd.

When lunch time comes around for your students, you practically drag them down- hopeful for a full lunch period of peace and quiet in your classroom; you’ve already decided that you aren’t making it to the staff lounge today. Instead you’ll take your wife’s teasing at the fact that you are so unwell that you couldn’t even fathom coming to have lunch with her.

But of course, because as the universe decides, you don’t get to treat yourself to a quiet lunch. No, instead, you’re running around like an idiot trying to make sure that you’re students all have lunch, and when you think you’ll be able to go for the last ten minutes to eat your lunch in silence, you’re pulled into an issue surrounding your student who hasn’t had lunch money for the past two weeks (a problem unknown to you).

You go in circles with Shanae for a few minutes before you finally roll your eyes and fork over the money in order to get him a lunch and placate the irritable lunch lady.

“Coulda done that in the first place,” she grumbles as she snatches the money from your hand and begins to count it.

At this point, you only have about five minutes left of your lunch time. There’s no use in going to back to your classroom- not when you would just have to turn right back around. So instead, you sit in the hallway for the last few minutes before leading them back down to your classroom.

You think to yourself that you’ll just eat while your kids have their special, only to realize that you indeed do not have a special. You lost the only time to yourself today. You sigh as you instruct your students to get out a book for five minutes while you collect yourself again.

Hastily, you reach for your phone, hoping to convince your wife to bring you your meal from the staffroom. Upon the device lighting up, you see quite a few concerned messages from Melissa.

You coming down for lunch?

Hun?

I’m coming to your room.

Did you leave early?

And then a few minutes later, the last text comes in. Saw you in the cafeteria. Love you.

Sorry, you respond. Had an issue with Taijon’s lunch and left my phone in the classroom. Do you think you have a few minutes to bring me my lunch?

I can’t, your wife texts. I don’t have prep today- with the gym teacher out. I’m sorry hun. Are you okay? I can have Barb head down during her prep?

No, no, don’t bother her. I’ll be fine.

Are you fine?

I will be, you send before setting your phone down and starting class again. 

It turns out, as luck would have it, that you are indeed not fine. Despite the Diet Coke that you put into your purse this morning for an extra jolt of caffeine, your head is still pounding, you’re absolutely exhausted, and your cramps are only getting worse. Whether they’re getting worse because your period is incoming or if it’s because you haven’t eaten anything other than the few bites of breakfast you could manage because of your nausea, who can say. 

Your wife sees how pale and slightly green you look while you’re dismissing your students. She knows that tonight is going to be an early night, one with a heating pad pressed against your abdomen, and in turn, hers because you’ll be laying on top of her.

“How’re you feeling?” she still asks you as she makes her way over.

“Fine,” you grumble. “Just want to get home.”

“As soon as all of the kids are gone, we can sneak out. Yeah?” You can only nod.

It’s a few minutes later that all of your kids have left the school grounds, and you sigh in slight discomfort as you make your way back into the school. You’re starting to feel warmer and warmer, and the redhead has an arm around your waist the entire walk down to your classroom, where she gathers your things for you and slings them over her shoulder. And then the two of you are making your way down to her classroom. And while you really did think you were fine- that you just had to make it home before collapsing onto the couch and staying there until it was time to retire for bed- but it turns out you aren’t. You start to stumble just slightly as a wave of dizziness hits you to accompany the hot flash you seem to be in the middle of. 

“Hun?” Melissa’s eyes quickly dart to you as she feels just the slightest shift in weight.

You’re able to catch yourself on her doorframe. “I’m good. Just a little-”

And then you go down. Melissa’s one arm isn’t strong enough to hold you up as you faint in her arm. To her credit though, your wife does try to grab you with her other hand. Unfortunately, she’s not quick enough, and her engagement ring manages to catch on the skin of your cheek as she flounders to reach for you and cuts you.

“Fuck!” your wife yells out loud enough to attract the attention of the teachers who have also come inside. Barbara is the first one to run to Melissa’s room- only to see you on the floor with a bloody cheek that is now spilling onto the carpet.

“Oh dear God!” the kindergarten teacher sputters as she kneels down beside you and the redhead. “What happened?”

“I- I don’t know,” Melissa mutters as she lays you down on your back. “She hasn’t been feeling well, but I-”

You open your eyes groggily, only to groan at the florescent lights hitting you. You screw them shut again.

“Mi amore,” your wife mumbles as she presses a tissue to your cheek. Then she turns to look at Barbara. “Can you grab me her bottle of water?”

No sooner is your water bottle straw being brought to your lips as Melissa props you up, and you take a sip quickly. And then you’re trying to sit up on your own and pull the tissue catching your blood from your face. Strong hands just keep you on the ground though.

“Lis, I’m perfectly-”

“Did you want to finish that thought?” the redhead interrupts you. “Did you want to finish blaming that you’re perfectly fine? Or are you going to faint again?”

You jut out your bottom lip as you succeed in pulling the tissue away from you cheek. “Be nice to me,” you pout. “I’m injured, and not feeling well.”

Green eyes are rolled with such love. “Oh, so now you admit it? There’s blood on my floor.”

“I’ll clean it up.” You go to move, but once again, you’re glued to the woman holding you in her arms.

“Like hell you will,” Melissa mumbles as she presses a kiss to your unmarked cheek. “What you will be doing is laying on the floor for a few minutes while I clean it up, and then we’re going home.”

“Dear, why did you faint?” Barbara asks as she switches places with the redhead. “Did you eat today?”

You hum softly as you take another sip of water. “I had a few bites of breakfast this morning, but that’s all I could manage.”

“No wonder you passed out. Why didn’t you eat lunch?”

You shrug.

“Or ask one of us to bring it to you?”

Again, you shrug. “Didn’t want to be a bother.”

“Next time,” both older women grumble. “Be a smaller bother than fainting after school.”

“Noted.”

It’s only a few minutes later that you’re feeling well enough to sit up on your own. And when you go to stand, you find that you’re instead being swept off your feet and into the arms of your wife.

“You’re not fainting again,” Melissa tells you sternly. She whisks you out of the classroom and in the direction of your cars, leaving Barbara to follow along with all of your belongings.

“Guys,” you grumble, although you do wrap your arms around Melissa’s neck and lean into her slightly. “I’m fine.”

“Fine my ass,” Melissa huffs as she sets you down in the passenger seat. She turns to the kindergarten teacher and takes both of your belongs before sighing. “Thanks for the help, Barb.”

“Anything for family,” the woman smiles sweetly, although then she turns to you with a stern look. “I do hope that you won’t be making a habit of this though.”

You turn red under Barbara’s steely gaze. “I won’t.” 

Since that first incident, you’ve been a lot better about taking care of yourself- although you do have to admit that sometimes you’re only remembering to take care of yourself because of your wonderful wife (and Barbara, at times). You don’t end up fainting at school again- thank goodness.

Well, that is until you’re attempting to hide the fact that you’re pregnant. You and your wife had only recently discovered that you were with child.

It’s May- an unusually hot month that you’re sitting in a school without air conditioning. You can feel the flush in your cheeks as you’re sitting in the staff room with your coworkers, your wife’s hand resting warmly on your thigh.

“Off,” you mumble as you practically throw her hand off of you and begin to fan yourself with your hand.

The redhead looks at you, clearly confused, but then she sees the red in your cheeks, and she knows you’re going through a hot flash- one of the few symptoms that you’ve had of this pregnancy so far.

“Are you-” and then you go down.

Melissa, who had dealt with this a few times (the first time being when you had passed out and she forced you to take a test), moves in a calm and purposeful manner. She has the lollipop to help with the nausea that is bound to overtake you, your water bottle, and then she’s down by your side quickly.

“She’s eating!” Barbara shouts in disbelief. “How could she faint?!”

When you come to a few seconds later, you let out a heavy sigh. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“If you knew you were getting overheated, you should’ve asked for an ice pack like you do at home,” you wife tuts.

“Sorry,” you mumble as you take a few sips of water.

“This isn’t good for you or the baby,” Melissa sighs, entirely forgetting where she’s at in the moment. The only thing she cares about is you.

“The what?!” Jacob practically shouts, being the first one to hear this news and let it sink in.

“You’re with child?!” Barbara cries not a moment later.

You bite your lip and look to your wife, who is about as red as her hair. “Uhm… surprise?”

Tags

 (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @schmentisgf

[hiraizyo]

close to my heart, i hold you dearly

synopsis — as you and megan continue the fake relationship during a double date, it becomes harder to deny your feelings for one another.

tags — fake dating trope, non idol au, mutual pining, masc!reader

now playing: tell her how you feel, dream wave.

a/n: yikes srry i took so long with part 2 😓 i tried my best w build up of tension & the pacing, tbh yn and megan are just idiots in love. implied hair theory in love (??) 😛megan going back to natural

++ links: part i. this features yunjin my favorite side character, she’s really just a plot device to me (JOKES) decided to make this extra long since i made y’all wait !!!

“yun, for the last time, i am not going on a double date with you.” groaning out, you glared at the girl before you who had her lips jutted out and puppy eyes on display.

yunjin wailed, throwing her arms up. “yn, please! i need you to do this for me.”

currently, the two of you were in the ginger’s college dormitory. the initial plan was to study together, since finals were coming up in a few weeks, but the american had other plans. from the moment you stepped into her room, she pushed her books aside and brought up her proposal, which she was now trying to convince you to do.

the glare you sent the girl didn’t faze her, nor did it falter her confidence that you would agree. she didn’t give you another chance to respond, talking animatedly.

“its only dinner, and it’s not like i’m setting you up with someone! obviously you’ll bring megan.” she said, watching as you stood up from the couch.

you froze for a second, glancing over your shoulder. shaking the surprise off, you continued the short walk to fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, loosening the bottles cap.

“how do you know about megan?” you questioned, taking a sip from the bottle.

yunjin turned around on the couch to face you, a mischievous smile on her face. “well, sophia mentioned she saw you two at some party.” she drawled out, “where do you think i got the idea for the double date?”

you rolled your eyes at her ‘brilliant’ plan, twisting the lid of the bottle closed. you leaned against the counter, looking at your friend.

“isn’t this your first date with soph?” you asked her, eyebrows knitted together.

yunjin nodded her head, though she had a bashful look on her face. “yes, but— god, you know how nervous i get around her. what if i mess up and say something stupid?”

you laughed at her words, because yeah, it was true that yunjin was a bit of a nervous loser around any pretty girl. you were sure she’d mess up in someway with the filipino girl.

she got up from the couch, walking towards you. “i need you there as, like, a buffer for me, and since you and megan are already together, it would be less awkward!”

you tilted your head to the side and stared at the girl. her eyes were wide with distress, hands put together as if she was praying. it was an amusing sight, and you couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle at her antics.

“how are we friends?”

yunjin sighed exasperatedly and gripped her hands onto your forearms. her hold was tight, and you could tell she was close to losing it if you didn’t say yes.

“please, please,” she begged, “when have i ever asked you to do anything for me?”

you looked at her in disbelief, reminding her of a past experience, “uh— first year? you made me bring gifts to your crush for three weeks straight, and she ended up thinking i had a crush on her!”

yunjin’s lips fell in a straight line at your response, looking off to the side. “okay, fine, i admit that was a bit extreme. but i really like sophia, so pretty, pretty please will you go with us?”

“alright, calm down!” you pulled her arms off you, and laughed lightly at the hope that spread in her eyes. “i’ll talk to megan about it.”

yunjin let out a loud yell, thanking you and pressed her body against yours in a quick hug. you barely had time to reciprocate the hug before she was pulling away. she smiled widely, her pearly whites on display, and ran around the dorm in search of her phone to let sophia know you’d be joining them.

you laughed again at her frantic movements and shuffled over to the couch, “can we get on with studying now?”

“ugh, you are such a nerd.”

megan’s room was quiet, aside from the rolling credits of the movie you’d just finished. it had been over a month since the fake relationship began, and the two of you had grown closer as friends. you’d go out for dates, planned movie nights, had dinner with each others parents.

it was fun to have megan as a friend. she was lively, unashamed to be herself around you. she laughed as loud as she wanted, ranted to you about her newest obsessions, told you stories from her childhood, embarrassing and all. megan brought a side out of you that you didn’t even know existed, and the ongoing idea of being ‘together’ caused many inside jokes and teasing.

what warmed your heart the most was the way she got along with your younger sister. hyein was known to be somewhat of a menace, she also rarely liked the girls you brought home, and she never hid that from you. however, with megan, your sister loved talking to her, wanting to be with you and her anytime the hawaiian girl came over.

that made it difficult to have a moment alone with her, which was why you spent most of your time together at megan’s place, like now.

“oh, i almost forgot!” you gasped out once megan paused the movie.

she looked at you in confusion as you got off the bed and reached for your tote bag, digging inside and pulled out a square, silver box. your back was to megan, so she couldn’t see what was in your hand, her curiosity piquing.

the box had a bow wrapped around the centre, it delicately resting in your hands as you plopped back on the bed, crossing your legs underneath you and glanced at her with a small smile. megan moved to sit opposite you, her gaze filled with interest, but also had a softness to it, like it always did when she looked at you.

“for you.” you said, lightly.

megan took the box from you, her hands brushing against yours tenderly, causing your heart to stutter from the brief contact. it was a foreign feeling to you, yet you brushed it off in the moment.

she frowned as you watched her slowly undo the bow. megan didn’t say anything while she took the top lid off, shrieking once she noticed the shining metal in the light, taking a pair of earrings out and holding it in her palm.

“yn…” she breathlessly said, eyes connecting with yours. “these are so beautiful.”

you shrugged nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t a big deal. then, you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly, “happy fake anniversary.”

megan burst out in giggles at your words and leaped forward to wrap her arms around your neck, the earrings being clutched tightly in her hand. there was a bit of force as you were pushed back, leaning on yours arms while you supported yours and megan’s weight.

“oh my god, you dork!” she muttered against your ear, “i can’t believe you would get me this for a fake anniversary.”

you reached up to caress the back of her head, smiling to yourself, chest filling with comfort. as nice as it was to see the girl so happy, you regretfully let out, “eh, that’s not the only reason…”

megan leaned back, her arms falling beside her and once again looking confused. you shyly placed your hand on the side of your neck, avoiding her gaze.

“yunjin wants us to go on a double date.” you explained, sucking in a breath. “with her and sophia.”

“oh,” megan paused, looking at the earrings in her palm, deep in thought. she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little sad over the gift having an ulterior motive. “so, this is bribery then?”

“well, no.” you took one earring from her and brought it up to megan’s earlobe, testing how it would look on her. “i also wanted to get you something nice.”

megan tried to ignore the feeling of your skin brushing against her jaw, your touch like a burn. while you peered over how the earring suited her, megan’s eyes were watching you, silently thinking that you looked stunning in the lighting of her room, yet she forced herself to break her gaze once you placed the earring back in her palm.

“thank you, yn. when’s the date?” she questioned, searching for the box in her messy sheets.

“next friday.” you replied, though you hadn’t noticed the slight change in her attitude as you tucked some hair behind megan’s ear, her movements pausing. “guess we’re going to have to pretend again.”

megan chortled, though it was strained. she pushed aside her feelings, settling the heavy sensation deep in her heart. she put the earrings back in the box as she bit down on her lower lip.

“we did do a pretty good job at it last time.” the ginger commented, placing the lid over the box and handed it to you so that you could put it on her nightstand.

“we did.” you agreed, leaning back against the headboard.

your mind began to fade away from the present moment, thinking back to the party; being with megan, your close proximity, her body against yours, her hands tucked under your shirt, having her against the wall, the heat you felt, kissing her.

“should we watch another movie?” you asked, snapping yourself out of a daze.

megan shook her head, “hm, no. i’m feeling a little tired.” she lied, wanting to close her eyes and forget this weird disappointment she felt.

you reached for the laptop and set it on the floor, then moved down until you were lying flat on the bed, hand wrapping around megan’s wrist and gently tugged her towards you. megan didn’t say anything, allowing you to pull her against your chest, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“then lets sleep.” you told her, shutting your eyes closed.

though she was unsettled by the bribery tactic, megan couldn’t help but find comfort in your hold. megan’s breath hitched in her throat. it wouldn’t be the first time you’d lay like this, having to keep up the charade of dating around her friends and your sister. there were many moments where she felt this feeling, each one more deeper than the last.

(the first time she felt it, it was during a saturday night as you settled in your couch together for a series binge watching of squid game with your sister, hyein. megan still remember how her heart stopped when she felt your hand drop below her waist, resting on her hips, her skin warm against yours. it made her dizzy, bashful, yet it seemed as if it was second nature to you.

the second time she felt it was while you were over at lara’s place. it was a hot, summer evening, the heat having tired everyone out, and you’d fallen asleep against megan. she freaked, wondering how to move you so you’d be more comfortable, until you pulled her towards you, your hold tight, and her heart raced from the way you unknowingly reached for her. she had no choice but to calm her racing heart and try to sleep with out.

the third time she felt it, surprisingly was not in your arms. instead, it was during a moment of heavy sickness for her. you’d come over, bearing with some warm soup and orchids, her favorite, and— wait, she didn’t remember telling you that. megan didn’t question it though, and despite her attempts of keeping you away, as she didn’t want you getting sick too, you stayed, until she was better, until she was feeling like herself.

later that day, megan would find out you’d actually asked lara what her preference for flowers were.

she saw it — you cared for her.)

but now, in this moment, as your fingers lazily rubbed circles in her hair, how perfectly she fit in your arms, megan felt her heart constrict in her chest.

the hawaiian knew, then and there, this wasn’t what one was supposed to experience during a fake relationship. she wondered, did you feel that too? did you also have these brief, fleeting moments of wanting more?

megan couldn’t remember the last time she felt this way, but she hoped — prayed — you’d be there to catch her.

the dim lighting of the restaurant created a warm glow, smooth jazz music playing. the place yunjin told you to meet at was far from classy, yet it wasn’t so casual either. it was more in between, even to give sophia a good impression of her.

the waiter guided you and megan towards a booth where you caught sight of your college friend, sophia sitting beside her, deep in conversation and talking animatedly.

it was yunjin who noticed you first, the shadow of the waiter casting over the table caused her to look up. he nodded his head curtly to you, walking off to the front desk of the restaurant, while you and yunjin shared a brief embrace, sending a smile towards the filipino. megan greeted them both with a graceful hello, sliding into the booth and you followed behind her, sitting close enough that your thighs touched.

yunjin leaned back, chuckling smoothly. “finally, you’re here! i was beginning to think you wouldn’t show anymore.”

“its true, she was all fidgety and antsy.” sophia commented, looking over at yunjin with deep admiration. “it was kind of cute.”

yunjin’s cheeks flushed a deep red from the girl’s words, and you smirked at the way she practically melted once sophia reached behind her and scratched her nails on yunjin’s neck.

god, that girl was hopeless.

“we would’ve been here sooner, but someone—” you glanced at megan purposely, voice hard for a second. “—took forever to drive here.”

megan tutted, placing a hand over her chest in mock offense. “you judge my driving too harshly.”

“i almost died — twice!” you screeched out, eyes wide in bewilderment, yet a smile tugged at your lips. “i’m taking us home tonight.”

your tone left no room for debate, but megan didn’t mind; she’d gladly be your passenger princess any day. the girl rolled her eyes playfully, and tugged on the knot of the tie that loosely and lowly hung around your neck.

“fine,” she huffed. “no complaints here.”

you grasped onto her hand that held onto the knot and lugged it away, scowling in a joking manner, pretending to be annoyed that she had messed it up. megan flipped your hands around so that she now grasped yours and pulled it over her shoulder, your arm now resting around it.

megan convinced herself was doing this for show. after all, both yunjin and sophia believed you were really together — you needed to play the part.

yet, she missed the way sophia glanced at you two, a hint of joy in her eyes at seeing her friend happy, especially since sophia knew how heartbroken megan was over her ex girlfriend. she could sense it was natural the way you and megan acted, you were simply drawn to one another.

sophia knew megan was feeling more like her old self, the megan before the break-up, before she had first met her ex.

“i like the new look.” the filipino voiced, leaning forward as she looked at megan.

the girl in question glanced down at her hair that flew over her shoulders, “yeah?” she laughed, smiling widely. “i said i’d go back to black.”

“it really does suit you, meg.” yunjin agreed, offering a shy smile. “but i’m a little sad we aren’t twinning anymore.” she touched her own ginger hair, looking down at it.

megan smiled even more, till her eyes turned into crescents. it was a sight to behold, this bright energy and glow that radiated from her, and you felt your own smile grow from her happiness alone.

“maybe dye your hair and we’d match again.” megan shrugged, offering a teasing look to the american.

yunjin looked in genuine thought as she contemplated the idea. sophia noticed and pouted, her glossy lips shining in the light of the restaurant.

“aw no, i quite like ginger yun.” she prodded.

you couldn’t help but cackle as your friend stumbled over her words, stuttering out a barely coherent sentence. megan, who was much more discreet than you, stifled a laugh as well.

yunjin looked down at sophia, her eyes shining with love, completely her mercy. “oh… s-sure! anything you like, i’ll be.”

sophia found the american’s behavior endearing, smirking to herself, as if she knew of the power she held. she then simply shook her head, though she smiled adoringly, and began a conversation with megan off to side.

you leaned forward across the table. yunjin wasn’t that far away, so your arm still hung partially over megan’s shoulder while the distance between you and the ginger became less.

you squinted at her, “jesus chris, get a fucking grip, dude.”

yunjin groaned internally, her whole body felt flushed. she was way too nervous for this, her heart thumping erratically.

“i’m trying,” yunjin hissed. “this is exactly why you’re here.” she reminded you, quickly taking a much needed sip of water.

you were about to respond when a waiter walked over, inquiring if you were ready to order. you leaned away from yunjin, who stared at you warningly, drawing your arm off megan’s shoulder and opened the menu, flipping through the pages until you all decided on what to eat for the night.

conversation flowed between the four of you easily while you waited for your food, exchanging laughs and talking about many different topics. at times, you and megan found yourselves wrapped in one another’s words, talking amongst each other alone, as if yunjin and sophia were nonexistent.

the dinner came to an end, plates taken away the only thing left behind was either half empty or finished glasses of drinks, and the bill already paid. it was when you were walking out the restaurant doors that you thanked yunjin for inviting you and megan out, to which the girl stared at you tauntingly.

“ah, you didn’t think this would be the only thing for tonight, did you?” she asked, the corner of her lip twitched in a sly smirk.

you looked to her with surprise, “you said it was just dinner.” coming to a stop, you quickly glanced at megan, and back to yunjin.

the four of you stood outside in the restaurant’s parking lot, the cool and crisp air a huge contrast to the warmth of inside.

“right,” yunjin nodded. “and a movie.” she divulged, smiling at the happy noise sophia let out, heart leaping once again. “there’s a drive-in movie a couple blocks away.”

you slumped forward at the news. did yunjin really have to spring this on you?

you were very prepared for a dinner date, but now there was a movie involved. and while you were completely fine at first, you wondered how you’d managed to be around megan in this predicament, especially with these weird, new feelings.

dinner was one thing, but to be with megan, in the dark — alone — was something else entirely.

yunjin was looking at you hopefully, silently pleading with you. sophia watched as you stood rooted to your spot, a little confused at your reluctancy. and megan, sweet, attentive megan, nudged your arm, drawing your attention.

“c’mon, it’ll be fun.” she mumbled lowly, looking up at you, lazy smile in place.

you glanced at her, wondering if you’d really want to do this. sophia and yunjin were still watching you, awaiting your response, and then you remembered you had to keep this charade up, because in their eyes, you and megan were girlfriends.

and you were to say no to your girlfriend?

you sighed, but your voice quickly turned into a much cheerier one. “alright, whatever my darling wants, she gets.”

“oh, get a fucking grip.” yunjin snorted, mocking you with the same words you’d used earlier.

she shook her head at you, her and sophia walking towards the car they’d come in. yunjin shouted back at you from where they were parked, telling you to follow behind her and she’d lead you to the drive-in.

while you and megan walked towards your own car, she leaned in close, her chin pressed against your forearm. “darling?”

you could already sense that teasing tone she had, pushing her away slightly. “shut up, i panicked.”

megan snickered at the top of her voice, her laugh echoing in the empty space around you and her. it didn’t take long for her laughter to die down, and she fell into little giggles here and there while you continued to walk, the car still quite a distance away. as you strolled together, like magnets, you and megan were pulled together, until your finger tips brushed against one another. your steps slowed down, walking in a leisurely pace, feeling content in the quiet that settled over you.

yunjin and sophia were a few feet away, and much like you and megan, they too were sitting on the hood of the car. you could see yunjin’s arm draped over sophia’s arm, and you were proud that the girl finally found some confidence in herself amongst nervousness.

on the other hand, you sat with your arm to yourself, not needing to play the part of a fake girlfriend since yunjin and sophia were occupied.

megan had her eyes on you for quite some time, the movie being drowned out. it wasn’t that the movie wasn’t interesting — oh no, no. if anything, the movie was fascinating, yet her attention had been on you.

the twilight glow of the large movie screen illuminated your face. she stared up at you, as if memorizing your features. the sharp curve of your jaw, the length of your eyelashes, the slow blinks of your eyelids as you watched the movie.

it was rather difficult to ignore the feeling of her gaze on you, and after much time, you’d decided to call her out on it.

“i can feel you staring, y’know.” you tilted your head to look at her, raising an eyebrow. she looked away, now facing the large screen.

megan choked on a breath, “i-i wasn’t…! i was just admiring.” she explained, her erratic heart racing beneath her ribcage.

you hummed, leaning closer to her. “is it to your liking?” you questioned. it was now your turn to stare at her side profile, megan’s throat bobbing up and down as she swallowed nervously.

she glanced at you from her peripheral vision, “definitely.” megan concluded, finally turning to face you.

you didn’t realize exactly how close you were until she was looking at you, her honey eyes staring back into your own. your mouth dried, and for a moment you felt feint. megan was within such close reach, if you moved even an inch you’d be skin to skin with her, so close that you could smell the scent of her lip glass, and without realizing it, your eyes had dropped to her lips.

they shone despite it being dark out, courtesy of lighting from the big screen. they were pink, and looked as soft as ever.

it was brief, having your gaze on her lips, and then you looked back into her eyes, your mind feeling fuzzy. megan stared back at you, both of you silent, as if saying any word would shatter the tension that settled over you like a blanket. the stares continued, the eye contact becoming unbearable.

“i think we did another great job.” she murmured, voice shaky, the nerves obvious.

“we’re getting too good at this.” you breathed out, wanting to pull megan close, press her lips against yours.

megan nodded in agreement, as though you both knew this wasn’t pretend at all. the dark haired girl’s eyes fluttered down to your lips, but you’d denied one another the satisfaction, taking a sharp breath in and both turning to focus on the movie.

it was now you who stole glances, megan’s side profile was alluring. she looked stunning with her black hair, your jacket hanging off her shoulders, and— holy shit, when did megan look so good?

you knew megan definitely had admirers, given her beauty, but as you stared at her, longingly, she had never looked more captivating that in this moment.

this was megan in all her glory, and she was utter perfection.

your head spun, suddenly feeling your heart stutter and jump. your stomach felt queasy, being twisted and undone over and over. your mouth dried again. this feeling wasn’t new to you, many times before had you felt this way for other girls, but with megan, this was more — this was a deeper, raw, undeniable connection.

you looked away, attention now on the movie, your mind reeling from the sudden awareness that was no longer fake.

your hand dropped from where it was placed over your knee, so close to megan’s. she felt your hand drop, the thud heard on the hood of the car, and with the weight of her feelings, she unknowingly drew her hand closer to yours.

your hand reached outwards, nervously, you glanced down, watching the way your fingers would inch closer to hers, but you’d pull back, quickly, abruptly, like you’d been struck by lightning.

you swallowed, thinking to yourself. would megan mind if you grabbed her hand? would she pull away, deny you the comfort of her warmth?

it was inevitable, the way you and her found one another even in the dark night.

your fingers reached out, finding hers. silently, you stared ahead, as though the tingles you felt weren’t sending a jolt to your stomach and chest. megan’s fingers intertwined with yours, loosely hanging together, and much like you — even if she didn’t know how you felt — her own body had electricity dancing all over.

neither of you said a word. this quiet, tender moment allowing both of you to relish in the feelings. there was no one around, no one to pretend in front of, no one to fool.

you took this moment for yourselves, selfishly, uncaring, and greedily.

ooohuuhh they didn’t even kiss ??? 🤔 haha… so part 3?

[inmyheaddd]

✦ strawberry theory — percy jackson x reader

summary: percy jackson cannot (and will not) stop trying to kiss you wc: 590

you were sitting cross-legged on the picnic blanket, the summer sun warm against your skin, a soft breeze rustling the leaves above. percy was stretched out beside you, one hand lazily propped under his head, the other holding a strawberry from the ones you had picked earlier with him.  

“i think i’ve had enough of these,” you said, wiping your hands on a napkin and reaching for your water bottle. 

“you say that like you didn’t just inhale half the box,” he said, shooting you a sarcastic grin when you turned back to give him a glare.  

“…whatever,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “at least i have self-control.”  

“sure you do.” he said that like he knew you definitely did not, before he held up another strawberry, inspecting and humming. “you missed a really good one, though.”  

you tilted your head, amused. “oh, really?”  

“really,” he said, but instead of eating it like you thought he would, he tossed it back into the basket and sat up, then leaned closer. his gaze flicked down to your lips for half a second—so quick you almost missed it—before he grinned again.  

“what are you doing?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.  

“testing a theory,” he said, voice light but his expression anything but. before you could question him further, he leaned in and kissed you.  

it wasn’t your first kiss with percy, but there was something different about this one. he lingered for a moment, pulling back just enough to look at you, his brows furrowed slightly like he was deep in thought.  

“what?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious.  

he grinned, his eyes lighting up like he’d just solved a mystery. “you taste like strawberries.”  

you laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “yeah… i just ate a billion of them.” you said, “and my chapstick is strawberry flavored too.”

he hummed, “your chapstick?” he repeated, like he’d just uncovered some great secret. 

then, with that trademark mischievous glint in his eye, he leaned closer again. “wait, let me test that theory one more time.”  

you giggled, leaning back slightly to dodge him. “percy, no.”  

“come on,” he said, still grinning as he followed you. “for science.”  

“you’ve had enough,” you said, laughing as you pushed him back.  

“have i, though?” he asked, still leaning closer despite your joking protests.  

“yes!” you managed between giggles, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.  

he finally sat back with a dramatic sigh, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “fine, but just so you know, you’re depriving me of very important data.”  

you rolled your eyes, still laughing as you reached for another strawberry. “you’re actually ridiculous.”  

“and you taste really good when i kiss you,” he shot back, grinning wider. “so, really, this is your fault.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “my fault? who was the one just talking about self control—“

“—i blame you, because now i’m going to be only thinking about kissing you all day.” he said, sitting up again and leaning closer. 

you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, trying to shove him back as he hovered way too close again. “um, okay. shut up, you’re unbelievable.”

“thank you,” he said, like it was the greatest compliment ever, before winking. “now, can i please kiss you again?”

“no!” you laughed, turning your face away, but he was still grinning, still leaning in like he was daring you to give in.

and despite your stubbornness, you did, and kissed him. 

well— when he looked like that, and was looking at you with that grin, how could you not? maybe you didn’t have enough self control as you thought. 

besides, he tasted a little like strawberries himself, and like the ocean. 

taglist: @lovethornes @littlemissmentallyunstable @midiosaamor @maybxlle @imaseabear 

@sheisntyou @off-to-the-r4ces @anintellectualintellectual @wish-i-were-heather @hxress23

@hermesenthusiast @that-daughter-of-hephaestus

[paymechildsupport]

hiii, how would you feel about a gojo x mreader sports au but they both play on the same team. Like hc’s about reader and gojo who are both on the same basketball team. I always see fics where just he’s on the team but I thought it would be interesting to see one where they both are. thanks!

Now hold on a second….

Gojo x M!Reader on the same basketball team // Hc’s

-!! SFW + NSFW hc’s,— you’re both in college

———☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

✮ Teammate!Satoru, whom you’ve always had the most insane chemistry with. Regardless of on the court or off, everybody knows you two have SOMETHING going on —

Some of the plays you pull off shouldn’t even be possible. You’re like a two man army. The two mvp’s of every team, an unstoppable force.

Varsity ever since freshman year of high school, and now you’re both in college and doing the sport you love most of all

You’re each other’s rocks, always there for one another. When he scores the winning basket you’re the first person he hugs,— full on SPRINTS across the court to get that one high-five from his best mate

You’re pretty much a package deal at this point. Back in high school it was clear to any team recruiter that you both came together- if they wanted one of you, they’d have to take both (which, who wouldn’t want to, honestly?)

✮ Teammate!Satoru, who absolutely adored all the attention. The man was born to be in the spotlight, and reveled in the publicity you both dug up.

You’d be in the middle of practice on a water break, and you best believe Satoru has the latest viral clip of you two playing on his phone, giggling to himself. He’s saved every single edit of your plays, has an entire folder dedicated to them. He’s always super ecstatic to show you them too,

“Ohhh!! Look how cool I was in that one— oh, and there you are- OH DID YOU SEE THAT PLAY?!”

It’s not just edits of your plays though…. He has another folder, which he has dedicated to ship edits of you two. His guilty pleasure would be staying up and mindlessly scrolling through the countless ship videos fans have made of you two. Artwork, from theories, to slowmo clips of you two staring almost lovingly into eachothers’ eyes…. All for shits and giggles though! You two are just super tight homies, that’s all! Right…?

He’d play it off too, make a bunch of jokes like,

“Ha ha, fans really think we’re dating… how crazy is that? I mean, it’s not like we like each other or anything, right? Like, it’d be really funny if we kissed on the court after we win the next game, rather than just hug. It could just be like a little peck on the cheek..— as a publicity stunt, of course! It’d totally go viral— as a publicity stunt.”

(The answer was a big fat no from the media manager, much to Satoru’s disappointment)

And yes, he’s VERY aware of the surplus of fan fiction about you two, he’s probably written half of it

“hey, ever heard of omegaverse-?”

Shit, at this point he might as well have his own ship account of you two

✮ Teammate!Satoru, who is the mortal enemy of your team’s media team, who beg him , above all else, to just watch the shit he posts online. They just don’t want a huge controversy, and the team’s two star players dating eachother?! That’s just a scandal waiting to happen. The news and magazines would go absolutely feral

But, of course, true to classic Satoru style, he just doesn’t listen

His entire Instagram account is just photos of you. Has a heart around your handle in his bio (labeled, ‘my pookie <3’ ,— mf even got down on his knees and begged you to match pfp’s with him

One of his many viral photos is of you in his pinnie, reading in bed (why you were in the same bed, nobody knows)

Another has you two on a vacation in Hawaii, sunbathing with nothing but your boxers, and beach chairs a little too close

Satoru posts all of them with jokes about ‘it ain’t gay with the homies ❤️’ and ‘catching yourself being a lil’ too fruity with bro 😂’ — but it’s gotten so excessive to the point where literally nobody knows if it’s a joke anymore or not (sure as hell don’t look like it…)

He crossed a bit of a line when he posted a picture of him getting a tattoo, of your jersey number. Yeah, the manager chewed him up good for that one.

———☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

✮ Teammate!Satoru, who’ll wait a good extra forty-five minutes for everyone else on the team to pack up and leave, just so he can fuck you in the shower room

He’s just so goddamn desperate, he’s turning all the showers on, and it still isn’t enough to mask the lewd noises you two make. Breathy moans, skin slapping,— it’s so hot in there, and Satoru knows it’s not from the steaming water coming from above.

After everybody from the team left, Satoru all but ripped his uniform off. Resorting to using the fucking 3-in-1 shampoo all the other guys use as lube, he’s quick to push himself inside of you.

He tore up the court last game, and for his reward he now gets to tear up you.

“Atta’ boy… hah.. fuck- .. fuck— ah.. did you see my winning shot today..? Ah.. hah.. it was so good, wasn’t it..-?”

He loves it when you wear his jersey while he does it too. He loves it even more if you let him wear yours.

—————————-—☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★——————————

[stillthewc]

I know I usually leave my opinions of each chapter contained in the tags, but this one gave me an incredibly big epiphany about the narrative as a whole, so I feel the need to talk about it in-depth. I'll throw in a "read more" as a spoiler buffer for both the murder and overarching narrative, and here goes:

Due to the lack of evidence pertaining to Hana's death, and the increased focus on who got who's secret because of it, I couldn't help but zone in on everyone's for the sake of this case. However, what really got my attention was this paragraph right here:

Sure, maybe I'm misinterpreting this section, and it simply means Katsumi realized nobody got Hana's secret, but my initial reading was that Hide wasn't discussed once. Quickly, I realized something: that's probably why Daisuke's secret was thrown in: it wasn't simply a "plot twist" for the rest of the class to uncover, but was more of a necessity than anything.

You see, I'm convinced Hide's secret was never given out, specifically because he's not actually physically there.

Ever since that "lotus" experiment was introduced back in "Lockdown", I've been thoroughly on the train of thought of "Hide's a shared hallucination by the rest of the class, and isn't real". And, since this trial got me curious, I decided to look back at previous chapters to see if my thoughts held any weight. And, while it's since switched to "only Katsumi can see him", holy shit is there a lot of evidence pointing to this being canon.

To start, how about the introduction? Most of them merely consist of Hide being in the background making small quips, but either being completely ignored by the introduced student or talking to Katsumi after the fact. However, Hotaru and Daisuke both are introduced to Hide by Katsumi, with their reactions being less "friendly" and more "confused by the empty pocket of air Katsumi's claiming has a person standing in it".

In fact, despite everyone trying their best to be understanding of Katsumi's delusions, a ton of students make small quips about his existence:

But the biggest one to me is during Chapter 2, when given a photo of Eren, Keiko and Hide goofing off. Everyone's surprised with how Hide looks and, with the text taking on new meaning, what once read as "Hide looks way different than he does now" instead becomes "Oh, so that's what that imaginary friend of Katsumi's looks like!"

There's a ton more evidence than just this (like Pyuko's question to Monochan in Chapter 2 being less about Hide being a Reserve Course student and more about themselves, or "What Hide did wasn't your fault" now sounding like he tried killing himself and is in the Chapter 3 coma, or Hide being the only character to have his back to the camera in the trial CGs), but I'll leave things there for now. With this new narrative in mind, I'm sure my reading experience is going to be a lot different now 😉

I'll Bet My Life On It

The fourth trial begins, but everyone quickly realises how little information they have...

Ready for the insanity to begin? I hope you're ready! This trial was a LOOOOONG time coming and I'm so excited to finally release it! Hope you guys enjoy! <3

(also please yell in my inbox I love yelling in my inbox)

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Okay, we gotta talk about Pit Madness in the comics.

I keep seeing a bunch of people saying it’s not real. Problem. It is. It’s just rarely brought up.

It might not be the earliest reference, but we have this panel with Talia talking about how madness seizes him after dipping in the Lazarus Pit

Batman #244 (1972)

But this isn’t the only time we get reference to this. The panel below also talks about lore of the Lazarus Pits and again mentions that madness.

Batman: Bane of the Demon. Issue 3 (1998)

This gets referenced again in Hush when Bruce is fighting who he thinks is someone pretending to be Jason having been resurrected in the Pits during Hush.

Bruce is thinking about how he almost out Jason in a Pit after his death, but due to the madness the Pit can cause and Jason’s injuries to the head, he thought against it.

Batman # 618 - I think it’s volume 11 in the Hush omnibus (2003)

We see a reference to it again regarding Jason in the Lost Days. What’s super interesting here is that Talia states the Pits did NOT drive Jason mad, but Ra’s warns her that it’s possible the madness can occur up to years after a person’s dip.

I find this particular one fascinating, simply because of the lore that Pit Madness can take hold decades after a dip in a Pit.

Red Hood: the Lost Days #2 (2010)

Now, regarding Jason. There has NEVER been any concrete proof he’s suffered from Pit Madness. It’s very popular as a head cannon simply because Jason’s characterization is so all over the place.

Edit: Please keep in mind Jason was calm, cool, collected, and conniving in Under the Red Hood. Saying he’s Pit Mad there takes away all of the impact and gets rid of his motivations. Please be aware of this.

Now, that’s not saying there’s not a connection between Jason and the Pits. There was an entire arc in Red Hood and the Outlaws (2010) regarding this which also deals with Jason’s time with the All-Caste.

I still haven’t gotten around to reading that part, but it’s where the permanent augmentation theories come from. Oh, and Jason can canonically make constructs from Lazarus Water. Ra’s can too, but yeah… it’s a thing.

Red Hood and the Outlaws 2010 #27 (Released in 2014)

But while there’s no confirmation Jason’s dealt with Pit Madness, you know who has? Cass

Batgirl 1 #72 or 73 (2006)

Cass was revived after taking a blow for someone. And Shiva revived her, but there’s no permanence to it. And to my knowledge, I could be wrong since I’m not as familiar with her runs, this is the only time it gets referenced with her.

But going back to my original point that started this: Pit Madness is real. It’s just rarely seen in the comics. And if you want to use it, that’s fine - just be careful about its use since you can ruin characterization with it.

Edit 2: while there isn’t much of Pit Madness seen in the comics, it does seem to wear off over time. We also know a dip in the Pit temporarily increases brain power and physical strength/ability.

We also know that there’s a Lazarus Pit under Gotham and that its waters leech into Gotham’s water supply.

That’s referenced in Teen Titans vol. 3 issues 40-41 (2007) - forgive me. I don’t feel like looking up those panels

[call-me-chips]

TAOM SPOILERS

Okay, hear me out...

So, we pretty much know that the person most likely to have murdered OC is Pip, because artists are hard on themselves and yaddayadda, but I wanna throw my little theory in the theory pool,,,

What if everyone is the "murderer"??

What if each one, on their own time, woke up and tried to kill OC, but all either failed or gave up.

Winn could have tried to get rid of OC by spilling water on the graphite drawing, but that either didn't work and she made more mess on herself than the drawing, or she heard someone else start to wake, which startled her enough to spill the water on herself instead.

Sousuke could have recruited the dog to help him. With the dog's name being Weeaboo (or smth like that), they could share some sort of anime connection. Maybe because of his name, the dog can actually understand Sousuke. Though that is a bit of a stretch, tis still a possibility.

There is no evidence I could think of to say what Giorgio or Albie did, but the fact that Giorgio IMMEDIETELY made himself detective, effectively removing him from the list of suspects, is suspicious.

When the four woke up, each one thought that they were the murderer and their tactics had somehow actually killed him.

Then each person has to try and defend themselves and blame others to try and take the blame off of themselves, each one thinking "If I hold out for long enough, they will give up and we can go back to how our life was."

Because I'm sure they all feel guilty for what they did, but they don't really regret what's been done because now the threat of being replaced is gone.

But hey, that's just a theory

A TAOM THEORY

Aaaaaannnd cut.

[gothamite-rambler]

If Odysseus was luckily bestowed demigod status after he died

And knowing he could easily take on Poseidon, Odysseus took the time to mess with him even more. After all, he was related to Hermes, the god of mischief. No one stopped Odysseus because he was kind of warranted this after the insanity he went through to get home.

Poseidon, Hades, Ares, Odysseus, Zeus, and Hera were having brunch together. Hera brought over another stack of pancakes for the group.

Hera: Ody, enjoy the brunch, but is Penelope not joining us today?

Odysseus: She's exhausted from last night, but she does love your cooking.

Hera: And I love her and you because you're a good man who doesn’t cheat on his wife.

Hera glared at Zeus before sitting down next to him.

Poseidon (scoffing): You act like he’s a hero.

Zeus: Not this again.

Odysseus: Let him whine again; he's still hurt that I wounded him with his own weapon.

Odysseus smirked, relishing the chaos he was stirring.

Poseidon (frustrated): At night, I can still feel the trident in my chest, puncturing my organs.

Odysseus (mocking tone): Oh boo freaking hoo. I made more use of it than you ever did, fucking idiot.

Poseidon (defensive): Hey, I’ve done serious damage to mortals, taken down fleets, made men fear me, and used the water as my body to do all of that! I am tough as steel! One human man was never an issue to me!

Odysseus (smirking): All I remember is you begging me to stop while I stabbed you with your own weapon. Then you thought you won our battle by making me a monster like you. I wanted to get home, you got upset because I didn't kill the son that from my new knowledge you never visited. Whatever makes you happy though.

Poseidon: You've heard legends about my strength and power!

Odysseus (after finishing his tea): Then I saw that you are powerful and have small penis energy and had to one up a human man. You know, like bitches do.

Poseidon (angry): I could dropkick your ass right now, I don't care if other people are here! I don't give a fuck!

Odysseus (grinning): I can definitely beat your ass now as well. Want to test that theory?

Ares (intervening, amused): Uncle Poseidon, stop before he uses someone else's godly weapon on you.

Odysseus (snickering): You think he'd cry this time?

Poseidon (shouting): Okay, why is he here?!

Ares (nonchalant): Hey, leave my great-nephew alone. I invited him over for brunch.

Poseidon (exasperated): He’s not welcome here! I want him out of this brunch now!

Ares took a quick sip from his tea cup then placed it back down on the saucer. He was a God of War, but not lacking in good taste when it came to tea.

Ares (maintaining his composure): Those who want him to stay, raise your hands.

Ares, Hades, Zeus, and even Hera raised their hands causing Poseidon to shake with rage as the tides outside matched his enraged energy.

Ares (with a satisfied grin): You've been out voted, unc. Sit down and eat your pancakes. You can fight him afterwards.

Odysseus chuckled, snatching a pancake off Poseidon's plate. The God of the Tides stood up and stomped out of the room in frustration.

Poseidon: I will be waiting outside!

With that, he left in a huff, the rage causing the tides outside to churn wildly for a few moments.

Odysseus (chuckling, mischievous): I'm glad that you welcomed me and my family to Olympus. This has been a fun time so far.

Zeus (pleased): Yeah, we all enjoy your company, and it's only been a year so far.

Hades (with a bemused expression): Honestly, anyone who makes either of my brothers this mad is always hilarious to me. Poseidon has a serious grudge against you, and it's been a long time since that last happened.

Zeus (shaking his head, incredulous): I can't imagine being that petty and holding a grudge for so long.

Ares (rolling his eyes): Dad, even I know that's a lie.

[itsgreti]

DRUNK CONFESSIONS

pairing. james beaufort x f!reader

summary. (Y/N) and james have been best friends since childhood, but a drunken confession at a party reveals (Y/N)'s hidden feelings for him.

warning. alcohol consumption

word count. 1k

a/n: english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me!

(Y/N) and James Beaufort had been inseparable since they were children, growing up side by side. Lydia, James's energetic sister, was the third musketeer in their trio. They were inseparable, their laughter echoing through the halls of the Beaufort estate daily. Their families, long-time friends with a history that stretched back generations, only strengthened their bond, gathering together for holiday celebrations, or Sunday picnics.

As they grew older, (Y/N)'s feelings for James deepened. She found herself captivated by his character and stared longer at him than she should have. However, she didn’t dare to tell it aloud, fearing it could affect their friendship. And so, she buried her feelings deep within her heart.

One evening, one of their friends throws a party after the exam period, inviting the whole of Maxton Hall. (Y/N) decided to release the stress and she soon found herself consumed by a heavy amount of alcohol, blurring the edges of her consciousness. Darting from one group to another, she lost track of time as she danced and mingled with the crowd, her laughter ringing out in joy.

Throughout the evening, James kept a watchful eye on (Y/N), his protective instincts kicking in as he noticed her growing intoxicated state. He made sure to stay close, subtly guiding her away from the masses and ensuring she always had a glass of water nearby. Now and then, he would catch her eye from across the room, offering her a reassuring smile.

But James soon realised her dizziness coming too far and gently supported (Y/N) as she swayed slightly on her feet.

"Whoa there," he chuckled softly, steadying her with a firm grip on her arm. "I think you've had enough for today."

(Y/N) giggled, the sound tinged with a hint of mischief as she leaned against him for support. "Nonsense," she protested playfully. "I could drink a whole barrel and still be standing!"

James chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I highly doubt that," he teased, he guided her gently to the waiting car with Percy, the Beaufort twins' loyal chauffeur, at the wheel. "Let's get you home before you decide to put that theory to the test."

Holding (Y/N)'s dozy form in his arms, James whispered comforting words of reassurance as Percy navigated the winding roads home.

Once inside the (Y/L/N) residence, James led (Y/N) through the grand hallway, her steps uncertain with each stumble. With tender care, he guided her to the comfort of her room, his heart heavy with unspoken words.

But as he turned to leave, (Y/N)'s voice pierced the silence, her words slurred by the haze of drunkenness. "James," she whispered, her eyes clouded with tears. "I... I have something to tell you."

James froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned to face her, his gaze locking with hers in a moment of raw vulnerability.

"What is it, (Y/N)? Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the night.

Tears spilt from (Y/N)'s eyes as she stumbled over her words, her confession tumbling out in a murmur of drunken desperation. "I... I have feelings for you, James," she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion. "I've been feeling this way for a while now..."

James's heart clenched with a mixture of longing and regret. James's feelings for (Y/N) were a symphony of emotions, admiration, and a love that had quietly taken root in the depths of his soul, just like she did. From the earliest days of their friendship, he found himself drawn to her infectious laughter and the way her presence brought light and warmth into his life.

But instead of succumbing to the temptation of the moment, James took a step back, his hands trembling with restraint. "Oh, (Y/N)," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You don't know how much I wish..." But before he let himself finish his sentence, he refused to take advantage of the defencelessness of his best friend. "(Y/N), you don’t know what are you talking about. Go and sleep it off."

The next morning dawned with the harsh light of reality, (Y/N) waking to the dull ache of a pounding headache and the sharp pang of regret. She found herself suffocated with a sense of shame, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the memory of her drunken confession to James.

Avoiding him became her sole mission, her footsteps quickening whenever she caught sight of his familiar figure in the school hallways. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. One fateful afternoon, as (Y/N) hurried around a corner, her heart leapt into her throat as she collided with James, her books scattered across the floor in a chaotic symphony of clattering pages. As she looked up, her eyes widened, she found James gazing down at her with a gentle smile, his outstretched hand offering her help. Once they stood up, (Y/N) met with his eyes for the first time in a long time.

"(Y/N)," he greeted softly, his eyes searching hers.

"James, I..." she began, her voice trembling with regret. "I'm so sorry about the night. I didn't mean to-"

Before she could finish her apology, James stepped forward, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek. Her heart pounding in her chest. "Shh," he whispered, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her veins. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"But I-"

James silenced her with a gentle kiss, his lips tender against hers. At that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of them suspended in a bubble of warmth and affection.

When they finally parted, (Y/N) gazed up at him, her eyes wide with wonder. "James, I... I didn't know..."

He smiled a softness in his gaze that melted her heart. "You don't have to say anything, (Y/N)," he murmured. "I've felt the same way for a long time."

Tears welled in (Y/N)'s eyes, emotion threatening to overwhelm her. "I never imagined..."

James brushed away her tears with a gentle thumb. "Sometimes, the best things in life are the ones we least expect," he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty.

[twistersobsessed]

hiii it's bracelet anon again with another thought that's been bouncing around in my head:) hopefully it's distinctive enough from my other request since it still revolves around giving scott stuff

i was thinking that scott is really susceptible to holding anything given to him while his attention is elsewhere, like tapping away on the tablet or talking on the phone, and reader picks up on this. so it turns into a little prank amongst the team that they're constantly handing scott things to see how long until he notices. after a while they start to notice that while he usually discards whatever he was given by other team members, he pockets what reader gives to him. so he ends up with a collection of random things reader has found on the side of the road; small bones, pretty pebbles, buttons, little toys that got flung out of car windows, coins, wildflowers, etc.

thank you for listening to my ramblings<3

Like Penguins | Scott x Reader

A/N: Combined two requests.

Javi started it. He handed Scott his sunglasses to hold while he was tying his shoe. Scott took them without even looking up from the tablet he was working on.

It became a little game amongst the rest of the team, one centered around handing Scott random things to see what he’d take without question.

Today was one of those days where you were all playing the game. James handed Scott an empty soda can. It took Scott ten minutes to notice what he was holding and throw it out. Matt handed Scott a rock. It took Scott fifteen minutes to notice and discard it.

Then it was your turn. You’d found a sick coin on the side of the road earlier. You handed it to Scott and like the others, he didn’t even look at you as he took what you were offering.

It took five minutes for Scott to notice what he was holding. He held it up and to everyone’s shock, smiled, just a little bit. Then he tucked the coin into his pocket.

After that, the experiment changed. It turned into everyone urging you to keep handing Scott things. So you did. It was mostly pretty and cool rocks you’d found, but sometimes it was other things like coins or flowers.

He kept every single thing you gave him.

The team was loving throwing out theories about why. But the consensus was clear; Scott had a soft spot for you.

You almost never rode with Scott. So you were pretty excited when Javi told you you’d be riding with Scott today. Scott was stoically quiet as he drove, only seeming to pay attention to you when you started going through the center console.

You were surprised to find all the rocks and coins and flowers and other little knick knacks that you’d handed him over the last few weeks.

“Snooping is rude,” Scott’s stern voice broke through your surprise.

“You kept it all,” you said quietly.

Scott was embarrassed, refusing to look at you and keeping his eyes glued to the road. “Well, yeah,” he said, like it was obvious. “You gave them to me.”

“Scott…” you reached over the console to place your hand on his arm. Scott swore his brain short-circuited for a moment when you touched him. “Did you know penguins court each other by bringing each other pretty pebbles they find?”

Scott blinked. “I vaguely remember hearing something like that,” he replied.

“So…” you hummed, waiting for him to put it together.

“So… oh. Oh.” He looked at you with wide eyes. You couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.

“Well,” he began. “I’m not a penguin. So I’m just going to ask you out on a proper date.”

“Oh?” You grinned.

“(Name), would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Fuck yeah.”

————————————————————————

Scott drove you into the town of El Reno that weekend to go to a nice restaurant. You wore a pretty, short sun dress that you never got a chance to wear. Scott actually got red in the face when he saw you. It was off the shoulders too, Scott swore his mouth watered.

Scott had made reservations and everything. You noticed at the table once you were seated that he was nervously flipping a coin through his fingers. A coin you had given him.

You reached across the table and placed your hand gently on top of his forearm. “Thank you so much for taking me out, Scott.”

Scott smiled, his fingers slowing. “You deserve it,” he replied simply. The hand that had been playing with the coin tucked it back into his pocket before covering your hand that was on his arm. His hand was so big and warm and completely engulfed your hand. You blushed. “You’re red,” Scott commented with a small smile.

The moment was interrupted by the waitress, who couldn’t stop giving Scott bedroom eyes. It was irritating you. “What can I get for you guys?”

You and Scott pulled apart and looked at your menus. Scott ordered first, the waitress obviously flirting as she complimented his choice and called him “hun.” When she turned to you she lost all cheerful niceness and flatly asked, “And you?”

You grit your teeth and ordered, not adding your usual “thank you.” You only relaxed when the waitress walked away. “Are you okay?” Scott asked, brow furrowed. “You got really tense.” You avoided his eyes. “‘M fine.”

Scott reached across the table and opened his hand. You took his hand, your hand being engulfed once more. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand. “What’s wrong?”

“The waitress is just flirting with you really obviously right in front of me. I’m trying not to let it effect my mood, I’m sorry,” you muttered.

Scott squeezed your hand and you looked up at him. His beautiful blue eyes were intently trained on you. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I didn’t even notice she was flirting, I’m sorry.”

“Just watch how she treats you compared to me,” you whispered as the waitress approached, bringing your drinks. “Here you go, honey,” she cooed at Scott, placing his beer in front of him. Then she placed your glass in front of you without even looking away from Scott. “Can I get you anything else?” She asked Scott, completely ignoring you.

Scott looked pointedly at you. “I don’t know, do you want anything else, baby?” He casually dropped the pet name. The waitress finally looked at you with barely concealed disdain. She gave you a fake smile while she waited for your answer. “No,” you said, addressing Scott and not the waitress. “I’m good, honey, thank you.”

The waitress scowled and left.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Scott looked surprised. “For what?”

“For putting a stop to it.”

Scott chuckled. “Yeah, someone’s not getting a good tip.”

The rest of your dinner went smoothly and that waitress didn’t come back. A different waiter delivered the check. “Let me see.” You reached across the table to try and grab the bill but Scott snatched it away from you. “I’m paying so there’s no need for that.”

You tried to argue but Scott wasn’t having any of it. “This is a date,” he assured you. “I took you out. I pay for dinner.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

Scott offered you his hand as you walked out of the restaurant. You took it, feeling nervous like a school girl around her crush.

The conversation on the ride home was casual and relaxed. You couldn’t help but notice how sexy Scott looked driving.

You pulled into the parking lot of the motel Storm Par was staying at for the night. Scott got out first and as you fumbled with your purse, he opened your car door for you. You weren’t used to this princess treatment.

Scott walked you to your room, and you both stopped outside your door. You looked up at Scott with a shy smile. Scott’s eyes didn’t meet yours though. They were trained a little bit lower. In turn, you dropped your gaze to his lips.

Scott put a hand on the side of your face and leaned down, practically bending over to press his lips to yours. The kiss was short and sweet and left you wanting way more.

“I hope you had fun,” Scott said, sounding unsure for the first time since you’d met him.

“I really did,” you assured him eagerly. “Thank you for taking me out.”

Scott just smiled. “Goodnight, (Name).”

“Goodnight, Scott.”