#and honestly a bit terrified what could have happened if I again convinced myself i was more or less normal

[tanuki1029]

Hi! I very much appreciate the sentiment, and I can tell you mean well. Normal and abnormal can be pretty loaded terms.

That being said. This is extremely bad advice for someone dealing with a potential loose grasp on reality. Some hallucinations might not cause any problems for some people, and maybe for them, being told that they're not normal would be primarily hurtful.

I, however, am now learning I genuinely don't have as good a grasp on reality as I thought. I needed input on reasonable realities to figure out if I had one or not. As it turns out, I do not.

I go in and out of thinking I'm god, or being hunted by god. The one I no longer believe in, partially because believing in him made me believe that I could control spiritual forces with my mind, and the followers of that religion encouraging me to believe these things. I was told I have a gift of prophecy, and I still have trouble believing that I cannot see the future.

I didn't know any of that wasn't normal. While I was in the thick of this religion, though, I was not upset by these delusions. I was ecstatic when I could pray hard enough that I felt God's power flowing out of my paws. I was excited to learn how exactly I could use this power to end all of the world's suffering, and it was all very normal for me. So normal, that I saw them as integral to my daily functioning until I fell away from the church from life getting in the way enough for the dread of hell to overpower the ecstasy of being god's chosen Priestess.

If I was less lucid, I would be thanking you for your advice. That wouldn't be a good thing.

Proving a point to myself

[cotton-candy-vodka]

Hi! Who is ur fav ASOUE character?? :)

Hello anon! Thanks for the ask!

ASOUE is one of the few pieces of media I enjoy where I really dont have a favorite character. Typically what makes me choose a character as a favorite is if i see myself in them, and in ASOUE that just happens so freaking much. But i want to answer your question at least a little bit, so here’s some ASOUE characters and how they relate to me/why they’re my “favorite”

Violet - she made a promise to her parents to protect her siblings. And honestly, she loves them so much that I think she’d protect them as fiercely as she does even without the promise. But the paradox with her character lies in the fact that she will do anything to keep her siblings safe: like risking their lives. She suggests stealing a boat and riding it across a large lake in the middle of the hurricane. She convinces her siblings to go down a 46-story elevator shaft at the chance of seeing their new friends. Even though her inventions are typically flawless, a lot of them could fail horribly and end up costing the Baudelaires not only their plan, but their lives. Her love is reckless and impulsive. Violet would destroy herself for her family, but when will she drag them down with her?

Klaus - No matter how much time, research, and dedication this poor boy pours into exposing evil, his work is never enough. Klaus pulls an all-nighter studying a subject he doesnt find interesting in the first book alone - i dare any one of us on this wretched website to do something like that. He shows Mr. Poe proof time and time again that Olaf is lurking and attempting to steal the Baudelaire fortune, but no matter how many facts he conjures up, Mr. Poe is ignorant. He spends the whole series fighting for what he believes is just, only to be told that there are no noble people in this world. The philosophies he built his life on are challenged by the world’s obliviousness, and perhaps unwillingness, to decipher what happens in the shadows. But in a world filled with more grey than black and white, will he become the very thing he’s sworn to destroy by blindly believing in good and evil?

Sunny - Say you lived in the shadow of, oh, I dont know, a pandemic. Gen Alpha will live their lives hearing stories told by those before them about how many deaths there were and how the world stopped. But Gen Alpha themselves will only have a lack of social skills and an accute knowledge of technology, not even realizing that what forged their generation is because of covid. The tragedy lies in the fact that they wont understand what made them what they are and why everyone else is so upset about it. Now, how many people do you know that remember what happened when they were around a year old? Exactly. If Sunny is still alive, she’ll always live in the shadow of unfortunate events that defined her life without her knowing it, all while her siblings suffer from immense trauma and all she can do is watch.

Olaf - Is any of his behavior okay? Absolutely not. But what is so upsetting about his narrative is that I believe he sees himself in the Baudelaires. He sees a childlike naïveté in believing noble people exist, that despite trial after trial one can continue to do what is “right”. But Olaf knows. He knows that there is betrayal, greed, and evil prevalent in everyone. And in his masochistic nature, he finds the Baudelaires learning such life lessons the hard way gratifying. He is satisfied to see others suffer as he did, seeing his vision of the world play out. Heck, he thinks he’s doing these kids a favor, teaching them whole they are still young and able to run from VFD. Terrifying? Yes. Understandable? Also yes.

Quigley - This poor boy. Being only thirteen, stripped of his family and almost everything else he cares about, has to survive by himself. No resources, no help. Just a light at the end of the tunnel: VFD. If he can uncover this mystery, he assumes all will be well, that the hole in his heart will heal. But the more he learns, the more he is brainwashed by the cult that is VFD. His savior slowly killing him from the inside. How poetic is that? (This is definitely going into headcanon territory but definitely dont imagine how if he reunites with his siblings normally he’ll only be a shell of himself and how they’ll try to convince him how VFD destroys everything its sworn to protect and how Quigley doesn’t believe them because if they’re true then what’s left of him??? Definitely do NOT think about that).

Isadora: I am a simple woman. I see a hopeless lesbian crushing on a girl who’s in love with her brother and i receive the biggest emotional attachment of my LIFE

I hope in some round-a-bout way all that answered your question. Have a wonderful day!

[forevergazingatstars]

Today I did something I thought I would never do

I beat The Last of Us Part 2 on grounded mode.

I started playing this game in 2022, about 5 months after I had beaten the first game. Both of these games have always been very close to my heart even before I had the chance to play them.

While I know part 2 is not nearly as beloved in the community as part 1 and, in my honest opinion, I definitely prefer the story of part 1 to part 2. However, ever since I beat part 2 for the first time, I've found myself drawn to it time and time again. I've played through this game on at least 5 separate occasions and spent over 100 hours in it. To put it bluntly, this game feels so good to play.

Maybe going agaist the intentions of the game makers, but shooting people has never felt as good as it feels here. People usually say they hate shooting on controller, but Naughty Dog did a phenomenal job at making the gun play actually feel responsive and good. Like as much as the story makes me want to rip my hair out, there's nothing quite as satisfying as getting to blow peoples heads off afterwards.

Now to get to the point, you might be asking "why'd you say you thought you'd never beat grounded?" to put it in simple terms, I am a level A coward :D just the idea of having to go through this 20 hour game without listening mode terrified me. I do not like dying nor getting spooked by an enemy popping out of nowhere. Also I was convinced that if I ever did make it all the way to the rat king that that would be it and I would be stuck there forever.

Well, what ended up happening was that in April of this year I beat the game on permadeath, which meant I had every single other achievement in the game and I thought "FUCK IT I'M GIVING GROUNDED A TRY" and then I failed miserably.... I ended up not even making it to Abby's section, I got stuck in the mall fight on Ellie day 3 and I just got so incredibly frustrated that I quit.

However, then a couple months passed, and I did have one trick up my sleeve. My first attempt of grounded had been on the normal version, not grounded+. I had wanted to not beat the game on grounded+ just to prove to myself that I could do it without the extra help, but sometimes you have to admit that you need help so again I tried with all my great guns and upgrades.

I will say, my thing about being afraid of not having listening mode proved to not be that much of an issue. The main emotion I felt while playing was not fear, but pure frustration and rage. God this game is so ANNOYING. Like you'd think the gap between survivor and grounded wouldn't be that bad, but it felt like night and day. I kept getting stuck and dying and my main strategy just ended up being to run for my life :D I know grounded isnt even near the hardest gaming challenges and maybe it was just a skill issue but man did I spend hours in some fights not making any progress at all.

Now you might be thinking, what about the rat king? I am happy to say that I BEAT THAT FUCKER FIRST TRY. I wish so badly that I had gotten it on video, because I have never been that locked in during my entire life. It felt like I had become Abby in that moment and I was channeling all my rage into killing that thing. Actually, I struggled wayyyyy more with Ellies bloater fight than the rat king, which was very surprising considering it's the other way around usually.

When I had beaten Abby in the final fight and I was watching the last few cutscenes, I got a bit emotional and teary eyed, which honestly surprised me a lot considering how many times I've played this game. Even during my first playthrough I only cried during the beginning when Ellie was going through Joels home. Maybe I was just happy the suffering would finally be over? I mean I do relate to Ellie on the level that I've also lost my father. Maybe my emotions were heightened because of the struggle and the 6 month journey it took me to get here.

To end this extremely long post I'd just like to say that if you ever think you can't do something, just try it anyway. Even if you end up failing, it's important to challenge yourself and besides, you can always try again. I know beating a video game isnt the coolest thing in the world but I am so proud of myself for not giving up.

[expensive-rainbows]

cw: SA, intrusive thoughts

ok so i know ive told yall some of this but idk how much ive told yall. so bassically three years ago there was this man who would hold the door for my bus since we always got there late so we would get locked out. keep in mind i know i shouldnt feel obligated to share what i was wearing but i cant help but feel that might be part of the reason why he targeted me. my favorite shirt was a sheer blue shirt that you could see my bra through if you looked close enough. this was during winter and i took my coat off on the bus since i didnt want to deal with it at school. he would ask me if i was a Eskimo (im mexican) and i would tell him no and keep walking. he had jolly ranchers and would give everyone some, but he gave me more than everyone else. he would give me double sometimes triple what everyone else got. i found it creepy so i never ate them, i just put them in my backpack and threw them out at the end of the year. everyday, when he held the door for me, and i watched how he treated everyone else and it was only me, he would take up more and more of the doorway everyday. like the first day he would take up a little, the next he would take up a little more, until he got to the point where he wasnt touching me (since im pretty sure its illegal) but that i knew he could if he wanted to. at the same time he would wait outside my fifth hour while we all waited in a line since my teacher went to the bathroom before class. he started by standing in the center of the hallway, and didnt leave until i made eye contact with him. everyday he got closer, until again he didnt touch me, but he was less than a foot away, and he had me cornered. i knew he could do whatever he wanted and no one would see. this lasted about two weeks and ended on december 16, 2023. I remember because it was a thursday and i was so happy the next day when he disappeared. idk if it was just this or something else that ive blocked out, but im terrified of men. like just in general. its been three years and i cant look my band teacher in the eye. ive had him for three years. i couldnt hug my dad for the first three months. my dad is one of the nicest people ive ever met. i know he would never knowingly take advantage of someone. i cant talk to my english teacher alone, i need my friend to go with me to ask to go to the bathroom. but dont worry this is a happy story. so sorry but im gonna give yall even more context. so my school take all the music kids of my grade to a like smaller amusement park, which isnt near us, its a good drive to get there. its kind of a big deal. plus we have one in our town, but its a lot smaller than the one we went to. so anyway the trip was today, and the band group took a picture together. i was in the back row, and idk if the guys in front of me knew i was there or how close i was to them but i was pretty close. like i could see the creases on the back of one of their necks. i could smell him. (he had some sort of cologne on, not axe body spray but close) but i didnt freak out or anything. like i noticed, but i didnt go home and have a panic attack or anything, i wasnt convinced that he was gonna r@pe me, nothing. i was fine. do you have any idea how long its been since i could say that. since i could say that i was fine and mean it. i didnt have a panic attack, didnt hurt myself (i did break my streak a little big ago, but thats because since were at the end of the school year im very sleep deprived and i have exams and i started working plus taekwondo so im busy and tired. and when im tired i take everything personally) its been three years since i could say i was fine and truly mean it. i still get a little weird around guys/men, but its getting better. now its only physical proximity, i can look them in the face! i know this probably sounds sad but im honestly happy. also quick question.

[here-have-some-stories]

Silent Laughter Chapter 6

I must not have been alert enough. I jolted a bit, and realised I had fallen asleep. The knife I had been holding was lying on the bed, next to my hand that was limp next to it. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and looked around my room, making sure everything was still the same. Naturally of course the first area of the room my eyes went to was the mattress against the window. Needless to say, I didn’t have to look for very long to tell that everything was very much not the same.

There was a hole ripped right through the mattress, which had also come through the window. It looked about the exact size for a head to be able to fit through it. I feared the worst. That creature had been back while I was asleep. I picked the knife back up again, gripping it tight in my hand. Holding it in a position where I could easily strike out at anything, I did a quick sweep of my room, searching for anything that was different. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so maybe it had only been spying on me while I slept. For some reason that idea scared me more than if it had actually done something. I told myself that I actually had no proof that the thing had come back, but there wasn’t anyone else around that could have cut a hole like that into the mattress. They were all gone. All gone, most likely because of that thing. 

I started to feel a sense of anger building up in me. Anger mixed with fear. This thing seemed to be playing games with me. I was no survivor, so how was it I had lasted this long? The only conclusion I could come up with was that that thing was savouring my continuous moments of terror. Or it was just pure luck, although it would have to be a hell of a lot of luck. Of course another possible explanation was that I was just crazy, that all of this was in my head. Honestly, I didn’t know which answer was more frightening.

A sudden crash and the sound of smashing glass snapped me out of my thinking, and I whipped my head towards the kitchen. Every ounce of logic I had told me not to go towards the sound, to stay safe in my room. But I noticed recently logic was not winning me over. I had opened the door for the knocking, even if it was a dream,  gone on a walk outside, and now I was considering investigating the noise. I seemed to be drawn to these things happening. I had always been a bit of a coward, so why was I so interested when it really seemed like life or death?

I didn’t really realise until I was halfway down the hallway that I realised what I was doing. I was too busy thinking again that I hadn’t even realised what I was doing. That seemed to be happening a lot recently. Might just be better to stop thinking overall. 

I rounded the corner that led into the kitchen, stepping into it very cautiously. I did a similar sweep of the room like I did with my room. I inspected all the glass things, the windows, the glasses, some plates. I briefly thought maybe the noise had actually come from another room, but for some reason I convinced myself it was this room. 

But just to be sure, I did a safety check of all the other rooms in the house, doing a similar inspection like I had done in the kitchen. After an hour of checking everything, I found nothing, and decided to retreat back to my room. I glanced at the hole cut into the mattress, and saw that it was still the same, then did another safety check throughout the room to make sure nothing had snuck in while I had been absent. 

I sat back down on my bed, back against the wall and my knees drawn up. Honestly, I didn’t know if finding something would have been worse than not finding anything. On the one hand, stumbling across that creature, or another body of someone that had been cruelly murdered, was a terrifying thought. But on the other hand, the thought of that thing actually being in the house somewhere, was even worse. Panic rose up in me, and despite common sense telling me I probably wouldn’t find anything new, I got up off my bed, and did another quick safety inspection of the house.

Every room in the house was the exact same, as expected. But the fact that it was the same, made my parents room the hardest to look at. The part of the noose that was left was still hanging from the roof, seeming like a horrible reminder of what had happened to my mother, and everyone else. I suddenly became aware of a smell in the room, and looked down to see that my vomit from before hadn't been cleaned up, and was beginning to soak into the floor, filling the room with that gross smell. 

I had nothing to do, so I figured it might be best to keep myself busy, starting by cleaning up the mess on the floor. I exited my parents old room heading towards where we keep our cleaning supplies. As I passed my room, a brief glance showed me that the hole in the mattress was still the same. When I walked past it again, cleaning supplies in hand heading back to my parents room, I did another check. Still nothing had changed. I decided to check the mattress everytime I walked past the room. I didn’t trust. I had a feeling, one of the checks would show me something in it, maybe the creature's head shoved through the hole, watching me without its eyes.

I spent about fifteen minutes trying to scrub my vomit out of the floor, but it must have been there too long and stained. I gave up on even trying. Like I was eventually going to do a lot of things I thought. 

I wanted food. It seemed strange that I felt hungry when I was cleaning up the thing that most people would lose their appetite from, but everything was strange right now. I mean, if you thought about it, everything had always been a bit strange, even before all these creepy things started happening. The world is truly a strange world. 

Glancing at the mattress as I walk past, I see nothing, and continue down on my way to the kitchen. I make myself a sandwich and sit at the kitchen bench. As I chew on the half stale bread, I figure I should probably move away from the house, go somewhere else to try and hide from the thing. I should go somewhere more secluded, an area that would be hard to get to. I could grab a bunch of supplies I had already had access to in the house. Food, some kitchen knives and anything else I could use to defend myself with. And maybe, if I moved location, the creature wouldn’t be able to find me. I might be able to escape. Maybe I could find a place where people were alive and get help from them. Then maybe, everything could turn out alright in the future.

Next Chapter ->

Please give feedback if you have any and tell me if you liked it or not. If you have any suggestions for stories you want me to write you can send me an ask and I'll try and get to it. Hope you enjoyed it!

[bravewolfvesperia]

"I had to do what I thought was right." (Rays verse -eyes emoji- )

@mistralxsoul

Really, truly and honestly, Yuri wished they could have somehow established the whole situation before Yuri had gone into an absolute panic that included ignoring plans and orders and just jumping out at the enemy. Of course their enemies always knew to be careful and there was always the possibility of being attacked, but... Yuri had literally jumped out in front of them and alerted the enemy that they were literally right on their trail. At the time, he quite bluntly had put figuring out Flynn's safety over their plans.

Thankfully the people had with them could salvage pretty much anything if they tried, and everyone did manage to change and fix their plans afterward to end up successfully getting Ix back in the end. Even Karol had gotten upset with him at that point though, even if not super seriously so... but at the time it all happened, Yuri really in all honesty just... acted. He just knew Flynn's body was being used by a total stranger who was working for the enemy, and some of those bodies were also of dead people.

Heck, Raven had tried to convince Yuri not to do any of that, but Yuri had pointedly made himself clear that he couldn't not get involved. By now he felt sort of bad for causing the trouble he did, but he also knew if he relived it, he'd just... do the same thing all over again. Wasn't Mileena exactly the same way? She had been a mess over Ix the whole time, prioritizing him and making him the entire mission itself.

How was Yuri any different?

Right to the end even, he was still antsy and ready to run off at a moment's notice. If anything, it was Leon and Jade who probably kept him mostly in check. As soon as neither of them were there, he literally did run off to find Flynn on his own... again. It was almost weird to remember exactly everything that had happened. Nothing like that was happening in their world. He never had to fear losing Flynn like that - being able to see the man's face and hear his voice but it not be Flynn.

Right now everything was okay. Flynn was here and safe, and all of Yuri's panic had gone out of him. Rather, now he was just leaning against Flynn's side, everyone try to recover from the storm of that last battle and the two of them being no different. Ix hadn't woken up yet, but his life didn't seem to be in any danger, so everyone was mostly calm. Things in general were just... calming down. Even Yuri was able to calm down for the first time in a long time.

"I know, I know. Just... having you alone in enemy territory was terrifying, you know. And it's not like this was the Imperial Knights under Alexei or the council. It was all... unfamiliar enemies and territories. You'll have to forgive me if I compare myself to Mileena here, given the extreme circumstances of her and Ix's situation, but she was pretty shaken up about Ix too when we first lost him."

Of course, it wasn't meant to be an excuse for repeatedly gearing his actions toward saving Flynn, but he did understand why he was prioritizing. He was doing exactly what Mileena was doing and would have done in any other situation. Heck, in a way, it made him a little... just a tiny bit spiteful how he was expected to set Flynn aside - to set the person he'd spent almost his entire life with aside - for a guy he knew for maybe a few months before he was trapped in a crystal all that time.

He didn't hate anyone for it, just... the way they all made the whole mission about saving Ix, and being so ready to leave Flynn with a stranger using his body and then, when Flynn was Flynn again, leaving him alone surrounded by enemies who could have actually killed him if they caught on sooner? Yuri was no saint. He couldn't just accept that the mission basically meant telling himself Ix was worth something more than Flynn.

In this world, sure, maybe Ix's powers were more important than Flynn, who could just be written off as some knight from some other world, but again: Yuri was no saint. Part of him was still bias and would remain that way. He tried his best to act normal around others - especially Luke so as not to worry him, but he'd spent every moment worrying and thinking about Flynn. They'd spent the last couple of days calming down with everyone else, but Yuri at this point had hardly left Flynn's side.

"I know we had a mission and you had your own part in it that you wanted to do for yourself. I just couldn't handle the idea of possibly losing you at all, let alone in a world that isn't even ours. Heck, we can't even ever go back home. Did they tell you that yet? We're... just copies of ourselves. The 'real' us are back home doing... whatever at this point. Been over a year now, so who knows. But all I knew during all that is that I could never go home, could never see the Lower Quarter again, and you were right in front of me after I couldn't find you anywhere, only for you to be in, well, that whole mess."

What else was he supposed to do, just say okay, sure, he'd leave Flynn alone and wait until they could maybe get around to helping him? Just because Yuri understood now what the situation had been and that Flynn was aware of everything going on didn't mean the Yuri prior to that hadn't nearly lost his goddamn absolute mind wondering if something irreversible had happened to the literal only thing left from his life before chasing after a damn core thief.

Just having Flynn back - just having him here this close, made Yuri feel like it wasn't a waste to have been so pushy about Flynn that first time around. He had made his point known to everyone and had made it very very clear that Flynn's safety was not something he was going to leave on the backburner. If that had been any of his other friends, he would have reacted similarly to them too. That was just how he was. But... Flynn...

He bore no ill will toward Mileena nor Ix by any means, but they were simply... not the center of his world. His decisions were not going to revolve around them. They had their plans and their people - and oh they had plenty of people now and had come beyond a long way from Yuri being the only one along with Repede to even be in their world. Yuri had his, and... he wasn't going to set that aside for anything. He couldn't. He was pretty sure he could safely say he'd been through enough scares with Flynn, and this cemented that. He wasn't even sure he wanted to consider how he would have reacted if he did actually lose Flynn.

But for now they could just... get Flynn situated here. He was being moved in with Yuri and it didn't seem like anyone held any hard feelings toward Yuri either. He wouldn't blame them if they did, but... it wasn't going to make him regret anything. He was a bit... embarrassed... that Flynn had actually seen and heard everything, but... maybe then he did really understand that Yuri wasn't just messing around, trying to pick fights, trying to be impatient, or... any of that. That he was actually, for once, genuinely panicked and angry that someone would do that to Flynn. He just wanted Flynn back in his own body right then and there and to get him home.

Heck, Baldo even tried to correct him and tell him outright that he wasn't necessarily "possessing" Flynn - that Flynn had allowed it on his own - but at the time, that was, well... definitely not what Yuri needed to hear nor react to. Baldo hadn't meant ill toward Flynn himself, but Yuri was still just... scared.

It was almost a damn fever dream at this point with how much movement and anything hectic had ceased here. On that note, he should probably check in with Asbel later too... Richard had been part of that whole possession mess too. Geez... what a serious mess all of that was, and for so many people.

Finally Yuri sighed and laced his fingers through Flynn's. It didn't entirely matter that it was all resolved. Some of the terror of the time it all happened still lingered in him. Maybe in the end, yeah, it wasn't as bad as he thought it was at first, but... he still had to feel those things at that time.

For a short moment, the tiniest pout slipped onto his face. "Don't blame me if I struggle to let you out of my sight for a while." Even if Flynn hadn't allowed Baldo to use his body, what if... they couldn't make use of Flynn because of that and just... killed him? Without Yuri ever knowing what happened to him? Those kind of thoughts still haunted him, and being pulled out of his own world to be here without Flynn for so long had just... really propelled those fears forward. He really didn't want to admit it to Flynn in the event it actually made Flynn feel terrible about it, but that... was one of the worst things that had happened in Yuri's life. Maybe actually the worst.

"Sorry. It was just... pretty terrible. I'll be okay. I mean... as long as you're okay, I'm okay. I know you did what you thought you needed to do and I don't blame you for it - I really don't. I'm just... glad you're back with me again."

[turtlemagnum]

i seem to have misremembered both that hoax and this reddit post of his as confirmation of that hoax. good to know i've been wrong! sorry to have spread misinformation!

what the text says for screenreader people because there's not enough room in the alt text:

To reply to a deleted comment: I’m not hiding, this has just taken some time to write.

I took down that tumblr post because I honestly don’t remember it (I’ll get to my mental problems of late 13 to early 15) and it’s ugly enough to be misconstrued and even if it could be construed there’s little positive value in it. What it looks like I’m trying to say is, “There’s a whole lotta weird dick admiration for this heinous shit but where’s all the love for the heinous shit Vivec did with their other bits?”

That’s my read of it, anyway. But you want a bigger explanation, though, some kind of wide and comprehensive one. I mean that’s the point of this whole thing, so sure, let’s talk. This is going to be long.

For over ten years, I abused liquor and benzos, a combination that tends to kill you. It started as a way to deal with anxiety and depression until it just became my life. I finally got to the rock bottom point where I didn’t want to die, so I went into detox (very soon I’ll hit my seventh year sober, but that’s not really part of this). What happened after detox was a shitload of terrifying stuff that no one told me about that happens early on (or maybe just happened to me) that I'm only just now getting my head around. This is where the nightmare starts.

It was terrifying stuff like getting out of detox and not quite being... well, it’s a lot like having missing time but that isn't the right term... getting out of detox and not being fully present in my own skin for a whole year and some change. I'm not talking about the pink cloud or readjusting to a life without drinking and drugs (all of which one can read about and find comfort in), but stuff like…

Thinking I was dead and a ghost, like for real-real thinking I was dead and in hell and still communicating with my wife. As in, only she could see me but only through some kind of magic glass. At one point, I thought I had to stand in the shower and talk through the glass door so she could hear me properly.

Being convinced that people were out to get me, sometimes a weird shadow consortium of psychiatrists and law enforcement, other times the friends I was having lunch with, or online circles of people that I “knew” were laughing at my confusions, and sometimes it was simply supernatural entities like demons, magicians, or, yes, ghosts.

Having a looping always-happening sense of deja vu, where I was stuck in a state of I was just there doing these things just then, a Groundhog Day but in seconds. It turned out to be my brain rewriting itself while finding a new medication cocktail with my doctor. And finding that was hard because I was convinced we had already done it six seconds ago and why was this doctor trying to trick me? Again? Everyone, including myself, felt like it was tricking me into thinking— into believing— that what I was doing just now was something I did just a moment before.

Putting myself in strange situations because I thought after detox I was invincible, or the funniest person alive, or a fashion statement from the future, or a secret lockpick to the underground (whatever that meant but it definitely meant something enough for me to keep talking about it for awhile) or a cruel demigod who could say anything to anyone without guilt or admonishment. In this stage of thrilling horribleness, I said awful things while kicking shoes off and jumping on tables that I believed would spiral up like Enochian discs up through the air to golden thrones.

Practicing automatic writing, asking people for music soundtracks for capital-I important projects I was doing, and honest to God trying to make clocks tick backwards with my mind.

Trembling, rambling, full on panicking that I had been replaced by someone else and yet still stuck inside them. Constant passenger, my wife unable to know it, her being tricked instead by my epidermal doppelgänger.

“Reliving" portions of my childhood where I discovered horrible secrets about my father and my babysitters and by discovered I really mean making shit up to explain what was happening to me in this haze of being sober and in a batshit crazy living nightmare because I got sober.

This is the stuff that they don’t tell you. Or at least didn’t tell me. I went into a facility to get better, to conquer insobriety, and when my insurance ran out, they said I was good to go. That’s another thing that they don’t tell you: your journey to healing is only on their premises for as long as your deductible allows. Maybe they do tell you and I didn’t listen because the reason I got into detox was I was simply going to die if I didn’t. My drinking had become so bad that blacking out was more the norm than just being awake. Either way, my post-detox was a nightmare because— in the well-deal-with-it state— you are in no way ready to be outside, unsupervised, your brain and body unable to deal with an unregulated withdrawal that turns you into a goddamn alien. And it lasts for what seems like forever (especially the phase of infinite deja vu).

What I did have is my wife, who patiently carried my post-detox psychoses with me, helping me to ride it out. Ride it out for a year to eighteen months, no matter how scary it must have gotten for her, what with my brain transforming its interactions with reality, each variation of that unannounced, each variation bringing new ways to make me feel unable to be really ever human again. And when you feel like that, you often get angry at everything (becoming sober was supposed to heal you not twist you up and dump you on an unrecognizable earth), or you get elated because you are a pillar of newfound power, messianic and reborn, without need for conscience or restraint (“I say what I want!”), or you get frightened because you’re now a shower ghost with no way back to someone you love so much.

My wife brought me back. She found me doctors that could help. Cleaned up after me. Put up with my mean-spirited tirades and unearthly new manias. Reminded me our dog always knew who I was because he could smell through all my unwanted disguises.

I hurt a lot of friendships, a lot of people I didn’t know, and a lot of co-workers during this time. I wrote things I don’t understand, don’t condone, and half the time don’t remember. I was awful when I was supposed the be getting better. If you got to know me from anywhere between 2013-2015, I’m really sorry, I thought I had no way back to sanity. And in the ten years before, I wasn’t much better.

-MK

*I meant to post some of this during National Recovery Month but you wanted some kind of answer.

just described a bit of khajiit lore to my grandma and she said facetiously, "and how many drugs were we on writing this?", not knowing a damn thing about michael kirkbride. i hear he's gotten clean in more recent years and is self reportedly far better off for it, but you've gotta admit that from the standpoint of the writing itself there's something to be said about the combination of unsustainable quantities of acid and a theology degree to creating a very distinct identity and feel

[rawbins-undertale-blog]

hey there again!!!

might i slide in this fine ask box with another HC request?

if yes, then could you please write some HCs where uf and ht sanses and papyruses (seperate of course) s/o gets put in a hospital for a lil bit? you can decide what happened to s/o. maybe a bad heatstroke cuz its summer or something (totally not because its a bad heatwave where im living rn haha nope). idk, i just crave angst or hurt/comfort again from my fave skeletons.

if you're not up for this, its totally fine!!

thank you, have a chill day/night B)

- 🌌 anon whos sunburns arent stinging that much anymore B)

*Evil cackling* OH-HO-HO, yOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT MONSTER YOU HAVE UNLEASHED…… I am an evil being who feeds off of angst and pain, and you’ve given me ample opportunity to make some of that sweet sweet angst >:-)))))))))

I tried to keep it ambiguous as to what you’re in for, mostly because I want you to be able to imagine heatstroke and me to be able to think “hahahah stab stab”! ^^

Also!!! The healthcare system in some other countries is fucking insane (like??? You guys have to pay to not die??????) so I’ll be going off of what I know about the healthcare system in Sweden where it’s free. (At least I’m 99% sure it’s free, except for like. Small things. For example, my antidepressants. I had to buy those myself when I was still on them.)

UF + HT BROS WHEN S/O IS IN THE HOSPITAL

Red (Underfell Sans):

He’s panicking so so bad, he’s terrified. What if you die?

Curses out anybody who tries to keep him from you, including the poor nurse who’s just doing their job

Actually he just. curses in general. He’s just spewing cuss words to seem angry instead of scared because That’s Definitely Better

Most likely out of all four to physically lash out at… well, anybody (except you obviously) lol

Red hates hospitals too, to make matters worse. He doesn’t know why, but they make him feel uncomfortable.

If somebody did this to you purposely and he’s not allowed by your side, he’s going out to find the person and kick their ass during that time lol

If nobody did this to you, he’s pacing and cursing and jfc Red, you do realise there are other people here right enjdjdjdjsjsk

This fucker tries to pull a “pfff nah i was never worried” but like. Red. Darling. Light of my life. Stars in my sky. Center of my universe. Bitch of my heart. Everyone can see right through your “anger” and literally your shaking voice is so not convincing. Get a better poker face and voice.

With some prodding, admits that finehewasscaredyou’ddieandhethoughthisheartstoppedforasecondwhichisweird’causehedoes’tevenhaveaheartanywaysthat’sovernowsowhocares

(He’s not great at expressing himself but it’s still progress)

WILL be staying right by you as you recover. You’ve no choice. (You do actually, he respects you and will back off if you tell him to)

Edge (Underfell Papyrus):

Oh no. Oh no.

Edge is trying his very best not to show any emotions but he’s not good at it because like. It doesn’t take a genius to see that him screeching angrily at people and demanding for the doctors to fix this is actually him poorly masking his fear. Edge doesn’t have the best poker face lol

He’s so pissed if he can’t stay right next to you the whole time. You’re his S/O!! What kind of bullshit is this?!

If you do need to be left alone with doctors and such things, Edge will do one or two things depending on why you're in the hospital, how bad what you’re in for is and for how long he can’t see you.

If you’re here for something like heatstroke - AKA something not brought on by somebody else - he’ll call friends and such while pacing and somewhat frantically share your current condition.

However, if anybody did this to you; and you’re in bad shape… Well, even fucking Satan will cower at the brutality of Edge’s revenge.

When he’s allowed to be, he’s by your side and - depending on why you’re in and for what - he might nag you for being careless, reassure you it wasn’t your fault, reassure you in general, and/or just stay silent.

It’s barely noticeable, but just noticeable enough, that you can tell that he’s shaking.

All it takes is a “are you okay?” For him to break and confess how scared he was.

For a moment he was back Underground and it was horrible and he felt so powerless and he hates that. He’s so, so happy you’re okay and he- he swears he’ll be with you on your way to recovery. Please just never get hurt again.

Dusk (Horrortale Sans):

If you thought Red and Edge were scared, just know it’s nothing compared to the absolute terror he feels.

Dusk knows how fragile the human body can  be. He’s seen horrific things happen to humans and monsters alike and he’s always hyper-aware of just how easy it’d be to kill and/or hurt you.

Logically, he knows you won’t die, he knows human anatomy well enough to know this is something you’ll bounce back from, but his instincts are going haywire and all he can think of are the mangled corpses back Underground. It doesn’t matter whether your condition has anything to do with broken limbs or not, because those pictures are what his mind is forcing onto him.

He refuses to leave your side. If he’s forced away from you by nurses/doctors/staff, he’ll protest but if he really can’t be by you for your safety, he’ll be anxiously hovering as close by as he possibly can. Whenever he’s allowed to touch you, he’s practically glued onto you.

If he’s sure it’s just the two of you, and you’re unconscious, he’ll probably cry.

He… He hates being reminded of your mortality. He hates the idea that any day could be your last. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you were gone.

(He’d dust, probably.)

If somebody else got your purposely hurt, he’s going to hunt them down after a while (after you’ve recovered enough for him to be comfortable leaving you alone for a bit). He’s not going to kill them, but he might rough them up a bit -- but most likely, he’ll just intimidate them and/or threaten them. (It’d be a different story if you were murdered.)

Whenever you’re conscious, he’ll do pretty much anything you say, so long as it won’t get you anymore hurt or risk stunting your recovery.

When you’re released from the hospital, he’ll be by your side nearly 24/7 because he hates the idea of you getting hurt again just because he wasn’t there to protect you.

Aster (Horrortale Papyrus):

Tries to look calm and composed, but he does about as poor of a job as his brother. He does better in that he doesn’t act out or get in the way of the nurses, but he’s also crying and shaking and sobbing and can’t stop.

You getting injured triggers him pretty badly. If you’re not bleeding, it’ll probably be “only” a bad anxiety attack, but if there’s any blood involved it’s escalating into a full-blown panic attack.

He’s a nurse himself, but I doubt he’d be allowed to work with the other nurses when it comes to you because of how unsteady he is. He’s not sure whether he’s thankful for it or not, because he doesn’t trust himself to do a good job but he also wants to be there for you. He trusts his colleagues, but it’s still nerve-wracking.

Just like the others, he’s glued to your side when he’s allowed to be. Very metaphorically. He’s the best of them all at giving you space, partially because he’s just more respectful lol and partially because he’s a nurse so he knows not to smother you with physical affection until you’re in the clear.

If somebody caused you to go into this state, he will just like Dusk go and find them. He won’t do anything physical, but he does intimidate the person very effectively. He’s a terrifying giant and he knows how to use that to his advantage.

When you’re fine again, he’ll be acting anxious and protective for a while. He feels really guilty about it (because he should be comforting you - plus, he’s a nurse! He’s seen way worse things on his job) but you’ll have to give him comfort. This whole thing didn’t inspire much positive feelings in him and it stressed him out a lot, it may honestly take more of a toll on him than it does you.

[crysalita]

Left Behind

Bo Sinclair x Reader

Word Count: 2439

Warnings: Suicide mentioned when Bo is telling the story about Trudy.

I had to admit that I never actually wanted to be here, on a road trip that is, but somehow I had managed to find myself getting an invite from Carly, who claimed there needed to be more girls. I reluctantly agreed to tag along, and so far I was regretting that poorly made decision.

I was a third wheel as I lagged behind Carly and Wade. I felt as if all I had done so far since we arrived in this town was either roll my eyes or sigh at their constant flirting. If I had of known that this is what my day was going to consist of then I would have said no in a heartbeat.

The small town we had arrived in gave me strange vibes, whether it was because the town was oddly empty even though we could hear chatter, or whether it was because of the two men that we had come across.

Bo, the man that works at the gas station, spent most of the time eyeing me down after the run in at the church, I didn’t know how to feel about it.

“So, Y/n. What did you think about Bo? He seems to have taken quite an interest in you.” Carly teased, nudging my shoulder.

We were in the gas station looking for whatever part that Wade needed.

“Don’t be stupid, he was just being friendly.” I scowled.

“Coming from a guys perspective, he definitely finds you hot.” Wade spoke up.

I sent him a glare. “Just look for that part.”

“He’s got everything, but a 15 inch. I’ll just have to use a 16 inch.” Wade grabbed a hold of the strap that he needed, but we were startled when we heard another voice.

“Are you planning on stealing that?” When I turned around, I was met with Bo leaning against the door frame, still in his suit and tie. I had to admit that the suit did look good on him.

“No, we just didn’t know how much longer you were gonna be, and you know, we didn’t wanna interrupt again.” Wade rushed out. “But I left you some money on the counter, but you don’t even really have the right size. You don’t have any 15 inches.”

“I do at the house.” Bo replied, not looking in the slightest bit like he was convinced by Wade’s constant stuttering, I couldn’t blame him though, Wade made us look more suspicious than we actually were.

“Look, I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea that we’re in here.” Carly attempted to ease the tension.

“Yeah, we already feel bad enough after interrupting the first time, we just didn’t want to do it again.” I smiled politely. In return, Bo sent me one of his own smiles and gestured for us to come out of the shed.

“No worries. That was in the past. We can move on from that.” Bo replied as he held the door open for us.

“You keep fan belts at your house?” Wade asked.

“I get things delivered there when I’m not here. Look, if you want to hold onto the 16, that’s fine by me.” Bo was looking more agitated by the minute.

“No, it’s okay.”

Bo led us outside of the gas station and we began our journey to the house that Bo lived at. My legs were already tired enough as it was from all the walking we had done, and I honestly wasn’t trying to do anymore.

“So, is it too late to sign Carly up for that beauty pageant?” Wade asked with a smirk on his face.

“Now unfortunately it is, well at least for you-” Bo turned and nodded in my direction. “-Because you have won, hands down.” I blushed slightly at his comment but shook it off quickly as I looked away.

“Thank you.” I mumbled. My gaze landed on Carly who was giving me a smug smile to which I rolled my eyes at.

“That house of Wax is pretty cool.” Wade changed the subject. This caught Bo’s attention.

“You went inside?”

“Yeah, it was unlocked.”

“I did try to tell them they shouldn’t, but they both happen to be very stubborn.” I didn’t dare step foot into the House of Wax. Knowing myself I would probably end up ruining the art in there, and I would never forgive myself if I destroyed someone’s art that they, more than likely, spent hours trying to create. I did manage to get quick look inside when Carly and Wade entered, and it truly was amazing.

“Everything seems to be unlocked ‘round here, don’t it? Thank you for having respect.” I was rewarded with another one of his smiles that really did compliment his face, although he did use quite an odd choice of words as it made him seem all the creepier.

I shared a look between the other two, who were also very creeped out.

“I did get a look inside though, when they opened the door that is, and the wax sculptures are amazing.” I complimented. I was a bit bummed out that I couldn’t see the artwork up close to see their full detail, but my conscious got to the best of me and now I was glad that I didn’t go in.

“Yeah, people used to come and see it from miles away. Trudy was the main artist.” I could imagine the amount of people that I wanted to see it, but for some reason there wasn’t any.

“What about Vincent?” Carly questioned. “I saw his name on a lot of the work.”

“One of Trudy’s boys.”

“That family must be very talented. Are any of them still around? I would love to meet them, and maybe they could help me out with some of my own art.” I commented.

“Oh- no. It’s a horrible story. Trudy’s husband, Doctor Sinclair, he was a doctor. He got his licence revoked for doing surgery’s on the side, you know, stuff that most doctors wouldn’t do. So, he moved him and Trudy out here to Ambrose, made a fresh start in medical practise and Trudy found her calm with the whole wax sculpture thing.” Bo explained as we walked past the House of Wax. “It was her dream to do something incredible here. Then she had a couple of kids-”

“What’s so horrible about that?”

“Trudy got a cyst in her brain, she just started rottin’ away.” My eyes widened as Bo continued the story. It was really starting to take a dark turn. “Couldn’t work no more, she went crazy, and it got so bad, that Doctor Sinclair had to strap her up to the bed. The whole town could hear her screaming from the house. And Doctor Sinclair was so depressed that he couldn’t save her he-” Bo creates a gun with his fingers and pretends to shoot himself in the head. “Blew his head right off.”

“That’s horrible.” I mumbled.

By now we were approaching the last house on the road, meaning this was where Bo was staying. The sky was getting darker and darker by the minute, making the situation all the more terrifying.

“Hey, uh, why don’t you three hop in, and I’ll go get that fanbelt for ya’” Bo opened the door to his car and gestured for us to hop in.

“No, we actually have some friends picking us up where the roads washed out.” Carly interrupted.

“I’ll give ya’ a lift there. It’s the least I could do then for making ya’ll wait.” Carly and I both turned to Wade who was nodding his head.

“Could I use the toilet?” I asked Bo as Carly hopped into the car.

“Yeah, of course. You said you need to use the can too, didn’t ya?” Bo faced Wade. He then proceeded to ask Carly the same question before he led us into his house.

The house was nothing less than what I expected, not that I expected much. To no surprise, it was quite messy, but I couldn’t hold that against Bo, as he most likely wasn’t expecting guests.

“So, where ya’ headed too anyway?”

“Uh, where just headed to a football game.” Wade answered.

“Bathrooms just down the hall. Let me get out of this jacket and tie, and I’ll get the fanbelt. I have another bathroom upstairs for ya’ to use.” I followed Bo up the stairs as Wade walked down the hall. I began feeling nervous as now I was left alone. “You interested in football?” Bo cocked his head to the side as he looked at me. I found myself staring a little longer than I should have, which Bo took notice of too, as his lips twitched up into a sly smirk.

“No, not really. Just here for Carly.” Bo nodded his head along with what I was saying before he popped another question, a very unexpected question.

“I take it ya’ single than?”

“What makes you think that?” I stammered.

“Well, considering those two are tied to the hip, that would most likely mean that if ya’ were seeing someone, then they’d be 'ere too.” Bo explained as he shrugged off his jacket. “And if it were me, I wouldn’t let ya’ out of my sight. Especially in a town I’ve never been in.” Bo opened a door that revealed to be the second bathroom he owned. I walked in and closed the door and instantly let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

This man was making me feel all kinds of things, and I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

I did my business and exited the bathroom to see Bo waiting outside, this time he was dressed in casual clothing, and no longer rocked a suit and tie. I had to admit that this man could certainly pull off both looks.

“Did you need help getting anything? I don’t mind helping.” I offered.

“That would be nice, thank you.” I followed behind Bo, who led us into the garage that was covered in tools and what I could only assume was car parts.

“Is it always this quiet in town?” I watched as Bo gathered some things and placed them in crate he had. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, so I waited where he had placed down the crate.

“Depends on the day, I guess. Sometimes it can be noisy, believe or not, and some days it’s dead silent. Today just so happens to be one of those days.” Bo mumbled.

All of a sudden the lights were cut off and everything went pitch black. I immediately put my arms out to reach for something to grab a hold of. “Bo?” I held my hand out in the direction of where Bo was last stood. “Bo? Where are you?” I felt his hand come in contact with my own.

“I’m right here, sweets.” I was thankful the lights were off so Bo couldn’t see the blush spread out across my burning face. “I don’t know what happened.” The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed throughout the garage, and then I heard the sound of the horn from outside.

“They must be waiting for us.” I muttered to no one in particular. The lights then turned on and I found myself extremely close to Bo as his chest was almost plastered to my back. “Sorry about that. That was childish.” I apologised I pulled myself away from Bo.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Ya’ get a little scared of the dark, nothing to be ashamed of.” Bo picked up the crate of tools. “I’m going to take this stuff out to the truck. Would you mind finding the wrench for me? It should be in one of the drawers over there.” Bo nodded his head in the direction of where the cupboard filled with drawers were before he exited the garage.

Everything felt scarier now that I was alone and everything around me was silent. I could hear my own breathing with how silent it was, and I hated it.

I searched through the different drawers before I found the wrench that I was looking for.

I began hearing shouting from outside and I quickly made my way outside, only to find the truck driving away and Bo standing outside, the tools scattered across the ground. “Bo, what happened?” I slowly approached Bo who was seething with anger, that was until he turned around to me. His face relaxed as he locked eyes with my own.

“Your little friends just decided to drive off with my truck. I guess they forgot that there was a third one with them.” My mood dulled at his words. How could they just leave me like that? “Hey, don’t let them get ya’ down. You don’t need 'em. Especially after the way they’ve acted today.” That didn’t change the fact that someone that I considered to be my best friend, had just left me behind to run off with her boyfriend, did I ever really mean anything to her. “Listen, I have another truck at the station, if ya’ like, we could walk down tomorrow morning and I could drive ya’ where you need to go.”

“That’d be great. Thanks.” Bo walked back inside, forgetting about the tools that were lying all around.

“You can sleep on the couch for tonight. I’ll get ya’ some blankets to keep ya’ warm. Did ya’ want something to eat?” Bo yelled out as he walked up the stairs.

“I’m good.” I called back. I sat down on the couch and stared off into nothing, this day was going horrible. I sighed as I placed my head into my hands and tiredly rubbed my eyes.

“Hey, ya’ know. I’d love to see ya’ some more. I wasn’t lying when I said ya’ were pretty. Definitely caught my eye.” Bo placed down the blankets on the end of the couch as he sat down beside me.

I found myself blushing for what felt like the millionth time today. “Really? I’d like to see you more too.” I whispered, looking everywhere but the man beside me.

Bo placed his finger on my chin and guided me to look in his direction. “Look at me when ya’ speak. I want to see ya’.”

Before I knew it, we had spent what felt like hours talking on that couch before I eventually got tired and fell asleep, and that was definitely the only good part about my day, getting to talk to Bo.

[thefanficmonster]

Unlucky

Part 2: ‘Lucky Me’

Corpse Husband x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Corpse decides to email back a person who has sent him quite a few creepy stories. She never seems to run out of scary encounters of both sorts: paranormal and stranger-danger. He gets suspicious that the stories are all made up so she can grab his attention, but he’s in for a surprise.

U/N - username

Requested: No

Corpse’s POV

I’m looking through my most recent emails from fans. They are all of scary encounters they’ve allegedly experienced. By now, I’ve read so many, it’s easy to decipher which are real and which are just made up nonsense. Some, I must admit, give me chills. Big props to the people who write those, especially if they are made up. If you can make someone’s skin crawl with your twisted, frightening imagination, you have one, for lack of a better term and in the most positive way, fucked up mind.

My cursor lands on the familiar username I see almost every other week. U/N. They have been sending stories consistently for about three years now. They, and I’m saying they cause you can never be sure who’s hiding behind the username, are either the most unlucky person to walk the planet or the one with most twisted imagination and story telling skills. I’ll admit, sometimes I narrate a story just because it’s well written. Believability is not the only thing I go by, I also reward creativity. And this person, U/N, has had their spot in many of my videos in the last three years. I’m honestly hoping they are made up, or at least some of them, because not only are there too many of them, but none of them fail to give me that eerie paranoia after I read them or the chills while I read them.

Once again, they have submitted a downright terrifying story. It would be a shame if I didn’t narrate it.

It would be a shame if I....

If I never actually meet them.

This many run-ins with people with malicious intent, always getting away by some miracle, what if they one day don’t make it out alive to tell it.

My heart sinks a little at the thought. I feel like I know this person, like we’ve known each other for three years now. They know the things the whole internet knows about me, and I, along with my regular watchers, know their stories. That’s by no means enough, now that I think about it.

My next action is really out of character for me. I decide to reach out to them. My fingers fly over the buttons on my keyboard too fast for my rational side to try and stop them. Deep down, I know I’m doing the rightest wrong thing I’ve ever done. My previously sunk heart is now in its assigned spot again, beating quickly.

You don’t know what you’re doing

I maybe don’t, but knowing isn’t what’s important right now. I just wanna do it.

~ Hey, this is probably, what, your twentieth story so far. I’m just curious, how many of these are made up? By the way, your stories are amazing and I’ll probably keep narrating them even if they aren’t real. They’re just that good.

I send the email before I can talk myself out of it. I get up from my chair immediately afterwards, putting as much distance between me and the computer as possible, silently promising myself I won’t be checking my mail every five minutes.

Y/N’s POV

I anxiously refresh and refresh my email inbox, waiting for the dreaded email back from my professor. Being halfway through the college experience, I know how tough this professor’s class is and how much I suck at it. I sent him my completed assignment last night, barely making the deadline mind you, so now I’m sweating hardcore, staring my computer screen down.

After refreshing for the millionth time, I’m met with a new email which makes my heart stop for a second or two, my stomach dropping. Then I take the time to read the sender’s name, the subject and the first sentence of the email, and all the previous changes in me reverse. My heartbeat picks up speed, going faster than a galloping horse and my stomach turns, making me feel the sensation everyone calls ‘butterflies’.

Nah, man. This shit ain’t real. It can’t be.

But then again, what if it is. What if I’m about to full-on ignore my favorite youtuber because of my paranoia. Well, it’s not exactly unsupported. My life has been a shit show of unfortunate event and situations I’ve literally had to claw my way out of in order to stay alive. Now, when something of the sort happens, it’s just another weekday. However, I still wanna share these encounters. Not only because they are proof of the dangers girls have to deal with on a daily basis, but they also get narrated by one of my favorite people ever. What more can a girl ask for?

~ Listen, I’m really not looking forward to getting catfished. Please leave me alone

It’s short, not sweet, and to the point. It’s easy to understand, and it clearly states that I’m not falling for it if it’s a scam, but if it’s real....someone call 911 cause I think I’ll faint.

~ I get it, you have trust issues. But that’s understandable. From the creepy guy messaging you on all your social media. To the stalker you had from you high school, or even that teacher that turned out to not be a teacher at all and just a pedo, I see where the lack of trust is coming from. But I assure you, they only thing I wanna do is chat.

The shock and happiness overwhelm me when the reply arrives not even ten minutes later. 

Holy shit, this is him.

I start typing and then erase the typed half-sentence at least three times before receiving another email from him. From Corpse Husband. Corpse freaking Husband. How the fuck am I supposed to compose myself enough to reply to him, let alone sound cool and leave a good impression.

My hand shakes as I click the newly received email.

~ You probably don’t know what to say. Either that or you just don’t wanna talk to me. If you’re just baffled and surprised, reply with your name. If you want me to fuck off, ignore this email completely.

The smile I didn’t realize was there grows into a grin as small bursts of laughter escape me. Laughter caused by disbelief and shock. The type of laugh you let out when you score a good mark on the test you thought you completely fucked up.

~ Y/N. My name’s Y/N. 

PS: The stories are all 100% real. All happened. In the order I sent them too. And before you ask, I guess I’m just unlucky, but you are proving me wrong right now.

I don’t know where that confidence at the end came from, but I don’t care really. All that matters is that this might just actually be happening and it might be the best thing to ever happen to me.

~ Man, you’ve had it rough. Tell me, is there an easier way to access you than email. Like Insta DMs? I feel we have a lot to talk about and email is not the most convenient.

At this point, it feel so much like a fever dream that I decide to treat it as though it is. I just go with the flow.

~ Yeah, but first.....am I really not being catfished right now?

The email I receive as a reply to this message is empty of text but there’s a file attached. Not gonna lie, I am a bit hesitant to open it, but I decide that if this turns bad, I’ll just have to deal with it. In the meantime, I’ll believe it’s not a scam.

It’s an audio file: “No, Y/N, you are not being catfished.”

That voice. That god damn voice. It could convince me of anything. 

And now it’s convinced me into believing him. And finally letting out that squeal I was holding back before sending him my Instagram username.

[wellimaginethat]

Stitches: Part One

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x Sister!Reader

Requested?: Yes

Word Count: 3099

Author’s Note: This idea was super cute and I loved it, wish I could have gotten it written sooner for the lovely requester but stupid writers block hit. I decided I am going to make this into two parts

Trigger Warning(s): Hospital, needles, panic attack, injury, needing stitches, being bullied, physical assault

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: Y/N Rhodes is the younger sister of Connor, she’s been being picked on at school and it escalates to where she needs stitches and ends up in the ED, where she has a panic attack due to a fear of needles and hospitals, so Connor shows up to save the day.

Chicago Med Tags: @bethii1, @drakelover78, @lorenakaspersen​ (want to be tagged? message me!)

Y/N = Your Name

High school is rough, especially when you’re being bullied. But you tried to shrug it off and ignore it, but that just seemed to make it worse, so you tried talking to the teachers and the principal and that is how you landed in the ED.

You were brought in by the ambulance because you were pushed down a flight of concrete steps, luckily you didn’t get hurt too badly but the school called the ambulance regardless.

You absolutely hated hospitals, or rather you were terrified of them. You didn’t really have a reason for being afraid of hospitals, but they freaked you out. Everything about hospitals freaked you out. The doctors, the nurses, needles, the noises. Everything. And given that you were already upset over what happened, it just made it all worse.

When they wheeled you in, you heard the paramedic talking to a nurse.

“Sixteen year old female, pushed down a flight of concrete steps outside the high school, has a massive gash on her forehead and possibly some broken ribs.”

When they got you into the room, the nurse the paramedic had been talking to and a red headed doctor walked in.

“Hi my name’s Dr. Halstead, can you tell me your name?” The doctor asked

“Y/N Rhodes.” You managed to get out, your eyes were darting around and you looked uneasy.

The nurse looked at the doctor before looking at you. “You’re Connor’s little sister, aren’t you?” You nodded silently, feeling almost like a little kid. Dr. Halstead peaked out of the room and you heard him call your brother to your room.

The minute Connor walked in his face fell and he rushed to your side, checking you over and especially taking a look at the gash on your head. “God, Y/N, what happened?” He asked you in an incredibly worried tone, looking at you with an almost scared look in his eyes.

“Jake pushed me down the stairs at school.” You told him weakly, scared and sad. “He was mad because I told the principal about him.”

Connor nodded before looking at Dr. Halstead and nodding for him to head out of the room so they could talk.

The nurse approached you then with a soft smile. “My name is Maggie, how about I get an IV hooked up to get you some pain meds to help?” She asked you in a soft voice, noticing how scared you seemed.

“A-an IV? Doesn’t that involve a needle?” You asked, stuttering a bit. You shook your head violently, causing yourself to see stars, when she nodded. “No...no needles.” Maggie seemed hesitant but nodded a bit. “Alright, how about we wait on that until your brother gets back? Maybe he can ease your worries?”

You nodded a bit and watched as Maggie also stepped out of the room.

“I’ll talk to Goodwin about it, see if she’ll allow it this one time.” Connor told Will as they talked about five feet from your room, you couldn’t hear them but could see that Connor was discussing something with your doctor and it made you curious.

“Talk to Goodwin about what?” Sharon walked up behind him after hearing her name, looking at Connor.

Connor took a breath, thinking how best to broach the subject to her to convince her. “My sister was hurt.” He started out. “And she’s scared of hospitals and doctors and pretty much everything involving medicine.”

“I sense I know where this is going.” Sharon stated but waited for him to continue.

“Let me treat her.” Connor stated.

Will crossed his arms, waiting for Goodwin to tell him no.

Before Sharon had the chance, Connor spoke again. “She’s absolutely terrified and I’m afraid if someone else treats her it will cause her to have a panic attack.”

“And you think if you treat her you can avoid this?” Sharon asked him, skeptically.

Connor slowly nodded, a bit hesitant. “I believe so, yes. I know it goes against the code of ethics-”

Sharon cut him off, glancing over into your room and seeing how frightened you seemed before looking back at your brother. “I will make an exception.” She told him. “Due to the circumstances, I feel it’s in the patient’s best interest.”

Connor was beyond grateful and relieved. “Thank you.” He told her before heading back to your room. “Hey.” He said softly, moving over to take another look at the gash on your head. “So it looks like you’re gonna need stitches, okay?” Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No no no no…” You started to panic.

Connor gently placed his hands on your shoulders. “Hey there, look at me.” He said softly, waiting until you looked at him. “It’s going to be okay, alright? I’m gonna take care of you and it’s all going to be okay.” He said softly.

You nodded silently but your eyes were still full of fear.

“Now Maggie is going to give you an IV, I want you to focus on me while she does that.” Connor said softly as Maggie took your arm in her gloves hands. “Just focus on me.”

You kept your eyes on him and winced when you felt the plastic tighten around your bicep, trying to brace yourself for the needle.

“Just keep focusing on me.” Connor said softly.

You squeaked when you felt the needle pierce the skin in the crook of your elbow but you managed to not panic or black out, which was an amazing feat.

“You did good.” Connor said softly, standing to get what he needed. “Now I’m going to have to give you a shot to numb the area so I can stitch up the gash, okay?”

“Wait!” You said quickly, stopping him before he had a chance to even get the syringe ready. When he looked at you, you met his eyes. “Just give me a second to prepare myself.” You said quietly, still trying to work through the emotions of getting the IV.

Connor nodded and set the syringe down on the sterilized tray, waiting until you were ready.

You took a couple of deep breaths before you nodded. “Okay...I think I’m ready.” You told him and he picked the syringe up.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” Maggie offered softly, holding her hand out to you.

You smiled weakly and nodded, taking her hand as you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself.

It went a lot better than you or Connor was expecting, soon enough the area surrounding the gash was numb and Connor was able to start stitching it up. Luckily, if the gash left a scar it was along your hairline so it would be less noticeable, and you’d be able to hide it with your hair.

“Alright, almost done.” Connor said as he did the last stitch and tied it, cutting off the excess and setting it off to the side before taking a seat. “Now, tell me again what happened.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. “Jake’s been bullying me for a while now, but it just keeps getting worse. After he beat me up yesterday, I told the principal and then today he attacked me again and pushed me down the steps outside of school when I was trying to leave.” You explained, looking at your hands. “It just keeps getting worse.”

“Sounds like maybe we should inform the cops.” Maggie remarked softly.

“Why? They probably won’t do anything.” You were convinced that you’d just have to deal with it.

“What he did today qualifies as assault.” Connor told you gently, agreeing with Maggie and nodding to her.

She disappeared out of the room, probably heading to call the police.

“It’ll just make it worse!” You exclaimed, worried, wanting Maggie to stop before she got the cops involved.

Connor hushed you gently, moving to sit on the bed beside you. “It’s not going to get worse.”

“You don’t know that!” You insisted, trying feebly to push him away when he carefully pulled you into a hug.

“I do know that, because I’m your big brother.” Connor told you. “And big brothers are supposed to protect their little sisters. I’m sorry I didn’t know what was going on before otherwise I would have done something a lot sooner.”

You sniffled. “What if the cops don’t do anything?” “Well then I guess I’ll just have to have a talk with Jake’s parents.” Connor replied.

“His parents can’t do anything, he’s eighteen.” You replied quietly, leaning into the hug more as exhaustion took over you. You just wanted to go home and pretend nothing happened.

“Well that means he’s an adult and the cops should do something considering he attacked a minor.” Connor told you, trying to ease your worries. He glanced out of the room and noticed your dad was standing at the nurse’s station. “I’ll be right back.” He told you softly, kissing the top of your head before pulling away from the hug slowly.

“I want to know where my daughter is.” Cornelius demanded of the nurse.

“I just need a name, sir.” The nurse tried to tell him in a polite voice.

“I’ve got this, Doris.” Connor told her, gaining the attention of his dad. He wasn’t thrilled to see him, but the two had an unspoken agreement that they would play nice whenever you were around. “She’s in here.” Connor motioned to where you were, leading your dad in.

“Dad.” You were honestly happy to see him, even though he was a pretty absent father, you still adored him and you were kind of his pride and joy for now, favoring you over your two older siblings.

Cornelius walked over. “What on earth happened?” “A boy attacked her at school.” Connor told him, crossing his arms. “Did you know she was being bullied?”

“Bullied?” Cornelius looked at Connor and back to you before looking back at your brother. “I had no idea.” Connor scoffed. “Figures.” He muttered under his breath, looking out of the room and taking his attention off you and your father as he watched for the police to arrive.

After your brother’s dramatic exit, you and your father both fell silent. You were keenly aware of the fact that your father favored you compared to your siblings, and that he and Connor had an especially strained relationship for some reason. Neither of them ever put you in the middle of it and they always attempted to play nice in your presence, keyword being attempted. As a child, you weren’t aware of the fact that they had issues, but now that you were getting older it was rather hard to ignore, especially in tense situations like this.

You could hear different sounds coming from different rooms in the ED and it made you uncomfortable, causing you to shift on the bed.

“Are you alright?” Your father looked at you with concern in his eyes.

You nodded silently at first. “Yeah. I’m fine.” You finally managed to reply in a quiet voice. “I just really don’t like hospitals.”

“Well after you’re released we’ll take you home and you can rest in the comfort of your own bed.”

You smiled tiredly at him and nodded. “Sounds good.”

It was a while longer before the cops finally showed up to ask you some questions, and that was when Connor finally came back into your room.

“Miss. Rhodes, can you tell us what happened?” A female cop asked you in a polite tone, like the kind adults use with children who seem upset.

You shifted on the bed again. “There’s this kid I go to school with and he’s been bullying me for a while now.” You told her, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear nervously. “It’s been getting worse and worse and today he pushed me down the front steps at school.”

The female cop wrote what you said down, nodding as she did so. “And what did you say his name was?”

You pulled your lip in between your teeth, chewing on it nervously.

Connor walked over to you and gently touched your arm to comfort you.

“Jake. Jacob Smith.” You corrected yourself, taking a deep breath. 

“And how long has this been going on?”

You thought about the question, trying to pinpoint just when Jake started bullying you. “About a year or so. It started when I was a freshman and just continued on. I think it was my second semester as a freshman.”

The cop nodded and was about to speak before your dad interrupted.

“We want to press charges.” He insisted.

You shrunk down a bit in your seat, knowing how your father could treat people, already embarrassed.

“We understand, Mr. Rhodes, but we do need to conduct an investigation into this first.”

“An investigation? Look at my daughter, she’s in the hospital for Christ’s sake! She’s traumatized!” He did have a point, but you knew the cops were just trying to do their jobs.

That’s when the male cop spoke up. “We understand that you’re upset, sir, but we need you to calm down and let us do our job.”

That didn’t bode well with your father.

“Dad, please.” You begged quietly, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. “Just let the cops do their job.”

Cornelius had a hard time saying no to you, given that you were the baby of the family and his favorite child, so he slowly backed down and took his seat at your bedside again.

“I hate to say it, but our dad has a point.” You brother spoke up, thankfully much calmer than your father. “She was attacked by this boy and it did cause her both physical and mental harm, so we would appreciate it if you could make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Both cops nodded to him. “We’ll talk to the witnesses, it was reported so we’re sure it will be a pretty open and shut case, but we do need to conduct an investigation.”

“We understand.” Connor told them, glancing over at his father before looking back at the cops. “Or at least I do.” He said in a lower voice as he walked out of the room with them.

It was a few minutes before Connor came back into the room.

“Thank you.” Your father told him tightly. “For agreeing with me instead of them.”

Connor didn’t respond, just shook his head a bit. He knew if he responded it would just lead to an argument and he didn’t want to put you through that.

“Can I go home?” You asked him quietly as he walked over to your side. “Please? I’m exhausted and I hate the hospital.”

Connor nodded. “I know you do.” He looked at your dad. “How about you come fill out the discharge papers so we can get her out of here?”

Cornelius nodded and stood up. “We’ll be right back.” He told you softly, touching your hand gently before following your brother out.

“You need to watch yourself around the cops.” Connor warned him once they were out of your earshot.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Connor turned to face him. “It means you need to be nice otherwise nothing will get done.”

Cornelius scoffed at that. “I know how to deal with people, Connor.”

“No you know how to push people around and buy them off.” Connor retorted, crossing his arms. “Just back off this time, let the cops do their jobs.”

Cornelius walked past him and to the nurse’s station. “I’d like you to discharge my daughter now. Y/N Rhodes.” As soon as the papers were signed, he went back to your room. “Alright, we’re good to go.” He gave you a smile.

You looked past him. “Where’s Connor? Isn’t he gonna come say goodbye?”

“He had to get back to work.” Your dad told you, but you could tell he was lying. Something happened and you knew it and it made you feel like your stomach was sinking into a black hole. You swallowed around the dry lump in your throat and nodded, trying to pretend you didn’t suspect anything. “Oh. Okay.” You could write the sadness off as not getting to say goodbye to your brother. You got up from the bed slowly.

“Do you need some help?”

You shook your head. “I’ve got it, thanks.” You waved him off as you grabbed your backpack from the floor before heading over to him. “I’m so ready to get home.” You breathed out, simply exhausted. “I just want to change into my pajamas and curl up in my bed.” You had plans to watch movies the rest of the afternoon.

Your dad nodded and walked out of the hospital with you, leading you over to his car.

Once you were home, you did exactly what you said you would, changed and curled up on your bed. You fished your phone out of your backpack before tossing it to the floor beside your bed. When you turned it on you saw you had a bunch of text messages from your friends asking if you were okay, you decided you’d respond to them in a bit, wanting to text your brother first. 

It took you a few minutes and a few erased attempts before you decided on what to say. Hey, I just wanted to let you know that we’re home. Sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye, dad said you had to get back to work. I love you, talk to you later. And with that you hit send before you began replying to all your friends.

The rest of the night you stayed in your room, texting your friends and watching movies. The housekeeper checked on you a few times, but you didn’t see or hear from your dad at all the rest of the night, which honestly wasn’t that unusual. You may be the favorite, but you were pretty sure he only remembered he had kids when it suited him or he was forced to remember.

Eventually, despite the fact that your head began to throb, you were able to fall asleep. The next morning you were rudely awakened by your alarm clock alerting you that it was time to wake up and get ready for school, which you immediately dreaded after remembering the events of the prior day. You got dressed before picking your phone up and checking it, only to see you got a text from your best friend informing you that Jake had gotten arrested.

Part Two Coming Soon...

[adam-banks2024]

Deja Vu

Part 1

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kind of angst for now, backstory, arguments, and extremely slow burn. Also future poly

He’s insufferable

He’s arrogant. He’s rude. He’s annoying.

He is insufferable.

And I have to deal with him.

Of all the people Mrs. Moore could have partnered me with, she just had to choose him. It’s not like we even put a show on in public, and it’s sad but, everybody knows about the feud between us that started four years ago. 

I had just moved to town from three states over, and I didn’t know anyone my age. After a few weeks of summer went by of not knowing anyone, my dad convinced me to join the district’s hockey team. He told me that it was because he wanted me to make some friends, but I knew that he really just couldn’t afford to pay a babysitter. And my mother, well, she wasn’t in the picture. So I ended up having to go through the lost and found at six different ice rinks in Minnesota in order to get all of my equipment. At first, I was wary of the idea, but my dad said that it was kind of like shopping, so I agreed to go with him. Originally, we would have only had to search five rinks, but I couldn’t find any skates that were my size. After almost twelve hours of rummaging through sweaty pads and broken sticks, I had myself a full set of hockey gear.

Now I was on to the next challenge: How To Skate. I had been ice skating a couple of times before for birthday parties, but I’ve never been able to skate at the level that I had to in order to survive during an entire hockey game. I thought maybe it would just come to me naturally after attending a few practices. Until I did some research at the school library. Apparently, it takes a person at least two months to learn how to ice skate. But ignoring the negative, I decided to focus on the positive. ‘I could at least balance myself...and besides, I probably would be on the bench for every game...and just remember, you’re doing this for friends.’ These were the only three things that ran through my mind on the way to the ice rink. I was honestly terrified. I was scared that the other kids would make fun of me, or worse, ignore me. Well, maybe being made fun of is worse, but at least then they’d acknowledge me. I had to stop myself from thinking about that kinda stuff. I haven’t even attended a single hockey practice yet, and now I’ve added at least four more stressors into my life.

When my dad pulled up to the building, my stomach was tingling. My hands were clammy, and my eyebags had definitely seen better days. I wanted to run so fast away from this place, and not move at all at the same time.

“Nerves,” my dad said. He must’ve noticed from my frozen state in the backseat of his minivan. “You’ll do great! Just don’t break any bones.” He chuckled at the end in hopes that it would come off as a joke, but that is definitely not how it sounded.

To my surprise, I was the first kid that had arrived. I didn’t know much about the team, but I did know that most of the other kids had been on it since they were five or six years old. I was almost the exact opposite, thirteen and just starting. I wasn’t really sure why I was the first person to arrive, and it only added to my nervousness. 

I tried to brush it off as I saw someone outside in the parking lot leave a car holding a bag like you had. I could hear his muffled voice. “I’ll see you at six.” Whoever he was talking to must have responded because the boy spoke again, “yup, love you too.” A parent maybe. A mom? I could faintly make out a silhouette in the driver’s seat, but the glare from the sun blocked most of the car window.

Thank god someone else was here because at least now I knew that I was in the right place. But another problem arose. Now, different things were rushing through my head about what to say to the other boy. Should I make a joke, ask a question? Simply say ‘hello’? I didn’t know. So, I decided to settle on the most stupid thing anyone could ever say. 

“Are you on the hockey team?” What kind of question is that? He has a bag, this time is cut out specifically for hickey practice, and he has a hockey stick with him. Why else would he be here?

He looked up from where he was walking and stared at me awkwardly. It was likely that he wouldn’t have even noticed me if I hadn’t said anything to him. But I did. Which I regretted.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He went to keep on walking but he stopped himself quickly. “Are you?”

I had to keep a laugh in because the boy looked genuinely confused. Or maybe I misjudged that for concern. Still, though, it sounded a bit hopeful. This kid was really hard to read. Either way, I was pretty sure that he thought I couldn’t play hockey.

“Yeah. My dad made me join to make some friends.” 

Suddenly the boy’s demeanor changed. He seemed almost excited that there was a new kid on the team. “Well, I’ll be your first friend. My name’s Adam. Adam Banks. Walk and talk.” And then he started towards two big double doors.

My eyebrows rose at the sudden confidence, taken off guard, but at least he was being friendly. I adjusted your bags and followed right behind him. “So what’s it like here.”

He answered after struggling to open one of the doors, “Well it’s not so bad. It’s super cutthroat during the regular season but in the offseason, it’s pretty relaxed.” As I made myself around the outside of the rink, he kept rambling. “Especially during summer league. The kids who only play during that league have it nice. You’ll definitely survive.”

“Um, so what happens during the regular season?” The thought of angry yelling coaches wasn’t appealing to me, but I could make it work

Adam shrugged his bag up so it wouldn’t fall from his shoulder, “Well. Usually, coach yells at us, tells us that if we don’t win we’re failures, and everyone is constantly fighting to be a starter.” There was silence. “So that’s fun.” I just nodded my head, trying to take this all in. Adam didn’t say anything until he reached the locker room doors. Then he turned to me. “Yeah, but coach is a lot less lenient during summer because it doesn’t really matter for playoffs.”

I scoffed, “yeah, but I’ll eventually have to deal with him. Right?”

Adam’s expression flattened, “Wait, you’re doing winter league too?” He looked genuinely concerned, and now I was second-guessing joining hockey. If this boy didn’t think I could survive, then how could I? Even if I was just gonna sit on the bench, the way this kid was making it out to be was not sounding like the greatest way to make friends.

“Well, yeah. Is that bad?” I needed to hear him say it. Say that I should quit, or join dance, or something. Just so I could have an excuse to tell my dad in case the first day of practice goes awry.

He spoke fast, “Oh no, no. It’s just that--” 

“That I’m not good enough…”

He didn’t say anything. Harsh. I was just trying to make a joke but, I guess that’s what he was really thinking. We stood in silence for a few more seconds, and then he finally thought of something to respond with.

“No. I just feel like you’ll get hurt… and, um.”

I started to laugh. I applaud Adam for trying to make it seem like he didn’t think I was bad, but he just couldn’t do it. “Don’t sweat it, I know I’m gonna be bad.” He started to laugh with me. “Hey, at least I’ll get abs out of it.” 

He and I were actually pretty good friends for the most part. He was my first friend here in Minnesota. He taught me how to skate, and in turn, I offered him some sub-par jokes. He always used to laugh at my jokes even if they were awful. He was what I considered my best friend. He definitely wasn’t a best friend, I couldn’t confide in all of my secrets, and he couldn’t do the same to me, but Adam was the only kid I was friends with. We laughed hard, we fell on the ice together. He even told his mom that practices started to end later just so he could wait with me until my dad got off work and picked me up. 

Not long after we bonded, I hato the ducks. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what happened. All my dad said to me was something about how the coach wasn’t that nice, and that he didn’t want me on his team. I didn’t really care since hockey wasn’t something that I cared about too much. So I said goodbye to Adam and explained that I had to go. I didn’t say anything about the coach-not-liking-me part because then I thought he’d feel bad for me.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to switch teams too, but I think my dads’ gonna see if I can stay on the team.” He spoke almost as if he was trying to convince himself. I thought it was a great idea to tell him why he had to go to the ducks.

“They don’t want you, Adam. Maybe if you go to the ducks, you’ll get a coach who appreciates you.” I didn’t know what was wrong with what I said to him until about a year later, but by the time I finished my sentence, he was fuming.

The situation afterward was a blur, and I can’t remember what all was said. I just remember Adam touching on the fact how I’m an awful hockey player, and that he only talked to me because he felt sorry for me. Now, if my old coach had told me that I was awful at hockey, I’d be completely fine. I already knew that, and coach is just...coach. But hearing it come from Adam? It wasn’t like he was just telling me how it is, he wanted to hurt me.

It took me two weeks to stop thinking about the situation constantly, and then it started to fade away. I never even told him the real reason why I told him what I did, but now I have to work on a history project with him. How am I gonna do that if I can’t even tell him the reason for our quarrel that we had three years ago? Let alone complete a whole project?

“The syllabus will be given tomorrow, and the deadline for this project will be written under the ‘AP History’ bulletin. You may get to work.”

I slumped out of my desk and started putting away my things that were on the table attachment. During this, I tried to think of what I was going to say when I went over to him. I almost decided on either trying to make a truce or just acting like he didn’t exist.

He was slouched in his desk, pencil in hand, avoiding eye contact with me. As I sat down my stuff on an empty desk near him, his words startled me. “So, 50/50?”

I just stared at him. For some reason, my brain could not process what Adam had just said. It took a solid four seconds for me to respond. “I don’t understand.”

Adam’s eyebrows rose while his eyes rolled, “Of course you don’t.”

I scoffed, “What, you’re just gonna say some numbers and you think I’m gonna understand what you’re trying to say?”

He was leaning forward in his desk now, “Well you seemed to be doing well in calculus, so, yes.” A small, mocking smile was now gracing his face. 

I took in a deep breath to try and refrain from spewing whatever profanities came to mind. “Look, can we just set aside whatever this is so we can do this project?” He crossed his arms in response. “C’mon, I can’t afford to get a bad grade.” Still no response. If his goal was to ruin my life, he sure was on the right path. 

“What do I get out of it?”

The audacity.

“I’m just saying. I’ll be fine with one bad grade, so what exactly is the payoff for tolerating...you?”

So there was a shiny glimmer of hope, but it would definitely come at a cost. “Anything. Anything you want. Just please, tolerate me.”

He brought a hand to his chin, acting like he was pondering his choice, “but will it really be anything?”

“Oh my god, you are so annoying.”

“Watch it.” His voice was stern.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. But yes, anything. You name it.”

Did he even know what he wanted? Or was he just trying to play this out? Either way, I’m about to have a conniption if we don’t start working on this project soon.

We sat in silence for what felt like forever. Of course, Adam had to change his thinking position almost every second, until he decided on what he wanted. “Okay, here’s the deal. I help you get your precious little A, and you have to get me a date with Charlie.”

[kaimelia]

enough for you (ch 10)

She rolled over in bed, pressing the pillow down with her hand and glancing at the empty space beside her. An empty space she had become used to seeing over the past weeks, but not in the bed they shared.

02:46 AM

Amelia groaned, and before she knew it, her feet were on the ground, and she had pulled her cardigan around her body tightly as she tiptoed into the kitchen.

Link was asleep on the couch with the blanket pulled over his body, light snores coming from his mouth. She'd gotten used to his snoring over time, even though he denied it ever happened, and it eventually became an odd source of comfort.

She opened the cabinet and pulled out a glass, doing her best to be quiet as she filled the glass at the sink with water and took a sip.

"What're you doing up?" She turned around to see Link standing beside the couch.

"I couldn't fall back asleep and wanted some water. Sorry," Amelia whispered, placing her glass on the counter and grilling the edge of it.

"It's fine."

"Do you want some water?" Link shrugged and threw the blanket off of his body, slowly walking over and taking a seat at the kitchen island. She slid a glass towards him anyway.

"Did Scout wake up? I didn't hear him," Link muttered as he took a sip.

"No, I just woke up." He raised his eyebrows.

"Bad dream?"

"Sort of. Also, the storm isn't the most pleasant thing ever," she glanced out the window as lightning struck outside. "I'm surprised Scout hasn't woken up."

"You remember when he was learning to walk, and it was thundering outside, and he got super freaked out and just collapsed to the ground?" Amelia laughed at the memory and bit the inside of her cheek. She turned back to Link, who was smiling.

"The other weekend, it was raining, and Ellis left her doll outside. So, she went to grab it, but naturally, everyone else had to follow her, and I came outside to four children just dancing around in the rain. It was a mess afterward; they were all drenched, and their shoes are still caked in mud, but it always makes me happy to see Scout playing with them. Even if he has no idea what's going on." Link hummed softly before silence settled between them. Amelia drummed her fingers against the counter and drifted her eyes between Link and the window in the living room behind him.

"So, where do we go from here?" She bit her cheek and shrugged. "My parents set a date for their wedding. October 16th, and I have to send the RSVP card back. My mom said that it was just a formality because she knew it would be us three, but I didn't know what to tell her."

"You didn't tell them?"

"I haven't had much to tell them. If I do, I'll get a million questions that I don't know the answer to." He leaned forward. "Amelia, I don't wanna pressure you into moving quicker than you're ready for. Believe me, I already screwed up once with ignoring your feelings, and I've told myself I'm never going to do that again. But, I also need to know what's going to happen. I want to work this out, and if you don't want to, then I deserve to know."

"So you can go off and screw other women?" Link sighed and placed his head in his hands.

"Not like that, Amelia, you know what I mean."

"No, I don't think I do, actually."

"I don't wanna fight for a relationship that you're not in. If you've decided that we're done, that I'm an ignorant asshole because honestly, I was, then please just tell me."

"I wanna be in it, I do; I just don't know if I can." Her voice shook slightly as she spoke, and Amelia looked away. "What we have-or had, it was the thing that you always hope to have, the thing you eventually convince yourself doesn't exist because it seems too perfect, but we had that. And those first few months with Scout, I mean, it was insanely stressful and objectively one of the worse times in my life, but I always had you. I knew that I would wake up next to you every day, and I could always find you when I needed a moment to breathe because you became my person. It was stable, and I needed that. But then it got bad, and I started feeling myself slip, and I'm terrified it'll happen again." Link nodded firmly and pursed his lips. "And that's not something you can promise won't happen. We don't know what the future has in store; we don't know if we'll be able to take it or if the world will come crashing down around us," she whispered, wrapping her hands around her glass and bringing it up to her mouth. "Everything is so uncertain, and I need to be able to have myself through all of it."

"Are you willing to try? Because you're right. I can't promise that it won't happen again, but I can promise that I will do everything I can to do better." He clasped his hands together silently, resting his elbows on the counter. "I don't like to talk about the bad things; you know that, but you have to be willing to compromise in a relationship. I can do a better job of checking in on you and making sure that I'm aware of how you're feeling."

"You need to know that when things get bad for me, I go silent. I stop talking and being open like I normally would, and I shut people out."

"And I think that's why things went so wrong. I go silent when anything happens, so I didn't think anything was wrong because that's normal for me." He shrugged. "Maybe we won't ever be able to get back to where we were a year ago, or maybe things won't work. But, you have your therapist who can help you with issues I'm not able to. And you have me, who wants nothing more than to know that you're okay and to be with you, no matter what that looks like."

"I don't want to get married," Amelia blurted, immediately covering her mouth with her hand. "Sorry. I've needed to say that for a while; I just need you to know that. I don't want to get married; I don't want to have another kid. I just want to be us."

"You don't want to get married, like ever? Or now?" She shrugged gently.

"Definitely not now. I don't know if I'll ever want to. But if we're going to try and fix things, you can't expect that from me. I mean, you can check-in and everything, because sure, maybe I will change my mind one day. But no proposing, no foster kids, no new baby talk or anything of the likes because if I hear you talking about how much you want those things? I'll feel guilty, and I don't know exactly how that will affect me, but it won't be good."

"What about what I want?"

"We're allowed to want different things. But something as big as bringing another child into this world? We can't do that unless we both want it. Link, what we had before all of this, it was good, and I just want to get back to that and stay there. We'll figure things out as they come."

"You promise to consider the things that I want as well? Obviously, if it's something you don't feel you can do, that's different, but I don't want to be shut out of decisions in our relationship."

"I promise. We'll just take it slow and just figure things out," she murmured, rolling the empty glass between her hands. "Figure it out together." He smiled at her.

"Where do we start?"

"I think you're supposed to take me to dinner."

[mobagehelllocal]

“do you even lift bro?” ver iii - leech twins, jamil, epel, rook and lilia

Your headcanons for the fem reader bridal carrying the guys were GOLD! Can I request the same for Lilia, Jade, Floyd, Jamil, Divus, Epel and Rook? Thank you! -- from @shenanigansposts

A/N: It’s here! It’s back! It’s “do you even lift bro?”! Honestly, I’m still stunned at the response this series gets xD anyways. I’m sorry I’ve gotten slower on updates, but I don’t want to write with any negativity in my heart. I want to enjoy writing, because otherwise I know my pieces will show that. Creative works truly reflect the mood of the writer, so I try to always be in my happy place when I write so that these can be fun! ^^ 

Please do enjoy!

other versions: ver i (dorm leaders), ver ii (dire, divus, ashton), ver iii (this)

--

Jade’s head jerked up as you rushed into the infirmary.

“Jade! Are you okay?” you scrambled over to him in worry.

“Hello flower.” he greeted, quite cheerful, despite the fact that his ankle was in a cast. “I’m quite well really.”

You shot a look at his ankle--before you turned to the school nurse. The school nurse gave you a patient smile as they explained what happened. 

“He didn’t break anything. He just twisted it from climbing that mountain today...” The nurse eyed your lover. “in search of mushrooms.”

“I was very successful.” Jade nodded sagely. “Mostro Lounge’s menu will be full with them. Flower, I insist you try them.” You tried to give him a stern look, but his genuine appreciation for mushrooms (of all things! mushrooms!) caused your lips twitch up into a smile.

“So does this mean he doesn’t need to stay in the infirmary?” 

“He doesn’t.” the nurse confirmed. “Unfortunately we currently don’t have any crutches, and Mr. Leech is adamant about not flying--if you could call his brother perhaps? Or Mr. Ashengrotto.” the nurse suggested.

“It’s fine, I can handle it.” you waved a dismissive hand. The nurse arched a brow, and Jade shot you a curious glance--mind finally off mushrooms. 

“Just... make sure he doesn’t put any pressure on his foot.” The nurse said, “we’ll be sending crutches over to his dorm by tonight... or tomorrow afternoon at the latest. I can write you a slip that will allow you to skip some of your morning classes.”

The nurse quickly filled up a form, and you stopped in front of Jade. Your boyfriend eyed you in interest.

“How are you planning on helping me, flower? Floyd or Azul...” 

“It’s fine.” you said dismissively again. “I’ll show you in a bit.” The nurse handed you the note, and you easily leaned forward, and slipped it into Jade’s pocket. (”Don’t lose that!” “Yes, madam~” he had chuckled, and you flushed.) You huffed, and before he could even blink--you easily pulled him up into your arms bridal style. Jade’s eyes widened, and the nurse shrieked in surprise.

“Wait! Put him down!” the nurse squeaked.

“Oh it’s fine. Jade’s actually pretty light.” you shrugged, and with a glance the nurse did notice that you showed no signs of strain. 

“If you’re sure.” the nurse said, flustered.

“Yup. Thank you so much!” you shot the nurse a smile. The nurse went to open the door for you as you left the infirmary with a baffled Jade in your arms.

You turned your head, to see an uncharacteristically surprised expression on Jade’s face. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was slightly agape.

“I didn’t break you, right?” you asked, and he finally blinked. 

“Aa. I just... did not expect you to be this strong, flower.” Jade finally said, his lips curled into a pleasant grin. “I had a general idea since you were always so willing to do the heavy lifting... Have you always been this strong?”

“Yeah.” you shrugged. “People often told me it was unattractive for a girl though. Said something about how it wasn’t cute.” you huffed. “I worried about it before but... I’m learning to accept it about myself.” 

Jade tilted his head, and he raised a hand to cup your cheek gently. His hand moved, and curled under your chin to make your eyes meet his own. 

“I think it’s very attractive.” you flushed, and Jade chuckled lowly. “Everyday I’ve been finding new things to love about you. This one is most definitely today’s ‘new thing’~” You could feel your face heat up even further.

“I--you’re unfair as ever Jade.” you sighed, and he shot you a pleased grin. 

“I’ll make it up with some mushroom risotto.” 

“You’ll have to tell me how to make it. I can’t make you cook in this state.” 

“I injured my ankle, not my hands.” Jade raised a fine brow.

“Yeah but... Let me pamper you.” your voice grew quiet. “Let me do it this time.” Jade laughed gently.

“Very well, milady.” 

-

“WAHAHAHAH! JADE! PFFFT!” 

“What happened Jade--wait, Floyd! Don’t jump--” 

CRASH.

--

“[Surname]!” you flinched, and turned around. You blinked in surprise as you see Professor Crewel stride up to you whilst he gritted his teeth. 

“What did you do?” Ace whispered. You furrowed your brow and shrugged your shoulders. Nothing came to mind.

“Puppy, you get along with Mr. Floyd Leech, do you not?” 

“I mean... Yeah?” you tilted your head, unsure where this was going.

“Good.” he exhaled. “Get him out of my classroom.” 

“Huh?”

-

“Floyd... please...” 

“Don’t wanna.” His voice was muffled because he had buried his face into his arms. He was seated in the center of the room, curled up. Crewel had pointed at him accusingly, then pointedly at you, before he turned away with a huff.

“Get him out of there before the next class, little puppy... or else...” he had twirled his baton in hand, and uninterested in experiencing whatever Crewel had in mind, you had chosen to speak to Floyd.

“Come on Floyd, please? Let’s go back to your dorm. You could just... sul--rest on your bed instead.” you tried to be gentle as you pulled on the much taller boy’s sleeve.

“You’ll hafta carry me out.” he said--stubborn as ever when he was in one of his moods. Since he couldn’t see your face, you exaggerated your eye roll.

“Fine.” 

Floyd twitched in interest, and shifted his head just a fraction to see you draw close. With surprising strength, you yanked him upright, then swooped him up into your arms--bridal style.

It look a second for what was going on to register in Floyd’s mind, but when it did, he began to flop in your arms. It felt a lot like holding an incredibly huge, and slippery... well... eel? You snickered at your own thought as you tightened your hold on Floyd’s body.

“SHRIMPY!” he wrapped his arms around your neck in excitement, “Shrimpy! You’re carrying me! Look! You’re carrying me!”

“Floyd... I know... I am carrying you.” you said, amused, “don’t move too much because if you accidentally hit me, I’m going to drop you.” At that he calmed down. However, he did not stop his cheerful hum, as he swung his legs in the air. 

You couldn’t help but think how adorable Floyd was in your arms. 

And you were also very pleased that you had easily cheered him up with carrying him like this. 

(You couldn’t say the same for most of the Night Raven College students though.

Floyd, as himself was dangerous enough. 

Floyd, when defending you? He was even worse.

Now they find out that the person everyone assumed was Floyd’s weakness was actually insanely strong enough to bridal carry a 191 centimetre tall menace?

‘Monsters, both of them.’ was the terrified thought of every single NRC student who pressed themselves up against the walls at the sight of you strutting about with Floyd in your arms, barely winded.)

“Shrimpy...” he looked at you with glowing eyes--and your heart felt at ease as you see that Floyd was no longer feeling upset. “How are you carrying me?”

“I’ve always been strong.” you shrugged. 

“You never told me though.” Floyd looked like he wilted at the thought and you couldn’t help but rush to assure him.

“It’s sort of like... when you had to explain magic to me. It’s difficult to explain something you’ve always known you had.” Floyd tilted his head at your response, eyes glimmered briefly in understanding. Floyd had always been smarter than people gave him credit for.

“So, how much more do you think you can carry?” 

“Well I don’t know about that but I can...” you told him how much you were able to lug around back in your world, and a mischievous glow entered Floyd’s eyes.

“I’m not entertaining it.”

“Awww, but shrimpy! It will be worth it!” he pouted, and heart struck by how adorable he looked, you sighed.

“Alright, I’ll hear you out.” 

“Hey, do you think you could carry Jade and I on either of your shoulders?” You paused, and looked at him in a contemplative manner.

-

“What in Atlantis, are you doing?” Azul’s shriek pierced the air. 

“Oh... oh my.” 

“Wahaha! Shrimpy quick! Pick up Azul too!” 

--

Just as you were about to call out to Jamil, you noticed that his movements weren’t as smooth as it usually was--nor did they have Jamil’s typical grace. You frowned at that.

Jamil had the habit of overworking himself. 

You were worried that he had done so--again.

-

Jamil raised a hand to his head, and sighed. His head pounded--a reminder that he hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night. 

He was lucky that he had enough control of himself that none of the teachers noticed the way his attention slipped. 

No one ever noticed.

Jamil had done his job well--he was ‘normal’ enough in the eyes of his professors and peers that his slightest missteps, and delayed answers were just a part of his ‘regular’ behavior. 

‘I’ll have to convince Kalim to sleep earlier tonight if I want to perform at my one-hundred percent best tomorrow.’ he raised a hand to his temple, and massaged it. His eyes fluttered close as he pressed his knuckles against his forehead--alleviating the irritating feeling even for a little while. 

“--are you okay?”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of your voice, and he instinctively gave you a small smile.

“Ah, [Name].” he nodded his head, “just a slight headache really.” 

“It doesn’t look like a slight headache.” you peered at him thoughtfully. He gazed back at you, confused--did you--?

“Alright, I’m taking you to the infirmary.” you suddenly decided, and Jamil’s eyebrows raised in response. 

“You--I’m fine, [Name].” he let out a soft chuckle. “There’s no need to worry.”

“You aren’t walking like you normally do.” he froze at your observation. “And you keep touching your head too.” you bit your lip, and the worry on your expression made Jamil’s heart skip a beat. “I’m worried Jamil.” 

You--you noticed.

You--you paid attention... to him. 

“You... noticed?” In his surprise, those words slipped out of Jamil’s mouth. You looked at him, and frowned.

“Of course I did--I.. I’m always looking out for you. Now let me take you to the infirmary.” You said firmly. Jamil stared at you--a little dazed, he’s not sure if it’s because he was genuinely not feeling well--or if he was stunned that you had chosen to look out for how he felt.

His feelings had always been second, if not disregarded so--

To know that you were concerned about how he felt... 

It felt...

It felt... good.

When you pulled him into a bridal carry, it pulled him out of his stupor, and he flinched in your arms.

“What the... why are... how are you carrying me?” Jamil--speechless--now wasn’t that a sight to see? He always seemed so prepared, calm, and ready for anything Kalim threw his way. Yet for once, you’ve surprised him--so much so that he showed you such an unguarded expression. Eyes wide, and mouth hung open. You couldn’t help but giggle at it. 

“I’m carrying you because if I don’t physically take you to the infirmary, you won’t go.” you paused, “and I can carry you because I’m just that strong.” 

“That is...” his dazed expression sharpened, “please put me down. I can take care of myself.” 

“No way Jamil, you’re terrible at caring for yourself.” you huffed in response, “so as your girlfriend, it’s my job to carry for you.” He twitched, one of his hands instinctively grabbed for his hood--you could see the slightest red on his cheeks, and that’s enough for you to grin goofily. 

“You always take care of us, Jamil.” you added, “let me take care of you for once.” His flush darkened, and he did his best to hide his face--but unfortunately for him--well, he was in your arms. 

You had a perfect view of his true feelings. 

“Sorcerer...” he cursed softly in embarrassment. 

You had a way with pushing past his defenses with that adorable expression of yours.

“Fine.” he said, grudgingly. “but Kalim better not see... this.” 

“I’ll do my best.” you said, as solemn as possible, despite the wide grin that grew on your face. Jamil pulled up his hood and turned away from your face (as much as possible while in your arms). You tightened your hold on him briefly.

You hoped he understood what you wanted to say--

That you cared about how he felt--and that you always would. 

-

There’s a dramatic gasp from somewhere behind you, and Jamil twitched.

“OH NO! JAMIL! WHAT HAPPENED!” 

Jamil sighed, and sagged in your arms.

“I’m unconscious.”

“Sure, love.” 

--

“Alright, since you all have a pretty good grasp on how to fly, you’re free to do what you want.” Professor Vargas grinned at the elated cheers of his students. “Just don’t get too close to the school or else Professor Trein will have my hide...” 

Epel peered at you.

“You can ride with me if you want.” he offered, but you shook your head.

“We haven’t tackled double riding yet.” you said, and you nervously looked down. “and I prefer my feet on the ground until then.” 

Because you didn’t have magic, and you refused to trust Grim with a broom--you managed to convince Crowley to write Vargas that you weren’t allowed to participate in Flying classes.

That didn’t stop Grim from attempting chaos with Ace and Deuce though.

“If you’re sure.” Epel frowned, “It’s very fun [Name].”

“Yup, I’m sure. Maybe next time? I’ll cheer you on though.” 

That’s how Epel found himself high up in the sky. When he looked down, you immediately noticed and waved up at him enthusiastically. He gave a brief wave back, before he began to play around in the sky. He did quick, full loops that made him laugh in exhilaration. He played around, and tested to see if he could do some tricks from some videos he saw on the MagiCam...

On your end, you couldn’t help but just smile fondly at the way Epel laughed and enjoyed himself in the sky. You felt a little envious--who wouldn’t? While it was sad that you were the only one in the whole school who couldn’t do magic--it was another thing all together when you see Epel smile. 

His smile made all of your negative feelings melt away.

You could content yourself with watching him enjoy himself in the sky. 

‘If I told him he was cute, he would get furious with me.’ you sighed, but you smile anyways, ‘it’s still one of the things I adore about him.’ Your eyes wandered away from Epel as you saw a bunch of your other roughhousing with each other. 

‘Geez...’ You turned your head to Professor Vargas who wasn’t paying attention to the sky. “Professor Vargas.” 

“Hm?” he looked up, only to pale immediately. “Student falling!” You turned your head, and you expected to see the students messing with each other but--

It’s Epel!

You bolted upright. 

One second, Epel was doing tricks in the air--and in the next--he was promptly pushed off his broom. In his surprise, he didn’t even try to grasp at his broom. 

‘Ah, shit.’ 

Epel swore internally. 

“Epel!” He twisted his head in your direction and realized you were running toward him frantically. He panicked as you readied yourself to catch him.

“Wait [Name]--” 

With a hard thud--he fell right into your arms--and you only had to adjust your stance to ensure you wouldn’t fall to the ground as his weight settled in your arms. His eyes snapped open (when had he even closed them?) as he felt your arms wrap around his back and legs. 

“Gotcha.” you sighed in relief, while Epel stared at you--stunned.

“[Name]...” he looked at you with wide eyes, and an open mouth. You’re sure if Vil was here, he would get ticked off that Epel was using his face for such a terrible expression. “you--how’d you--” 

“Never mind that.” you exhaled. You fell to your knees as the adrenaline rush left you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Epel said, baffled. “I... since when were you so strong?” 

“I always was. I just... never really... thought to say anything?” you shrugged. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you looked at him, a little nervous. You knew how much Epel wanted to be taken seriously, and it was partly the reason why you didn’t want to tell him that you were insanely strong. 

“Well... I... that is... I was worried what you would think.” Epel studied your expression, before a warm smile spread on his lips.

“You know what I think?”

“What?” 

“We could train together!” when you looked up, you noticed that Epel had a particularly fired up expression on his face. 

“You’re not mad...?”

“No?” Epel tilted his head, “I’m happy! This means you could give me tips on how to be stronger! We can be strong together!” Epel smiled widely. You’re struck by how beautiful this boy was (thought let him never know you though that). 

“I... yes!” 

Epel gave you a sweet smile in response. 

You felt your heart warm at the tenderness in his expression--a sight he rarely showed anyone... anyone except you, of course. 

“Together alright?”

“Together!” 

--

"Mon amour, quick~ Catch me~” 

You immediately dropped the book, and prepared yourself.

In the next second--Rook landed in your arms. He turned to you with a pleased glow. 

“So you are strong enough to carry me~” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “Fascinating~” 

“Yeah... I guess so.” you looked at him, perplexed.

“So why the sudden jump into my arms?” 

“I just felt like it.” Rook hummed, as he tucked some of your hair behind your ear. 

“Oh well... can I let you go?” you asked, your eyes fell on the book that had toppled to the ground at Rook’s sudden attack. 

“Hm... no.” Rook’s lips curled up. 

“Fair enough.” you sighed. “If I bend down, do you think you could pick up the book and put it back up on the self then?”

“Oh? You think you could do that?” there’s an interested but knowing gleam in Rook’s eyes. Likely chance, he already knew that much about you--and was just waiting to see if his assumptions were correct.

“I can try.” you offered, as you began to bend slightly for him to grab the book. 

Most people found talking to Rook unnerving--primarily because there was always that certain... analytical look in his eyes. It would always feel as if he was studying you--trying to understand... all of you, really. 

“Come to think of it...” Rook turned to look at you, patient. “How’d you figure out that I could do this?” You moved your arms slightly. 

Rook only smiled in response. 

You stared back--halfway between amused and confused. 

“...”

“...”

“...?”

“....~” 

“Yeah okay fine.” you sighed, and his smug aura somehow intensified...? “I guess I don’t want to know.”

There were a lot of things you still didn’t know about Rook. 

Despite his... ah... love for learning(?) about other people--he was tight lipped about himself. Even to you.

“I’m glad we came to an agreement.” he patted your shoulder. When he moved to get out of your arms, your grip tightened and his eyes slid open to look at you.

Even if he was private about himself though...

You made it your personal mission to understand him--to learn more about him. 

“Ohohoh~ Mon amour~ What are you doing~?” 

“I think I’ll hold onto my boyfriend a little longer, you know~?” Your lips curled. “It’s time for me to learn about you.” 

“You can try.” Rook smirked back. 

That’s what he liked about you after all.

You didn’t think he was strange. You thought of his actions as a challenge to learn about him--just as he learnt about you.

--

“Hello [Name]~” 

You looked up to see that Lilia hung, suspended upside down in midair again. His headphones were on, he had his controllers in hand--and he seemed to be playing a first person magic shooter game. He floated lower, just so you could reach him--and give him a greeting kiss on the cheek. You turned to the monitor curiously as Lilia finished beating up another player. 

“How are you playing that upside down?”

“I call it upping the difficulty level~” Lilia laughed, as his thumbs moved across the controller in rapid speed.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll fall?” 

“Nonsense.” Lilia shook his head, his short hair fell around his face. “I’ll handle it.”

“Right. I’ll be back with food then.” 

“Please get me tomato juice!” he called out as he focused back on the screen. He floated low, as he planned to sit himself down onto the couch upon your return. 

“Who was that?” a voice on the call asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Lilia said, and the voice that had ask--Idia that is--huffed in response. 

“Could it be... your mom?” Lilia chuckled at that, but not for the reasons that his teammates believed. 

“Could be a sister.” another one suggested.

“Or maybe... a girlfriend?” 

“WHAT!” 

At the suddenness of the shout, Lilia flinched in surprise and dropped down onto the ground. He had pretty sensitive ears--and since Idia (not that knew LilV and Lilia Vanrouge were one and the same--) had the bright idea to shout into the mic--it definitely messed with Lilia’s concentration. 

However, instead of falling down to the ground--Lilia found himself caught... in your arms. You looked at him with a ‘I told you so’ expression, only to be caught up by his expression.

He gazed at you with surprise written all over his expression--from the way his brows were raised, to the glitter in his eyes and his slack jaw. It was certainly one you’ve never seen before--because there was little that could surprise Lilia these days. When he blinked away his stupor, he noticed the curiosity on your expression. ‘Why did you fall?’ your expression asked. 

He pointed out at Idia’s name on the screen. Your brows rose.

“Idia yelled into the mic.” Lilia explained with a light chuckle after he made sure his mic was muted. He bore no ill will to the Ignihyde Dorm Leader. In fact, Lilia found him absolutely hilarious. 

“They can’t seem to believe I have a lover~” Lilia giggled, and you shook your head--amused.

“--THAT’S TOTALLY UNFAIR.” Idia whined, and their other teammates either agreed or laughed along. “If there’s a god out there... please nuke LilV. He’s gotten too lucky--” 

“Does... does he still not know?” you wondered, and Lilia stuck his tongue out mischievously. 

“Well... he doesn’t go out much and I don’t really talk to him in school...” 

“Fair.” you conceded, with an amused smile, as Idia cried about needing to plead with the Evening Star harder. 

“On the subject of not knowing,” Lilia raised a brow. “I know I’m not exactly light and yet...” He crossed his arms as he stared up at you curiously.

“Oh... well, I’ve always been strong?” you said, unsure of where this was going. 

“Intriguing!” Lilia hummed as he happily snuggled into your arms. “In that case, I should try falling into your arms more often!~” 

“Please don’t.” 

“I won’t hurt myself.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’ll automatically stop worrying, Lilia.” 

Lilia peered up at you with curious eyes. You gazed back, and he realized that you were every bit serious about what you said. 

“Sometimes I find it interesting how humans seem so much more mature than most faeries at my age.” Lilia mused.

“Well, we are forced to mature faster.” You pointed out. 

Lilia hummed in a contemplative manner.

“In that case, would you carry me like this whenever I want?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. “It won’t really bother me.” 

“Excellent, shall we remain like this for the night, then?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

The two of you shared a happy smile, as you settled in for the night. 

--

[exclipssesss]

Stronger than you.

Alastor x Overlord!Reader.

Requested by: @itz-kira

Summary: Alastor finds great interest at you for being a fellow overlord although he tries to convince you that you are no less underneath him.

Warnings: mentions of uncontrolled suicide (light), violence (light), soft alastor

Type: Headcanon, Oneshot.

Words: 1340

You were one of the most powerful overlords in all of the Pentagram, demons of all sorts feared you for both your powers and your wit.

That is, almost everyone.

Funnily enough, the other overlords in hell treats you like some kind of joke, even a certain Radio Demon.

The moment you stepped into the Hotel, the situation became tensed, i mean, how could it not? Now there's not only one but two overlords in the hotel.

Alastor felt this, and immediately went to you about it.

"Why, dear you're making them all feel as if we're all gonna have our second death, smile why don't you?"

You rolled your eyes and immediately look around, the other demons have their eyes on both you and Alastor.

Charlie of course immediately went to you with glee.

"OH MY GOSH, OH MY GOSH! WELCOME!"

You laughed at her cheerfulness, very out of place for someone in hell.

The moment you told Charlie that you wanted to join her project of redeeming demons, Alastor's eyes immediately widen for a split second.

When Charlie and you stopped talking with Charlie skipping away with happiness, you can feel Alastor chuckling behind you.

"My, my, i didn't expect that. You certainly do amused me my dear."

He would honestly be really stingy with you at first.

But slowly and surely starting to warm up.

He'll back you up if someone dares to speak low at you.

You'd do the same if anyone dares to talk about him behind his back.

You just didn't know that his shadows are always watching, therefore he saw you almost killing someone into fucking oblivion just because they speak bad about him.

He really starting to like you now.

At first it's just mutual respect.

"Why, as someone who is also feared by many it's respectful to help those who isn't as powerful as i am! Which is why I'm helping you my dear."

"Sure Al,"

One day, some demon decided that it'll be haha fun time to bully Charlie about the Hotel.

As someone who works at the hotel, you were offended. So you decided to, teach him a lesson.

An extra pair of hands grabbed him by the arms and pulled him into a wall, another hand was on his throat, choaking him a little.

You were this close to killing him, and everyone in the room was basically terrified of you. This is your power after all, being able to manipulate body parts.

You can basically make someone commit suicide with their own hands without the victim being able to control them, so they were right to be scared.

You decided to let this bastard demon who threatened Charlie go, and he immediately apologized.

Someone else though, was about to do the same thing, you were just a tad bit faster to react than him.

"Well, that was certainly entertaining."

At that point he was more in awe than before, especially since you proved him that you are more than what you seem.

And my god are you such an interesting little darling to this man.

He didn't realize it at first that he's very fond of you.

That is until Charlie decided to do a staff meeting.

You were discussing about who's going to be the new manager.

Of course everyone pointed you since pretty much everyone now knows about your powers and therefore no one will dare to mess around.

But you thought differently.

"I don't know, i don't think i can handle being a manager. Plus, demons barely fear me compared to fearing Alastor there, i bet he does a one hell of an amazing job than i do."

Wowie does his heart did a leap there.

Congrats, this Radio Demon is now wrapped around your fingers.

He took the role of Manager with great honor and even asked you to be his assistant.

At first you refused because that's more work, but when you see his face,

How can you say no?

In the end, you basically became that feared badass duo in the Hotel. And boy does everyone knows not to mess with you two.

And even though it took some time, he actually confessed because "Fuck it, might as well have this feeling sorted than letting it be a mess."

You said yes because overtime you were fond of him as well.

Hope you're okay to be his darling for eternity because he ain't letting you go.

The confession:

Alastor paced around the hallway for five straight minutes, making sure that he was on terms with himself on what he's going to do.

At least, what he wanted to do.

For one of the most powerful overlords Hell has ever seen, he's sure as hell self conscious. Very self conscious. What if you say no? How is he going to react? Should he just end you? Himself? How did he got the feeling in the first place? It's not like you put a curse on him, did you? You did. He was almost certain of it. How else are you going to make him so attached to you?

These questions were raised in his head and not even in a second, more and more rose up with it. With a fix of his bowtie, he finally took a breath, not like he needed it, and walked out. Wearing his all time cheeky grin as always. Of course he was great at hiding his feelings, walking to you as if everything is normal, but he knew better, and you can sense it.

"Greetings, Strawberry man." You called out casually. Looking through your notes while trying to refill the booze in Husk's Bar. Alastor cringed a little at the nickname, and you chuckled in return, just like that he's head over heels for you again. "Hello my dear, i thought i told you not to call me that?"

You shrugged, and rubbed your hands together to get all the dusts away. "You did, but your reaction was always worth the act." You giggled, closing the boxes and putting em aside. "Anyways, need anything?" You asked, looking at him with slight concern.

"Indeed actually!" He chirped out, you can see a flash of panic trough his eyes, which is in itself was weird. "I need you-" he could've stopped there and already getting the point across. But we know this man is a gentleman, and that means actually trying to explain what's going on to the love of his life to be. "-to listen to me. For a moment."

"Oh sure, what's up? If this is about Angel pissing you off, i swear to Lucifer I'll immediately go." You teased him, although you weren't half joking either. Listening to Alastor ranting about Angel is not a rare thing. The opposite actually. Alastor laughed at this, and shook his head, a smile wider than before plastered on his face. "No darling. Although he is as infuriating as ever, thankfully that's not why I'm here."

He grabbed a hand of yours, and you were more concerned than ever. What's gotten into him? What happened? Although you didn't say anything about it, and instead just look up at him with confusion.

He continued to open his mouth, words flowing out and most came out better than the last. You can feel your cheeks heat up by every word, still confused on why he's saying this, till of course you met the end of his speech.

"In the end, sweetheart, my only drive and intention is only to make sure you are happy and satisfied alongside me. Believe me, i myself is also very much confused on what's going on but suffice to say i really did feel as if i've underappreciated you my dear, and i promised not to do that again. So with that out of the way, would it be okay for me to court you?"

Bro.

You're a confused mess.

But of course you said yes because aha this is Alastor??? Hello???

Well, we know what happened next anyways ;)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 4 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader go on their first date. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW 18+) Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Gap (10yr), exhibitionism, masturbation, fingering, spanking, penetrative sex, Prof/Student fantasy Word Count: 8.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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When I was younger, I hated going to museums. Granted, I'd only ever really had the opportunity to go during school field trips. The crackling, barely coherent ramblings of a stranger through a loudspeaker had never been my idea of fun.

In fact, I'd been to that exact museum before. But the present time was a little different. That time, I was enthralled with the objects on the other side of the glass. With wide eyes and childlike wonder revived, I was hanging on every word out of Spencer's mouth.

I knew the guy was probably a genius, but I had no idea how much of a genius he was until he was recounting the entire history of civilization like he'd been reading straight from an encyclopedia. He looked like a hilarious mix of proud and embarrassed when he finally admitted his IQ. Meanwhile, I had to admit that I not only had no fuckin' clue what my IQ was, I was certain it was significantly lower than his. 

He didn't seem to mind.

In a way, I thought it was strange when he told me he wanted to bring me to a place like that. After all, I'd told him I wanted to learn more about him. I figured a museum would teach me about everything else, not him.

But seeing him in this environment told me more about him than I ever could have imagined. I learned about his avid love for the most trivial facts, the way his inflection changed when he got excited, and that despite reading probably hundreds of thousands of books, his hunger for knowledge was still very much alive and well.

Most of all, I learned that Spencer Reid was unlike any man I'd ever seen before.

It was a bad idea. Because when we finally made our way out of the final exhibit, I didn't want to leave. Not even close. If you'd told my mother I spent several hours in a museum and didn't want to leave, she'd never believe you.

"Hey, so..." I started, pausing outside the gift shop on our way out. "It's almost 5. Did you want to grab dinner before we head back? I have worked up quite the appetite listening to you for the past 4 hours."

"Has it really been that long?" he asked incredulously before glancing down at his watch wrapped over his shirt.

I tried very hard, and failed, to suppress a giggle at the habit.

"I'm honestly surprised you still have spit left in your mouth," I joked as I swayed closer to him, almost enough to touch him.

"Ha ha, very funny," he replied. A slight pout formed on his face. I almost enjoyed the swapped roles; it wasn't often that he was the one who looked so forlorn.

"Come on, I'm joking!" I laughed before slipping my arm around his and pulling him closer to me.

Spencer glanced down in surprise, staring at my chest that was now fully pressed against his arm. Although, the way he looked at me was nothing compared to the response he'd given after I showed up in a pleated skirt that better belonged on a Catholic schoolgirl.

But I mean, like I'd said, I used to go there on school trips. It was only fair.

"I love listening to you talk, Spencer. You know that."

The speed with which he looked away when I finished talking was enough to tell me that I had said the wrong thing. His goofy, playful demeanor vanished so quickly, I'd almost gotten whiplash. He didn't remove his arm, instead clearing his throat and pulling out a brochure from his pocket to look at nearby places to eat.

A bit reserved, he asked if I was interested in one of the closer casual restaurants, to which I agreed. At that point, I removed myself from his side and was only a little surprised to see the way his body immediately relaxed.

I wanted to believe he just didn't like to be touched, which I was certain was true, but he was behaving differently with me than he had before. We'd touched in public before, a lot more than that, and we'd known each other a lot less!

But of course, that was probably why. The closer we got, the farther away he felt.

The walk to the restaurant was slightly awkward, so after a moment I decided to break the silence.

"You said you grew up in Vegas, right?"

"Yeah, until I moved to go to school," he explained, looking around at the surroundings of the D.C. crowds winding down rather than turning his attention back to me. 

At least I was finally learning more about him.

"Where did you go?"

"Caltech."

He was keeping his answers short, but I feel like he might still be a little embarrassed at my little jab at the museum. That was fine, I knew ways to make him talk. I clasped my hands behind me as I walked by his side, still tempted to touch him somehow, however ill advised.

"Was it hard being away from your family? That's a few hours away, isn't it?"

He laughed awkwardly, a sure sign that I'd forgotten that him and I come from different worlds.

"Well, I was barely 13, so... My mom was kind of legally obligated to follow me."

He was so cute, and he definitely wasn't aware of it.

"Right, sorry, forgot about the genius thing for a minute. Don't know how."

The smile he returned was genuine, which helped my guilt for bothering him yet again. But in my defense, it was easy to do when he was a literal genius and I was barely scraping by half the time.

As we arrived, we were seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant. I offered him the booth with a view of the door because I'd figured he would want it. He gave me a strange side glance at my assumption, like I was hiding something from him that would grant me the knowledge that it would be more comfortable for him to be able to see the door.

I didn't want to talk about how I knew that, though.

Instead, I asked, "Do you like it here? In Virginia?"

He nodded as he flipped open the menu, speaking almost scripted answers absentmindedly, "I do, but mostly because it's been so long that everyone I know is here."

I'd already been here before, so I didn't bother looking at the menu. Naturally, he'd only required a few seconds to read it. When he made eye contact again, I spoke through my thoughts.

"You said you're a profiler for the..."

"Behavioral Analysis Unit."

His tone was a mix of pride and nerves, which immediately made me nervous.

"I haven't looked it up yet because I'm scared about what I might find. What do you guys do, exactly?"

The server brought us drinks just in time to pause his answer, which he seemed to appreciate. I figured it was either a tough job to explain, or he didn't want to share that part of his life with me just yet (or, potentially, ever). 

Spencer lowered his voice like he usually did when he talked about work.

"We profile the behavior of serial killers. Sometimes for research, but mostly to assist local police in catching them."

"Oh..." I started, stopping mid-sip of my drink. It was a lot to take in at once. "So... yeah, I'm glad I didn't google it."

He scrunched his mouth in that unsure way, like he wanted to explain to me how he really felt about his job. Something in the bags under his eyes told me he hasn't talked about this in a long time. At least, not like he should. But he didn't talk about it. He looked away, opting to say nothing at all.

"Doesn't it get to you?" I pushed, trying to offer him the platform to talk about the thing that no doubt consumes most of his life.

"Does what get to me?" His voice sounded so far away.

"Spencer, when I met you, you were whisked away at the crack of dawn to go talk about serial killers. On a weekend. The second time you showed up at my place after clearly not having slept, I'm guessing straight from work..."

His eyes narrowed as I spoke, like I was talking from a tightrope that I could plummet off any second. He seemed scared that I would speak something into existence he wasn't ready to face himself.

"You're surrounded by evil all the time. You're responsible for learning, recognizing, and manipulating evil. That can't be easy."

Spencer's eyes were glazed over in a way I couldn't describe. He seemed defensive, steeled, and absolutely terrified. He wouldn't look me in the eyes, opting instead to stare down at the menu in front of him.

He shrugged as he halfheartedly concluded, "I guess that's one way to look at it. We also get to see a lot of good."

"Yeah..." I nodded solemnly, recognizing the dismissive thoughts from my own experience.

He was downplaying the great likelihood of traumatic memories he carried, as if he could will away the damage. Like it would stop existing if he could convince himself it wasn't that bad.

I wondered what had happened to him on the job for him to already have forgotten that things didn't have to be the worst possible to matter. That he still deserved better. That hurt does not require permission.

I couldn't stop myself, needing to see how he reacted when I continued, "But which do you see more of?"

I never got my answer. The server once again saved him from a conversation that got away from him. The presence of a third, impartial person shifted the mood back to what it was in the museum. I wondered how much was an act, both back then and in that moment.

Deciding it best not to dwell on the thought, I tried to forget about the darkness brewing in those coffee colored eyes. Once our orders were in, he turned his attention to the cocktail menu still laying in the middle of the table with a smile.

"I'm almost surprised you didn't try to order alcohol," he half-joked.

I leaned forward on the table, bringing a hand up to my mouth and whispering, "I heard there might be an undercover fed here, so, never can be too safe."

The bubbly, childish laugh that followed renewed my faith in him. He had that kind of infectious laugh that made you forget that badness existed at all. Once our ruckus had died down, he looked at me with the softness that had drawn me to him in the first place.

"You're cute."

When the words registered in my mind, I couldn't believe I'd heard them. The way his expression changed shortly after the words left his mouth told me he hadn't meant to say them aloud. But their effect on me was not at all stifled by his momentary lapse in judgment.

I'd wondered if it was getting hotter in the building, or if it was just my nerves getting the best of me. But it wasn't bothering Spencer, who was about to down yet another cup of coffee in front of him. I cleared my throat, trying to not look like a schoolgirl whose crush had just checked 'yes' on a note asking if he liked me.

Pointing to the mug in front of him, I joked, "How do you sleep?"

"Honestly? I usually don't."

That was the goofy overly literal dork I wanted to see more of.

"I can think of one way to wear you out," I suggested, lifting my leg to press the top of my foot against his leg under the booth.

He raised his eyebrows, giving a simple glance down to acknowledge the contact. Then his eyes were back on me, staring deeply with a hunger that would not be satisfied by whatever dish they brought out to us.

"I can think of several."

Humming cheerfully, I continued to run my foot up and down his leg. My cheeks flushed with my growing desire that I'd managed to put off for several hours. I was honestly shocked that I'd spent the whole day with this man, and only then thought about sleeping with him.

"It's too bad we can't," I pouted. "My roommate is back in town. Not sure she'd appreciate all the noise."

That time as my foot drew up his leg, he shifted in his seat so that his legs moved closer to me, extending the contact for a few seconds longer.

"Not to mention, I don't think you'd like to deal with several 20-year-olds."

The way he behaved whenever I pointed out my age was endlessly entertaining. That time, though, he seemed significantly less bothered.

"One is already borderline for me," he teased back.

I gasped, clutching at my chest as I batted my eyelashes just dramatically enough to showcase my pride.

"You flatter me, Dr. Reid."

He almost choked on his coffee as he stifled a chuckle, putting it down as he shook his head.

"Only you would take that as a compliment."

Recognizing this repartee as the foreplay it had always accompanied, I leaned forward on my elbows towards him. He immediately mirrored the movement, putting our faces much closer to each other than they'd been all day.

"What can I say? I enjoy being a challenge."

"Yes, you do." He hadn't even thought about it, responding almost instantaneously, suggesting once more that he could actually read my mind.

"How are you so good at that?" I kept the question vague on purpose.

He didn't fall for it.

"I'm good at a lot of things. Which are you referring to?"

What a cocky bastard. A very handsome, ridiculously sexy, dork of a bastard.

But he wasn't the only one at the table that knew how to get someone hot and bothered.

"Your humility is my favorite part, Dr. Reid." I stuck my tongue out at the end of the sentiment, a cheeky grin that reflected on him just as quickly.

"Quoting me? That's bold."

Deciding it had been too long since I had touched him, I lifted my hand to press a single finger against his chest as I taunted, "You aren't the only person with a good memory."

He leaned back at this point, backing away from my finger and the heated exchange.

"I don't have a good memory. I have an eidetic memory."

He had been very proud of that fact earlier when I asked him why the hell he was able to list off every single word from a museum display we'd seen an hour earlier. I'd asked him if it was the same as a photographic memory, and he'd gone on a rant about the pejorative connotations of the term. I wasn't going to go down that rabbit hole again today.

Instead, I took the same hand that had touched him moments before, curling all but one finger into a fist.

"So you'll be able to remember this forever?" I cooed as I held up my middle finger.

"I'll just file that away with the most important memories, like birthdays and the works of Arthur Conan Doyle," he sighed in response, graciously admitting defeat.

I was not brave enough to tell him I had no idea who that was, but I was sure I'd learn one day. That one, I thought, was probably safe to google. While he filed away my crude gesture, I filed away yet another fun fact to surprise him with later.

"You are, by far, the most interesting person I've ever met," I implored, to which he immediately shot back, "I could say the same about you. And I regularly talk to serial killers."

Touché, Dr. Reid.

"I'm flattered," was the last word I got in edgewise before our food arrived.

The rest of our time in the restaurant went very similarly, with teasing comments that built the sexual tension that was already too big for this tiny room. Our legs never stopped touching throughout the entire meal. Maybe that was why, when it was finally time to leave, we both felt a strange mixture of excited and sad. Once we were no longer behind the booth, it was back to pretending like we weren't constantly trying not to pounce on the other.

The walk to the metro was equal parts long and tense. At one point I'd swayed closer to him than I intended, and our sides brushed up against one another. Unlike before in the museum, he hadn't moved away. I couldn't believe something so minuscule could made me so happy.

The metro was more crowded than I'd anticipated. The fact that the station is underground was usually enough to make me feel a little claustrophobic, but the number of people bustling around me felt especially overwhelming. I couldn't help but chastise myself for having worn a skirt, considering the stark number of perverted men in places like these.

Spencer's touch woke me from my reverie. His arm had wrapped around my lower back with such unassuming delicacy, I'd hardly registered it at first. He was looking down at me with concern covering his features as he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sorry, there's a lot of people here."

I had one hand holding my skirt down against my leg, the other crossed over my chest.

"Makes me nervous," I further explained.

"Can I help?"

Even though he was offering, I could tell the crowds bothered him just as much. Thankfully, his presence was enough for me.

"You already are."

There was something so calming about his presence that was hard to explain. It wasn't his ability to physically protect me, considering he didn't  have his weapon with him most of the time I was with him. It wasn't his emotional availability (or lack thereof). It was more like he  exuded some chemical that made me docile. It was hard to explain.

I just liked him, okay?

When our train pulled in it was relatively crowded, but we managed to grab two seats near the back of a car. I sighed in relief as I plopped down into the plastic chair, happy to finally be able to rest my legs.

With Spencer on the aisle seat and us on our way back to Franconia Springfield Station, I let myself relax. My head dropped down onto his shoulder without much thought, and my entire body slumped over with it.

"How am I supposed to stay awake for this when you're so comfy?" I mumbled, looking down at the hem of my pleated skirt as I fiddled with it.

"That certainly sounds like quite the predicament," he said in what I assume was jest.

He sat up, bumping my head off his shoulder for a moment. I interpreted it to be a subtle way of telling me not to do it, but once he had shrugged off his cardigan, he looked at me like he was confused I hadn't resumed the position.

Armed with a simper, I cuddled up even closer this time, wrapping my arms around his and resting my cheek against his shoulder. I wasn't sure why he had gotten so open to touch, but I wasn't going to complain. 

He didn't say anything when he draped his cardigan over my lap, covering my knees peeking out from under my skirt. A nice gesture, I thought as my body instinctively gravitated towards him. It wasn't until I closed my eyes that the pieces started to come together.

I was on the metro, in a skirt, with Spencer Reid's hand slowly but surely inching up my thigh.

My eyes shot open, and I tensed my grip around his arm. It was the only thing I did to betray my otherwise composed and unassuming position.

His breath was hot on my ear as he leaned over to me and began to whisper, "Do you know the idea that people fall asleep after sex is less true for women than men? Many speculate it's because women are just neglected in bed, but that's not quite it."

I didn't dare respond, hardly trusting myself to breathe as his hand continued to move closer to me.

"Both sexes do release the same chemicals during orgasm. Oxytocin to stimulate smooth muscle contraction and initiate the need to bond, prolactin to relieve arousal and signal satiation, and the leftover gamma aminobutyric acid, dopamine, and serotonin..."

I couldn't understand how he'd managed to make the lecture sound sexy, but I was too lost in the sound of his voice to bother thinking about it then.

"Still, women are less likely to fall asleep. Sure, they typically exert less physical energy during sex, but what about those women like you with a penchant for going for a ride?"

A woozy, lovesick smile spread across my face at the reference to our first encounter.

"Those women might still stay awake for longer and may actually be more invigorated after reaching climax. And it's all thanks to their naturally lessened refractory period."

I nodded dumbly, gasping lightly once I felt his fingers make contact through the flimsy cotton of my underwear.

"Which might sound like a curse. But it's not. It means that those lucky women can reach multiple orgasms in succession. Some partners just aren't willing to put in that kind of effort," he continued, tracing a finger up and down my folds through the fabric.

"But I'm not one of them."

His words were strong, and I buried my face into his shoulder, trying not to alert the entire car what was happening underneath his cardigan.

"I would much rather watch you come undone. Again, and again, and again. I want to make sure that when I'm done with you, you can't keep your eyes open."

My breath was getting quicker, and I let out a small squeak against his shirt as he pressed down on the bundle of nerves at my center, drawing circles around it.

"That being said, if you need something to keep you awake, I do have a solution. But if you make a single noise, I will stop."

I had to bite down hard on my bottom lip to prevent any noise from slipping out. My legs were wavering between opening and closing as I tried to keep them apart. I could feel how damp I was getting. My hips were moving with a mind of their own, rocking toward his hand. It took all of my concentration not to give us away.

I choked on my breath as a sly finger snuck into the side of my underwear, allowing entrance to the others that followed.

"Shhh," he hushed, pressing a soft kiss on the top of my head. Underneath my skirt, though, he was much less chaste. Slipping two fingers into my heat, I could have sworn I heard him laugh from above me.

I didn't dare look at him, nervous that the moment I did, I would lose all control.

"I had no idea it would be so easy to get you to follow directions. Are you that worried you might get caught?"

He could feel my heartbeat against his arm. He must have been able to, because I was suffocating against his arm. My hands clenched around him like he was the only lifeline in an ocean of pleasure.

"Imagine what they would think if they knew what you let me do to you. What you beg me to do to you."

My legs were beginning to tremble around him as he stroked me from the inside. All I could feel was him. His hands, his breath, his words.

"Is that why you wore this skirt? A naughty little schoolgirl fantasizing about an older man touching you like this?"

He quickened the pace of thrusting into me, his words getting more insistent as the train was almost empty now, closing in on our stop.

"Is it everything you thought it would be? No. Can't be. You wish there was something else of mine in between your legs."

I couldn't explain how, but my climax snuck up on me. When it happened, it smashed into me like a wave crashing onto the shore. I gasped for breath against his arm, and he thankfully took mercy on me. Despite definitely making a noise, he continued his motions, palming at the crest of my folds to give me one last boost of stimulation.

I shook around him, my thighs tightening onto his arm as I finally found release. I could hear the announcement calling for our station, but it felt worlds away. Still, Spencer pulled his hand out from underneath our pile of clothes, wiping the evidence of our escapade against the inside of my skirt before also removing his arm from underneath my tight grip.

"Son of a bitch," I puffed, relaxing all my muscles at once as I tried to retain control over my pulse. I could barely think straight.

"You're welcome," he beamed, as if he hadn't just gone full dominant as he finger fucked me on the metro.

I didn't understand how the hell he expected me to get up and walk off like nothing happene, but somehow, I managed. I stood with wobbly legs and a flustered state of mind until he linked his arm with mine and led me off the car and into the station. I clung to the assistance, grateful that he was once again taking pity on me.

However, it felt like it wouldn't last long. Once we'd gotten to his car, he helped me in before climbing into the driver's seat. It was silent for a moment, like he wanted me to ask him a question that I wasn't willing to ask.

I didn't want the night to be over, but if he asked me if I was ready to go home, I'd have to say yes. After all, it wasn't proper form to invite myself to his apartment. Especially with how weird he got whenever I got close to him.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

The pity was gone.

I didn't think before I spoke, immediately responding as a joke, "Not unless it's yours."

The silence was back.

Oops.

I realized that I'd spoken out loud at the same time he delivered his response; I was going to stop him, but he was too quick.

"My place it is, then."

I couldn't help but smile, my cheeks burning as I asked quietly, like my volume might change his mind, "Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

I didn't have an answer. We didn't talk for a moment, enjoying the contented silence as I texted my roommate to tell her that I was going to be late home, if I came at all. I was hoping for the latter. Once that was sent off, I returned my gaze to the man paying almost full attention to the road.

"You know, I have to get you back for what you did back there."

He smirked, not breaking away from the road as he replied, "I did you a favor."

"A cruel favor," I whined, turning in my chair as I buckled my seat belt so I could get closer to him.

"No such thing," he corrected, although I think we both knew there very well could be such a thing.

"Uh-huh."

I watched him for a moment, trying to decide the best way to get back at him. I could always try the most relevant payback...

He didn't even notice my hand reaching out until it was already sliding up his thigh at a rapid pace.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as if it weren't already obvious.

"Getting you back," I snickered as I finally made it up his leg, palming the quickly forming erection under his pants.

"I'm driving!" His voice was so high pitched it was heartwarming. It was like our roles had switched, even just for a second.

"I'm not stopping you from driving!"

Obviously trying to compose himself, he grabbed my wrist and held it in the air and out of reach of him.

"Unless you want to crash this car, you'd better wait until we get back to my place."

It was a valid warning, but not one I wanted to hear.

"Spoil sport."

"At least you're alive!"

It was back to the sexual tension from before in the restaurant. I wanted to touch him, and I was guessing based on the visible tent in his pants, he wanted me. So, I got to thinking, and I figured that if I wasn't allowed to touch him, that only left one other person.

"... What are you doing?"

It was a valid question. He'd glanced over to see my hand traveling up my own skirt as I parted my legs just enough to maneuver beneath my underwear.

"Nothing," I hummed, now looking at him with half-lidded eyes as I rocked forward onto my hand.

"That's cruel." He sounded so devastated to see that I was doing what he couldn't, despite the fact he had his hand in this exact spot not that long ago.

My fingers dipped between my folds, collecting the remnants of the orgasm he had given me as I crooned, "What? You said I couldn't touch you while you're driving. I'm not touching you. You're welcome."

I opened my eyes just enough to see the way he tightened his grip on the steering wheel while trying not to look at me. Couldn't drive distracted. That was the entire reason why I was touching myself and not him.

"Unless, of course, you do consider this part of me as your property. In which case, I'm not going to stop, anyway," I snickered. 

Rewarding myself with a soft moan, I tried to prolong the experience the best I could. It was hard when every couple of seconds he would look over at me. I hadn't thought that I would find his anger that attractive, but there I was, coming apart at the seams already based on nothing but a look. 

He was thoroughly unamused, which only egged me on, honestly. I didn't care if I was being overdramatic as I touched myself, I wanted him to think about what he was missing. Which was why I didn't stop myself from moaning. Pants and gasps echoed throughout the car as I picked up my pace.

"I hope you're ready for the consequences of this very poorly thought out decision."

On the contrary, Spencer. I had very clearly thought it through. I was thinking it so clearly I could picture his hands where mine were, among other parts of him.

Thinking about how to dig an even deeper hole for myself, I found the perfect mechanism.

"Mmm, Professor Reid," I cried, recognizing that it would either infuriate him or bring him a great sense of pride. I was fine with either.

I closed my eyes so I could better envision the fantasy that was actually just a memory. For now. With my eyes closed, I couldn't tell much of what was going on outside of my touch, trying to ignore the man beside me as best as I could. I wanted him to suffer.

Spencer, however, had other plans. With both eyes still on the road, his hand had found its way to my legs, where it shot up to join mine. He removed my hand quickly and replaced it with his own.

There was no subtlety or warm up this time. Without any hesitation, he dipped a finger into my heat just to remove it and begin rubbing harsh circles over my clit. I couldn't stop the yell that resulted, and seconds later I came undone against him.

As soon as the spasming stopped, he removed his hand, not speaking a word or even looking at me. I'd realized at that point that he'd only finished me off because he hadn't wanted to grant me the satisfaction of doing it myself. He was asserting that yes, in some sense, he viewed this as a part of his property.

I was oddly okay with that.

"Is the silent treatment my punishment?" I asked with a pout after a few moments of nothing.

He laughed bitterly back, finally looking at me for a moment before vaguely replying, "No. Your punishment will be much more fun for me."

I had to admit the implication that the silent treatment wasn't fun for him was flattering, at least. I was glad to hear that he enjoyed talking to me as much as I enjoyed listening to him talk.

But for the moment, I was sort of exhausted. Not in the way that would make me fall asleep, but in the I-just-had-two-orgasms-let-me-recoup way. Even though we enjoyed talking, those moments were refreshing in their own way. The best kind of connections were the ones that could always be maintained, even in the quiet.

Despite it not being my punishment, Spencer remained fairly quiet the rest of the way home. I wondered if part of that was due to him brewing a plan for what would happen when we got there.

God, I hoped so.

As we pulled up to the nondescript building, I had to admit I was a bit disappointed to find Spencer didn't live in some whimsical fantasy like I'd always envisioned. The building looked like every other one. But, at the same time, I couldn't want to see the inside. If I had to bet, there would be a lot of books and a stark lack of computers.

Walking into Apt #23, I was only a little surprised by what I saw. The warm green tones of his walls were complimented by red and brown accents, and my theory was quickly proven correct.

"Whoa," I mumbled under my breath, "It's like a library."

"You must go to some pretty small libraries, then."

I rolled my eyes. Like his usual attempts at humility, Spencer failed horribly.

I spun around on my heels to face him, but at the same time as I heard the lock flip into place, I felt his hand around my arm. Spencer's movements were quick as he gripped tightly on my wrist and pulled me towards what I could only assume was his bedroom.

Weirdly, I was still trying to take in my surroundings rather than focus on fucking him. It made sense, I figured. I had already experienced two orgasms today, whereas he had none.

Oops. Guess I really was a spoiled brat.

But seriously—I was in his apartment! I wanted to snoop, dammit!

Spencer wasn't going to give me an opportunity, though. He'd even made a point of shutting the door to his room once we were inside. Something told me he would keep a close eye on me as long as he could. That was probably deserved, considering that within the first few hours of interacting with him, I had answered a call from his boss.

In my defense, it had been fucking hilarious.

He led me to stand in front of him, and out of instinct and habit, I moved forward to kiss him. I never made it to his lips, though. Spencer pushed me aside toward the bed, and I laughed as I leaned over it, making a point of flipping up the back of my skirt.

"I've been bad, Professor," I giggled, turning to glance back at him from the position I had happily assumed without being told.

He had that dark fire in his eyes that usually came before a storm.

He looked like he was ready to break me. I was ready to be broken.

"Are you going to teach me another biology lesson?"

When his hands touched me, they were as tender as ever. He caressed my hips where I had turned the skirt up, hooking his fingers around the waistband of the underwear and casually removing them.

"No, I'm afraid not."

He sounded delighted despite the words he spoke.

"This will be a very different kind of lesson."

Oh, I realized all at once.

"A lesson in discipline?" I inquired, swaying my hips underneath his hands and waiting for confirmation.

The loss of his hand on one side caused anticipation to build. I could hear the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

It was hard to tell which happened first. Instantaneously, his hand came down hard on the soft skin of my backside as he responded, "Yes."

The adrenaline that coursed through my veins in response shook any feelings of fatigue I might have sustained throughout the day. I welcomed his body heat against my back as he leaned forward against me, and used his weight to press me down into his bed.

"Unless you've changed your mind."

"No!" I shouted back much too forcefully before gripping onto the sheets in front of me. "I deserve to be punished, Professor Reid."

He withdrew from me and, within seconds, brought his hand down on me again, that time striking the other side. The snapping sound of the contact was enough to elicit a response. I clamped my legs together and gave a soft mewl. Appreciating my vocal response, the next two hits came in rapid succession. I could feel the warmth building in the skin, the breeze from the motions acted as a buffer for the delicious sting.

He roughly grabbed both cheeks in front of him, for no reason other than wanting to. I groaned at the sensation of the tender flesh being handled, which only led him to release one to smack it once more. He followed with the other, appreciating the balance required of this particular punishment. I wasn't going to stop him. I was happy to continue. But something told me that he was breaching the point of comfort in his own conscience.

He was always so worried he would break me. I couldn't say it wasn't endearing. That didn't stop him from giving each side one more forceful blow, however, which earned him a mangled cry from deep in my chest. His body was against mine again, one of his hands reaching around to tilt my head up, despite not being able to see him. I was beginning to think he just enjoyed manipulating my body at will. To see how far I would let him.

"I think you're starting to get it, (y/n)."

"Yes," I responded, not caring if it didn't make much sense in response.

Despite the fact he'd already finished me twice today, I somehow already wanted him again. Maybe it was the allure of finally being able to fuck him in his own bed, or maybe it was the desire to see him fall apart as a reminder that I'm not the only one desperate for the other's touch.

So quickly he returned to the gentle, barely there traces along my skin.

"Punishment looks good on you," he praised, and something about the way he said it filled me with pride.

"You look good on me, too, sir," I slurred as he continued to draw feathery markings on the abused skin. He chuckled, finally moving up along my back before I interrupted his thoughts and appreciation once more.

"Fuck me," I begged. I wanted him and didn't care how I got it. "Let me help you feel good."

The hands that had inflicted pain moments ago were now gently massaging my shoulders through my top. I sighed, relaxing further into his touch. So easily I had become complacent to his desire. I let him do whatever he wanted, trusting that he would never do anything to truly, honestly hurt me. 

"Something tells me you're more interested in making yourself feel good," he asserted — quite correctly.

"Can't we have both?"

His silence told me he was considering my words. I knew that he didn't want to, since that would ruin the whole idea that this was a punishment in the first place. Then again, I didn't think he was fully committed to that idea anyway.

Dragging his hands once more down the plane of my back, he stopped to grip my hips and shift me backwards until I was pressed against him.

"You're lucky you look so fucking cute in that skirt," he growled.

I felt dizzy again already, drowning in the way his bed smelled like him.

"Mmm, I wore it just for you," I admitted, rubbing myself gently against his crotch now pressing into my bottom.

"Smart girl," he responded.

It felt like I was in a dream, to be there with him like that. For a long time, I'd thought I'd never see him again, let alone be laying on his bed.

I could hear him stripping behind me, and I peeked over my shoulder with a modest smile.

Time was not moving fast enough, I thought, but it was also moving too fast. Because as badly as I wanted him to ravish me, I was afraid what would happen when it was over.

I couldn't think about that in that moment, though.

Once he reached into his nightstand, I giggled with anticipation. He raised his eyebrows at me, unable to contain his own laughter.

"Oh, you're happy with yourself, huh?"

"A little bit, yeah."

When he returned to me, his hands were still gentle as they pushed my skirt back up where it had fallen. He revealed my body to himself, and I didn't have to be able to see it to know that my arousal spread down my inner thighs. I had, after all, already had two orgasms before now thanks to the man behind me.

"I'm also pretty happy with you," he whispered as he leaned over me.

With no warning, he fully entered me with one swift thrust. I whimpered at the feeling of him hitting against angered skin, mixed with the pleasure of being full once again. I clutched at the sheets and wished that they were him, wishing that I could somehow be even closer to him than I already was. 

"We'll see if you still feel like smiling after I'm done with you."

It was the last thing he said before he began to ruthlessly pound into me. I struggled to scream as loudly as I wanted to, but I couldn't make any noise at all. My body seemed to have relented all control to him within seconds; I didn't put up a single battle. Although his grasp held me in place, I still attempted to cant my hips forward to allow him better access.

My chest and face were warm with friction from rubbing against the bed, and my knuckles were blanched from the force exerted to try and remain grounded. Each movement seemed so purposeful, much like the way he thrashed at my skin with his hand.

"Fuck me," were the first words I managed to string together.

With one forceful thrust, he held me down on him as all the moans I couldn't make previously came pouring out of me. I thought I might actually cry from how overstimulated the day was  becoming. Seemingly reading my mind, Spencer pulled out of me entirely. I tried to reorient myself, but he stopped me. Using one hand to grab hold of my arm, he flipped me onto my back beneath him.

I hadn't even realized I was still wearing basically all of my clothes until he had to force my skirt back up again. Missing him between my legs, I began to crave him everywhere else, too. I struggled to pull my shirt over my head.

Spencer didn't stop me, just watching while he playfully rubbed his arousal at my entrance.

"Please, sir," I pleaded once I was finally able to lift my legs. I wrapped them around his hips and pulled him closer to me without letting him slip into me just yet.

"Just as impatient and needy as ever, (y/n)."

I chewed on my bottom lip, looking up at him with the puppy dog eyes that had always worked on him up to that point. It must have worked again, because he was sinking back into me before I knew it. My arms spread out across the bed, holding onto whatever I could reach as he set another brutal pace.

Our bodies melding together in a chaotic fusion of skin and fluids, I let myself get lost in the bliss of Spencer Reid laying claim to my body. I threw my head back, my eyes clamped shut as one of his hands came up to caress one of my breasts through my lacy bra.

"With undergarments like this, I have to wonder if you planned this all, young lady," he teased, no doubt referring to the matching underwear now discarded on the floor.

I opened my eyes to meet his, and for a second I was left breathless at the sight of him pumping into me. How I managed to say anything at all is a miracle.

"Never a plan, sir. But always a pleasure."

A flirtatious sparkle in his eyes, he slowed down as he pressed, "Did you wear them for someone else, then?"

The way I arched my back caused him to push even further into me, and I had to pause to moan before I continued.

"Are you jealous?"

His hips snapped forward, producing a simultaneously jolt of pain and pleasure. His voice was breathy as he tried to hold himself together while speaking, "Should I be?"

Our eye contact caused tension so powerful that I was certain it was palpable. A devilish grin and a bit of a snicker was the provocation he needed to drive into me harder once again. I didn't even try to suppress the noises he elicited from me, tightening my grip around him with my legs.

"Take me," I whispered under my breath, almost hoping that he wouldn't hear me.

I couldn't tell if he did, but his hand switched sides of my chest, and our faces grew closer together.

"I'm yours," I slurred. I truthfully hadn't thought about the words when I gifted them to him, but he clearly took note of them. That time, it was his moan that filled the air in the room, and I had never felt so excited by one of his responses. I chased after the feeling, locking eyes with him as both his hands grabbed my hips to begin the race to the finish.

"I'm yours, Spencer."

I didn't stop to wonder if I could play this off as part of the fantasy. I mean, it was part of my fantasy; the fantasy of being his, and him being mine.

He didn't object to my words then, either, and he had definitely heard me that time.

I smiled, barely noticing that he'd placed his fingers back on my heat, swiping frantically at my clit until I lost all composure underneath him. My hips rocked at no apparent rhythm, and distorted versions of his name broke through my mouth.

I hadn't even come down yet when he rammed into me with full force, bottoming out once again. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, followed by my muscles pulling everything out of him that they could.

The view of his satisfied face through my lust-filled daze was angelic. It appeared that he saw the same in me, but I couldn't be sure. Just as quickly as the moment had come, it had passed, his arms giving in to his weight as he collapsed onto my chest.

His hair tickled my collarbones, and I laughed at how incredibly out of shape he was. Especially for an FBI Agent. Even if he did go on the field often, I figured the resident dork didn't need to be totally ripped, anyway.

And, hey, he was strong enough to treat me like a ragdoll, so who was I to judge?

"Tired?" I asked, taking a shaky hand to his head, playing with the soft brown curls damp from sweat.

"You aren't?" he slurred, his words smothered against my skin.

"I am fucking exhausted."

That time, we both laughed. He was clearly pleased that, despite any perceived weakness, he was still able to thoroughly wear me out. When he moved to leave me, I dropped my legs. I was surprised I had managed to hold them until then, honestly.

He fixed his hair that had fallen in his eyes first, and I smiled at the peculiar priority. It was cute, though.

"Do you have to take me home?"

I tried not to let the disappointment bleed into my voice, but it did. He tried not to notice. He didn't answer as he cleaned himself up, and I sat up to look at him — once the world stopped spinning, anyway.

"No."

The butterflies spiraled out of control, spreading through every inch of my soul. I must have been beaming, because he looked so very nervous.

"Thanks."

His response came in the form of an unsure smile, followed by a genuine appreciation.

I briefly wondered if he realized just how transparent he was, but then decided I didn't want to think about it. I excused myself to clean up before bed, taking a long moment to rub my skin with aloe from under the cabinet, only to realize that I had basically nothing clean to wear. I rolled my eyes at the situation, wondering how many red flags it would set off for me to ask Spencer for some of his clothes.

I could just be naked. He seemed to like me that way.

I padded back into the room, expecting him to be waiting up for me. He wasn't. Spencer had passed out on the bed before he even had a chance to get under the covers. I stood at the door for a moment, trying to appreciate the value of this quiet moment while I still could.

Stripping off my clothes as quiet as possible, I was careful not to wake him. However, that also meant I couldn't climb under the covers, either.

It isn't exactly snooping if I'm looking for something innocent, right? That's what I had to tell myself, regardless. Because I was not going to freeze my ass off over a hookup's paranoia. Glancing at the dresser, I almost convinced myself it wouldn't be an invasion of privacy to open it. Luckily, I didn't have to. Directly next to it was a hamper of clean, folded laundry, with a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt on top. While disappointed that I had lost my excuse, I was grateful I had stripped myself of the choice.

He deserved better than me trying to pry into his life like that.

Slipping into his clothes, I stopped to hug myself in the soft fabric. With him asleep, I felt comfortable taking a moment to revel in the position he'd allowed me to exist in. I was in his apartment, in his clothes, and I would soon be back in his arms.

For now.

I chased the inevitable end out of my thoughts, slinking onto the bed and shimmying over to him until his hands found me in his unconscious state. I faced him, my hands pressing softly against his chest to feel his heart happily working under my touch.

His eyes fluttered open for a second, just long enough to see the wonder in my own. A smile crept along his cheeks, and he wrapped a lazy arm around my waist.

I wondered if he recognized his own clothes, or if he even realized this was real. Then again, the alternative was him assuming that it'd all been a dream... and it was a pleasant one, it seemed. 

"I'm happy," he confirmed in a hushed tone.

My heart almost stopped, and I peeked up at him, inching up so I could better see his face. His breathing evened back out as I felt the way he relaxed, quickly retreating back to the comfortable embrace of sleep.

"About what?" I whispered back.

Our legs twined together, and a soft sigh left his lips. I waited with bated breath  for his response, although I don't think I could have ever been prepared for what followed.

"I'm happy that you're mine."

... What?

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| Part 5 |