#and how the world just can't let that guy be

[nemisuki]

After Hours

Comfort AU | Just helping the blonde feel better about himself because he deserves the world.

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, fluff and angst, no smut, reverse comfort, wholesome oneshot, words of affirmation, he’s just a lil guy fr, 668 word count

The sound of approaching footsteps echoed throughout his silent dorm room. The only other noise being the rustling leaves outside his window - strong winds causing the autumn tree branches to sway in the chilly air beyond the glass.

"We really need to work on this habit of yours Katsuki."

The mattress slightly dips with the new added weight as she sits on the edge of his bed, likely staring at him, though he wouldn't know, as he lays backside to her - mindlessly staring at the wall.

He told her to not show, yet she did anyway, as always.

"Go away Y/N."

If only he'd looked at her, then he would've seen the way she simply smiled at his remark, unbothered by his blunt words.

She slowly lays beside him to make herself comfortable, a small yawn escaping her as she turns on her side to face his back.

"You can't keep pushing me away" she says softly, so much so that it could be considered a whisper.

"I said go away."

"I think your hurting-"

"Stop it" he mumbles, sharply cutting off her words with a huff. As his body tensed from her field of view. 

But he knows she isn't one to back down.

"You know.... to me you're the most important hero in my life" she hums, her hand slowly wrapping around his torso to spoon him from behind.

He doesn't push her away - making her only be met with silence. Seems he's already lost the urge to fight back, which only heightens her concerns.

Her grip on him tightens at that realization, "You don't have to blame yourself Katsuki, you're only human."

She doesn't say much after that, understanding the best form of comfort for him is offering silence.

In other terms - the invitation to speak if needed, while staying by his side, waiting patiently for him to let her in.

As time passes, she doesn't know how long it's been, the only thing occupying her mind being the urge to get a glimpse of his face.

He hasn't made a sound or moved in a while. Has he fallen asleep?

Her own question gets answered as she takes notice of his sudden shaking body, making her heart lurch at the immediate breakdown, his emotions finally reaching a breaking point.

Small sniffles escaping him as he finally lets his walls break down.

".....please let me hug you properly" she whispers, biting the inside of her cheek to not cry alongside him. It's not often he's so vulnerable like this, that she can't help but to feel pain at his own suffering.

It takes him a moment but he reluctantly shifts around, finally facing her as those red glossed orbs meet hers.

On that pretty face typically seen with his signature scowl now lies a defenseless version of Katsuki that only those closest to him get to witness.

"....hurts..."

Her eyes slightly widen at his small mumble, her body quickly moving on its own, pulling him into a tight embrace as one hand caresses his back while the other gently runs through his hair.

It doesn't take long as he decides to cling to her, burying himself against her body as muffled sobs escape him.

Silent tears flow down her face as she presses soft kisses against his scalp, "I know... but I'll listen. When you're ready, okay?"

He quietly nods beside her, pulling himself closer as she drapes the blanket over the two of them. It takes him a while but "....sorry for earlier."

"mhm i know katsuki."

There's no doubt in her mind that she's the only one with the privilege to hold him like this - so she'll wait for him, listen to his troubles and soothe the blonde seeking refuge.

In her eyes she doesn't see the angry hothead who strangers tend to avoid in the halls, but a wounded boy attempting to fix his past mistakes and accept himself to move forward.

Maybe this time - she can be his hero.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| this was inspired by an album called 'Cry' by Cigarettes After Sex (specifically the song 'cry' which can be heard at 27:44-32:01) : link! I think Bakugo is such a complex character and as seen in the show he often struggles with personal issues. In this fic, it's up to your interruption on what he's battling against! tags ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ     ⎯⎯ ✦

also i tried something different in the layout! as u can see i used colors for the first time to highlight a characters dialogue. whats more important is if YOU GUYS prefer this or not. please vote in the poll below so i can meet ur standards bc thats all i care about!

i put examples below if your confused (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭

Option 1 Example : Bakugo mumbles with a scowl, "vote or your pillow will be warm tonight."

Option 2 Example : Bakugo mumbles with a scowl, "now fucking vote nerd."

[poisonf0rest]

genuine question because youre one of my favorite writers, you seem to really have a thorough grasp of the characters: what do you see in rafayel that makes him appealing? i try to get past his entitled brattiness because i really want to enjoy all of the guys, but i cant see anything else. please help me understand 🥲

Oh boy, baby, darling, sweetheart, you opened a can of worms. Come do a little bit of character analysis with me~

About Rafayel:

Rafayel is a brat, yes. But that means he wears his heart on his sleeve, outright when he needs your attention or sulking when something is bothering him or faking a dramatic accident to get your attention. There's no silent guessing or fake "I'm fine's," just his overdramatic, raw emotion that's easy to read. He's has anxious attachment stemming from hundreds of years of betrayal and loss.

Rafayel is a romantic, a yearner. And yes, while I also agree his attitude was annoying at first I am very unfortunately into people who get on my nerves, especially when they are flirty and funny as well. I folded during his hospital scene.

Entitled? He is a god. He has been trying and failing to save his entire civilization for over 800 years and still simply can't because he refuses to hurt the one he loves. While all the boys have been through pain there's something about Rafayel's story that really gets me. I think it’s because if I— as mc— knew the sacrifice he was making, I would give myself up. So to have someone selfish enough to place me first is heartbreaking, devoted, and cruel. 

Also there are plenty of scenes where Rafayel is serious, especially if you read between the lines. The brattiness and sass is a playful cover to someone who's been through pain and understands it. Someone who chooses to still see joy and happiness in his life while fully understanding how cruel the world is.

Simply, I'm a sucker for doomed character archetypes. There is no version of Rafayel's and mc's story where they both end happy. Millions of people will die or if mc kills herself Rafayel will live forever as a husk of his former self. Using a sassy, filirty, bratty attitude to cover up such a genuinely depressing story is so juicy to me.

About Me:

I'm a Zayne irl. Work is honestly the most important thing to me outside my family, I'm devoted to my hobbies and leadership positions, and I have a close circle of friends I would do anything for. I'm also fucking hilarious subjective.

I'm the eldest sibling, the guard dog, the de-facto leader for almost everything. I'm the person who had to grow up fast, to parent my immigrant parents at times, who never made space for love, and who is by default independant and comfortable with it.

I prefer to listen-- I love my yapper friends. Don't get me wrong I can talk for hours about anything, but day to day I tend to get exhausted talking after a while so I surround myself with people who can do the easy talking for me.

My irl partner is a mix between Rafayel and Sylus I'd say. He's the one who pulls me out of my work spirals by nagging me until I give in, someone I'm comfortable yapping about my current hyperfixations too, someone who my inner child can come out to. But I also enjoy being a caregiver, that's always been my role and I relish in it, I like being relied upon as much as I appreciate having someone in my life that lets me take a step back. The only part that's Sylus is how his love language is bullying me and his vibe/looks lmao, but usually I am more into raf-stereotypical pretty boys.

So, overall, the appeal of Rafayel to those that choose him:

Rafayel is for the eldest daughters who needs their inner child to be free, who needs a little bit of ridiculousness and impulsiveness in their lives.

Rafayel is for those who never got praised for their effort or strength, for those who success was the only option, who had to be perfect, reliable and serious all the time. He makes it so clear how much simply being with you means to him, constantly complimenting, flirting, and reassuring you just how much he needs you. Showing you how obsessed with you he is.

Rafayel is for those who didn't think love had a place in their lives due to shit family or life circumstances. He proves time and time again that you're the only one he loves. Even though he's lived forever, you were worth the wait and that he would wait again for you, no matter how long it takes. He proves you can be loved, and that it comes easy.

Rafayel is for those who always placed others first. He's more than willing to show you again and again you will always be first in his mind. He needs you more than he does water. Sure, you can take care of him, but he wants to be with you and take care of you, too.

Rafayel is for those who need someone else to drag them out of work/school/spiralling even when they don't want to admit it, bringing in laughter, color, and a little bit of dramatics.

Rafayel is for creators who dedicate themselves to their craft, who are scared of losing this "spark," who want to get better but constantly feel that what they create isn't enough or must be more. 

Rafayel is for hopeless romantics, those that go out of their way to surprise their friends during their birthdays, those who plan platonic dates for those they care about, those who put out so much love into the world and suddenly break when they get that love back.

Rafayel is for those used to having little siblings or those to take care of in our lives. Only while Rafayel relishes in the attention, he's also ready to give it back five-fold.

Rafayel is a switch for switch (brat for brat) lmao. He's for those who like to start on top, teasing and pushing his buttons to get all those cute reactions out of him, just until he breaks. Then he can take control and finish us up. We love vocal men.

Maybe projecting, but Rafayel is the perfect bi-girl's boyfriend. He's a classic pretty boy, unafraid to be in touch with his feminine side, a little dramatic, a little artsy. But he's also super romantic, sensitive, loving, and intense. And gosh, who could say no to those big puppy eyes?

I could probably continue to talk about Rafayel for hours, but ya, hopefully this helps answer why I and others love this man. Just continue on with the main story and read between the lines with his dialogue and I'm sure you'll pick up on it too~

[majestyeverlasting]

Hello! If you are willing I would like to request a Frankie morales x reader oneshot? 🙃🙃 im obsessed with Frankie x wife reader lately and I was thinking maybe you could write somethin where the reader is pregnant and having cramps / contractions while Frankie is out with his friends and calls him all freaked out but even though it’s just false labour he still rushes home anyway?🥰🥰

(I love your writing btw I hope you accept this request thank you <3)

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐲 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

Pairing Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Summary A night of laughter, love, and quiet devotion reminds you and Frankie how much your world has grown—especially with your baby on the way.

A/N Thank you so much for this request and your patience, anon! This is my first time writing for Frankie, so let me know what you guys think. 

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Across the living room, the evening news drones so low, the TV might as well not be on at all. Ten minutes ago, Frankie left you alone on the couch to go get ready for a night out. You’d looked up from your book long enough to catch the wink he shot you before disappearing up the staircase.

As easy as it would be for him to stay in, you insisted he go out and enjoy himself. The two of you had finally settled into your new home. Soon enough, the guys were starting to rib him about falling off the face of the earth.

He's getting better at striking a balance these days. 

“Alright, hermosa,” he announces as he descends the stairs. “Here’s what I’m working with...” 

Frankie walks back into the living room in dark-wash jeans and a sage button down. As you set your book aside, he offers a goofy spin in a lighthearted mockery of what you oftentimes do. You try to restrain your smile, but it shines through anyways. Frankie grins like he’s won a prize, teeth glinting along with the sparkle in his dark eyes.

Everyone said he was trouble when you first met. It didn’t take long to realize they meant the intoxicating kind that disarms a room, draws people in, makes them feel seen. The kind you’d never recover from losing if you let slip away. 

A year ago, he got down on one knee and asked you for forever. That was the moment you realized that, in turn, you were the trouble he couldn’t bear to lose.  

Before you have the chance to stand, he stalks over to you and leans down to capture your lips in a brief, tender kiss. 

You smile when he pulls away to stand back up to his full height, all six feet and broad shoulders. Looking up at him from your seated position feels a little funny, but you can't bring yourself to mind. If for no other reason than the gentle way he pinches your upturned chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Have fun,” you murmur as you blink up at him. 

“I will.”

“And be safe.”  

“Yes ma’am.” Frankie’s touch falls away, and you stand to wrap your arms around his neck.

You tuck your nose into his shirt as his strong arms encircle your waist. He smooths a large hand up your back before stilling at the nape of your neck to deliver a firm but gentle squeeze. As he starts to pull away, you slip your fingers into his hair to scratch his scalp with your nails. It’s been a while since his last haircut, and now the dark strands curl beneath his ears. 

Frankie hums a low note of satisfaction. “Not fair.” 

“Completely fair,” you lilt.

He chuckles and pulls back enough to meet your gaze. His eyes are soft as he says, “Should be back in a couple hours.” 

“I’ll wait up.”

"You don't have to," he says.

"Don't I always?"

He thinks back over the times he's gone out without you, and yeah. You always do.

•••

It's quiet when he arrives back home. 

He kicks his boots off at the door and notices a pink sticky note on the wall above the key holder. There's a smiley face and heart drawn on it along with "welcome back!!!" Frankie feels himself smiling as he plucks it off the wall and saunters further into the house. 

In the living room, one lamp remains on so he can navigate his way through the otherwise dark space. You've folded the throw blanket. Fluffed and arranged the pillows like you do every night before bed. It’s the little things like that, little signs of life, that he’ll never tire of coming back home to. 

When Frankie finally enters the bedroom, he sees your smile in the warm, dim lamplight. You're kneeling on the bed wearing the cutesy black pajama set he likes on you. A breathy chuckle escapes him as he takes you in before his eyes find yours. 

He plays off the warmth in his cheeks by holding up the sticky note you had left for him. 

You tilt your head with innocent, furrowed brows. “Where’d that come from?” 

“Beats me," he plays along as you slide off the bed. 

He sets the note on the dresser so he can rest his hands on your waist when you approach. The scent of vanilla evades his senses in the gentlest way. 

“Did you have fun?” It’s a genuine question, but his mind goes fuzzy when you smooth your hands from his stomach up to his pecs. 

With a distracted nod, his thumbs slip beneath your satin tank top to brush your skin. All he can think about is the gentleness of your touch. The way you begin to toy with the button at the top of his shirt without actually unbuttoning it. 

“But not too much fun, right?” you ask. “You’re not too tired, are you?” 

You finally pop the first button undone, then the next one, then the next. Revealing more and more of the dusting of hair across his tanned chest. 

Rather than answering, he scoops you over his shoulder as you squeak his name. 

- 

Eight Months Later

It’s been a while since Frankie laughed this hard. When he’s finally on the verge of catching his breath, Santiago picks up from where Will left off in the story, and that pleasant side ache returns. If he weren't too busy swiping the tear from his eye, he reckons he’d see every head in the bar turned to gawk at the four cackling hyenas. A live country rock band plays as their soundtrack.

Luckily, that isn’t the case. Like them, everybody is lost in their own little worlds. With their own inside jokes and old stories that endure no matter how many times they're told. 

“And that’s what your ass gets for trying to show off,” Will concludes. It earns him a prompt elbow to the side from his younger brother, whose cheeks are either flushed from the whiskey or embarrassment. 

It had been the story about Benny getting told off by a group of older women during a group trip to Panama. Not in English, but in Spanish. The icing on the cake was that they had been pausing every few words so Santiago could translate for them in real time. 

As their amusement begins to settle, they look around at each other and shake their heads. It’s been too long since they’ve gotten together like this. Frankie takes a small swig from his beer and lets his head rest against the wall behind him. 

Under the dim lights, with drinks on the table, and surrounded by strangers, it feels as though no time has passed at all.  

Benny’s eyes rove over to the recreation room, where people shoot pool and throw darts. 

“I don’t know about y’all, but I’m ready to kick some ass in a game of 501,” he says. 

William folds his hands on the table. “We puttin' money up?”

“Hell yeah, we are,” Benny scoffs and pulls a face. “I’m leaving here with something.” 

“Twenty-five each and the winning team splits the pot?” Santiago proposes. “I call Fish on my team.” He gives Frankie's shoulder a squeeze.

Benny drums a beat on the table. “Let’s do it.” 

They’re in the middle of scooting past other patrons when Frankie’s phone begins buzzing in his pocket. He doesn’t expect to see a picture of your face light up the screen. Santiago is the only one in the group who notices. 

“Gotta take this,” Frankie tells him, and answers the call as he turns away. 

“Hang on one second, honey, I’m getting someplace quiet.” 

To make it to the front of the establishment, he shuffles between a small sea of tables filled with people with loose smiles and glowy faces. He holds the door open for a group of young ladies filing inside, which earns him a series of chirpy thank-yous. The giddy energy of the night fades once he’s outside, as if it was all stuffed within the walls of Dave's Bar and Grill. With the patio being around back, only a few people stand smoking out front. 

The air is warm. A couple of the parking lot lights flicker. Frankie heads toward one of the benches as he says, “Alright, sweetheart, I’m here.”

A heavy breath is the first thing that greets him from the other end of the line. 

“Frankie,” your voice is shaky, and his brow furrows as he takes a seat. 

“Talk to me,” he coaxes, his voice even softer. 

“I’m cramping pretty bad right now.” You take another deep breath. “I think it’s the Braxton Hicks the nurse was telling us about. They’re finally happening.” 

He stands from the bench and begins pacing along the curb. “You sure they're the false ones?” he asks. “You know you’re body better than anybody else…” 

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure.” Another sharp ache pulses low in your stomach, and makes you bite back a small whine. 

Frankie releases his lower lip from between his teeth as guilt tugs at his chest. “Go lay down, okay?” he says as he fishes his truck keys out of his pocket. “Or run yourself a bath if you can manage. Nurse said that’s supposed to help.” 

Shuffling arises on your end. “Okay,” you murmur.

“I’m on my way.” 

Tonight, you can’t muster the willpower to tell him to stay out with his friends. Ever since you hit the thirty-four-week mark, you’ve been hyper-aware of every pang, flutter, and gurgle. Even if you were the one feeling the heat, it was easier to walk through the flames with him. 

“Drive safe, okay?” you say. “Go the speed limit.” 

“I’m always safe.” It’s a white lie, but he was getting much better. Especially now that he was about to have two people looking forward to him arriving home in one piece at the end of the day. 

Life is a delicate, fragile, remarkable thing. It’s a fact that solidified all the more the first time you showed him a black-and-white ultrasound and pointed out your little girl. 

“I’ll be there soon,” he promises. 

Santiago steps outside as he's hanging up, immediately scoping out Frankie. 

“Everything alright, man?” He searches Frankie’s gaze. He’s always analyzing and piecing together. People, places, things. Frankie doesn’t have to say anything. “Your wife and baby okay?” 

Frankie nods, but there’s worry etched across his face. “Gonna head home to be on the safe side.”  

“I’ll let the guys know.” Santiago pulls Frankie into a hug and gives him a few pats on the back. “It was good seeing you tonight.” 

“Likewise.”

“Guess it’ll have to be a playdate next time,” Santiago teases. 

Frankie cracks a smile. 

•••

With the bathroom door cracked, you can hear the familiar shuffling of Frankie entering the house. His keys clink into the bowl shortly before the steps begin to creak under his weight. One purposeful footstep after the next, until he’s filling the doorway with a hand on his hip. But you sit in the bathtub with your eyes closed and your head tipped back. The subtle scent of lavender fills the humid air. You’re only visible from your collarbones up, and your pregnant stomach rises above the bubbly water. 

Rather than speaking, he stands there and takes you in with those soft, dark eyes. You’re beautiful where you lay. His gaze is palpable, and opening your eyes to meet it solidifies for him that you’re okay. It's a silent assurance. These moments when you don't need words have only grown in number. Every trace of worry that once existed has dwindled away.

As he takes a small step inside, he tosses his baseball cap onto the sink counter and runs a hand through his hair. Tension melts from his shoulders in real time. Makes him look even taller where he stands.  

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you say, then note, "Your shoes."

The teasing undertone to your words makes him chuckle. At himself, at the fact that he’d rushed home, despite your warning, with a head full of clamoring thoughts. Thoughts of arriving to you in labor and having to deliver his own child. Or packing you into his truck and needing to pull over and do the very same. There was no middle ground.

He’d dedicated years of his life to working under the most intense pressure, but it was his pregnant wife who’d finally thrown that composure off course.  

Yet here you were pointing out the fact that he had tracked his shoes upstairs.

Frankie crouches to untie his boots before kicking them off his feet. He stumbles in the process and has to brace himself on the sink. The smile already budding on your face blooms into a fuller one when he huffs and peeks over at you. When you straighten up, the water sloshes and reveals more of you chest. 

A long sigh escapes him as he sits alongside the tub and stretches his long legs out in front of him. That’s when a laugh bubbles up your throat. Despite his best efforts to retrain his own amusement, he can’t help but join in. The two of you sit there laughing in a mix of relief and acceptance of the fact that your worlds have only just begun to change. 

A comfortable silence soon settles in the space between you. Frankie gets an almost wistful look about him as he stares straight ahead. 

“What are you thinking about?” you ask after a while. 

He rests his arm on the side of the tub. “Us,” he answers. “Being parents.”  

There’s an understated sense of anticipation in his tone that he still hasn’t been able to put into words. A small hint of apprehension lingers too, but the type that propels as opposed to paralyzes. 

You hum as you run a wet hand over your glistening stomach. 

“I love you,” he continues softly. “I love her.”

He reaches out to splay his large hand over your stomach. You smile as he continues talking, “Love that I get to do this with you.” 

Fondness swells in your chest all the more. Like a third lung set on sustaining you too. 

“I’d kiss you right now, but I don’t know how,” you admit. 

Without hesitating, Frankie shifts so he’s able to steady your chin and press his lips to yours. You lift a hand to rest the tips of your fingers against his scruffy cheek. Frankie hums when you ghost your tongue along his lower lip, only to pull away like you have something to say. Before you can speak, he presses back in for one more soft peck, then touches his forehead to yours. 

You feel yourself smiling. “What I was trying to say,” you start, but Frankie kisses you again because you’re right there, and because he can.

Butterflies erupt all throughout your stomach. 

“Go ahead,” he finally coaxes with a small smile, lips brushing yours. “What were you gonna say, hermosa?” There’s a gruff, honeyed quality to his voice that you’re certain is intentional. 

“That I love you too,” you whisper. 

-

Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all! 

FRANKIE MASTERLIST 

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[sxmmerberries]

Bottled Emotions - choi soobin x reader

✦ genre: angst

✦ pairing: choi soobin as your ex-boyfriend

✦ word count: 1, 559

✦ warning: mentions of depression and drinking

✦ summary: a stranger called your ex, soobin, who you broke up with and ghosted months ago, to take you home as you got drunk at a bar

Soobin was just about to call it a night, but before he could do so, his phone buzzed with an unknown number. He frowned, wondering who would be calling him so late at night. He answered the call and spoke in a cautious tone, “Hello? Who is this?”

“Hey, is this Soobin?,” the unknown voice asked with a hint of urgency in her tone.

"Yeah, it is. Who is this?,” He asked warily, a bit suspicious of the person on the other end of the phone.

“So I met this girl, Y/ N, in the bathroom of the bar. She is really drunk. She apparently came alone, and I went through her phone for a contact to call her and found your number,” the stranger explained.

Soobin's heart clenched as he heard the mention of Y/N's name. The pain of the break up was still fresh in his mind, and he had been avoiding you as much as possible.

He had been trying to focus on moving on, and now he was being dragged back into your world. He sighed, conflicted about what to do. On one hand, he doesn't want to ever see your face again, and on the other hand, he can't just leave you all alone and abandoned at a bar when you were that drunk. He knew what you were like when you get drunk, running off in any random direction and being a cute idiot.

“And what do you want me to do about it?,” He tried to sound nonchalant as if he didn't give a damn about what happened to you even though he was worried sick for you within.

"I was wondering if you could pick her up and take her home. She's a bit of a mess right now, and I don't know where she lives. I don't think she'll appreciate a stranger taking her home,” the stranger spoke in a pleading tone, hoping that Soobin would agree to help.

He unknowingly let out a bitter smile as he reminisced about the times he dragged you to bed after you were drunk and how he helped you with your hangover as you grumbled in the morning or how you used to drunkenly confess all your love for him cutely.

“Fine, I am coming to pick her up. Text me the address,” He sighed, grabbing his car keys and heading out to his car.

As Soobin made his way to the bar, his heart was about to burst with emotions. He couldn't deny the fact that he still cared for you, despite the pain you caused him. He knew that he was doing this as a favour, but he couldn't help wanting to see you again.

It had been months since he had last seen you months since you guys had broken up. Months since he had heard your voice, seen your face. He had spent so much time trying to get over you, trying to move on, and now this. The “Let's never see each other again” rang through his head constantly as he drove.

When he arrived at the bar, he parked his car and got out, walking towards the entrance. He could already hear the loud music and lively chatter coming from inside.

The bar was crowded, with people talking loudly and music playing in the background. Soobin searched for any sign of the drunk, finally spotting you sitting in a corner with an unknown girl standing with her.

He approached her and took the glass away from your hand and smiled at the stranger, “Thank you for taking care of her. I'll take her home now.”

“No problem, I just wanted to make sure she went home safely,” The stranger gave you one last pat on the head and left to be with her friends.

“Soobie, is that you?,” Y/N looked up as Soobin stood in front of you, your eyes widened in surprise.

“Can you walk?,” He asked bluntly, taking in your flushed state.

“Yes, I can,” Your lie was exposed immediately as you tried to stand up from the tool and fell on the ground.

Soobin sighed at the sight before helping you stand up and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes despite your protests and walked out of the bar

He reached his car and carefully placed you in the passenger seat, making sure she was buckled in before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat. The silence in the car was tense, and Soobin couldn't help but steal glances at you as he started the engine to drive away from the bar.

“Soobin? I am sorry,” You apologized in your drunken state, your words slurring over.

“Sorry doesn't fix anything, Y/N. I don't want to hear anything,” He focused on the road, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

You slumped in your seat in disappointment as you felt a pang of guilt in your chest. The rest of the ride was silent with Soobin ignoring your existence and you looking out of the window as the neighbourhood you lived in came into view.

He couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and resentment towards you. He had pushed his feelings for you to the back of his mind, but now, seeing you drunk like this, brought back all the pain he had gone through when you broke up with him.

“I'll just drop her off and never ever see her again,” He thought.

Finally, you reached your apartment building, and Soobin parked the car. He got out and went around to the passenger side door, opening it and helping you out.

They slowly made their way to your apartment door, and Soobin waited as you fumbled with your keys, trying to find the right one. He side eyed you as he huffed in annoyance.

“Just give it to me,” He snatched the keys out of your hand and unlocked the door for you.

He pushed the door open and guided you inside, flicking on the light switch on. Soobin had been here many times before, and the familiar surroundings hit him like a wave of déjà vu.

He helped you to the couch, making you sit down on it before bringing a glass of water for you to drink from the kitchen.

"Drink it all,”

“No, I need to apologise first. I don't think I'll ever get a chance like this ever again,”

"It's a little too late for apologies, don't you think?,” He crossed his arms and looked down at you, with a cold look.

“I am so sorry for everything. I shouldn't have pushed you away or walked away without any explanation that day,” You apologized, staring at the ground, not having the courage to face him directly.

"You think sorry is enough? You think just saying sorry will magically fix everything?,” Soobin let out a bitter chuckle.

“I am so sorry. I didn't want to burden you any further,” You winced, feeling the coldness of his tone.

"Burden? Is that what you think I saw you as? A burden?,” Soobin stared at you blankly.

“I didn't want you to waste your time on me…You didn't deserve to be constantly walking on thin ice because of me. You didn't deserve to be constantly comforting me for things beyond your control. You didn't deserve to be kept awake for nights just so I don't have another nightmare. You didn't deserve to be constantly abandoning things just to take care of me. You deserve so much better, Soobin” Your voice cracked at the end as you kept your tears in.

"You think I didn't want to be there for you? I loved taking care of you. I did that because I love and I care about you,” Soobin knelt down to your level and cupped your cheeks in his hands.

“I wish you'd have just talked to me about it. We could've figured out something together,” He sighed, wiping away the tears that escaped.

“I am sorry for being so selfish, but I miss you a lot. I miss you every day, every hour, every minute, every second. Everything reminds me of you. Please just stay. I am sorry. I won't do it again. I'll do better. Please don't go,” You begged, grasping his hand in yours

"You can't just push me away and then beg me to stay. You broke my heart and ghosted me for months, Y/N. It doesn't work like that,” Soobin removed his hand away from yours, his resolve slowly dissolving.

"I am so sorry, please. I want-no-I need you. I'll do anything you want, please. Please don't go,” You grasped his hand, gripping it tightly as if he'd disappear any second.

Soobin's eyes widened in shock as you begged him to stay. He never saw you this desperate for something ever.

“We need to talk about all this properly. Not like this when you're drunk,” He sighed, pulling you off of the couch and heading towards your room with you following behind him.

“Sleep, we'll talk in the morning,” He helped you get into bed, tucked you in before closing the door behind him and taking a seat on the living room couch.

“This was such a long night,” He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair.

©sxmmerberries

more txt fics

beta reading: @arafilez

networks: @moadiarynet @k-films @kstrucknet @starlit-network

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Wedding bells

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Toto one-shot, let me know what you think:) If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the bridal suite. A sea of ivory tulle and delicate lace surrounded you as you sat before the mirror, heart pounding in your chest. It was your wedding day—the day you had dreamed of, planned for, obsessed over to the very last detail. Yet, instead of excitement, all you felt was an overwhelming sense of pressure.

The makeup artist dabbed at your lips with a final stroke of soft pink, stepping back to admire her work. "You look stunning," she said warmly, but her words barely registered. Your mind was spinning with thoughts of the seating arrangements, the flowers, the music. What if something went wrong? What if the guests didn’t enjoy themselves? What if the cake toppled over before you even got a chance to cut it?

A gentle knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, and your bridesmaid, Anna, rushed to open it. She gasped, spinning toward you. "It's Toto!"

Your eyes widened in panic. "He can't be here! We're not supposed to see each other before the ceremony!"

But before Anna could protest, the tall, commanding figure of your fiancé stepped into the room, his dark eyes locked onto yours. Toto Wolff, ever the composed and confident man, stood in his perfectly tailored suit, his expression unreadable for a moment—until it softened into something achingly tender.

"Toto!" you hissed, scrambling to cover yourself with the sheer robe draped over your wedding gown. "You’re breaking the rules!"

He ignored your protests, closing the door behind him and striding toward you. Anna wisely excused herself, leaving you alone with the man who, in a matter of hours, would be your husband.

Toto reached out, taking your hands in his, his touch grounding you instantly. "Liebling," he murmured, his Austrian accent wrapping around the endearment like silk. "I had to see you."

Your breath hitched as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. "You look breathtaking."

Your earlier worries melted, if only for a moment. "Toto, you’re not supposed to see me before the ceremony. It's bad luck."

His lips quirked into that knowing smile of his. "We make our own luck, schatz. And right now, you look like you need to breathe."

A lump formed in your throat, the weight of the day pressing down on you again. "I just... I want everything to be perfect."

Toto sighed, shaking his head before pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Perfect?" he echoed. "Liebe, the only thing that matters today is that we love each other. Everything else is just noise. If the flowers aren’t right, if the music is off-key, if the entire world falls apart—none of it changes the fact that by the end of today, you’ll be my wife. That’s all that matters."

His words settled over you like a balm, soothing the storm in your mind. "But what if something goes wrong?"

He chuckled, his hands slipping down to your waist as he pulled you closer. "Then we laugh, and we dance, and we celebrate anyway. Because today is about us, not perfection."

Tears pricked your eyes, and you let out a shaky breath. "How do you always know exactly what to say?"

His lips brushed over yours, a whisper of a kiss that sent shivers down your spine. "Because I know you. And I know that you have the biggest heart, the most beautiful soul. And you are mine."

A tear slipped free, but Toto caught it with his thumb, his smile never faltering. "No more worrying, ja? Just enjoy today."

You nodded, your heart swelling with love. "Ja."

His eyes sparkled at your response, and he kissed you again, longer this time, as if he wanted to steal this moment for just the two of you before the world swept you away in the whirlwind of the wedding.

A knock at the door interrupted the intimate bubble you had created. "We need the bride! It’s time!"

Toto sighed, resting his forehead against yours for one last moment. "I’ll be waiting for you at the altar, schatz."

You let out a soft laugh, the nerves that had gripped you earlier now nothing but a distant memory. "I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else."

With one final kiss to your forehead, he stepped back, his eyes lingering on you as he made his way to the door. He hesitated, giving you one last smile before disappearing down the hallway.

You exhaled, a newfound sense of calm settling over you. Because Toto was right. At the end of the day, none of the small details mattered. The only thing that truly mattered was the love you shared, and the future you were about to begin together.

And that was more perfect than anything you could have planned.

@justaf1girl

[lilimaginebean]

reverse trope writing prompt pt.2

note: Dont ever do a course that last 8 hours in a day it’s horrible

REALLY NICE GUY WHO HATES ONLY YOU

MEGURU BACHIRA smiled at everyone but you. He always wanted to talk to everyone but you. You have gone mad. Every time you tried to talk to him, he gave you the dirtiest look. What could you have done? If you knew that he hated you because every time you were with him, his heart beat faster and he thought you were doing some voodoo shit on him to kill him.

TOO MUCH COMMUNICATION

SHEISIRO NAGI was a man of few words, who rarely spoke. But he was lucky, because so were you. Contrary to what others thought, the two of you communicated so well that it was almost as if you were telepathic. A raised eyebrow for 0.2 seconds? He wanted to take a dump. Staring at you in a meeting and squeezing your hand? He wanted to leave. You looked at him with a look of defeat? He hugged you to comfort you. Perhaps neither of you were talkative, but sometimes a sign is worth a thousand worlds.

SOULMATES WHO ARE FATED TO KILL EACH OTHER

MICHAEL KAISER looks at you with pity in his eyes. Oh boy, how did you get yourself into this situation? The two of you, pointing a gun at each other, daring to fire it to see what would happen. Apparently, your target wasn't just the prey, but also the hunter, the Emperor, your boyfriend of a month. "Oh my love, we were getting on so well, I was going to ask you to move in with me, and then it seemed like you wanted to kill me. Not cool, but I can't complain, I'm like you. I guess we will see each other in hell"

LOVERS TO ENEMIES

RENSUKE KUNIGAMI was no longer the man you knew in high school. He changed, his desire to be the hero everyone could count on turned into the most selfish self he could ever be. Those sweet hugs, lovely kisses and gentle demeanour turned into cold answers, no longer caring about your feelings or even loving you. When did this happened? Was it your fault? Why wasn’t he trying to fix things? Why was he letting you go and not fighting for you?You hate him, but as you said, he wasn't the man you knew at school.

TOO HOT TO CUDDLE

SHOEI BAROU who is caring, lovely, great player but all from the top, hot. His body and the way it hugs yours and covers you all from behind while you cuddle. You never thought you could get turned on while cuddling. But the way his hands caress your lower belly, the way he kisses you and the way his hands start to go even lower. Oh damn. He is just too hot to waste. “Again needy? Wow, what’s wrong with you” he said smirking to kiss you again

[luv-lock]

Your context is exactly what I'm saying. It's not true by any means. It's all misinformations. Ubisoft is trying to rewrite history and that's why they're silencing Japanese people who are talking against this game on internet. They even changed the name "Samurai" in Japanese version because they knew it's not true.

Look at some comments from Japanese people:

— Because of you, some people overseas now believe that Yasuke, a black man, was a samurai who significantly impacted Japanese history. This has led to a harmful trend of black supremacists claiming that samurai originated from black people and that Japanese culture is essentially black.

AI-generated images of black samurai are now being spread as if they were historical facts. This is a very serious offense.

— We cannot accept the blurring of lines between fiction and reality.

While Japanese people are very tolerant of creative works, we cannot simply ignore the fact that our country's history is being distorted or grossly misunderstood by so-called historians who are careless about the truth. It is clear that Yasuke was not a samurai but rather a retainer of Nobunaga Oda.

Please understand.

— Oh my god! That shitty white woman in the UBi game was so condescending when she said, "They used to behead people all the time in Japan back then! (So barbaric!)" I rewatched it so many times. If they're going to portray Japan like that, they should at least release the original version in Japan, too!

— They told us that beheading was a daily occurrence in Japan, and now they’re telling us we can't do it in the Japanese version? I distinctly remember players were able to slice through enemies in Tsushima. So, changing "legendary samurai" to "fearless warrior" is the extent of your "modifications"? That’s just double-speak.

— Not content with just one fabricated theory, now they say that beheading is worse than gore? There are no records of a black "samurai" outside of that one fabricated paper. It's annoying how other countries take Assassin's Creed seriously, even though it's supposed to be historically accurate, especially with this Z rating and all the changes. It's different from the previous game. I don't have a problem with the concept, but the changes are in the wrong places.

— You're just trying to add fuel to the fire.

— Okay, I get it. So Ubisoft is trying to divide Japan and the rest of the world, huh? You want us Japanese to just sit back and let Westerners rewrite our history? Ubisoft is a terrible company.

— Of course, the overseas version is probably going to romanticize Yasuke as a 'legendary samurai,' aren't they?

— The product description on Amazon is severely lacking. I have already reported this issue, but please ensure that you address it properly. If you fail to do so, I will report this matter to the Consumer Affairs Agency, the Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry, and other relevant authorities.

— I've been a long-time fan of the Assassin's Creed series and have purchased all previous titles. However, I've decided to wait and see before purchasing Shadows. While I was excited for a Japanese setting, the recent controversies have made it difficult for me to fully enjoy the game. It's disappointing.

— We wanted the Japanese version to be equal in terms of diversity.

Here's a Japanese man who talked many times about this game and everytime they took his video down because he was telling the truth about his own history. Click here to watch the video. He was also called racist by Americans/westerns just because he was telling his own history. As if you guys know our own history better than ourselves. Like I hate it when western trying to tell me my own history which I grow up reading about. I'm not Japanese but I'm Persian and western tried many time to tell me my own history and rewrite it.

Also @nightmaregiver is an Asian and they agree with me.

Also there's a rumors that they're going to delete Yasuke from the game because of the backlash and the fact that it's not historical accurate.

Ubisoft is a horrible company and they did the same with the prince of Persia. Another game that faces backlash and flop. And I'm so happy that they're closing.

STOP SPREADING MISINFORMATIONS. YOU JUST MAKE YOURSELF LOOK STUPID. Because the only place that a black samurai or black Cleopatra hold an argument is in the west (and not even there most of the time if people are actually educated). And it's because of White Saviors and Afrocentrics. Who lie because of their feelings. And I'm sorry if I sound harsh but it's true.

West need to fucking stop doing this shit!

This is not a samurai. This is not a Persian.

And this is clearly not Cleopatra.

How about y'all actually make something about actual black people? How about y'all make something about Muhammad Ali? Or someone else. We have enough black legends. You don't have to take other people's culture and history. Stop doing this shit. You made Persians mad, you made Egyptians mad and now you're pissing off Japanese.

[sunbl3achedfly]

Do the dead comfort you? Pt.2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer does all he can to save you from the hands of a psychotic unsub, and he makes a promise to remain by your side in the aftermath of the ordeal.

Content: Dead bodies once again, (tw) torture, stalking, breakdowns, hospital visits, blood, (tw) sexual assault, trauma, Spencer to the rescue & being a tad protective of the pretty girl he only met once before, the reader realizes she can't use her morbid sense of humor to cope with everything, hurt/comfort I guess?

Author's note: Here’s part two!!! I was listening to Ethel's new album while writing this and holy moly I was in the zone and wrote most of it in one go. (Pulldrone is exactly what was playing when I wrote the scenes while she was kidnapped and I feel like the eery ambiance encapsulates the utter sense of dread and despair that hits the reader once she realizes how serious the situation is). Hope you all enjoy <33

Let me know if you guys want a part 3!!

5,331 words (it’s a long one aha)

part one

masterlist

When you finally managed to open your eyes again, a sharp, dull pain radiated through your skull. The harsh fluorescent lights above didn't help as they glared down at you. At least you weren't on the floor. Nope, just restrained to an ice-cold metal slab. Fancy that. This must be how all my patients feel before I embalm them.

You attempted to look around the room but the bright lights from above prevented you from doing so. As you regained consciousness, you began to realize that both your wrists and ankles were restrained to the embalming table. And you were only in your underwear. The panic had begun to set in and you tugged at the restraints, but to no avail, they wouldn’t budge.

"Struggling won't help", a voice echoed through the room, "I made sure of that."

Your head snapped to the right as you took in the man who now began leaning over you. At first, he didn't even look real. He stood over you, bathed in the cold, sterile glow of the morgue’s overhead lights, his figure stretched and distorted by your disoriented mind. A nightmare stitched together from shadows and flesh, from surgical steel and the sickly scent of embalming fluid. His eyes—God, his eyes—weren’t just looking at you; they were studying you, cataloging every inch of your body as if you were a specimen he was about to dissect.

On any normal day, his face may have been forgettable, the kind you’d pass on the street without a second thought. But at this moment, in this place, it was the only thing in the world. The sharp angles of his cheekbones cast deep, skeletal hollows in his skin, making him look half-dead, like something that had crawled out of the very slabs you worked on everyday. His mouth curled in something that wasn’t quite a smile, wasn’t quite a sneer—just wrong, like he wasn’t used to making expressions that mimicked human emotion.

Then came his voice, it slithered into your ears, so sickly sweet that it made you nauseous, "You’re quite the fighter, aren’t you? But they all stop fighting eventually.”

You tried your best to focus on anything else at that moment, the details of everything else but him. The thin, latex gloves that he wore, they were stretched way too tight across his knuckles. The way his coat —a pristine white lab coat, because of course it was—fluttered slightly as he moved, the motion strangely elegant. You could smell him too. He smelled clean, too clean, like antiseptic and soap, but underneath that all was something rotten, something decayed. Maybe it was just your imagination. Maybe it wasn’t.

As he began mulling over which embalming tool to pick up first, his fingers hovering over them as if one of them was beckoning to be chosen, you realized just how exposed you were. For the first time since waking up, at the mercy of this thing, wearing a man's skin—you started to believe you might actually die here.

The sound of splintering wood as the mortuary door crashed open was deafening. You flinched violently, your body instinctively pulling against the straps that pinned you to the cold metal table. Relief and terror fought for dominance in your chest.

They’re here. Oh God, they’re finally here.

But then, just when you had begun to relax for the first time in hours, you felt the scalpal press harder against your neck. The tip of it broke through skin, not deep, but enough to make your breath catch.

"Don’t move,” the unsub growled under his breath. His voice was sharp, his calm façade cracking under the pressure. You could feel the tremor in his hands now, the desperation radiating off him.

Your pulse thundered, the pain from the cut on your arm flaring as you tried to keep still. The various cuts and injuries that littered your body were nothing compared to the fear the tiny blade at your neck instilled in you. You bit down on your lip to stop it from trembling. Don’t panic. Don’t make this worse. They’re here. They’ll get me out of this. Please let them get me out of this.

"FBI! Drop the weapon!" A commanding voice filled the room.

"Come any closer and I slit her throat!" The man bellowed. Up until this point he had not raised his voice once, and the sheer volume caused you to flinch again, the scalpal breaking through more skin. You could feel a warm liquid trail over your collarbone.

Your eyes darted to the doorway, tears stinging as you caught sight of the dark vests, the guns, the agents—saviors. But the unsub only pressed closer, his body partially shielding you. The scalpel was an unrelenting threat, cold and unmoving against your skin. The sharp sting at your neck anchored you to the moment. A hot tear slipped down your temple. I’m going to die here.

From Spencer's position in the doorway, his sharp eyes took everything in. The unsub’s trembling hands, the scalpel pressed against your throat, your bloodied arm, and—God—your state of undress. His chest clenched painfully, guilt and anger battling inside him. He only hoped the unsub hadn’t gotten too far before they arrived.

She’s absolutely terrified. One wrong move and she’s dead. Come on Spencer, think!

His jaw tightened as he saw the unsub’s gaze flick toward him, possessive and unhinged. Spencer’s hands twitched, his instinct to charge forward barely restrained. Stay calm. She needs you to stay calm.

"You don’t want to do this,” he finally said, his voice softer than usual. He took a slow step forward, keeping his hands visible. Carefully, he raised them, shifting the gun away from the man. He was acutely aware of the five other guns trained on him, ready to fire if he made a wrong move, which was why he was willing to take the risk. “This doesn’t have to end badly. Let her go, and we can talk this through."

There was a slight pause in the unsub's movements.

“You’re in control right now,” Spencer continued, his tone gentle, almost soothing. “But if you hurt her, that control is gone. You don’t want that. You don’t want to make this worse.”

Spencer’s gaze flicked to yours, meeting your tear-filled eyes. You looked at him like he was your only lifeline. The desperation in your expression hit him like a punch to the gut. The only thought running through his mind like a mantra was that he needed to get her out of there, fast.

The tension in the room was suffocating, each second seemed to stretch on for eternity. Then, the unsub shifted slightly, but it was enough for Derek Morgan to lunge forward like a strike of lightning.

The scalpel hit the floor with a sharp clang as Hotch slammed into the unsub, yanking him away from the table. Chaos exploded around you—shouts, the scuffle of bodies struggling—but it barely registered. Your chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, your throat raw as you fought for breath, tears blurring your vision.

Spencer was at your side in an instant, undoing the restraints that held you down, while simultaneously giving you a once-over to take in any serious injuries he may need to keep in mind for the first responders.

You were in such a state that you barely registered whose hands were touching you and your heart rate immediately spiked. Your eyes were shut and you began thrashing on the table whilst whimpering loudly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s over,” Spencer’s voice broke through the haze.

You blinked, realizing he was kneeling beside you, his hands moving to undo the straps that held you down. You flinched as his fingers brushed your wrist, a sob escaping your throat before you could stop it.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. “He can't hurt you anymore. I promise.”

As the final strap came loose, you tried to sit up, but your body wouldn’t cooperate. Your legs felt weak, your hands trembling so badly you couldn’t push yourself upright.

“Here—let me help you.” Spencer’s hands were gentle as he guided you into a sitting position, his movements careful, almost hesitant.

The moment you were upright, you instinctively reached for him, clutching his shirt as your body shook with silent sobs.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you. His vest felt stiff under your cheek, but his touch was warm, steadying. “You’re safe. I promise, you’re safe now.”

You couldn’t stop crying, the reality of everything crashing over you. His hand rested lightly on the back of your head, the other drawing soothing circles on your back.

Spencer’s heart twisted at how small you felt in his arms, how vulnerable. Gone was the sarcastic, spunky girl who had left such a strong impression on him after just one meeting. He held you tighter, his own breath uneven as he fought to keep his emotions in check. She’s okay. She’s okay now. But she’s so scared. I need her to know she’s safe.

When you finally managed to speak, your voice was barely a whisper. “He almost…” Yet another sob prevented you from continuing.

Spencer shook his head, cutting you off gently. “But he didn’t. He didn’t, okay? You’re here. You’re safe.”

You buried your face in his chest again, your fingers clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. And in that moment, he didn’t care about protocol or what anyone else thought. All that mattered was comforting the girl with the shattered spirit in his arms.

The sharp, sterile scent of the hospital was the first to hit you as the nurse wheeled you through the emergency room doors. The fluorescent lights felt too bright, their clinical glow exposing every bruise, every scrape, and every jagged line of your vulnerability. They reminded you of the lights in the embalming room. The embalming room. That man. The tools piercing your skin.

You were vaguely aware of Spencer at your side, walking just close enough that his hand occasionally brushed against the armrest of the wheelchair. You wanted to tell him you were fine, that he didn’t have to stay, but every time you opened your mouth to speak, the words got stuck in your throat. You didn't want to do this alone.

The nurse guided you into a small room, where a doctor was already waiting. Spencer stopped just outside the doorway, shifting awkwardly, his hands buried in his pockets.

“We’ll take it from here,” the nurse said gently, giving him a polite but firm smile.

Spencer hesitated, his eyes darting between you and the nurse. You could see the conflict on his face, his shoulders tense like he was bracing for an argument.

You managed to find your voice, though it came out weaker than you intended. “Spencer…”

His gaze snapped to yours expectantly, his features softening.

“Can you… stay?” The words were barely a whisper, but the way his expression shifted—relief, determination, and something almost protective flashing across his face—made you feel a little steadier.

“Of course,” he said without hesitation, stepping into the room. He pulled up a chair near the bed, sitting close but giving you enough space not to feel overwhelmed.

The doctor began her examination, her voice calm and clinical as she asked you questions. “Any dizziness? Nausea? Are you in pain anywhere besides your arm?”

You answered automatically, your voice hollow as your mind wandered. The doctor’s questions blurred together with the sting of antiseptic on your wounds, and the rustle of the hospital gown you’d been asked to change into felt deafening in the quiet.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the unsub’s hands on you, the way his gaze had stripped you of every ounce of dignity. The memory was suffocating, curling around your chest like a vice.

Spencer’s voice cut through the fog, grounding you. “Hey,” he uttered softly, his brow furrowed with concern. “You okay?”

You blinked, realizing the doctor had finished and was watching you with the same concerned expression.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice lacked conviction.

Spencer didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press. Instead, he waited until the doctor left the room before leaning forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees as he studied you.

After a few minutes of silence, he spoke up again, "You're not fine."

You looked down at your hands, the hospital gown feeling too thin, too revealing, despite being more covered than you were earlier. You didn't know how to respond.

Spencer hesitated, noticing the sudden vulnerability in your expression. “I uh... I need to ask you a few questions… about what happened. It’s just procedure—to make sure this guy gets what he deserves. We don't have to do it now, but I'm here when you're ready.”

The sincerity in his tone made something in you crack. You weren’t ready to talk, not yet, but the way he said it—as if there was no question that he would be there for as long as you needed—made you feel a little less alone.

“You don’t have to stay,” you said quietly, though the thought of him leaving made your stomach twist.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly. “Not until you’re ready for me to, at least.”

You glanced up at him, expecting to see pity in his eyes, but all you saw was quiet determination. It made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t expected.

You took a shaky breath, your hands clenching into fists as you tried to steady yourself. “Ask the questions,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, but firm with determination.

Spencer’s brow furrowed as he leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but insistent. “You don’t have to right now. We can wait until you’re ready. You don’t have to rush through it.”

But you shook your head, a flicker of something fierce in your eyes. “No… I want to do this now. If I don’t… I won’t ever.” The words tasted bitter in your mouth, but you pressed on, your heart pounding as the weight of what you were about to do sank in. “I need to nail this bastard. For me, for them… for everyone he’s hurt.”

Spencer remained quiet for a moment, watching you carefully, weighing your words. Finally, he nodded, his expression unreadable but softening with understanding. “Alright..." he hesitated, "This is going to sound silly, but can you close your eyes for me and tell me... what he did to you?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the request. For a moment, you didn’t know how to react. But the quiet, sincere way he asked you made something inside you settle, just a little. The room felt quieter now, the world shrinking down to just the two of you.

Closing your eyes, you tried to push the memories to the surface, to bring them into focus. Your heart beat faster, but you steeled yourself, knowing this was the only way to make him pay.

"When I woke up from being knocked out… I was tied down to the embalming table in my underwear, the straps were tight," you began slowly, rubbing your wrists absentmindedly. The sensation of the straps still lingered, and it made your skin crawl. "I couldn’t move."

Spencer stayed silent, his gaze never leaving you, his presence grounding you even as the weight of the memories pressed in. "Take your time," he said quietly, voice gentle but firm.

You took a shaky breath, nodding, trying to find the strength to continue. "He... he just stood there for a while, watching me. I could feel his eyes on me, like... he was enjoying it." You paused, swallowing the bitterness in your throat. "I couldn’t even scream. I just had to wait for him to decide what he wanted to do next."

Spencer’s jaw tightened, his mind was piecing it together, filling in the gaps even if you didn’t want him to. But he said nothing, giving you the space to speak. You appreciated that more than you could express.

There was no avoiding it. You had to talk about it. You had to say the words, had to help the FBI put together the full picture. You took a slow breath, trying to keep your voice steady.

“He—he used different embalming tools.”

Spencer looked up sharply, he noticed the pained expression on your face and realised just how hard this was going to be for you.

Your heart started to pound. As soon as you said it, the memories came rushing back.

The metal table was freezing against your bare skin, your body trembling with something beyond the cold. You pulled at your restraints, but they were too tight, digging into your wrists and ankles.

“I’ve always been fascinated by preservation,” the unsub mused, his fingers trailing over a set of gleaming instruments. “The way death can be… delayed. How a body can be made beautiful again.”

You didn’t say anything. Your throat was raw from screaming earlier, and you were running out of ways to keep yourself from panicking.

The unsub turned, holding up an embalming trocar—long, sharp, and glinting under the fluorescent light. “Did you know this is used to remove fluids and gases from a body before preservation?” He traced the tip lightly down your abdomen, not pressing hard enough to break skin. “It’s important to prepare the body properly.”

Your breathing hitched, and you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself not to react.

His expression darkened. “You’re supposed to be still,” he murmured, and without warning, he pressed down.

Pain flared white-hot in your side as the tip of the tool pricked your skin, just enough to draw blood. You gasped, your body instinctively jerking against the restraints.

The unsub sighed, shaking his head. “Messy,” he muttered, wiping the small bead of blood with his gloved hand. “I’ll have to try again.”

You inhaled sharply, coming back to yourself. The hospital bed, the warmth of the blanket, the steady presence of Spencer beside you—it was enough to pull you out of the memory, but your skin still burned where the tool had touched you.

Spencer’s knuckles were white where he gripped his knees. His breathing was slow, controlled, but his eyes—his eyes were burning with something deep and unsettled.

“He used a trocar,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “He—he didn’t go deep, but he wanted to see me flinch.”

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, like he was trying to will away the image forming in his mind. “And the other injuries?” he asked, his voice strained.

You swallowed. “A needle. He… he injected something into my leg. Some kind of preservative, I think. It burned.”

Another flash—

The burn spread up your thigh, a fire beneath your skin. You cried out, muscles seizing, your entire body locking up.

The unsub tilted his head, watching with interest. “Formaldehyde is quite versatile,” he said conversationally. “It won’t kill you. Not yet. But I wonder how much your body can handle before it starts shutting down?”

You bit down on your lip, hard enough to taste blood.

You took a slow, shaky breath, forcing yourself back into the present. The hospital bed. The warmth of the blanket. The steady presence of Spencer beside you.

Spencer’s hands had curled into fists. His jaw was clenched so tightly you could see the muscle twitching.

“What else?” he asked, voice strained.

You hesitated again. “He used the embalming pump.”

Spencer’s breath audibly caught in his throat.

The hum of the embalming machine filled the room, a steady, mechanical noise that only added to the horror of the moment.

You were still strapped down, too weak to fight, but your breath was coming in panicked gasps as the unsub adjusted the tube connected to the pump.

“This is a test,” he murmured, almost absently. “A small amount, just to see how the body reacts.”

You barely processed his words before you felt the cool sensation of liquid seeping into your veins.

Your vision blurred for a moment. It wasn’t enough to kill you—not yet. But it left you dizzy, sluggish, your limbs feeling even heavier than before.

“Fascinating,” the unsub muttered to himself. “I wonder how much you can take.”

You swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "The last thing he did... he told me exactly what he was going to do to me. Everything he'd done to his other victims—every single cut, every injection, every—"

Your breath hitched, your throat closing around the words.

"But I—I was going to be his favorite," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Because I had spunk. Because I fought back."

A shudder ran through you, your entire body recoiling from the memory. You couldn't say the rest. You didn't need to say the rest. The way his voice had darkened, the way he'd described it, savoring every detail like a promise—

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if that could block it out.

Spencer's hand closed over yours, grounding you. His grip was firm, steady, as if willing you to feel something other than that sickening sense of violation crawling under your skin.

“That’s enough,” he said, his voice low but unwavering.

You shook your head, your breathing uneven. “But you need to know—”

“I do know,” Spencer cut in, his voice sharp but gentle. His jaw was clenched, his eyes burning with something unreadable—but underneath it, there was a quiet, unshakable promise. “You’ve given us enough.” He exhaled, slow and controlled, but his next words carried the full weight of his conviction.

“He’s never going to hurt anyone ever again. I swear to you—I’ll make sure he rots in prison for the rest of his life.”

A sob caught in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You weren’t ready to cry—not yet. But for the first time since it happened, you felt the faintest flicker of relief.

Spencer wasn’t just listening. He was hearing you. And he was going to make sure you got justice.

You weren’t alone in this.

And for now, that was enough.

As the night wore on, the hours began to blur together. You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep that night, and as guilty as it made you feel, Spencer didn't seem to mind. Throughout the night, nurses came and went, checking your vitals, re-bandaging your arm, and murmuring reassurances that didn’t quite reach you. And through it all, Spencer stayed.

The hospital room had settled into an almost eerie calm. Machines beeped softly in the background, and the dim lighting made everything feel slower as if the world outside had paused. You were sitting up in the hospital bed, the scratchy blanket pulled tight around your shoulders. Spencer sat in the chair beside you, his legs crossed, thumbing through a book he’d found somewhere in the waiting area at a speed you didn't think was humanly possible.

The silence was interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. The FBI agent that had first pushed the unsub away from you in the embalming room stepped inside. At first, his presence intimidated you, his muscular frame and broad shoulders made him an imposing figure, but there was an undeniable warmth in his deep brown eyes. His smooth, dark skin contrasted with the sharp angles of his jawline, and a hint of stubble shadowed his face. He was holding two cups of hospital jello, one red, the other green.

“Thought you two could use a little pick-me-up,” He said, holding the cups aloft with a charming smile. “It’s not gourmet, but it’s better than nothing.”

You managed to return a weak smile back, taking the red jello as he handed it to you. Spencer set his book aside and accepted the green one without hesitation.

“Thanks, Morgan,” Spencer said.

Morgan gave you both a once-over, his gaze softening when it landed on you. “If you need anything, just holler. But I’ll give you two some space.” He gave Spencer a pointed look as if to silently remind him to keep an eye on you, then slipped out of the room.

You began poking at the jello with the plastic spoon. The silence stretched between you and Spencer, not uncomfortable, just heavy with unspoken things.

"You know", you said finally, your voice a little raspy, “jello might be the most depressing food ever invented.”

Spencer glanced up from his cup, his lips quirking in a faint smile. There she is. “It does have a strange texture. Did you know it’s made from gelatin, which comes from—”

“Animal bones,” you finished for him, giving him a sidelong look. “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

He blinked, a little surprised, then nodded. “Right. I guess... you would know that.”

You smirked faintly, the smallest flicker of your usual sarcasm peeking through. “What can I say? I'm full of fun facts. Comes with the job, really.”

Spencer tilted his head, studying you once again. "Your job... I can't imagine it's easy," he said carefully, his voice gentle.

You hesitated, your spoon hovering just above the jello. For a brief moment, you considered brushing him off with a joke or changing the subject like you usually would. But when you met his gaze, there was something about the way he was looking at you. God, stop looking at me like that. His unwavering, earnest stare made you feel safe enough to answer honestly.

“It isn't most of the time” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “But it’s worth it.”

Spencer didn’t respond right away. Instead, he kept his gaze on you, his expression soft yet intent—like he was trying to unravel everything you weren’t saying. His eyes, sharp with quiet intelligence, searched yours as if they could decode the weight you carried, the thoughts you never voiced, the depth you kept hidden from the world.

There was something about you that fascinated him—not just your words, but the silences between them, the guarded way you spoke about things that mattered. He could tell there was so much more beneath the surface, layers of emotion and experience you refused to share. And yet, just for a moment, it felt like he could see them anyway.

He finally spoke, "Why?"

You sighed, setting the jello cup on the bedside table. “Because… when I embalm and prepare a body, when I make someone look like the person they were before…” You paused, swallowing hard. “I get to give their family one last chance to say a proper goodbye. One last moment where they can see the person they loved, not the person the world left behind.”

Spencer kept his gaze steady as he took in your words. He could tell how much those words meant to you. Surprisingly, his expression held a little bit of understanding and even awe.

"That's... incredible." he said finally, "I had never thought of it that way."

You huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "Yeah, well… not everyone thinks it's incredible. Most people just think it’s creepy."

Spencer’s lips quirked into the smallest smile. "I mean, technically, you do spend a lot of time with dead bodies."

You gave him a pointed look. "And you spend a lot of time profiling serial killers, but you don’t see me calling you creepy."

Spencer tilted his head, considering that for a moment. "Fair point."

A comfortable silence settled between you, the heaviness of the conversation lifting just a little.

Before the conversation could continue you blurted out, "Thank you."

Spencer glanced at you, “For what?”

“For staying,” you said simply.

He hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. “I couldn’t leave,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “Not when you…” He trailed off, looking down at his hands. “I just couldn’t.”

You nodded, understanding more than words could convey. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel completely alone.

As you leaned back against the pillows, your eyes growing heavy, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you were going to be okay.

After your third day in the hospital, you were finally discharged. The hospital doors slid open with a quiet hiss, letting in a crisp evening breeze. You inhaled deeply, filling your lungs with fresh air—something that didn’t reek of antiseptic or overcooked hospital food. The gauze beneath your shirt still tugged slightly with each breath, but the soreness was manageable.

Freedom. Finally.

Beside you, Spencer hovered with the same quiet intensity he’d had when you arrived at the hospital, arms crossed like he wasn’t entirely convinced letting you leave was a good idea.

“You know, I appreciate the escort,” you said, adjusting the strap of your bag over your good shoulder, “but unless you’re planning on kidnapping me back to my hospital bed, I think I can manage from here.”

Spencer blinked. “I just— I wanted to make sure you got out okay.”

You smirked. “What, did you think I’d trip over my own feet and fall into traffic?”

“I— statistically, you’re not at full mobility, and with your pain medication, your reflexes might be slightly impaired—”

You rolled your eyes. “Spencer, I’m not going to faceplant into the street.” Then, after a beat: “At least, not immediately.”

The corners of his lips twitched, like he was trying not to smile but failing miserably.

The silence stretched for a moment. For all his intelligence, Spencer still looked like he wanted to say something but hadn’t quite figured out the words. His hands twitched at his sides, like he was debating reaching out.

You tilted your head at him. “You okay there, Doc?”

He cleared his throat, straightening. “I just— I hope you know that you, um… don’t have to go through this alone.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I was alone in the embalming room with a serial killer, so technically—”

Spencer shot you a look.

You snorted. “Okay, okay, I get it. Not the time."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just meant… I know how trauma can make people isolate themselves, and I just wanted you to know that you have people who care.”

You nodded slowly. There was a warmth in your chest at the sincerity in his voice—softer, earnest.

“Well, in that case,” you said, shifting your weight to your good side, “since you care so much, would you... wanna get dinner sometime?”

Spencer’s mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. “Dinner?”

“Yeah, you know. The thing where people sit at a table, order food, and consume it?” You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I mean, unless you don’t want to—”

“No! I mean— I do! I just—” He ran a hand through his hair, looking both overwhelmed and adorable in a way that made you bite back a grin.

You decided to put him out of his misery. “Spencer," your voice softened, "I’m trying to ask you on a date.”

He froze.

“Oh.”

You smirked. “Yeah. Oh.”

Spencer’s brain seemed to reboot in real time. “I—yes! Yes, I would like that.”

Your smirk softened into something more genuine. “Good. You can pick the place.”

He nodded, still looking slightly dazed. “Right. I, um, I’ll text you.”

You chuckled, stepping back toward the curb where your ride was waiting. “See you soon, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer stood there as you got into the car, still blinking, like he was trying to process what had just happened.

As you pulled away, you saw him through the rearview mirror—standing there, hand running through his hair, a small, boyish smile tugging at his lips.

For the first time in a long time, despite everything that had happened, something felt right.

[milla-frenchy]

Recs | January 25

January readings ❤️

Please, rb the fics you appreciated, that's how they live ❤️🙏

Check the warnings before reading, some of the fics are very dark

Joel Miller

How to break a girl in 10 easy steps | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 @corazondebeskar-reads

joel miller is a lonely old man, but he likes it that way. he has everything he needs: a nice piece of property in the woods, a cozy cabin, and plenty of cash. there is one thing missing, though. one thing he needs that he can't give himself

Borrowed time @aurorawritestoescape

Joel and you are enjoying an ideal vacation together. Warm ocean, white sand, soft kisses, and hot sex make it feel like paradise. But as your time here is running out, the thoughts that you‘ve been trying to keep at bay start eating at your soul

The warden @arcanefox207

Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules

Lost in the dark part 4 @iamasaddie

the one time you decide to cheat on your boyfriend is, of course, the time his dad catches you red-handed. once a normal relationship turns into anything but, and you are forced to face the new reality

Raider!Joel Original (re read ✨) @toxicanonymity

He's a bad guy, and you're his good girl. Joel saves you from bad men, but claims you for himself. His persona starts to crack, but he gets even more possessive. You're his world, and he'll do anything to keep you

Forest floor (raider!Joel) @toxicanonymity

When sweet pea escapes, what if Joel finds her before fedra does?

BDSm chapt 8 | chapt 9 @mountainsandmayhem

After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree

Basement breeder @toxicanonymity

One night early @almostfoxglove

You vow to find out where Joel hides his Christmas gifts while he's away on patrol

Cuddles & hot chocolate @megangovier

You're laid on the bed in a foetal position, hot water bottle resting on your cramping stomach. Joel was downstairs making chili hot chocolate for the both of you

Austin, Texas, on a cloudy january sunday, 2003 @magpiepills

you and Joel go to a movie, he is in love with you

Never took you for a pervert, Miller @pearlispunk

You borrow a jacket from joel, and it returns to him with a stain. he goes crazy over your scent, and he wants more

Let's go @thundermartini

You decide to channel your inner party girl on this Friday night. But things won’t go as planned. You’ll get even more from this night than a dance in a club and free drinks from strangers

No strings to hold me down @baronessvonglitter

Enjoying the freedom of being friends with benefits with Joel Miller, a new emotion flares when you see him out with someone much younger

Sell-out @aquariusmiller

After a smuggler Joel and Tess were working with didn’t pay for his end of the deal, Joel captures his girlfriend, you. Tired of your boyfriend’s scheming ways, you decide to use the situation to your advantage

My Paramour, My Evermore @schnarfer

Joel Miller is the loss of your life

All the good girls go to hell @aurorawritestoescape

You can't stop thinking about your stepdad so you do something risky to have a little more of him. But Joel is not the "little more" kind of guy

The neighbors @iamasaddie

Of rage and ruin chapt 9 @corazondebeskar-reads

Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though

Pants (raider!Joel) @toxicanonymity

Thoughts on hbf!Joel @baronessvonglitter

Reincarnated @joelmillerisapunk

A late-night text from an unknown number stirs up memories you thought you’d buried. It’s been years since Joel walked out of your life, but now he’s back. Old wounds resurface, boundaries blur, and the question lingers: is this a second chance or just another heartbreak waiting to happen?

Not the real deal @itwasntimethatdidit40

Joel convinces you that there’s nothing wrong with a bit of grinding

Joel and Tommy Miller

Collared | Tommy's turn @tateypots

You are kidnapped by Joel and Tommy 3 years after the outbreak.

Javi P

Strangers @joelmillerisapunk

you meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number

A new year's distraction @lotusbxtch

Javi doesn't realize that you've got a surprise waiting for him at home

Don't go @wannab-urs

You and Javier fight in the rain

Left behind @wannab-urs

Cleaning your apartment after Javi leaves the DEA and you

The morning commute part 1 @iknowisoundcrazy

In the midst of escobar’s desperate war for control in colombia, your morning commute is disrupted when you find yourself tangled up in his latest bomb threat

How could you love somebody like me? @itwasntimethatdidit40

Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you

Always tomorrow @604to647

Javier chooses an impossible new year's resolution

Frankie Morales

Extra cream and sugar @itwasntimethatdidit40

Frankie is your barista, every morning you walk into his café asking for a tall coffee with extra cream and sugar. He dreams of giving you another kind of cream…

Eyes on the mirror part 1 | part 2 @itwasntimethatdidit40

You're at a turning point in your relationship with Frankie, he tells you that his mother insists on meeting you

Dave York

Law of attraction chapt 4 | chapt 5 | chapt 6 | chapt 7 | chapt 8 @baronessvonglitter

Attraction isn't an easy thing to ignore. Especially when you and Dave find yourselves entangled in each other's professional and then private lives

The stranger | Unveiled | Cuts deep | Ice cold @punkshort

Fresh on the heels of a breakup, you move into a new apartment in a shady part of town. When a mysterious man breaks in, insisting he knew the prior tenant and needs to recover something left behind, you get caught up in a whirlwind of danger and attraction

Pero Tovar

What's a TomDaya? @604to647

Pero regrets getting into a group chat with your friends

Confession @sawymredfox

A late visit to the farmer's market causes a confession

Tim Rockford

While we were texting @sawymredfox

Help and surprises come from unexpected places

Training days @604to647

Detective Rockford leaves for a weeklong tactical training course and you miss him something fierce

Multi p boys

The detective and the agent part 2 @604to647 (Tim x f!reader x Marcus p)

Your detective boyfriend agrees to share you with his friend in the FBI

Non standard issue @bonezone44 (Ezra x Frankie)

Ezra and Frankie stay behind while the other Triple Frontier boys go out

Unnamed/crack fics/other

Sunrise @sawymredfox (unnamed ppcu)

A little bit of body positivity on a Saturday morning, thanks to your husband

Joel's twin @aurorawritestoescape

Fuck boy @sizzlingcloudmentality (unnamed ppcu)

You meet this guy at a bar, drink too much and he shows you his questionable definition of making out aka storage room sex. spoiler: it's never just the tip

Fine ideas @thebrothel (raider!Carter x you x Sweet pea x Joel, by Carter)

Bad girl shit @thebrothel (Slasher Joel x f!reader, by Night Walks)

Special blend @thebrothel (Carter!raider x vamp Joel)

No strings @thebrothel (Night Walks Joel x f!reader, by Vamp)

The heat @thebrothel (sd!Joel)

Wet booth @thebrothel (bf's dad!Joel x f!reader by thighs out)

Non ppcu

Candles @toxicanonymity (Bo Sinclair)

Lovesick @sunshineispunk (Steve Murphy)

Getting dressed @thebrothel (Ghostface)

My writing

Close-up (Joel Miller x fem reader)

Joel receives a script that takes him back to the memories of your love story. He realizes that out of protective instinct after the break up, he has not been honest neither with his own feelings nor with you

Fics recs

[cosmerelists]

Observations of an Employee at a Trampoline Park (That is Frequented by Cosmere Characters)

Characters at a trampoline park requested by @queenfishiethemagnificent :)

[This post contains some WAT-jokes! Specifically in the entries for Szeth, Leshwi, & Kaladin/Syl, just in case you want to skip those!)]

At a trampoline park somewhere in our world there works an innocent employee who keeps a diary about what they experience at their job. Here are some of the observations on the Cosmere characters who inexplicably show up at this trampoline park.

1. Szeth [warning: Wat spoilers]

That bald guy (Seth? Zack?) was back again today. I have never seen anyone bounce so seriously. I don't know how to describe it, exactly. He never smiles or laughs; he bounces like it is his Job to Bounce and he Must Take It Seriously.

But also he's really good at it? I feel like he must have trained as a dancer or something because he's actually really graceful, always landing on his feet and then soaring right back into the air, like a beautiful bald kangaroo.

SO serious though!

2. Ann

Oh man it was the saddest thing today. There was this woman who came in really excited to try our Extreme Trampoline Dunk Zone--you know, where you bounce up and can dunk a basketball. She was like, "Oh yeah, I'm great at making baskets" and paid for the entrance and everything and then I watched her miss. Every. Single. Throw. S-She kept at it, though! But, like, I didn't think it was possible to miss that many in a row...

After like the saddest half hour of my life, her friend came by and brought her glasses. She did WAY better after that!

3. Elhokar

That guy who broke his leg came back!!! I honestly can't believe it, since when he left he was saying that it must have been the "assassins" trying to get him "again," and he seemed really upset and also it's kinda horrific when bones break here.

But he was back, and much calmer, and said he was sorry for making a fuss and also did I want to feel his leg because it's "really funky feeling now." I said no, and he nodded gravely, and went off to bounce I guess.

Weird guy. Seems to mean well. I hope the assassins don't get him, I guess.

4. Vin

I had to kick someone out today :( I call her Coin Girl. She kept, like, throwing coins down onto the trampoline! She said it made her fly higher which, like, isn't how science works?

To be fair, she did gather up all the coins she was throwing down. Kinda weirdly so...like she'd snatch them up almost as if they were being magically drawn directly to her...which is also not how science works!

And also to be fair, she was able to jump almost alarmingly high... And it was weird how the coins were almost driven down into the trampoline like they were being pushed by a great force...

But still! Throwing change around on the trampolines is NOT okay!

5. Wax

Okay, is coin-throwing like a meme or something now? A tiktok challenge? Because I had to kick someone ELSE out today! And this guy was old!! He had kids and a wife and everything!! And he was ALSO throwing coins around and then soaring up really high into the air while holding his kid who was shrieking in laughter and it WAS really cute but again! No! Throwing! Coins! In! The! Trampoline! Park!

Maybe I need to make a sign...

6. Adolin

When this very buff guy came in and wanted to try the Battle Beam (where you fight with padded sticks while standing on this beam over a pit of foam cubes), I wanted to be like, "You know that's for kids, right?" But instead I just pointed the way.

I peeked in later, and this guy was letting the little kids WAIL on him and kept dramatically "dying" and falling into the foam pit. The kids LOVED him. It was super sweet.

7. Sarene

Ha ha as if in DIRECT contrast to yesterday we had this woman come in today who also wanted to try the Battle Beam only this lady was MERCILESS. She was knocking kids into the pit left and right. To be fair, she was also giving them tips on their stance and stuff, so I bet she teaches fighting or something, but mostly it was hilarious to see her sending kids flying left and right.

The kids seemed to like that too, actually. Everybody likes to be thrown into a foam pit sometimes.

8. TenSoon

A dog tried to get into the trampoline park today. I was like, "Uh, are you with someone" and I would SWEAR he shook his head!!!

Anyway, we don't get dogs come into the trampoline park, and for some reason I told him that, and he walked away.

Weird.

9. Yumi

Okay most impressive dodge ball feet to date. So in our dodge ball area you basically bounce around and try to hit people with balls, blah blah blah. But also if you CATCH the ball when it's thrown at you, the thrower is out.

You should have seen this woman!! She was, like, catching ball after ball after ball. I swear she ended up with like a dozen of them, stacked high in her arms, WHILE BOUNCING!!

How did she do that?? She's got to be some sort of master stacker!

10. Leshwi [warning: Wat spoilers]

Most people wear tights or shorts or something you can move in if they come to a trampoline park. Not this lady! She came in wearing a dress whose train was like eight feet long, I swear. Maybe it was a wedding dress or something?

Then she went straight to our High Bounce area and started jumping. I'll admit that when she reached the highest point, and the train of her dress was like flowing down around her, it did look pretty cool.

She was also humming the whole time, and the melody felt really sad somehow. If that was a wedding dress, I don't think it worked out. :(

11. Lift

Had a teenager come in today wanting to try our Ninja Obstacle Course. I gave the safety spiel and she was like, "Don't worry. I'm stormin' graceful" (is that what kids these days say instead of "fucking"?).

And to be fair, she DID complete the course. She also scooted on her butt over any balance obstacle. But you know what? Whatever works! Good job, kid!

12. Kaladin & Syl [warning: Wat spoilers]

Okay, so the most gorgeous couple came in today--like, I don't know if they WERE a couple; I just mean they were both gorgeous and came in together, you know? The man was very tall and muscular and had luxurious hair, and the woman was wearing blue body paint (look, it worked) and a blue dress and wow. They bounced on that trampoline like it was a dance, and they seemed to be having a fantastic time. You know how some people seem to BELONG in the air? These two did.

I could have watched them bouncing together all day.

[salty-scars01]

Boyfriend Headcanons • Kn8 Boys

I WANT WHOLESOME FLUFFY STUFFS SO BAD BUT ALL I SEE IS SMUT so I've decided to write some more fluffy things so I can giggle at my writing later. And maybe cringe in a few days.

A/N: This is a bit of a long one

Characters: Kafka Hibino, Reno Ichikawa, Iharu Furuhashi, Aoi Kaguragi, Haruichi Izumo, Soshiro Hoshina, Gen Narumi

※ Kafka Hibino

On a scale of 1-10?

100000000

He gives 110% in any and all situations

Date nights? You bet

Kisses? Anywhere and everywhere

Gifts? Nothing expensive, but always ever so thoughtful

WET kisses (to the cheek) just to mess with you

He LOVES to make you laugh too

And he's full of dad jokes

KING of praise and compliments

Will not, cannot go a day without giving at least three compliments to you

Says "I love you" as many times as he possibly can, and even though he says it a lot, you can always tell he means it, even if it's just over text

He'd also pull out a chair for you at restaurants, even if it's McDonald's or something

He's not the jealous type, but he is a bit insecure about your relationship because he has no idea how someone like you could be into a geezer like him

He will absolutely hold your hand and be a clown about it

If you're walking around, he swings your hand and might even lift your arm up to let you hop off of a sidewalk curb if you're that type of person

Arguments and fights are not something he enjoys, so if a problem ever does arise, he'll never raise his voice, and he tries to calmly discuss the issue(s)

Freaking cuddle monster

Literally and figuratively

He would trust you to know about his Kaiju secret whether you're in or out of the defense force, but only once your relationship becomes serious

And that brings me back to my previous point; he'd absolutely love to cuddle in or out of his kaiju form

I like to think that since his kaiju skin is more like armor or scales, he finds the comfort of your soft skin against his full-bodied hardness

He's also willing to go full kaiju-mode to protect you if you're ever in danger

※ Reno Ichikawa

He's so sweet omg

He's not always shy in your relationship

Not too clingy either

When you start dating, he's more hesitant to do anything in public; holding your hand, any sort of kisses, even simple touches are nerve wracking for him, just because he's not too sure of himself, or if he'd be crossing any boundaries

Once your relationship becomes serious though, he's less reluctant to do things with you in public, but he'll always ask first

He definitely loves little date nights. Nothing too crazy

If you do go out to eat or something, he's the type to say something to the server staff if your order got messed up

A movie and some cuddling king of guy

He likes to bring you little things as gifts, saving the flowers for special occasions and random surprises

Things he likes to gift are things like trinkets, keychains, simple jewelry, even some small cute plushies he thinks you might like

Gods forbid if you're in danger, because he'd let the world freeze over before you ever got hurt and it's kinda hot

※ Iharu Furuhashi

Puppy love puppy love puppy love

Plus, he likes a little teasing

And he's loud. So loud... But it's endearing

He loves to shower you in compliments when you get a private moment, and he loves to make you blush and laugh, especially out in public

He's also the jealous type, but just a little

If someone is trying to hit you up or touch you, he just materializes by your side and puts his arms around your waist and yells something like, "They're taken!"

He dotes on you most of the time, doesn't matter if it's in public or in private, if you show any signs of discomfort or if you say anything as simple as "I'm thirsty," he'll go and immediately get you whatever it is you need

He's the kind of boyfriend to let you drink out of his bottle/cup just so he doesn't have to leave you by yourself

He would also definitely talk your ear off from time to time, mostly ramblings about nothing

You can't convince me he doesn't have at least a sprinkle of ADHD

He's a clingy one, but as soon as you say you want your space, he's two feet away already

Lowkey an unhinged gentleman and respectful

Definitely a cuddle monster

But he bites too

He's not huge on gifts, but only because he's worried you won't like what he brings you

If you so much as mention wanting or liking something, he'll go and get it for you the next chance he gets

He doesn't like arguments as much as Kafka doesn't

He'd try to rationalize and calm you down before he discusses the issue

I like to think that he's more than a little insecure about his combat power, especially since he has to watch his comrades around him grow stronger by the day

If you're ever in danger, he wouldn't hesitate to reach you and do his best to protect you

The issue is I feel like he'd also be the type to sacrifice himself for you, as much as he hates the thought of leaving you alone, he'd rather see you safe then wind up with both of you dead

Happy thoughts...

I have a headcanon for him that if he gets a special weapon or power, it'd be fire themed to further push the "rivals" thing with Ichikawa and he'd probably yap about to you, telling you and Ichikawa that this just heats up their rivalry (no pun intended)

He'd get you a ring too just because he thinks it'd look good on your finger

※ Aoi Kaguragi

Lowkey kinda soft

But also, scary dog privileges

He may be a big boy, but he likes his quiet moments with you

He likes to listen to you talk while he just holds you

He'll nod along and hum here and there, but he makes sure to actively listen, even if he's so comfortable that he could fall asleep

And he every so often might whisper a compliment into your ear

Instead of itemized gifts, he'd bring you coffee or tea, or whatever your favorite food/drink is

That and things that can be of use to you

Being ex-military, he likes to bring you things that you would find useful

He's not a big fan of bringing chocolates and flowers, but he will if it's a special occasion

He likes cuddles, but more than that he likes holding you in his lap with his arms around you

He likes to make you feel warm and protected

He really likes to put his face in your hair too

Not a big date night guy, but he does especially love quality time

This man will shake heaven and earth to protect you

I also have a headcanon that if he gets a special power/weapon that it'll be earth/rock/stone themed

He's the type to carry you if you get injured

He probably also knows at least the basics of first aid as he is ex-military

※ Haruichi Izumo

He is a romantic

He does like his dates, but he won't go anywhere too fancy or expensive, just because he wants you to love him and not his family name or money

The same thing applies to gifts, he won't go out of his way to get anything expensive, but he keeps it thoughtful and simplistic

If you happen to want something badly enough that is on the high-priced side, he'd get that for you just to see you happy

He loves it when you use his first name when you tell him you love him because of this too. It makes him feel special because he is

He loves to give compliments too. From things as simple as, "That looks good on you," to "You make the world better just by being in it."

Can be kind of cheesy with it too

I can also see him reciting poems to you every once in a while, while curled up with you and his face buried in your neck or shoulder

He's the type to bring you a single red rose, or a whole bouquet, and bring new ones whenever yours start to wilt

I also like to think that he would love to stargaze but maybe I'm just projecting

He's also a little bit of a tease

Nothing like Hoshina would be though

He'd tease if he sees a blush, or you get flustered

He also likes to tease with kisses

He likes to go on little coffee or cafe outings

He wouldn't call them dates himself, but they kind of are

Whenever you do go out to something like a restaurant, he'd pull out your chair for you

He, as the others, would absolutely HUNT DOWN any kaiju that dare threaten you

But he'd play it off like "of course I did," afterwards

He's not super cuddly outright, but he'll always be open to it after a rough day or just if you ask

Though he does particularly like to lay his head on your shoulder

He likes the little touches, and doing things like laying in your lap or playing with your hair

※ Soshiro Hoshina

TEASE

In every sense of the word

Teases about everything

And he especially likes it if you can pick back at him

If you manage to fluster him, he's guaranteed to fall into the pit known as "Love" and he will NEVER be able to get out

Not that he wants to

He likes compliments, both giving and receiving, but especially receiving

Tell him that his muscles look good or that he's hot

Stroke his ego, I dare you

He's guaranteed to get you back

He probably wants to take you on dates, and by that, I mean hang around with you all day and maybe cuddle a little bit, but he's too swamped with work most of the time

He's also probably a little reluctant to make your relationship serious just because of the dangerous nature of his work, but he falls just a little bit harder if you still want to be together knowing the risks

Speaking of, he's a big risk taker

In the sense that he'll do things to test you. Everything from a kiss in front of his whole squad to jumping off of a twenty-story building with you in his arms to get away from a kaiju

Honestly, being with him is like being on the craziest roller coaster you've ever seen

He also can be soft

I like to think that he's a cuddler when he's sleepy

I wouldn't say he's necessarily touch-starved, but it's definitely comforting to be able to hold someone at night and have someone to come home to. Especially after particularly dangerous or long missions

He will literally never ever tell you, but you're his little slice of heaven. His sanctuary. His happiness

Danger be damned if you're in trouble. He'll take down a kaiju of any size if you couldn't defend yourself

Then this asshole would poke at you for it. "You really couldn't take that thing down?" While internally worrying about you

※ Gen Narumi

You may as well be dating a goblin

I mean, you signed up for it so you can't exactly complain

He's a gremlin, a creature, a thing, but he's a thing you love

Especially when he's gaming, and he turns to face you with his eyes wide and a handful of chips or junk food hanging from his lips

He reminds me of a lizard somehow

He'd be the type to offer you food only after he's put half of it in his mouth and give just the most shit-eating grin you've ever seen

And then he'd be kind of shocked and impressed if you actually take it out of his mouth

He might clean up his office a little bit for you too, a little bit

He doesn't exactly do dates, but he'd enjoy playing multiplayer games with you

He's also not super big on gifts, but I'd like to think that if you get into a serious relationship, he'd buy a second custom console controller and a second pair of switch controllers for you

I have literally no reason for this one, but he'd LOVE it if you told him his eyes were pretty

He'd fall head over heels with someone who either a) got flustered nearly every time he poked fun, or b) someone who could keep up with his rat antics

In battle, he has faith that you'll be able to help yourself, but he does keep an eye on you and doesn't stray too far if possible

If you end up biting off more than you can chew though, his gun-lance-sword thing will be the only warning you get before that kaiju is in a billion pieces before you

I feel like he'd also do a quick check up on you, like a chaste "You good?" and then bully you (affectionately) similarly to Hoshina

He's also not very cuddly, aside from holding you on his lap or letting you lay your head across his legs every now and then

He'd share a single person sleeping bag with you though

[5targh0st]

NUMBER ONE GIRL

58. called it (written)

prev // m.list // next

"So," Ryujin takes the seat in front of Hyunjin, "what did you want to talk about?"

"I can't do this to you." He looks distressed.

"What?"

"I don't wanna sound like a narcissistic asshole but I think you like like me and I feel like I'm leading you on."

Now it makes sense. All of Hyunjin's mixed signals and awkward advances followed by radio silence. Of course, Ryujin has to admit he's right. She likes him a lot.

"Why?"

"Cause I have someone else in my mind right now. I like you, I really do; you're amazing and literally everything I've ever asked for, but-"

"You have feelings for Yn." She interrupts softly. She's not blind. She's noticed the way he looks at her now friend.

Hyunjin's voice is barely above a whisper. "Why would you say that?"

"Cause I've been there." She's honest. "Look, I've known Yeonjun for basically my whole life and there was a time when I thought I was in love with him. Maybe I was, I don't know."

How cliche can that be? Hyunjin, however, is fairly surprised by her words.

"You confessed?"

"Absolutely not. I realized I wanted to keep him in my life forever and relationships are complicated. I love him, he's my favorite person ever. But it's a different type of love." She's so sincere and wise, that's why he likes her, but he doesn't know if he can love her.

"What do you mean?"

"I want him to be happy. I don't wanna be with him romantically, but I do wanna be beside him every step of the way. I'm not sure if my feelings where ever romantic but right now they're not. Now I understand there are very different types of love. He found someone and one day I'll do the same but we'll always be together cause we're more than family."

It makes sense. He wants to see Yn happy. His love for her is not the selfish kind. He even likes Yeonjun, he's perfect for her. Different types of love, he knows it in theory, but he never stopped to think about it before.

"You thinks that what I feel for YN?" He just wants someone to give him the answers.

Ryunjin reaches for his hand and smiles at him. "I think you're a good guy and that you love her deeply, but you're the only one who can be sure of what kind of love that is."

"How?"

"Just feel." She says.

"Thank you." He caresses her knuckles.

"For what?"

"Listening and being understanding. For being you."

She laughs and he loves that sound. Love. He doesn't know how or why, but the sudden urge of farting his shit together invades him.

"Let's just have fun together. Today the world doesn't exist. You can worry about everyone else tomorrow."

notes:

we love love 😫

beomgyu was definitely screaming when he saw the TS reference

ryujin deserves everything in this world

taglist: open! (17/50)

@estella-novella @poetryforthesad @lisaswifey @angelzforu @ihrtlix @gloriousqueenking @domfikeluva @circus-of-thoughts @conwunder @miniature-tragedy @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sh0dor1 @yourenzoo @tkshairband @realrintaro @castingjinx @amara-mars @hwangrfrnd @nujeskz @jisungs-iced-americano @zeizeisjy @va1entinaa @beomgyusluver @to-toad @akindaflora @hoefororeo @mandydxndy @nyanamii @delulu4-life @thatonexcgirl @starsunoo @4lndr17 @nbjch05

[thaliashifts]

As much as I want to believe mattheo riddle is this big bad, angry guy who fights anyone in his eye sight peripheral and all....I can't

Mattheo riddle is like a sheep in wolf's clothing, you won't step all over him correct, but seriously think about it, mattheo riddle yearns for gentle love, he worships the ground you walk on, he sees you and only you.

Imagine:

After your most exhausting classes, all you can think about is the urge to drag your weary body back to your dorm and let your bed envelop you in its comforting embrace. The thought of dinner and socializing with friends—let alone your boyfriend—fades away into the background. For a fleeting moment, you relish the idea of solitude. Finally arriving at your room, you’re greeted by the serene quietness that now fills the space, as your roommates have ventured out for dinner. With a relieved sigh, you toss your bag onto the floor, its contents spilling slightly as you flop onto your bed. But just as you sink into the soft sheets, you’re suddenly met with an unexpected gasp and a surprised push that jolts you out of your momentary bliss.

Jerking awake, you throw back your covers with a start, only to find your drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend lounging on his elbows, his tousled hair framing his face in a messy yet alluring way. "What the fuck, Y/N?" he huffs, his voice a mix of sleepiness and curiosity, free of any real irritation. You can’t help but smirk as you retort, “No, Mattheo, YOU what the fuck? You're sprawled out in MY bed.” There’s an undeniable playfulness in your tone, echoing the energy of the moment.

You sit on the bed, slipping off your shoes, turning to look at him; It’s mesmerizing how he looks at you, as if he could lose himself in those depths forever. The warmth of his gaze sends a surge of vulnerability through you; it makes him weak in the knees, breathless as he tries to fathom the beauty that is you. “Hello? Earth to Mattheo,” you tease, waving your hand in front of his entranced face, breaking the spell that binds him for just a fleeting moment.

Unfortunately for you, he’s quick and strong, effortlessly lifting you off the spot on the bed you've claimed, and trapping you in his embrace. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, a soft hum of contentment escaping his lips. The moment he hears your laughter—a sound that sends butterflies fluttering through his entire being—he can’t help but smile. It’s a laugh so distinct, so uniquely yours, that he could pick it out in a crowded room. That precious sound is all he ever wants to hear. Mattheo is the type who just can’t keep his hands to himself. They roam freely across your body, driven by a need that’s impossible to contain. How could he resist? It’s you—his forever connection. Pinkies interlinked, knees brushing, fingers intertwined in a gentle dance of intimacy. He craves every touch: hand-holding, cuddling, stealing kisses. To him, there’s no one else that matters. In his world, there’s not a trace of meanness—at least, not when it comes to you. But beware, should someone dare to hurt you, they’ll unleash a side of him that’s fiercely protective. He’ll go to battle, defending what he loves most.

They might as well be trying to tame a dragon. No matter how much time has passed—two weeks, two months, two years, even two decades—his grudge remains as fierce as ever. The moment he discovered the betrayal of your ex, who had the audacity to cheat, your former boyfriend vanished without a trace. All that was left in his wake were two severed fingers, hauntingly marked with his initials, offering just enough evidence for the authorities to begin piecing together the chilling mystery of his disappearance..

[dinosus]

Playing Favorites, Are We ? 𓂃 ࣪⋆💿˚ ༘

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ Cobra Kai! x Reader Summary : How each Cobrai Kai character might feel if the reader called them their favorite person! Pairings : Hawk[Eli], Miguel Dias, Robby Keene, Demetri Alexopoulos, Samantha LaRusso, Tory Nichols x Reader Warnings : SO FLUFFY WILL MAKE YOU SQUEAL

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Hawk (Eli) ☠︎︎ ⋆⭒˚.⋆

-Bro FREEZES. Like, fully short-circuits. -His cocky smirk? Gone. His usual confidence? Nowhere to be found. -“Wait, me? Your… favorite?” His voice is softer, like he’s making sure he heard you right. -Tries to play it cool—leans back, crosses his arms—but his ears are bright red. -Inside? Absolute chaos.

She really said that… I’m her favorite??

If you’re dating? Oh, he’s using this against you forever.

"Damn, babe, didn’t know you were so obsessed with me.” But he’s grinning like an idiot the whole time.

-If you’re just friends? Oh, this is dangerous. He’s never gonna stop thinking about it. -Later that night, staring at his ceiling: Favorite person, huh?

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ Miguel Diaz ✧˖°🌻

BLUSHES. SO. HARD.

His entire face lights up like a Christmas tree—he literally can't stop smiling.

"Wait—seriously? Me?" His voice cracks a little, but it's adorable.

If you're dating, expect a bone-crushing hug and a million kisses on your forehead.

"You're my favorite too, you know that?" 🥺

If you're just friends?

He grins like an idiot, rubs the back of his neck, and probably says something super sweet like,

"Wow, that—uh, that means a lot. You’re seriously the best.”

Miguel Diaz is WEAK for words of affirmation. Congrats, you just made his entire week.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Robby Keene .☘︎ ݁˖ᯓ★

Oh, you wanna see Robby Malfunction™? Say this to him. -He doesn’t know how to react at first.

His whole life, people have left him. He’s never really been someone’s favorite anything.

So, his immediate reaction? Skeptical.

Is she messing with me?

But when he realizes you actually mean it?

His walls crack. Just a little.

His lips twitch into a soft, genuine smile.

"Damn. I—uh, I don’t know what to say.” - If you’re dating? He kisses you. No hesitation.

“You’re my favorite too. Like, by a mile.”

If you’re just friends? He nudges you playfully.

"You sure you got the right guy?" But deep down? He's touched. Like, deeply.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Demetri Alexopoulos ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

"Excuse me, can you repeat that?" -THIS BOY IS FLUSTERED. Immediately goes into ramble mode.

“I mean, I totally get it, I’m an excellent friend, I provide top-tier sarcasm and intellectual conversation, but I just wasn’t expecting you to outright admit it—”

You have to physically stop him before he spirals too hard. - If you’re dating?

Oh, he’s writing this in his journal. He’s gonna bring it up years from now like,

"Hey, remember that time you said I was your favorite person? Yeah, that was the highlight of my existence."

If you’re just friends? Expect him to bring it up ALL THE TIME.

“Well, as your favorite person, I feel like I should have first dibs on the last slice of pizza.”

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Samantha LaRusso ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

Blinks. Then smiles so wide her cheeks hurt. -"Oh my God, that’s so sweet—COME HERE." -Immediate hug. No hesitation. -She’s squeezing you like she never wants to let go. -"You’re my favorite too, duh!" 🥺 -If you’re dating? Happy giggles and nonstop kisses.

"You can’t just drop a cute bomb like that on me!"

If you’re just friends? This means the WORLD to her.

“I swear, you always know how to make my day.”

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Tory Nichols˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

-Pauses mid-action.

If she was tying her gloves? She just stops.

If she was drinking water? She chokes on it.

Looks at you like you just spoke another language.

“Wait- You serious?”

Tory has never really had anyone say that to her. Ever. -If you’re dating? Oh, she’s pulling you in for a kiss.

Slow, deep, and full of emotion.

"Say it again."

-If you’re just friends?

She gets awkward for a second, then smirks.

"Damn right I am." But inside? She’s SOFT.

Later, alone in her room, she’s just sitting there like, Huh. I’m someone’s favorite. ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

WASSUP BABY >:D i need another version of 'Favorites' in cobra kai, last one i had done it in Arcane lol LEMME KNOW IF YOU WANT PART 2- WITH THE NEW CHARACTERS OR ANYONE ELSE :D stay hydrated 🌊 ignore these haha <3

[tanukitsuneko-suki]

build episode 34 thoughts:

- episode title "the separated best match" so uh does anyone want to tell me something :-|

- my son's so fucking stupid that the moment a person introduces himself with 3+ names he starts to get confused. and i say that with love . i love him so much

- ENOUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GUARDS SHUT THIS MAN UP IMMEDIATELY!!!!!!!!!!!!

- love the implication that he's apparently a certified planet ending villain freak but he still has to iron his own clothes. being a supervillain doesn't pay well you guys. that's how you know he's doing it for the love of game

- I'D BURN THROUGH EVERY SOUL I KNEW. IF I THOUGHT THE FIRE WAS WARMING YOU

- haha..wait..if evolt has the evol driver + the pandora box is here + the other bottles will arrive soon + AND banjo's in the area??? aw fuck off LMFAOOOOOOOOOOO

- me pretending idgaf so evolt leaves banjo the fuck alone:

- i just. started laughing uncontrollably. out loud.

- CLOSE ENOUGH WELCOME BACK PARAEMUUUUUUUUUUUU

- well i uhh...i have Thoughts

- would stalk x banjo be technically selfcest or are they mixed with enough external elements for it to count as a usual ship. is what i wanted to ask. um

- (scratches head) i need to rewatch ex-aid after this i think

- if i have a dollar for every time a villain is revealed to be the enemysona of my oshi i would have two dollars......

- don't get me wrong i am deathly entertained and i'm currently running some evil ryusen plots in my head atm and it's killing me how the one part of evolt who had forgotten who he was and met sento managed to learn how to continue loving and hoping the best for a world that has done nothing but wrong him but like. i need a moment. or two

- i mean. he could be lying you know. he doesn't really have a very good track record when it comes to trust, banjo-kun

- man. okay

- i should repost that one reply i made about selflessness vs selfishness parallels when it comes to senryu bc this time i have receipts. what the fuck man

- fourth gay montage

- senryu should just start dating already. what the fuck

- my son's gonna fucking die

- i have a bad feeling. banjo's left standing there but. uh. mm.

- he... he's not... it can't be. right??

- haha it's not like they fucking merged finally or whatever bc banjo reached the correct hazard right lol haha. lol. no. i'm not trying to escape from playing the episode. totally

- i can't fucking do this. i can't fucking do this

- what happened to his hair lmao

- clearly fucking not

- HIS HAIR LOOKS SO UGLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY TAKE IT BACK EVOLT YOU FUGLY ASSSSSSSSSS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

- my wife..... come back from the war....

- the voice is taking me tf out

- WIFE THIS ISN'T YOU. COME BACK TO MEEEEEEEEE

- sento waking up to a fugly ass hairstyle LMFAOOOOOO

- EIJI AKASO YOU SHOULD'VE STOOD YOUR GROUND. THIS HAIR IS UGLY. EIJI WHY DID YOU LET THE HAIRSTYLISTS GET AWAY WITH THIS. EIJI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- on closer inspection it's not that bad but i'm deathly entertained by this plot twist so he should've been hotter for maximum effect!!!!!!!!

- anyway i need evolt to die

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter 30

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

Mr. Charles was being a dick this morning and decided to start screaming (meowing) at 5:30 am. Normally this is fine, I wake up at 5:30 but it's the weekend. I can't believe my son betrayed me so badly. So unfilial.

To cope I have a lady grey tea with some milk.

Let's get into chapter 30!

I would be so mad too if I found out my father (who has the authority and ability to take action) knew about Yong'an and just didn't react. p36

Okay but I don't agree with the sate preceptor at all. Him being all "you're too close to the issue to be reacting". Like I think it is important to stay at least a little human and in touch with people to know what they need. I'm curious to see how this turns out, but damn. I am sure there are pieces missing. No one else is doing anything, at least that we know, for Yong'an. p37

"As long as I act, there will be results, every little bit counts. Even if I can only save one person, that's still better than indifference and inaction" p38 I love this so much. Fuck I think this book is going to wreck me not even for the content, but because it feels like it's drawing a lot of parallels to the state of the world at the moment.

Damn. The fact that this issue became one with an impossible solution is rough. Like 0 ways to help these people. oof. At least not able to support them without the risk of more. This is the Trolley Problem. p42

Another downer omg.

I am glad these chapters have been hard but also short because it's been giving me time and space to take them in. oof my guys. Yall weren't lying. I truly am not surprised that Xie Lian is struggling with his mental health because the weight of carrying these disasters would be enough to ruin anyone.