#but also just the idea of that binder is like crack to me I NEED IT

[dooberific]

I absolutely love your writing!! Idk if you're open for request, but if you do, can I request doctor!reader with Harumasa? He loves to go to infirmary not only he can pretend to be sick but also just to see them

Double trouble cause I thought it sounded like a fun combination. Does using a 1988 song name as the title make me sound old? 🤔

❝ 𝘉𝘢𝘥 𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯' 𝘠𝘰𝘶 ❞

harumasa x afab!doctor!reader

genre: fluff, I projected a little bit into this???

summary: if being in love with your cute doctor wasn’t bad enough, she’s completely clueless when it comes to romance

wc: 1.6k

The end of your pen tapped thoughtfully against your plush lower lip as you skimmed your notes. Once. Twice. Your eyes dart to the opened paper file on the counter beside you.

 Even cracked it was a solid two inches high and crammed full of health histories, specialty consult results and prescription sheets all bound haphazardly with what looked like ties from a bread bag. You really needed to get an actual binder to hold it all, but as of now you had other problems to address.

“Well,” you swiveled your chair around as you clicked your pen, eyes still skimming your intake sheet before you looked up with a smile, “Good news is nothing seems to be wrong. Well, let me rephrase that, wrong when compared to your baseline.” 

It was an important differentiation to make when you were dealing with one of your most tasking patients. In your two years of clinic practice in the city you had never needed to spend a series of days pouring over a patient file, heck, even before you graduated and were staged as a resident in the clinic in the Outer Ring it wasn’t so extensive. 

Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome was a bad actor, and Asaba Harumasa seemed to be its favorite role to haunt. 

He coughed pitifully, a hand splayed over his chest as he shook his head. “Are you sure, Doc? My body’s aching all over and my head feels funny, and I—,” he coughed again, “can’t seem to shake this cough.” 

You frowned, scribbling another note on your papers. “Have you been taking all your medications as indicated?”

“Just as the doctor ordered…actually,” a pensive expression decorated his face as he fisted the fabric of his work shirt, “maybe I have a deficiency in something, I think I ran out of some of my vitamins.” 

You perked up immediately, flipping quickly to his laundry list of medication and supplements. “Which one have you been missing? A? C? K?”

“I think it was vitamin you.”

“Oh.” You pulled your prescription pad off the desk. “I’m going to write you an order for  Vitamin U. Try adding some cruciferous veggies to your diet, leafy greens, broccoli, stuff like that. Call me if it starts giving you stomach problems.”

You tore the slip off your pad as you extended it to him, the paper decorated in your curling and messy script. 

“Do you need a work excuse?”

Should he just quit? This was the question he asked himself every time he stepped out the door of the clinic back onto the street, paper bag of medication in his hand. 

White coat syndrome was a very real affliction, though his heart wasn’t racing and his blood pressure wasn’t spiking because he was anxious. After the fourth visit you just assumed it was his baseline response to see his pulse spike randomly through the exam, after all, his syndrome mainly seemed to impact his heart and lungs. 

What you didn’t know was that wasn’t his baseline, nor was it a mutation of his syndrome not documented by his past physicians. It was simply a biological response to something else you conveniently seemed to not notice: the raging interest he had in you.

Rest assured he was absolutely mortified when he figured it out himself, laying on his back staring at the ceiling in the dark as he realized he was enthralled by the very idea of you. Your intelligence, your nimble hands, the way you tapped your pen against your lips when met was a challenge you hadn’t quite deciphered, your warm smile.

It wasn’t a complete lie when he would tell you he felt feverish, or that his stomach felt sick and his heart was racing, he felt all those things with horrifying clarity tenfold when your hand pressed against his forehead after noting aloud that his skin seemed flush and clammy. 

Was it crossing a line to be flirting with your doctor? Definitely, he was sure he was toeing some doctor-patient professional relationship line, but if he ended up in someone else’s care later then there really wasn’t anything holding him back. 

But he was growing increasingly convinced that if you weren’t intentionally playing dumb that you might be a little thick when it came to the nuanced science of flirtation because he had shifted from casual to nearly outright and you never batted an eye.

How else could you have misinterpreted his texts from last week? He was half-giddy with excitement, sure he had you this time.

I miss you.

Your appointment isn’t until next week, you didn’t miss anything. Have a good night :)

It haunted him nearly as much as the day he forgot his work excuse and asked you to text it to him, how proudly he had flipped the phone screen to show Tsukishiro until she squinted and asked, “Why do you have heart emojis around your doctor’s name?”

A devastating blow to his ego. But so was every failed attempt to catch your eye. 

“Do you have an inhaler? Cause you just took my breath away.”

“Hold on, I’ll grab one from the cart. You’re supposed to carry your own inhaler, Mr Asaba!” You scolded, disappearing for a moment before tossing him an inhaler. 

“You look a little under the weather yourself, Doc. Sure you aren’t deficient in vitamin M E?”

“Ah, I didn’t put as much makeup on today.” You cupped your cheeks with your hands thoughtfully. “I feel fine though, thanks for your concern.” 

“I’m no organ donor, but I’d love to give you my heart.”

“Your medical condition prevents you from joining the organ donation program.” You didn’t even bother to turn around when you acknowledged him.

“I think my heart just skipped a beat when I looked at you.”

“You’re on a medication that regulates heart rhythm, should I write you a cardiology referral?”

He went to text you again as he walked home for the evening. Typed. Deleted. Typed again. Deleted again. You just weren’t getting it, or maybe you were just too kind to tell him you weren’t interested or even that you had a boyfriend already on his numerous visits. Maybe he should just give you some space?

But maybe that would be cruel when you were standing on the sidewalk waiting for the light to change, mascara smeared down your cheeks as you sniffled. He pocketed his phone.

“Hey Doc, you alright?” 

You tensed, head swiveled in his direction before you quickly turned your face away, hands swiping at your cheeks before wiping them on your dark scrubs hastily.

“Oh, hey Mr. Asaba.” He frowned at your attempt at a cheerful tone, your voice still wavering from your tears before you cleared your throat. “You, uh, don’t have to call me Doc when the clinic is closed.” 

“And you don’t have to call me Mister when I’m not sitting on your exam table.” He retorted, catching the little quirk at the corner of your lips as they quivered in a small smile.

“Want me to walk you home? It’s kinda late.” 

“No, but thank you.” You peered over your shoulder towards the restaurant just behind you. You gripped your bag tighter, inching closer to where he stood beside you on the curb.  “Actually, would you mind..?” 

He didn’t have to ask you what was wrong, within the first five minutes of your walk you had apologized to him multiple times, started crying again, and spilled your heart out.

Six bad dates in the span of a couple weeks came to a head over a plate of chicken parm, your date kicking back as he declared you to be dull, hopeless, slow, and much uglier in person than your dating profile picture (which was your clinic profile photo). 

“He said that I “couldn’t take a hint”, whatever that’s supposed to mean!” You cried indignantly before you turned to him, eyes puffy and wet from your tears. 

“Am I that bad?”

He sucked a breath between his teeth. “Well, not to play the devil’s advocate but I’ve been flirting with you for weeks and you didn’t notice.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks. “What?!”

He held up his hands defensively, but before he could say anything your head had already hung low, shuffling your clinic sneakers on the dirty sidewalk outside your apartment.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was small as your shoulders sank. “I’m not very good at stuff like this.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, fingers grazing his choker. “I noticed, but it’s fine. You just need things to be a little more straightforward.”

He took a deep breath, clasping his hands together as he pointed at you. “I think you’re very pretty and charming in your weird doctor-y kind of way, so I would like to take you out for dinner sometime. Like, romantically.”

He was sure you gave yourself whiplash for how quickly your head snapped up, eyes wide. You brushed your tousled hair back from your face, cheeks flushing brightly enough he could see them burning under the streetlights.

“Oh, okay….when?”

“Tomorrow after you get off? I’m dreaming of beer and fried chicken if you aren’t opposed.”

“Of course not!” 

He was a little taken aback by how aggressively you answered, your hands clasping around one of his as if he was about to dematerialize before your very eyes.

“Great, then I will see you tomorrow. Have a good night, Doc—I mean, (y/n).”

“Good night to you as well.”

He turned to leave. He was practically screaming inside like a teenage girl you just secured a prom date, a new lightness to his step in the wake of his victory.

“Harumasa!”

He paused in his step, head whipping around to face you. You still stood on the stoop, a smile plastered across your face like he hadn’t seen before, one that lit your eyes up and dimpled your cheek.

“Thank you!”

He gripped his chest over his heart as it flipped wildly in his chest. His grin was pained when he looked up at you. 

“Doc, I might actually need emergency care this time--,”

Rey 2024

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

Hi! I had a fun idea for maybe a Bad batch or even 501st fic where it’s clones x fem!reader where’s she’s trying to be undercover as a guy and is trying her best not to get caught (like how mulan plays ping in Disneys Mulan) bit of crack but maybe some spice if it fits?

Love your writing, it’s so addictive! Xx

“Call Me Pynn”

501st x Fem!Reader

The Republic needed a local contact for a black ops infiltration on an Outer Rim moon run by a rogue droid manufacturer supplying the Separatists. The factory was buried under city sprawl, well-guarded, and impossible to breach without drawing too much attention. So the plan was simple: go in quiet, sneak through the underworld channels, and shut down the operation from the inside.

And for once, you were the contact.

The catch? You had to go in disguised—a young male merc, neutral in the conflict but “curious” enough to lend his skills. Intel said the droids had been tricked into recruiting unaffiliated guns. All you had to do was get in, get the layout, and feed it to the Republic.

Of course, the Jedi had “improved” the plan. Now you were being assigned to a squad for deep cover infiltration—the 501st.

And they thought you were a boy.

⸻

You were barely five minutes in when you walked into the wrong locker room.

“Yo, Pynn! Took you long enough,” Fives called out, peeling off his blacks like it was a kriffing spa day. “Locker’s open next to mine. You sharing with Jesse—he snores, so wear earplugs.”

You blinked. “Wait—I thought I had quarters—”

“No time,” Rex interrupted, walking by with a towel over his shoulder and absolutely no shame. “We’re shipping out at 0600. Briefing in twenty.”

Anakin, sitting on a bench with a datapad, looked up and smirked. “You’ll get used to the smell.”

You stood there, frozen. You were still in partial armor, hair short under your helmet, chest bound so tight you could barely breathe. You hadn’t even figured out how to change in private yet.

Then Fives pulled you in, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “You showerin’? C’mon, kid. You’re part of the team now. No secrets.”

Oh no.

⸻

You managed to fake an urgent comm call to avoid the group debrief butt-naked shower bonding time.

Now, sitting stiffly between Jesse and Kix, you studied the holomap.

“Droid patrols here, here, and here,” Anakin said, pointing to the glowing corridors of the factory. “You and Pynn go in first, disguised as freelancers. The rest of us follow once the back door’s open.”

Rex narrowed his eyes. “You sure he’s ready for that?”

“I’m standing right here,” you muttered, lowering your voice an octave.

“Relax,” Anakin replied. “Pynn’s more experienced than he looks. Isn’t that right?”

You nod. “Seen worse gigs.”

“Where?” Kix asked. “Nar Shaddaa? Ord Mantell?”

You pause. “…Yes.”

“Which one?”

“Both. At the same time.”

Kix blinked. Fives let out a low whistle. “Damn. Respect.”

You were barely holding it together. Between the compression binder, the fake voice, and the constant fear of discovery, your nerves were fried.

And yet… you caught Jesse watching you from the corner of his eye. That half-grin. Suspicious. Too suspicious.

⸻

Barracks

Lights out. You’d pulled your bunk curtain shut and were lying stiff as a corpse in full blacks, binder still on. You couldn’t risk changing. Not here. Not yet.

Then came the whisper.

“Hey… Pynn.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

It was Fives.

You pulled the curtain back just enough to peek. “What?”

He grinned. Way too close. “You snore like a frightened tooka.”

“I do not.”

“You do. Also—you sleep fully dressed. Bit weird, huh?”

You stared. “Cold-blooded. Like a Trandoshan.”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. Just checking.”

Then he leaned in a little more, eyes flicking down your face.

“You ever kissed anyone, Pynn?”

You choked. “What kind of question—”

“You know. Just asking.”

Pause.

“…What would that make you if I had?” you shot back, trying to channel swagger instead of fear.

Fives winked. “Confused. But not uninterested.”

⸻

The city smelled like burnt copper and damp oil. Steam hissed from vents and flickering lights strobed against wet duracrete. Jesse walked ahead of you, dressed in stolen merc armor and moving like he’d always been on the wrong side of the law.

You trailed behind, posture low, helmet tucked under one arm, trying not to look like a girl bound so tightly her ribs wanted to snap.

Your alias was “Pynn Vesh”: rogue merc, unaffiliated, decent with tech, better with blasters. That part was true. The part where you were definitely not a woman infiltrating a droid facility with the Republic’s most observant soldiers? Not so true.

“Factory gate’s two klicks east,” Jesse muttered over his shoulder. “You good?”

“Fine,” you rasped, lowering your voice.

“You always sound like that, or is this just your merc voice?” he teased.

“Puberty was… weird for me,” you muttered.

Jesse gave a huff of amusement but didn’t push it. Thank the stars.

You slipped through the outer checkpoint without issue, your stolen ident chip scanning green. Jesse grinned at the droid guard, real smooth.

“Name’s Jax. This is my partner, Pynn. We’re here to see Garesh. He’s expecting us.”

The droid blinked in binary.

“Proceed.”

As you stepped through the blast doors into the factory interior, Jesse leaned close.

“You’re pretty quiet for a merc.”

You glanced at him. “Quiet doesn’t get me shot.”

He smirked. “Fair. But I still can’t figure you out.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No,” Jesse said easily. “Just makes me curious. You got anyone waiting back home?”

You froze.

“What?”

“You know—girlfriend, boyfriend, someone who writes you sappy comms? Never thought mercs got the chance.”

Oh. Oh no.

Behind you, another voice crackled through the comm.

“Pynn?”

Anakin.

You flinched.

“Y-yeah?”

“Signal’s clean. You’re in. Factory’s wide open on thermal—mostly droids. You’ll need to plant the beacon by the east terminal. That’ll give us access.”

“Copy.”

But Jesse wasn’t done.

“Seriously though. Someone’s gotta be missing you.”

You blinked fast, keeping your face neutral. “No time for that.”

Fives cut in over comms, voice full of amusement. “You mean you’ve never hooked up? Stars, you’re worse than Rex.”

“Hey.” Rex barked.

“Just saying!” Fives laughed. “We fight, we bleed, and apparently some of us die virgins.”

You almost choked.

“Would you all shut up?” you hissed.

Jesse chuckled. “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m—shut up.”

“Wait,” Anakin said suddenly. His voice changed—focused. “Zoom in on Pynn’s thermal feed.”

You stopped cold.

“Why?” Jesse asked.

There was a beat of silence.

Then Anakin’s voice again, casual but sharp. “Something’s… off.”

You started sweating under your armor. The binder tightened like a vice around your ribs.

Jesse looked at you sideways. “You sick or something?”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, too quickly.

“Pynn,” Anakin said. “Stay sharp. Jesse, watch his six.”

You reached the terminal, hands shaking. Plugged in the beacon. Light turned green. Done.

“We’re clear,” you breathed.

“Copy that. Pull out—quietly.”

You started to move—then froze again.

A droid had turned.

Its photoreceptors locked on you.

“Unauthorized personnel detected—”

“Shab,” Jesse growled.

“Engaging—”

Blasterfire lit the air.

“GO!” Jesse shouted, grabbing your arm.

You bolted, ducking bolts, binder cutting into your chest, heartbeat like a drum. Jesse covered your back as you both ran into the alleys.

⸻

Back at the safehouse, breathless and bruised, you collapsed into a chair. Jesse paced, helmet off, frowning.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” you gasped, trying to discreetly loosen your chest wrap under your shirt. It was soaked with sweat.

“You sure? You were… wheezing.”

“Kriff, let a guy breathe.”

He stared at you. “…You are a guy, right?”

Your heart stopped.

The room went dead silent.

You opened your mouth.

Before you could say anything, the door opened.

Anakin stepped inside.

Slowly.

Staring straight at you.

You froze.

He cocked his head.

“…Pynn,” he said, voice low. “We need to talk.”

You stood rigid by the supply crates, breathing hard through your nose as Anakin Skywalker stared you down like you were a broken protocol droid confessing to murder.

Jesse sat slumped on the couch behind you, fiddling with his helmet, clearly confused but too tired to start asking weird questions. Yet.

Anakin took one slow step forward, arms crossed over his chest.

“You want to explain what that thermal scan was?”

You clenched your jaw. “I was told this op was need-to-know, General. Even your team wasn’t supposed to know.”

“Uh-huh.”

Another step. He was studying you like a puzzle. You hated it.

You lowered your voice, just enough. “I was sent in under deep cover. Female operative, disguised as male. Assigned contact for internal breach. Command wanted eyes inside without the boys sniffing it out.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh,” he said finally. “So you’re not a guy.”

You scowled. “What gave it away?”

Anakin cracked a grin. “Besides the thermal? You run like you’re trying not to split a seam.”

“I am.”

He huffed out a laugh.

“Okay. Well, you’re a crap dude.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Voice is too soft. You’re skittish as hell. And you make weird eye contact with Fives. Which honestly just made me think you were scared of him, but now I’m guessing you were trying not to get flirted into oblivion.”

“I was absolutely scared of him.”

Anakin chuckled again, shaking his head. “Stars help you when they find out.”

You stiffened. “They can’t.”

“Relax. I’m not going to say anything.”

You blinked. “You’re not?”

“Nope.” He smirked. “But you’ll crack. That’s not a threat, it’s a guarantee. I give it two days before Jesse walks in on you binding your chest or Fives tries to play strip sabaac.”

You groaned, dropping your head against the crate with a dull thud.

“Don’t remind me.”

He leaned casually against the wall. “So what’s your name?”

You hesitated. Then sighed.

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” His grin widened. “You know, this is probably the least chaotic thing to happen to me this month.”

“That’s horrifying.”

“Tell me about it.” His tone grew a bit softer. “You handled yourself well out there, by the way.”

You blinked.

“Thanks… General.”

“But seriously,” he added, already halfway to the door, “the second Fives finds out, he’s going to combust.”

You buried your face in your hands.

Fives paused by the safehouse wall, where he’d been leaning casually with a ration bar, totally not eavesdropping. His eyebrows were furrowed in deep confusion.

He looked at Jesse, who had joined him during the tail end of the conversation.

Jesse blinked. “Did—did General Skywalker just call Pynn she?”

Fives chewed his bar, brow furrowed. “I thought he said they.”

Jesse squinted at the door.

“I think I need to sit down.”

⸻

The worst thing about pretending to be a guy?

Sleeping with the guys.

You’d been given a cot shoved between Jesse and Kix. Jesse snored like a malfunctioning speeder bike and Kix talked in his sleep—violently. And you? You’d slept curled under a blanket, stiff as a body in carbonite, binder nearly slicing into your sides.

Now it was morning. And unfortunately, your binder strap had snapped.

You stood frozen in the refresher, one gloved hand holding the compression vest tightly closed, staring at yourself in the cracked mirror.

There was a knock.

“Pynn?” Jesse’s voice.

Your soul left your body.

“You good?” he called again. “You’ve been in there for like… thirty minutes.”

“I’m fine,” you croaked, voice cracking so hard it practically betrayed everything.

Jesse paused. “…you sound weird.”

“I’m constipated!” you blurted.

Silence.

“…Okay,” Jesse muttered, “well, drink water or something.”

You slapped a hand over your face. Kriffing hell.

You had managed to throw on your chest plate and keep things moderately together, but something was off. The guys were starting to notice.

Especially Jesse.

He was watching you.

Not like in a creepy way. Just—watching. Narrow-eyed. Curious.

And Kix? The medic?

He kept frowning at the way you moved. At your stiff posture. At how your breaths came shallow. You were doomed.

“Hey, Pynn,” Jesse called while twirling a blaster idly. “Come run drills with me.”

You nearly flinched. “Drills?”

He grinned. “Yeah. Hand-to-hand. See what you’re made of.”

“No thanks,” you said quickly. “I, uh—pulled something.”

Fives piped in from the corner: “What, your integrity?”

“I will shoot you.”

Jesse kept smirking. “What are you so afraid of, Pynn? Losing to me? C’mon. Don’t be shy.”

You were about to answer when you turned too fast—your vest caught on the table edge—and a rip echoed through the air.

Time slowed.

Your chest plate dropped.

Your binder loosened.

And suddenly, you were holding the front of your shirt together with both hands, eyes wide in pure panic.

Fives blinked.

Hard.

Jesse straight-up choked.

Hardcase—Force bless him—walked into the room mid-moment and said, “Hey, are we outta rations?—Oh kriff.”

Everyone froze.

You didn’t breathe.

Then Jesse’s eyes dropped. His jaw dropped lower.

“…You’re a girl,” he whispered.

Fives made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a prayer. “That’s why you wouldn’t shower.”

“I knew something was off,” Kix muttered, half in awe, half scandalized.

You were burning alive.

Anakin appeared in the doorway with a cup of caf, took one look at the scene, and sipped slowly.

“I gave her two days,” he said smugly.

Jesse looked back at you, face suddenly unreadable. “…Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “guess the mission really was classified.”

Fives leaned on the wall and grinned at you. “You know, you’re a lot prettier when you’re not pretending to be constipated.”

“I hate all of you.”

[tedmustache]

hi ! i would be veryvery interested in a ben wyatt fic ^_^ im not very good at requests so im unsure how to specify ,, but possibly just some simple fluff of ben & the reader finally getting together or something after like everyone (except chris ofcofc) was secretly rooting for them in their own ways & stuff … idk ! just a random idea, & u can change it however u want ! thank u very much in advance <3

The Dating Pool

Pairing: Ben Wyatt x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Tension builds. Chaos unfolds. Love wins.

Requests are open

[...]

It started, as most mildly unhinged things in the Parks Department did, with Leslie Knope making a spreadsheet titled “Operation Get Those Two Adorable Dorks Together.”

“Look at them” she whispered to Ann, pointing across the bullpen. “They’re like Jim and Pam, but with more budget reports and less kissing! It's TRAGIC.”

“Do you think they know how obvious it is?” Ann asked, sipping her coffee.

“No” Leslie said, pulling out a binder labeled Ben + Y/N: Road to Romance. “That’s why we, as a department, must intervene subtly. With grace. With dignity. And also maybe with a fake work retreat where they have to share a tent.”

April, overhearing, added without looking up from her computer, “I already started a betting pool.”

“YES!” Leslie high-fived her. “That’s the spirit!”

The only person who remained completely oblivious to the romantic tension that had been simmering for nearly a year was Chris Traeger.

“I just want to say” he announced one morning, “that the synergy between Ben and Y/N is LITERALLY the most productive pairing I have ever seen in a government setting. Perhaps in any setting. Perhaps in history.”

“Cool, cool” Tom muttered, “Can I put forty on ‘Ben cracks by Thursday’?”

[...]

You had tried to be professional. Truly, you had.

But Ben Wyatt was infuriatingly handsome in a floppy-haired, budget-conscious, accidentally-charming way. And every time he adjusted his tie while blushing after you complimented his latest economic model, your resolve wavered like a raccoon at a salad bar in Pawnee.

It didn’t help that Leslie kept giving you and Ben joint assignments. Or inviting only the two of you to her weird, theme-heavy “Team Bonding Brunches.” Or sending emails with subject lines like “Just Two Smart Attractive People Needed For This Task – Others Don’t Qualify.”

Ben, for his part, was drowning.

He wasn’t exactly smooth. His flirting style could best be described as “mild panic" especially when you wore that blazer he once accidentally told Donna “radiated competence and charm and kind of made his knees feel weird.”

He thought maybe you liked him back. But what if he ruined things? What if you didn’t feel the same? What if he became the emotional Ice Town of your career?

So he stayed quiet. And longed. And ate his feelings in the form of an unhealthy amount of calzones.

[...]

Then came the Parks Department “Synergy Brainstorm” scheduled by Chris Traeger in a moment of extreme enthusiasm and a post-kale smoothie high.

“Ben! Y/N!” Chris beamed, placing two color-coded folders in front of you. “Your connection is LITERALLY the backbone of this department’s functionality. I would like you to remain here and brainstorm for an extra hour. No distractions. Just pure, focused, platonic synergy!”

And with that, he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Ben looked at you. You looked at Ben.

And something shifted.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore” you said softly.

Ben blinked. “The synergy meeting?”

“No. This whole… pretending-not-to-be-slowly-falling-in-love-with-you thing.”

He froze.

“Oh my god” he said. “You too?”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Ben, we’ve been dancing around this for months. I’m pretty sure April made a voodoo doll about it.”

“She did” he said. “It winked at me once.”

Silence. Then, awkwardly, sweetly:

“Do you want to go out to dinner sometime?”

“Yes. Like, desperately.”

And then, Ben kissed you. It was warm and tentative and wonderful, like everything that had been building up between you had finally found a place to land.

Outside the conference room, the entire department (minus Chris) let out a muffled cheer.

Leslie burst into the bullpen fifteen minutes later with two sets of color-coded champagne flutes.

“I KNEW IT” she shouted, waving a glittery binder in the air. “You beautiful government nerds are IN LOVE, and democracy has NEVER been stronger!”

Ben, still pink in the face, adjusted his tie. “Um. We were going to try and keep it low-key, at least at first.”

Leslie looked personally offended. “Excuse you. This office has suffered for eleven months and three days watching you two make heart-eyes over pie charts. We earned this.”

"You count it?"

Tom held out his hand. “Pay up, everybody. Ben cracked first.”

“No way” Donna said. “She said it first. I’m getting my mani-pedi on your dime, Haverford.”

April typed something into the betting spreadsheet. “This is the most emotionally invested I’ve been since I found that bird with one leg and named him President Screech.”

And Chris?

Chris walked in moments later, holding a tray of gluten-free muffins.

“What’s going on?” he asked brightly. “Is there a celebration?”

Everyone froze.

You and Ben looked at each other.

“Uh” you started.

“Just… high synergy” Ben added quickly.

Chris smiled, thrilled. “Amazing! I LITERALLY had a dream last night that the two of you became co-managers of a regional morale task force. The synergy was off the charts!”

The entire department burst out laughing.

Chris, still oblivious, grinned. “I love inside jokes!”

[...]

From that day on, the dynamic changed.

Ben brought you coffee in the mornings. You “accidentally” scheduled your lunch breaks at the same time. Leslie started planning double dates in a wildly overzealous Google Calendar labeled “Power Couples of Pawnee.”

And Chris?

He remained joyfully unaware for two more weeks, until he walked in on you and Ben making out in the supply closet next to a stack of Welcome to Pawnee pamphlets.

He gasped. “You two are… DATING?!”

You pulled away, flustered. “We were going to tell you!”

Chris blinked. Then his face split into the biggest smile you’d ever seen.

“I AM SO HAPPY I COULD LITERALLY DO A BACKFLIP.”

And he did. In the hallway. With perfect form.

Everyone clapped.

Leslie cried.

Ben turned to you, dazed. “Did that really just happen?”

You smiled. “It’s Pawnee. Of course it did.”

[lovezbrownies]

"I don’t like Julie at all" I say, then I suddenly tripped and fell to the ground as multiple picture of Julie fall out of my bag. "Wait!" I frantically cried out. "These aren’t mine!"

-🐟 anon

(Would love to see Julie's reaction to that..)

Or even funnier, how would the yanderes react if the reader had a miniature plushie of them? She cuddles it more and always brings it everywhere! I have so many silly ideas

HELLOOOO FISH ANONNNN :3

me too! I actually hate Julie. Guys pls dont look at the shrine to the right thats not dedicated to my love for Julie its cuz i hate her so much. The hearts drawn around her face are to wish a heart attack on her totally!

ALSO. GIVE ME ALL OF UR IDEAS IF UR WILLING OOMF! Im open to write anything entirely! Well except for full fledged fics atm bc requests are closed but small scenarios like these are fine! Ill write up the plushie one rn but in a different post! cute ideas omgg dekjfbsdjfn your silly ideas give me genuine life!

***

You pathetically stare up at Julie, your greatest nemesis. The cold, fluorescent hallway lights do little to soften the look of confusion painting her sharp features, her piercing gaze locking onto yours with an expression that borders on disbelief. Scattered across the linoleum floor like spilled secrets are the damning pieces of your obsession—pictures of her, annotated in the margins with glittery hearts, red ink curling lovingly around her face like a confession you never meant to say aloud.

It all happened so fast. You had been rushing to the lab, binder clutched tight to your chest, heart pounding from nerves—a conductor had corrupted, and you were needed, your expertise vital, your timing critical. The halls echoed with urgency, footsteps lost in the screech of alarms and the artificial hum of failing systems. You were running on instinct, on adrenaline, on the stubborn hope that you could make it in time.

But then—bam.

You turned the corner at full speed, only for your momentum to be arrested by a sudden, unmovable force.

Julie.

Impossibly tall, infuriatingly elegant, and now the unwilling witness to your absolute collapse. You hit her like a brick wall, rebounded gracelessly, and landed hard on the cold tile floor, the breath knocked clean from your lungs. Your binder, that cursed, overstuffed tome, sprang from your arms like it had been waiting for the perfect moment to betray you. Its clasp burst open, and pages flew outward in a fan of glossy devotion—photos of her, sketches, annotated reports with her name circled over and over, hearts and scribbled lines of thoughtless admiration, all scattered in a humiliating arc around your sprawled form.

Time slowed.

Julie looked down at the mess, then at you, her expression unreadable—save for the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. You couldn’t tell if it was amusement or disgust. You weren’t sure which would be worse.

Her shadow fell over one of the pages, a candid photo of her leaning against the reactor rails, a soft smirk frozen in time, made ridiculous by the little heart you’d drawn on the corner. She bent slightly, lifted the photo between two fingers like it was something fragile. Her eyes flicked to you.

“…Huh.”

“Sorry! Fuck, err, gotta go! B-Bye! Don’t mention this to HR, please.”

Your words tumbled out in a breathless, broken heap, flung carelessly over your shoulder like a desperate prayer as you scrambled to gather the most damning pages—those plastered with your worst handwriting and the most indulgent hearts. You snatched at corners, fumbled with half-folded pages, your face hot enough to melt steel. Shame was a heavy thing pressing against your spine, but the emergency pulsing through the comms was heavier. You couldn’t linger. No time to explain. No time to beg. Only enough for a mortified glance upward, your voice cracking in that last plea—

“Please.”

And then you were gone. Feet pounding. Binder clutched against your chest like it could still preserve your dignity if you just held on tight enough. The hallway echoed with your retreat, your silhouette vanishing around the corner in a blur of panic and mission-first resolve.

Julie didn’t follow.

She stood exactly where you left her, still as a statue, the hum of overhead lights thrumming gently above her. In her hand, she still held the photo—your devotion captured on glossy paper, her face inked with affection, a heart curling beneath her jawline.

And then… she smiled.

No, grinned—a wide, sharp, spine-crawling expression that split her face in a way that was almost inhuman. Her eyes widened unnaturally, shimmering with that manic sheen of someone who had just been gifted the world. Her brows pulled up in twisted delight, a tremble in her shoulders as the realization settled deep in her bones.

You liked her.

You like her.

As much as she liked you.

The photo in her hand crinkled from how tightly she clutched it. Her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, and her knees nearly buckled under the weight of the revelation. You’re just like her. All this time, she’d played it cool. All this time, she’d hidden the stacks of photos, the stolen glances, the hours watching you through surveillance reruns she claimed were “incident reviews.” She’d told herself she was careful, controlled. You were just a harmless crush, just a beautiful little anomaly in her otherwise calculated world.

But this?

Oh, this changed everything.

Julie hugged herself tight, arms squeezing over her own body as if trying to contain the violent tremor of excitement quaking through her. Arousal and obsession tangled in a dizzying crescendo in her gut, breathing shallow, pupils blown wide. Her skin prickled with anticipation.

You want her.

And now she’s never letting you go.

She’s going to make such a mess of you the next time she sees you—deliberate, thorough, slow. She’s going to memorize the way your breath hitches when she gets close, how your lashes flutter when you’re flustered. She’s going to catalogue every sound, every twitch, every pathetic little plea. You’ll beg again—but not to be forgotten.

And you will never escape her again.

Ever.

[sev-on-kamino]

A lil headcanon for ✨Commander Thorn✨

This is based on events in my series: ‘In Pieces’ but I wanted to share it ahead of that chapter because self-control has never come around me 😌 Also shout out to the Barbie meme for making this scene way more fun!

Thorn has made it his mission to arrest every member of Torrent Company (and the Ghost Company is on thin ice)

He brought Hardcase and Jesse in once, and the mugshots they took were so fantastic that he hung them on his office wall.

Next time he had to arrest Fives and Tup for a bar fight, and Fives treated his mugshot like a glamour shot, and Tup looked as angelic as possible.

He’s managed to get the whole company except for Kix and Dogma, and it will be like every holiday rolled into one, if he ever snags them.

Fox finds it hilarious, but he WILL NOT admit to it.

They never get in real trouble, but Thorn makes it a point to call Rex to come and get them.

It’s simultaneously awesome and shameful to have your mugshot in Thorn’s office.

Hardcase and Jesse often try to see how far they can go before getting arrested, and Hardcase always ends up cracking up during the process.

Rex has decreed that the next person to get arrested is going to be running drills until they beg for the sweet release of death.

Thorn is having too much fun calling him and he can’t take it anymore.

Since it’s also WIP Wednesday, please have a lil sneak peek/drabble thing below the cut:

“Oh, Maker, this is perfect,” Thorn said, arriving on the platform where you, Jesse, and Hardcase were being detained just outside of 79’s.

“I’ll have you know, we did not start the fight,” you said folding your arms and lifting your head proudly.

“But we did finish it,” Hardcase added with a grin.

“Thank you for that because I was missing this pretty girl’s face in my office,” He said booping your nose. “Just need Kix and Dogma for the full set.”

“You’ll never get those two,” Jesse shook his head.

“Oh, they’ll slip up, and I’ll be there,” He turned back to you. “You, my gorgeous friend, are really in for it.”

“Why me?” You pouted. “I think I should get special treatment.” You were not above using your friendship to get out of the inevitable call to Rex that would land all of you in a world of pain. He’d been so clear when you all left that any trouble was going to result in the kind of punishment that would go down in GAR history.

“I’ll let you make that request directly to Fox,” you could hear him smirking through the modulator, which confused you.

He had to have known by now that the pair of you had had a falling out. He didn’t know the details, but you’d raced right past him the last time you’d left Fox’s quarters. But Thorn’s loyalty would always lie with Fox, and you respected that.

You gave him a look, but with his bucket on, you had no idea if your message was received. You weren’t willing to say more in present company, so you just fumed silently.

“And now for my favorite part: you’re all under arrest for disorderly conduct, and I will be taking you in, and I will be calling Captain Rex.”

“This feels like an abuse of power. You should not be this happy,” you said, even as you heard Hardcase struggling not to laugh while Thorn placed the binders on your wrists with a flourish.

“And yet, I am,” he purred.

tagging: @deejadabbles @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream

also cause I think you’ll enjoy it (hope it’s ok): @ladyzirkonia

[batsplat]

as might have come across by now, i love doing dumb rankings for things, which obviously includes ranking top ten riders after the season ends. which is only fun to do if you do not take it too seriously!! this is just as a laff. did it very very quickly top off my head before listening to the race podcast episode ranking the riders so I could argue with them in my head, was curious if they'd change my mind on anyone, they did not

just for reference the race's combined rankings were: 10) vinales 9) binder 8) zarco 7) diggia 6) bastianini 5) fabio 4) bagnaia 3) acosta 2) marc 1) jorge (impressive this did actually match up in terms of the riders i picked because i swear their one last year was bizarre)

here is my quick fire justification for each

Next off - always a coward's concept but idk, I'm clearly too fond of aleix. retirement privileges. the poles were neat, the races frustrating but ultimately also a bit inevitable feeling, too much of the year too anonymous. flyaway kinda a waste (also it makes sense to have a next off in this case because there was not a single other rider I considered even for a second for this list, like it's very much a grid in two halves for me this season idk)

10. Diggia - was generally impressed and happy he cracked on from last year, love athletes getting better at things. It's the Marc comparison that kills him for me. You don't need to be beating marc but you need to be close to him SOMETIMES and like. finish ahead of him when he's not gotten a penalty. just do not think the gp23 was quite as poor as the non-marc riders were looking, have to accept that bez's season was basically a write-off and go from there. Late stretch with the injury was really strong - positive season by his standards but that ends up bagging him tenth

9. zarco - some really impressive pace on a really poor bike. The qualifying is obviously the big thing, like the one lap pace was just consistently... surprisingly impressive.... Felt very yamaha era, I didn't realise he still had that in him. Races meh but no more so than other Honda's and he showed a little of what that bike was capable of. zarco to me feels like one of those riders who does need to feel comfortable in an environment to properly perform, and I get the vibe the lcr set-up is doing him a lot of good. still a bit of a terrorist sometimes in races - but unlike a couple of riders who did not make this list, at least he actually backed it up with a little bit of magic

8. Vinales - man this guy... I mean cota was obviously amazing and so was portimao tbh, but unfortunately it's a twenty round calendar. The starts are abysmal even by aprilia standards, after phillip island I made a vow with myself to never put him in my fantasy league team again and then broke that at catalunya ii, a race I'm not convinced he was physically present for. also with all love and respect for aleix, genuinely remarkable it's taken three seasons for vinales to actually get the better of him - and even that was helped by aleix disappearing over the flyaway stretch. extremely vinales season, we all know what we're getting at this point

7. bastianini - not even BAD as much as I found it deeply uninspiring. obviously also pretty damning he failed to secure third place. he flirted with the idea of involving the best bike on the grid in the factory team in a title fight two thirds into the season, then instantly changed his mind. just basically IMMEDIATELY crashed when the title contender shouts started... so much for the consistency thing when he's actually pushing huh. the qualifying h2h with pecco is criminal, which to some extent reflects well on pecco but. not that well. Late race pace gimmick only takes you so far buddy. Fell off less than the three guys ahead of him in the standings, but at least those three were clearly trying to be fast which fundamentally I think is a good idea in motogp. I also still haven't forgotten whatever tf he was getting up to in the catalunya i race, though admittedly catalunya ii was in itself a memorable follow-up. the post-race aleix comment is a genuine contender for the funniest thing anyone has said all year and almost pushed him into my top ten just because of how much i enjoyed that. and now for the good stuff!! when bastianini's on it he's clearly super fast, the late race pace gimmick DOES still do crazy things sometimes, and he did have some serious consistency going for him even when he was twenty seconds back on the other guys. race craft always been a bit dubious to me but like. points for pulling some of those moves off without crashing. improved his sprint performances and did manage to bounce back from serious injuries last year. interested to see how he gets on next year

6. Binder - I did not think I was being generous with this ranking!!! he was the top non ducati points scorer and I still believe on balance the gp23 is a better package than what binder had. sure, this was another pretty uninspiring season but like... maybe the issue is that I've long felt binder was overrated and the ktm was underrated, like I never bought this whole 'he'd win a title on a ducati!!' talk. so I felt vindicated early in the season and then I got over it and could appreciate the performances he put in. he outscored a guy I think most people agree is a truly generational alien-level talent - didn't outperform him, but that is still a respectable accomplishment. the ktm might not have slipped down the pecking order but it WAS relatively further adrift from ducati than last year - lack of peaks hurts binder post Qatar and how pedro just reliably seemed the best ktm in terms of pace but. y'know. that gets you sixth

5. pedro - yeah man, what a stunning rider. I always try to set the hype levels low when a guy is switching class because you truly never know, but he's the real deal. felt very casey-esque in vibes more than result in that his ultra promising start to the season actually slightly hurt him afterwards, but quite frankly this is also down to bike performance and him overreaching on machinery that doesn't allow it. you could feel him losing his patience... he's hungry and knows he should be fighting right at the sharp end of the field. which is fine - to a degree. inevitably some of the mistakes end up costing him in this ranking, even though I still feel like they tell me nothing about his ultimate potential. the comparisons to marc's rookie season are worse than useless because if you really think marc wouldnt have crashed more in his rookie races than he did if his debut had been with, idk, Ducati ... Idk what to tell you man. Hopefully he's gotten some of the stupidity and recklessness out of his system, but yeah he could do with that bike things none of the other riders could. also CONSISTENT high pace - even if the conversion wasn't always what is should be, he really was almost always the fastest ktm rider in any given weekend. looking forward to next year if ktm still exists

(also sorry but you CANNOT rank him this much higher than binder if he's been outscored by him on the same bike, like it's a top ten best riders not top ten riders who you vibed with the most. binder outscored pedro and u put him SIX places lower in the rankings?? it's not supposed to be a ranking relative to expectations - maybe this is also what hurts marc slightly in my rankings... he clearly adapted very well to the ducati BUT the fact that he was adapting just inevitably meant some of his performances especially early in the season weren't quite *there*, which knocks his ranking slightly. this 2 me is how you do a ranking of the 'best')

4. Fabio - the problem with ranking fabio is that fundamentally you cannot really compare him to some of the guys in this ranking because he is just riding with a completely different set of challenges and priorities. he's not under the strain of a title fight, he's not got a decent benchmark (think the injury is still a serious factor), the eye test tells me he was highly impressive but I also can't really rank him higher. he has a massive machinery deficit but also fundamentally that means if he has a shit weekend, he's going to just be essentially invisible. even though I fully believe he would be right up there with the guys ahead of him given the correct machinery, if not beating them, just kinda inevitably means he cannot put together as complete a season as the guys ahead of him. also helped by how the Yamaha has gotten generally somewhat better over the course of the season, which means recency bias is swaying me. really recaptured some of that old qualifying magic at times. That race where morbidelli took him out haunts me. He's also kinda hurt by me not seeing enough of him on my screen but this is not his fault. I would be fine putting him first lol

3. marc - he's very likely gonna win the title next year, for now he gets third in this ranking. in the pro column is obliterating with the gp23's, though quite frankly that also reflects how unimpressed I was generally by most of those guys. I think the bike was nowhere near as good as he made it look for much of the year, especially given the rear tyre situation... I also don't think it was quite as poor as his fellow gp23's regularly made it look. he adapted very well to the bike especially at his age, he showed he still has the old magic, he did everything he needed to this season to fight for the title next year. a lot of the year he spent riding with bikes he had no business racing, there were some inspired rides through the field, and all three of his sunday wins were impressive in different ways. he also had more than his fair share of bad luck. but y'know, he was in the title hunt vibes-wise long enough that it's worth pointing out he finished over a hundred points off the top two in the rankings. which probably feels like more than it is given the sprint factor - still, percentage-wise that clocks in at just under eighty percent of bags' points... I'm not discounting the machinery difference but it makes me more comfortable with giving him third. the qualifying isn't actually as poor stats wise as it FEELS (average grid position another stat you can whack bastianini with if you are so inclined btw), but it still wasn't what it should have been. gp25 will probably be good enough he can at least slot in besides pecco, but he doesn't want to get into that 2015 era valentino habit of continually having to do Very Impressive Rides with great overtakes and all the rest of it from pee nowhere at the end of the first lap. also a bit too crash-y - and I do give him one or two penalty points for stinky race craft working his way back up the order lol. he's too old for that, and also there may come a time where he does need to start watching that crash count a bit more (throughout the weekend). maybe it's sustainable, but it might well not be. I didn't like those numbers in his prime, I like them even less now. all that being said he could easily go first in this ranking and I almost put him there, to me there's no real distinction. post-summer break I think I would put him first

(editorial note: twas interesting to see catalunya ii qualifying felt like the first time catching a tow off pecco actually *worked*, and I am a little bit curious if that was because pecco was deliberately attempting to give him said tow or whether he's figured out not to bin it on the ducati in that situation. watch this space ig)

2. Bags - the fastest rider this year and should have been champion, so of course you have to penalise him for not winning. I do actually think he performed better than martin but also he had the factory apparatus behind him and martin did what he needed to do. seven crashes - one he was completely blameless for, two racing incidents he was at most in that 40-60% range for, four on his own. I find the sepang sprint crash quite excusable, catalunya sprint I am pretty unimpressed by, misano ii I honestly still don't understand anything about his race and Silverstone sprint I am very meh about. the racing incidents do feel like major punishments for minor crimes but fundamentally just like... don't be in that situation I guess. if you don't watch where you're going when you cross the street under a green light and get run over, even if it's not your fault that won't actually do you much good. genuinely had some quite poor luck, like I don't think all this bike/tyre stuff was just bullshit on his end - same with martin last year at... I want to say qatar? shit happens. I do think he needs to get more serious about sprints, though to some extent his ranking reflects a continued stubbornness on my part on the sprint front. you're supposed to be fast on a sunday!! he was fast on a sunday. eleven wins are eleven wins and don't suddenly get erased if you don't win the title - sure he was on the dominant bike but he wasn't the only one. eleven wins can be used to slam him but fundamentally they are still eleven wins. and did I mention that he did ungodly things to bastianini in some of their h2h's, who theoretically is quite a highly rated rider... I am always a fan of a good exercise in futility and some of his late season performances very much moved me. decision making sometimes a bit ass, race craft less so. hope he doesn't die in a ditch next season

1. jm - yeah man what can you say, just such an impressive all round season. you can penalise him a bit for the win count I feel ... It's one of those weird seasons because apart from mid season he generally ended up in a position where he was *defending* a points lead, so it was consistently sensible for him to settle for results rather than do anything silly. But there was a lot of settling!! I think it's easy to complain about that on entertainment grounds, but fundamentally this was probably his one shot to win a title (after last year) and he did so. both him and bagnaia made a step up from last year which as stated earlier on I always appreciate - I still think pecco is the all round better well rounded rider with more to his game, but also literally who gives a shit. it's about winning the title!! shout out to his starts... I don't like how important they are in the current version of the sport but they are and his are consistently excellent. the qualifying battle between him and pecco is worthy of mention in its own right - I KNOW you don't get points for qualifying, I'm not even that big a qualifying girl normally, but idk some of those sessions moved me. doing all that with a satellite team (albeit a very well-supported one) and knowing he was leaving next year... yeah. now admittedly he did do the single stupidest thing I'd seen all year when he changed bikes at misano i, which if I had my way you'd get negative points for, but also all those guys behind him made mistakes so whatever. I find the sachsenring crash fairly excusable, the jerez one a lil less so but also fine, mugello sprint was a wee bit silly and likewise indonesia. did also potentially get extremely lucky marc crashed when he did in thailand - if martin's right and he would have crashed there, that's double the title-winning margin right there. race craft a bit eh and I feel like I never really expect him to win any of his encounters with pecco and Marc (and even bastianini), but also le mans was great so. Doubt he'd be champion without sprints but we do have the sprints, congrats on a great season etc etc

and there u go. top five are interchangeable for me and so are the bottom five but i feel quite strongly about which rider belongs in which group. fun season, i enjoyed it

[pfhwrittes]

💚💚👋👋

I'm so ready for the weekend! My partner and I are going to see a traveling Dracula play, and I'm ready to relax a bit.

I loved the costumes you picked for the 141!! I personally love Halloween (like every other American on this planet lSTG) and get so into the planning. One year, my partner and I looked up how to make fake human meat (pork, beef, and lamb if you're curious) and made Sweeny Todd pies for our friends. Interestingly, people get really weirded out at the idea of eating something that (hypothetically) tastes like people. Which one of the 141 would eat fake people meat do you think?

Also, I love all the transmasc reader stuff you reblog/write 💚

I'm so happy you don't mind chatting back to me - I don't write enough to be a wellknown fanfic author, so this is a nice way to get to speak to other people in the fandom! Thanks for always answering my rambles 😁

(tw for food mention and cannibalism - but like, fake cannibalism. hypothetical cannibalism. no humans are consumed in this ask!)

hiya friend!

those sound like great weekend plans! i'm hanging out at my parent's place this weekend and helping out with a (partial) family dinner tomorrow. i'm in charge of making herby dumplings and veg prep because i complain endlessly about boiled carrots.

i absolutely love how into halloween most americans are, you all make it really fun!

oooh sweeney todd "meat" pies? oh hell yes. i've never met a pie i didn't like. i'd definitely be up for trying it!

Which one of the 141 would eat fake people meat do you think?

i think both of the johns (soap and price) would be up for eating the lamb/pork/beef blend.

price because (like me) has never met a pie he didn't like and soap because he's a Freak (affectionate) like that.

i think gaz would crack a joke about it not being the only kind of meat soap's had in his mouth before, making soap choke and gaz to howl with laughter.

ghost won't touch 'em and it doesn't matter how many times you tell him that it's just minced beef/pork/lamb. don't worry you can make it up to him by luring him back with biscuits decorated like little skeletons.

aw, thank you! and thank you for the reminder that i need to update my binders and boyfriends masterlist too!

i'm always happy to chat friend, i hope you have an excellent timezone and feel free to drop a link to your writing if you want!

[mi4012sayakagunasekara]

Set Building Day 3

So what was initially supposed to be a class for MI4016 was instead Day 3 of our set building (Ravindu and Trishan were kind enough to let us work through the entire day for this)

So the approach today was to focus on the props and the furniture. We decided to rework on the TV as well.

So Thameena decided to mainly focus on the measurements and cutting out the pieces for the props and then Uvindu created the cover for the TV.

Thameena then decided to focus on the doors

I was in charge of the chairs but then the curve factor of the reclining seat wasnt working, So Uvindu came to the rescue and I instead created the cushioning

I then called Cain to discuss the measurements to make the built in bookshelf, the blinds, and the windows on top. through via whatsapp call

^measurements for window blinds and window

^measurement for bookshelf (Lion RAWR XD is Cain btw)

^Cain had also finished making some of the files

We are now moving into the next part of the post which is,

The Struggles;

So there were a lot of struggles today and our miscommunication was put in spotlight today and to say the least I was somewhat stressed out (even the lecturers had pointed it out-)

There was a lack of cohesion in the group and we were pretty much running around like headless chickens as we just doing things off the top of our heads and Ad Hoc wise. In short it was so chaotic.

When we finished our own stuff and didnt know what to do, we spoke to each other and realized that we were quite literally were lost and didnt have much of a plan.

So last minute Uvindu made a Google doc with all the props we needed because we (mainly me) started panicking because Ravindu and Trishan started pointing out how difficult the set looks and how they were also worried at the state of things

the google doc:

The edited pictures of the set, where we got help from Movindul to increase the brightness of the set:

I. started. to. crack. like. an. egg.

So I was definitely lying to myself saying we had things under control but then we started communicating with each other on our respective roles and the items we had to make. After this discussion I was slightly more calm, and then we proceeded with the plan of finishing everything over the weekend and set the deadline date on Monday so that we could have 2 extra days for ourselves in case if we need to finish more stuff.

We finally accepted our unique dynamic which I will like to term it as "Chaotic Order" despite everyone being not sure of what to do, we somehow did the work and if one felt the other wasn't doing the job properly they would immediately address it and take over.

Essentially there were a lot of overlapping roles, an example would be the role of the leader of the group and how Uvindu and I would take the role from each other. nothing was really construct and sound within the group's dynamic.

We also finally accepted our slogan which is

"If it works, it works"

So the next day, we decided to have a group meeting after the 3D lecture to discuss the plan with everyone (to solidify our approach for the last few days), and to also temporarily place the props together so we can have a basic idea on what we have completed so far as well.

[nerodivergentgrimreaper]

CastleAudio Werewolf HeadCanons

Here are some personal headcanons that I have for a few of the pack members please let me know if there are any other characters you want head cannons for or if you want any of the characters in certain situations

Claire

- Claire can’t cook, she has burned water. However, she is very good at mixing drinks. She can make a drink for every occasion. 

- She wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, I’m talking before the sun even thinks about rising. Gets dressed, goes on a run, and gets coffee before anyone in the pack wakes up. 

- That being said she goes to bed super early, like 9:00- 9:30

- She has a binder full of facts about each of her pack members. I’m talking Birthdays, interests, even finger prints. 

- Because of this she is the best gift giver. She plans the holidays out two months in advance. 

- She on multiple occasions has picked up younger pack members from awkward situations. It’s reassuring that they trust her enough to call her when they need help. 

- She let Sweetheart/ Knight tattoo her when they first started their apprenticeship, the tattoo itself is bad but the memory is one of her favorites. 

- She hates heels, can't stand them, She has no idea how Beth can walk around so casually in them. 

- She lives in a leather jacket and jeans, Beth and Ro make jokes about how stereotypical their Alpha’s outfit is.

- She has always been tall and is very self aware about her height and how it makes her look more intimidating.  

Beth 

- Beth will forever feel guilty that she didn’t help Claire more during the night of the accident 

- She unlike Claire hates mornings with a passion, if it were up to her the world would not start until noon. 

- She wants to get a tattoo but has no idea what to get. She wants it to have meaning but can’t make a decision.  

- She either could look like a million bucks, dress, heals, hair done, or she is dressed like a middle school boy. 

- Beth doesn’t get sick often but when she does it's bad, I’m talking in bed for a week, can’t function at all. 

- Secretly loves romantic comedies 

- While she doesn’t have a sweet tooth she loves spicy food. Her cabinet is stocked with spicy ramen for the days she doesn’t feel like cooking. 

- She finds sewing very calming but the actual process of make clothing stressful 

- She can play the piano, she used to take lessons but now its just turned into more of a party trick 

- She can sprint in a pair of stilettos

Knight/SweetHeart 

- Knight works as a tattoo artist most of the time but also does odd jobs around town for some extra side cash 

- They are a jack of all trades. You need your car fixed? They got tools. You locked yourself out? They’ll pick and change the lock for you. You need a rollerskating buddy? Give them a minute to find their skates. 

- They are also very observant. While they are more of the quiet type, they listen and watch and just over all gather information. 

- Most of the tattoos they have they did themself. 

- When they are angry instead of the silent treatment they will just shift and stare at you in wolf form to avoid having to talk. 

- They live for horror movies, it's one of their favorite ways to pass the time. (It's also a great excuse for Evie to hold on to them). 

- They are dyslexic. Can’t read for shit. 

- They are a strong believer in hydrate or diedrate. 

- They have a lot of sketchbooks full of drawings of the pack members and nature. 

- They have a little turtle named Mikey (Yes after the Ninja Turtle) 

[jilyarchive]

OCTOBER AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: MISSGRYFFIN

Q: Where can we find you and your stories?

A: @missgryffin​, AO3

Q: How would you describe your writing style?

A: Intense, sexy, snappy, and fast-paced. I have a rampant imagination and love a good sexual tension build-up, so my fics usually include a lot of plot, drama, and (of course) smut.

Q: How do you come up with ideas for your writing?

A: It’s such a grab-bag. A pretty substantial number of my fics have originated from prompts, actually! I also draw a lot on TV shows/movies I’ve seen, novels I’ve read, tropes I see that I’m inspired to try, etc. Also, I find that a lot of my ideas actually form while I’m writing. I’ll go in with a sense of direction, but it’s not until I’m writing and really in the thick of it that the details take shape, and then new ideas begin to spout off from there, based on what I learn about what the characters and story need.

Q: When and why did you begin writing fanfiction?

A: Technically, during the two-year wait between the releases of books 5 and 6, because I was utterly HP obsessed, my imagination was in overdrive thinking about what could happen in the final two books, and I had discovered MuggleNet fanfiction / FFN by that point, so I’d been devouring all of that early era of HP fanfic. I actually have a giant binder of my own fanfic writing from that period; I would type up stories in Word, format them with fun fonts and fan art covers I found online, and print them out for myself. (Which, I still do this!) Fun fact: there’s even a Marauders story in there that I had completely forgotten about that has a striking resemblance to the bones of Eternal Summer. It genuinely freaked me out a little when I found it, ha! 

 But even though I wrote creatively through most of my childhood/school phases of life, I had taken a pretty substantial break in early adulthood and didn’t “return” to writing until the pandemic in 2020. Life was bizarre, Netflix had gotten boring, and I was craving a creative outlet or hobby that could make lockdown bearable. I randomly stumbled my way back to fanfic / fandom, and here we are!

Q: What’s one thing you’d tell someone who is considering reading one of your fics?

A: Buckle up! 🎢 Also, I hope you are either i) at home, or ii) have a really great NSFW poker face 😅 But to give a more serious answer, I’d say that I write a wide range of tones, and I really lean in to what that tone is. If a fic is tagged for fluff and crack, it will be so adorably sweet and cringe-funny that your face will hurt from smiling. If a fic is tagged for angst and darker themes, it will feel like a knife to the gut. (If it’s tagged for all of the above—cough Eternal Summer cough—you’re at the front of a line for a wild rollercoaster, my friend!) Since I write both extremes, I’m never offended when readers skip fics or prefer one “genre” to another. But please know that Jily is always endgame in all of my stories—that’s the whole reason why we’re here 💗

Q: What are some of your favorite Jily tropes?

A: Enemies to lovers is my #1, even if it’s more of that “enemies-ish” rivalry at the beginning. There’s just nothing more quintessentially Jily to me than the process of them discovering more layers to the other person and slowly realizing that the other person is so much more than the antagonist they’d built up in their head. (And that they -gasp- actually…like them! Worse, they like them like them! A lot!) Gets me every time. 

Other favorites include There Was Only One Bed, Hurt/Comfort, and Forced Proximity/Stuck/Trapped. 

Q: What do you like most about the Jily fandom?

A: That we celebrate how much of a power couple Jily is. I’m going to quote @jilyss’ answer for this because it’s so true: we understand James has an arrogant streak but grew up, we celebrate Lily for the intelligent, strong, cool, bamf woman she is, and we appreciate how they’re true, complementary equals finding real, raw love with one another. (And also all the wonderful reader and fellow-writer friends I’ve made! 😘)

Q: Pick a favourite Marauders era character.

A: My man JP. From only the few hints we get about him in the books, we know he’s such a dynamic person, and I really love bringing him to life. Also, his growth/redemption story deserved more air-time, so I’m glad fanfic is here to fill that gap.

Q: Self-promo time! List the fics that you are most proud of writing.

A:

Eternal Summer – My first born! Even though it’s far from being finished and needs a lot of work, I’m really proud of the world-building I’ve done thus far. 

Vindicated – This was thrilling for me to write because it’s a total departure from what I’d previously written: second chances, canon-divergent AU, American settings, original characters, more adult relationship, etc. I have more planned for this universe and I’m really excited for it. 

for the hope of it all – My latest completed fic. I challenged myself to write a softer, friends-to-lovers, mutually pining kind of summer fic, and this came together in a flood. But what makes me proud is that with this fic, I could really see how much my writing has evolved and improved from those early ES days. 

Q: Fic rec time! Could you recommend a few of your favourite Jily fics?

A:

Of Chrysalism by @maraudersftw​ – It’s only a short one-shot, but the way this fic haunts me!! Exquisite. 

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl​ – Lauren is the Nancy Meyers of Jily, and this fic is the epitome of that. A total comfort fic for me; I want it to be a movie that I can play in my living room over and over again until I know it by heart. 

Eighteen Again by @scriibble-fics​ – If I didn’t know scriibble was getting her PhD in History, I’d think she was a screenwriter. The world-building in this fic is like no other—I’m in a constant state of chills when I read it. The emotional depth, the heartbreak, the romance, the political intrigue…it’s one of those fics that never leaves you.

Thank you @missgryffin​ for letting us ‘interview’ you and for sharing your fics with us! ❤️

[bylertruther]

One would think Mike would be ecstatic on his first day in cali. He finally gets to see his gf and spend time with her. But no, Will was quiet and kinda moody and this has ruined the whole day. Ahahaha. When he said that during their argument, it made me laugh. how do you think Mike will react when he finds out El didn’t ask Will to do the painting?

he really said woooooow.... so you're really not gonna be obsessed with me? not only do you bring another girl's painting (which was our thing btw) to OUR reunion and have the NERVE to be hot now, but you also want to not laugh at my jokes or take my olive branch? how abt i step into traffic rn. wht if i slipped n sprained my ankle, will. then would u pay attention to me. i know that my girlfriend has been lying to me this entire time straight to my face, just got harassed by everyone in the roller rink and had that moment immortalized on tape, and ran off to cry somewhere alone, but you not paying attention to me is worse than all of that actually and tbh it's kind of unforgivable. LIKE MICHAEL PLEASE..... I KNOW U CALLED HIM ALL THE TIME AND NEVER GOT ANYTHING IN RETURN BUT STILL...... NOW IS NOT THE TIME AND I DON'T THINK WILL NOT TALKING TO U SHOULD BE UR PRIORITY IF U SUPPOSEDLY LOVE UR GIRLFRIEND MORE AND "CARE ABT [HER] SO MUCH"?! 🧐 but i digress.

honestly, i think it's going to snap his world in two. the painting on its own was not inherently romantic, but will's lies are what make it so. had he just given mike the painting and lifted his spirits, it would've been super touching but easily played off as "you're my best friend, of course i feel that way about you!" just like all of their other heart to hearts, like the crazy together one for example. but the fact that he used eleven's name is what makes it suspicious and it'll break his heart, because will lied to him. the first thing we're shown is that will can't and doesn't ever lie to mike even when it's to his advantage and even if the other party members are telling him to.

according to the script, mike knew that eleven didn't need him anymore because he saw it in her eyes. he feels this way and then will goes and fucks it all up by unknowingly giving him all these false ideas that don't apply to el at all. he isn't going to understand why will lied, especially about something that important, and then he's going to feel even worse because he was right!! and yet he listened to will anyway over both his own understanding and eleven's actions and words just because he trusts him that much.

mike tried calling will all the time despite will never calling him back. he tried to crack lighthearted jokes with will at rink-o-mania. he felt like he'd lost will because he was the one doing all the work and that's why he told him "maybe you should've reached out more, but why am i the bad guy?" (paraphrased). and still!! he doesn't let will take the blame when they make up!!! because he loves will that much!! he's the one that patches things up between them and he's the one that's been honest with will even when it was hard!! so for will to not feel like he can give him a painting despite mike literally having his room and his basement covered in his drawings as well as a binder is going to feel like such a punch to the gut in a "wow. i trust you with everything and you can't even trust me with something that used to be our thing? i thought we were best friends, a team, and yet you're lying to me?" like. the tragedy is that will thought he was doing something good for mike and eleven, and he doesn't realize that he just fucked it all up straight to hell. bc then mike is going to be like lol wow so no one really DOES need me cool cool cool love that for me love that my girlfriend AND my best friend both lied to me and felt like they couldn't be open and honest love that 🫠👍

like. it's just such a fascinating plot that can unravel any which way. he's going to be confused for sure. hurt. possibly angry, because we know he lashes out when he's overwhelmed. but he's going to be so hurt and confused. will is his best friend. his home. will never lies. so why after everything.... after everything that they've done, after everything that they've said... after how he treated eleven when she was lying.... why is he lying?

tl;dr homeboy is going to be so hurt and confused in a way he probably hasn't ever been before and it will be Glorious

[twink-between-worlds]

honey whiskey; chapter five

hihi yeah so fuck the "new lu canon info"

you get some gays bein gay

its sorta a filler but also theres plot

relationships; four & leg, red & leg, vio & leg, ravio/legend, vio/shadow, four/shadow (technically)

ao3 link; x

Legend sighed gently, letting Four play with his feathers. Four made Legend a new wing binder, one that looks a lot softer than cold metal and leather, and she basically begged to at least feel his wings. …Legend kinda likes Red. She reminds him of Gulley. Curious, innocent, but capable of scaring the living shit out of you. It helps when he’s homesick. Not to mention—Four being a blacksmith reminds him of home too. Sometimes Legend wishes he’d went back to finish his apprenticeship. It would’ve been nice…to abandon the heroics and be a blacksmith instead. But..clearly that didn’t work for Four, so it wouldn’t work for him either. “Why didn’t you tell us?”Four spoke suddenly. “Us as in the chain.”She clarified, a little laugh escaping her mouth. “It’s just…not something I share.”Legend shrugged gently. “It’s not important.” “Oh,”Four mumbled softly. “Okay.”She nodded. “How did you make these so quickly?”Legend gestured to the new wing binds as Four finally began to gently place them onto Legend. “We split during watch last night,”Four admitted. “So we could get it done faster. We don’t understand why you hide them, but it makes you comfortable, so we decided we needed to make you these for today rather than making you wait.” “Oh. Thanks.”Legend mumbled quietly. “How did you split without anyone seeing? We’re not exactly heavy sleepers.” “Oh, we walked a little bit away to split.”Four grinned slightly, shrugging. “We just wanted this done for you.” “Oh.” Four hummed, gently fastening the clip on the binds before she paused, poking at the side of Legend’s neck. “What’s that?” “One, don’t poke my neck you weirdo—”Legend’s comment earned a giggle from the smithy. “Two…do you mean my tattoo?” “Yeah! The purple bunny...” “Oh..that.”Legend cracked a little smile. “It’s a matching tattoo I have with Ravio. He…has a pink bunny instead of a purple one.” “Ravio? That weird merchant?” Legend let out a laugh, nodding. “That weird merchant.” “Why do you have a matching tattoo with him?”Four crossed faer legs, eyes shifting from red to purple in an instant. Legend glanced up at the sky, smiling. “We’ve been married for a year.” Four let out a gasp and gently shoved Legend. “Shut up—no way!” Legend nodded and held out his hand. “Notice how I only have one silver ring?” “You’ve been wearing your wedding ring this whole time!”Four’s eyes lit up. “You bitch!” “Easy, Vi, no need to call me that because you finally weren’t observant enough.” Four huffed. “You’re an asshole. You’re worse than Shade.” “Shade?”Legend blinked, grinning when Four flushed. “Who’s Shade?” “I…don’t have to tell you.” “C’mon, you know you wanna~” “I—”Four let out a frustrated whine, burying faer face into faer hands. The two sat there in silence for a while, Four curled up in a ball while Legend leaned back on his hands. “Shadow is my partner.”Four finally confessed, sighing. “They’re a fucking asshole but I’d kill for te—actually, terrible idea to say that—I’d die for—nope, that’s bad too, uhh..”Four ignored the very confused look Legend had, trying to find better words. “...ah! I’d trade my life for theirs! That works.” “Tell me ‘bout ‘em.”Legend smiled, gently tugging Four over and beginning to play with faer hair. “They’re the worst.”Four stated bluntly, eyes fixated on the running water of the river that was in front of the pair. “But, like, it’s weirdly endearing? Dub as shit, skull is thicker than the hilt of a sword, but they make it cute somehow? Usually being dumb annoys me but stupidity looks good on them.” “Yeah?” “Yeah!”Four hummed as fae let Legend begin to braid faer hair. “And I don’t understand it—I don’t. But I think if Shadow ever became smarter, I’d be upset? I don’t want them to be smart. They’re perfect being dumb and I don’t know why I feel like that! It’s confusing and I don’t—I don’t get confused. They bring out the worst in me and yet I feel like the best version of myself with them. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand anything when it comes to Shadow.” “Love does that to you.”Legend shrugged softly. “Makes you an idiot. I

don’t…exactly…understand it, but if they make you happy, who cares? You’re you. You love them, and they love you. Fuck everyone else.” Four let out a hum, picking at faer skin. “Everyone else says I'm wrong. That someone like Shadow isn’t capable of love, and I’m just being used. I…If this was a couple years ago—I’d have agreed. But…” “But you’ve seen the real them?” “...yeah. Everyone—Everyone acts like Shade is pure evil, but I know they’re not. Shadow’s just…different, you know? They were never in control. They didn’t get to choose before. They never got a choice before. Shit, Legend, they didn’t even know they could choose before. They were so used to being summoned and forced to do other people’s bidding that they didn’t know they could choose how they wanted to live!”Four chewed on faer lip, frowning. “...and then I lost them for a good few years.” Legend’s hands stilled, and a frown replaced the smile he had. “I lost Shadow for…what, two, maybe three years? It…was the most miserable time of my life, lemme tell ya.”Four let out a sad little laugh. “Yeah…I spent so long trying to get them back. Lots of sleepless nights, lots of failed rituals…lots of failed everything. It sucked. Nothing seemed to work. I almost gave up.” “Why didn’t you?” A silence. It lasted about two minutes, before Four let out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to let go. I didn’t want to admit that Shadow was gone.” i guess that's the difference between us. we accepted marin was gone four didn’t accept shadow was, though Legend shook his head gently, continuing to braid Four’s hair. “How’d they come back?” “Honestly…I still don’t know.”Four laughed, smiling faintly. “I wish I did. I wish I knew how they came back, but..I never questioned it, you know? The love of my life who was supposed to be dead just…came back to me one day. I didn’t think to ask how or why—because I had them back and that was all that mattered…does that make me stupid?” “No.” Four isn’t stupid for it—Legend would be the same way if Marin suddenly showed up at his door. Or if his uncle was alive again. Legend thinks Four is a very lucky person. “From…my perspective, of someone who has lost…a lot of people. I would react the same way. Be happy now, ask questions later.” “...yeah.”Four smiled gently. “I’m…sorry to hear you’ve lost a lot, though.” “It’s fine,”Legend snorted. “Happened ages ago, I just brought it up to tell you you’re not an idiot for never questioning why or how your partner returned.”Legend whistled, tying a black ribbon into a bow to hold Four’s braid together. “You’re one lucky person, Four.” Four nodded, staying quiet until Legend finally backed up, tugging his tunics up. “We should head back.”Legend decided, helping Four up. The two walked back in relative silence, but with strange weights lifted off their shoulders. It didn’t need to be said that they’d keep each other's secrets, they always do.

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids - Chapter 2

Craft Projects and Failed Bonding

Chapter Summary: Roman plots against Patton in a way he thinks is threatening.

Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Panic, anxiety, implied past abuse, food mentions, and anxiety over being watched by cameras.

Word Count: 4,533

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22

Notes: Thanks to cornybird on Ao3 for helping me beta this one!

“Virgil, wake up, it’s time for breakfast!”

Roman cracked open his eyes to stare at the door. His security bar was still under the doorknob, and it sounded like Patton walked away to knock on the next kid's door, so Roman slowly lifted himself out of Virgil’s bed once the coast was clear. He hadn’t been asleep for the last two hours, so there was no point to continue lying down and risk Patton trying to get into the room to wake him up. So Roman rubbed his tired eyes to undo the security bar and put it in his backpack.

Though, speaking of his backpack…he had no idea where to put it. It wasn’t safe in Virgil’s room, but Virgil was still sleeping in Roman’s bedroom. He could take it downstairs with him, but that’s a strange thing to do during breakfast, and he didn’t want that to be the conversation opener of the day. Especially if they asked him what was inside. They weren’t allowed to know that.

Eventually, Roman settled on hiding the backpack underneath Virgil’s bed. It wasn’t the best hiding spot, but it’d work until Roman could come back and take it. He opened the door and headed downstairs, praying that he wouldn’t be the first kid to arrive.

The prayer wasn’t enough, because Roman looked around the kitchen and only saw Patton at the stove. Patton looked over at him and seemed confused, trying to hide it behind a chipper smile. “Morning, kiddo! How’d you get dressed so fast? I only knocked on your door a second ago!”

Don’t let him find out you weren’t in your room. “Oh, these are my pajamas, I haven’t gotten dressed yet. And I was already awake, so I just came right downstairs.”

Patton looked Roman up and down, and Roman shivered. “…Do you not have real pajamas, kiddo?”

“No. I like sweatpants better.”

Patton didn’t seem pleased, but he didn’t question it further. Roman sat down at the table and anxiously drummed his fingers while he waited. Eventually, Logan came downstairs fully dressed with his hair brushed, and Virgil followed not long after. His hair was a mess, and his pajamas were twisted like he just fell out of bed and rolled down the stairs to make it in time. 

Patton took one look at him and almost gasped. “Virgil, did you sleep last night? You look…a bit rough, to put it lightly.”

Virgil grunted. “I had to clean.”

Patton sighed. “Kiddo, save cleaning for the morning, okay?”

Virgil shrugged, groggily making his way to the coffee machine to try and steal some Patton already made for himself. “Virgil,” Patton chastised, “No coffee. You can go back to sleep after breakfast if you want, but you’re too young for coffee.”

Logan raised his hand. “May I have some?”

“No.”

“Darn.”

“What kinda drink do you want, Roman?” Patton asked. “And don’t say coffee.”

Coffee sounded really nice, actually, but there was no use arguing. “I’ll take milk, then.”

Patton finished emptying the contents of his pan onto some plates before grabbing three cups from the cupboard and filling them up. Two had milk while one had orange juice, and he passed them to each seat at the table. He then passed everybody their plates, with scrambled eggs and a bagel with cream cheese. Roman took his fork and tasted a bite of the eggs.

Holy fuck, Roman hadn’t had something that tasty since his grandma last cooked for him. The eggs were so soft and cheesy, and Roman could barely contain his excitement for it. He put as many eggs as he could fit onto his fork and stuffed it all in his mouth.

Patton laughed when he noticed Roman’s reaction. “Taste good, kiddo?”

Roman hummed, and Patton smiled. “Good! I learned how to make them from my roommate in college, and I haven’t looked back since!”

Roman hoped that roommate taught him how to make a lot more things then, because this was heavenly. He’d finished his entire plate of eggs so fast it was concerning, forgetting all ability to savor his food. Maybe Roman could find the recipe and steal it when Patton wasn’t looking.

Until then, Roman moved on to eating his bagel while everyone else wasn’t even close to finishing breakfast. He guessed that was a good thing. If he finished before everyone else, he could run to Virgil’s room and grab his backpack without anyone noticing. Roman chewed faster at the possibility.

Once again, the table went very silent as everyone ate and Roman tried to make a swift escape. Patton was the one to break the silence this time. “So, Roman,” he said, “How about you and I go to the store today?”

Roman froze. “…Why?”

“I’m sure there’s some stuff you need. School starts again in two days, so we need to get you some school supplies, and maybe we can get some stuff to decorate your room with too!”

“Wait, school starts in two days? I thought it started in two weeks!”

Patton seemed apologetic. “In this district, the first day is this Wednesday. Usually I’d let you stay at home a little longer to get comfortable before school, but I think it’d be easier for you to start the first day when you have the chance. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you home alone for another week.”

You should leave me here alone, Roman thought. He was a little disappointed he had to go to school sooner than usual, but school was also the best excuse to leave home early and come back late. If he could get involved again in theater, he could hide out and blame his late return times on rehearsals. So maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

Patton interrupted Roman’s internal scheming. “Do you know what kinda supplies you might need, kiddo?”

Roman twirled his cup in his hand and watched the milk spin. “Binders, pencils, folders, notebooks…I only have a backpack, really.”

“We definitely need to stop by the store then! And while we’re there, we can look at all the bedroom stuff too!”

Everything in Roman made him want to decline, to tell Patton to buy him whatever and he’ll make do with what he has. His heart started to pound again, his hand gripping hard on his cup and thinking about his escape options. Then it dawned on him.

They would be going to a store. A store, full of cashiers and moms with kids and plenty of parents who might also need school supplies. If there was anywhere he could be safe while alone with Patton, it was there. And maybe if he agreed, Patton would leave him alone for a while…

“…We can go.” Roman said. Patton’s grin widened and his eyes lit up.

“Great! So, just get ready once you finish breakfast, and we can head out! Logan, you’ll be in charge while Virgil takes a nap.”

Logan nodded, and Virgil almost fell asleep on top of his plate.

Eventually, everyone finished breakfast and put their dishes away, Virgil dragging himself back upstairs and falling into bed without even closing his door. Roman carefully entered his bedroom, darting his eyes between where he hid his backpack and where Virgil was lying.

“What.” Virgil snapped, mumbling it into his pillow. Roman stopped in his tracks.

“I only need to grab my bag, then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Fuggin’ take it.” Virgil snapped.

Roman grabbed his backpack and scurried out of there, closing the door behind him. It uneased Roman to try to sleep with the door open, so he assumed someone as secluded as Virgil might be the same. It was a little way to show his gratitude for last night.

Roman walked back to his own bedroom after grabbing his backpack. However, once Roman opened the door, he finally understood what Virgil meant by “cleaning”.

The mess Roman made last night was completely gone. The bed was made, the hangers were placed back in the closet, the lightbulb was back in the lamp and the nightstand had been set back up. It was almost like last night was a bad dream that never happened, Roman’s only evidence that it had being the fact that he woke up in Virgil’s room that morning. He looked around the room again to process the change, when he noticed a piece of paper on the nightstand.

Roman picked up the piece of paper and unraveled it.

There’s no cameras in here, I checked. I also fixed your mental breakdown for you. You owe me one.

Virgil

Roman looked around the room, holding the paper tight to his chest as he examined every corner. There wasn’t a single camera in here? Not one? No, no that wasn’t possible. The camera was around here somewhere. Roman knew it.

He looked around again, three times, looking under objects and in the closet, feeling the pit in his stomach grow when all his searches came back futile. He knew it was here somewhere, and he refused to let Patton win. Roman would find it.

He’d just…have to find some other place to sleep until then.

Roman shook his head as a way to erase his thoughts. He could worry about the camera later, but for now, he needed to please Patton’s attempt at getting to know him and get out of this cursed room. Roman still wrapped a blanket around himself as he got dressed, not quite able to shake his anxiety long enough to not take precautions. He changed from his pajamas to a red shirt and baggy jeans, and ran out to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Camera or not, he’d have to find a way to pay Virgil back.

***

“Roman, what’s your favorite color?”

Roman snapped out of his distant stare to look at Patton. He was looking at a display of school binders, pausing for a moment to glance at Roman and wait for an answer. The stare was so much for Roman to process that he took a step back. “Uh…red.”

“Perfect! They’ve got lots of reds!” Patton grabbed a red binder before stopping himself with a thinking expression on his face. “Though, wait, let me check the supplies website…I don’t wanna get a wrong size, or only get one when you need multiple…”

Roman went back to staring at the floor under him. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. It seemed like a great idea at first, but now Roman was here holding himself tight and trying not to cry, feeling the exhaustion set in while his anxiety made him restless. He wanted to go home and sleep, but there was nowhere to sleep. Nowhere to hide.

He’d have to search the house for hiding spots later.

“So,” Patton eventually said, “It doesn’t say exactly, so I’ll just grab a zipper binder and one two inch just in case. If you need more, I can always stop by again and buy some. What’s your second favorite color?”

Roman swallowed to fight back the tears. “Purple.”

Patton smiled. “That’s Virgil’s favorite color! So, one red zipper binder and a purple two inch. So let’s look at the pencil cases now!” Patton caught a glimpse of Roman’s pale face and his smile dropped. “…Are you okay, kiddo?”

Roman nodded. He didn’t trust himself to talk, but it seemed like Patton didn’t trust his answer. He took a step toward Roman, and Roman took two steps back. Patton frowned. “Are you sure?”

Roman nodded again. Patton ran a hand through his hair and looked around the store. Please, let’s just get this over with already.

Patton’s head stopped as his eye caught sight of a specific aisle, and he smiled in Roman’s direction. “Say, kiddo, how about you go check out the fish? I’ll be over here getting the boring stuff if you need me!”

Roman glanced at Patton’s eyes. They were soft and forgiving, but all Roman could feel when looking at them was fear. He took this as his moment, spinning around on his heel and almost sprinting toward the fish aisle. Anywhere was better than being near Patton.

Roman looked at the walls of fish tanks with fish of all kinds of colors, watching them swim around as the filter’s bubbles reached the roof. There were some that were swimming around each other, and others that stopped in place for long periods of time. Roman held himself and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

It was more peaceful away from Patton, at least. Roman felt a little less sick and his hands weren’t shaking as badly, focusing on the fish to calm himself down. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it worked. That’s all Roman could really ask for.

He watched the fish swim around and read their species facts for a while, until he couldn’t feel tears in his eyes anymore and the nausea was tamed. Roman walked through the aisle to look at the fish tank decorations and other pet toys. He picked up a chew toy for a dog and squeaked it, awkwardly messing with the toys and trying to keep Patton in his peripheral vision. It felt odd to be standing around in a pet aisle with no plans of buying anything.

Well, Roman thought, Patton never told me I had to stay in this aisle. It was only a suggestion. I could move on to another part of the store.

Roman looked at where Patton was one more time so he could remember his spot. It seemed like he was checking the supply list on his phone and thinking hard about colored pencils, and Roman hoped he would be occupied with that for a while more. He walked out of the aisle and looked above him for ideas on where he should go next.

Bathroom, no. The bakery would be wonderful if I could buy a donut myself. Clothes, baby items, plants…wait! Roman’s eyes lit up as he read another one of the signs. Hardware!

Roman always loved searching through hardware. He was a craft person at heart, and the aisles always gave him ideas for new things to try and make. Besides, Patton told him they were going to look for decorations for his room, maybe he could get inspiration there!

Roman entered the hardware aisle and began to look around. Because this wasn’t a hardware store there wasn’t much, mostly small items like door hinges and hook sets. There was also a doorknob you could only open with a code that Roman wanted, but there was no way Patton would let him install that. But maybe he could find something else to make his room safer.

Roman passed some other items, including some lightbulbs and a security camera displaying the screen that made Roman shiver when he passed by, but eventually Roman saw it. Ideas swarmed in his head and a big grin bloomed onto his face. It was perfect!

“There you are, kiddo!” Roman jumped at the sound of Patton approaching, looking up to see him with a basket full of school supplies. Patton smiled to hide the worry in his eyes. “I noticed you left the other aisle and I didn’t know where to find you.”

Roman gripped harder onto the box he was holding. “Sorry, I got bored…but I found something I want for my room!”

“You did? What is it, kiddo?”

Roman held up the box to Patton. Patton raised an eyebrow at him. “…Curtain rods?”

“Yes! Sounds strange, I know, but I was thinking that I could make my own canopy bed with them! We could get some curtains and I could hang them up around the bed, and I could decorate the curtains to look beautiful! Please?”

Patton rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t know, kiddo…it sounds like a cool project! But you’d have to install them into the roof, and I’m not very good with a drill!”

“I can do it!” Roman begged, “I’ve installed lots of home stuff before, and I’m really good with tools! And if I mess up I promise I’ll fix any holes, or I’ll do some babysitting jobs to pay back anything that’s broken, just…please? Can I try?”

Patton seemed conflicted. He saw the desperate look in Roman’s eyes and sighed. “…You can try, kiddo. Just…don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work, okay?”

“I won’t be! Promise!” Roman grabbed three boxes of the largest curtain rods they had and tried to hold them under his arms. “Now, I just need some red curtains, and maybe some glittery star stickers, or some other craft supplies! And a hot glue gun, you can make beautiful raindrop decorations out of hot glue!”

Patton seemed like his head was spinning. “I’ll go get an actual cart for this, kiddo.”

And then, the hunt for supplies was on. Patton got a cart for Roman to pile the curtain rods on the bottom, failing to keep up with him as he ran from aisle to aisle searching for supplies for his ideas. All the curtains were too transparent for Roman’s liking, so he instead settled for a pack of red, flat sheets meant for a queen bed and a small pack of sewing supplies. Patton mentioned he had a glue gun at home, so Roman skipped that section of the crafts aisle and instead focused on some birthday decorations with crowns and stars as well as some stickers. The more Roman’s vision came into action, the more excited and bouncy he got.

With the opaque curtains, Roman thought, it doesn’t matter if he has a camera in my room or not. He won’t be able to see me sleep. And how cute, he won’t realize his mistake in letting me do this until it’s too late.

Roman was jumping on his heels at the thought. I’m a genius.

The checkout was long and the car ride was full of anticipation, but once Patton pulled into the driveway of the house, Roman opened the trunk and ran inside with all his items in tow. He didn’t even say hello as he ran past Virgil and Logan on the couch to head upstairs.

“Kiddo, do you want to organize supplies too?” Patton yelled once he entered the house.

“I will later!” Roman answered. He had work to do.

The first step was an experiment of patience. Roman took out all the flat sheets and folded them at the top, sewing the fold with a needle and red thread to make its own custom loop for the curtain rod. It was annoying and tedious, but necessary. Also a test on Roman’s skill of how fast he could hand sew.

He was almost done with the last sheet when a knock came to his door. “Who is it?” Roman asked.

“It’s lunch time, kiddo,” Patton answered, “I called you down a while ago. How about you take a break for some food?”

No. There was no time for breaks. Roman needed this to be done by tonight so he could finally get some sleep. “In a minute.”

“Roman, it’s been a while already. A little break won’t hurt.”

“I will in a minute!” It was a lie, but Roman had the door locked, so there was nothing Patton could do about it. Roman finished his final seam, so now it was onto installing the rods.

Roman was measuring where to put the hooks on the roof when another knock came to the door. Roman groaned like a spoiled brat. “I’m coming!”

“Roman, can you open the door?”

Roman froze. He just yelled at Patton, pushed his luck, now he had to open the door. Roman dropped the screw he was holding as his hands shaked. Shit, shit! “…Why?”

“I’ve got your lunch for you.”

Roman felt his throat close, but ignoring Patton would only make the situation worse. Roman dropped his hook and screws to open the door.

Patton was on the other side, smiling softly with a burrito on a plate and a glass of juice in his hands. “I had to reheat it, but maybe you can eat while you’re working.”

Roman dug his nails into his palm before taking the plate. “Thank you.”

“Can I come in?”

No. No, you can’t. You never can, ever. “…Sure.”

Roman scurried away from Patton to sit on his bed, drinking some of the juice and looking at what’s inside the burrito. Black beans, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, sour cream, onions, and green peppers. Roman took a bite and tried to calm himself by focusing on the taste.

“You like it?”

Roman nodded. “Never had this before.”

“It’s a black bean burrito. I found the recipe a few years ago, and I make them pretty often. Especially for growing kiddos.” Patton sat on the floor next to the mess Roman had laid out. “What are you doing now for your canopy bed?”

“I was gonna screw in the curtain hooks to the roof. I’ve just been sewing the sheets for now, which is the hardest part. I might have to sew them again though, since the sheets are so big I might have to cut them. Especially since I want to do two curtains on each end to make it look pretty.”

“Sounds cool! Do you need any help?”

Roman seemed to be thinking. Maybe if I satisfy him, he won’t be angry. “Do you know how to sew?”

“I know how to repair tears. That’s it.”

Roman took another bite of his burrito and jumped off the bed, picking up one of the sheets to examine the size. He jumped on his bed and held it up to the roof, seeing how far it would stretch. The sheet was much longer than his bed, so it would be perfect. “Take the sheets, measure them, and cut them in half right down the middle. Then I can show you how to do a catch stitch to hem the seam. That will save me some time.”

“You’re very good at hand stuff!” Patton complimented. A shiver went up Roman’s spine.

“…Yes.”

From then on, the environment was very tense. The only sound between either of them was the  drill going through the roof and the sound of scissors cutting. When Patton finished cutting, Roman showed him how to hem the seam, but it was quiet again after that. Roman kept his distance and made sure his front was always facing Patton just in case.

“I hope you don’t mind if this is a very messy sewing job, kiddo.” Patton joked.

Roman shrugged. “You won’t be able to see it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Are you gonna decorate the sheets once you’ve hung them up?”

“Yes, it’s easier that way. And I can plan it out.”

“Any reason why you chose crowns and stars?”

Roman paused long enough to drill another hook into the roof before setting the drill down to grab another hook. “I like crowns. And stars.”

“Logan loves stars.” Patton really hated silence, apparently. “I don’t know if the other kiddos showed you their rooms, but Logan’s is covered in space stuff. It was really fun to do, actually! Though, I made Logan paint the stars onto his own wall because he kept talking about how it should be accurate constellations, and I don’t know anything about stuff like that.”

“I’ve only seen Virgil’s room.”

“Oh, well, if Logan ever invites you in, know that he did lots of work for his constellation wall!”

Roman hummed and drilled the last hook into the roof. He took a curtain rod and placed it on the two hooks near the foot of his bed. “How many of the sheets have you finished?”

“Oh, I’m still on the first one. I’m learning though!”

Roman jumped off the bed to sit on the floor next to Patton, grabbing his own needle and thread to begin hemming the seam. Once he started sewing, Patton watched him with wide eyes. “You’re doing that very fast, kiddo!”

Roman shrugged. “I’ve done it a lot.”

“What do you usually sew for?”

“Clothes. To fix rips, mostly. My mom also taught me when I was younger.”

Patton seemed taken aback by his explanation. “Did…did you enjoy that time with your mom?”

“I enjoyed all my time with her.” Roman paused. “Well. Most times.”

Patton swallowed. “Most times?”

“Her and I were really close, if that’s what you're asking.” Roman’s hands sped up as he sewed. “She would take me to movies and theaters, and she taught me how to bake as good as her.”

Patton’s voice grew serious. “Well…I’m sorry for your loss, kiddo.”

“She’s not dead.”

“I’m still sorry you lost her.” Patton shook his head and focused more intently on his sewing. “But you said you can bake?”

Roman nodded. “I bake a lot, especially cake. I know how to make red velvet cake from scratch and it is lovely.”

“We should make some tomorrow, then!”

Roman tensed. “Maybe.”

Roman finished off the hem of his side and moved to cut another sheet, hemming both of their sides once he did so. The rest of the time was quiet, with Roman purposely refusing to spark conversation and Patton processing the little information Roman gave him. By the time Patton finished one end and half of another, Roman had finished all the rest and took Patton’s to quickly finish off. Roman laid them all across the floor and opened the packs of crafts he got.

“Well, kiddo, I gotta see about making dinner now.” Patton eventually said, “Tell me how the end project turns out, ‘kay?”

Roman nodded. Finally, he’s leaving. “Close the door when you leave.”

Patton smiled and closed the door on his way out. Roman focused entirely on decorating his new curtains, placing glittery stars and plastic crowns and using the hot glue gun to make crystals draping down the curtains. He repeated a similar pattern for each one, eventually hanging two on each side of the bed so they could open and close down the middle. Once the final project was finished, and the floor of his room was scattered in materials, Roman smiled wide in awe.

“Yes! I did it! I did it!” Roman jumped up and down from excitement, flopping onto his bed and closing the curtains from every side. The curtains were a bit too long and dragged too much along the floor, but he could fix that another day. For now, he’d been at it for hours, and his bed was finally a safe space.

Roman buried his face into his pillow, feeling himself relax as the exhaustion of a whole day with no sleep and debilitating anxiety finally caught up to him. He groggily checked for any cameras on the roof, but that was the only place he had to check for a camera that could see him. He was safe.

 Roman crawled under the comforter and closed his eyes. It wasn’t more than five minutes of lying there before he fell asleep, curling into himself and relaxing. Finally, he slept peacefully.

 Finally.

[weebsinstash]

Oh wow, your recent batman writing was amazing! I love how you wrote Batman, and how his obsession with control leaked into making countless notes and documents on the reader. The best and most terrifying part was definitely the revelation that not only was reader pregnant, but that Batman had known this entire time, and could've even predicted it beforehand from his knowledge of her cycles. And not only that, but he already knew the gender of the child and had decided on a name, during this time reader didn't even have an inkling whatsoever that they were pregnant!

Amazing, marvelous, wonderfully invasive you did great with this I love you

Ahhh, I'm glad you like it! I've actually been watching a ton of justice league stuff recently, and I used to get super stoned and watch Brave and the Bold and even made a lil weed themed superhero oc bc I liked the idea of batman trying to be all stoic and serious and then here's his newest sidekick getting blasted and cracking jokes. Also I've been meaning to get back into Young Justice since I see they have a new season out! I used to have kind of a thing for Kaldur 👉👈

I actually wouldn't rule out me writing more DC fics in the future, though no promises for who, and I definitely have some older works that need to be completed 😅

But on to the fic, yeah, I think Batman would be an absolutely terrifying yandere to deal with. He's got ptsd so he's more touchy when it comes to his loved ones potentially coming into harm, he's "the world's greatest detective" notorious for his intelligence, like literally they call him one of the three smartest people in the DCU besides Lex Luthor and Mr Terrific, like terrifyingly intelligent, he's got basically unlimited resources because he's a billionaire with his own personal scientists and laboratories, like... God. He sets his sights on you and it's all over man. The Wayne Manor having blast shutters isn't even a thing I just threw into the fic, that's an actual canonical thing

I must admit, I think he'd be WAY too careful to leave That Binder out for the Reader to find, but that was just plot convenience on my part. He would leave any trace of his obsession under tight lock and key. Alfred would be able to tell since Bruce is like a son to him and he knows him better than anyone else and quite frankly Pennyworth doesn't intervene at all and even helps take care of you, kidnapping and all.

I also like to think that Damien grows up to be very very protective of his mom and is still kind of a little prick to his father because he probably plays favorites. Honestly, Bruce probably eventually starts training him, not just in things like fighting, but how to take care of you, protect you, and report any suspicious behavior back to his father 😰

[simpcxty]

You said you needed ideas so hear me out-

Sfw- trans! Reader (ftm) with Tsukishima who gives tough love and hates it when you have really bad dysphoria days. Snaps at anyone who misgenders you.

NSFW- oikawa would be such a tease when you get needy and shit. Like this fucker would tease you after you beg because he told you to beg.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!! You have given me brain fuel, and for that. I love you 🧡

I have never written something in one day. Thank you, you have truly inspired me 😩👏

TW for Tsukishima: deadnaming and misgendering, deadname is your choice, but Y/n will be for your new name and Y/d/n for your dead name because no dads are mentioned here. Gets a little angsty but they figure it out.

I didn’t want to be disrespectful to anyone and choose a name that might be someone’s new name or dead name.

Also I’m sorry if my writing isn’t accurate for a ftm character. I did my best and I really hope you like it!

I did my best with the tough love but it does get a bit fluffy tbh.

Kei Tsukishima

Kei always tries.

He really does. You guys had started dating before you came out, and the switch from your dead name to Y/n had him caught off guard.

So did the sudden shift of pronouns.

But he didn’t leave, so he was trying to do his best all right?

But he’s already bad with emotions, these are a different kind that he doesn’t even know how to approach.

So he gives it the same energy he does with everything else.

Today though.

Something was very odd about today.

His normal words had you flashing him your best fake smile and turning away from him.

And trust me, he could tell the difference.

But for now, he chose not to comment.

Will it be one of those days today?

You didn’t like to talk about your Dysphoria but Kei always picked up on it.

Or at least he tried to.

He even had a custom made chest binder coming in the mail that should be here any day now.

But when you leave the room after Kei’s not incorrect but painfully blunt statement went straight to your very soul.

He replays the conversation in his head to see where he messed up.

He found himself doing that a lot.

‘I get that you’re trying Kei. It just sucks that other people don’t even bother.’

‘I don’t really think it’s that big of a deal. They’re stupid people who don’t even matter at least I’m trying. Imagine if I wasn’t?’

It made you question everything.

Did he even want to be trying?

Why are you being a nuisance?

Why are you putting him through this. He’s got much more important things to be focusing on as a senior in college this year.

You’re finally being true to yourself and putting him through unnecessary stress aren’t you? What is wrong with you?

All of these thoughts and more swarmed your head as you leaned against the bathroom counter trying to catch your breathing.

Stop it. Stop being such a big crybaby.

Kei Tsukishima doesn’t need a crybaby.

Why does it have to hurt so damn bad to just be a girl? He’d like you so much more as a girl.

“Y/n..?” His voice sounds so tired.

Damn it Y/n. Get your fucking shit together.

“Please talk to me.. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that babe.. I just-“ his eyes almost seem dull when you open the door, only to brighten when you open the door and he gets a good view of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just- I don’t, I don’t know how to handle this sometimes, but I don’t want you to think I don’t care. It’s just new, and I can get adjusted-“ he feels his heart clench a bit when your next words come out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t just stay who I was, I’m sorry I couldn’t just be a girl for-“ and he’s grabbing your face with his palms as tears start to well up in his eyes.

“Shut up. Shut up, because I love you however I can have you. I love you. I just want you, please don’t get confused and think I have a preference because I just want you Y/n. I love you, no matter who you are. Please don’t forget that.” The tears streaming down your face slow as he kisses your head and wraps his arms around you.

“Im sorry Kei.” He kisses your head again.

“Shh, stop it. Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for babe, we do need to finish getting ready for class though okay?” You nod and he smiles.

———

When you get to school, he can almost feel the anxiety wafting from you.

But he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around you and pull you along with him.

“You have me, okay? I’m just as much yours as you are mine babe.” You nod and expect him to pull him arm away, and he does, only to entangle his hand in yours.

“Tsukishima!” No- because he recognizes that annoyingly high pitched voice, and he’s not in the mood for it. Nor will you be.

So he picks up speed. Keeping his hand tight around yours and pulling you in front of him, only to wrap his arms around you slightly and speed up even more.

“Kei what are you doing?” You think he’s going to ignore you until he speaks up finally.

“Don’t want to deal with her.”

“Y/d/n can you-“ he stops right in his tracks and turns around to acknowledge the blonde.

“Alisa is it? See how easy was that? I wasn’t even sure. You know for a fact that isn’t the proper name that he goes by. So correct yourself, or don’t talk to my boyfriend or me. Got it?” She goes to speak again but Tsukishima already has you two walking again and his ears are flushed.

“Tsuki-?” You’re blushing and he tightens his grip on your waist.

“It wasn’t right, I’ll correct anyone who gets it wrong. Even myself.” You smiled and he manages to crack a small one.

Kei Tsukishima always tries.

———————————————————————

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD

I didn’t know if you still wanted a ftm character so this one is just written female.

READ RESPONSIBLY PLEASE

Characters aged up 18+

“Beg.” You scoffed.

“I don’t beg.” Your hips are rising as he pressed his thumb harder against your clit and you whimper.

“I won’t do anything more until you beg.” You rolled your eyes and attempt to sit up. Only for him to wrap a hand around your throat and push you back down.

“Toru, I don’t beg-“ he tightens his grip around your throat and you whine.

“I said, beg.” The way he demands it in your ear has your thighs attempting to clam shut.

Key word, attempting.

“Are you gonna listen to a single thing I say princess? Or am I gonna have to leave you here like this?” You looked up at him desperately and his grip around your neck loosens a bit.

“Please, please just fuck me already. I need it Toru, it’s been too long please just do it already-“ you’re cut off with whines as his tip prods at your entrance, but the pressure on your clit is still hard and you know he’s waiting for more.

“Please! Please fuck me! I need you Toru please!” He chuckles and pushes in agonizingly slowly.

“Like you said babe, it’s been too long. I need to go easy on your pretty pussy.” You whine at that.

“Don’t want you to go easy- just fuck me rough please!” Tears of frustration pool in your eyes and he laughs.

“Awe, don’t cry princess, I’ll give you what you want. You begged so nicely.” The sudden snap of his hips has you unable to respond to his taunt.

Yeah so what you begged. You’re getting dicked down by this god of a man. I’d say that’s a win.

His hands were both on your hips now as he thrusted into as if his life depended on it.

“Missed you so much.” He whines and a particularly hard thrust has you reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.

The new position has you sliding down on his dick so much easier, and the way he can just lift you up and down quickly has him whining more.

“M’gonna cum. Off.” He whimpers as you tighten and start to lift yourself off and grabs your hips. He’s never cum so fast but you don’t mind.

“T-Toru-!” He gasps as you tighten more and his hips thrust up desperately.

“Nevermind, I wanna cum inside. Please, please let me cum inside. You feel so good, just wanna cum inside your warm pussy hnngh~ please!” His hips are starting to falter and you know he’s getting closer as his hands tighten around your waist, lifting you up and down to meet with his sloppy thrusts.

“Please!” He’s begging and you almost laugh.

“Oh god please, just wanna cream inside you please!” He has to stop thrusting and you’d almost think he did cum.

But you knew better. His nails digging into your hips and his ragged breathing against your neck has you melting.

“Did you even really have to ask? Just cum babe.” Your words are so nonchalant that he’s whining and picking up his thrusts again.

“fuckfuckfuckohfuckyes” his voice is messy and it’s almost gibberish.

But as you tighten around him and his hips falter he’s moaning and whimpering into your chest and neck.

“So tight, ngHh shit~” he moans whorishly as you cum around him and cum spurts out of him and into you.

“You fuck me so good. So so good Y/n.” His hips are still sputtering and you’re wondering just how long it’s been since he’s actually gotten off.

“Thank you, Thank you so fucking much baby.” His cum is already spilling out of you and he’s still finishing.

This’ll be a fun cleanup.

He finally lays you down on the bed and lays his head in between the valley on your chest as he catches his breath.

“You begged.” He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, making you whimper while he stays inside of you.

“Do I need to remind you how you sounded when you wanted to cum Toru?” His head shoots up at that and his cheeks flush.

“But you’re so warm. So tight and comfy. I didn’t and still don’t want to leave.” He whines and wiggles his hips upward and you whimper. You can’t help but clench as he thrusts up again and whines again.

He keeps up the occasional thrusts. Neither of you have the energy for a second round. That much is obvious. But the bliss is overwhelming.

“Don’t want to pull out yet. Please don’t make me.” He whines and you just clench around him to tease.

“Fuck. Don’t do that. M’still hard and I’m ninety percent sure if you keep doing that I’m gonna stuff your already full pussy again.” You hummed and he wraps his arms around you.

“Empty threats. We’re both too tired, you know we’ll just go again when we wake up.”

“I’m gonna get you pregnant.” He says it confidently, you couldn’t even laugh at the statement. Because he probably and most definitely will.

“I mean if that’s what you want, I wouldn’t mind having a little Oikawa running around.” Almost all his stamina is back in that moment.

Congratulations you have unlocked

Breeding King with Toru Oikawa 🔓

Neither of you ended up sleeping that night.

[ificanthaveu]

Don’t Tell The RA || Shawn Mendes

Description: RA!Shawn asks for your help with studying for your final exam, but an RA should always expect the unexpected. 

A/N: Happy 1st day of my semi-not-really-ficmas! I’m positive I’ve used every winter/Christmas themed fic idea, but I scrounged together a few so here’s the first of the installment. These’ll probably all be pretty short (except for 1 probably bc i have a lot of ideas for it). Also.....if this gif doesn’t look like RA!Shawn trying to get his freshmen boys to stfu so they can start and end the hall meeting ASAP.

Word Count: 2.4k

You were the first person out of the room when your History professor dismissed you, meeting your awaiting roommate Micah across the hall. The two of you started walking back to your dorm without much of a word until she launched into how difficult her calculus exam is going to be.

“At least it’s related to your major. I’m about to fail a gen-ed,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “I’ve never liked History, and this is a literal nightmare.”

“Hey, only one more test, and we’re done,” she reminded you.

Before you could respond to her, you heard your name being yelled from behind you. The both of you stopped and turned around to see Shawn maneuvering his way in and out of people, his tall stature poking out from the rest as you smiled at him.

“Have you started studying for the final yet?” He asked as he fell into step with you and Micah, making your way out of the building.

You practically snorted with a head shake before you said, “Absolutely not. I’ve been so caught up in my biology classes that I’ve barely started looking at this. It’s not looking good for me.”

“We get it. You’re pre-med,” Micah mumbled before you elbowed her.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve cracked open the textbook since the first week,” he said.

“Oh, you opened yours? Mine’s still in the plastic wrap,” you said as proud as you could.

That earned a laugh from Shawn as he shook his head at you.

“You may be worse off than I am,” he said.

He paused for a moment, looking between you and where he had to turn to go to the freshman dorms, opposite campus from the junior ones.

“Would you wanna study tonight?” He asked.

You heard Micah choke on her breath as you prayed he didn’t hear it.

“Yeah, I definitely need it,” you replied.

“Can’t do it in our room,” Micah interjected quickly. “Josie is coming over for calc.”

“We can study at mine,” he said. “If that’s ok with you of course. We just might get interrupted by check-out questions.”

“Sounds just fine with me. I could never do what you do,” you said, looking up at him as he shrugged and looked away, the blush almost evident on his cheeks.

“Well, my room and board is paid for, so I’ll deal with throwing up freshmen in the bathroom at 2 am,” he said. “Does 7 work?”

“Sounds perfect,” you said as you turned to go towards your dorm. “See you then.”

Micah followed behind you as you began to cross campus, waiting until you were clearly out of earshot of Shawn.

“You really had to say we couldn’t do it in our dorm?” You asked as you gripped onto her wrist and she laughed. “Now I have to be extra alone with him.”

“That’s the point,” she said flatly. “Don’t act like you haven’t been staring at him all semester. That man is the total package.”

“And we’re studying together, nothing else,” you quickly pointed out.

“Well it may start that way but-“ you cut her off before she could finish.

“Don’t say something that won’t come true,” you said as you swiped into the building and walked up the stairs to your dorm.

“You wish it will though,” she said in a sing-song voice as you unlocked your door and pushed her in.

“So what are you wearing?” She asked as she whipped open your closet.

“I’m not changing,” you said.

Micah turned around and looked up and down at your sweatpants and sweatshirt with a look of disgust.

“Can you at least put leggings on and a clean sweatshirt? Maybe put your hair in a pony-tail instead of that bun that looks like it was slept in - scratch that - a bun that was slept in,” she said as she threw you a pair of black leggings and a school crewneck.

“This is ridiculous,” you mumbled as you changed.

“You’ll thank me later,” she called after you.

It had started snowing by the time 6:45 came around, and you began your trip across campus. You were regretting not wearing a jacket as you shivered and crossed your arms tightly around your chest.

The person at the front desk smiled at you as you made your way up to Shawn’s dorm, scanning the rooms for the one that said “Residential Assistant” on the front.

You knocked twice once you found it, rocking back and forth on your feet and trying to shake the cold. You glanced around at the winter-themed decorations around the hall before Shawn swung the door open.

“Hey,” he said brightly with that big smile that made you weak. “You look freezing.”

“I am,” you said as he welcomed you in. “Big mistake not wearing a coat.”

You scanned over his room quickly as he shut the door behind the two of you. He had white Christmas lights strung along his window, making for a beautiful reflection mixed with the snow. His overhead light was off, but the lamp beside his futon was on. It was surprisingly clean, but you attributed that to him never knowing when someone was going to need to talk to him.

Two mugs were situated on his desk in the corner of the room. He crossed the room and grabbed one and handed it to you.

“It’s mint tea,” he said. “Helps with studying.”

“Ah, of course,” you said, taking the mug and sitting on his, surprisingly comfortable, futon.

“And a blanket,” he said as he pulled it from the back of the couch. “Since you look like you might have hypothermia.”

“Thank you,” you said softly as you wrapped it tightly around your shoulders.

You pulled out your book and binder, flipping to the study guide that was handed out in class.

“Ok, where do you want to start?” You asked as Shawn pulled his slightly crumpled study guide from where it was tucked in his book.

“Well, I know nothing,” he said as he scanned over the paper. “Actually, I know one.”

“Which one?”

“The one he told us the answer for today.”

“That does not count.”

The two of you determined an order to study from as you kept his open textbook balancing on both of your knees, occasionally having to lean closer to the other to take a look at a passage.

Shawn skimmed the page, pointing at a passage and trying to explain it to you as you looked at him. You couldn’t hear a word he said as you watched how into the topic he got, using his hands to try to express his point. You sent the butterflies to the bottom of your stomach by taking a giant sip of the tea and moving onto the next question.

He asked you the next one, taking the textbook from you as you leaned an arm on the back of the futon. You glanced between him and the mini Christmas tree in the corner as you tried to explain it as best you can without the book as a crutch.

You looked back at him, his head cocked to the side and an interested look on his face. A few curls fell onto his forehead as he studied you. You tried to keep talking as his gaze was unwavering.

“Sounds right to me,” he said, his face dangerously close to yours as he also leaned his arm on the back.

“I honestly wouldn’t know,” you whispered. “Were you even looking at the book to make sure I was right?” You teased.

“I had something else I had to look at,” he said at the same volume.

You felt him lean in as you did the same. You could feel his breath fan over your lips as your hand rested on his knee.

Three solid knocks sent you flying away from each other.

Shawn cursed under his break as he stood up and swung the door open quickly.

“What?” He said to the kid in front of him, who was significantly shorter than Shawn.

“Kevin knocked over the-“ he paused as he saw you watching from across the room. “Oh, sorry, Shawn, I didn’t realize you had a girl over.”

You choked on your sip of tea as Shawn shoved the kid out the door and slammed the door behind him.

You pulled yourself together as you could hear Shawn’s muffled voice through the paper-thin walls.

“Why the fuck would you say that with her right there?” He said.

“I didn’t know! I would’ve gotten the RA on duty if I knew you were on a date,” the kid yelled back.

You could hear Shawn huff and could imagine him tugging at his hair.

“It’s nothing, Cade. It’s literally nothing at all,” Shawn said quickly. Your stomach dropped.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” the kid - Cade - teased back.

“Just tell me what’s going on, so I can study, which is the only thing we were doing,” he trailed off as you could hear the two of them walking down the hall.

You tried not to let yourself get too disappointed as you half packed up some of your stuff, not wanting to overstay your welcome if he didn’t see anything here. You felt yourself begin to overthink, wondering what would’ve happened if he kissed you. If he just wanted something quick before break, a finale to your semester together in class.

You waited patiently, your chin resting on your knees as you tried to look at the study guide with no luck.

The door swung open once again as Shawn came back. He shut the door behind him, running his hands through his hair as he looked over at you, noticing nothing but your study guide sitting out. He felt his stomach drop but didn’t say anything.

“Ok, where were we?” He said as he sat down again, dangerously close as his thigh grazed across yours.

Your breath hitched as he looked over at the study guide in your lap, looking at your one newly highlighted point.

You looked up at him as he asked you a question on the point. It was obvious he was looking at your lips.

You tried to answer the question and steady your shaky voice, but he leaned closer. Before his lips had the chance to press against yours, you rested your hand against his chest.

“Shawn…” you trailed off. “I can’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” he quickly said. “I didn’t - I thought - I’m sorry, I thought there was…” he trailed off as he tried to motion between the two of you as he leaned back.

“I just,” you paused as you let out a breath. “I really don’t want to be a one-night thing before you go back home.”

“Why would you think that?” He asked, an upset look clearly on his face.

“It’s nothing. It’s literally nothing at all,” you quoted him as you played with the edge of the study guide.

He looked at you confused as you looked down at the page, trying to distract yourself.

“Why would you say that? I don’t think this is just nothing,” he said.

“Shawn, these walls are paper-thin,” you snapped as you looked up at him. “I heard you telling the kid that this was nothing, and I don’t want nothing. So I’m stopping it here.”

He rubbed his forehead softly as you tucked your study guide into your binder, opening your backpack to put it away.

“I’m not going to tell one of my residents that he just interrupted something,” Shawn said quickly. “They’re my residents. I’m not about to tell them about my love life. I didn’t know you’d hear that. I swear I don’t think this is just nothing. I just don’t want them to know that stuff about me. There’s no reason to. I’m so sorry if it came off as any other way.”

You watched him continue to get flustered as he stayed relatively close to you, his hand almost hitting your shoulder as he spoke.

“I’ve been crazy about you since the beginning of the semester. I don’t just want to kiss you and forget,” he explained, leaning close to you again.

“Really?” You asked softly.

He smiled back at you, his hand almost resting against your shoulder as he draped it against the back of the futon.

“Really,” he replied.

This time when he leaned in, you let him kiss you. His hand enveloped the side of your face as you rested your hands gently on his chest. He tugged on your hip, and you followed his lead as you climbed onto his lap, smiling into the kiss as his hands stayed planted on your hips, gripping into your sides.

You pulled back before pecking his lips once more, leaning your forehead against his so you could see his big smile.

You glanced outside to see the snow getting worse as you let out a sigh.

“I should get going,” you whispered.

“But it’s a blizzard out there,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “And you don’t have a coat.” Another kiss at the corner of your lips. “Just stay,” he whispered as his lips met yours again.

“I don’t want to get us in trouble,” you whisper back.

“I know the RA. Don’t worry about it. I can pull some strings if he finds out,” he said with a cocky smile as you rolled your eyes, leaning in again.

“Won’t the residents know?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Let ‘em talk,” he said as his hand rubbed up your side, sending shivers across your body. “I won’t see them for over a month anyway.”

“Well, as long as the RA doesn’t find out, I think maybe I can stay,” you whispered as Shawn flipped you over so your back pressed against the futon and he hovered above you.  

“I’ll make sure he never finds out.”

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