#but im trying to be normal here cut me some slack

[hexcrispy]

HELLOOOOO SAILORRRR

[stevie-petey]

blurb idea? stug isn't having sex yet obviously but maybe dustin walks into bug's room while they're lying really close on her bed reading together and he flips his shit like OH MY EYES and they're like ...boy we're literally just sitting here. and steve's over for dinner and dustin refuses to look at him and claudia's like ok what's up and you're like literally nothing he's so dumb

i love dramatic dustin with stug so YES !!

enjoy <3

"so jo just rejects laurie? like, flat out, brutally rejects his marriage proposal after years of being best friends and basically already in love?"

"i mean, there are some nuances youre missing, but yeah. basically."

"what kind of sick book is this?" steve shoves the book away from him in disdain. his nose is scrunched up, offended, and you refrain from kissing it all better.

you fix a piece of hair thats fallen in his face as he lays next to you on your bed. "jo and laurie are tragic, i'll admit." your words are rough from reading for hours. steve always insists that you read the books for him, he claims youre better at it, but you know its because he loves the sound of your voice. "but its what makes the book so wonderful, dont you think?"

steve rolls his eyes at you. "your obsession with tragic romances concerns me. what, are you going to reject my proposal next? make me beg on my hands and knees for you?"

"technically you already did beg on your hands and knees for me-"

"wait, you didnt say youd accept my proposal."

with a sly laugh you clear your throat and bring the book back up to your face, continuing to read. steve stares at you as you read the heartbreaking words aloud, his eyes travel the length of your neck and the slope of your nose. the scene youre reading breaks his heart more than hed care to admit. youve been reading little women to steve for a few weeks now. he really thought itd be jo and laurie in the end.

lost in the way you voice lilts between jos soft rejection and lauries broken pleads, neither you nor steve hear dustin calling for you until its too late.

the boy barges into your room and nearly shrieks his head off when he realizes steve is in bed with you. "my eyes!" he cowers to close the door, covering his face with his grubby little hands.

"dustin!" you shout at him, throwing a pillow at him to shut up him. hes being dramatic, you and steve werent even doing anything. your boyfriend is lying next to you while you read him a long and horrendous breakup scene from a classic book. if anything, the two of you should be doing literally anything else.

steve rolls off your bed and lands on his feet in one fluid motion before running over to your brother. grabbing dustins shoulders, he shakes him to try and stop the screaming. "hey! alright, can you quit it?"

"no! you were-you-my eyes!" dustin scrubs at his face with utter turmoil. he hadnt even known that steve was in his house. normally the asshole makes his presence known, stops by dustins room to say hi. its why he barged in in the first place.

had dustin known hed walk into steve in your bed, he wouldve brought a goddamn flame thrower with him instead.

"we were reading, you moron!" youre next to steve now, desperately trying to quiet your brother before your mom asks whats going on. hes already bad enough, but if your mother finds out steve had been in your bed as well, thered be permanent hearing loss.

"read at your desk! thats what those damn things are built for!"

steve shoves his hand through his hair, agitated. "oh, and who are you? the desk police?"

"'desk police'?" you stare at the teen, disappointed. "thats the best you could come up with?"

"im under a lot of pressure right now. cut me some slack."

"i want you dead."

both you and steve turn to dustin, shocked and disturbed by his words.

"okay, thank you for sharing your feelings, dustin." awkwardly you pat his shoulder. at least hes being honest and open with you. "not necessarily what i wanted to hear, but im proud of you for sharing-"

"he wants me dead and youre commending him?"

"not now," jamming an elbow into steves side, you shut him up and focus on your brother again. "now, is there a reason you barged in or can we go back to reading?"

dustins grimace on his face seems permanent now. his nose is slightly upturned, his eyes distrusting. narrowing them at you, he takes slow, calculated steps back out of your room. "dinner is ready," he says tersely before leaving entirely.

"well, this will be fun." steve sighs, and you nod grimly.

dinner is not fun.

dustin doesnt look steve in the eye the entire time. he sits as far away as possible from the teen. when asked to pass the bread, dustin pointedly ignores steves request and throws a roll to you. the bread nearly knocks your mothers water over and shes finally had enough.

"goodness, dusty! what has gotten into you tonight?" she exclaims, settling the glass that threatens to spill.

mouth full of mashed potatoes, his eyes light up evilly. before he can even think about opening his obnoxious mouth, you kick him underneath the table. your foot connects with his shin and dustin wheezes mashed potatoes all over his meal.

"dusty!" your mother gasps, alarmed. she looks at you in concern while steve snorts into his glass of water. "what is going on with you three?"

"nothing, mom." grabbing the bread that was thrown at you, you pick it apart with your fingers and make a delighted sound. "dinner is lovely tonight, by the way."

"i love what youve done with the mashed potatoes, mrs. henderson." steve is quick to add, jumping in. he makes a whole show of scooping up the mashed food and shoving it into his mouth, moaning in pleasure. "is there garlic in this?"

your mother, always easily distracted, claps her hands with joy. "why, yes! i wanted to try something different. do you really like it?"

"i adore it."

later that night you find yurtle the turtles mealworms underneath your pillow.

[bigsnzstanacct]

Okay anon who wrote in about an actor having to sneeze during an interview or something to that effect, it won’t let me answer your ask but here is what I wrote!!

First off, before I talk too much, the great @matilda3948 once wrote almost exactly this scenario as a commission for me and whew it was… very very hot. So Im sure I won’t do justice to that but here’s my attempt…

Everybody who’d ever watched, cut, or lived through a blooper reel on one of his projects knew Irving had a loud sneeze. Like, really loud. Like, cover your ears and maybe your head til the storm passes loud. Like, why is a bear bellowing all the way from the woods to the Warner lot and why does it sound like it’s right by my ear loud. But for all that he enjoyed, even perhaps leaned into his loud sneezes when it didn’t matter, he prided himself on never having been inescapably overcome in a moment when it would actually affect something negatively. It was something like a mental block—he always managed to squelch or ignore or forestall the urge in the middle of dramatic takes, fancy panels, major interviews, etc. Now, would he blow eardrums out in the green room backstage? Yes. Had more than one fan recorded him roaring it out the second he was away from a mic, as loud as though he’d been right on it? Absolutely. But had he actually interrupted anything significant? No, no he hadn’t.

Until today.

He was doing his best to smile through the urge, but he hadn’t properly answered a question in the past five minutes. Normally he’d be jumping in, tagging funny jokes at the end of his co-stars comments,

But here he was, in the middle of the panel for The Ocean’s Roar, afraid to speak a single syllable for fear that his barely-held-in sneeze would rapidly become not-at-all-held-in, and in fact would become loudly-suddenly-and-dramatically-released. Shit. He hadn’t felt like this since college, sitting through exams trying not to erupt and put the other students off their concentration. And his sneezes had gotten worse since then. He’d become a dad since then. He didn’t want to believe it, and it was probably just getting older but he could swear that as soon as he had kids, his sneezes went nuclear. He’d always had loud sneezes, but he swore even he’d never be as absolutely thunderous as his dad was… and then he’d turned thirty-five, had kids, and nearly blown his own eardrums out.

His sneezes had only gotten bigger since then.

Four seats to Irving’s left, Ja’Marcus King was leaning forward into the mic when he caught sight of Irving and his nose.

“Aw hell…” Ja’Marcus chuckled into the mic, “storm’s brewing!”

The whole cast looked, and as soon as Ja tipped his head in Irving’s direction, the whole panel started chuckling.

“Uh… Irving, do we need to put out a storm warning?” One cast member joked.

“To those of you in the audience, you might want to put in your earplugs if you’ve got em.” Another laughed, dramatically putting her hands over her ears.

At this point Irving was chuckling to himself, even as the itch in his nose was demanding nearly all his focus. “C-cut a guy some sl-slack, I wasn’t g-gonna… gonna…” but talking was only making it worse. Way worse. He couldn’t help it. Irving had a deep, heavy voice. A resonant voice. And right now all that resonance was making the buzzing in his nasal cavities ever more buzzy… so buzzy that… he was… he couldn’t… he had to…!

“He’s gonna blow!” Ja’Marcus laughed, before fully hiding under the table (100% commitment to the bit, always), just as Irving gave in to his nose’s demands:

“HHHHHAAAAAAARRRRRRRRSSSSSSCCCCCHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” He bellowed, thankfully away from his own mic, but it wasn’t as though nearly every mic in the building couldn’t pick it to some extent, the squealing feedback a high-pitched aftershock to the thunder of his Irving’s sneeze.

“S-sorrrryyyguys… o-onemooohHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTCCCCHHHHHHUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! HEhhHHHHHH… agaihHHHHH… HHHHHHHEEETTTTTTSSSCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOO!!! Damn, sorry y’all something really tickled my nose.”

The crowd laughed, Irving was so embarrassed he’d swear you could see the warm blush even underneath his dark skin, and Ja’Marcus warily emerged from the table, clinging to the mic like a survivor of a storm: “is he done?”

The crowd laughed again, even harder this time, and Irving just rolled his eyes and grinned an embarrassed grin. “Sorry again y’all… just… allergies. And I’m done, Ja—are you done?”

“With the bit?” He shot back, “never.”

“And that, ladies and gentlemen,” cut in the moderator, “was The Ocean’s Roar. Nice job, Irving, really living up to your character today” he joked.

And as the panel got back to normal, Ja’Marcus smirked to himself. He knew he’d find a cologne that would set off the big guy sooner or later. This was going to be fun…

[i-sveikata]

please don’t be mad at me for this but can we cut some slack for vegas too? he didn’t have the most loving father who dedicated his life to raise a perfect kind child right? 😭 he was raised to be an actual weapon or something to be disregarded once he served his purpose. he never needed to choose his words “kindly” after all. worse, except for macau he never had someone to care for 😭 and he just lost his father. he may not love him but his whole life purpose was to serve him or to gain his approval. he just lost his purpose!! 😭😭

i’m not saying what he did was right or pete should forgive him asap, he still needs to pay for the consequences of his actions but sometimes i want to pat his hair too. he wants to be loved, and loved by pete only 😭 until now he never had wanted anything or anyone for himself. always for his father, for minor family or for scheming for the mafia. he’s learning too. learning to be normal, learning to love and care for someone 😭 for the first time ever someone is important for him.

anon what do you meannnnnnn lmao this fic has cut vegas sooo much slack considering the things he's done. it might seem a little unforgiving of him at times but thats because its literally from petes pov??? and hes the person who vegas did all these horrible and fucked up things to??

pete is understandably going to have some biases towards him and trauma surrounding that which makes him less than sympathetic toward vegas' struggles even if they might be heartbreaking to the audience.

honestly i would say this fic is an absolute journey in cutting vegas some slack. like the normal thing to do would be to remove a person like this out of your life and seek therapy but instead pete has given him the chance to prove he can do better and vegas has absolutely delivered on that front and shown that he is absolutely capable of treating people well despite what others have assumed about him.

tbh pete's opinions and treatment of vegas has changed over the course of the fic too. and pete is fully aware of all of these things which have impacted vegas' life which makes it easier for him to understand the behaviour yes but it simply doesnt excuse it. remember also that pete had a horrible father and he didn't allow that trauma to control him to the point that he was intentionally inflicting pain on others and lashing out so that makes it even harder for him to sympathise with vegas' behaviour too because he can't relate to that.

but tbh pete is patting him on the head?? like hes been literally taking care of him so gently the past few chaps and being protective of him and giving him affection when he needs it so im not sure what else kind of slack youre asking for anon??? because i think considering the circumstances pete has given vegas way more than he deserved. or wait are you talking about future events to happen? im a little lost here but vegas is still figuring it out and doing his best but that doesnt mean that hes always going to get it right because he has a lot of complicated and destructive behaviours that hes trying to unlearn.

[doxiedreg]

Ask game: 2, 7, 22? :]

2. what's your favorite thing about your style I absolutely love the way I render things and how colorful and vibrant my art is! And! How I try to make the background a real environment for the character featured in it, even if abstract. I know that's 3 things but I think i deserve a lil confidence boost for myself 7. show us a WIP

god I have so many abandoned art pieces and also just concept sketches to visualise ideas. I'll throw in a few here, this is a question that can be asked multiple times

old thorn sketches im still very fond off, especially that big headshot

attempt number 300 to create a behemoth form for thorn that im satisfied with, i dont know why it's so fucking hard. I am not 100 percent happy with this one either. I just want him to feel unique, massive and heavy with some bull and big cat influence. I also want to include tusks since in mythology the behemoth is often elephant like

Vampire demon lord Thorn AU because i love putting my favorite boy in different constumes. again not satisfied with this design. Also haven't rped it in a while so my muse for it is gone at the moment but maybe it will come back some day. This thorn is so fucking angsty and bitter you have no idea. Has so many huge walls around his heart If you want to see more wips/unfinished graveyard pieces you guys will just have to send ask number 7 again 22. what inspires you? In my childhood, the dragonology books were a huge passion and creative influence for me. Especially the illustrations by douglas carrel. Another book illustrator that i was kinda obsessed with was chriss riddell, just love how detailed their illustrations are Ghibli studio's style I always love. Just watching their movies is such a treat, I always feel so full of inspiration. As for current inspirations? Honestly the artists I follow and the music i listen to. I always draw the best art when my spotify shuffle liked songs playlist has just the right flow and it fuels me! And when I see other artists share info on their characters or glimpses into their oc projects it makes me want to work on my characters!! And when my fav artists upload an art piece with such good shapes and colors and compositions?? Augh it makes me want to draw. Oh an animatics! I love watching animatics! Especially for musicals they are so fucking good and so many talented artists it fills me with joy. just gives me straight up shivers!! Another thing that fuels me is the reactions of you guys and my friends! I want to share my characters and art and use them to engage with people. Get them interested in my world, inspire them, just engage with the community, get talking! So yeah art is very important to me haha. Normally I get really mad when im in a dryspell like this but seeing how i drew 18 art pieces last month im cutting myself some slack haha, i deserve some rest after that, especially since my routine and energy levels are extremely wack right now, i need to recover. Heck that turned out way longer and more passionate than i expected, I hope you didnt mind the ramble! Feel free to send more questions owo

[glockenspielwhenever]

the ability to speak, yet not saying a word

i am a 14 year old pakistani-american girl, and it's not easy living as a somewhat-traditional family. as a kid, i got bullied. a lot. this didn't affect me until later on, like now, and it still haunts me to this day. i struggle with anxiety and because of that i grew up as a really shy girl. on top of that, i tended to be ignored or made fun of by others just because i was nerdy and liked to read. 5th grade was the worst: my teacher go me to admit to her that i had no friends. i did have one, actually, my best friend, but at the beginning of 5th grade i cut her off. it got so bad that my teacher had to have a parent-teacher conferece with my mom about my social life. then, right before 7th grade, i got pulled out of school and joined an online school. this made things worse, because now i had absolutely zero human interaction, and i would basically never leave the house. i had to explain to all the people i knew that i still go to school, but it's online now. they'd just give me weird looks and ignore me and start talking to my friends. its humilating. this affected me so badly that i started self-harming. i would choke myself tens of times a day. i dont do it much anymore, but i still do it from time to time. online school has been difficult, because in regular school i was easliy the smartest student, but in online i started to slack a lot and got horrible grades. this led to me having to take summer school before 8th grade, and here i am. life hasnt been easy and ive never been able to tell anyone this, not even my mom. no matter how much she loves me, she could never understand what i go through. i love her, and i dont want to put her through any pain because of me. ive already caused her enough trouble. and when it comes to things like mental health, its basically unheard of here. everyones so normal in a way that i could never be. it kills me a little everyday to see my best friend thriving at her new school, coming back and telling me about her new friends, classes, teachers, crushes, and im just boring old me, stuck at home on my laptop everyday, just trying to get through the day. no one, not even my best friend, knows about the self harm and the other things. they wouldnt understand. im just hoping that someone over here can relate, or at least give me some advice.

[fappellmoan]

i will say i do think some of you are absurdly hard on nancy as a character like. you can just not like her and move on you know

[angelic-vibez]

Jungkook x f!readers | Bully

Genre; Hella angsty but with fluff ending.

Warning; bullying, violence, Kisses....? I guess ..

Summary; Jeon Jungkook is your bully. But doesn't like the thought of someone else bothering you let alone hit you.

Jeon Jungkook. The man that feels like he's destined to make your life miserable and is actually successfuly doing so. You always thought he must be a psycho, out of his damn mind to bully people in college.

The man never cuts you some slacks. The classic smacking your books out of your hand and sending your papers flying around in the hall ways was his daily religious ritual. His assignments were yours to complete, no matter how exhausting. Whatever he orders, you're obligated to do.

You sometimes would wish you'd go back in time to change what you did even though it was the right thing to do. You stood up to Jungkook when he was bullying an innocent boy along with his stupid friends. Ever since then, it was never the same. And as much as you wanted helping that poor boy and you tried, you wished you had stayed hidden to avoid the never ending trouble you are still in to this day.

Libraries. The quiet place you get some peaceful reading aren't so peaceful anymore. He had dropped a damn living spider in your hair causing you to shoot up from your seat abruptly and tried to shaking it off your hair as you screamed on top of your lungs. Turns out, it was fake. He held his stomach, trying hard not to fall off his chair as he laughed so hard while you got kicked out.

Cafeterias aren't a safe place too. Like when he flipped the tray of food all over you as he walked by chuckling as if it was nothing was his normal routine.

Waking up everyday to go to class has been a dreadful experience so far. Or at least until you make it into one. The only time you feel like you could breath a little is when your in class. You were a freshman and he's a third year student so you never had the same class. That's why you started to spend a little more time in class just to catch a break and it was also the reason why Jungkook spread rumors about you sleeping with your professor to get the grades that you got for studying your ass off day and night. It was just traumatizing.

You had thought you'd live the aesthetic college life you dreamed of since highschool ended. But no. Not when Jeon freaking Jungkook was alive.

Gums he'd stick in your hair, trip you over so you'd fall face first, the lies he tells to get you in trouble. It was getting way out of hand but whose gonna tell on Jeon Jungkook? Unless they desperately have a death wish.

Half of freshman year has passed with you leading a horrible life so far. You've definitely decided to transfer to anywhere after the year ends at this point.

_

An ordinary day for you as you let you dark long hair cover you, books clutched in your arms tight, back pack slung over your shoulders as you walked down the hall head held down with your friend beside you continously ranting about something you quiet didn't hear.

*bump*

You crash into a big figure. You sighed thinking it's Jungkook. But you were terribly wrong. You looked up only to find another face. Infuriated one. You looked down to see he was holding an open soda. Which has also spilled all over his white shirt.

"What the fuck?" He spits at you.

"Im- I'm so sorry- I didn't- I wasn't looking"

He takes step towards you giving you a dirty look. "Hey, she apologized. Move along retard" your friend defends you.

"T'fuck did you just call me?" He turns to her and grabs her by the collar of her shirt.

"Hey! Stop it!" You tried defending but-

*SMACK!!*

One back handed slap right across your cheek sent you flying straight to the floor. You felt dizzy from the harsh blow you received. The hall way went silent after gasps where heard here and there. Your vision begin to blurr. Hot tears streamed down your cheek as the man finally let's go your friend and walks over you.

"What the fuck? What was his problem anyway? He got some anger issues or something? Who hits a girl?" Your friend says as you were both sat down in lecture hall waiting to begin the class. Your metal bottle of water on your cheek to ease the stinging pain and burning sensation.

"It's my fate" you chuckled.

"*tsk* girl shut up! We are definitely reporting that psycho. This stupid bullying needs to stop" she shakes her head and scoffs making a mental note for later.

Everyone stole glances at you at school that day as they whispered to eachother. They were surprised that you actually made it alive. You were at the cafeteria to eat lunch. You expected the same bullying there as you held your tray to make it to your table. You peacefully did and it was a miracle.

You did not glance at Jungkook to notice the unusual concerned look he was giving you. But then he was red. In boliong rage as he sat among he's group of friends who were unusually quiet. His eyes followed you as you sat with your friend, long black hair covering your small face and the trauma it has received earlier.

In the midst of your conversation you looked up when you felt a preense and you saw Jungkook towering over you. To say he was infuriated would be a completle and utter understatement. You looked at him back at your friend and back at him as you swallowed.

You were scared. You tried to think what went wrong. What you had done.

"Oh" you say as it clicked and fish through your bag to find the papers "I-Ive done the assignment" you say innocently handing him the papers. Just like always the paper went flying from your hands but this time it was technically his not yours. Frowning a little you got up to collect them but he sat you right back down as he also sits down facing you before pulling you closer to him. You thought you were going to recive another blow today and shilded yourself holding your hands up while squeezing you eyes shut.

"Let me see!" He growls grabbing your face and pushing you hair behind your ear to observe the giant red mark evidence of what he had been hearing the whole morning. His jaw clenched as your tears threaten to spill. His chest heaved with each breath he took and you were finally out of his grasp. Through your blurred vision you could see his figure storming toward the group of guys and picked the one that looked quiet familiar to you. And before you knew it, he was throwing his fists like there was no damn tmorrow.

Few seconds into the fight and a crowd formed around, some students jumped in to separate the two before they killed eachother. Or rather before Jungkook killed him because even though he did take some blows, it was nothing compared to the damage he had done.

You suddenly feel light headed, witnessing the incident that unfolded before you. "Oh my god" was the last thing you whispered before the darkness consumed you completlety and you fell to the floor.

It took your friend a couple of seconds to pull her eyes off the men. She looks to the side and you weren't there where you stood seconds ago. She looks down to see you laying lifeless on the floor.

"Oh my God! Y/n!"

_

You woke up feeling your head aching. You shifted a little before your eyes open to stare at the white ceiling above you. You blink a few times before you pull yourself up and observed your surrounding. Your eyes widen as you found yourself in a completley unfamiliar room, laying on a bed.

You looked around completley baffled by your current situation. You scan around the room. The walls were painted black and the room had a quiet dark aesthetic. But the question was, why were you here?

After ganing full conciouness, you pull yourself off the bed and got up to investigate.

"Careful" you hear a strangely familiar voice. Head snapping towards its direction. And..Jungkook? "You should seat down"

"Wait-What? Who- Why am I- Why are you-? " You couldn't form a proper sentence.

"You passed out, princess" he plainly says and walks toward you where you took a step back as you felt him get closer.

"Here's an idea, how about you spare my life?" You say with a nervous smile. But he only sighs and grabs your wrist. He pulls you towards the bed before he sits you down on the edge. "Do not... move" he says before he leaves the room once again.

So many questions left unanswerd as you sat there afraid and awaited for something to happen. Jungkook was back with an ice pack in his hand. He pulled his chair so he was sat right infront of you. He gently placed the cold pack on your head. The spot you hit as you fell to the floor.

You were utterly confused by Jungkook's sudden behavior. He was acting kind? Towards you?

"What happened?" You ask.

"I told you. You passed out" he says retrieving his hands away "I guess you couldn't handle watching me beat him to death huh" he smirked before placing the ice pack on your head again.

Your eyes widen as you begin to recall the whole situation. He actually did beat a man almost to death and you wonder why he sat here as if nothing happened and why he wasn't in any trouble at school.

"I- I need to leave" you say as he thought he might actually be a psycho.

"You're not leaving, baby. Not unless I make sure you're alright and that dumb fuck is taken care of" he says.

"And since when do you care? Last time I checked, you're not any different than he is" you finally muster up the courage to say which caused him to shot up from his seat and run his fingers through his hair, rage slowly building up.

"That's different, princess, I never lay a finger on you" He explains. As if that makes it okay for him to do what he had done to you all along. And you could've told him that but you were still scared of him so you didn't want to poke the bear.

"Have you eaten anything lately? You look so weak" he squats down infront you and places hand on your for head to check on your temperature then down to your cheek as his thumb rubs circles soothingly.

From some reason your heart skips a beat and your stomach forming knots "Come here" he says not waiting for your answer as he takes your hand in his and pull you out of the room.

He told you to sit on the couch while he brings you food. Minutes pass by and he was seated infront of you with ramen in his hands. "Open up" he orderd. He was actually going to feed you.

"How can I be sure you did not posion that?" You say squinting your eyes at him. Jugkook sighs and rolls his eyes before shoving the noodles on the chopsticks into his mouth. He then begins to feed you. He'd whipe your lips with his thumb whenever you got something on it. He'd push you hair behind your ear and observe you preety face.

Who is he and what has he done with Jungkook? You think to yourself as you were seated there feeling like you're looking at a whole new person. He was taking care of you. And he is your bully, who finds pleasure in making you suffer.

"What's wrong?" He searches for your eyes as you zone out into space "Y/n!"

You suddenly feel a wave of overwhelming emotions hitting you all at once and the urge to leave. "I need to l-leave" you get out of your seat and decide to find your way out of wherever the hell you were.

"Y/n , wait!" He chases behind you.

"Where's my shoes?" You asked but didn't waste another second to wait for his reply determined to leave bare foot if you had to.

"Y/n" he calls once again, softly as his hand grab onto your wrist and pull you back to him. You slammed into his chest.

"Kiss me" he says breathlessly.

"W-What?" You stutter.

"Please?" He pleads with doe eyes as his hand wrap around your waist to pull you more closer if that was even possible.

Before you know it, Jungkook leans down to capture your lips in his. And now he was kissing you? His lips were so soft as he desperately continues to glide them against yours. The lack of oxygen reaching your brain made you feel light headed and your knees weaken. If it wasn't for his strong arms keeping you in place, you would've fallen.

You pushed his chest a little, finally separating your lips and gasping for air. "I'm so sorry Y/n. I'm sorry for everything I put you through" he whispers eyes closed against your lips. Your small hands made their way to cup his face, thumbs dragging down his redden bottom lip.

"Jungkook...." You whisper and he almost let out a whimper at how right it sounded to hear his name coming from your mouth. "I- I can't do this"

He weaknes at your words. He was hurt but tries his best to keep himself collected. "Okay" he says and moves out of your hold before walking away hand gripping into his hair.

You stood there for a second, processing what had just happened and you turned to leave but you stopped at your tracks when you hear drawers being open and slammed shut. You wanted to leave again but you were concerned so you just wanted to check on him.

Walking back, you find him in the kitchen as he gulps down a glass full of alcohol like it was water.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" You question feeling a bit concerned at his behavior.

"The fucking door is that way Y/n, leave!" He demands.

"What did you excpect? For me to forgive you so easily? Incase you haven't noticed you've made my life a living hell for half a year" You point out.

"Your absolutely right! I'm the monster here. Nobody argued so please just leave and I won't bother you again-" The man was boiling with utter rage. He did take hits for you, fought for you and took care of you even though It was for one day. But maybe that wasn't enough for your forgiveness. "-ow! fuck" he curses as the glass completley shatters to pieces in his hand from the way he had a grip on it. A piece cut his palm a little. That's how mad the man was.

"Jungkook!" You rush over to see his injured hand.

_

You were almost done cleaning up his wound. It wasn't that bad but it scared you. It also took you a few to drag his ass to the couch because he was so damn stubborn.

"Stop acting like you care Y/n" he says earning a deep chuckle from you.

"I didn't say that and you're my bully" you comment.

"Whatever" he rolls his eyes, head leaned back on the couch.

"There you go. All done. Make sure you don't hold glasses too hard next time" you say with a chuckle and placed a peck on the band aid. He cups your face and pulls you close.

"God you're so beautiful" he breaths.

"And you, my friend, are very complicated" you smile trying to maintain concerned look.

You felt the soft bed against you back as he slowly lays you down, hovering on top and not breaking the kiss. He was gentle and passionate with his kiss and was hard for him to separate from your lips for the past ten minutes.

He kept peppering your whole face with kisses whilst you giggled. You both spent the rest of the night talking while laying in bed. Just you and Jungkook and things you never knew about eachother. Every now and then he'd get close and peck your lips before he continues to talk. His heart would flutter whenever your eyes shined as you talked about things that you loved. You had never thought you'd connect deep to this level with whom you thought was your worst enemy.

"You're not a monster, Kookie" you whisper in a sleepy voice, your eyes closed and you laid there on your chest.

Jungkook beams with smile and turns to look at you, carefully studying your beautiful features and the way you look cute laying on the side of your face.

"What did just call me?" He asks but you were already going into a deep slumber. He leaned in to kiss you once more. "What are you doing to me Y/n-ah"

°

°

© angelic-vibez 2022. Do not edit, repost, translate or copy.

[unadulterated-syd]

This fic is heavily written around death, please proceed with caution.

req by: @lauratstrange

i apologize, but like i said, im not far enough to write enid in + im not adding the bag wagon of enid being a distraction from reader

so no enid, but y/n does die. :(

and i know these pics aren't season 5 Carl, i just try to match pictures so + unedited

You could feel your mind slipping, to a virus you could do nothing against. On you'd come to find everyone would succumb to— someday.

Everyday you worried, was it a mistake keeping it secret? Everyone already had enough to worry about. Plenty enough.

The group had just found Alexandria, they were weary of their newfound allies— not to mention the recent attack Rick allegedly pulled on Pete.

You hadn't been there to see, hense allegedly.

You were bit shortly after Alexandria, as a matter of fact— you'd gotten the death sentence the day Noah died.

That was another reason you'd put your inevitable death on the back burner. A bite was a bite, there was no way to change it. No one could.

And now you were sat alone, at your kitchen table. It was late, contemplation racked your brain. It wasn't safe for no one to know, but you didn't want sympathy. You wanted to live normally.

The point being— you had to go before you turned. You had to go before you endangered anyone but how. How, when, it was all important.

Your last day was soon, you felt selfish for wishing someone else could do it for you. You wanted someone you love to end it— the pain that the bite shot through you; body and mind.

You heard a knock, the knob to your front door twisting. You only had hours, at best, you felt sick— you knew you certainly looked it too.

But you didn't bother shooing whomever it was away, because truth be told yous been pleaing for the world to cut you some slack, give you your last wish. Peace in death.

You looked up, finally, seeing Carl— there he stood as usual, tonight he looked worried. Not in a way you'd ever seen before.

"Y/n..? Y/n what happened?"

Your appearance gave all away, he knew deep down what had happened, but he couldn't be bothered to accept it.

"Let me go get Michonne— she'll know what to do just uhm—"

"No." You cut him off, shaking your head, "I've only got a little bit left Carl. I don't want to spend it with Pete, they can't save me."

"Why didn't you tell someone?"

He looked betrayed, scared— the last time he'd seen this it was his mom. At least the last time it'd hurt him this deeply. He didn't have it in him to let you go too.

"Please don't yell, I don't want you to regret this later."

"What?"

He seemed taken aback, not understanding your motives. How were you so calm? A part of him wondered if you'd done this on purpose.

"Don't spend this time yelling at me." You finally met his eyes, they seemed desperate. Holding on to any part of you he could, "Please. I'm still here for now."

"How long..?" He sympathized, stepping further into the room, though slowly and cautiously— as if charting unfamiliar territory.

"An hour, two maybe."

"How?"

"Do I die? Or the bite?"

"I don't give a damn about the bite, how.. how do you want to go."

It was your turn to be taken aback, you hadn't thought much of that. You could ask him to die for you, he the same to you, but you could never ask him to kill you.

Even if it was what your heart desired.

"Just stay with me, I'll do it myself."

"Okay."

-

Your weakness lead to an executive decision— you'd die in your room. On your bed.

And Carl sat with you the whole time, he talked to you like normal. You made your peace, and him his.

When the inevitable time came along, he took your gun, kisses you head, and apologized.

Of all things, he said he was sorry.

And then it was over.

You could finally be at peace.

-

tags -> @carlgrimesslover

send in an ask to be added to tag lists

[maveras-posts]

🖤Michael Myers Headcanons🔪

Michael Myers General Headcannons:

Firstoff Michael LOVES anything sweet

Wouldn’t be surprised if there was candy corn in the pockets of his suit

On that note I have a feeling he’s a fan of black licorice

Would terrorize Trick or Treaters for fun (Gets a kick out of childrens screams)

Would SNATCH the kids candy (Lowkey feels NO REMORSE)

Most likely has wrestled a child for their candy bucket

SUPER PETTY OMG this man will try to get you back for the smallest shit (A six year old in a man’s body)

Will literally HUNT the poor soul who decided to cut him off

Silently road rages (Imagine him throwing his fist up or flipping someone off😂)

Violence is never the answer… it’s the solution.

He listens to Heavy Metal (Cannot convince me otherwise)

Would blast it in the house like an angsty teen.

Has an emotional support squishmallow he stole from Walgreens (Has Autumn the cat)

LOVES scary movies but is a highkey critic.

Living With Michael:

Shows up one day and NEVER LEAVES

Eventually you get used to Stabby Boi (No you don’t)

For the LOVE OF GOD WATCH HIM

Is curious about the modern world but can sometimes cause some…issues.

Has no clue what the fuck is going on (Cut him some slack he was locked up)

Michael is not used to modern technology (He proves its both our savior & DOOM)

Grows more curious with each device you show him

Begins to play with ALL of it

You come home one day to the whole fucking power grid for the neighborhood out (This isn’t the first & wont be the last)

Michael will randomly stare at the power outlets with fork in hand (STOP HIM)

Is fascinated by credit cards (DO. NOT. LEAVE. HIM. ALONE.WITH YOUR. CARD.)

Your card will get declined and you’ll wonder, how? (He stocked up on candy with YOUR CARD.)

You’ll FaceTime him & he will dump the bags of candy on the camera (Petty lil bitch)

You have to explain/guide him through our modern tech if you don’t he sure as hell will figure it out (Might cost you a pretty penny)

When he’s not doing his “experiments” he is actually pretty helpful (Might wanna teach him how to do house chores)

Imagine Michael Vacuuming or mowing the lawn (IM DECEASED)

On that note please keep him away from tide pods (What can I say? He LOVES candy)

Has a hidden stash of stuffed animals (Pretend that you never saw them. TRUST ME.)

Will randomly disappear BUT don’t worry he always comes back (Might show up in the middle of the night looking like death)

Will ALWAYS watch over you

Real fucking observant (Don’t try to hide anything from Micheal. He already knows.)

I feel like he would play the Xbox w/ you (might have to replace a few controllers)

Side Note: You might hear ruckus in the middle of the night not to fear, Michael is just in the fridge.

I could go on and on but we would be here ALL DAY

AN: Hiya pals! I got a random itch to write and decided to share my Michael Myers headcannons. Michael is my fav slasher and I always think it’s funny to imagine him outside of what we see in the films (Hopefully I don’t bore y’all). Personally, horror is my fav genre for books and film so I wanted to share this and hopefully everyone enjoys. I don’t normally write for slashers but if y’all enjoy this, maybe I will write for them more?

Till Next Time!

-M

[sadcypher]

heyo! this might be an out-of-the-blue request but could you perhaps give to a fellow mediocre student that is going to enroll in their first year of a physics degree (with a focus on Astrophysics and Astronomy) some tips on how to survive university? I am going to be a first-generation student so the advice that has been given to me is rather scarce... Anything from simple tips to your personal view would be appreciated!

oh exciting! Im also a first gen student so I also felt very lost and alone at the beginning.

making friends: socializing and networking specifically at the beginning of the first semester is terrifying but almost everyone feels that way, freshers are desperate to make friends so connecting is easier. Also you will find yourself in situations that are perfect set-ups to start off friendships: group projects, people looking for study groups, freshers events, clubs,... just do yourself the favor to participate here and there! Also dont stress yourself about making these friendships within the first weeks, you meet new people throughout your time at university. Also not sure what your housing situation will be but dorms are also a good place to start connecting with people!

feeling very lonely at first: totally normal but be prepared for it, find hobbies and activities you can do on your own that keep you busy, maybe join a sports club or find weekly community meetups? Maybe regularly call friends or family? I wasnt able to avoid feeling very alone even though I was prepared for it but knowing that the odds are good that it wont be like that forever helps!

physics courses are hard: they are doable but time consuming. Keeping a study routine that is low maintenance but consistent is worth more than doing several insane 16 hours study sessions during exam season. And try to find a study group to go through the materials and for solving practice problems, preferably people that you feel at ease and motivated studying with.

Balance and mental health: please take care of yourself! Dont overwork yourself but also dont slack off because thats a good set up for spiraling; you have to find a system that works for you to balance uni, free time, sleep and maybe work, and dont listen too much to what others do, everyones needs and bodies are different so what works for others might not work for you! Tho whatever you do dont cut back on sleep if you can. Additionally having a safety net can be helpful, universities often offer free (or more affordable) counseling!

Feeling out of place: Especially if one isnt a child of academics it is very easy to feel like you dont belong but thats absolute bs. You have every right to be there. You might have to work harder than others which sucks and is very unfair but you will look back and see how much progress you have made. And something I have experienced is that family is often very discouraging, my parents are repeatedly trying to talk me into getting a job because they dont see the point in going through +5 years of university to end up doing something in physics/astro. So feel free to just trust your own head and gut feeling sometimes. At the end of the day it is your future. And self check for imposter syndrome because that can make your time at uni very very hard. If you talk to people about it I can assure you that 75% will share that feeling, and these conversations often help identifying that it is literally just your silly little brain acting up a bit.

if anyone comes up with anything else feel free to add to this list! And i hope some of these were useful, anon!

[burnedbyshoto]

for want of a bento box

– It’s plain and simple, you see, someone is stealing your bento boxes and you will find your lunch thief! Or, in which Todoroki Shouto keeps taking your bento box and you declare war. 

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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, cursing, shouto is a bad chef, I believe I made reader pretty gender neutral but I whipped this out in two hours and I can no longer remember if I used any fem!pronouns but im pretty sure I didn’t

word count: 3,060

a/n: this is for the wonder coworker bnharem collab! I had intended on writing a completely different theme and storyline but was very overwhelmed by how much time it actually needed to be written compared to the amount of time I actually had. that version will be out another time! but for now, enjoy some pure flufffffff!!!!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Having a normal, functioning, well-paying job was probably the most desirable thing to you. It wasn’t to say that you were slacking or that you were homeless, broke, and never to be seen again because you were that in debt. But it was nice having a job!

When you entered the prestigious Toshinori Company, you joined not as an entry-level job employee but as a senior representative. You thought it was crazy.

It had to be crazy.

You had no prior experience, and now you were going to be in charge and the lead in certain areas?!

“And that was the entire layout of the office!” Mina chirped happily, throwing herself onto the desk chair across from yours with a big smile. “Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” you mutter, brows creased as you look around the room again. 

The office space was ample, sleek, open. Each desk has its own grand computer that you currently could not afford with your own money, comfortable chairs, and beautiful wood desks. It was elegant, far superiorly fancy, and yet, you didn’t feel out of place. Strange.

“Oh!” you say with a roll of your eyes as you reach below your desk to bring up your packed lunch. “Where was the break room again? I need to refrigerate my food!”

“Omg, of course, come this way!” Mina grins, standing up and motioning you to follow her. You smile gratefully and do. 

The entire way to the office, Mina takes the time to point at the many different people on the floor and give them names. Everyone so far had sort of acknowledged you earlier as Mina was giving you the official tour. Some were much more open and friendly, and some had sneers or blank stares that left you dumbstruck. 

Definitely a personable group.

“Hm, well, I guess Todoroki-kun isn’t here today?” Mina mutters as you enter the break room that has couches and comfortable-looking chairs. “Such a shame! You would have loved to see the office hottie!”

You snort at that, lips curled into a granulous smile as you place your plastic container with food into the fridge. “I’m sure I’ll live,” you brush off the fact that there was an absent person on your floor today.

“That’s the thing, though,” Mina points a finger at you, a lone eyebrow raised and a confident smirk on her face. “You won’t be thinking that again the moment you see him!”

You laugh, eyes crinkling as Mina joins your laughter. Eventually, she motions for the both of you to leave, and you nod in understanding. And with a weird sense of comfort and belonging, you realized that this job was going to be good. 

.

.

Eventually, you had been working at Toshinori Company for two months.

Sixty-two days to be precise, and in all that time, you had only met Todoroki Shouto once. Even then, you had only seen the man walking through the office with a blank face, fingers in his pockets as two other men were walking in front of him, bickering lightly.

Had Mina not quite literally thrown herself across the table and gripped the collar of your shirt and twisted your head to look at him, you would have never caught a glimpse at the man with red and white hair. The three of them walked into the break room and came back out with their own lunches before leaving.

And that was it.

You had learned that the three of them (Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, and Bakugou Katsuki) were within your department but worked very closely with the very high up members within the company. Many rumors pointed at one of the three taking over the company when the current CEO stepped down. They were, however, on the roster for your floor; they just never appeared except to pick up their lunches. Something they seemed to come to grab whenever you were a) way too fucking busy or b) not in the room.

You weren’t too bothered, though.

It wasn’t like you were trying to date one of them! You had only wanted to say hi.

.

.

.

Now, at ninety days, you had your first and probably most crucial evaluation. 

Toshinori Yagi, the man who founded and currently ran this company, sat before you, looking at papers within a folder with tired but kind blue eyes. He nodded, impressed (hopefully), making small comments about the work you had been able to accomplish, a smile becoming a warming grin as he looked up.

“I’m impressed by the performance you’ve managed to attend to despite the short while you’ve been here, y/l/n-shojo,” Toshinori spoke, his fingers threading together and placing them onto the table. “I knew it was an excellent decision to put you in that position, and you exceeded my entire expectation!”

You flushed at that, lips twitching as you attempted to suppress that smile of yours. 

“Thank you, Toshinori-san,” you practically wheeze as he waves off your thanks.

“No need to thank me, you’ve done all this work!” he laughs, tired eyes closing with a glorious supply of crow's feet blooming at the corner of his eyes. “Typically, at these evaluations, I ask a bunch of questions because there isn’t too much anyone can do in their first ninety days, I must admit.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, but because I am curious, is there anything that has been happening as of late that you feel needs to be addressed with me?”

You felt yourself stiffen but knew your one and only complaint was not something to bring up in this setting.

“No, nothing,” you shrug, and Toshinori beams.

“I’m glad!”

Now, the problem.

The big, fat, stinky, hooligan, wanting to throttle someone problem.

For the past sixty of your ninety days, someone has been stealing your lunch.

Yes, you heard that correctly; someone was stealing your damn lunch! Every morning you woke up and prepared a delicious bento box for yourself. Some days you went as far as cutting shapes into your fruits and veggies just to make yourself grin. You weren’t the best chef in the world, but your bento boxes were pretty enough to make up for it, in your opinion. But the thing is, every day when you went into the communal fridge, you noticed two things.

One, your bento box was no longer in the same place, and two, the bento box was not yours at all.

The food was disastrously organized. Rice and lettuce spilling out in every partition in the box. The fruit and veggies often packed in this box had multiple cuts in them, implying that whoever did this was less than ideal with a knife. The meat was often oversalted, the sushi never sitting together, and everything was just… not it.

The first time you had sighed and eaten it, grumbling about how your precious lunch was stolen. But you had quickly figured out that it was inedible, and Mina, Uraraka, and Yaoyorozu thank god, offered to share their meals. 

Seeing that you were distressed about how someone stole your egg and octopus sausages one day, Mina declared that they would watch the break room for whoever was stealing your light blue bento box. The first day you staked out, you had done it with Mina. But ten minutes into waiting around, you needed to pee. So you stood up and left in a hurry, leaving Mina alone.

But when you returned, Mina was gone, instead standing by Kirishima’s desk with a bright grin and a stance that screamed that she heard something she liked (gossip, possible in-office romance, a love confession?). Her jaw dropped as she noticed you and Kirishima had turned and waved in your direction as you raced into the break room to open the fridge, and sure enough, your bento was gone.

The next time, you staked out with Uraraka. Your arms were folded, your bladder cleared, and your lips twisted into a pout as you glared and stared down every single member who entered the room. Uraraka whispered to you her guesses about just who might be the thief, every other person rating an 8/10 likelihood of stealing your lunch.

But as the both of you sat there, your eyes narrowed at each passerby, no one came to collect your bento today.

“Deku-kun, no packed lunch today?” Uraraka asked as the green, curly-haired man you had only met once previously raced into the break room, grabbing the extra chopsticks meticulously hidden in the third bottom draw.

“Ah, Uraraka-san, y/l/n-san! Uh, no,” Midoriya greeted you both, who apparently responds to the nickname Deku, laughs off as he grabs a handful of napkins. “Todoroki-kun left all our lunches in his car by accident, and well… they spoiled… Kacchan’s pissed, so I ran off to get lunch for us today!”

Uraraka laughed, shaking her head, “Leave it to Todoroki-kun to act that way.”

Midoriya laughed, bright and clearly in agreement, “You should have seen his face when Kacchan asked for his lunch! I swear–”

“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GRAB FUCKING CHOPSTICKS, SHIT-KU! I’M FUCKING STARVING!” a voice roared from nowhere near the entrance of the break room. You did, however, jump a bit, eyes turning toward the break room entrance to see the blond man (Bakugou? Kacchan? You had no idea which was correct) near the entrance of the floor. 

“It’s only been a minute, Kacchan, relax!” Midoriya laughs, completely unaffected by the startling shout as he waves goodbye to both you and Uraraka before leaving, joining Bakugou as the both of them seem to talk comfortably… well, maybe more like bickering.

“Why are they–”

“Childhood friends, apparently,” Uraraka sighed, but the smile on her face betrays her exasperation.

No one stole your bento that day.

Yaoyorozu took up the third stake out, the two of you idly chatting about tea. You honestly had no idea what to talk about with Yaomomo; she was often just so elegant and mature despite being your age. When you learned that her family was in charge of the Yaoyorozu Corp, it had been strangely easy to accept that. 

It made sense.

So as the two of you stood at the kitchen sink, boiling water for tea Yaomomo swore would be the best matchup for your packed nigiri, the both of you missed the man who walked into the room, opened the fridge, and took your lunch.

“I… I am so sorry,” Yaomomo apologized, head bowed dangerously low as the both of you looked at the sloppily cut salmon in your not actual bento. “Please eat my food in reparation.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sigh, chewing on the somehow still warm salmon. “I deserved this loss.”

Luck was just on this man's side, it seemed. No matter what you did, you could never catch the man in action, and you were ready to give up.

But this was the last attempt you said to yourself as you returned to your office floor, the evaluation done, and the rest of your life coming to light. You could do this. No! You WOULD do this!

.

.

“Why don’t you just put your name on your bento box?” Bakugou asked, a lone eyebrow raised in what you could only assume was judgment and pity. The explosive man was standing in the doorway of the breakroom, watching as you and Mina were trying to climb up the counters of the breakroom to grab the camera you had previously planted. “Obviously, it doesn’t have your name on it.”

“Um,” you squeak, having been obviously caught by someone who intimidated you just the slightest bit. “That’s a good idea, thank you, Bakugou-san.”

“Tch, whatever, just clean up the damn counters, fucking nasty standing up on there. Some people prepare their food there.”

“We would never forget to do that!” you argue, desperate to not leave a bad impression on this man.

“I don’t know much about you, but I know raccoon eyes over there would.”

“MY NAME IS MINA!”

“Like I care.”

He left without so much as a wave but did seem to nod with his departure. You sighed as you hopped off the counter, Mina grabbing the cleaning supplies as she cursed out the long-gone man under her breath. 

But you were looking at the fridge with your missing bento box.

“I can’t believe I never put my name on it.”

“It’s okay! Not even Yaomomo thought of it, so I say we are still smart!”

.

.

.

It was the next day, you were at your desk, anxious as hell as you did your work, trying not to focus on the fact that it was lunchtime and you were actively avoiding the break room. You wondered if they wouldn’t come and collect it today. If somehow they were an asshole and wouldn’t care if your name was on it! What would happen then? What if it was someone like Bakugou who was taking your lunch? What then? You were sure you would cave in slight fear and major intimidation if he said that your lunch was his now.

“Want a cutie while we wait, cutie?” Mina asked, waving the small tangerine in her fingers as she grins.

“Please,” you say in gratitude for the food because you were starving. “Thank you.”

Eventually, you lost track of what was happening, becoming all too invested in the conversation that Mina was telling you about that involved Kaminari, Kirishima, Bakugou, Midoriya, twenty-seven Red Bulls, fifteen Monsters, and five shots of sake. It seemed that the former two were quite big instigators when they wanted to be, and the latter two were unable to back away from challenges, especially when the other was involved.

“Y/l/n?” an unfamiliar voice called from behind you, and you turned partially in your chair as you looked behind you.

Standing behind you was a tall man with red and white hair, and from this distance, you noticed immediately that his eyes were a deep grey and brilliant blue.

Todoroki Shouto.

“T-Todoroki-san!” you greet him back, voice unable to keep from trembling as your nerves shot up. What was going on? You two had never interacted before! He was always gone, never present, and whenever he was in the office, it seemed that you weren’t there.

He cleared his throat and raised up two identical bento boxes.

“It seems… I have apparently been stealing your bento boxes,” he concludes, pressing the blue bento box with your name written on it into your hands.

Your jaw drops as your fingers curve around the cool plastic, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to abstain from laughing high pitched and ugly like. 

“It was you?!”

A pink color blooms onto his cheeks as he averts his eye contact with you and nods slowly, “I am so sorry.”

“I just… how?!” you exclaim, exasperated, this man obviously being a bit dense if he had no idea he was taking your bento box!

“I prepare my bento boxes the night before, and I don’t really remember what I put into them….” Todoroki explains slowly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his tongue clicking the roof of his tongue. “I just thought that my cooking was improving and that I was somehow doing an amazing job.”

The grin that overcomes your face is one of subtle, strange fondness and soft warmth. “I can tell you that you probably haven’t improved much,” you tease, opening your bento box to see your prepared meal for the day. 

Cucumber salad, bulgogi beef, rice, and some fruit.

It was packed exactly how you remembered.

“I can’t believe I finally get to eat a meal I prepared,” you continue to tease, your eyes moving up to meet Todoroki, who was also looking at your bento previously. “Thank you for returning my meals and apologizing.”

“It was nothing,” Todoroki waved off with a single hand before opening up his own disastrously assembled bento box. It looked worse than usual today. Everything was just thrown in, it seemed. You saw egg and rice, but everything else in there was indescribable. He smiles at you before sighing at his bento. “This looks more like my stuff.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You want to share my bento box? I’m sure you probably don’t want to return to that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Todoroki gently declined, although he looked at your bento with great want. He cleared his throat, gaze moving to lock on yours, and you swore his cheeks were still pink but no longer from embarrassment. “I just wanted to come and apologize for stealing your lunch for so long and to thank you for the meals; they were all delicious. Especially the soba you had made.”

“It’s all good; it’s in the past now,” you say gently, somehow finding yourself falling for a man you’ve barely just begun to talk with. The both of you stare at each other, and your skin feels warm. You chuckle, gaze averting for a moment before returning as you tease him. “Although, if you steal from me again, I’m not so sure if I’ll be so lenient.”

“It won’t happen again, promise,” Todoroki smiles, and you feel your spine melt. “But I would love to make it up to you somehow. I can make you dinner one night or something?”

You laugh, head shaking, “No, absolutely not; I don’t trust your cooking skills just yet. But you can definitely take me out to dinner.”

“Yeah, I can definitely do that,” Todoroki agrees, and the both of you fall silent as the shy stares continue. “Does, um… is Friday at seven okay with you?”

“That works,” you say, and Todoroki smiles.

“Good, I’ll uh, see you then?”

“See you,” you agree with a sweet smile before turning around, your fingers raised in a small wave. 

You turn to see Mina, Uraraka, and Yaomomo staring at you, eyes comically wide and so very intrigued.

“Oh… my… GOD!” Mina shrieked as Todoroki walks away, and you shriek as she jumps across the table and shakes you, screaming about office romances and meet-cutes being entirely too underrated. “PROMISE ME I’LL BE INVITED TO THE WEDDING!!!!”

“MINA!”

.

.

.

.

.

It would take about three years of dating, several months of teaching Shouto how to cook, which resulted in a few bellyaches. Still, eventually yes, Mina would be invited to your wedding.

[shotorozu]

heyyy, i was wondering if you could do hcs of what it’s like to get 🍃 high 🍃 with shinsou, mina and jirou (separately) as their gf or s/o. like, if they’re really talkative or quiet. if they just chill and have high thoughts or play games or smthn. or if they get handsy w their gf or s/o 👀

you can totally ignore this if ur not comfortable with writing abt w33d tho :)

🍃🍃 with their s/o

character(s) : shinsou hitoshi, ashido mina, jirou kyouka (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used (but afab reader) quirk not mentioned

warning(s) : drug use, a lil handsy but no precise descriptions

headcanon type : mildly spicy (x reader)

note(s) : aaa i never really wrote about weed before so if i get stuff wrong, cut me some slack 😔

»»————-　♡　————-««

shinsou hitoshi

he doesn’t change a lot when he gets high

i wouldn’t say he’s overly talkative, but he’s not completely silent either. it’s almost like high shinsou is a slightly modified shinsou

but one things for sure, he does get hyper sensitive of his surroundings, and sound (and also touch, but that’s for you to find out tbh)

like,, his vision will slightly become clearer?? everything around him just suddenly looks a lot different to him

it’s really chill with him— almost to the point he’d fall asleep

but 🍃 with you is such a different story

when he’s alone, he prefers to play video games while he’s high on 🍃— the experience is just so much better to him.

but he ditches all of that once you’re in the picture— shinsou will chuckle as he watches you take a hit, dilated eyes zeroing in on you

i don’t think that he’ll even care if you’ll blow the smoke in his face 🗿 because right now, he’s focused

chair? we don’t know what that is— because he’s immediately pulling you onto his lap. he wants you close

please play with his hair, like,, rn. do it. he’ll groan because like i’ve said— his senses are HEIGHTENED.

the chances of him becoming handsy with you also increase— by a lot. sometimes, he doesn’t even know where the neediness came from

one hand will stay on your hip, and the other hand will move under your shirt, and he’ll just feel the skin there

“stay still,” he’ll say— more like command really, his hand only moving higher, and higher, and higher

shinsou will even start playing with the buttons of your pants, the string of your sweatpants— or just whatever your bottom’s made out of

but at the end of the day, it’s really up to you if you want to take things further, the outcome will always be satisfying.

ashido mina

mina’s definitely a loud person when she’s high

giggles a lot too

sensible isn’t in this girl’s vocabulary anymore, because she looks ZOOTED as hell

asks a lot of questions— like a lot of questions. if a question pops up in her head, she’ll just say it

it doesn’t make sense most of the time

also the type of person that’d do their makeup while high, and it either turns out really good— or really bad

one time, she used lipstick as foundation, and mascara as her lipstick 💀 it was funny when you found her the next day

speaking of which— she gets so touchy when you smoke 🍃 with her, and her comments will start to get bolder (but its not in a weird way)

“DAMN‼️ LOOK AT YOU GO‼️”

“mina, i was just asking for another joint” 🗿

she’ll always be your hype woman—

but wow, she’s also somewhat a tease when she’s high??

don’t ask her to pass you a joint 🗿 she’ll pass it to you with it in between her teeth— and she’ll only let you have it, if you take it by the lips too

loves using your thighs as earmuffs— and she doesn’t really care if you have thick thighs or not. just,, thighs as ear muffs!

sucks on your skin— sometimes it’s done playfully, sometimes it has,,, other intentions

also, mina’s body temperature gets SO much hotter, to the point that she’ll try to remove her shirt (that is, until you stopped her)

on a much more innocent note, one out of three times— mina will initiate slow dancing with you when you guys get high

with a hand on your waist, and another’s holding your hand— she’ll slow dance with you

but the song in the background is probably roman holiday so 💀 it’s not very romantic WEIWJSM

jirou kyouka

mood swings

jirou’s a mix of shinsou and mina.

she won’t be terribly loud, but she won’t be stoic. she seems quite normal at first glance but the blush on her cheeks is a dead giveaway

she’ll be that person that’ll be sad while listening to sad music, and happy while listening to upbeat music

jirou, while listening to pluto projector : 😔

jirou, listening to likey— which was the next song on her playlist : 💃💃‼️‼️

will probably try to rap while high, but it really never works 🗿

jirou looks so gone when she’s high, i swear— the room kind of swings every 6 minutes when she’s high

and she’ll be like :000 what the hell is happening

when she’s 🍃 with you, she’ll try to keep herself under control (which kind of fails) because someone has to have an idea of what’s happening here.

but she’s so relaxed with you, so she can’t help but let loose around you.

out of all of the characters i’ve mentioned, she’ll be the only one that slightly has a sense of what she’s doing

when it comes to being touchy anyway.

she’ll have a tendency of becoming touchy, i’m talking about hands under your shirt, and her face buried in the crook of your neck

but she’ll snap out of it when she realizes that her hands are roaming

“woah woah, im high rn.” she’ll comment, also while her hands continue to roam around your body— so she’s not making much of an effort to stop herself

her voice also becomes really raspy when she’s high so— she uses that to her advantage, and sweet talks you

“thanks for being here, Y/N.” she’ll whisper, not long before she starts muttering the first song that she thinks of <3

it’s sweet but please, when she sobers up— she’d be so embarrassed of herself 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[emmies-archives]

-Public | Hinata Shoyo- 

fem!reader x sub-timeskip!hinata shoyo 

Warnings: Nsfw, degradation, public sex, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, punishment, dacryphilia, edging, getting caught, shower sex, implied threesome, 

Summary: Your supposed to pick Hinata up from practice, except he’s made you wait over an hour, and he’s ignored your texts.

WC: 1.7k

A/N: ig im just fuckin thirsty as hell today... also this is unedited bc im lazy, once again, pls ignore typos. 

-Hinata Shoyo-

Light shone into the car with each person that drove by as they left the parking lot you had been sitting in for nearly an hour now. Practice had ended over an hour ago, yet Hinata hadn’t come out of the gym yet.

It was normal for him to run late, but this was getting out of hand. He hadn’t even sent a single text to let you know what was going on.

Reading the last one you sent asking when he was coming out, a sigh left your lips when you noticed. He’d left you on read.

A part of you wanted to leave him at the gym, for him to find his own way back to your shared apartment; but you couldn’t. As badly as he deserved it, you had other plans for him.

This wasn’t the first time Hinata had done this either, sometimes he’d get so caught up in whatever he was doing he’d forget to even check his phone, let alone look at the time. You wanted to cut him some slack, but you had warned him once before.

Glancing at the doors once more, you took a slow breath in. Waiting for him to come out for one more minute. When there was no sign of him still, you turned the car off, heading towards the gym.

Hunting down your boyfriend was the last thing that you wanted to do, you were exhausted already. Your entire day had been draining, and you only wanted to go home and relax. But there you were, pushing the doors open, only to find the gym empty.

“Hello?”

Your voice bounced off the walls, echoing back to you loudly. Looking around, there was nothing showing anyone was still there, except for Hinata’s bag sitting alone across the room.

Just as you were crossing the gym toward the bag he slipped through a door, eyes wide when he noticed you. It took you a second to process that he was in front of you now, you weren’t exactly sure what to say, but you weren’t happy, and he could tell.

“Shoyo.” You narrowed your eyes slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. The simple movement made him drop his eyes as if he were trying to hide from your intense glare.

“Hi, y/n.” His voice was quiet, much quieter than his normal self. Shifting his weight as he spoke, eyes fixed on his bag.

You didn’t say anything else for a moment, not sure if you should even talk. You couldn’t tell if you were more upset at the fact he knew what he did or not. It was one thing to simply forget to send a message, but him purposefully ignoring your texts pissed you off.

“Are you, um.. are you okay?” He asked, slowly looking you in the eyes, a small look of concern sitting on features.

“I think I should be asking you that, Sho.” Tilting your head slightly, you stared at him waiting for him to explain why he took so long.

“I’m okay. I was just about to come meet you.”

That answer made your blood hot, you could barely hold back what you wanted to say in response. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried calming yourself, even if was only a little.

“Oh, so you did know I was here.” You spoke lowly, holding him in your stare once more. He stiffened when you started walking toward him, eyes wide as your gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him to look up at you.

“Are you mad-“

“Don’t pretend to be innocent, Sho. I know you read my text I sent nearly an hour ago.” Your lips pulled back into a sneer when he dropped his eyes from yours once more. Letting go of his shirt you took a step back, reading the label on the door from where he came, it was the showers.

Stepping around him he didn’t take his eyes off the floor as you walked to the door and pulled it open.

“Remember what I said last time you did this?” You didn’t even have to say anything else as you stepped into the hallway, he followed behind you quietly. You knew he remembered, but he probably wouldn’t answer on his own.

Hinata usually got quiet when you were upset, not wanting to make anything worse. He really did try to be good; it was just sometimes he got a little distracted.

“I hope none of your teammates are here, Sho, or they’re going to hear you whining like a little bitch soon.” Your voice dripped with the anger you felt, but it was steady, scarily calm.

Once you were in the showers, you spun on your heels slowly. In an instant his back was pressed against the cold tile, a small shiver running down his back as your hot breath fanned over his lips.

He didn’t want to look at you, but for some reason he couldn’t tear his eyes from yours. Even as you swiftly pushed down his gym shorts, a venom-soaked saccharine smile pulling at your lips.

He wasn’t sure what to do, or where to put his hands. Was he allowed to touch you? He probably didn’t deserve it, but he wanted to. Especially as your fingers wrapped around his slowly hardening length.

If the look in your eyes wasn’t on the forefront of his thoughts, he would’ve felt the burn of his cheeks at your touch, and gaze.

“You’re already pretty hard, Sho. What were you thinking about that got you so worked up?” You asked sweetly, the tone of your voice harshly contrasting your actions as you gripped his jaw, pulling him closer to your face. “Answer me.”

“Um, I don’t know, you’re just so… I can’t explain it.”

You nearly laughed at his answer, it was almost pathetic how he couldn’t resist you when he disobeyed you. It was like he did it on purpose, just so he could have you like this.

“You don’t know.. well if that’s the case, why don’t you get yourself off, hm? A little slut like you doesn’t even deserve me to touch them. Not after you made me wait as long as I did.” You leaned closer to him, your hand tightening on his neck as you did. Letting your grip on his cock go, raising an eyebrow as you waited for him to listen to you.

Slowly, after shutting his eyes for a moment, he gripped himself. Stroking his cock loosely, the blush deepening on his cheeks as he did. He hated this, he knew he didn’t deserve it but he wanted it to be your hand, desperately wanted to feel your touch again. He listened though, saying anything back to you would only make it worse.

“Awe, look how cute you are. Is it embarrassing touching yourself in front of me?” He whined softly when you pushed closer to him, barely brushing against his length as he sped up his hand. Trying to mimic your expert movements, how you seemed to always make him melt as you touched him.

It was nothing like how you did it though, nothing close to the pleasure he felt when your pretty fingers were wrapped around his aching cock, pumping him just right. His eyes fluttered shut, not being able to look into yours anymore.

“No, no shutting your eyes. I want you to see me watch you pathetically touch yourself, I thought you could do it better, or am I the only one who can make you feel good like that, hm?” You pulled away from him when he opened his eyes again, watching as he changed his pace slowing down once more. Trying to find something that felt similar to what he was searching for.

Tears of frustration were starting to prick his eyes mixing with the embarrassment pooling in his chest. You weren’t surprised when they spilled over, slipping down his cheeks. The satisfied grin on your face only pushing his embarrassed crying further, needy whines slipping from his throat, but he kept stroking himself. Eyes screwing shut once more as he tried to stop the tears from coming.

You were about to say something else, maybe let him stop when you were interrupted. The loud creaking of the door opening sounded once more, followed by loud heavy footsteps.

Hinata’s eyes flew open, and he looked to you with wide eyes, you only smiled and moved closer to him, enough to shield him if needed.

“Hinata! You in here?” A loud voice called out, and you recognized it almost immediately. Not even giving him a chance to respond, Bokuto stepped around the corner. You moved away from Hinata again, giving Bokuto a clear view of him.

“Hey, Bo.” You smiled at the larger man as if there was nothing going on, his wide eyes flicked between you and Hinata several times, trying hard to not look at the redhead’s hand.

“Y/n, what are you doing in here?” Bokuto’s voice was quiet, nearly a whisper when he asked it.

“Teaching Hinata a lesson. You wouldn’t happen to know why he was here so late, would you?” You asked slowly, raising an eyebrow when Bokuto shook his head rapidly, you definitely didn’t believe him. Especially with the blush that spread across his cheeks. “Hm, well you’re free to stay if you want. I’m sure Hinata wouldn’t mind, would you baby?”

Hinata let out a shaky breath, like he had been holding it in since Bokuto arrived. Forcing himself to look at the tall man, barely meeting his eyes. Shaking his head, he didn’t quite trust his voice yet, not with the obvious tent growing in Bokuto’s shorts.

Seeing Hinata with his head tilted against the tile, tears spilling down his cheeks as he gripped his cock, it was something he thought he’d never see. Bokuto could hardly look at you now, there was an edge in the tone of your voice he’d never heard before, it scared him slightly.

Raking your eyes down Hinata’s form, you shook your head slightly, catching his attention once more.

“I didn’t tell you to stop, Shoyo. Show Bokuto just how much of a slut you are, and maybe I’ll think about touching you myself, okay?”

tags: @bummie @beelziee @bunny-xoxo​ @ultimate-astridwriting

[thetriggeredhappy]

in the dadspy au, what if jeremy was just going to be an assistant/cook/janitor at the base while his dad was being the mercenary (since spy didnt want him to follow the "career" but didnt want to be separated from him), but then jeremy turned out to be even better than the hired scout so they promote him to that position and spy is not happy with this at all

ok i was gonna put this in the queue to post but im impatient because im happy with this one. only thing i didnt have was spy being upset by this development

(warnings for canon-typical violence, discussion of mercenary-type things, paranoia, alcohol, and exactly one proper fight scene. consider this pg-13)

-

“Would you prefer the good news first, or the bad news?” Dad asked.

Jeremy looked up at him from where he’d snatched up the sunday comics from his dad’s newspaper and was doodling little hats on the characters while they waited for their food to arrive. “Uh,” he said, “good news first.”

“Alright. The good news is, do you remember that line I’ve been tailing? The one in New Mexico?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy said, then nodded a little more confidently. “Immunity, safehouse, somethin’ like that, right?”

“...Something like that,” Dad agreed carefully, and that made him raise an eyebrow. “It went well, and I think there’s the very real possibility that I’ve all but closed the deal, all they want now is an interview.”

“...Interview, singular,” Jeremy said slowly.

“That’s where the bad news begins. Unfortunately... merde, how to phrase this?” He drew a hand down his face. “They’re fully willing to hire me on, but this is a more... corporate affair than I’m used to. They have rules, stipulations. Long story short, they will not hire you as a mercenary on the basis of your age.”

Jeremy tensed. “What?” he demanded. “That’s stupid, I’m old enough to drive and buy guns and whatever the hell else.”

“But not rent a car, at least in many places in the United States.”

“But—“ he started, and remembered they were in public, and lowered his voice to a hiss, leaning in. “We’re hired killers, thieves, criminals. Do they really think we’re above having fakes? False documentation?”

“Actually, that is one of their requirements,” Dad said dryly, taking a paper from his jacket and consulting it. “I’m not happy about it either, mon lapin, but those are their rules. Already they have slightly bent them for one individual, and already I am on thin ice. But I may have a way to manage this.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked, nervous now.

“I know the woman responsible for new hires and managing the team I’ve applied for. She owes me a favor—a fairly hefty one. When I go in for the interview, one of my demands will include you being hired on, not as a mercenary, but for... for custodial purposes, something like that. Cook, janitor, security guard, secretary—whatever job there is that needs doing there, and I am sure that there will be one. Something to allow you to live there. Pay will likely be her stipulation, and the play I hope to make is that really, you’re overqualified for the position and she’s lucky to have someone so competent available, and in the worst case scenario, the pay is still good enough even for just one of us that we will not cut too deeply into the savings.”

The savings. That made Scout blink, because they only ever brought up the savings when—

“You think this could be it?” he asked quietly. “Like, it it?”

A hard exhale, and he leaned his cheek on his hand. “Potentially,” he finally said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but the job promises a variety of things. Medical attention available, extremely low levels of danger, and most of all, confidentiality. The only people who will know any name we give them would be the woman in charge of hiring us and their singular medical professional. There is no mode of communication to or from the compound outside of emergency lines to the organization and a single secure payphone located two miles away, there is no civilization within a twenty-five minute drive minimum, and this operation has been going long enough that the local authorities have long since grown used to being paid off, and likely don’t even remember what for anymore. I cash in a few valuable favors and ask this employer to turn a blind eye, we’d have somewhere remote and secure to spend our time after our deaths are faked and once the contract is over, we can start over. No ties to the past.”

“Freedom,” Jeremy marveled.

Silence for a few seconds, broken only by the quiet chatter of the rest of the diner. “I want to warn you, this work may not be glamorous. It may not even be particularly easy. I’m giving you the option of saying no,” Dad said.

“What?! Yes, hell yes, are you joking? To get us to living like normal people? Steady work? Livin’ in one place? Count me in!” he laughed.

“What if the job is something you won’t enjoy? Long hours, boring work?” Dad asked, entirely serious.

“I’m still on board.”

“What if the other people working there are rude to you? Disrespectful?”

“Well most of the people I meet through our job now try to kill us, so really it’s an upgrade.”

“What if there’s no diner nearby?” he asked, and there was a glint of humor in his eye.

“Damn, sorry, that’s the dealbreaker,” he joked right back, and that made him snort, shake his head, greet the waitress as she came back with their coffee and soda and then informed them that their food would be out shortly.

“I’ll ask,” was what Dad said once she was gone again, and that was that, and they started driving to New Mexico two nights later.

-

“—A warm welcome to our two newest recruits. This is the Spy, and this is the Guard.”

“Guard?” asked one of the men at the table, his accent thick and distinctly Russian. It made Jeremy tense slightly, but he didn’t let it show.

“Night Guard,” Jeremy answered, voice clipped.

“He’s not technically hired on as a mercenary like you all, he won’t be joining you on missions,” the short woman apparently named Miss Pauling (Jeremy was fairly sure it was a fake name) said, hands folded in front of her neatly. “He’s here to work security. Keep an eye out during the night, filter through the camera footage, handle the archiving, things like that.”

“We’re hiring on a civvie now?” asked another man, thick Scottish accent a little harder to digest than the eyepatch and the grenade he was in the process of fiddling with the internal mechanisms of.

“He’s combat ready, and will still be armed. His job is to essentially make sure you’re all safe enough to sleep through the night,” Miss Pauling said.

“I’m not some chump,” Jeremy agreed. “I know my stuff.”

“How old is he?” another man asked, this one in a hardhat with a heavy drawl, looking concerned.

“Twenty, for your information,” Jeremy said, a little sharply, eyes narrowed.

“If you have any other questions, there’ll be time later on. For now, I do need to show our two newest recruits where they’ll be staying,” Miss Pauling cut in.

There was an audible scoff from one of the men at the table, a dramatic rolling of eyes. Jeremy glared at him. He unfolded and refolded his extremely tattoo’d tree-trunk-like arms, tugging the visor of his hat between. “Sorry,” he said, accent thick and distinctly Californian. “I just don’t have the most trust for some scrawny kid in slacks and creep in a ski mask.”

“Scout, don’t start,” Miss Pauling warned.

“Just saying,” this man, apparently called Scout, muttered under his breath regardless.

“Don’t,” she said again, more firmly, and ignored the second eye roll she got for the trouble. “If you two would follow me.”

And they were shown around the base, and Jeremy in particular was shown into a room stuck behind three locked doors, where he found camera feeds and recording equipment. She gave him a basic overview and a thick packet of instructions and policies labelled ‘highly classified’ and a phone number to call if he had any further questions, and a set of hours that were apparently meant to become the new standard for him (with the quiet addendum that if he finished early that was alright, and that technically he could turn in early if two or more members of the team were already awake for the day and he was caught up on the archiving of old tapes).

Then he was left to “get used to the equipment”, which he assumed meant his dad was getting a similar rundown of his job, and it took a pretty quick glance through the packet to understand that clearly this place ran on an extremely secretive and closely monitored series of systems. In the packet, between the sections on camera maintenance and operation hours, were a few sheets detailing what were apparently the movement patterns of the various members of the team, including frequented locations and previously recorded large-scale infractions (mostly on the part of the Soldier, the Medic, the Scout, and one from the Demoman).

He wasn’t the one with the title Spy, but fuck, it seemed like he might as well have it. His entire job wasn’t even necessarily to keep the team safe overnight—he was just meant to watch all of them to make sure nobody was anywhere or doing anything out of the ordinary.

The next time he saw his dad, waiting outside the infirmary to get some sort of physical evaluation, his face was arranged carefully enough that he could tell he’d figured out something was up, too.

“Got your job assignments?” he asked quietly in French, glancing towards the door into the infirmary.

A nod, a glance. “I’m intrigued by the methods used in employee evaluation,” he deadpanned. “Especially the fact that apparently, they’re willing to assign employees for the explicit task of doing them.”

“How often?”

“Weekly.”

“Thorough,” Jeremy deadpanned, and glanced towards the hall at the distant sound of laughter, echoing from somewhere else on the base. “That’s basically mine too.”

There was a long silence, and when Jeremy looked back over, his dad was giving him an almost expectant look, waiting. All he had to offer him was a shrug, which was returned after a moment with a vague shake of the head. “I don’t believe it will be a problem,” his dad said simply. “Not for us, at the very least.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Uh, anyways, good luck with the… physical, or whatever,” he said, and received a pat on the shoulder before he walked back off down the hall, hoping to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with an entire room all to himself. He’d almost never had one before.

-

He was used to time changes and jet lag, to needing to switch his sleep schedule on the regular, but the switch to a straight up night shift was a rough one.

His nine-to-five was actually a ten-to-six, as in 10 PM through 6 AM. This meant that, assuming he managed to get his schedule in order, he’d be able to join in on the team dinners if he woke up early and could eat breakfast with them before he went to bed.

Very quickly he realized that going to dinner and breakfast with the team was going to become a staple part of his routine, because it didn’t take long before he began to feel extremely lonely all of the time. In a dark little room, everyone else asleep, scrubbing through tapes from during the day while half keeping an eye on the live feed from around the base that never showed much of anything, it was brutal. It was suffocating.

It was easy, at least. It didn’t take long before he got efficient at it and could start zoning out, and it wasn’t like he was under much pressure. His was the only room without any cameras in it. Security risk, apparently. 
And to be honest, what small amount he and Dad interacted with mercenaries and other criminal types, Jeremy didn’t really tend to like them much. A lot of them were loud and rude and had the potential to turn around and try and kill them whenever they felt like it. He didn’t expect that he’d like the team as much as he did. He especially didn’t expect to like them so much without ever really talking to them.

But watching the camera feeds from throughout the day, seeing what they were up to, they were just... nice people. Soldier out by the dumpsters practicing rocket jumps and wrangling raccoons and apparently trying to learn how to spin a rifle, Pyro’s regular minor explosions in the kitchen while cooking and the surprised and frantic way they cleaned it up every time, the Demoman’s tendency to whistle wherever he went, watching through the feed as they all played cards and argued and jostled each other. They all seemed really nice. Really cool. Really dorky, too, but mostly just really nice and really cool.

And there were a few of them he was less sure about—he couldn’t get eyes on the Medic most of the time, what with the one camera in the Medbay being tilted down at an angle that made it hard to see much of anything but the occasional bird (probably by those same birds). The Heavy tended to just sit and read, and was pretty much silent most of the time otherwise. The Scout tended to leave the base pretty often. And the Sniper didn’t even live on base, he had a van outside that he could only occasionally see movement in when he squinted at the far edge of the camera leading outside. But even then, Heavy and Sniper mostly just seemed quiet, and Medic just seemed busy, and the Scout just seemed like a little bit of a dickhead.

But then one day when Jeremy was at breakfast the Heavy caught him leaning to try to get a look at the cover of the book he was reading, and he blurted that he was just wondering what book was so great that he’d stay up until like four in the morning reading, and then the entire team was gawking at him and asking questions and insisting that it was insane that there was someone actually watching all those cameras, and he shrugged and said there was always supposed to be someone watching the tapes back it was just usually some office worker type a hundred miles away. And they seemed almost... upset with him. And maybe that was fair, it wasn’t like he ever talked to any of them much, mostly he just spent breakfast and dinner half-asleep and listening to their chatter. And Demoman admitted that he’d honestly assumed that Jeremy slept his entire shift, he just always looked so tired at breakfast. There was almost this discomfort. This distrust.

And so, now that the jig was up, he made it a point to say some things to certain members of the team. To tell the Medic that his camera was tilted down so that he couldn’t see most of the room, and to very pointedly say that it was weird how that happened and that he didn’t know why they set it up like that in the first place, but it was really none of his business. Made it a point to warn the Engineer in the morning that the previous night, Soldier had been doing something in the fridge for a while, and to maybe check the labels before he made breakfast. Made it a point to tell the Demoman that the camera in his workshop was right in plain sight, and that if he moved one of his blackboards an inch or two to the left, it would obscure the room a pretty hefty amount. Made it a point to tell the Sniper that the camera on the rooftop seemed to be glitching out, and it’d just sort of lost the tapes of the previous two nights, and that it was really unfortunate since for all he knew there might have been someone ignoring the signs about there being no personnel allowed up there.

In return, he found that Pyro would sometimes make little sparkly notes with smiley faces on them and stick them to the door to the security room. That Sniper started tipping his hat at the camera above the door into the base from the garage. That on occasional drinking nights, the team would suddenly turn and start waving at the camera, laughing the whole way. On one night in particular he could hear through the low-quality and tinny speakers that they were trying to cajole him into leaving the security room for a while to join them for cards, and god, but he wanted to.

And he noticed more things. Soldier walking with a slight limp some days when rocket jumps had rough landings. Being able to count the doves in the infirmary and even tell them apart to some extent through blurry close-ups. The Engineer making it a point to sweep really regularly regardless of what project he was working on.

And then he noticed a weird thing.

It took him a long time to get used to the patterns of hallways, the cameras not really lined up linearly after a while, too many branching paths. He learned to follow progress, to flick from one camera to the next as someone walked around corners. And for a while he thought maybe he wasn’t very good at it.

Until he realized two things. First of all, that in a hallway where he knew there were five doors, he could only see four—apparently the door to Pyro’s room was just barely out of sight of the camera. He only figured it out because one day it swung open wide enough to almost bang against the wall.

And then, when he realized there was somehow that massive blindspot, that there was a corner with a blindspot too. One where that Scout kept disappearing.

He watched a few more times to make sure, and yep. He’d see the Engineer walking around the corner, flick to the next screen, and there he was, continuing down the hallway. And then later that same day, the Scout, walking, and flick to the next camera, and he wasn’t there.

One of the worse parts of the job was that he never got to see Dad anymore, never got to just sort of hang out the way they did all the time when he was growing up, and he knew he would miss it but he didn’t know how much. And he found it was even worse when he had something important to say, doubly so when he had something important to say but no idea if it was actually important.

He tried to bring it up casually, in the like ten minutes of time he ever got alone to talk to Dad. Dad was fighting the kettle trying to make some tea and he was trying to stay awake long enough to figure out how he was going to say this.

“Uh,” he said, and Dad looked at him. “So, uh, what’s the read you’re getting on that Scout guy?”

“Lazy,” Dad shrugged, looked back at the kettle. “Arrogant. He seems to care very little about doing his job correctly and has horrible communication on the field.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, fought a yawn down. “Uh. So like, kind of a dickhead.”

“Indeed,” Dad said, nodding vaguely.

“So uhhh... not the best.”

“Where are you going with this?” Dad asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I, I dunno, the guy just likes hanging out in this one blindspot in the cameras, and it’s kinda freaking me out,” Jeremy said, scratching at the back of his neck.

Dad frowned. “Strange. I wasn’t aware that there were any blindspots in the cameras.”

“There’s only a few, and only for pretty small spaces I think? But apparently he just likes hanging out in one of them.” Jeremy scuffed his shoe on the ground, glancing over as voices started echoing down the hall towards them. “Just thought it was weird.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dad muttered, voice quiet, and then raised it again slightly. “I refuse to keep up with sports.”

“C’mon,” Jeremy said, knowing this game well, changing subjects into something more normal as people entered earshot. “I’m not even asking you to keep up with sports, I’m just saying, I’d kill to go to a baseball game right about now.”

“The American Pasttime!” Soldier called from the room over.

“Exactly,” Jeremy agreed, nodding at Soldier as he also entered the kitchen, a half-asleep Demoman in tow.

“Any ghosties or ghoulies on the cameras last night, lad?” Demo had enough energy to ask, blinking blearily at the contents of the fridge.

“Oh, a billion,” Jeremy said.

“Guard!” Soldier barked, the most awake person in the room. “Should these ghost-ghouls appear again, don’t be afraid to point me in their direction! I have significant experience with them already and do not fear the likes of them!”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shrugged.

“You’re a champion, Guard,” Demo said with what was either a really disoriented blink or a wink, slugging him on the shoulder and wandering back out into the common room with the entire carton of milk in his other hand. Jeremy gave him a mock-salute that Soldier copied with absolute conviction. He and Dad shared a glance after the two of them left, and Jeremy was the first one to break, snickering under his breath.

“I’ll look into it,” Dad said, and also left the kitchen, and Jeremy nodded and started trying to remember what else he’d been planning on doing before bed.

-

“So,” Dad said a few days later, materializing next to Jeremy when he was in the middle of his jog and making him almost jump out of his skin, skidding to a stop.

“You’re enjoying that new watch way too much,” Jeremy panted, out of breath and still very much startled.

“Maybe,” Dad said, and he was smiling. “But as I was saying.”

“All you said was ‘so’,” Jeremy pointed out, giving him a look.

“There’s a juvenile joke here about how I’m your father and so of course I say ‘so’, but if you wouldn’t mind it, I did have something important to say, mon lapin,” Dad replied, and Jeremy rolled his eyes hard at the horrible joke and cheesy name, fighting back a smile of his own.

��Go for it,” he said, and took the opportunity to bend and tighten his shoelaces.

“So. Regarding that Scout and his habits. You mentioned he spends time in blind spots of the cameras, oui?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. Keeps, uh, I guess he keeps getting infractions for going off base too much, too. I’ve logged him leaving like three times this week already,” Jeremy nodded.

“Indeed. Well, considering how new we are to the team, I did not want to jump to conclusions, and so contacted Miss Pauling and asked on your behalf for any older records, and I found out something very... intriguing.”

Jeremy looked up at him, blinking. ‘Intriguing’, historically, had always been a very, very bad thing.

“Apparently, it has been two years since they last had a Guard situated on base. The previous one was a much older gentleman, retired from being a full member of the team due to health complications but not entirely ready to part with the company. The previous guard was somewhat strict, and the Scout—the same as we have now—very much disliked the man. He continued acquiring near-constant infractions under the man’s watch for leaving when he was not meant to, so much so that the previous Guard proposed enstating trackers on the team when they went off-base. And before this policy could take hold, the previous Guard left the base one day and did not return, and finally was found dead a state over, one month later.”

Jeremy blinked once, twice. “Holy shit,” he said, and took note of the wary look on his face. “Okay. So we’re thinkin’ the same thing, right?”

“I would assume so. And…” Dad hesitated, moved to fidget with his cufflinks. “And I would not be particularly concerned about this, as I’m confident that you wouldn’t have gotten his attention from what you’ve been up to lately, and therefore wouldn’t be in danger yet should history attempt to repeat itself, but… he’s already taken a disliking to you.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“I believe it’s something as simple as some sort of shallow jealousy. Another American on the team, also relatively young, filling the position of someone he disliked previously. He regularly complains about the fact that you don’t need to go do the same job as the rest of us.” Dad shrugged, glanced over at him. “That, combined with the fact that you have somewhat conflicting duties, well, he tends to rather tetchy. He claims that considering he’s meant to be the first line of defense, they shouldn’t also need a guard at night.”

Jeremy had a number of opinions about that, but he stuck to the most relevant ones. “I really don’t like this guy,” he said. “Might be, uh. Worth keeping an eye on.”

“Agreed.” Dad glanced back over his shoulder towards the base, then at his watch. “Enjoy the rest of your run. Don’t forget to eat.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, hit the bricks already, old man,” Jeremy scoffed, waving him off, and Dad rolled his eyes, disappearing again in a cloud of smoke. “You’re gonna be using that thing all the damn time now, aren’t you?”

“Oui,” came a voice from nowhere, and Jeremy huffed a laugh, meandering his way back into the rest of his jog.

-

Jeremy hummed along to the radio, flicking between cameras on autopilot and wondering when exactly to take his lunch break.

He didn’t face the clock or anything, so he wasn’t sure, but he thought he had a pretty solid rhythm at that point. Click, click, click, between the camera to the road, the camera to the main entrance, and the camera in the hall towards the middle of the building, for about one second each. At just about any time after 11 or 11:30, those were the only three in real time that he needed to keep an eye on, mostly for people coming back late from bar hopping or if Miss Pauling was rolling in on a delivery. All the other cameras he could see out of the corner of his eye, and any movement he’d pick up on pretty quick, even if it was usually just the doves fluttering on the camera to the Medbay. After he cycled through those (and there was almost never anything there) he’d cycle back through to the tape he had in, put it on high speed, and watch it for about two or three minutes, get through a chunk of that time. Mostly he’d just be making sure nobody had been in the base while the team was away ni o(which indeed there never was), so there wasn’t much of a reason to take it off high speed, and the second part of the night would be watching the tapes for the time the team was back on base.

Movement on a camera made him click the pause, and he glanced off to the side. One of the doves had shuffled to face the other direction. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the bigger monitor again and pressing play.

The second half of the night was a little more interesting. He just had to look at the tapes for the time the team was there, check for discrepancies that might point to Dad messing with the disguise technology off-the-clock or the enemy Spy having infiltrated. For the most part things were straightforward, but he at least got to see his teammates up to funny things sometimes. Pyro’s antics were usually entertaining. Soldier he only caught some of, on the basis of him often walking off out of range of the cameras when he went on his excursions. Demo was funny sometimes. Honestly, just seeing the Sniper anywhere but as a fuzzy distant shape was interesting.

Movement on a camera. Same dove. He ignored it. Click, click, click, all three cameras clear, back to the fast-forward of the same empty hallway as before.

He really needed to figure something out, for the Scout. Maybe he and Dad were just being paranoid. It would be insane for him to try to outright kill anyone who inconvenienced him, not to mention reckless, and stupid to boot. Acting like that in their line of work would make him a lot of enemies extremely quickly. It would make more sense for the old Guard disappearing to be unrelated, to be honest.

Yeah. Hell, he barely knew the guy, and here he was assuming he’d straight up whacked a guy for getting a little too on his case about something. Maybe they were wrong.

Movement on a camera. He glanced over and froze outright.

It took him five seconds to come to his senses enough to pause the playback on his screen.

Figures. Shapes. Not at the front entrance, in the hallway, there next to the back way, by the garage. At least three, moving carefully, hard to make out in the darkness.

Okay. Okay, don’t panic, focus.

Jeremy ran through a few things in his head. He’d already done a headcount, the only people he wasn’t sure about were the Sniper and the Medic, but he hadn’t seen the Medic in any of the hallways out of the infirmary. Three figures were two too many to be any of the team, and besides that, they didn’t look like the Medic. Too short to be the Sniper, moving differently. Different clothes.

Three people. He hopped up, rushed over to the wall, yanked open the panel he had there. Three buttons, which he needed to hit in order. The first would send an alert to Miss Pauling, the second to whoever was assigned to be on alert that night, the third would set off the alarm.

He hit the first, hit the second, and hesitated on the third.

Okay. Technically if he didn’t hit that third button, he’d be breaking protocol, which was, according to the manual, ‘grounds for termination’. He was pretty sure that meant a long swim with some concrete shoes. And it was apparently recorded every time he hit these buttons, so they could deduct from his pay on false alerts. So they’d know if he didn’t hit this third button. He needed to think fast.

This was a different button than the alert button. The alert was more subtle, set for just one person. The alarm was throughout the entire base, over every loudspeaker. Louder than a fire alarm. If he hit this one, these intruders would hear that there was an alarm going off. Anyone smart would book it, high tail it the hell out of there. But he still didn’t know where they came from.

There hadn’t been movement on any of the screens, and he looked at the camera feed facing the road already, a few times even. He should’ve seen them. And if they found their way in once, they could do it again.

If he didn’t hit the button, on the other hand, whoever was on alert would wake up and wonder why they’d gotten an alert but the alarm wasn’t going off. If they were clever, which they probably were if they’d lasted this long, they’d come to the security room to see what was up and they could work from there.

He closed the panel again and moved to wait.

A minute later, still no movement from the hallway where most of the rooms were. That was fine, they’d just woken up, and probably needed to get dressed and grab their guns.

Another minute later, no movement, which was fair, they just needed a second to get their bearings. The intruders, meanwhile, were just lurking, slowly making their way down the hall.

Another minute later, no movement, and he opened the panel to press the button again before he continued waiting. Maybe they didn’t hear him the first time.

Another minute later and he took to standing next to the panel, mashing the button rapidly, eyes on the screen where the intruders were passing the kitchen, starting to get pretty far into the building.

Another minute later and he stomped his way into his sneakers, grabbing his flashlight and gun and guard cap from where they were hung on the wall. “Fine, I’ll fucking do it myself,” he grumbled, and carefully shouldered open the door, taking one last glance at the camera before he shut the door behind himself.

He kept his footsteps quiet, squinting into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to finish adjusting as he crept towards where he’d last seen the figures. It was near-silent in the base at night except for the distant, quiet hum of generators and occasional shift of plumbing. It was getting more and more familiar, and he found himself able to tune it out somewhat, instead listening intently for footsteps besides his own, making sure to click the safety off his gun while he was still alone and not when he was close to whoever had decided to break in.

Okay. Dad did this all the time. He could handle this.

He slowed as he approached the corner near the kitchen, peering around as carefully as he could, tugging down the brim of his cap to try and hide any potential shine from his eyes. He caught sight of a vague shape standing near the doorway, hesitating before it crept inside, into the common area.

Not ideal, on the basis of that being their goddamn kitchen, but at least there would be cover.

By the time he managed to sneak up to the doorway, he could make out the sound of vague whispering. It was far enough that it gave him the boldness to peer into the room, and just slightly lit by the glow of the clock on the oven he could see two shapes there in the kitchen, the third lingering nearer to him, there by the table.

Jeremy was only just starting to make a plan, relieved to have the jump on them, when there was the distant sound of a generator humming to life, and all the figures stopped, paused for a moment.

“Fucking spooky here,” one whispered, barely audible.

“Calm down,” another whispered. “What, scared of ghosts?”

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, shifted onto the balls of his feet and started creeping a little further into the room. If he could just get all three of them to one side, so he wouldn’t need to pivot so much…

“You don’t know, maybe there’s ghosts here,” the first protested, and swore quietly at what sounded like their winging their elbow against the corner of the tale, and Jeremy tried to stick near the wall, managed to creep half-behind one of the chairs, trying to keep his silhouette indistinct. “These guys kill people.”

“So do we,” the third mumbled, moving out of sight in the kitchen, and Jeremy bit down on a swear, starting to inch behind the couch. “Don’t be a coward. And stop making so much noise.”

“You can’t shoot a ghost,” the first pointed out, moving a bit closer to the kitchen, giving the table a wide berth now. “Or punch it.”

“I can try,” the second said, and stopped at the sound of a rustle.

Jeremy held his breath, weight half-balanced against where he’d tried to step, newspaper trapped beneath his foot.

“That one wasn’t me,” the first whispered. There was another, more significant rustle throughout the room, and Jeremy could see a glint as the intruders drew their weapons.

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, and just barely managed not to swear out loud.

The first one was the closest by, lingering beside the arm of the couch Jeremy was crouched in the shadow of. “Do they have a cat here?” they asked, voice quiet.

The second was approaching into the main room more carefully. From the sound of the footsteps, trying to keep a shoulder closer to the wall, clearly paying more attention to the door. “Are you stupid or something?” was the reply, voice also quiet.

The third didn’t speak, but huffed out a laugh, which was enough to tell Jeremy that he was out of the kitchen.

Jeremy inhaled shakily, exhaled shakily, shifted his grip on his handgun and flashlight, and took a split second to think. Inhaled one more time.

He leapt to his feet, swinging his flashlight like a billy club and clobbering the first figure across the side of the head, sending them tumbling to the ground. From the sound of the impact, a dislocated jaw at the very least. One down.

A shout from the other side of the room, arms moving to try to aim, clearly struggling to see him, but that third figure was in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the oven’s clock, and that was enough to figure out where the head and chest were. He aimed, fired, got what he was pretty sure was the neck considering the brief spray of blood that splattered against the oven, darkening the room completely.

A swear from the second figure, and Jeremy wanted to swear too, because he’d hoped that second figure would be stupid and try and charge him, but now he was ten steps away and didn’t have time to fiddle with and cock the gun again, other hand full with a flashlight and no way to—

Oh, duh.

“Stay where you are,” the second figure ordered, but Jeremy’s eyes were a little better adjusted and besides that, he wasn’t the one talking. He lifted his flashlight and clicked it on.

The second figure cried out, recoiling at the sudden blindingly bright light in what had been near-darkness, and Jeremy had time to finagle his thumb up to cock his gun again, now able to aim with absolute accuracy, this shot connecting with the figure’s head.

He exhaled.

It took Jeremy two minutes to remember to fire a bullet into the chest of the unconscious guy, and another minute for the other mercenaries to start showing up, half-dressed and armed. Dad, presumably to prove a point, showed up pretty close to the middle of the pack almost fully dressed. Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how long it took before Miss Pauling showed up, but he wasn’t even halfway through their questions by that time.

“Guard, headcount?” she asked before she even bothered saying hello, still wearing her motorcycle helmet and looking more than a little bit miffed.

“Uh,” he said, eyes drawn away from where Medic was assessing the bodies on the kitchen table, “seven present and accounted for. Sniper’s probably out at his van, don’t know about the Scout.”

“Alright. Pyro,” she said, and Pyro stood at attention, bunny slippers squeaking at the movement. “go wake up Sniper and get him in here.”

Pyro nodded, handing their weird unicorn plushie thing to Jeremy as they passed by, giving him a solemn nod before hurrying away.

“Okay. Guard, hit me with a rundown, then,” she said, and shot a glance around the room. “No peanut gallery needed. And Medic, please don’t take them apart too much. I gotta get rid of those later.”

“Uh. Spotted these guys on the cameras, hit the first and second alerts,” Jeremy said.

“And not the third?” she asked pointedly.

“They were, like, right next to the door, and—here’s the thing, Miss P, is I dunno how the hell they got in here,” he said, and there was a general balk from the room. “No, seriously. They didn’t come in on the main road, they were in one of the back hallways by the garage. There’s gotta be a hole in the cameras or something, because I seriously don’t know where they came from. And if they booked it, they’d take whatever vehicle they used to get here, too, and we might not figure it out. Thought I’d just wait for whoever the hell was supposed to be on alert so we could… I dunno, at least see which way they went.”

“Guard,” she admonished, and he shrank a little bit. “That was incredibly reckless. What if nobody had shown up to help you?”

“Uh,” he said, blinked, “but… nobody did show up.”

A pause. She blinked. “What? You’re the one who did that?” she asked, entirely shocked, pointing towards the three bodies on the table.

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t that my job?” he asked carefully, shifting the stuffed animal under his arm.

“No, you’re—you’re just supposed to be the Guard, you’re supposed to watch cameras, not—“ She paused, taking a second to push up her glasses and rub at the bridge of her nose, inhaling, exhaling. “Okay. Points for… going above and beyond, here, but Guard, don’t do that again.”

“Sure thing, Miss P,” he mumbled, tugging on the brim of his guard cap, and sighed to himself as Miss Pauling moved away to try and stop Medic from attempting to covertly steal a few organs from the corpses. Dad clapped him on the shoulder supportively, and that did make him feel a little better. He wasn’t expecting a clap to the other shoulder, and looked up, surprised to see Heavy there, looking just slightly less grim than usual.

“Little Guard man is credit to team,” he said simply, solemnly.

Jeremy straightened up slightly. “Oh. Hey, thanks,” he said. Heavy nodded at him.

“It’s true,” Demo called, and he looked over, got another approving nod. “Really saved the lot of us, lad.”

“I, I mean, hey, it’s… what I’m here for. Or, uh. I thought that was it, anyways,” he shrugged, glancing away. “I mean, yeah, I’m pretty cool, though.”

Dad bumped his arm for the last part, and he snickered. “My question,” Dad continued, doing his best to ignore him, “is primarily regarding who, precisely, was supposed to be present to help Guard with this. Who is meant to be on alert?”

“It’s meant to be Scout, ain’t it?” the Engineer asked from nearby, frowning. A general murmur of agreement. “Could he have slept through it?”

“Heavy doubts this,” Heavy grumbled, looking troubled.

“Why’re we awake?” asked Sniper from the doorway, and various teammates called out a greeting. Sniper seemed half-gone, and completely grumpy, but not as grumpy as Pyro, and not nearly as gone as the man leaning heavily against Pyro’s shoulder.

“Hey,” the Scout managed, grinning, speech garbled, visibly sloppy and unbalanced. “What’s up, guys?”

Groans from parts of the room. “Drinkin’ again, Scout?” the Engineer drawled, visibly irritated.

“That’s my trademark, lad, go on,” Demo laughed, but the enthusiasm wasn’t entirely there.

“Scout,” Miss Pauling said, voice firm in a way that made Jeremy almost flinch in sympathy. “Are you aware that we’ve had a situation here while you’ve been sleeping?”

“Weren’t sleeping,” Sniper murmured, and eyes turned to him. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Came stumbling in ‘round when I was heading in. He was out for the night. Bar, looks like.”

“What?” Jeremy demanded. “Why the fuck didn’t I see him leave on the cameras?”

“Alright,” Miss Pauling said, and Jeremy looked at her. Her expression was hard to read. “It’s possible he went through the back tunnel.”

“Back tunnel?” Jeremy asked, and glanced around. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard of it.

“For emergencies only. Scout’s the only one who I’ve given a key card to. I have one too. It’s supposed to be used for transporting especially sensitive information, most of the team isn’t supposed to even know it exists. If there’s a gap in the cameras around the back of the building, he might have been using it to… sneak out to go to town, even though he knows he’s already in hot water for leaving the base so much,” Miss Pauling said, glaring at Scout, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

“Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” he protested, scoffing.

“That tunnel is for emergencies only,” Miss Pauling stressed. “I trusted you with the privilege of knowing about it account of having worked here for so long, and you’re using that privilege and key card to mess around?”

“He was coming back from around the front of the building, at least,” Sniper chimed in, and Pyro nodded. “Not that I’d understand the point of sneaking out if he’s going to just walk back in the front door.”

“Key card?” Medic repeated from near the table, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s a magnetized card, that can be read by a card reader, used like a key,” Miss Pauling explained, deflating a little bit.

His eyebrows furrowed further. “Would it happen to look anything like this?” he asked, picking up a lanyard from the table and holding it up, showing the room the card clipped onto the end of it.

Two beats of silence. “Spy, would you mind?” Miss Pauling asked politely, nodding towards the Scout, who had gone pale.

“Not at all,” Dad said just as politely, and walked over towards the Scout and Pyro, then circled around behind them, and sank a blade into the Scout’s spine. He promptly crumbled to the floor, dead.

“Well. At least that’s that mystery solved,” Miss Pauling sighed, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose again. “Now I’ve gotta block off time tomorrow to get rid of three bodies, and then hopefully that’s the last we’re gonna hear of this or else the Administrator is gonna kill me.”

“What about the Scout?” Heavy rumbled.

“…Scratch that. Four bodies,” she mumbled, face dropping into her hands. “And then I need to find his replacement. Ugh.”

“Can’t imagine you’d need to go far,” Demo said, and Jeremy looked up, and Demo was very obviously tilting a thumb in his direction.

“He’s proven himself to be better at this job,” Dad agreed, shrugging. “And I would say on a bad day he’s still a better runner than the previous Scout on a good one.”

“He can clearly handle a firearm well,” the Engineer noted, looking over one of the bodies.

“And a blunt object,” Medic chimed, just a bit too pleased. “This jaw is almost completely shattered!”

“Okay, okay, fine, sure,” Miss Pauling waved off, one hand still pressed to her face, clearly overwhelmed and tired. “We’ll get his paperwork in tomorrow. Congratulations, you’re the new Scout, any questions? Can the questions wait until morning? Great, thank you. Good night, everyone. Medic, have the bodies in bags for me at least, okay?”

A distracted thumbs up from Medic, and Miss Pauling was groaning, wandering back out of the room, and most of the team followed, yawning amongst themselves. Sniper half-attempted to ask again why the hell any of them were awake, but gave up halfway through. Pyro, for one, made sure to at least retrieve the plushie from Scout’s arms before wandering off, giving him an appreciative pat on the shoulder.

“So,” Dad said, and when he looked over, he was smiling. “A promotion, mon lapin. Congratulations, new Scout.”

“Do I gotta wear that stupid outfit he always wears?” Jeremy asked, entirely serious. His reply was a laugh and a pat on the shoulder before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Pops, I’m serious. Do I? Dad!?”

-

“—So that’s why I figured, y’know, might as well tell you guys,” Jeremy finished rambling, hands in his pockets, continuing down the hallway. “Because… I dunno. I could tell Miss P, but it’s nice having secret stuff, y’know?”

“You think this is how they actually got in?” Demo asked, looking dubious. “Little blind spot in the cameras?”

“Only a couple feet wide, you said?” Sniper grumbled.

“Sounds possible,” Heavy said hesitantly.

“I dunno. Maybe. But if I tell Miss P about it, they’re gonna fix it,” Jeremy shrugged, turning the corner and stopping. “There. I knew it.”

They stopped with him, following his line of sight. “You’re takin’ the piss, mate,” Sniper deadpanned. “You want to tell me he’d been climbing out a window like a teenager?”

Jeremy shrugged, moving to open the window in question. It swung open easily, just large enough to push through with only a little bit of a problem, barely needing to turn his shoulders. “He’s not much bigger than me, and what the hell else would he be doing here?” he pointed out.

“Heavy cannot fit through that window,” Heavy deadpanned.

“Yeah. Sorry, big guy,” Jeremy apologized, leaning back inside and closing it again. “But hey, mystery solved, right?”

“Well, if I ever need windows to climb out of, now I know just the lad for the job,” Demo said, nudging him. “Thanks, Guard. Or, er, Scout. Och, now that’s going to take getting used to, aye? Might just stick to calling you ‘laddie’, laddie.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he laughed, nudging him right back. And as much as they ribbed him for it, he did see a kind of appreciation there. Just like he’d figured, they seemed to take note of him taking their side and not just Miss Pauling’s.

Now he just needed to switch back over to the day shift.

[writing-in-april]

Green with Envy

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer gets green with envy over something reader can’t control angering reader- hot and heavy makeup sex ensues.

A/N: hey guys 🥺 this is my sixth fic for my 1250 follower celebration and this is a day late- thank you to everyone who was super nice and considerate about me pushing this off till today- I was having a super hard time emotionally last night and I needed some time to myself. Again thanks so so much- this is based off of a combination of this request and this request for jealous Spencer. Also part two to Dr. Jekyll will be out tonight or tomorrow depending on if I can finish it- still a little bit behind schedule from me pushing this off last night. Thanks for reading 🥺

Warnings: 18+, Someone’s harassing reader at work, Spencer is a jerk at first I promise he apologizes, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (F receiving)

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.1k

“Could you go and check case evidence? And bring the detective with you.” Hotch had approached me, giving me orders for the next step to take in the team’s investigation. I accepted them with no discernible dissent in my voice towards Hotch, even though I would have rather stayed with Spencer working on the geographical profile. Especially since the detective had not taken my subtle hints of turning him down when he flirted with me. Unfortunately like many of these instances it was just easier to keep my mouth shut rather than cause problems with the police department we were liaising with. Though I still did know if I’d I had told Hotch he would’ve understood and changed it with a drop of a hat. it was still just easier to not say anything and power through the case, however sad and disappointing it was.

The detective had been hot on my heels ever since we had touched down here. At first it had been endearing and I just carefully let him down, saying a simple no to coffee.

I was sure he got the impression that if he ‘convinced me’ more he’d get me to say yes. I hadn’t told him until later that I had a boyfriend because it hadn’t been his business. I had only told him with a snippy tone in frustration when he would not let up. Unfortunately for me again he seemed to take it as a sign of ‘playing hard to get’ and did not stop his pursuits. I should probably tell Hotch about it before I punch him in the nose.

I was frustrated and annoyed, plus basically every other negative feeling in the book. I just wanted to be alone, or with Spencer.

When I finally got time to slip out of the room for a breather I scampered my way over to where my boyfriend was as he always gave me some sort of solace.

Unfortunately, it seems like the universe was against me this week.

Spencer’s eyes usually held not one ounce of anger, especially not towards me. When he flashed me a glare I got a little angry myself. What had I done to face the wrath of the genius? His demeanor towards me wasn’t doing anything to squash my bad feelings as it normally did, right now it was just fueling the flames.

I decided to just ask him upfront after a third glare was flashed in my direction instead of dancing around the issue any more, we did have a job to do, “Hey- Spencer, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His tone was clipped and sharp, sharp enough that it felt like it could cut me.I wouldn’t have been that surprised if it did. It was obvious that ‘nothing’ was not true, there was obviously something going on.

I decided to ask again just to be sure, though there was definitely a possibility I was going to be snapped at again, “Are you sure?”

The harsh glare I was given was more piercing than the previous ones, cutting me deep.

“Yes, I’m sure!” Was whispered shouted at me along with the glare. It took every fiber of my being not to snap his head off even harsher than what he had done to me. Blinking back tears I got up and stormed off, completely done with the day- with this case. I just wanted to put this case behind me, putting it in the files to never be thought about by me again.

—

When we got to the hotel, after we were finished for the day, there was an eerie silence that fell over us. The silence only held for a moment as we stared at each other. I wasn’t going to speak before he was and if it wasn’t an apology I didn’t know if I had the energy left in me to say anything back.

I had ended up telling Hotch what had been going on with the detective, it had become too much for it to be reasonable to brush off (though in a perfect world brushing off someone like that wouldn’t be a reality but that’s just a daydream of mine I guess)

I stood at the other side of the room for a minute waiting to see if he’d say anything or if we’d be dancing around each other like this for the rest of the night.

He ran his hands through his hair a few times, looking like he was trying to collect his thoughts and sat down on one of the beds in the room. I wondered also if I’d be slipping into the second untouched bed by the window tonight.

“I-I’m so sorry.” My only response at first was a slight hum from the back of my throat while I processed my own thoughts. He seemed sincere, I wanted to believe he was sincere that is.

“Sorry for what?” On the ride back to the hotel, once my irritation towards his attitude had somewhat satiated in the cool silence of the car, I had figured out what he had been bothered by. Spencer wasn’t all that hard to read once I got to know him. However, I wasn’t going to provide the reason for it, I still wanted to hear the reasoning from his own mouth.

“I was envious- jealous of you and the detective today.”

“You were envious?” Being green with envy wasn’t something that Spencer had ever expressed in our relationship before. Being envious- or jealous as most people would call it could be something to be played with in a relationship. It’s an emotion to be delicately handled otherwise the relationship could be filled with possessiveness and aggression.

Spencer was for sure out of line earlier today, he was certainly right when he said I’m sorry.

But, since he had said sorry and that I could tell he was sincere, maybe there was still a chance to play with the delicate emotion in a way that would not crack the foundation. Plus the added fact that I didn’t need to ask for an apology was comforting. There was no need for a fight when the person at fault admitted it. And, in time I’m sure when our relationship has had more time to build a larger foundation, those feelings of envy would not be so easily provoked— unless of course if it was time to play with those delicate emotions.

“Y-yeah, I was getting mad that I wasn’t the one that you were with today. A-and- I also didn’t like that the detective wouldn’t stop flirting with you…” His stuttered apology wasn’t what I was totally paying attention to, though don’t get me wrong I did appreciate it. What I was focused on was how much I wanted to claim him, to show him how much I was just as much as he was mine.

“Well, I’m glad you apologized, I accept it and I understand where you were coming from- plus the case hasn’t been easy on any of us. Just don’t ever do something like that again, please.” Spencer’s shoulders slumped from a sigh and an added nod, relaxing from my words after being tense with anxiety. Sauntering over to him after I had accepted his apology with one plan in mind made my panties wet with anticipation. When I straddled his lap his eyes blew wide, not expecting these turn of events. I grabbed the back of his hair, not too harshly, just enough to get a firm grip to tilt his hair back while I spoke into the shell of his ear, “And, now I’d like to show you how much I belong to you— and it’s just as much as you belong to me.”

Instead of getting an intelligible response from Spencer all I got was a moan, not that I was complaining. While I captured his lips in a breathless kiss I began to grind my hips down onto him in slow circles, giving him a taste of what’s to come.

He surrendered to my dominance in the kiss almost immediately, letting me guide him in any way I wanted him to go. As I rocked my hips over the bulge in his slacks I could feel it grow harder underneath me, I couldn’t wait to free it from its confines. I made sure to mark up his neck with as many hickies that made me satisfied- plus I let him give a few to me as well.

His submission underneath me wasn’t something that I was unused to. This time seemed to be a little different however.

I couldn’t place my finger on what exactly was different, maybe it was that we were so desperate for each other that the clothes practically melted off- which was a lot quicker than how we normally took our pace.

“Can I show you how good I can be for you, Miss?” His eyes were wide and begging, there was no way I could refuse a face like that.

That was how I ended up riding his face, with no hesitation in sight from him. All he wanted to do was to please and he was greedy for it. Even after I had started to pull up off of him after I had already had a shattering orgasm he pulled his hands down onto my hips to have me writhing on top of him im overstimulation. I could’ve punished him for it, but it felt too good to punish.

I was going to make sure he was ready too, possibly by taking him into my mouth for a bit, which I loved to do. However, his little whimpered out pleads about how much he wanted to feel me were just as hard to ignore as the previous pleas. It was hard to say no to a face that looked so pretty when he begged.

I sunk down on him slowly, at least letting myself relish in that feeling for a bit before Spencer would undoubtedly coax me into a faster pace because of how desperate he was. My own desperation wasn’t too far behind to be honest.

When I took him down fully to the hilt I only let myself feel the weight of him inside me for a moment before I started to roll my hips to create a rhythm. The pace I created was just as everything else up until this point had been, desperate.

While I bounced on him I had become unsatisfied with the amount of marks I had left on him before, diving into his neck to pepper them with hickies not really considering the fact that we had to go to work tomorrow. At least he still had that concealer he bought when we first started dating.

Seems that Spencer could not seem to think of it either as in between my ravishing of his neck and upper chest he’d also been getting in his fair share of marks. His were more centered at my chest, he’d been making sure my boobs were not neglected.

My second orgasm washed over me when Spencer brought up his fingers to rub my clit in quick circles. When my pace began to stutter in their movements as I rode myself through my orgasm while trying to help Spencer reach his, his hands came up to my hips to help aid me. Once my pleasure had partially abated I began to focus on his.

“Come on, sweet boy, you’ve shown me how good you are, now I want you to cum for me.”

His eyes rolled back into his head at my words, close to falling off the edge. I grabbed both of his hands interlinking them together and pinned them to the bed to help push him towards his release. A high pitched whine came up from his throat and he fell over the edge, cumming inside me.

We stayed together like that for a bit while we were both coming down from our highs. For a while there was only silence between us as we basked in each other's presence until I decided to make a joke.

“Are you no longer green with envy?” I simpered a bit at him, teasing him just a little as I started to even out my breath some whileI also traced all the marks I had left on him. I was teasing him about the events of today, but I’m reality that horrible detective was far from my mind- it was just Spencer and I. I’d have to see later while looking in the mirror what marks he had also left on me to claim me just as much as I had done to him.

His nose scrunched up at me and he giggled, his giggles were my favorite sound. When I first heard it I knew I would become addicted to pulling little giggles out of him as often as I could. In an uncharacteristic comeback through giggles Spencer then said, “No you kinda fucked it out of me.”

—-

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