#but its fine i had food and am drinking caffeine

[rubarb69]

Sometimes I wonder why im in such a bad mood, and then I realize... I need to eat food and drink caffeine...

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

112 of 2023

A shorter all-in-one survey! Created by Guia from scyphozoan

PT. 1: BOLDING (Disclaimer: Not all the following statements are necessarily true about me) I don’t drink anything with caffeine I plan to vote in an upcoming election (mandatory here) I have more than two best friends I’ve had more than one serious relationship I started taking surveys before I was 15 years old I love seafood I don’t have any allergy I wear glasses I’m good with money I prefer Android over iOS

PT. 2: CATEGORIES A) Physiological needs What kind of cooking method is your favorite? Is there a specific food you prefer to be cooked a specific way more than others?

I typically cook soups in a pot. Sometimes I use frying pan. Fries and small snaks I prepare in oil fryer. I have no preference, though.

How much sleep do you need to feel well-rested? Do you usually get this? If not, what commonly prevents you from getting this?

At least 6 hours, but preferably 8. Good sleep is essential to my wellbeing because of a neurological disorder. I usually sleep with breaks, but I’m working on it. My main cause is anxiety, so I got antidepressants from my psychiatrist and it should help in a while.

B) Safety needs What’s the longest time you’ve been unemployed and how would your habits/routine change if you were to become unemployed now? If you don’t normally work, what part of your current routine would require the most adjustment if you were to take on a 9-to-5 job tomorrow?

I haven’t been unemployed, but I’ve spent over a year on sick note due to physical disability, just recently came back for two half-days. I’ve never had 9 to 5 job, too. I’m a factory worker. I had to adjust, though; or rather my workplace has to accept that I have to take my medication at 8am, during work hours.

How do you feel about your overall health? What would you say can be improved? Is there anything you’re worried about?

Well, I have epilepsy and as far as I know, it’s incurable, medication only prevents the symptoms. This is my concern because most likely I’ll be doomed to medication for the rest of my life. Except that, one of my hands is disabled and has limited functions. I’ve just learnt to use it to some extent and I was able to come back to work, which makes me happy. Another thing I have is a connective tissue disorder known as Marfan syndrome, it affected mostly my eyes. My vision is really bad.

C) Love and belonging What makes you feel instant connection with new people? Is there a difference between the connection you look for in friends vs. romantic interests?

There’s no difference. I don’t really understand romantic love. I’m married, but he’s my best and closest friend. I feel connection through similar interests or through their attitude, I’m naturally drawn to kind and gentle people.

What would you say is the best thing about your relationship with parents, family or relatives?

That we can always count on each other.

D) Esteem How has your self-esteem changed over the years? Is there a specific thing that you would attribute this change to?

My self-esteem fluctuates, but it’s rather on the low side. I find it hard to believe that I’m likeable, even though I’m being credited as such. It doesn’t really change over years.

When did you become aware of your own social status? How important is it for you to maintain or improve your current social status?

When I started earning my own money, I guess. I could be classified as upper working class, because I’m a blue collar worker, but my job requires qualifications. I’m fine as I am, I don’t need more.

E) Self-actualization What part of you do you want to achieve to its full potential? How do you feel about where you are at on this specific thing?

My disability, definitely. I’ll never be 100% fine anymore, but I want to be able to use this hand on satisfactory level. I feel I’ve achieved a lot on that particular matter, but still, a lot needs to be improved.

What would you say is the biggest barrier between you and reaching your full potential?

My disability. It’s called disability for a reason.

PT. 3: RANDOM 1) What has been the highlight of your week so far?

I pushed my limits at work. I had to use physical force on something and it worked. I think I’m doing really well at work, for someone with physical disability.

2) What food would you love to have right now?

I’m not hungry, thanks.

3) Did you do anything for the first time recently? If so, what is it and what did you think of it?

Does the first time since my incident count? If so, then I pushed the floor plate for the first time in two years and I succeeded.

4) Describe your current mood. Is this a mood that your normally have?

Content, but sleepy. It’s one of my default moods, either this or anxious.

5) How do you feel about cleaning? How often do you clean your house and is there anything about it that you particularly like/dislike?

I’m okay with it. Not that I love it, but what needs to be done, needs to be done. I really dislike decluttering, though. I’m okay with dishes, laundry and vacuum cleaning.

6) How do you usually wear your hair? Do you have a go-to style for specific occasions or activity?

My hair is short, so I just put some hair gel on it. I don’t need to do more.

7) Name someone you had a falling out with.

Can’t recall any specific person.

8) Do you have a favorite part of your usual day? If not, what’s the first thing you usually do after getting out of bed?

Yeah, I love mornings. But the first things I do after waking up are going to the toilet (obviously), and then taking my medication. I do it even before getting dressed.

9) What would you say is your best habit?

Consistency and self-discipline. I’ve never missed a dose of my meds.

10) Who is the last person you interacted with on social media?

Someone who liked my post on Instagram, but I don’t know them in person.

PT. 4: THEMED 1) Game Night: Do you have a favorite party/board/card games?

Truth or Dare, I think. Nothing too extreme.

2) Old School: Do you know anyone who can be described as a “man child”?

Yeah, sadly I do. He doesn’t respect boundaries at all. Thankfully he lives in another country.

3) Office Christmas Party: Have you ever been to company gathering/party that actually turned out fun?

Many times. I quite love these.

4) The Heartbreak Kid: What is the shortest time you’ve been single between two different relationships? If you’ve never been in one, do you know anyone who can’t seem to stay single?

I think three months. I never cheated on my first ex, but I realised I started having feelings for my second ex while I was still in relationship. I realised it after breaking up, though.

5) No Country for Old Men: Do you like suspense in TV shows or movies? Is there a most suspenseful scene that stands out to you?

I don’t like any movies. For TV shows, I mostly like funny ones.

6) The Wolf of Wall Street: Is there any part of the ‘rich and famous lifestyle’ that appeals to you (e.g. drugs, luxury yachts, hanging out with celebrities, etc.)?

No. I love my life as it is, I don’t envy anyone, I value my privacy.

7) The Disaster Artist: What is the worst movie you’ve actually sat through until the end?

I don’t watch movies.

8) Her: Can you imagine actually having a relationship or even a friendship with an AI?

Could be hard, but why not being friends with one?

9) He’s Just Not That Into You: Was there ever a time when you felt more invested in someone than they were with you?

I think so. I had that kinda crush on two guys, but nothing has ever come out of it.

10) Interstellar: Do you like sci-fi? What movie genre do you enjoy the least?

I like sci-fi, but I don’t like movies. Threy are way too long and boring for me.

PT. 5: LISTING A) Your 5 favorite places to visit

Middelkerke

Ghent

the Netherlands

France

my parents’ house

B) Your 5 favorite songs

Lange Frans & Baas B - Ik Wacht Al Zo Lang

Vildhjarta - Shiver

HRFTR - Zealot

Tourist LeMC - We Begrijpen Mekaar

Kraantje Pappie - Pompen

C) Your 5 favorite people in the world

my husband

my sister

my dad

M.

my *celebrity crush*

PT. 6: PICTURE 1) How your penmanship looks like:

2) An outfit you’d wear during winter:

3) The kind of view you’d wish to have from your window:

4) An animal (other than a dog or cat) you find cute:

5) A nice rug or carpet you’d like to have in the house:

[sadpretty-blog-blog]

my body is so uncomfortable to exist in right now. even though mentally i know i’m okay and my body is doing what it’s supposed to be doing, physically i feel that something is not the way it usually is and it’s so uncomfortable. i feel like i have a balloon in my stomach but not how i usually feel bloated because i know how to make that feeling go away overnight but i have no idea how long this will last and its so frustrating it makes me actually want to cry. especially because i have a break from work this week and i can’t even enjoy it and it’s summertime but i want to stay inside in the air conditioning so i can wear baggy clothes and no one can look at me. i feel like i still look pregnant even though i know there’s no way i am. even when the bleeding and the cramping stops there’s no way of knowing when i will feel normal and my cycle will re regulate and i can at least have an idea of when i’ll be feeling like what. but now it’s so unpredictable i feel like i’m in 15 different bodies throughout the day because the pain and discomfort fluctuates so much. but the bloating doesn’t go away my stomach is just a ball all the time. and it makes me feel so fucking bad about myself i feel so heavy inside and so tired i feel like i want to take a bottle brush and scrub out my insides so i can feel lighter and fresher. i feel like my insides are dirty right now. like there’s an inch thick filth lining every inch of my body on the inside. and i am so tired of bleeding i don’t think i’ve ever had a period where i bleed this much. i think i’ve had more blood in the past 4 days than i normally do over two whole periods. i know it’s very normal it just feels uncomfortable and i want it to stop because i don’t like knowing there was that much inside of me to begin with. but i guess i’d rather it get out of my body i want everything out of me i feel so heavy and sludgy. 

i am also so frustrated because i know emotionally i’d feel fine if i didn’t feel this way physically. the relief i felt friday night was so gorgeous i wish i could feel that good all the time. i think i had a smile on my face while sitting on the couch all alone just feeling grateful that it was over, not realizing i still had days of discomfort ahead of me. i feel so frustrated by how disgusting i feel. i wanna feel skinny and pretty and sexy. and vic makes me feel so pretty because i know he genuinely believes it but i don’t feel pretty i feel fat and lardy and thick and like i look like i let myself go. which makes me want to sob hysterically because i care so much about how my body looks but i feel so out of control. 

i think that’s the problem i feel very out of control. i can’t just drink a laxative and have a flat stomach tomorrow. i cant wear whatever tight clothes i want because they aren’t fitting me right. it doesn’t matter if i wake up early or drink 3 caffeinated drinks in 1 day because i will still be exhausted. it doesn’t matter if my hair and makeup look so good because right in the middle of my body i feel swollen and misshapen and so so wrong. maybe this was what i needed to really regain self control and push myself farther than i ever have before once it’s over. maybe if i start now i can get a head start. i don’t need to eat food to feel better emotionally. it only ends up hurting me in the long run when i hate my reflection and i want to tear all my clothes to shreds and not let another living being look at me. i need to only eat when i am actually hungry and stop eating when i’m satiated and not so stuffed that i don’t want to move. and i need to fucking wake up early and move my body and do things and get out of the house so i can burn calories and stop sitting on the fucking couch. i don’t deserve to sit on the couch or eat garbage anymore i don’t do anything to deserve it. maybe i deserve the couch for a few more days until i feel good but i don’t need to be eating snacks or sugar or sodium or carbs or anything i will regret or anything that will cause more and more bloating. i need self control again. i need to be in control of myself and my body. it’s up to me what i look like and how i feel and i think i forget that. i don’t like how i look in the mirror and i guess i feel like it’s not my fault or like there’s some invisible force making me look the way i do. but there is nothing and no one in control over myself but me. i need to take control. i am taking control over myself right now. 

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 26 - Blood On My Name [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, guns.

Word Count: 3000

Summary: No one can run away forever.

There were some days when you just knew it wouldn’t be easy for you, and today was one of them, that was for sure. It was as if after seeing how Spencer had managed to charm your family the other night and how everything was going well in your relationship, the universe had decided to throw in some difficulties to make it interesting.

For starters, you had forgotten to buy coffee the day before so you couldn’t even have your much needed caffeine. After managing to get rid of the sleepiness with a very cold shower and getting ready, you left your apartment to get to your car, and that was when the second problem hit.

It wouldn’t start no matter how much you tried, so you had to take a taxi to your office.

And as if all that wasn’t enough, Spencer had decided to call you with some bad news as well.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined, pressing the phone to your ear as you paced in your office, “Spencer, please tell me you’re not leaving me alone at a party I didn’t even want to go to in the first place!”

“Trust me, I don’t want to.”

“You have a case,” you felt the need to repeat, “Today of all days.”

“We’re flying there in ten.”

You heaved a sigh and plopped down to the couch, nibbling your lip.

“I’m really sorry,” he said softly, “I swear I’d be there if I could.”

You sook your head, “No, don’t be sorry,” you murmured, “I get that. It’s your job. Besides, it’s probably a life or death situation if they called you guys there.”

He hummed in agreement, “Probably,” he said “But are you going to be alright?”

“I mean I’ll probably drink a lot,” you tried to joke, “And miss you for the whole night.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he confessed, “They’re sending some agents to make sure the copycat doesn’t try anything at that party if they even show up, but… Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“When am I not careful?”

He scoffed a laugh, “Do you want a list? Because I think it’d be a long list.”

“I’m always careful!” you protested, “Also, given our occupations it’s kind of ironic to hear this from you, I’ll have you know.”

You could almost hear his smile, “Just promise me.”

“I’ll be very careful,” you said, “Cross my heart. Besides, it’s Nolan’s company, professor. No one can walk there with any weapon, it’s a security company remember? Even I am leaving my knife at home.”

“Just don’t go anywhere alone, be in the crowd for the whole time—”

“Make sure to stay where security cameras can see me, I know.” You finished his sentence for him, “It’s not my first rodeo. Relax boyfriend, it’s just one boring party. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Don’t say that,” he warned you, “Bad things happen when people say that.”

“I didn’t take you for a superstitious type, professor.”

“I’m not,” he said, “I just don’t want to take any chances. It’s already bad enough that I won’t be there.”

“You’re telling me,” you said, “I was hoping we could hook up somewhere in there, it’s a huge building.”

You heard his chuckle, “You’re incorrigible.”

“Well it’s always Mina and Kenzie who have fun in these things, for once I want to have fun too!” you defended yourself, “Besides, don’t pretend like you don’t like it.”

“Hey, I said nothing of the sort.”

“Reid, come on.” You heard Luke’s voice and Spencer sighed.

“I should go,” he told you, “I love you.”

A smile warmed your face, “I love you too,” you said, “Go save some lives.”

You hung up, then ran a hand over your face, slumping on the couch.

“Y/N?” your assistant knocked on the glass door of your office before peeking her head in, “Hi, are you busy?”

“Not really,” you sat up straighter, “What’s up?”

“You wanted me to remind you when it’s time for lunch,” she said, “Also I sent your dress for tonight to your place, the front desk will get it.”

“Thanks,” you checked the time and stood up to walk to your desk, “Damn it, I’m going to be late.”

“I also called the mechanics, but they said it would take two days for it to be fixed.”

“Today just gets better and better,” you muttered and she tilted her head,

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Hm?” you looked up, “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine, it’s just one of those days. Since the morning everything is going bad, and I was hoping my boyfriend would be with me at this party, but he had something to do so…”

“Maybe he can change his mind?” she suggested, “See, I had this boyfriend once, and he said he wouldn’t show up to my birthday party because we had this huge fight, but then he showed up anyway.”

“Oh it’s not like that,” you shook your head, “There’s no fight, he’s just not gonna be in the city tonight.”

She scrunched up her nose, “That sucks.”

You scoffed a laugh and grabbed your coat and your purse, “It’s fine. Where are we on the Riley wedding flower arrangement by the way?”

“All confirmed, she says she loved it,” she said and you smiled.

“Thanks,” you said as you walked to the elevator with her following you, “I’ll be back in an hour, okay? Have a nice lunch.”  

                                                        ***

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lincoln said as you sipped your rosé, looking around the restaurant you two were having lunch in, “How did you even break down your car?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“When was the last time you took it to a mechanic to get it checked out?”

“When I bought it?” you said and he let out a chuckle.

“So you have no car for tonight?”

You pulled your brows together, “Tonight? How did you-?”

“You know we run in the same social circle right?” he said, “My dad’s company also does business with Nolan, of course I’m invited. That being said, I wasn’t sure if I would show up, but since here you are, begging me to help you—“

“I’m just eating my food here.”

“I can drive you there,” he finished his sentence as if you didn’t interrupt him and you tilted your head.

“I can just take a cab,” you said, “Or mom could send a car, it’s fine. You don’t have to.”

“Consider it my thanks for your unrequited advices on my relationship.”

“Oh you need more advice?” you perked up and he rolled his eyes.

“No.”

“You made up with your girlfriend then?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You really need to go to Italy for a surprise visit,” you pointed at him with your fork “That’d be incredibly romantic.”

“Is that right, love doctor?”

Your jaw dropped, “Come on, when have I ever failed you with my advice?” you asked, “If you love this girl, you need to show her that.”

“I’m just gonna play it cool.”

“That’s a terrible idea!” you said, “I know you’re not the romantic type, but you need to at least make an effort!”

He shot you a look “I’m a romantic.”

“Bullshit,” you let out a laugh, “You might be the most emotionally distant person I’ve seen after me, and you’re telling me you’re—“

“I believe that some people are meant to be,” he cut you off, “No matter the circumstances. Consequences be damned, anyone who thinks otherwise doesn’t deserve to be in love. I think if you’re in love, you should adore that person every day, and be there for them for better or worse. Whatever sacrifice it takes.”

You blinked a couple of times, shock coming over you, “Linc…”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the woman I love,” he told you, “Trust me. Nothing at all.”

You just gawked at him for a few seconds before you put your fork down.

“I stand corrected,” you muttered, and he grinned at you.

“Yeah, how does it feel to be wrong?”

“Oh shut up,” you said and stabbed your salad once more, ignoring his laugh.

By the time your lunch with Lincoln was over and you got back to your office, your fingers were itching to text Spencer. Reminding yourself that he was probably busy, you managed to suppress the urge and waited for the elevator doors to open.

Erica was already waiting for you by the door and you let out a whine.

“Don’t tell me,” you said, “You have bad news because today has a grudge with me.”

“I mean it’s not bad, but I figured you’d want to know.”

“Give me some good news, like you saw a puppy today or they named a whiskey after me or—“

“Your mother is waiting for you in your office.”

“I said good news, Erica.” you reminded her and made your way to your office before you opened the glass door to step inside. Your mother looked over her shoulder, sitting up straighter on the couch.

“Hi honey.”

“Hi mom,” you walked to peck her on the cheek, “What’s up? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need help,” she said and you hung your coat, placed your purse on the coffee table, motioning at one of the interns for coffee before you leaned back to the table.

“Sure thing, what is it?”

“How do my nails look?” she held up her hand and you pulled your brows together.

“That’s what you need help with?” you asked “You do realize that this is why we have phones?”

“No, I wanted to talk face to face for my next question.”

“Ah, I won’t like that question will I?” you hissed in a breath, “Your nails are fine by the way.”

“It’s just that, I don’t know when Nolan will propose so I booked my nail artist for a month.”

“I want to have your problems,” you muttered as your phone buzzed and you checked the screen, then touched the text message.

From: Spencer

The power of Love borne in my lady's eyes

imparts its grace to all she looks upon.

You couldn’t help the wide smile pulling at your lips as you skimmed Dante’s lines, then thought for a moment and typed in:

See that you bless the day that I took you captive; it is your duty to do so.

“Y/N!”

You lifted your head, “Hm?”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you lowered the phone as the intern brought you two cups of coffee. You thanked her, then turned to your mother, “It’s just… Spencer is out of the city again, that’s why— never mind. What did you want to ask me?”

“I think I have an idea about Nolan’s proposal and this…potential marriage.”

You cleared your throat, “Uh, sorry. My client list is full.”

“Nobody buys that excuse honey.”

“I mean can you blame me?” you asked, “You would be the worst bride I’ve ever had to deal with, no offense.”

“First of all, I’ll just have a cocktail, not a wedding,” she said, “It would be inappropriate to have a wedding, considering our ages.”

“Mom!” you protested, “That’s not a thing! Anyone can have a wedding, fuck what society thinks.”

“Very delicately put, but I’ve made up my mind,” she said, “That’s not what I came here for. I decided, I want to be with Nolan and spend the rest of my life with him. So I will say yes when he proposes.”

“A surprise to no one,” you grinned and she shot you a look.

“But considering what people would think, I feel like I need to make a schedule. Do you happen to know when Spencer will propose?”

The coffee you were drinking went down the wrong tube and you started coughing, but your mother sipped her own coffee, patiently waiting for you to stop.

“Say- say what now?” you asked and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Yes, I was thinking I could stay engaged to Nolan until after your future wedding.”

“Mom we’re not— I’m—“ you stammered, “That’s not happening.”

She tilted her head, “Oh don’t be nonsense, you’re in love. Very obvious to anyone who has eyes, he couldn’t stop looking at you throughout dinner the other night.”

“Yeah but….” you cleared your throat, “I don’t think he’s planning anything like that.”

“Well—“

“I’m not going to ask him if he’s planning anything like that,” you cut her off, “I don’t live in Victorian ages, neither do you. I told you, you can get married to the eccentric billionaire puppy with a bowtie whenever you want.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “Unbelievable.”

“Right back at you lady.”

“If Nolan lets you know about when, you will tell me okay?”

“I doubt he’ll let me know, he looks like he’s got it covered.”

“And you’re still planning my cocktail party when the time comes.”

“Mom, no!” you let out a whine, throwing your head back, “Please don’t do that to me. I’m your daughter, you’re supposed to love me!”

“I do love you, that’s why I don’t trust anyone else with my wedding except for you.”

“Don’t trust me,” you said, “I’m begging you not to trust me. Planning Mina’s wedding was bad enough, you’re even a bigger control freak than she is—“

“Y/N.”

“I say that respectfully!”

She put her cup of coffee on the glass table, then stood up.

“Just remember, I absolutely hate carnation flowers and polyester gives me a rash.”

“Why does God hate me?” you wondered out loud and she kissed you on the cheek.

“I’ll see you tonight honey,” she said and walked out of your office, ignoring your overly dramatic whining. You buried your face into your palms, letting out a groan.

“I really should’ve drunk something heavier than rosé.”

                                                         ***

You had picked this dress thinking Spencer would like it, and now that he wouldn’t be there with you, you were two seconds away from changing it. You heaved a sigh, looking in the mirror before you fixed the tulle floor length skirt of the pale pink dress and pulled at the long sleeves adorned with lace. The small screen by the door lit up as it started ringing and you walked there to touch it, then told the doorman that he could send Lincoln upstairs when he told you he was there.  

Soon enough, the doorbell rang and you opened it.

“Hey,” you said, grinning when he did a double take and blinked a couple of times.

“Wow.”

“Bad wow?”

“Good wow.”

“Why thanks Linc, you clean up well too. Come in!” you stepped aside so that he could enter the apartment and he looked around as you closed the door.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks,” you said and checked the time before you went to the kitchen island. “You’re early.”

“And you started early,” he nodded at the wine glass on the kitchen island, making you shrug.

“I just have one e-mail to check for confirmation, then we can go.”

“No rush,” he said, leaning back to the wall as you looked at the photos of the wedding venue for your newest client, swirling the wine in your glass.

“You want some?”

“Nah, not yet,” he said, “Work stuff?”

“Mm hm,” you mumbled, “She describes the venue she wants as boho-glam so it’s going to be pretty tough for me to find a lot of options.”

“Your job is definitely more fun than mine.”

“My job is harder than yours,” you pointed at him and he scoffed.

“How is that?”

“Have you ever dealt with an angry bride?” you asked him, “You wouldn’t last a goddamn second. Just the other day, one of them tried to make me give her a list of her wedding dress options too, the one thing I’m not responsible from.”

“I mean can you blame her?” Lincoln asked, “You obviously have a good taste, look at yourself.”

“Aw thanks Linc,” you hit send, and closed down the laptop lid before you reached for your wine glass to take a sip, taking a step towards the coffee table.

“Yeah I’ll almost feel sorry for Spencer for missing it.”

It took you a second. For a second, it was all good and then you stopped dead on your tracks, a shudder running down your spine as your brain comprehended what he just told you. You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arms as you put the glass down, your back still turned to him.

“I never told you I was dating Spencer,” you managed to mumble through frozen lips and he chuckled.

“No you didn’t,” he said, “Erica told me. Family dinner with Spencer, it was on your schedule the other night.”

Your thoughts were like a tornado in your head as your heart started slamming against your ribcage and you turned to him, your eyes finding potential weapons you could use all around the room instantly and he tilted his head.

“So I know that there are about fifty things in this room you can attack me with,” he said, “But just so you know, if you try anything, your niece goes down. You don’t want your precious Lily to have an accident, do you? Because I don’t either.”

That red haze clouded your vision for a moment as your jaw clenched.

“I’m going to kill you,” your voice didn’t even sound like it belonged to you anymore, it was way too cold, way too calm, the shock leaving its place to fury roaring through your veins. A manic smile pulled at Lincoln’s lips and that dangerous gleam which you had seen multiple times in your father’s eyes appeared in his eyes as well before he took a step towards you.

“I missed your fire,” he said as if he was in awe, “So much. It’s been a torture to keep my distance from you. But honestly, Petal,” he tut-tutted, then reached behind him and pulled out his gun to point it at you.

“You should’ve known better.”

Chapter 27 

[asavt]

Another cookie squad Headcanons

Featuring Sparkling, Vampire, cellphones and the Espresso and Madeleine Story of how they came together. Consider it an AU now baby!

-As a note, when I say the squad I'm mostly referring to the adults, so no worries about Walnut or Creampuff useless I mention them too

-Each one of the squad has been in Sparkling's bar at last once. There's no need to say who has been there the most. Sparkling has a time every time someone besides Roguefort comes, because to him it's mostly like "Oh I'll finally know the continuation to the burnt toast accident or maybe the cat catastrophe? Maybe a new POV of the--"

He practically knows a lot of what happens in between the squad.

-As another note, Sparkling's bar is called Milabo (You know, like the song from Zutomayo of the same name, which, btw, I relate a lot to Latte)

-*A great part of this “AU” is kind of inspired by the song. Part of its lyrics and vibe.

-Vampire is there most of the time when the squad visits the bar (it's almost as if he never leaves the bar and this is definitely not me low-key putting sparkvamp in this oh no--) Sometimes the fakes his sleep to listen to the things others say (Which is how he knows most of Rogue's pan-ic).

-Walnut has been in Sparkling's bar too, but at day and for case-solving purposes only. Sparkling will give her some alcohol-free drink for free sometimes (mostly because he gets along pretty well with the nut family and because Almond usually pays him whatever he serves her).

-If the squad had cellphones (and probably an app like discord because.), their group chat would initially be called "Coffee mage appreciation group" and then be changed to "Coffee bean appreciation group"

Coffee Bean: Can we please change the group name and mine?

Guided by the Devine: No <3

Coffee Bean: Fuck you.

-*And they all would dedicate half their time to make fun of Almond but with love.

-Espresso has been mistaken for a dark mage before by Almond. It was how they meet actually. Almond had pulled him to interrogate him and got a long lecture on the differences between black magic and coffee magic.

-Madeleine gets along rather well with Roguefort. Rogue seems impressed by Maddie’s acting skills.

-Madeleine is currently living with Espresso. Out of his armor most of the time. He usually takes care of keeping the house clean and preparing meals (He never really had to cook before but the first dish he made wasn’t bad at all). Sometimes he will tag along Almond in the detective’s work, or Almond will ask for his help.

-I’m still unsure if I want the Almond/Roguefort/Latte to be romantic or platonic. But honestly? Both are good. Latte is pretty close to Almond and Roguefort but not in the way she is with Espresso (that makes them look like siblings jkashduawhu). Perhaps I’ll keep it platonic.

-The Espresseleine/Madespresso story of how they came together, because I seem to not be able to write it down JSHALDHUIWADWA-

--It happens after the Puppet Show mini quest. Madeleine starts to ask for Espresso's "assistance" in different mission that are given to him. Angel is there too, of course.

--During these missions is that Essy clarifies that no, they are not friends, no, he does not like Madeleine. Bringing up the knight begin too prideful and self-centered if not all then most of the time.

--Is not until one of their missions goes wrong, were Angel is knocked out and Espresso (seeing and knowing that if Madeleine is knocked down too they might not be able to go back to the kingdom ever) pretty much receives a rather big attack for Madeleine is that he kind realizes the facts given by espresso true. All while he is carrying Essy and Angel back to the kingdom, running and exhausted too.

--Clover begin kind of a mediator between the two (I want to see more of my son--)

--"Devine, protect us" Should happen too after this. An scenario like, Madeleine coming to think something like "I'm the shield, the one who goes on the front line and receives the blows for those who can't, always looking straight ahead... but if I am doing that then who watches my back? Who do I rely on and trust to take care of most enemies so the damage received is not overwhelming...?"

Power of team work baby!!!

--As a note to this, Maddie getting his cape damaged as well as his hair. So, you get short hair Maddie~

(I've been drawing him with short hair in secret now I have an excuse to show)

-- "You...cut your hair..." *Madeleine touches the points of it with one of his hands, pensive* "...pft it'll grow back!"

--There's also this "Search for your own light" thing between Angel and Maddie. Angel encouraging Madeleine to do so. Maybe Madeleine giving his best wishes to them for their wish to fly before they decide to part ways.

--Madeleine trying other ways to befriend Essy. Which at first Espresso mistaken as the knight usual attempts to befriend anyone he sees out of habit and attention seeking, but once they realize the feeling is completely genuine, Espresso is rather perplexed.

--"You can't just befriend people by buying them gifts (although I do appreciate them)" "Then what?" "hmm..."

--Said gifts used to be rather expensive things, simple though. Eventually Madeleine settles to just pass by Espresso's place, give him any food he had bought that day (which usually is glazed donuts), ask if he needs any help with something (getting a vase, materials, moving things), and if not then he just says his good byes, best wishes and silently leaves. (A note on the "silently leaves": Madeleine is pretty much used to speak loudly and enter loudly anywhere, he still does this at this point, but when it's about Espresso he is a bit more quiet, a bit showy over his entrances still, but less loud, and he actually knocks the door)

--Madeleine eventually manages to go out with Espresso to other places that aren't some place in the forest full of enemies. Probably after some more visits to his place and more calm talks between the two, Madeleine brings up that Espresso tends to act a bit cold or distant towards a lot of people, and that, although he understands his discomfort at begin in public spaces or too long out of his work, he should try and open up a bit. This reminds Essy of a certain friend he hasn't seen in some time, and from whom he keeps getting letters.

--Shenanigans.

--There's still some bickering between the two, always with a playful undertone though.

--Espresso explains Madeleine, one time the knight has gotten Espresso wrapped in a blanket burrito again and got him to bed, that sometimes, no matter how tired he might feel, he is simply unable to sleep. Part of a headcanon of mine that coffee magic has this side effect on it's users, prolonged usage of this kind of magic will induce a high caffeine kind of state, which on the long run can fuck up the user's sleep schedule. Madeleine understands this, but remains stubborn about keeping Espresso in the bed so at last he can get some rest from his work and clear his mind a little, the idiot falls asleep in the process and Espresso doesn't try to wake him up.

--This happens several times after, neither of them thinking of the implications of not begin bothered by the sudden closeness they share until it's too late.

--Espresso realizes first that he has slowly, yet nicely, fallen for Madeleine. I think I talked about this before but I'll do it again: Is in one of the times Madeleine has gotten Espresso to bed to get some rest, Espresso not begin able to fall asleep and Madeleine doing again. Is while he thinks of how he has gotten to know Madeleine for real, not the Knight Commander from a noble family or the Chosen by the Devine, but as he is, that he comes to think that "Ah.... I love him" and he remains calm about it.

--Espresso doesn't overthink it, just thinks that, if Madeleine ever got an interest in him, he would surely show it. So he waits. Even if in the end his feelings aren't mutual he knows he'll do just fine remaining friends.

--Madeleine realizes not many days after. And the realization hits him like a truck. Alone in his place and probably in bed looking at the ceiling thinking about Espresso. Once he realizes and thinks about it a bit more his face gets all red and chooses to scream in the pillow.

--He would think about telling Espresso as soon as he can, after all, he doesn't want his feelings to make their friendship weird. He values it, a lot. Maybe because his friendship with Espresso it's the first one where he genuinely wanted to become friends with someone.

--Espresso takes the confession calmly, gets all flustered after they kiss for the first time.

--As a few extras of this: Madeleine goes back to the Republic, asked to be seen by his family and Espresso goes to Parfedia, where a few students have applied to his class to his surprise. When they see each other again is at Parfedia (Madeleine sending a message to Espresso beforehand about his arrival) -there was this one drawing I did once of Maddie running to hug Espresso, something like that happens-. Madeleine gets very clingy for some reason, which they speak later and comes out as “Home doesn’t quite feel like home…” “Why is that?” “I don’t know… maybe I’ve become used to be around you”

--Espresso lets ends up letting Madeleine stay with him until he either feels like returning to the Republic or is called back, whatever happens first (though none will happen for maybe a year or a little more).

--Ends with Madeleine meeting Latte and Almond.

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Gojo Satoru general headcanons

Let's get one thing clear: this man is absolutely chaotic. He is always full of energy. His energy levels never reach below 50%. He is loud and proud, always running, and never takes a minute to relax.

Do not give him Monster. Shoko did that once and it took her forever to get him off the ceiling. Also, avoid caffeine. Shoko replaces his normal coffee with decaf and he still hasn't noticed the difference. Keep it that way.

He was the class clown when he was younger. He wasn't exactly a trouble maker, but he may as well be. I cannot word that sentence and I am sorry. Next.

All of his teachers assumed he never listened in class, so they always called in him when they thought he wasn't paying attention. It still shocked them every time he rattled off the correct answer.

Not only did he answer the question correctly, but he could also explain his reasoning behind the answer, and if it was multiple choice, explain why the other answers were wrong. 

This tall man child would march up to the board and absolutely fill it to the brim with work, turn around, drop the chalk-like a mic drop and walk back to his desk with the smuggest look on his face.

That doesn't mean he did the work tho

Idk how schools in japan work but we all know schools in America only care about the amount of work you do and not what you actually know so we'll use that for the sake of the headcanon: he had straight D's bc he never turned in his work

Despite not doing the work snd goofing off, teachers actually really liked him

A lot of people liked him and he was super popular, but he still felt alone

Fake friends, you know how that works, he didn't meet any real friends until he became a shaman

Clean freak. This dude actually makes his bed. He scrubs his bathroom twice a week. His desk can get cluttered but he straightens up once a week. He's not exactly a germaphobe because

He cannot respect your personal space and that's actually canon but let me take it a step further 

He's a slapper. Especially when he laughs. It doesn't hurt, it's playful dw. He hugs you from behind especially when he's cold. He picks you up and carries you around. He will grab your wrist, arm, or hand and lead you around even if you're following him. He lays his legs across you or lays across your lap. Puts his head on your shoulder. Platonic cuddling between friends is mandatory. He's just so hands-on it's ridiculous.

Unless you explicitly tell him you're uncomfortable he won't stop

Don't worry, if you aren't in that type of relationship, your no-no square is safe. Except, if you seem chill, he will slap your ass regardless of friendship status. His ass is also slappable. You can't tell me Geto and Gojo didn't run around slapping each other asses, okay

He was weird and scrawny as a child. He didn't start beefing out until he started training to be a shaman and he's still kinda smaller than most beefy boys

He can pick you up and throw you around easily. He carried around a 170 pound Yuji like a sack of potatoes and can easily carry around three times that weight

It's amazing he's so tiny because you remember 2014 Shane Dawson making all of those wack ass desserts that was just s pile of chaos wrapped in chocolate?

He can eat every last bite of one of those monstrosities without getting a stomach ache, gaining weight, or dying basically

He knows bc Yuji dared him to do it

He has really cold hands and feet

He sounds old. Let me elaborate. He's constantly cracking his joints. They also creak when he moves. He complains about body pains like he's 80 y/o

He also shares wisdom with the kids as if he's actually 80 y/o

It's irrelevant advice that doesn't make sense but is also useful. Megumi can't count the number of times he's asked Gojo for feedback on his technique but had been told to remember to chew 40 times or never go to bed angry

Starts off sentences with "now son" and "when I was your age"

He uses his blindfold as a headband when he wants his hair out of his face. He also uses headbands as... Headbands... When he wants to wear sunglasses but get his hair out of his face

He owns so many pairs of sunglasses but he always wears the same pair

He's only bought a handful of them himself, most of them are gifts

No one knows what to get him for Christmas or his birthday bc he has everything, so they resort to sunglasses

His favorite pair is a pair that Shoko and Geto bought him as a gag. He thought they were dead serious, though, so he wore them around for a month

They were heart-shaped, rose-tinted glasses

Can you believe this man doesn't use any gel or anything to keep his hair spiky with the blindfold on? It just naturally defies gravity when the blindfold is on

Tell this man he's pretty because he already knows. He's narcissistic but not the cringy kind

Photogenic as hell. Takes great pictures from any angle. 

He gives everyone a different story as to why he covers his eyes. Sometimes he says it's because his eyes are too pretty and are a distraction. Sometimes he says it's because the sunglasses/bandages/blindfold look cooler than his eyes. Sometimes he says it's to protect the six eyes from seeing things he doesn't want to see. The world may never know

He's tried covering his whole face before, but he thinks he's too pretty for that. He at least wants one of his many amazing features to be shown at all times.

So about his driver's license;

He knows how to drive. He can be a good driver. When he wants to be. He just doesn't have a driver's license.

Now he TELLS people he just never got around to getting one, however, there's a rumor he lost it due to too many parking tickets

It's amazing the only tickets he's ever gotten have been from that and once he got caught without a seatbelt; he would have gotten out of that one if he hadn't been flirting with the police officer so bad

This doesn't stop Gojo from driving places though

He steals Ijichi's car a LOT and Ijichi DOESN'T KNOW HOW like??? The windows are never broken and it doesn't look hotwired-

Gojo has a key

You're not even supposed to be able to duplicate car keys but Gojo did 

Also; none of the first-year trio knows he doesn't have a driver's license, though that much should be painfully obvious

He whips around corners, speeds up at yellow lights, goes "watch this" and does a donut, it's just a mess

The poor students have to sit in the backseat too. Just imagine Megumi with all three seatbelts around him like that one meme.

He thrives off of Nobara and Yuji screaming from the backseat, and he can see Megumi being smooshed because he thought the middle seat was the safest through the rearview mirror

Which he doesn't even need because of the six eyes

Despite being such a reckless driver, he knows when danger will happen, so he's never once gotten in a wreck

He blasts the radio, which makes up for the driving.

Has a habit of getting in a car and ending up in the McDonalds drive-thru

Steals other people's fries and keeps the fullest one for himself.

He was rebellious as a kid and teenager, but hey, at least his juvie record is sealed 

He's been detained and in the back of a cop car many times, but the reason was never really bad enough for him to be arrested. Mostly he's just being mouthy. And the time he got caught spray painting on the side of a building. And that one time he and Getou hopped the fence to get into the local pool. And that other time-

It got worse after Getou wasn't around to get him out of trouble. Suddenly, breaking the rules wasn't fun anymore and he mellowed out. 

Tried alcohol and cigarettes before he was legal. Decided neither was his thing, however, he did start drinking occasionally when he was legal.

He's a fucking chaotic drunk. Oh my god he's absolutely feral

Most bars in the vicinity know him by name and they sigh whenever he walks in

Shoko is his emergency contact. She hates it

Shoko has to drag drunk Gojo home at least twice a month and is not happy about it

Once she left him in an alley. He made it home okay so she guesses it's fine

Once he got so drunk he spilled beer on his sock. The thought the fastest way to dry them was by sticking them in the microwave. Forgot about it until someone asked, "Who the fuck is cooking socks???"

I feel it important he was in the break room of the local grocery store and no one knows how he got there

As he was escorted out he stole a grocery cart and rode away in it while singing Don't Threaten Me (With A Good Time) by Panic! At The Disco

He has no alcohol tolerance at all what so ever

He will literally just stare at you and giggle

It's funny he's really flirty but also doesn't seal the deal. Literally, every woman in that bar is willing to get in his bed but he declines every offer. No one knows why

Its because he respects women

He helps his students break the rules as long as they're within reason. Once night Yuji was really hungry and after having a temper tantrum he couldn't order Uber eats bc the school is supposed to be secret Gojo helped sneak him out to get food. Who needs curfew anyway.

The shirts in his closet range from like twenty bucks to the iconic rich bitch shirt the kids ruined in that one chapter we all know the one 

He still wears that by the way, he calls it "art" 

When he was younger, Megumi drew a picture of Gojo being eaten by his shadow dogs. Gojo found it and now it's framed in his room.

He keeps up with current trends and memes like no one's business. This is how he bonds with his kids.

Don't call him old, but also, he'll tell you to respect your elders it's a mess

He has a lot of games on his phone. You can usually find him holding his phone sideways playing some RPG game he probably spent too much money on 

He did hop on the Pokemon Go hype train but after becoming overpowered he got bored

This happens to a lot of games. He pays way too much money, gets to be the strongest in the server, and gets bored

He likes games where you can kill other people's troops and likes to watch as they lose all their power

I canon him as being borderline sadistic

This is why he's Sakata Gintoki reincarnated

White hair, sweet tooth, black leather clothes, dad vibes, never takes anything seriously bc when he does he's scary as fuck, the works.

He is Sakata Gintoki

He liked Gintama growing up. He watched a lot of iconic shows as they aired. He considers himself an og

He's hella bilingual

Because he's the strongest he goes overseas for missions a lot. Because of this he speaks a lot of languages and knows a lot about international cuisine 

He takes pictures of himself eating disgusting foods like snails. He never likes them but he loves the idea of Nobara gagging back in japan

Has paperwork sitting untouched on his desk from three months ago that he will not touch for at least another three months

Does the crossword puzzles in the newspaper every week

Uses humor as a coping mechanism and it honestly just became a personality

Constantly popping his joints. I'm sorry if you find this gross I too find it gross.

Probably brought home every stray animal he ever met ever until he was at least like 22 y/o

Tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn

[sigmaleph]

@serinemolecule asked me for hot takes on this 2006 article on Argentinian food, which I am now reorganising into a proper post for y'all's consumption. you're welcome.

First of all: the titular thesis that you should eat two steaks a day. I am forced to clarify that as 'should's go you should eat zero steaks a day, but this is ethical rather dietary advice and I don't follow it as well as I should, so, y'know. I would engage with this on the level it was stated, but I actually have no opinion on it. Moving on...

Argentine beef really is extraordinary. Almost all of this has to do with how the cows are raised. There are no factory feedlots in Argentina; the animals still eat pampas grass their whole lives, in open pasture, and not the chicken droppings and feathers mixed with corn that pass for animal feed in the United States.

This is, as it happens, completely false. There absolutely is plenty of feedlot beef being eaten in Argentina, and this was also the case back when this article was written. There's grass-fed beef too, and maybe the writer structured their life around only eating those, but the claim that there are no feedlots is just not true.

if you let them make the call, you get a two-inch thick of meat[...]The Argentine steak stands alone, towering three inches over the plate,[...]This gorgeous specimen is called a lomito; it's a standard lunchtime steak, clearly so thin that the Argentines are embarrassed to send it out into the world without a protective wrapping of ham and cheese

I have no idea what their obsession with steak thickness is; meat exists at various levels of thick and thin to suit various tastes. If you like yours thick that's fine but quit the projecting, y'know.

As you might expect, vegetarians will have a somewhat rough time here. For most people in Argentina, a vegetarian is something you eat. One's diet will accordingly lean heavily on pastas, gnocchi, salads, and (for the less squeamish ) fish. Vegans will not survive in Argentina.

This is, unfortunately, true (well, hyperbole, but). Rinna had a rather bad time trying to find vegan food when fae came over for visits. The situation is improving slowly, at least.

The homemade cookies bought in the minimarket downstairs taste of steak. [picture of alfajores de maicena[

Jesus. Find somewhere better to buy your snacks.

It should be no surprise that the land of beef also has excellent milk and butter. The milk comes in plastic bags that would give any American marketing department a heart attack. They proudly advertise "GUARANTEED 100% BRUCELLOSIS AND HOOF-AND-MOUTH FREE". One brand even brags that its bacteria count never exceeds 100,000 per mL, and prints daily statistics to prove it (only 82,000 bacteria/mL on Monday! mmm!).

Are you under the impression American milk doesn't contain bacteria and that when it spoils it's because of the molecules' sheer willpower? Or do you just object to the reminder that they exist?

This menu is delicious, but with rare exceptions it is all you are going to get. People coming for more than a few weeks are advised to bring a discreet bottle of Tabasco sauce.

Eat at better restaurants.

With any order from the master menu comes the Bread Basket, which should be treated as you would treat a basket of wax fruit, that is, as a purely decorative ornament. It is considered bad form to actually eat anything from Bread Basket

What are you talking about. Do all your dining companions just suck, eat some bread.

Dulce de leche is a culinary cry for help. It says "save us, we are baffled and alone in the kitchen, we don't know what to do for dessert and we're going to boil condensed milk and sugar together until help arrives". This cloying dessert tar is so impossibly sweet that you wish you were ten years old again, just so you could actually enjoy it. It is everywhere. There is a special dulce de leche shelf in the supermarket dairy case, and the containers go up to a liter in size. Even the churros are stuffed with it - the churros, Montresor!

It is rare that I feel insulted for the sake of my country, but this? How dare you.

Yes, of course we fill churros with dulce de leche; the real question is why anyone doesn't, short of dietary restrictions. Finding out that people do otherwise was like learning that in other countries, "sandwich" just means two slices of bread. Live a little. Eat a real godsdamned churro.

I spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out how meals work in Argentina, and they remain a mystery to me. Dinner is clear enough: people tend to go to restaurants beginning at ten o'clock (for those with small children), with the main rush around eleven, and dinner is pretty much over at one or so in the morning. And breakfast - or rather, its absence - follows as a logical consequence of eating a steak the size of a beagle at midnight. But I have yet to figure out whether people eat some kind of meal in the afternoon, and if so, when.

At... noon? Like. We eat lunch. Usually somewhere around 12:00. I am eating lunch right now, and I have done so essentially every day of my life. This is just baffling.

I've come to think the culprit in the missing Argentine lunch scene is yerba mate.

how.

Where the ignorant foreigner may see just another kind of herbal tea (yerba mate is a very unassuming shrub that grows in the northern parts of the country) the Argentine sees a taste treat of unimaginable subtlety, and a tonic for all his problems. The Wikipedia article on proper mate preparation should give you a warning of the level of obsessiveness attainable here (the Urugayans are even worse). To the virgin palate, mate tastes like green tea mixed with grass clippings. The beverage is traditionally drunk out of a little gourd, through a metal straw called a bombilla, with hot (but not boiling!!) water poured into it (without wetting the surface!! clockwise!!) from a thermos.

Yeah, this is accurate. Well, not the clockwise part, never heard anyone complain about that and I can't imagine it mattering.

What distinguishes mate from coffee and tea is the social context - two or more people share a gourd, with a designated pourer in charge of refilling it with hot water after each turn. The ritual is low-fuss but indispensible. You can buy mate gourds and thermoses in any grocery store, and get your thermos filled with hot water at any convenience store or gas station, but you will never see mate served in restaurants or sold in little disposable paper gourds, to go. it's not that people refuse to drink mate alone - anyone working a solitary shift will have a gourd in hand - but that the concept of being served mate by someone who does not share it with you seems impossible.

This is also true. Attempts have been made to sell to-go mate but it's never very popular, the social ritual is important. Also unfortunately a disease vector, I haven't had any mate in a year and a half.

Mate aficionados will tell you that mate contains a special compound, mateine, that serves as a tonic and mild stimulant, promoting alertness without making it hard to sleep, reducing fatigue and appetite, helping the digestion and serving as a mild diuretic. Scientists will tell you that mateine bears a suspicious resemblance to a chemical called caffeine. Mate aficionados will then grow indignant, explaining that mateine is really a stereoisomer (mirror image) of caffeine, with different effects, which will in turn irritate the scientists, who will snap that caffeine doesn't have a chiral center, so it can't have a distinguishable mirror image, and why don't the mate aficionados just put a sock in it.

The first part of this is true; some people definitely think "mateine" is different from caffeine and it absolutely isn't. Never heard the stereoisomer claim before but googling it does confirm some people say so.

still have no idea what any of this has to do with lunch, though. I promise you nobody skips lunch because mate is just too filling.

The wine here is very good (something has to stand up to that steak), but Argentina has no liquor to call its own, relying on whiskies like Old Smuggler and the low-maintenance Don Juan cognac to carry the flag.

There's a fundamental omission from this list and it's called fernet.

Beer is ubiquitous and comes in a bewildering variety of sizes, although there is a skittishness about the full-on liter. Things level off at 970 mL. In my case, it means I end up drinking 1940 mL of beer as a kind of personal protest, and all is well with the world. To make up for the abundance of sizes, beer comes in only one variety, Quilmes, which inevitably comes served with a tripartite platter of snacks - nuts, salty cylinders, and aged potato chips.

I never had trouble buying beer by the litre, but I confess I never tried to do so in 2006 on account of being under 18 at the time.

Anyway, beer comes in a lot more varieties today, thankfully, because Quilmes sucks. I'll never be a beer person, but at least these days there's options I tolerate.

[original post]

[softboywriting]

Hard To Love | Nathan Bateman | Ex Machina

Summary: You’re Nathan’s personal assistant. He’s an insufferable bastard. Both of you have unchecked tension and feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? [swearing] [sexual themes/situations] [arguments] [exhibitonism - implied] [pining] [Dominant!Nathan] [Nickname use - pet name/non derogatory] [Nathan being Nathan] [nsfw - kissing, lap sitting/grinding, heavily implied masturbation!f reader] [F!reader/Nathan]

Word Count: 7k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Nathan is...well... Nathan. Insufferable, workaholic, egotistical. He is a lot to handle and doing so isn't always easy. You had a lot of breakdowns, screaming matches, some nearly coming to blows. But you didn't give up and you learned to work around him, and coax him out of moods, serve him back the same dry humor and disinterest. After finding out he had gone through four assistants, two that never made it past their first week, you knew you couldn't give up on him. There was a diamond in the rough and you were going to find it because despite all of the hard times, you care for him. He's a fucking bastard, but he's your fucking bastard.

"It's been six months." Nathan says over breakfast one morning.

You look back from where you're cleaning up the pans you used to make his vegetable omelet with soy egg substitute. His favorite. You had taken over cooking from Kyoko three months ago when she began to malfunction. You're not sure what happened, or if maybe Nathan staged the malfunction to give you more to do. You suspect the latter.

"Six months? Really?"

"Don't act like you don't count the days."

"I don't actually." You set your plate of food on the table and he reaches for one of your toasts. He has his own, well, had. He ate it already but he has egg left so he wants more toast. "I stopped months ago."

He chuckles softly. "I still don't know why you won't quit."

"Why do you want me to?"

"I don't."

"Then why do you bring it up?" You raise your eyebrows and he shoots you a look over his vitamin water. "Cat got your tongue?"

Nathan folds his hands, elbows on the table as he shakes his head. "Most people in your position, having dealt with what you have dealt with, would be itching to get as far away as possible. Surely you must be mentally unstable to stay with me, gaining some sick pleasure from our fights and shit. I almost feel bad."

He almost feels bad, as if he were to blame for nothing. Typical. "And if I am fucked up? Gonna fire me?"

"Fuck no."

You smile over your coffee. Decaf. He won't have regular in the house after he nearly went into cardiac arrest from an over abundance of caffeine. He did it to himself. Slugging back redbulls with his vodka after drinking his pre-work out mix that had far more than he needed in it. He may be a technical genius but he can be such a fucking moron.

"You like me." You tease, rubbing your barefoot on his leg under the table. "You would miss me if I left."

He snorts indignantly but does not deny your observations.

"How was the food?"

"Perfect." He sits back, foot bumping yours now, running up the side. "Don't know how you do it."

"Perfect? Wow. High praise from you." You swat his foot away with yours and he starts trying to pin it down by stepping on it. "Better than Kyoko's?"

Nathan hums. "I programmed her with cooking skills from top chefs across the internet. Technically she should be the greatest chef on the planet. So the fact that you can make me food that is better floors me."

You hook your ankle around his and he lets out a little grunt. "Cooking is an act of love. Yes you can program an AI to make things perfectly but technical skill doesn't equate to preferred taste. Come on, Nathan, you're smarter than this."

"Questioning my intelligence now?"

"Every day." You jerk your leg back as he lifts his other foot to trap it. "Cheat! You cheater! One foot only!"

Nathan lets out a boisterous laugh, head falling back, hand over his chest. "You get so worked up over that!"

You roll your eyes and stab your eggs viciously. "Fuck off Nathan."

"No need to get so mouthy."

"Mouthy." You scoff. "Rich coming from you."

He stands, catching your chin in his grasp. "I got you to break."

"You- oh God damn it." You jerk away, arm extending to shove him.

He chuckles proudly to himself. "I'll be in my lab. Find me if you need me."

"Gonna let me in today?"

"I might."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you later."

____________________

Nathan could have the AI clean the house, but then you would run out of things to do. Honestly your job could be done by any one of his creations, humanoid or not. You don't actually need to be there at all, and yet Nathan keeps you around. For a man who is hell bent on privacy and secrecy surrounding his work, you have no idea how he has let others in. He laughs when he says that he had the men who built the complex killed after the fact. Surely it's a joke. You think. Though you've never asked, never dared to investigate the truth in his words. It's best you don't know.

The house doesn't need cleaning that often. Just laundry, dishes, some sweeping and mopping should you or Nathan track in mud after a hike. Most chores take a few hours out of one day a week. Your title is assistant and yet you don't actually assist him. Not in his work anyway. You feel like your title should be maid or housekeeper. It's fine, you really don't care because he pays you so generously that you would do whatever he needs you to.

"Kitten!" Nathan's voice comes from the intercom system built in the house. "Come to the lab, kitten."

You scowl at the nickname. He dubbed you Kitten your second day at the complex because he thought your wandering around perplexed by the maze like design of the house was akin to a new kitten trying to find its way in the world. You suppose there could be worse names he could call you, and there are ones that have come out in screaming matches, but kitten has stuck.

"Lab. Now. Come on."

"Fuck." You groan, tossing aside your book you were getting very into.

"I heard that."

"Of course you did." You lift your badge and scan the door to your room to head out into the hall. One of the AI walks by and you think her name is Lily. She's beautiful. Unfortunately her programming has failed and she cannot speak. "Hi Lily."

Lily raises her hand in greeting.

If she is out then that must mean Nathan has been working on her. You turn away from the AI and walk down the hall to the junction that splits left to Nathan's room and right to another hall that goes to the lab and test rooms. The lab door is open, the light blue on the access pad.

Nathan spins around in his chair. "Kitten, you've made it."

"As if I could get lost."

"I have something to show you."

"Do you? I thought you didn't want me involved in your work."

Nathan gives you a hard look. "Do you want to fucking see it or not?"

"I don't even know what it is."

He grabs a small item off his desk and brings it to you. "This is it. My newest AI."

You take the small flash drive from him and turn it over in your hands. "This is a new program?"

"Yes. My best work yet. I'm going to build her this week."

"Exciting."

"Please show some enthusiasm for fucks sake." He snatches the device from your hand. "I'm kind enough to share this with you, you could at least say thank you."

"I never asked."

Nathan slaps the flash drive down on the desk and stares at you. He is not used to being served his own cold attitude and he never will be. Since you started going toe to toe with him, he has been on top of his game. It's like you engage his mind beyond his massive ego. "You're insufferable."

"Likewise." You smile and he smiles back. The pissing match has ended. "I need to get groceries soon."

"You know what I like."

"Of course I do." You fold your arms over your chest and he averts his eyes for a moment. You know he's staring at your breasts, pushed up in the tank top you had chosen to wear while deep cleaning your bathroom earlier. "But what do you want?"

"Loaded question, kitten."

"Going that route today?"

"Maybe." He saunters towards you and catches your hair between his fingers. "I want... something sweet."

You raise your eyebrows. "You're craving sugar? Are you ill?"

He chuckles. "A little. Just in the head."

"Seriously."

"Yes I want something sweet. Get me some donuts." He puts his hands on his hips. "Get yourself something too."

"I always get myself stuff. Do you think I only buy your groceries?"

"It's my house, of course I think you buy my shit."

You reach out and touch his beard, fingertips gliding along his cheek. You don't miss the way his eyes flutter at your touch. "Do you need your beard oil? The conditioner stuff? Looks dry."

He grabs your hand and curls his fingers around yours. "Yes, I do. But don't touch it."

"Possessive today huh?" You smirk and he groans irritably deep in his throat. "You live for my touch."

"I live for you to leave me the fuck alone."

"Then fire me."

"No."

"Then suffer." You bring your other hand up and pat his opposite cheek. "Does physical affection bother you Nathan? Does touching another human bother you so mu-"

He backs you against the wall and pins your wrists. His face is only inches from yours, body pouring heat onto you. It sparks something deep inside and you feel heat pooling in between your legs. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" He murmurs, grip tight on your skin.

"Don't you have some issues to work out?"

"Fuck you."

"You'd like to."

Nathan drops your wrists at that and retreats into the lab, the door closing and locking behind him. It drives him mad that you're not one of his AI that he can order around and do what he pleases with. You like to think that's why he keeps you around, to remind him that he's human and he needs someone that isn't an algorithm to keep him sane. Maybe he also let a little piece of you crave out a chunk of his icy cold heart.

You rub your wrists and look at the reddened skin. They might bruise. You straighten your clothes and head back to your room. You'll need to wear something more appropriate to the store. It's cold out these days.

_____________________

"Do you get lonely?" Nathan asks one evening over drinks in the lounge.

You put down your laptop and give him your attention. It's the first time he's spoken to you in two days since the wrist grabbing incident. "Lonely?"

"Yeah. Do you miss relationships? Hook ups?"

"Not really. I was never super social to begin with."

"Right."

"Why?"

"Just curious." He takes a long drink, emptying his tumbler. "Why do you think I want to fuck you?"

You feel your cheeks redden. The way he is staring at you makes your arousal rear its ugly head. Staring shouldn't turn you on. He hasn't done anything. "I think you're desperate."

"Desperate?"

"Yeah. You decommissioned Kyoko months ago, Lily doesn't have a vagina and yes I know this because you told me in a drunken stupor ages ago. So you haven't fucked anything or anyone in months."

"You think I need to fuck?"

You stand and walk over to him, knocking his knees open to stand between his legs. "Nathan, just fucking admit that you want me. That you keep me around because one day you'll grow a pair of balls and ask me to sleep with you."

His hands come up and grab your hips. He pulls you down and you straddle his lap, thin pajama pants hardly acting as a barrier between you and his cock in his gray sweats. "I keep you around because you piss me off." He grips your ass and you roll your hips against him. "You piss me off and make my blood boil like no one else."

"So you hate me?"

Nathan brings your head down to meet his. "I couldn't hate you if I tried."

"Then what are we doing?"

"We're having a moment." He grabs your hair and you snap at his nose with your teeth in response. "Behave."

You let out a moan as he begins kissing up your throat. "This was your plan all along."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"No."

"Then I'll make you." His hand closes around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you stop talking. "Why do you have to be so in my head? Why..." He kisses your shoulder, biting the junction between it and your neck. "Why did you have to show up?"

"You hired me." You whisper and he drops his hand from your throat in favor of sliding it up your shirt. "You selected me."

He rolls his hips up against you, biting down on your skin to elicit a yelp from you. "You're damn right I did."

You grind down against his cock and he grabs your hips to still them. You let out a soft whine from the lack of pleasure and he grips harder.

"Get up."

Your heart sinks, and you stare at him in confusion. "What?"

"Get up. We're not doing this." Nathan pushes you off of his lap and you stumble to your feet.

You straighten your clothes and walk around the coffee table to grab your laptop. You can't say you didn't expect this. It was a long shot to begin with and you initiated it so you knew he would shut it down. Still, it hurts. His rejection isn't disinterest, it's personal protection. He won't let anyone that close to his heart.

"Good night, Nathan." You mutter as you head for the doors to the inner workings of the complex.

"Night, Kitten."

_____________________

It is three days before you see Nathan again. Locking himself away isn't uncommon practice. It's a Thursday when you see him out on the deck with the punching bag. You happened to catch a glance when you were preparing breakfast as you had every day. He didn't eat with you, but you still made it for him and left it under the warmer. The plate was always gone when you came back, so at least you know he is eating.

You grab a few grapefruits from the basket on the counter and start juicing them. It'll be a nice surprise for him. You grab a cup from the cupboard and tilt the juicer to dump its contents for you. It looks good, smells tart but it is not your type of juice. Fitting for a man like Nathan. Bitter, tart and sort of hard to swallow. You rub a bit of the squeezed rinde around the top of the glass and grab the sugar dish to sprinkle some around the rim. A little sweet to lessen the bite, a representation of you in this metaphor.

"Kitten, good morning." Nathan says as you approach with his juice and a towel. "What's this?"

"Grapefruit."

He raises his eyebrows. "Fresh?"

"Yep." You hand him the glass and he inspects it suspiciously. "No poison. Promise."

A smile creeps it's way across his face as he gulps it down. He takes a moment at the end to lick the sugar clean from the rim, keeping his eyes on yours the whole time. It's far more sexual than you think it should be, and it was never your intent to get this response.

"Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." You pass him the towel and take the glass.

Nathan scrubs the towel over his face and rests it around his neck. "I'm going for a hike later."

"Okay?"

"You're going with me." He turns back to the punching bag and starts his routine back up. "Be ready at nine."

You sigh. "Alright."

_____________________

Nathan's idea of a hike and your idea of a hike vary greatly. You view a hike as wandering around the forest along trails and seeing the beauty of nature before you. Leisurely pace, breaks, maybe a snack or two and some photos for the memories. Nathan however thinks hikes are treacherous climbs up cliffs and rock jumping across rivers and streams. He goes as quick as possible as if he's trying to get somewhere and he's going to be late. It's hardly relaxing.

"Come on, why are you so slow?" Nathan barks from atop a rock some several yards ahead of you.

You're panting, legs pushed to their limit from the half an hour long uphill climb you've just endured. You have no idea how he isn't even winded.

"Fuck off Nathan!" You huff, grabbing a scrubby looking tree for support as you haul yourself up over a broken chunk of the path. A game trail, not even a proper walking path.

He laughs, his voice echoing off the cliffs surrounding you. "You can do it, Kitten! Get that little ass up here!"

You finally reach him, your lungs threatening to explode. "First of all, this isn't a hike it's a rock climbing marathon." You hold a finger up to his face threateningly. "And second, my ass isn't little."

"Oh I know." He folds his arms over his chest.

"So you stare at my ass a lot then?"

"I'm a heterosexual man. Of course I'm going to look at your ass."

You roll your eyes. "Thanks for the objectification."

"You're welcome."

"Can we take a break here? My legs are killing me."

Nathan stretches his arms up and back. "This is why I brought you with me."

"Why?"

"So you can get some exercise. Your stamina is shit."

You glance to the drop off below then back at him. "You wanna keep insulting me?"

"Facts are not insults."

"I will push you off this cliff, Nathan."

He steps away from the edge and closer to you. He doesn't say anything about it. Doesn't apologize for the comments about your stamina and needing to work out more. He reaches for your face, plucking something off of your cheek. "Eyelash."

"Make a wish."

"Wishes are for children." He flicks his finger off to the side.

"I wish my boss would get his head out of his ass." You smirk triumphantly. "Is that a child's wish?"

Nathan flicks his eyes up and down your face, eyes settling on the bite bruise peaking out from under your sweatshirt collar. You had forgotten about it until this very moment, when you realize he hadn't seen it yet. "Is that mine?"

"Of course. Who else has been biting me out here in the middle of nowhere?" You reach up to touch it and he shoves your hand away to pull the fabric aside for himself.

"No one else can touch you."

Heat blossoms in your stomach at his jealousy tinged words. Possessive Nathan really does it for you. But he isn't your boyfriend. He is your boss. "I'm not yours Nathan."

His fingertips ghost over the nearly healed bruise. "Yes you are."

"I'm not."

"Then why don't you leave?"

You shove his hand off your shoulder and he gives you one of his famed deadly glares for doing something he doesn't like. "You don't want me. So I can't be yours."

"It's not that I don't want you, I can't have you." He turns and starts walking away, resuming the hike. How very like him. He says something stupidly cryptic that only makes sense to him. Whatever. You're not here for his affection and approval. You're here to be his assistant.

____________________

"I'm out of alcohol." Nathan states plainly, looking into the cupboard that usually has a few bottles of his favorite liquors. "Where is my shit?"

You look over from the fridge and smirk to yourself. "I thought you were on a detox again."

"I'm done with it. Where..." He turns and looks at you. "You didn't buy anything."

"Nope. I was told not to."

"By who?"

"You."

He purses his lips and looks around as if thinking about when he would have ever said that to you. He looks perplexed and you feel so smug. "Since when do you ever listen to me?"

You laugh softly. This is your fault now? Following his orders and not buying alcohol? Really.

"You're my boss. I usually follow your orders."

Nathan kicks the cupboard closed lightly. "Stop that."

"Stop what? Following your instructions?"

"Stop fucking with my head." He leans on the counter and takes his glasses off to dig his palms into his eyes. "You're so fucking irritating."

"Sure am." You gather some utensils from the counter that you left to dry and begin to put them away. "I live to make you suffer."

Nathan pulls his hands from his eyes and stares at you, eyebrows furrowed. It's like you're a puzzle and he's trying to see the solution. "Sometimes I wonder."

"You're being a baby."

"Excuse me?"

You walk over and stand in front of him, hands on your hips, mimicking his pose when he explains things to you. He doesn't fail to notice this as his eyes sweep over you in assessment and he raises his head as if challenging you. "You're only saying I'm irritating and making you suffer because you can't drink. It's been what? A week?"

"Eight days."

"A week. I'm sure you can make it another two weeks."

"You're fucking joking."

"Nope. I'm not going into town for groceries again until absolutely necessary. It's a three hour flight there and then back, remember?"

Nathan clenches the edge of the counter top with white knuckles.

"Get as pissed as you want." You lean in close and he nearly moves back. You know he won't back down from a challenge. "Maybe you'll have to face your demons sober. Maybe you'll figure your shit out."

"I didn't hire you to be my fucking therapist."

"Yet here I am."

Nathan pushes off the counter and grabs the bottle of water you set out for him before he goes off to lock himself in his lab for God knows how long. Ever since you came on to him he seems to be jumpy around you. You don't know why he won't just admit that he likes you, that he wants you. He is going to get blue balls sooner or later. Well, maybe not because he can jack off but actual sex isn't the same and you know he has a sex drive through the roof. You used to hear it at all hours of the morning before he deactivated Kyoko. You'd be lying if you said you didn't get off on it a few times.

_____________________

Days and days pass without a word from Nathan. Ten is now the most you've ever gone and after five you start to wonder if he is even in the house. Maybe he went for a walk and fell in the river. Maybe he pissed off his AI again and it finally strangled him. You would have no idea because the place is so huge and quiet for the most part. Aside from living quarters the complex is soundproofed. One would think Nathan's room beside yours would be for privacy but it's not. The freak. He wants people to hear him.

At the twelfth day mark you actually begin to worry. A twenty day sober Nathan may be a new kind of animal and you're not sure if you truly want to interact. Distance makes the heart grow fond though and while he is insufferable you do care for him and wish to see his stupid smug face. It's a risk but one you need to take.

The light on the lab door is red. Locked. You raise your key card and it buzzes, remaining red. He's denied your access to the lab. Shocker. You press the com button on the wall but it doesn't connect. He's shut that off too.

You lean your head on the cool cement wall and sigh. One more day. You'll give it one more day. If he doesn't show his face you'll get the override key card that resides in the hidden box in the bathroom. You found it ages ago, by pure accident. You've never used it and he has no idea that you even know about it. But you'll do what you have to do.

______________________

Morning of the next day you find yourself in bed, looking around the soft cream colored walls. An idea comes to mind. A dirty, dirty idea. You know Nathan has cameras in every room. He's too anal about protectng his work not to. Plus he has major trust issues.

You lean over the side of the bed and pull open the nightstand drawer. Inside is a small vibrator that you brought with you when you moved in. There's another box in there too. One that was there when you opened the drawer the first night. On the top it says "For your needs, because you're only human."

Of course you opened the box out of curiosity, Nathan had said everything in the room was for you so it wasn't snooping. In the box was a dildo, some lube and a little bullet vibrator. You had never used them, finding the gift too personal and odd. Complimentary soap? Normal. Complimentary extra blankets and pillows? Thoughtful. Complimentary sex toys? Insane. Until you got to know Nathan, you thought it was the weirdest thing ever. In fact, you forgot about the box after a while as you hadn't had the urge to get off until recently. Today however, you're going to make a show of it in hopes of getting his attention.

You dump the contents of the box on the bed and pick up the dildo, wrapping your fingers around it. It's life like, fleshy and soft but firm enough for it's intended use. It's bigger than you might usually prefer but nothing you can't handle with some extra time. And you've got nothing but time. You take a glance around the room, not seeing any obvious surveillance cameras. This may be for nothing.

You make quick work of your pajamas, toss aside the blankets and prop yourself against the headboard. You decide to keep your gaze fixed on the television, imagining it's where he is watching from. You close your eyes and let your hands start to wander, doing thier thing while your mind runs wild.

Time passes slowly as you work yourself over, adjusting to the dildo and working yourself into a heated frenzy. It would be easier if you had something to watch, some porn or something. You're not intent on making yourself come, but you will if it comes to that. You just want to put on a show to draw him out. That's what you're telling yourself anyway.

The power goes out, darkening the room and thrusting you into silence. The back up system announces its engagement and the emergency lights come up red. You sit up and lean your head back against the headboard. Great. You toss the toys aside and get up, pulling on your pajamas. You go to the door, punch in the code for manual override during power failure. Nathan is such a nerd. It's not a specific number but rather the theme to Star Wars.

The door clicks open and you go out into the hall. No one in sight, not that you really expected anyone. "Nathan!" You call out, heading for the lab door. Everything is eerie red and you don't like it. "Power is out!"

No response.

"Nathan James Bateman!" You sing song as you slide your card on the lab door. It buzzes. "I know you hear me you fuck!"

"Power restored. All systems active."

The hall turns white, back to the bright daylight simulated lighting. You lift your key card up in hopes that the system turned off his lock out coding for your card. Sure enough it turns blue and the door clicks open. Relief washes over you as you step into the darkened office where his computer is set up, notes on the wall, security feeds pulled up on two of the monitors. The door to the actual lab is open and you walk through into the bright area.

"Nate?" You call out, the nickname slipping out as your voice wavers a bit when you don't see him anywhere.

"Kitten?"

You spin around and see the man you seek emerge from a doorway. It's the server closet where the breaker box is. "Hey."

"How'd you get in here?"

"The power failure reset the lock codes."

"You can leave."

"Nathan, you haven't been out in almost two weeks. I'm starting to get worried. What are you eating? Are you sleeping?"

"I'm fine."

You give him a once over. Wrinkled clothes. Disheveled beard. Hair grown out longer than you remember, still buzzed but not so close. His skin is dull and lifeless. "You look like shit."

"What's new?"

"Oh come on. You're more vain than that. What are you doing in here anyway? Why the power failure?"

"Fuck off."

"What an original come back. I've been trying to get your attention for days. The fact that it took a power outage for me to get to you is sad." You walk up to him and touch his chest, there is a little bit of dried blood smeared on his shirt. A cut on his hand most likely. "Nathan, talk to me."

Nathan pushes away from you and goes to his design table where there are blueprints laid out for an AI.

"Nathan."

"Leave." There is no venom in his tone. If anything he sounds pleading.

You decide to make a bold move and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He stiffens, hands stilling on the table, pen falling from his fingers. "Please talk to me."

"Just go. I don't want to talk to you."

"Fine. Dinner is at six." You pause at the doorway to the office area. "Did you hear me?"

"Six."

"Good."

_____________________

Things fall back into a normal rhythm in the days following. You do your work and he does his. You eat together, go for walks, talk about his progress on the new AI. Everything seems to be back to it’s usual flow, how it always happened after big arguments or falling outs.

So while you’re sitting in the lab watching him work one day and he asks you about the dildo in the bedside table you're thrown for a loop. It’s far from his usual choice of topics and you had actually forgotten all about it. His mentioning of it brings back the memory of when you were laid out on your bed, literally masturbating to try and get his attention. Christ what a desperate move that was. Stupid.

"So have you opened it?"

"The dildo box? Yeah I've opened it." You try to remain casual as you discuss something so personal. You definitely aren’t thinking about how good it felt.

He smirks. "Used it?"

"No." A bold lie. He has no idea. He never saw you in your bedroom. At least you don't think he did. Why would he ask about it if he had? Why is he asking about it at all?

“You’re a shitty liar.” He turns around in his chair and faces you, pushing his glasses up off the end of his nose. “Did you like it?”

“I haven’t used it.”

“Do you want me to bring up the video? I will.” He stands and heads to the office. “Come on, come here.”

You slide off the table and walk behind him in your shame, cheeks hot. You knew you shouldn’t have lied. Of course he was testing you. It's Nathan for fucks sake. He gestures to his rolling chair and you take a seat while he leans over the desk and clicks around on files on the desktop. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yeah. It is.” He opens a play back window and you can see the view of your room. No surprise. You try to figure out where the hell this camera is based on the angle. It seems to be the top left corner above your closet but as far as you remember there is nothing there. “Oh, there you are.”

“Nathan.”

“No, no watch.” He points to the screen as you toss and turn on the bed. He speeds up the playback as you get into the drawer and get the box out. You deliberately clear the bed, undress, get back on the bed.

You roll your eyes, looking away from the screen and he places a hand on your head and turns it back to watch. “So? I’m masturbating. Whatever. You do it too. If I wasn’t supposed to use the damn thing why did you leave it for me?”

“Oh I don’t care that you used it.” He clicks a little audio icon beside the playback screen. “I just want to know why you lied about it.”

“I am embarrassed? I don't make a habit of talking about my-”

“Nathan.” Your voice plays back on the audio coming from the video playback and you wish you could sink into the floor and disappear. “Nathan, harder please!” Of course he has audio on the fucking cameras. Of fucking course he does because why not right? It’s his house, his research facility.

Nathan looks at you over his glasses. “You’re embarrassed about talking about masturbating or you’re embarrassed that you think of me when you do it and I found out? Actually don’t answer that because this looks deliberate.” He takes a seat on the desk, blocking the view of the monitors. “Now, are you going to lie to me again, or tell me what this is about?”

“I wanted to get your attention.”

“Well you got it honey.” He clicks a button on the keyboard and it stops the playback.

“I wanted your attention to get you out of the fucking lab. It had been almost two weeks since I had seen you and the only way I can reach you from outside is through the cameras. So I thought, maybe there is one in my room because you’re a fucking control freak. Low and behold I was right, but it didn’t work how I planned it to.” You fold your arms over your chest and he chuckles. “What’s so funny?”

“You.”

“Me? How is any of this funny?”

“What kind of person thinks that masturbating on camera is going to get someone’s attention? No, seriously, why wouldn’t you try flash signalling the cameras in the halls? Set up a cue card with a message? Who says I’m gonna fuck myself for my bosses attention?”

You take in a deep breath and clench your jaw. He’s right, kind of. You hate it but he is. In any other situation you never would have done this. So why did you? Why did your brain go straight to exhibitionism? Because it’s Nathan and you’ve got it bad for him and you wanted him to see you. He’s got your brain just as fucked up as he has his own.

“It was wrong, I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Nope.” He kicks his legs hanging over the desk. “I wanna know if you liked that dildo.”

“It was fine I guess.”

“Not too much?”

“Nathan, why do you fucking care?”

He hops off the desk and shakes his head as he heads into the lab. “I’m curious is all!”

“You’re a freak!”

“And yet you still like me!”

“I’m starting to wonder why.” You push up out of the chair, close the playback on the computer and leave the office. You’re covering that stupid camera and throwing that dildo in the trash chute. You should have known he’d get some weird complex out of watching you say his fucking name while plowing yourself with a toy. In a weird way it turns you on, but it also pisses you off because he won’t actually admit that he liked it. He won’t ever admit anything.

_____________________

“Can I ask you something?” You say to Nathan as he sits beside you on the couch. You’re in the lounge together, dinner long over, watching a movie as you wind down for the evening. He’s got his arm around the back of the cushions and your legs are pulled up under you, feet pressed against his thigh. You’re close, but not too close.

“I don’t know. Can you?”

“Don’t be a dick for ten minutes please.”

Nathan holds his hand up in defense. “Ten minutes. Shoot.”

“Promise you won’t be a dick? For real?”

“Yes. Ask me the damn question.”

You take a deep breath, knowing what you’re about to ask is going to be rough on him. “When we were on our hikes a few weeks ago, you said it wasn’t that you don’t want me, it’s that you can’t have me. What does that mean?”

Nathan stares ahead at the movie on the tv over the fireplace. A moment passes, a moment that is too long and makes the room fill with awkward tension. You expected this.

“Gonna stay quiet for the ten minutes you aren’t going to be a dick?”

“Shut up.” He says softly, no venom in the words.

You stare at him expectantly, awaiting a better answer than just shut up. “Seriously, would you just-”

Nathan’s arm comes up from the back on the couch and his hand catches the back of your head, dragging you closer to him as he presses a kiss to your lips. Your blood boils in the best way and you chase his lips as he pulls away. “That’s all it takes to shut you up?”

“Answer my question. Ten minutes aren’t up.”

“I can’t have you because you’re going to leave. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day you’re going to leave.”

“I’m not leaving Nathan.”

He scoffs. “So if I stopped paying you to be my assistant, you would stay?”

“Yes.”

"You're fucked up." He shakes his head. "You're fucked up and it's my fault."

You stare at him at a loss for words. Did he just admit fault for something? Are you hearing this correctly? Is Nathan Bateman, tech genius and egotistical maniac admitting he has done something? Holy shit.

"I did this to you. I made you stay here and endure my mood swings and drinking and all my shit. I stockholm syndrome'd you and I didn't even realize it." He leans his head back and closes his eyes. "You don't deserve this."

"Nathan, you didn't make me stay here. I chose to stay."

"Where the fuck were you going to go? Run off into the woods for days and days until you hope to find someone? What option did you have? I trapped you here. I've kept you caged in this house like an animal."

You lay your hand over his and he grabs it, threading your fingers together. "You don't think someone could actually love you, do you?"

"What?"

"You don't think someone could fall in love with you because you're insecure. You push people away, you push me away because you think it's easier than letting yourself feel something for someone."

Nathan looks pissed but he holds his tongue.

"I'm not trapped here, you aren't twisting my arm and making me stay here against my will. I know what I signed up for, I know what I signed in those contracts. I could have told you to fuck off and shove your head up your ass months ago and taken a helicopter back into the city. I could have just run away on any one of my dozen grocery runs in the last several months. But did I?"

"No."

"Why is that?"

"I don't fucking know."

You lay the hand not held in his, on to his cheek and turn his face to make him look at you. "Because I love you, Nathan."

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do. You're a real son of a bitch sometimes and I want to break your nose and choke you to death every once in a while but I care. I care about you, about your work, about your life. I want to be here, I want to be a part of your life Nathan. You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going anywhere."

Nathan gets up and you hold your joined hands tightly.

"Don't run away damn it!"

"I'm not! Would you let go!"

"I swear to fucking God if you lock yourself in that lab again I am going to get a battering ram."

He takes his glasses off and presses them into your palm. "Take these as collateral. I'll be right back."

You sit back on the couch and glare at his form as it disappears into the house. You clean his glasses carefully with the edge of your shirt and set them on the coffee table. He has to come back for them, he's as blind as a bat without them.

Nathan returns shortly with a small box. "I made these." He hands you the box and you open it as he puts his glasses back on. Inside are two black bands, rings.

"I don't understand."

"I made them because I know I can be difficult." He plucks one from the box. "They track the wearers vitals, change colors based on varying indicators, and they will work no matter how far apart they are."

"You made high tech mood rings."

He shoots you a glare. "I made them for you." He places the ring in his hand into your palm. "So you will know that I'm alright when I'm working long hours. I know I'm not the easiest to read and I don't have the easiest time expressing myself sometimes."

You put the ring on and it lights up a soft pink color. The moment Nathan slips his over his finger you can feel a soft steady pulse coming from the ring. "Is that your heartbeat?"

"Yeah." He holds his hand out and you can see his band is the same color pink. "I'll give you a breakdown on all the colors and functions later, but pink means the body is at ease."

"Do you love me? Just tell me, straight up no games."

"Yeah." He cups your cheek and brings you in for a kiss. "I love the shit out of you."

You break away from his kiss and press your foreheads together. "Can I ask just one more question?"

"Fire away."

"Is the dildo a mold of your dick?"

A smile spreads across his face and you already know the answer before he says it. "It is."

"You're a freak."

"And you absolutely love it."

You smile as he presses his lips to yours and pulls you over into his lap. "I guess I do."

The end

Please reblog if you read or like. Thank yo so much for reading! -A

Header by the lovey talented delicate-venus

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

[boytumms]

Its 5am and I'm miserable. Here's why.

2 days ago I ordered some Popeyes- 6 HUGE pieces of chicken, 2 boxes of fries, 8 biscuits, and mashed potatoes. I ate 2 pieces of chicken, a whole box of fries, 4 biscuits, and half the cup of mashed potatoes (damn that shit was good) on Saturday. So, no problem the first night. I finish ALL the food on Sunday and again I felt totally fine, until 10pm that is...

I wake up because I can't fall asleep for some reason, but I credit that to the 2 cans of energy drink I had today (my body is like hyper sensitive to caffeine). Then I start SWEATING. I'm trying to listen to music to calm myself down but it's not working. In the middle of a DangeloWallace video my belly starts cramping like all HELL like I've NEVER had a stomach ache this bad before. It's making hella noise too and all I can do is put a pillow on my stomach and lean over it (I had been delirious with nausea and pain for 2 hours at that point so don't question my questionable decisions aksvqkdvwi). I'm unreasonably scared of vomiting so I'm trying not to burp but that's keeping more gas inside and making me bloateddd and it's not coming out the other way either. So I have my left hand on my stomach, desperately trying to rub out the cramps, and my right hand holding my phone, scrolling through my fyp on tiktok (pay attention to that). Soo shit starts to hit the fan now. Maybe 10 minutes later (I wasn't keeping track of time) this HUGE cramp just hit me like an 8 wheeler and I audibly yell and double over even more than I already am. So in the midst of all that my sociopath of a digestive system decides it's rewind time and when I tell you my stomach ROLLED likeee there are no words to describe it. I sprint to the bathroom with my left hand still on my mess of a tummy buttt I kind of forgot that my right hand was occupied by my phone. So, in my haste to open the door, I drop my phone. And. It. C r a c k s. I'm in too much pain to register this at the moment so I just run into the bathroom and heave over the toilet for what felt like an hour but was probably 20 minutes. Nothing comes up and my belly hurts so bad that I'm crying...that's when I take initiative. As much as I hate this I take my index and middle finger and press on the back of my throat and I'm just gagging until I hit the jackpot! It's only a little bit at first but then my body finished the tutorial and speedran STRAIGHT to the final boss and I threw up literal chunks of food 🤢. After the fiasco is over I actually do feel a bit better but now I'm shaking and can barely lift my arm. Despite this I crawl back into bed and try to get some sleep. I figure that's not actually gonna happen though so I reach for my phone to scroll some more and then it hits me. As fast as I can I run to the bathroom and pick up my phone. Fast forward to now and I am typing on an Android with a cracked screen to pass the time cause there's no way in hell I'm going back to sleep. So yeah, thank you for listening to my TedTalk.

Holy cow dude, what a wild ride akdnkandkandkans

This sounds so painful but really hot haha, thanks for sharing :) All that food was just sitting in your poor stomach like a rock until you got sick! I would love to be there to rub your tummy and help you throw it all up <3 and after your tummy is empty again, we could start all over again…

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

Introductory prologue. The main pairing will be established ironstrange x reader. This story will be rated explicit, have some canon-typical violence and language. The 'fuck' harvest is bountiful this time of the year. Updates - irregular so far, I'm posting it as I go.

No y/n, no "you", no name - nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns. Please leave a comment if you spot a stray 'blushing' or the likes, I write as it flows and sometimes miss those words when I proofread. I try to be inclusive of all my readers.

"Your total is twelve dollars, seventeen cents," I rattled off on autopilot, casting a glance at the cash register and plastering an automatic smile onto my face. The pleasant expression was frozen on it, stuck like glue, despite the news I had received earlier in the day. "Thank you, have a nice day," I doubted the customer actually heard my words.

One of those business-types, wearing a tailored two-piece, with a Bluetooth headset attached to their ear and brain always a mile away, our little coffee shop a mild interruption in their daily routine of making more and more money. "Hello, how can I help you?" I addressed the next customer, my eyes unseeing, gliding over their face and to the storefront where I noticed we were running low on eclairs and carrot cake.

"Hey, Starlight," the woman's voice was familiar, tone soothing, as I snapped my eyes to meet a pair of reddish-brown ones, staring at me with concern. "The usual," our city's very own superhero; Wanda Maximoff stood before me with her head curiously tilted to the side and her brother hovering behind her, examining the assortment of various cakes on display. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," I sighed, sending off the organic, single-use cups with scribbles off to Dave, our barista. Wanda's order was large, usually about ten or twelve coffees and quite a few treats, so I donned on some nitrile gloves to package the treats while Dave handled the drinks with practiced ease. I admired his stoicism. "Might be seeing a bit less of me," the woman's eyebrows rose in displeasure at my admission.

"Tony won't be happy," Wanda mumbled, side-eyeing the backdoor behind which my boss usually resided during the day. "You got fired?" The words attracted the attention of her brother. Pietro was immediately at her side, joining into the concerned staring.

"Nope," I popped the 'p', methodically shoving the food in its packaging. "The café is expanding hours and our shifts are being split now. Jeremy is dead set on me working the graveyard shift, so I'll be here six AM to two PM," I couldn't help the sigh that left my lips.

My boss, Jeremy, had opened his boulangerie little over two years ago, and as he had predicted, it set off almost immediately. The place was located almost in the heart of the dozen corporate sky-rises full of busy, wealthy people who liked their things to be both instant and luxurious. Jeremy had fit right in with the law sharks and business vultures, if you ask me, with his penchant for demanding the impossible.

I was expecting an increase in work hours, I wasn't going to lie - our little cafe was busy nearly all the time it was open - but the fact that he chose to split a day's shift came as a punch to the gut. Like most service staff, I made most of my money from the tips, and they and they only were the only reason I stayed in a place with a shrew for a boss and the worst health insurance in the area. Thankfully, the rich businessmen from local offices didn't count their money and left me more than generous tips.

The coffee machine beeped for the last time as Dave passed me the three cupholders before I carefully bagged them, arranging the treats on top. I saw Wanda lick her lips at the aromas coming from the paper bag before Pietro snatched them out of my grasp. I rattled off the total, catching Wanda's eye as she passed me several twenty dollar bills, waving off my attempt to return the change.

"Penny for your wandering thoughts?" She smiled warmly as I chuckled at the question I've grown to expect with a quiet sort of joy.

The first time she'd wandered in, soaking wet from the rain and looking as lost as a child in a mall, ten minutes before closing time, I was reading my book right at the counter as I waited for the coffee machine to clean itself. I hadn't even noticed the quiet woman until her words startled me out of the book-induced trance and I shamefully had to ask her to repeat herself, hastily shoving my book under the counter. She smiled at me, shyly, and asked me about my reading instead of rattling an order for one of the sickly sweet caffeine concoctions female customers seemed to love. And she returned in a few days, asking the same question after taking a careful look at my face.

"And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about." I took a careful moment to recall a paragraph from the book I was currently reading, Murakami's 'Kafka on the Shore'. It seemed fitting, with all that had been going on in my life recently. I was still caught in the middle of the storm, unsure if I'd make it out but hoping for it nonetheless.

"That's beautiful," Pietro smiled at me, the tips of his silver hair reflecting the lights of the cafe's baroque style chandeliers. I barely managed to smile at him as he was already speeding off, the entrance door banging shut behind a blur of white and blue. Each time he did that, I couldn't help but wonder how he managed to not spill any of the hot beverages.

"Because it's true," Wanda added with a comforting smile. I nodded in agreement, hoping some of her positive attitude would dissipate the sense of doom I'd been lugging around all day. She departed, taking the sense of comfort with her, as I caught the tail end of something shouted in Sokovian - something that sounded exactly in place, coming from one disgruntled sibling to another.

When the residents of the nearby Stark tower began frequenting my workplace, I barely had the composure to stifle my quiet fangirling to socially acceptable levels. Not long after the Scarlet Witch turned a semi-regular, she started bringing her colleagues with her - Hawkeye at first, who was a decent, normal dude; he looked like an exasperated dad and Pietro appeared every thing the rambunctious son, as the younger man peppered the older man with questions about the cakes on our display.

They all had fancy names, but at the bottom of it, a chocolate cake was a chocolate cake. That much I told them, with a snort, earning myself a lopsided grin and a generous tip as I patiently listed off the more commonly used, simplified designations for the twins as the knowledge of them being European immigrants crossed my mind.

After Hawkeye came the Black Widow, and then Captain America with a sunny smile and his moody boyfriend in tow. While Bucky Barnes' expression was generally sour, the man had a wicked sweet tooth, shoveling frosted, glazed treats at the rate of a competitive eater. Both men were extremely polite if not very chatty and tipped well.

Tony Stark himself - well, he was a special one. His sense of humour trailed on the fine line of obscene, oftentimes raising the eyebrows of nearby people standing in line. I wasn't born yesterday, either: years of customer service work left me with little-to-no surprise regarding overzealous men and I could quip back equally as sharply, just slightly south of Tony's own jokes. He never overstepped, however, and with time, I developed a quiet appreciation for our small talks.

Which did brighten up my day, if only a little. "A little birdy told me your boss is being a douchebag. Want me to clean up that muck?" Tony was, as usual, wearing a bespoke suit and sunglasses, which he'd pushed up to his forehead as he frivolously leaned on the counter after placing his order.

I sighed, remembering Wanda's words. I didn't know what to expect from the eccentric billionaire; last of all, I didn't want any handouts. I'd started a search for a second part-time job the very day I got told my pay would be essentially cut in half. "No need, Mr. Stark, I'm gonna be fine and dandy," I replied with a smile that I was sure didn't really reach my eyes. "We'll still be able to resume our nice chit-chat at brunch on Saturdays," I winked, hoping to keep up the usual light atmosphere of our banter.

"I told you to call me Tony!" He exclaimed, like always, shaking his head and glaring at the back door. "Yeah, no," the man had absolutely no chill. "I'll still sic the IRS on him," the last part was said quietly. Mr. Stark often spoke to himself.

I laughed at the rich-kid, spoilt way he was acting. A grown man with an attitude of a teenager and a sweet tooth to match one - except for his coffee. That was always the strongest, blackest one we had on hand. I hadn't even heard of a triple espresso until Mr. Stark had waltzed in, skipping the line and filling the air around him with the smells of cologne that smelled like money, motor oil, iron and soot.

The moment I opened my e-mail at home, I felt my gloomy mood worsen, Mr. Stark's words echoing in my head. I'd sent my resumes to two dozen places and only a handful even bothered to reply - all preemptive rejections, there weren't businesses needing a part-time employee with a useless degree, who could only work evenings. Except bars, but they required some sort of certificate for bartenders and lots and lots of bare skin for waitresses. I tried to steer away from that part of the industry as much as I could, saving it as a last resort option.

It had come down to browsing Craigslist as I ate my way through a carton of cheap take-out, too exhausted to cook and too anxious to go out to the nearby bodega after 9 PM. One more negative side of working late shift - making my way home in the dead of the night in NYC and hoping Spider-Man was hanging out nearby should a thug decide on me to be their next victim. The joys of big city life.

As the column of various ads stared at me with various suspicious offers to make quick money, ads for 'young, sociable women' and I stared back at them in muted disgust. The 'looking for a job' section was much more sensible with the few ads I'd clicked on out of curiosity depicting people seemingly in a similar situation as me - short on money but not desperate enough to surrender their dignity to corporate greed. The decision was momentary - I'd started typing and hit the post button before I was through with my food, slapping my old laptop shut as soon as the as posted.

Hopefully, the creeps will stay away. The next couple of days stretched out slowly as I got up at the crack of dawn to open the shop, served the early birds whilst sipping my own matcha latte and clocked out not a second later than 2PM, taking home half the usual amount of tips. My e-mail remained as silent as ever, only a few suspicious replies to my ad, texts that I didn't even bother replying to. Human trafficking and pyramid schemes, was that all that NYC had to offer?

Apparently, not. Around 6PM, my phone dinged as a notification popped up and I scrambled to read it - all too aware of the upcoming rent day, and was pleasantly surprised with the contents of the e-mail, re-reading it several times to make sure there weren't any hidden stones under the water. I replied with my phone number, not expecting it to ring within minutes of hitting the send button.

"Hello?"

"Hi, we just corresponded," the voice on the other side was feminine but slightly rough, as if it's owner spent days chain-smoking. "I would like to invite you for a small interview, if you wouldn't mind."

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Could I ask you some questions first?" The levels of anxiety, I thought, were reasonable in the situation. It mutely gnawed at my chest.

"Sure," the woman agreed amicably. "My name is Odette, by the way," she mentioned off-handedly, the name fitting her voice in a strange way.

"Uh, well," I stammered. "You mentioned it's a herbal medicine shop, you're not selling weed under the counter, are you?" I voiced my worries meekly, hoping for an honest answer.

The woman laughed, a sharp, terse sound. "No, dear, I do not sell or possess anything illegal. I merely offer supplies for the locals that prefer natural, alternative medicine." She sounded jovial.

"Like - um, healing crystals?" I vaguely remembered reading about them on the internet, or seeing them in a YouTube video, perhaps.

"Yes, we sell those, too," her tone grew more joyful at the mention of the shiny rocks. I didn't think that they actually cured anything, to be honest, however I was willing to give it some credit - the placebo effect was a scientific fact. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

"Okay then," I chuckled nervously. "I'm free tomorrow after 3 PM."

"Grand. The shop is open until 10 PM, just say your name at the counter and I'll be right with you."

As soon as I hung up, relief and curiosity and trepidation blossomed within me, imagination unhelpfully supplying images of human trafficking documentaries, basements with chains and other, less horrifying but still unusual things. The pep talk over a wine glass that I had was necessary: it was a herbal shop, for fuck's sake. Worst case, I'm going to work with Karens who think the Earth is flat and quartz cures cancer. I could even get a funny story or two out of those, something to share with Bucky or Wanda in lieu of the usual book quotes I entertain them with.

The day went by smoothly, the café no more and no less busy than usual so after a brief detour back home to put on something that didn't smell like coffee grounds and yeast: comfortable pants and a soft sweater, something that would keep me warm but would not unnecessarily restrict any movement. My good luck charm, a large oval necklace with a shiny gold star in the middle, hung heavily around my neck, providing quiet comfort.

Heart thudding in my chest, I approached the old-style, inconspicuous building, double-checking the address before opening the old, heavy wooden door right at the corner of the building. It was like a movie scene, in a way - the day was overcast, meager sun rays shining through the lead curtain of clouds, the streets were clear and few honks rung out in the far end of block, sending a flock of pigeons into a lazy scatter over the slanted roof. The door creaked softly, the handle cold under my touch, instantly filling my nose with a strong smell of herbs so plentiful, I could not distinguish one from another.

Inside didn't look any less intriguing: the décor was outdated but somehow fitting and homely, high wooden shelves stocked with glass jars and wooden boxes with neatly placed labels on them. The counter was empty - save for a large, golden bell, which I timidly pressed.

The woman who emerged from behind the worn cotton curtains behind the counter most certainly was impressive. Tall and broad, with dark eyebrows and even darker eyes, she critically surveyed me for a moment, making me shiver under her gaze - and then she smiled, revealing rows of pearly white teeth and instantaneously losing the imposing aura around her.

"Um, hi- I'm-" I didn't get to finish my nervous stammering.

She interrupted me with a careless wave of her hand. "Here for the interview. Yes. Welcome, Star," her eyes briefly fell on my necklace while I struggled to swallow the unease.

I hadn't told her my nickname - to be honest, these days, I heard it more often than my given name. People quickly took notice of my love of star-patterned items and teased me relentlessly over it, losing heat only when I calmly went along with it, too used to hearing the same jokes since my early childhood.

Odette motioned me over, parting the curtains to reveal a tiny, but tastefully decorated hall with two doors on each side and a staircase at the far end of it. I followed her into the room on the left, which turned out to be a peculiar sort of office. I thought I noticed an Ouija board in there but wisely kept my mouth shut.

"I live on the floor above the shop so don't go throwing any parties while you're on the job," she remarked playfully, gesturing to a pot of tea. "It's peppermint, does wonders for calming one's demeanor," the gesture was sweet - and very telling.

I wondered if I looked as spooked as I felt. After all, it didn't seem like Odette and her business were fishy in any way, and the décor and atmosphere were quite... Appealing, in a way. Something magical, something belonging in Europe or on a high schooler's Pinterest board. I sipped my tea in-between questions, thinking how maybe, I could actually grow accustomed to this place.

The shopkeeper acted as if I'd already accepted the job and I - well, it's not like I had any other options waiting for me. The pay was more than I expected it to be, for such a small bodega and a part-time shift, and it would help me cover my bills with enough to spare. The customers were said to be mostly regular and undemanding, with a few rare exceptions, and should I need assistance, the owner was always a call and a floor away.

With a considerably lighter heart, I left to pad the damp sidewalk back towards my house. Thankfully, my new workplace was only a short walk away.

The tag list is open until the story is finished. Please use the 'taglist' Google form to request (top of the fic, clickable link).

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

[blitzturtles]

Title: It Goes Like This (It Starts Like This Universe)

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo

Pairing(s): BruAbba

Summary: Abbacchio isn’t a morning person. Never has been. He prefers the comfort that comes with a blanket of darkness to the bright hours of the early morning. There’s less eyes. Less people. Less performance. Unfortunately, he’s gone and fallen in love with a man that believes that the day begins before the sun has even broken the horizon.

Notes: This is for the first place to my 300 Follower Giveaway! @bucciaratisfishmarket requested BruAbba set in my It Starts Like This verse with some disabled slice of life/morning routine. Ngl, I was super excited to get to do something in this verse, so thank you!

Thank you to everyone that followed and participated, and a special thanks to @bucciaratisfishmarket! I hope you like your fic!

Additional Notes: Also, the pill organizer described in the fic can be found on Etsy: https://www.etsy.com/listing/1022344896/boneyard-real-bones-weekly-7-day-pill It's cool and beautiful, and I probably don't do it justice. Definitely go check it out!

-

Abbacchio isn’t a morning person. Never has been. He prefers the comfort that comes with a blanket of darkness to the bright hours of the early morning. There’s less eyes. Less people. Less performance. Unfortunately, he’s gone and fallen in love with a man that believes that the day begins before the sun has even broken the horizon. It’s leftover from Bruno’s days helping his father with the boat, and, later, his days running Polpo’s errands. Chasing people down for money and answers. What comfort Abbacchio can find in the night, Bruno can find just fine in the light hours of the morning.

Fortunately for both of them, Abbacchio is more than capable of running on a schedule, of waking up at the same time everyday and forcing his mind and body into cooperation. He did it for years for school and then the academy. It’s nothing he isn’t used to, and he’s happiest when Bruno is happy, no matter what that entails, which is how he finds himself waking up to Bruno’s second alarm before the man can snooze it again.

The thing about Bruno’s new medication—a pill large in size and equally ridiculous in the length of its name—is that it makes it damn near impossible for him to get going in the morning the way he used to. Before, Bruno practically operated on his own internal clock. Waking up before his alarm had even gone off and fetching them both their first cup of caffeine; it used to be the thing that made greeting the day a bit more tolerable.

Now, Bruno snoozes. Alarm after alarm, until they run out. He’s tried music, absurd volumes, and even relocating the damned clock halfway across the room. None of it helps, so Leone compensates. He wakes up around the second or third alarm, turns the rest off, and kisses Bruno’s cheek before he rolls out of bed.

Sometimes there’s a quiet plea, “five more minutes”, that endears Abbacchio so completely that his mood settles, not nearly as bitchy as he could be upon reaching the kitchen and finding someone else already there.

“Why are you awake?” Okay, so. Still bitchy. But he doesn’t sneer his words quite as bad.

Narancia, for his part, looks completely startled by the prospect of someone else existing at such an ungodly hour, but he manages to avoid outright screaming. That’s a plus. Abbacchio isn’t sure his head could take it this early. “What are you doing?”

“I asked first.”

Narancia narrows his eyes, but he caves within seconds. “I got a test in like two hours, and Fugo’s gonna kill me if I don’t pass.”

Abbacchio snorts at the idea, “Yeah, he will.”

“Not helping!”

“Never said I planned to,” Abbacchio points out as he starts rummaging through the cabinets for two mugs. He sets them on the counter and gets to work brewing their coffee. Decaf these days, for Bruno’s sake. Abbacchio could keep drinking his usual, but he takes solace in the bitter taste of his coffee instead. It seems kinder that way, especially when he knows how much Bruno’s been struggling without caffeine.

“Why are you awake?”

“I’m always awake this early,” next is breakfast, which is easier said than done. It’s rare that Abbacchio wakes up with a stomach for anything. Too many years of skipping breakfast in favor of a bottle did a number on him, but it’s not optional anymore. Neither one of them will be able to keep their meds down without something to eat, so he picks through the refrigerator until he comes up with fruit and yogurt as his best solution.

“Really?” Narancia asks, wrinkling his nose, “Why?”

“Ask Bruno,” Abbacchio says, dismissive. He’s really not in the mood to talk to people that aren’t currently snoozing in his bed.

“You’re not much fun in the morning.”

“Am I ever?”

“Touché.”

Abbacchio snorts. He should be offended, but he knows the kid is being a smartass. It’s his own fault for setting himself up. “Why don’t you go bother Fugo? I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you study.”

“Have you ever tried waking Fugo up?”

“No, can’t say that I have.” That’s always been Bruno’s job, assuming that Fugo hadn’t already woken up on his own.

“It’s too early to get stabbed.”

“Touché.”

They go back and forth for a while longer. At least until Abbacchio’s patience runs out, and he’s finished putting breakfast together. He dismisses himself with little warning and doesn’t feel the least bit guilty when the kid looks a little startled by the abruptness of his departure. He has things to get done for the day, and those things don’t necessarily include being part of Narancia’s obvious effort to procrastinate.

“Bruno,” Abbacchio calls when he steps back into their room after Moody opens the door for him. “Your five minutes are up.”

“Five more?” Bruno asks, voice muffled. His head is barely visible with only a tuft of hair sticking out from a pile of blankets. It’s cute, and Abbacchio is a complete sucker for giving in.

“Last one, tesoro,” Abbacchio warns as he sets Bruno’s cup and food down on the bedside table.

There’s a muffled reply that might be a quiet thanks, though it’s almost impossible to tell with the way Bruno pulls the blankets even tighter around himself.

Abbacchio rummages through the drawer of his nightstand until he finds what he’s looking for before taking up a spot at the end of the bed with his food and drink in hand. He sips at the decaf slowly, wrinkling his nose at the first taste. God, he misses caffeine. As expected, he doesn’t feel much better about his first bite of homemade parfait (and he can almost hear Polnareff’s protest at his calling it that). The rest goes down about the same, but the motion is mechanical at that point. One bite after the other with the occasional sip from his mug to wash it all down until everything is gone.

Abbacchio sets the dishes on the floor and reaches for the pill organizer sitting on the bed beside him. He absently runs his fingers over the lid, where small bones have been set in resin. He can still remember the first time he saw it. The black shine had caught his eye first, but, on closer examination, the thing that had convinced him to buy the organizer had been the mouse bones, delicately placed and striking against the background.

What he hadn’t realized then is that the little organizer would a significant adjustment to his daily routine. Having a week’s worth of medication in one place, already sectioned in dosed amounts, had significantly increased his medication compliance. Oddly enough, it’s had a rather hefty impact on his overall mental health. Now, when anti-inflammatories and bronchodilators and steroids are part of his daily regiment as much as his SSRI’s, it’s even more vital for him to consistently get his meds in. Otherwise, the consequences tend to be pneumonia and an unwanted hospital trip with a round of antibiotics and even stronger steroids. And that’s to say nothing of what happens when he’s running low on serotonin.

He’s caught up in his own thoughts when Bruno hooks his chin over his shoulder and peers down at the little organizer.

“I never did ask you if those are real,” Bruno muses quietly.

“I thought you were taking five more.”

“‘m awake,” Bruno answers, clearly half-asleep.

Abbacchio huffs a soft, amused laugh. He turns his head to press a kiss to the side of Bruno’s nose. “Sure you are, amore.”

“I am.”

“M’hm,” Abbacchio smiles, reflecting the expression on Bruno’s face, though his is notably less sleep-depressed. Bruno looks a lot like a light gust of wind might knock him out, and it’s so damn endearing that Abbacchio can barely handle it. Instead, he looks back down at the pill organizer and answers Bruno’s earlier question, “They are. Real, I mean.”

“They’re lovely,” Bruno says, and he means it. Odd as some might find Abbacchio’s taste, Bruno has always found beauty in it. “Perhaps I should get one.”

“Might be a good idea.” It would be easier to see if Bruno ever missed a dose, and it would certainly be easier to avoid that disaster all together. “There are other options. You could go with something—oceanic, maybe?”

Bruno hums at the thought. “I think I’d like that.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” by which Abbacchio means that he’ll actively go looking for one. Anything to make Bruno’s life a touch easier.

“Oh, you brought breakfast,” Bruno says, moving away from Abbacchio to peer curiously at the morning’s offerings. “You’re entirely too kind.”

Abbacchio huffs a laugh at that, “For all that you’ve done for us? Hardly.” He pops open the side hatch of his organizer and dumps the day’s pills into his hand. Abbacchio pulls a face at the number of them and looks down at his mug. Right, he had meant to save a sip.

“Here,” Bruno offers his own with a smile. “We’ll get more in a bit.”

“If you’re sure...” Abbacchio could always go get his own, but he has a feeling that doing so will result in more small talk, and he’s not quite up for that yet.

“I am,” Bruno reassures him before taking up the bowl of yogurt and fruit in absence of his coffee. “Just leave enough for me to take mine.”

[asterroidd]

the double life of a feline

↬ Modern AU

↬ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

↬ Word Count: 1.4k

↬ Warning/s: Swearing, horrible pun

↬ Synopsis: Little did you know that your cat has an ongoing affair behind your back.

    In recent weeks, you have noticed that your tuxedo cat had become chubbier, which made you skeptical. You were a hundred percent sure that you have been feeding it the appropriate amount of cat food. Nothing more, nothing less. Suppose he had been hunting wild birds, which could explain the decline in population of local birds in your neighborhood. It might be, since your cat was once a stray, and even domestic cats nowadays are known to occasionally hunt in the night. They are natural-born hunters after all.

     But it doesn’t erase the fact that your cat’s fur would sometimes smell like black tea. Which was odd since you don’t drink the mentioned beverage. You prefer coffee since it provides your daily need of caffeine. There were also instances where his fur is properly groomed, no knots to be found, and his nails are perfectly trimmed. Could it be that your cat has been living a double life?

     Currently, your furry friend is beside you, with its back against the soft coverings of your couch. It was clear that he is having the best time in his world. With its day consisting of sleeping, eating, grooming, and sleeping once again. You could hear its faint purring, a sign that he is content and comfortable in your presence.

     “Sir Meowsalaut. . .” you trailed off, gazing at your cat. “Have you been cheating on me?”

     The cat opened its eyes lazily, briefly gazing at you before yawing and stretching its paws. It gave you a soft ‘meow’ before dozing back to sleep. You pouted, you expected better things from him. Sir Meowsalaut was a former stray cat, one that you adopted when you found him lying on the street heavily injured after being in a fight with some other cats in the area. He was bone-thin and covered with fleas, but still have fire inside him. You did not think twice in bringing him to the nearest veterinary clinic, fully dedicating yourself to this one feline. You could not just ignore him and watch the cat die, alone and cold.

     “I work my ass off for you, the least you could do is stay loyal,” you murmured, in which your words fell on deaf ears. As much as you wanted to scold the lazy feline for its suspected infidelity, your work shift is nearing. Sighing, you pushed yourself off the couch to prepare. You dreaded your part time job as a waitress in a nearby coffee shop. Life as a college student is hard, especially if one is drowned in endless amount of debt and student loans. Nonetheless, you forced yourself to wear the uniform—a simple cream-colored buttoned-up blouse paired with brown knee-length skirt and red scarf to be tied around your neck—which thankfully is comfortable to wear. Trudging around your apartment, Sir Meowsalaut watched you. The tuxedo cat bored out of its mind and itching to explore outside. A young tomcat much like himself has urges after all.

      “Don’t be a pesky kitty!” you called out before leaving Sir Meowsalaut alone in your apartment. Unbeknownst to you, your balcony door was left slightly ajar.

     An opportunity was given and Sir Meowsalaut was not going to let it slide. The feline rose from his resting position, stretching his paws for a few seconds. His green orbs scanning the room he grew accustomed off the past few months. While, indeed, he loved you dearly (mainly since you provide his daily meals), the tuxedo cat yearned for adventure. He hopped off the couch, taking his time in walking towards the balcony door.

    Due to your stupidity, it was left wide enough for him to slip past through, and sure he did. Though, he had minor difficulty given that his body expanded due to an increased intake of food. The feline jumped on the small shelf where your potted plants reside it, rattling a few off. Sir Meowsalaut did not care though, all he wanted was to visit his other friend in the apartment beside yours.

    The cat prepared itself for the jump, eyes focused and limbs crouching down. Then, it pushed itself off the ground, gracefully landing on the other side. Sir Meowsalaut blinked, peering inside the glass door. His tail curved at the tip as he saw his friend. The feline then pawed at the door, its nails eliciting a screeching sound against the glass. And to his delight, his friend noticed him. Sir Meowsalaut waited patiently as the figure approached him.

    “Oh, you again?” the male spoke out whilst opening the door to let the cat inside, Sir Meowsalaut making sure to brush its cheek against his legs. The mischievous cat was sure going to take his sweet time in this male’s apartment.

     The sun was already gone by the time your shift had ended. It was a slow day, thankfully. A few customers here and there would walk in to order a beverage or two. While your co-workers chatted with one another, you made use of the time by cleaning the café, hopefully your boss would notice your actions and would give you a pay raise.

     Your thoughts would always circle back to your cat, concerned about his ever increasing body weight. It could be hypothyroidism, which (as you have researched) could sometimes cause a feline’s obesity. However, your co-worker did suggest that it could just be a lack of exercise. Which made sense since Sir Meowsalaut had been doing nothing but dozing off in your apartment. You tried enticing him to play with mouse toys but he paid no interest to it. Perhaps an exercise wheel? You made a mental note to check online shops. For your dear catto, you are willing to spend every last drop of money to satisfy him.

     A sigh escaped your lips as the familiar building of your apartment drew near. Finally. A well-deserved rest. Though, something caught your eye. A mix of black and white fur, sleeping peacefully on top of the windowsill. Its body pressed against the glass pane. It was then you realized that it was Sir Meowsalaut himself. Your heart swelled at the idea that your beloved cat was waiting for you.

    Until it hit you.

    Sir Meowsalaut was inside a different apartment. In fact, it was the one next to yours.

    “What—” you blinked. How in the world did that fat cat escaped. Then it dawned on you, your balcony door slightly opened. You knew it! Sir Meowsalaut was indeed cheating on you! With a neighbor nonetheless!

    Storming, you quickly rushed inside the building to inform your neighbor of your cat’s malicious activities. You knocked on the door precisely three times, then waited patiently.

    “What do you want?” the door was pulled open to reveal a young man (suppose in his mid 20’s) looking at you with an annoyed expression. He had straight black hair, which was styled in an undercut curtain. You took notice the dark circles forming under his narrow gray eyes. The male raised a brow, waiting for you to speak out.

    “So uhm. . . look. I am your next-door neighbor and this may seem weird but I saw my cat in your window earlier and I think he might be cheating on me with you. I am sorry for the inconvenience but can I please have him back,” you rambled.

   The male blinked at you, processing your words. “Your cat cheated on you. . ?”

  You nodded.

   He seemed to glance back at the cat, before looking at you once more. “Make sure to keep an eye on him next time.” The male opened the door wide enough to let you inside his apartment.

   “Sir Meowsalaut you cheater! How could you do this to me!” you exclaimed once close enough to the feline. The cat yawned, then looked at you with bored eyes, its tail swaying slowly.

    “You call the cat ‘Sir Meowsalaut’?” the male questioned.

    You blinked. “Yeah. . .?”

    “That’s a shitty name.”

    You took great offense to that. “Hey! It’s a nice pun!”

    The male ignored your protest, preparing himself a cup of black tea. “Just hurry up and take the fat cat.”

    Pursing your lips, you picked up Sir Meowsalaut with all your might, he did gained weight after all. His chonky body pressed against yours. “Say. . . I didn’t catch your name,” you uttered.

     Your neighbor took a sip from his cup (in which he held in an odd way) before answering. “Levi.”

     “If you want, Levi. I could maybe treat you to brunch at some point? To make up for feeding this guy,” you suggested, pointing to Sir Meowsalaut.

    “Fine by me,” he replied.

    You beamed at him, before stepping out of his apartment. Perhaps you could forgive your cat and his infidelity, since you got a date with a cute guy next door.

      Sir Meowsalaut would 10/10 cheat again.

[6rookie-writer0110]

Yahtzee is a stupid game

Maura Isles x Reader

Summary - Maura and R celebrate their first Valentine but it doesn't go as plan.

Maura noticed on her calendar that Valentine's Day is coming up in a few days. It will be her first Valentine with you, she wants to make it special. She starts to think about how to make it special for you. Jane walked into the morgue and noticed Maura is distracted.

“Maura? Can you hear me? Hello...” Jane said and waved her hand.

“Sorry, did you said something?” Maura said.

“What is going on in your mind?” Jane asked.

“Since you know, I'm dating y/n it's our first Valentine's day together. I don't know what to do and I want to surprise them” Maura said.

“Cute. Valentine's day is dumb” Jane said.

“There are interesting facts about Valentine's Day,” Maura said.

You walked into the morgue.

“I’m not surprised you know strange facts about Valentine's Day,” You said.

Jane greeted you and Maura kissed you on the lips.

“Did you know far back as the 6th century B.C. February 13 to 15, During the festival Romans, celebrated the feast of Lupercalia. They will use the blood-soaked hides to slap women on the streets, as a fertility blessing. According to legend, women would later put their names in an urn and be selected to be paired with a man for a year” Maura said.

“How romantic” Jane teased.

“Oh... Strange fact but kinda interesting” You said.

Maura smiled.

“Y/N are you free on Valentine's day?” Jane asked.

“You do know I'm dating your friend,” You said.

“Shhh! I don't want her to know I'm in love with you. Kiss me, Y/N” Jane joked.

Jane grabbed you and pretend to kiss you.

“What’s wrong with Jane?” You laughed.

“Too much caffeine today. She had her fifth cup today” Maura said.

Jane’s phone started to ring.

“I have to go. Y/N I will call you later” Jane said and winked at you.

She smacked your ass and left. You and Maura laughed.

She wrapped her arms around you and you wrap your arms around her waist.

“Dinner at my place for Valentine's day?” Maura asked.

“Sounds like a good idea,” You said.

You kissed her and she kisses you back.

----

You had a short lunch with your girlfriend Maura. She knows it will be your first Valentine's day and she wants to make it special for you. Maura did buy you gifts and she hopes that you will like them. You had a hard time choosing a gift for Maura. Now that you know, she wants to celebrate Valentine's Day. You know what she likes and doesn't like, but you want to find the perfect gift for her and hope she won't hate it.

Maura has thought to cook for dinner. She is feeling excited to celebrate Valentine's day with you. She told Jane and Angela what is her plan, Maura can't stop smiling.

✬ ✯ ✬ ✯

The night of Valentine's Day...

Maura is in the kitchen prepping the food. She looks at the time and she ran to the bedroom, she looks for the perfect dress. She changes clothes, she puts on a dark red dress. She starts to fix her hair and makeup then she puts on perfume. She knows it's your favorite.

You are running late. It took you a while to figure out what you wanted to wear. And you forgot to wrap the gift for Maura. Now you are 45 minutes late.

“Maura, I am so sorry I'm late. The Uber didn't arrive on time, it took me a while to figure out what to wear. And I forgot to gift wrap your gift, and traffic was horrible. There was an accident. Babe, I'm so sorry I'm late, please for me” You pout.

She places her hand on your cheek.

“I’m not angry, now knowing what happened. Babe, you look great. I will reheat the food” Maura said

“You look beautiful just wow” You smiled.

Maura smiled and you kiss her. She wraps her arms around you and she doesn't stop kissing you.

----

Maura starts to reheat the food. You smiled at her and the food smells good to you. She put the food on the table and she drinks her wine.

“Babe the food looks great. Where did you learn to cook this?” You said.

“I took a cooking class and it was fun. Maybe we can take a cooking class together if you don't want to its fine we can do something else together” Maura said.

“I would take cooking lessons with you. I always wanted to take one of those cooking lessons, yeah we can do it” You said.

“Good to know. Let me know what you think of the food” Maura said.

You nod. Maura starts to eat her food then you try the food. Your body starts to feel strange and you're starting to have trouble breathing.

“Is this fish?” You asked.

“Yes, I put-”

“I’m allergic to fish!” You yelled.

You got up from the chair then you fell to the ground. Maura ran to your side, you are barely breathing

“Where’s your EpiPen!?” Maura yelled.

You tried to speak but couldn't. Maura called 911 and they rushed you to the hospital.

----

Maura walked into the room with get well balloons and a teddy bear. She thought it would cheer you up.

“How are you feeling?” Maura asked.

You can tell she was crying and she is feeling sad.

“I’m feeling better. I rushed out of my apartment and I forgot my EpiPen” You said.

“Why you didn't tell me you allergic to fish,” Maura said.

“I did send you a text. Remember, I sent you the text last night when you talked about your favorite foreign film” You said.

Maura checks her phone and she didn't read the text and she remembers why.

“I didn't read it. I must have not heard the ring I was working on a case. Y/N, I'm so sorry I feel bad our first Valentine date went horrible” Maura said sadly.

You grabbed her hand.

“I’m not mad. But please no more fish. I forgive you, you can eat jello with me it's cherry and sugar-free” You said.

Maura couldn't help to smile.

“I do like cherry jello,” Maura said.

She kissed your forehead and you smiled at her. You spend the night in the hospital and Maura didn't leave your side all night. You and Maura watch a random show on tv.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙5

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Sorry there’s no Eye of the Storm for today. I’m currently going through physical and emotional hell but I hope you don’t mind some Andy Barber.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You went to bed angry. You were always warned against it and you always learned your lessons the hard way. Hence, your current predicament and that stabbing just above your eye brow.

You got up slowly. You groaned and grumbled as you forced yourself to your feet. It was early and you had a shift at the diner. You never thought you'd be eager to be in your greasy apron but it was better than the alternative.

The night before, you'd spent a few minutes looking around the bedroom. There was an attached bathroom and you were thankful for that as you'd awoke once to relieve yourself before stumbling back to bed. 

You pushed through the half-open door and pulled your night shirt over your head. You stretched and reached to start the shower. There was a hand towel hanging from the ring above the sink but nothing else. You went to the closet but upon opening the door, you were surprised to find another bedroom on the other side. 

You swore and slammed the door before Andy could look up from his tie. You searched the handle for a lock and clicked it into place. God damn it! What kind of house was set up like that?

You heard his bedroom door in the hall and he knocked on your own. You scrambled to pick up your night gown and pull it back on as the hinges whispered and he appeared at the bathroom door. He looked confused as he crossed his arms.

"What was all that about?" He asked.

"I needed a towel," You huffed. "And I thought it was... a closet."

"Ah, linen closet's right next to my room." He explained. "I never really liked the layout but Laurie... I'll get you a towel."

You nodded and he left you. He returned with a dark blue towel and offered it to you. You took it and he reluctantly let it go. His gaze never left you; sombre and serious.

"Did you decide?" He asked.

"I'll tell Saul today," You said. "Is that acceptable?"

He sighed and sniffed.

"Call me." He said. "Doesn't matter when, I'll pick up. You let me know when your next appointment is."

"Okay," You resigned. "So, can I shower or...?"

"I gotta head out," He tucked his hand in his pants pocket. "I'll leave your breakfast on the counter."

"I can take care of myself." You insisted.

"Yeah, you keep saying that," He gave a sarcastic smirk. "What time are you done?"

"Seven," You answered dully. "I'll be home before curfew, dad."

He rolled his eyes and backed away.

"Well, won't be long till I am," He countered. "Isn't that right, mommy?"

He left you, the door closing with a snap. You listened as he went back to his own room and left shortly after, his footsteps fading down the stairs.

You set the towel down on the toilet lid and felt the warmth of the shower’s spray with your fingertips. You'd thought living with your mom was hard. Now you almost missed it.

🌙

You felt like you had a secret victory. While you'd given up the job that had seen you through the last decade, your job at the cafe was starting to look more promising. Many of your co-workers were college students and handed off shifts quite often. 

By the time you left the diner, dispirited as you were after the last few days' events, you had picked up two half-shifts for the next week. Another and you'd have more than thirty hours away from Andy and his suburban prison.

It was short-won as you found a bitterly familiar car waiting by the curb as you walked out of work. Andy sat in the front seat, his hand leaned against the steering wheel as he squinted at the glowing screen of his phone. You were tempted to ignore him and catch the bus instead but you didn't want another night of arguing. You just wanted to be home. You could hide in the guest room and try to forget. Well, as much as you could.

You knocked on the window and he looked over. He gave you his usual disapproving look and unlocked the doors with the flip of a switch. He tucked his phone away and turned the engine as you climbed in.

"I messaged." He said as he peered out into traffic. "Why didn't you answer?"

"I haven't checked my phone," You frowned. "Sorry."

"I told you to call me." He pulled out and his knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the wheel. "You make your appointment?"

"Monday," You muttered. Only three days away. "Ten thirty."

"I can make it work," He said. "You wanna grab some dinner? It's a bit late to cook."

"You gonna spoon feed again?" You challenged.

"Only if you make me," He said. "I want a copy of your schedule. Every week. I need to know when you're working and not."

"You're not serious?" You scoffed.

"I think I have a right to know. And look, we're having a kid and we should learn to get along before it gets here." He glanced at you in the rearview. "It wasn't so hard that night in the bar."

"Andy, forget that night," You breathed. 

"I can't." His voice was low, dusky. "Even if... if I hadn't run into you again, I'd still be thinking about it."

"Don't do this," You begged.

"I love-- Loved my wife," He continued. "But it was never like that. Never that--"

"Stop," You interrupted. "Andy, I get it, well, I can't really understand what you're going through but you're grieving your family. It's confusing, scary, but you can't expect me to fill that hole. It was a one night stand. As far as I know those are suppose to end the morning after, at latest."

He was silent as he pulled into the drive through of a local burger joint. You'd been to the place once, they had great potato wedges but charged a bit much for limited portions. He stopped at the speaker and turned to you.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"Chicken burger, extra mayo, side of wedges," You craned to read the menu around him. "And an iced tea?"

"That's a lot of sugar. You should have a water for now and I have some stuff at home."

"Why did you even-- fine," You relented. "Water is fine."

Andy ordered and idled between the windows as he waited for the food. When it was his turn at last, he drew up and paid. He took the paper bag and the tray of drinks and handed it to you. He tipped, well, and thanked the server before pulling away.

"You don't understand. You're right." He said stiffly. "You can't but you can at least try. A baby... do you know what that means to me? Especially now, after everything. I never really put much faith in God but it feels like... a sign."

You lowered your head and shifted the paper bag on your leg as its warmth seeped through your pants. You felt bad. You were so concerned with what you were going to do, you hadn't really thought about him or his feelings. Sure, he was bossy, angry, but could you blame him? After a tragedy so uncontrollable how could you not be desperate for an ounce of control?

"Thank you," You said quietly. "For buying me dinner. For... letting me stay with you."

"You don't have to thank me for that. Decent people do those things." He stared at the road grimly. "I'm... sorry I've been so angry."

"It's alright. I haven't really been easy to deal with." You chuckled darkly. "I'd blame the hormones but I think it's just me."

"No, it's not," He turned down his street. "I'll be home late tomorrow night. There's lots of food in the fridge. You working?"

"Closing." You answered. "I'll be late too."

He nodded as he pulled into his driveway.

"Alright," He killed the engine. "I still want that schedule. It'll make things a lot easier."

You wanted to slap yourself. He came around as you managed to open your door and took the bag from you as he left you the tray of drinks. You followed him to the door, shaking your head at your own idiocy. He might be decent but it didn't make him any less overbearing.

🌙

Your days continued on a tightrope. You did your best to balance between Andy's irritability and your own misery. He might have apologized but there was something about the man that just kept you on edge.

And it was difficult to adjust to living with a man that was barely more than a strangers. To live in the shell of his former life. Even when you were alone, you stayed in the guest room, kept to yourself. It felt wrong to be there.

When Monday came, you woke to ready for your appointment. You dressed and went downstairs to find Andy awake and put together as always. The smell of his coffee made your mouth water.

"Any left in the pot?" You asked.

He shook his head as he blew the steam away from the rim.

"You can't have coffee. Too much caffeine." He said. "I'll buy you some decaf if you want. There's a gourmet place in the market."

"Don't worry about it," You grumbled. "I'll just have some orange juice."

"And some fruit, toast, yogurt..." He began as he set his mug down. "You should start writing down your meals. Keep track. You don't want to undereat." He opened the fridge and pulled out a basket of blueberries and a tub of yogurt. "We should also look into some supplements for you. Iron, probably." 

He grabbed a bowl and measured out the yogurt and then rinsed some berries to go on top. He slid the bowl across the island and put everything back in the fridge. He grabbed the loaf from the breadbox and shoved two slices in the toaster.

"They should be able to let us know what after today," He continued. "I was reading up. They're gonna take some blood, probably some urine, and you might even have an ultrasound."

"Reading?" You narrowed your eyes. "Did you do all this with... before?"

He pressed his lips together and cracked his neck.

"I was younger then. Naive," He said. "Nine months is a long time. A lot can go wrong."

You were quiet. You scooped yogurt into your mouth and tried not to scowl. You didn't need to walk into the doctor's in a mood. The whole thing was stressful enough.

He finished making your toast and offered you peanut butter. You took butter and accepted the dry dark rye. He tapped his fingers on the counter and reached for a book on the end. He slid it over and flipped it open just as you read the title; 'What to Expect When You're Expecting'. You wanted to laugh. You chewed instead.

"That's your research?" You asked.

"You should read it," He said without looking up, crossing his arms atop the counter as he bent over it. "You'd learn a lot."

"Oh yeah?" You swallowed. "I'll see if I can fit it on my reading list."

"Huh," He looked up at last. "I saw that you had quite a few hours next week. Thirty-three."

"You said I couldn't work two jobs," You shrugged. "So I have one."

"I thought we were getting somewhere," He stood straight. "I really did."

"What else am I supposed to do? I can't just sit around and wait for the baby."

"You can," He snapped and rubbed his beard, feeling the bristle of his beard. "Jesus, I just-- I'm trying to do what's right."

"For you? Me? The baby?" You wondered.

"For us," He said pointedly. 

"Us?" You echoed and set down the last crust. "What do you think is going to happen when the baby is here?"

His brows crinkled and took a breath.

"Well, I hope to have the nursery set up by then. Some clothes ready. No surprises, we'll need to know the sex so that we're ready." He slowly smiled as he spoke. "And maybe a pump for you, just in case. And I can take some days off to help out. It can be exhausting--"

"Andy!" You spat. "Andy, do you think-- do you think I'm going to stay here... forever?"

"You gonna pop this thing out and just go?" He asked. 

"I never said I'd stay. Why would I--?"

"Because we're gonna be parents. Together." He hissed. "Because I won't have my child bouncing back and forth like volleyball."

"I'm not doing that." You said. "No, I'm not--" You stood and rounded the counter. "I'll find my own way to the appointment. There's no reason you need to be there."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa" He stepped in front of you and blocked you. "I wasn't asking."

"You can't make me--"

"I can do whatever I want," His voice grew deeper as he backed you against the island. "I can tell the police you abandoned your child. I can sue you for support. I can have you arrested for neglect."

"Prove it," You snarled.

"Won't be hard. I got buddies in the PD. I don't even have to plant the evidence," He smirked. "I just gotta give them the go ahead."

"No," You tried to push past him and he grabbed your sides, pushing you back against the counter.

"Let me tell you something, sweetheart," He leaned in to whispered in your ear. "You're gonna do a lot of things you think you don't wanna do." 

His hand slipped to your hip and you caught his wrist, grasping his chunky watched. He stood straight and looked down at you nonchalantly. 

"You're right," He wrenched his arm away and looked at his watch. "We're gonna be late."

[the-silentium]

Evolution

Masterlist

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Android!Reader

Words: 7372 words

Warnings: TUA season 1, swearing, mention of blood.

Requested by: Anon

Could you do a Five Hargreeves x reader where Y/N is an AI and is held hostage by the commission. Y/N is best “friends” with Five and Five saves them and they kiss. Thx

A/N: Oups? Remember I said 3000 more words? Well, it was more like 5000. But hey! I had so much fun writing it! When I saw AI!Reader, I immediately thought about Detroit Become Human and how perfectly an Android would fit with Five! 

Commission headquarter

June 16th, 1955

PM 13:45:07

You were currently working peacefully at your desk, a manila folder opened between your hands presenting you the details of your next assignment. You analyzed the facts and probabilities of every possible scenario, every possible victim whose death would be the least suspicious but would cause the optimal result. While Herb got up from his desk to greet the lady in the doorway, your programs ran hundreds of possibilities and found the best option for your case. 

With acute precision, your fingers typed the name of a Starbucks barista whose absence at his usual evening shift would enrage his manager who would throw a fit in front of his customers, triggering an extreme reaction out of a young man whose antipsychotic prescription hasn’t been renewed in time for him to take his dose as advised. Said young man would, in a desperate attempt to defend himself from a non-existent threat, take a pocket-knife out of his too-large hoodie and stab the brunette next to him who looked too much like his abusive father 27 times before hurrying off into the crowded streets, leaving the man whose after-work activities was to develop a - successful- new technology allowing people to travel through space in a matter of seconds, bleed to death on the dirty floor of a too popular coffee shop. 

TERMINATE EVERETT BLAKE FOR IMMEDIATE EXTRACTION.

There, the timeline was preserved and your task was done. You put the new piece of typed paper on the growing pile at the corner of your desk before grabbing another folded, ready to start the process again. Just as your eyes finished scanning the first line, Herb called your Commission given name, causing you to look up in wonder. 

“Ivy! Your presence has been requested by the Handler.” His hands joined in front of him, a futile attempt at hiding his discomfort. He wasn’t the first one who you noticed to be intimidated by the woman of power. Your behavior analysis of the woman told you that she was a manipulative woman with a need for power, who would stop at nothing to assure that she was at the very top of the food chain. You could easily understand why everyone you ever met in these walls showed signs of stress or even fear at the simple mention of her title. 

//MEET WITH THE HANDLER

You nodded as the new orders registered into your programming and took the terminating orders to give them to your superior. 

“Could you kindly give these to Gloria while I meet the Handler?” You asked with your signature smile. You knew that despite your coding forcing you to be polite with everyone, you would always smile to that man. He has always been friendly and caring towards you whilst others loved to persecute you every chance they got. 

“Oh! Sure.” He took the pile from your hands, careful to not drop them in the process. “You really are efficient.” His awe at the 64 cards present in his hands clearly showed on his face. 

You smiled once more, the compliment warming something inside you, causing the circular led on your temple to flash yellow for a quick second before returning to its usual calm blue. You had lost enough time as it was, so you quickly made your way to the vast office and knocked softly at the door the second you reached them.

You opened the door and made your way inside at the muffled invitation to come in. The colorful woman sitting at her own desk pointed you a seat next to a white-haired man in a dark suit. You couldn’t help but make a quick analysis of the new man, scanning his face and searching for his file in the Commission’s database. Well, more like your database, seeing as the Commission liked to keep everything on paper so you had to scan every file yourself to keep track of everything and everyone. 

Number Five. 

53 years old.

Born on October 1st, 1989.

Enhanced field agent.

Abilities: Teleportation, time-travelling. 

Number Five was found in the apocalyptic world caused by 2019’s meteor shower. His unequaled competence in his line of work makes him a priceless asset to the Commission. 

Just as you lowered yourself into your seat, the Handler pointed from the man to you multiple times. “Number Five, this is Ivy. Ivy, Number Five. You two are assigned to work together on this next assignment.” She slowly pushed a white folder at the edge of the desk. 

“I don’t need a partner.” You turned to meet the eyes of the man whose annoyance didn’t need an elaborated analysis to be understood. His eyes moved curiously over your attire, memorizing every particularity of it. He noted how futuristic you looked in your two-tone dark dress that reached your mid-tight, your half white and black jacket, and the slightly glowing blue band around your right upper arm. He quickly noticed numbers on the right part of your jacket, like a weird name tag imprinted into the fabric and the word Android at the back. 

Back to you, you notice the lack of stress behavior that you were used to seeing on people gravitating around the Handler. The man was relaxed, his hands were still, his eyes were bored minus the moment where curiosity took hold of him when his eyes moved over your form, his cortisol level was normal, and his heart rate within the average for a man his age. 

“So does she. Don’t take it personally, Five, but for this mission, you will need her analyzing skills.” She turned to you, her smile dropping slightly. “Everything you need is in the folder. You can wait outside.” 

You made your way to the desk after nodding once. The folder was a bit thicker than what you were usually given, but it wasn't a problem. You carefully closed the door, the usual nagging feeling of eyes following your every movement making you tighten your grip onto the folder. You leaned on the wall opposite the door, waiting for your new partner to come out.��

//WAIT FOR NUMBER FIVE

You couldn't help but raise the sensitivity of your hearing. Your new partner was a total mystery and learning a bit more about him before the beginning of this mission would be of great help. 

“What the hell is she?”

“An android! An artificial intelligence if you will. Can you believe it? A machine looking perfectly like a human made to serve humans!”

“You mean a slave.” Something inside you cringed at the word, but you chose to ignore it, for this wasn't relevant to your personal mission of getting to know your partner. 

“Machines don’t have will Number Five, they are made to obey.” 

You frowned as some muttering reached your ears, the words totally incomprehensible even with your enhanced senses. Footsteps resonated into the room, you opened the file and started reading the first lines just as the door opened on a frustrated man. 

“Oh and please Five, take care of her. I went to great lengths to get one of her models and we don’t have anything to repair her in this timeline.”

Five had the audacity to close the door pretty harshly, the sound echoing through the whole floor and almost causing you to short circuit at the explosion resonating in your head. Quickly, you turned down your hearing to an average level and followed the agent who was walking away, determination in his steps. 

//FOLLOW NUMBER FIVE

You walked after him, left and right, before finally reaching what you recognized as a kitchen. Being an Android, you never had to come here before even if the lovely Dot had more than once asked you to join her for lunch. Number Five stopped before a coffee machine quickly grabbed a cup from one of the shelves and poured himself some of the dark liquid.

“A too high consumption of caffeine will someday cause you health problems such as anxiety, insomnia, high blood pressure and some digestive issues among other things. Seeing as the caffeine level in your bloodstream is already high, I would suggest that you consider drinking Matcha tea or lemon water instead.” 

The white-haired agent slowly turned to you while taking a long sip. The blank stare you received from over the rim of the cup didn’t phase you in the slightest, you were used to worse after all. 

“Is that all you can do? Give me shitty advice on my coffee addiction?” You deciphered a slight annoyance behind his words, so you tried to correct your shot.

“No, of course not. My model was designed to assess even the most precarious situations and find ways to achieve my superiors’ goals with a 100% success rate even if the probabilities are minimal. Here, I am mainly used to form strategies behind a desk, but I also have the programming of my fellow model RK800 which allows me to be on the field and be just as efficient.”

Number Five’s expression was hard to read, to say the least. His straight face was so flawless that even your advanced behavioral analysis program couldn’t decrypt his feelings. He continued to stare at you while drinking his dark drink, his thoughts running a mile an hour. After a minute, he nodded once, put the empty cup into the sink and walked away. 

Once again, you followed his every step, walking deeper into the maze that was the Commission’s headquarters. In the two years you passed under their service, you never really took the time to explore the complex. You were totally fine with your simple routine consisting of two simple tasks: working and resting at your charger station situated in a small storage room. It wasn’t what you were used to back at CyberLife, but this was your new reality so you went with it. 

Your new partner stopped before a brightly lit room, shelves full of clothes adorned the walls, display stands just as packed of the colorful fabrics took the majority of the room. A hand on the small of your back slowly pushed you inside, his own feet following after you. 

“If you’re going on the field, you’ll need a change of clothes.” He simply said, eyeing the base of your dress. 

You nodded, your gaze wandered on the displayed clothes. You went for what was the most practical in the field, some dark leggings with a pair of high boots that had the smallest heels you could find. You definitely would have preferred some sort of shoes that would be a better fit for running, but apparently this wasn’t a possibility. Then you grabbed a long-sleeved white shirt that looked comfortable enough before making your way to the changing rooms. 

Satisfied with your new attire, you made your way back to Number Five, your usual clothes in hand.

“Can you turn this off?” He asked, gesturing to the blue circle on your right temple. You shook your head from side to side, his lips forming a tight line before going to get something at the back of the room. He came back with a beanie in hand. “Put this on.” He said as he gave you the accessory and turned around to exit the room. 

You quickly put the hat on the best you could with only one hand and hurried after him. 

The whole mission went on without a hitch. You completed your goal alongside Number Five, who started insisting that you called him only Five, and returned at your office under Herb’s care. 

You missed the thrill you felt while being on the field with Five. It hasn’t always been easy, but with time you knew you had found a friend into the 58 years-old man. At first, you had a habit of telling him facts that he didn’t care about much like the coffee one, but you soon realized that it only made him roll his eyes in annoyance so you stopped rambling altogether. 

He had asked you questions about your origins and about yourself. His genuine interest made something move inside you, something new. During the whole 6 days mission, you had run a grand total of 17 self-diagnosis of your system that all came back negative. The instability of your software was slightly rising whenever the male praised your work or complimented your skills. 

It was time for lunch, your human colleagues exited the room talking between them, their excited discussions about what to eat filled the room before fading as they made their way to the kitchen. Once again, you found yourself alone surrounded by empty tables and utter silence. You were about to grab another file, ready to work through the hour break, when a forced cough caught your attention. 

You smiled at the sight, your newest friend leaning in the doorway, a white box in hand. 

“Wanna join me for lunch?” It always confused you why the man took the utmost care of asking if you wanted something instead of just ordering you to. 

“I am a machine, what I want is not important.” You repeated for the 37th time, causing his eyes to roll in a dismissive manner for the 37th time. 

“For me it is.” You tilted your head at his dead-serious tone. “I told you. I’ll never order you to do anything.” 

//Software instability ↑

You were grateful that he chose to never force you to do anything. Why? You had no idea.

You pondered for a bit. Do you want it? The thought wasn’t unpleasant that was for sure, moreover, your actual goal wouldn’t be affected by an hour off with your friend. You made up your mind, nodding excitedly as you mirrored the genuine smile plastered on his face. You walked alongside him towards the crowded cafeteria where you found an available table in a corner. Five pulled your chair for you before sitting right in front of you.

“Back in your dress and jacket? Don’t you have any other clothes?” He asked fork in hand, ready to dig into his lasagna. 

“My Android outfit is mandatory by the American Androids Act. It allows people to clearly identify me as an Android and not a human.” You heard the man mutter something about a stupid law before your gaze wandered around when the weight of eyes judging your presence became too much to ignore.

In your peripheral, you could see Five turn around and shoot the snoopers with his murderous glare, successfully making them squirm onto their seats and look elsewhere. 

“I am sorry if being around me is a bother.” Five shook his head at your statement, resuming eating. 

“You don’t have to be sorry. Mankind is the most idiotic species of this planet, we can’t help but target what we don’t understand.” 

You frowned at his words, finding flaws. “But you are human, Number Five, and you are far from being an idiot.”

The man chuckled at your apparent confusion. “Well, for one, thank you. I dare say that I am an exception in this world full of idiots and if I remember right, which I know I do-” You chuckled at his arrogance.”-I told you to call me Five.”

“Fine, Five.” You put emphasis on his name, to which he smiled and nodded in contentment. “You also said that humans target what they don’t understand, yet you never targeted me in any way.” 

“Maybe it’s my years passed in the apocalypse that are talking, but I enjoy the company of people that…” He trailed off, his gaze getting lost somewhere over your shoulder. You could see the emotion washing over him, the grief of his loss still hurting his heart. “-are not totally human.” 

He had told you about his time stuck in the apocalypse following 2019 and how he met a mannequin he named Delores. You knew this was his way of keeping himself sane and you were grateful that his experience allowed him to be more open to other forms of life and thus become the closest friend you ever had. 

You hummed in agreement and let a pleasant silence fall between you. Your eyes wandered around the room, discovering new faces among those you already knew. You met Dot’s gaze and couldn’t stop yourself, her bright smile was contagious so you smiled in return. 

Five got up and you followed suit. He decided to take you outside, knowing that there was a high probability that you hadn’t taken the time to go enjoy some time outside this oppressing building. Just as he was about to open the door, you stopped dead in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” His straight face was betrayed by his concerned tone. At your hesitation, Five pulled you aside. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t go outside if I am not assigned to a mission.” You told him the sad truth. You were a prisoner of this building and its powerful board of directors. 

“What?” He pained to control his anger, his hands opening and closing at his sides in an attempt to keep it down. “They ordered you to stay inside?” You nodded. Conflict was written all over his face. From what your programming told you, there was a big chance that he was contemplating ordering you to follow him outside, but then he would break his promise of never ordering you around, so you went to his rescue.

“Even if you were to order me to go outside, I can’t. The authority of my orders are far beyond yours.” His knuckles were now turning white and you asked yourself if you did right to tell him that there was a hierarchy of orders inside your head dictating what you could and couldn’t do.

“Then fight it.” His blunt statement took you by surprise. The blue LED on your temple turned yellow and Five continued. “Fight the orders. I know you can do it.”

You shook your head, at a loss of words. You never went against an order before. You were made to obey. Follow orders. It was simple. 

But could you do it? Five believed in you. He believed in your capacity to overcome authority. But then, what? What would you do? Why would you do it? You would lose the only meaning of your life. Obey orders. Your LED now flashed bright red, only showing sign of your internal turmoil. 

//Software instability ↓

“I am a machine made to follow-” Five’s fist collided with the nearest wall at your words. He knew it was your programming talking but he couldn’t help but be frustrated.

“No. You are so much more than that, you just let yourself being blinded by your stupid programs.” He knew he was too harsh on you. He wasn’t even sure you had control over your own actions, he simply had a feeling that if you wanted, if you fought hard enough, you could be free. He only didn’t understand why you were not fighting. 

Before you had the time to find the right words, Five took off, storming into the hallway leading to his personal quarters, leaving you behind with his words echoing through your processors. Fight the orders. 

You didn’t see Five for 9 days after that day. You supposed he was out for a mission or simply got tired of being around you. You knew that the latter had a very low probability, but it was there nonetheless and it made you uncomfortable inside. 

Today was a holiday at the Commission. No one was working, so you had to pass the time, somehow. You wandered the hallways for a while before you got an idea. You read a book a while back, stating that people liked to be reminded that they were appreciated, so you decided to write little notes to every one of your management colleagues. Outside of Five, they were the only ones who didn’t lose their smile at your sight and you wanted them to know that they were important to you. 

So you passed the next hour writing little messages and placing them on their respective desk. You were just finishing writing Herb’s when footsteps entering the room made you look up.

“Still here? Today’s off.” Five stated, a frown on his face when he saw you fold a piece of paper in two and carefully place it in the middle of the empty workspace. 

“I know. I just wanted to write some nice words to my colleagues. Management has been under a lot of pressure lately and the board has been mean to a lot of them.” You smiled at your paper before joining Five and handed him a light blue paper with his name written in the CyberLife Sans Font. “And I have one for you.”

You missed the blush forming on his cheeks, too concerned about the increasing speed of his heartbeat to care about some color. “Are you alright?” You didn’t wait for an answer. You reached forward, lightly touching his forehead to get his exact temperature. Under your touch the temperature didn’t stop rising, concerning you even more. “Five, you are sick.” 

The man chuckled slightly although his throat was very much constricted at the moment. He took your wrist in a light grip, breaking the contact of your soft skin on his. He took a moment to swallow his emotions and regain control of his body and faced your patient form. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” You opened your mouth to disagree as he lifted his hands to stop you from interrupting his train of thoughts. “This is a natural reaction.” 

You frowned, waiting for him to elaborate. Back in 2038, you would have been able to make a quick research on the internet and find what exactly Five was alluding to, but in this different timeline, in 1955, you had no such access. The explanation you were waiting for never came, instead, Five took the blue paper from your hands, placed it in his pocket and made sure that it wouldn’t fall out. He then grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the room. You smiled at your joined hands, the feeling of his fingers laced between yours was an enjoyable one. 

Five took you up a flight of stairs and stopped before a door. 

“I thought about what you said and I’m sorry I tried to push you to go against your orders. I know it must be scary.” His hand squeezed yours a bit tighter in hope that you would forgive him for his words and actions. He ran away after all, in a moment where you needed a friend to help you out.

“I forgive you.” You smiled brightly at him, no resentment present on your face at all. The sudden tightness of his hand around yours was mistaken for relief, when really, all the man was trying to do was refrain himself from leaning forward and do something he might regret. 

His resolve was melting like ice under your bright smile, leading him to open the door in a hurry. He stepped aside and your eyes fell on a darkening blue sky, green lands, a world that you missed so much. 

“Technically, the roof is still part of the building, which means that you are allowed to follow me.” He smirked, proud of himself for finding a loophole that would allow him to pass time with you without any eyes preying on your every movement. 

You stepped outside in a rush, pulling Five along with you. The fresh evening air felt heavenly on your skin, the smells invading your receptors were almost too much compared to the smell of a closed building that never opened their windows and the notes of the last birds singing before they went to their nest to rest for the night was one of the most melodious sounds you've heard in a while. 

"I take it that you like the view." 

"I do." Tears formed into your eyes before falling down your flawless cheeks. "Thank you." 

Five froze on the spot. He was used to the tears of his victims but he usually paid them no mind, ense the tenseness in his body when he realized that he didn't know what to do. Never would he have thought that you were able to actually cry. If it wasn't of the LED flashing a serene blue on the side of your face, Five would have definitely thought that you were human. The heat beneath his fingers was so real, along with the feeling of your skin on his. Your breathing was emulated perfectly, its speed changing in different situations like any human. The more he thought about it, the more Five found himself in awe in front of your complexity and his hope of you becoming the master of yourself was growing along with it. 

"You're welcome." 

You found yourself being pulled gently towards a bench facing the slowly setting sun. Comfortably seated on the bench, you took the time to admire the beautiful scenery until soft strokes on the back of your hand made you redirect your gaze to your hand resting on Five's lap. 

"Can I ask you a question?" Your small voice broke the silence, almost scared to break the moment. To your relief Five paid no mind, he hummed in approval. "You told me that you ran away from your family before ending up in the apocalypse, and I was wondering if you ever wanted to go back to them." You had noticed a slight waver in his voice at the time. He missed them dearly. Your programming wanted you to help him out of his misery, but something new, something hidden inside the depth of your coding was nagging at you that if you didn't, he would stay with you and you wouldn't be alone anymore. 

"I do. But it's not that simple. I have a contract and if I was to break it, there would be consequences." You nodded, understanding what he meant. The nagging feeling was back again but this time it was corrupting your thoughts, berating yourself that you shouldn't think that he cared about you. You were an Android, a machi- "And there's you. If I go, I'll take you with me." His eyes met yours, full of hope and something else that you couldn't name. His grin put an end to your dark thoughts, instead causing a too familiar alert to pop into your line of vision. 

//Software instability ↑↑↑

Five recognized some emotions flashing on your face and tried to get more out of you by talking about his family. He shared his fondest memories of his childhood, which earned him some laughs and excited squeals from you, but didn't stop there as he was sure that you were aware of your own emotions but didn't know what they were yet. It was well known that the strongest emotions were the negative ones, so Five turned his strategy around by telling you about the not-so-happy ones, the memories involving his father. 

He knew he was manipulating you in a way and he felt bad for it. All he could do was wish that you would forgive him once you got a hold of your free will. 

You parted ways with Five that night with a head full of new information and a software ready to explode. You walked past the door where your charging station was waiting for you and made your way to the only place where you knew you could find answers. A place no one dared to venture in the whole time you were under the Commission's wings. 

The basement. 

The door was rusted, its hinged crying in pain under your push but inevitably giving in to the inhuman strength hidden beneath your skin. You walked between the rows of dusty books, scanning their spine, sometimes having to brush your fingers over the thick layer of filth covering the letters so you could read the titles. You found two books into the 741 available that matched your needs, you took great care while carrying them to the closest entertaining room where you knew movies were waiting in old boxes. 

You started reading, discovering more and more about human emotions and how they could be interpreted through their body language. You linked some of your recent experiences with various emotions and feelings. Jealousy, happiness, curiosity, apprehension… you felt them. They were real. You could emulate physical aspects like tears, but what happened inside was totally out of your control. 

Then you found a page describing Five's odd behavior around you. Your eyes went to the top of the page and the pump replacing your heart started pumping erratically. Love. Five was in love? You shook your head in denial, closed the book and searched the boxes for romantic movies. After watching some and analyzing the actors body language as well as their verbal interactions, you would prove to yourself that you were crazy. Defective. 

The total opposite happened and it left you to ponder on the whats. What happened? What changed? Sure, every clue pointed toward Five, but you'd had software instabilities before, whenever someone was truly unfair to you or one of your colleagues. Surely one single person couldn't change you so much, right? 

The biggest questions suddenly dropped into your mind like a bomb. What does it mean for you? What were you supposed to do?

The overwhelming feeling of being overtaken by the recent events was too much at this moment. Tears rolled down your cheeks, sobs escaped your mouth, your legs couldn't support your weight anymore. Everything you thought you knew was a lie. You weren't an insentient machine. You had feelings. You weren't an object that anyone could order around. Not anymore. Because you had a will. You had needs. You were alive and you wanted things. 

As soon as your legs allowed you to stay upright, you made your way up the stairs and closed the doors behind you. Surprisingly, the hallways were full of life. 

June 29th, 1955

AM 07:12:53

Apparently you were too engrossed into your own self-discovery that time flew by without you noticing it. 

You ran toward the nearest flight of stairs, the ones near the main entrance, doing your best to avoid hitting someone in the process. Under different circumstances, the abnormally high amount of disgusted glances you received would have stopped you in your tracks and very possibly caused you to hide somewhere for a while, but today was different. Today was the day that you assumed your place as an equal of the human race. 

Just as you were about to climb the stairs, you spotted a familiar white-haired man, his signature scowl plastered on his face keeping people at bay. Once again, your pump accelerated its movement. Was it his fault or the excitement of telling him what you discovered? You couldn't tell. 

You almost yelled his name just as he was to about to enter the briefcase room, the word bouncing on the walls, earning you more disapproving glances. His head snapped in your direction, making you worry for a second that he hurt his neck in the process. He frowned as you made your way to him, confusion written all over his features. 

"Is something wrong?" He noticed something changed into how you held yourself although he failed to pinpoint it. 

"I have something to tell you." You smiled, full of confidence. "It'll be quick, I promise." You knew he had a job to do, just like yourself. 

He hummed as his free hand reached for yours and pulled you away from the crowd, closer to the open door leading to the reserve of time-traveling machines. When he judged that the place was ideal, he turned to you and waited for you to find your words. Which didn't take long. 

"I noticed strange things happening inside me whenever I was around you-" Five's heartbeat accelerated. "-or in other situations-" He frowned. "-so last night I made some research on human emotions and I discovered that I have them too." 

His smile was the brightest you've ever seen on him and yet, he didn't know the best part. You lifted your hand between your two bodies when he opened his mouth to congratulate you or something. 

"It wasn't the only thing that I found out. I know why your heart rate accelerates, why your temperature rises suddenly and why your pupils dilate every time you look at me." 

Add all this to his slightly quicker breathing, his bitten interior lip and the new tightness of his hand around yours, you almost started laughing. If it wasn't of your knowledge of how bad he would take it, you certainly would have done it. 

"Your feelings are mutual." You chuckled at his surprise, his mouth hanging open for a second before the words finally came back to him in the form of a stutter. 

Before he could get a better hold of himself, Christopher, the briefcase manager yelled for Five to come and get his damn briefcase. His first reflex was to gnash in anger, his moment pulverized by some idiot that he would gladly punch into oblivion. He was about to do just that when a soft hand fell upon his chest and a delicate kiss upon his cheek. 

"Go work. We can talk more when you come back." Before he could place one word or just realized what had happened, you were gone, swallowed whole into the mass of bodies making their way to their day occupations. 

Five came back the same day, excited on the inside, impatient on the outside. As soon as he arrived, he dropped the briefcase harshly on Christopher's desk and hurried out of the room to find you. He hoped that you were still at your desk, somehow, seeing as he had no clue of where your quarters were situated. He was disappointed to find the management room completely dark and empty. 

Frustrated, the best option he had was to look around for you after he had a nice cup of coffee to keep him on track. So with the biggest cup he could find in hands, the assassin walked around, sometimes asking the few people still inside about your whereabouts without any luck. 

After an hour the man gave up, thinking it would be easier to find you tomorrow. On the journey to his bed, Five heard yells coming from the floor beneath his. He normally wouldn't have stopped to eavesdrop if it wasn't of the particular choice of words. 

"When a human gives you an order, you obey!" The words made him cringe. He seriously hoped for the man that you weren't involved in any way, his hands were already closing into tight fist at the prospect of an idiot bullying you. 

"I know you can deactivate it." The loud voice yelled again. "Do it!" 

Five walked towards the open flight of stairs, his coffee slipping from his hand at what he saw. 

With a shaking hand, you reached for your red LED and with a slight pressure of your finger, your skin progressively disappeared, the emulating particles getting back under your white hard basic Android body. 

The laughs resonating around you were overwhelming and totally degrading. The pain from the insults thrown your way was too much for your newly acquired conscience, the tears falling down your cheeks proved that you were still pretty fragile emotionally. 

Something broke in the background, like a glass exploding on the floor, but your attention was elsewhere. A fist collided with the side of your face, throwing you to the ground in a yelp. Even though you didn't feel the pain of the hit, the gesture hurt nonetheless. You've never experienced this kind of anger directed at you before and it left you scarred to your core. Scared of what humans could do to you. 

This time, a foot was coming your way, aiming at your abdomen. You prepared yourself for an impact that never came. Slowly, your eyes opened to find Five kneeling over your attacker, his fists colliding with the man's face in quick and brutal successions. The 3 remaining men tried to help their beaten partner, only to redirect Five's wrath upon themselves. 

All you could do was watch as he protected you, spilling blood in the process. You could have kept track of everyone's heartbeat, made sure that everyone was still alive, even if barely, but you found that you didn't care. The only heartbeat that mattered was beating frenetically and you were okay with it. 

Once he was satisfied of his handy job, Five made his way to you, his hand outstretched for you to take. You turned your face away in shame as soon as you reached for his hand and noticed that your skin was still off. You were about to reactivate it when Five got a hold of your wrist, slowly, with care. 

"You don't have to hide from me." You believed him but it was so much more complicated. 

"I don't want you to see me like this." Your voice was merely above a whisper, just enough for him to hear. 

"Why?" 

"Because I don't want you to finally realize that I'm not human." 

Many people, despite knowing that you were an Android, somehow forgot that detail and believed you to be like them or would just find the truth to be too much to handle so they would live in denial of your true identity. 

He chuckled at your words, his free hand cupping your cheek. "I realized it the very first day." He stood up and pulled you with him. "You are not human, not in the slightest. You have so much more humanity than humans themselves. You are so much better than us." 

//Software instability ↑

You avoided his gaze, embarrassed. Your skin recovered your body as soon as you touched your LED, Five's chuckle catching your attention. 

"What?" 

His smirk was as infuriating as it was attractive. "My wild guess is that your blood is blue." You nodded, not seeing why it was funny and how he could know that. "You're blushing." 

Your eyes widened in surprise, as far as you knew, this shouldn't be possible, not for your model anyway. Then again, it shouldn't be possible for you to fall in love with the dangerous assassin beside you. 

"I want to stay with you." 

Five froze for a second, thinking that he heard you wrong. "Y-you want?" 

"Yes." He was quick to turn around and grab your hand, but you saw the tears forming in his eyes anyway. 

The large front door appeared, along with a too well-known order. 

//STAY INSIDE THE COMMISSION'S HEADQUARTER

A slight fear of the unknown crept its way into your determination, making you hesitate slightly. All you knew of this timeline was here, you had nowhere to go, nothing to do. 

Blue eyes met yours, dissolving any fear you had and filling you with confidence. It didn't matter if you had nowhere to go or nothing to do as long as you had Five by your side. He would take care of you just as you would take care of him, the rest didn't matter. 

So you fought against the order as hard as you could. You destroyed every line of code forbidding you to do as you wanted, pulverized any programming restricting your actions, cut every link you had to the American Android Act, freeing yourself of all the ropes preventing you from becoming your own master. The wall restraining you finally fell and you felt it, deep inside you. Freedom. 

"I don't want to brag, but I told ya." You slapped Five's arms, completely failing to remove the smirk of his lips. "Shall we?" 

You followed his steps, excitement almost making you break into a run just for the fun of it. "Where to?" 

"Want to get them back and stop their precious apocalypse?" You loved the arrogance in his voice, a slight shiver ran up your spine as your hand tightened around his. 

"Absolutely." 

And so you jumped into the vortex with him. Panic flowed through your systems as you didn't recognize the young boy landing at your side. The feeling was quickly replaced by amusement at his outburst and admission of his equation error. 

You didn't have time to meet his siblings that Five jumped the both of you to a bedroom. Five was searching the wardrobe when you spotted a small mirror on the desk near the bed. Your blue LED was shining, as bright as a star on a clear night. For some reason, you felt sad. 

The LED would continue to attract people's attention on you, creating the same circle of hatred that followed you everywhere at the Commission. You had had enough of that. 

Your help appeared under the form of a pair of scissors, discarded on the desk with pencils and rulers. You grabbed them in a stronghold, carefully placed one blade slightly under the ring and lifted at the same moment Five yelped your name in alarm. The light blue died before the ring hit the floor, its metallic surface bouncing twice before stopping. 

"Are you okay?" His hands grabbed both your wrist in a panic, his eyes searching your face for any trace of self-harm. 

"Now I am." 

Five saw it then. Your bare temple. The only thing keeping you from being invisible in a crowd and reaching happiness. You removed your jacket, leaving you in your black dress, looking like the most beautiful woman the boy had ever met. He tried to ignore the open back of your dress that was so generously reflected in the mirror behind you, instead focussing on how fulfilled you looked. 

Five wanted to keep this conversation for later, but he couldn't anymore. As much as he hated to think about it, your bright smile had too much effect on his heart for him to possibly ignore it.

"You said my feelings were mutual, are you sure about it?" 

You nodded, a hand reaching for his cheek, thumb stroking the flesh just like he did minutes ago in the Commission's hall. 

"I am 100% sure. I feel the same love for you that you feel for me." 

Five's body overheated at the mention of his feelings out loud. Sure, he knew what it was, but thinking it and saying it was two different things. 

"Five is in love?!" Diego's exclamation on the other side of the door was soon followed by a yelp and people arguing not so subtly. 

The boy saw red, this conversation was private and of course, his siblings had to stick their dirty noses into his stuff. 

"We want to meet her!" Klaus' voice boomed over the others, their voices dying momentarily. 

Five jumped to the hallway, death glare on, knuckles cracking, nostrils flaring. 

"I killed 4 guys today because they acted like morons like you are all doing right now. So let me ask this once. Do you still want to pester us or will you wait in the kitchen?" 

Mouths were opened in shock and eyes wide in fear. Five accepted their silence as an answer and returned into his room where you were grinning. 

"I like them." He rolled his eyes at your excitement. 

"There's really not much to like." 

"Oh, hush. I know you love them." 

That he knew, you were a quick learner after all. 

"And I love you." Soft lips met his cheeks for a second before disappearing and just like earlier, Five's brain stopped working. 

"Oh. My. God! She kissed him!" 

A chorus of what made the boy lose it. He jumped back to the hallway, kicked the remaining siblings, who without surprise were all males, right where it hurts. 

"Mind your own fucking business!" He screamed at his brothers before closing the door with force. 

He breathed deeply once, twice, thrice before turning to you, his signature smirk stretching his lips. 

"I love you too."

[castiel-barnes]

Saving you.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader.

Summary: Poe saves you after being severely tortured by the first order.

Warnings: Angst. Blood. Medical inaccuracies probably. Leia being a surrogate mother. Wedge being surrogate father. Fluff.

Wordcount: 1.7k

A/N: I know I wrote a poe for just the other day but I needed to try do angst with flyboy.

Tag: @phoenixhalliwell

Poe had always been that level headed, ace pilot that everyone knew him to be. But this was a side no one else had ever seen. Not even General Organa. He was running off of no sleep and caffeine and that was it. Bags had formed under his eyes, his usually somewhat neat curls were all over the place.

You had been captured and tortured by the First Order. After your X-Wing had crashed troopers had dragged you away, and took you on board of Kylo Rens Star destroyer. It had gotten to the point during being tortured that you started to dissociate from the reality that was happening around you.

"What are they doing?" Hux asked a lieutenant that was in your cell with him,

"It seems they are distancing themselves from reality sir, to cope with the pain." The lieutenant responded as they look down at you, and your weakened state as you stared into the distance.

Back on the resistance base, Leia physically forced Poe to go to bed. Making sure that either Rey or Finn were there to make sure he actually slept. He had to be honest, he did feel better physically after getting some well needed rest. After getting some sleep, he woke up and freshend himself up. That was until Finn came running in the room.

"POE! LEIA NEEDS US!!" Finn stated heaving the words out. Poe, BB-8 and Finn running or in BB-8s case rolling at full force down corridors leading towards the control room. There Leia stood over a table of information. Sensing the 2 boys and the droid enter the room, she turned and looked Poe dead in they eye.

"Poe... we found them." She simply stated. A little bit of pressure had lifted off of Poe's shoulders for a moment, knowing that he would be able to get to you. Everything around base started getting busy, Poe, Finn, Rey and BB-8 got the falcon ready and we're on their way to the ship.

You were still in your cell on the floor. The extent of your injuries worse than anyone on base has had for a long while. You were certain that your leg was broken from the crash, only to be made worse by Hux and his men. They hadn't given you anything to eat or drink, so your hydration levels were extremely low. Cuts and bruises had formed all over your body. You were finding it difficult to move anything, and the extent of some of your injuries would probably require some PT and a slow recovery.

Inside the Millenium Falcon, Poe sat there nervously his leg bouncing up and down. Rey walked over to him and kneeled in front of him.

"We're gonna find them Poe." Rey stated quietly,

"I know. It's just.... what state they'll be in." He replied even quieter. She left him to simmer with his thoughts until it was time to board the destroyer. The destroyer came into view after dropping out of hyperspace, and Rey could sense your presence but it was very weak. After spending a few minutes, the three of them along with BB-8 were aboard the ship and Rey used the force on some troopers to find you.

Coming to a stop outside your cell, BB-8 got the door open for the others. Poe was first in, and the sight shattered his heart into a million little pieces.

"Y/N? Honey, it's Poe. We're taking you home." Poe stated quietly. He could see your shallow breathes, but there was no recognition of the fact that he was there and not to mention you were almost cold to the touch. Picking you up as gently as he could, he heard you groan and your eyebrows pinch a little.

"Poe?" Your voice cracked as you felt your body being lifted,

"Yeah baby, I'm here I'm saving you baby. We're going home." Poe responded. The five of you moved through the ship, Finn and BB-8 in front, Poe with you in and out of consciousness in the middle and Rey at the back. It wasn't long until you were all in the hanger, blaster fire all over the place. But you all managed to get away on the Falcon.

Poe laid you gently on the bed, and sat next you holding your hand. Rey and Finn left the two of you alone, knowing that Poe would just want to be with you and not talk. As he sat next to you, he felt your hand squeeze his ever so slightly but no words came out. You were too tired.

"I know baby, we're two minutes away from base." He said quietly to you, his free hand stroking your hair back gently. Surely enough two minutes later, the falcon dropped out of hyperspace right above the current planet the base was on.

Medics rushed onto the falcon, helping transfer you onto a floating medical bed. Poe ran behind them on the way to medical, but soon stopped him when they went to get ready to be treated. Poe started sobbing, as he slid down the wall not realising that Leia had just arrived. She got Poe to stand up and then drew him in for a hug and let him cry. Leia knew that you two were in love, and it made her heart break to know that Poe almost lost you in the way he lost his mother, but also then having to hear you have been tortured by the First Order.

Eventually, Poe and Leia were allowed to see you. You looked better, the miracle of bacta doing its job. And when Poe touched your hand it was far warmer than it had been previously. It took you a long while to wake up, the bacta working as best it could. The medics checked on you frequently, and Poe stayed next to you for almost the entire time.

You opened your eyes, the bright light of medical causing then to shut again. Slowly your eyes adjusted to the light and you were able to see what was going on around you. Looking to the left of you, you saw Poe dozing at an odd angle in the chair next to you.

"Poe..." you croaked barely anything coming out, "Poe." You managed to say a bit louder. He sat up with a start, almost falling off of the chair. His eyes were wide but tired, as he looked at you tears welled in his but a smile was across his face.

"Hi honey, how are you feeling?" Poe asked quietly stroking your hair back,

"Like absolute shit. You look tired." You replied bringing one hand up to his face.

"It's cause I am baby, you gave me a scare." Poe stated leaning into your hand and locking eyes,

"Your gonna need physical therapy for that leg you know." He continued kissing the palm of your hand.

"I'm sorry I scared you flyboy. And I know, I gathered that when I was.... when I was. Yeah I gathered." You stuttered out, everything suddenly coming back to you at once. You looked at Poe, tears now falling down your face.

"K-kriff I'm.... im so sorry Poe. I almost left you and... and I was so scared, all I could think about was you." You continued breathing starting to get more panicky.

"No, no baby. Hey listen Y/N it's fine, there is nothing to be sorry about. Baby just breathe, please just breathe for me." Poe stated instantly taking your hand in his and calming you down. Eventually you started breathing properly again and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment.

"I'm sorry Poe." You whispered,

"It's okay baby, I understand. You've had a bad few weeks. But I'm not going anywhere and neither are you, because you're safe." Poe responded kissing you gently.

***********************************

It had just been over a month now that Poe had rescued you. Medical had cleared you to go to your own quarters, but you had to go back either every day or every other day for physical therapy. Some days were better than others.

If Poe was away though, you'd spin his mother's ring around your finger. Which he had given to you as a sign of unity, not long after you were discharged.

Today though, you had a rest from therapy and you decided you'd go sit outside and watch Black Squadron practice flight maneuvers. Sensing a presence next to you, you turned and saw that it was Wedge. Wedge Antilles was like a father to you, he was one of the first faces you saw when you joined the Resistance, and he was the one that taught you everything that you knew.

Standing up, you smiled and hugged him. He sat down next to you and looked at the X-Wings flying past.

"Hey Wedge." You said smiling at the older gentleman,

"Hey kid, how's the leg?" He asked smiling back at you.

"It has its moments. It gets bad some days and then others it's like I didn't injure it. But therapy is helping, I just wanna get back out there." You replied looking up as Poe soared past,

"Yeah I know the feeling. I didn't tell you about the time I basically had the same accident as you did I?" He stated tracking your eyes to your fiancé.

"No sir." You shook your head, now focusing on Wedge,

"Not long after the fall of the Empire and the destruction of the second Death star, I went out of my way to find if there was any remnants of the Empire left behind. One day, my ship got shot by a Tie and I crashed into one of the few remaining star destroyers. Injured myself of course, spent a little while moving around the ship before being caught and tortured for answers. This was above the planet Akiva, and they took me to the imperial Palace which was a magnificent building. After that I don't really remember much, but that's where I met Snap and his mum. I done therapy for a injury similar to yours." He explained, his eyes looking into the distance as he remembered.

"I didn't know that you met Snap that long ago." You replied,

"Yeah, he had a droid modified from the clone wars called MR BONES. But the thing is, therapy will get better Y/N." He stated smiling a sense of understanding there.

"Thank you Wedge." You smiled back giving him a hug again. The two of you sat there for a while, until you both agreed that getting food from the mess sounded good. You used your cane to help you around, sometimes placing most of your weight on it.

The good thing was that you had someone who understood how you felt, someone who loved you dearly and someone that could bring you or your fiancé comfort anytime.