#but when it's taking other people's jobs that's where I draw the line

[pinecone-gremlin]

AI can't make hot people. Just saying.

[gatsby-system-folks]

I have a lot of thoughts about ai and most of them are sad

[ridher]

jj maybank running into the sweet new girl when stopping by a local smoothie shop

it was only your second day on the job, the first one where you were on your own to serve those strolling the hot summer beach packed with both kooks, pogues, and the occasional touron.

you hadn't even had a chance to make any friends beyond the other young girls you worked with, but even that wasn't more than friendly conversation. you'd gotten a job straight after moving to the south side of kildare — your family needed the money.

it was getting a bit stressful as soon as it hit late afternoon. the crowd of people in line along with the heat beating down during its prime hours, plus being so inexperienced, was overwhelming and starting to get to your performance.

pushing through, you get to what seems like the last group of people for a bit. by now, pieces have fallen from the messy updo of your hair and a thin sheen of sweat coats your body — even through the lenient dress code that allows you to wear a dainty tank top and jean shorts.

still, you greet them with a sweet smile that's mostly directed at the boy in front with brown, curly hair, sporting a bandana around his neck. your lips part to recite the words you'd been trained to welcome customers by when a blonde boy pushes his way up from behind and flashes a crooked smirk.

"um, what can i get you guys today?" you hesitate and it comes out less confident than when said to all the customers before.

"yeah.. let me get a uh— y'know, what do you suggest?" the same boy responds, arms crossing while his brows pinch like he's thinking awfully hard.

based on the expressions of the group accompanying him — two other boys and one girl — this behavior from the sun-tanned boy isn't an uncommon occurrence.

"this week's special's been my favorite recently." something about the attention of his intense eye contact has you nervous, shifting in your stance and brushing loose strands of hair from your face.

"shit, aight, gimme four of 'em." his haze only briefly darts to the little stand showcasing said smoothie before he agrees.

"wh—" the other boy behind him is ignored when he attempts to speak up, the girl only rolling her eyes and directing her attention elsewhere.

nonetheless, you get started on four of the same drink, back turned to the group as you move about — mind full thinking about the smallest interaction between you and the boy.

soon enough, you arrange the smoothies across the counter and ring up the price on a company tablet. that's when you finally look back up at the boy with a small but genuine smile and relay the total.

hassling the previous leader for money, he places the cash on the surface between you two, tonguing at his cheek with an almost amused look when his lips turn up slightly.

the smoothies get distributed and their change is returned, yet that one boy lingers across the counter.

"jj. you're new, yeah?" he finally asks, sticking out the hand that's not holding a drink.

you nod, shaking his hand and checking behind him to make sure nobody is waiting on the exchange before pulling your hand away and telling him your name.

jj nods, not so subtly taking in your full appearance with a sip from the straw. his eyes finally land back on yours and his expression is ever so smug noticing the flush on your cheeks.

knocking on the counter with his knuckles, he shakes his head to himself and starts to walk off in the path his friends went.

"i'll see ya 'round." drawing out your name at the end of his departing statement and winking, jj finally leaves.

it's all you can recall the rest of your shift, especially when you catch his stares from various spots across the beach before being punched in the arm or smacked on the back of his head by what you see now to be his group of pogue friends.

you can't help but smile to yourself, knowing he's just as intrigued by you that you are him — even if it just makes the hands on the clock move faster daydreaming about a cute surfer boy.

[tacticaldiary]

can you do a ghost x head doctor!reader? kind of that scenario where ghost is like, “i don’t want a regular plain nurse; i want reader 🙄” and reader is like, the head doctor of the medical wing or whatever, and doesn’t usually deal with regular military injuries, but puts up with ghost’s shit anyways? 😋

Superficial Wounds, Deep Devotion

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Fluff; Hurt/Comfort

"Need me to kiss it better?" She quips with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll take anything you prescribe." Comes the smooth answer. It draws out a snort of laughter from her as she turns around with the gauze.

"All you need is to stop scaring away the field medics." She steps in between his legs, wiping down the cut on his shoulder with disinfectant.

Masterlist

"Ghost?" Her head snaps up from the clipboard. "What's wrong with him?" She frowns, pushing down the bubbling panic in her chest.

"He's asking for you to treat him in room Q42."

"Is he bleeding?" The urgency itches just below her skin but her cool professionalism doesn't crack. She doesn't deal with superficial injuries, only the most complex cases. She's seen it all. Mangled faces, guts hanging out, disfigured bodies.

So the fact that they were asking for her-...

Wait.

"Is command asking me to see him?" She says slowly.

The soldier shakes his head. "No ma'am. It was a request from the Lieutenant himself."

She releases a slow exhale, relief tingling. "I'll see to it." She dismisses him with a wave, starting down the hall.

Simon had this...habit of seeking her out. It was a perk of his rank, she supposes, but she'd been the only one to treat him ever since they'd encountered each other way back when she was an on-site combat nurse.

It's impossible to forget seeing him for the first time. That skull mask of his was splattered blood red, a bullet wound in his shoulder as he sat on one of the dusty cots in the emergency tents they'd set up in the middle of the desert.

They'd just clicked.

She ended up treating him again after that, and that's when he started personally requesting her.

It hadn't taken long for the spark between them to explode into something intense and loving. He was the anchor to her stressful life, unshakable and a steady presence. She was his person, one of the only people he trusted with his injuries and his heart, the warmth that let him focus on being better.

Swinging open the door without knocking, the man in question sits there in all his glory in front of her.

Admittedly, the first she stares at is his chest. He's shirtless, a cut that she can tell is superficial and non-fatal from all the way by the door.

"You can come inside." His voice is amused and knowing, the bastard.

"Inviting me into my own house?" She swallows, but listens. The door is kicked shut behind her. The moment it's closed he tugs off his mask, the weary lines of his face much more prominent under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room. "How was your op?" Stopping by the cot he's sitting on to press a quick kiss to his sweaty head, she breezes past him to the medical trolley nearby.

"Fine. Did what we had to." They both know he won't volunteer any more information. Just as she doesn't confide in him with every horrific injury she deals with, he doesn't expose her to the horrific things he has to do. A mutual withholding of information for the peace of mind of both parties.

"Thought you weren't due to come home until tomorrow. I was gonna meet you on the tarmac and everything."

"Surprise." He deadpans, making her snicker.

"You know, for the big bad Ghost you are, you sure need to cause such a fuss about a little cut." Gathering what she needs, she casts him a glance over her shoulder.

"Thought it was your job to make sure I was in the best state possible for deployment?"

She loves this back-and-forth they have. He does too, if the relaxed way he leans back on his arms is anything to go by. It had taken years and years to get to the place they are right now. Years of work, of communication and trust.

"It's my job to take care of the worst, highest profile cases."

"I'd say this is pretty urgent." This playful side of him came out when they were alone.

"Need me to kiss it better?" She quips with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll take anything you prescribe." Comes the smooth answer. It draws out a snort of laughter from her as she turns around with her spoils.

"Can I prescribe you to stop scaring away the field medics?" She steps in between his legs, wiping down the cut on his shoulder with disinfectant. He doesn't wince or cringe or even flinch at the burn, eyes fixed on her face as she works.

"I'm a Lieutenant, I can do what I want."

She pauses, raising an eyebrow. "Are you really pulling rank on me right now?"

He hums, sliding up to hold her hips, tugging her closer. "Don't seem to mind it when we're alone, love." A smirk tugs at his mouth when a flush creeps up the back of her neck. God, he loves that look on her.

"What's gotten into you?" Shaking her head but unable to push down a smile, she works on securing the gauze, taping it down. "Getting clingy, are we now?"

He...well he can't deny it. He doesn't want to tell her the reason for it either, even if she's subtly fishing for answers.

He'd been an inch away from getting shredded by flying shrapnel from a car bomb today.

If Gaz, quick-witted, sharp, Gaz hadn't yelled and yanked him to cover behind a brick wall he would've been embedded with scraps of metal and rusty nails.

Dead, as his namesake.

Ghost wasn't afraid of death. Ghost got up every day ready to not see the sunrise again. Ghost was a cold blooded machine ready to do whatever his orders were.

But Simon wanted to live.

Simon wanted to come home to her. Simon wanted the last thing he saw to be her smile. Simon selfishly wanted her more than any victory his rifle could earn him.

Ghost had been unfazed, Simon had realised the inevitability of the avoided consequence.

Lips press against his bare shoulder. Right, left, and then gently on the gauze. It brings him back to the present, his grip on her tightens for a moment. Her gaze is soft, knowing. Because of course it is. She's the only one who's been able to get into his head like this, been able to crack the code to thoughts he himself doesn't have the key for.

"Any of other glaringly dangerous injuries I need to take a look at?" His eyes follow the smooth line of her neck as she tilts her head towards him. He exhales, shifts, and pulls her closer without warning, banding a strong arm around her.

"Dunno. Think you might have to conduct a comprehensive examination."

She laughs against his lips and goes down with him when he shifts farther up the cot.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(1/09/2023)

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Beca beca please please I’m begging you write smt w cooper x shy!plus size reader. Please please please😭😭😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

In The Now | Cooper Adams/Abbott x Plus Size F!Reader

Gif credit to @d-vient

Synopsis: Nightly walks by the fire station is a ritual, a way to clear your mind from the bullshit in your life. The firefighters do so much for your community, why not give them a little appreciation back? Though, only one remains, and he happens to be your favorite.

Warnings: Porn with Plot, Smut, Soft!Cooper, Shy!Reader, Mentions of weight (soft belly/tummy, grabbable thighs, soft flesh, ect.), Public Sex???, Oral F!Receiving, Floor Sex, Cooper Talks You Through It (Shh its canon,)

Word Count: 6.2k

Rating: M

Author’s Note: I hope I did your request justice.

Tagging: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

Introvert; a typically reserved or quiet person who tends to be introspective and enjoys spending time alone. Shy; being reserved or having or showing nervousness or timidity in the company of other people. What do both have in common? You. Being shy and introverted is not a bad thing, no, in fact it is a great thing. It protects you from the horrors of the world, keeps you in line with other things in life so – you can get the full experience without the bullshit that comes with it. It is a better way to go through each day; You’re not naïve but careful. You don’t leave traces where you have been, but you garner experiences. You don’t remember conversations but, you remember names and faces. It is better that way; it is easier to be in the background of everyone else’s journey than to be at the forefront. Not being seen is good, it’s safe. You know where you are and cannot be touched. It’s better than whatever is going on locally.

Sure, Philadelphia isn’t the prime location for a job change but – it was better than one season states. At least in Philly you got to see the leaves change, sun to rain to snow, every element was prevalent each day. It was a step up from what you were used to, nothing could follow you here. Your past, your regrets – they stayed away, like they deserved to. You deserved and needed a fresh start – this was the best way to do it, this ensured that you could be seen with fresh eyes, over critical ones. You didn’t want to be in the spotlight, or in places where it wasn’t important. You wanted a name for yourself, but one that didn’t bring attention. Wallflower, that was what you wanted. Standing, listening, analyzing; You take inventory of a room and guess the life pattern for everyone, then be on your merry way. Quiet, demure, mindful.

Moving here was a dream come true – a great work opportunity that you couldn’t pass on. You would’ve been a fool to do so. Plus, a way to escape the realism of your hometown? Call it a win-win situation. It was what every reclusive person wanted; Fully remote, put up in a swanky condo across from the fire department – so you know you’d never lose power in snowstorms. It was good; Safe. It meant you were out of the public sights of the world, you could in passing say hi and move on – never commit to the names. They never mattered anyways. It was a great experience, a great road trip drive, and better yet – a dream come true to explore.

Ladder 49 in Philly is an exuberant bunch – always laughing and welcoming the neighbors in. Every Spring day they are drawing hopscotch with the kids. Every Summer they are playing basketball. Every Autumn they are carving pumpkins and delivering turkeys. Every Winter they are holding toy drives and shoveling people out. When they say they are community driven – they are not kidding. Years upon years of photos always sit in the forefront of the station, showing new and oldcomers alike how much they love giving back, how devoted they are to the community. It was the luck of the draw for you to be across from it, it was a match made in heaven. The first day you moved in was just a show of their kindness, their dedication. Especially when the fire chief came strolling over with a simple sentence: “Let me take those for you.” He didn’t even stutter or miss a step as he took the box out of your arms, and carried it inside. A leader of example, considering his men were quick to grab the rest. That was your first interaction with Cooper Adams, and sure as hell hoped it wasn’t going to be the last.

With the Summer cresting into Fall in Philly, shorts weather now became jeans and a sweatshirt weather. It felt better, not having to deal with chafing thighs and the constant sticky skin. The humidity was brutal this time of the year, but as it dried against you skin it felt nice. The second you could feel it on your back, your stomach, and your sides? It was AC for you. But with the Fall rolling through it just made things better. The air was crisper, the mood was starting to get that spooky feel – with Halloween on the way in. It was everything you wanted, everything you asked for. Everything that made the world feel alright again.

Your favorite things to do during this time were take late night strolls through the town, getting use to the city and seeing how places were starting to decorate. Headlamps lined the streets in Victorian era black steel, the orange glow of the lightbulbs inside caused a cozy feeling to overtake your body. It brought you solace and comfort, knowing everything would be orange and red soon – and the rain would move in sweetly. Pulling your coat tighter around your body, you wrapped your arms over your chest – enjoying the plush feel. Your boots scuffed at the newly paved sidewalk, bringing music to your ears. Laughter could be heard from around the corner, the park playground – as the smell of marijuana hung sweetly in the air. Inhaling the scent deeply, you let your eyes fall shut at the notion – swaying on your own two feet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re already ready for Winter!” A cheery voice chimed from beside you, causing your eyes to slowly drift open. Turning your head to your right, you saw him sitting against the firehouse wall, spraying down his helmet with cleaner as he smiled at you. Him, the one you have been pining over for months since you arrived in Philly – the one to always strike up a conversation with you. Cooper Adams, fire chief, and resident DILF.

Ever since that first day of taking your boxes in, he never passes on the opportunity to strike up a conversation with you. It was sweet, it was also the highlight of your days. His long chestnut locks always falling into his face, sweeping them away with both hands – the way his ember eyes glittered against any type of lighting sent shivers down your spine. You grew to admire the golden flecks his irises always loved to send out, sparkling like Tiger’s Eye against the sun. He was beauty and grace wrapped into one, the All-American man. Everything you could see yourself wanting, Cooper was. To you it felt silly to have such a high-school crush on a man, clearly in his forties but, the body wants what it wants. The little lines around his eyes when he laughed made your heart grow softer, the way he always admired what you were wearing made your head fill with smoke. He is ethereal, and you never seized the opportunity to embrace that light he shone so brightly.

“Sshh! Don’t say that too loud or else we will get an early one,” you joked, feeling your heart race as your feet started to walk towards the firehouse entrance, leaning against the brick wall beside Cooper. Staring up at you, Cooper laughed so dreamily – music to your ears. He shook with his laughter, which you admired a lot. It wasn’t just a thoughtful reaction but, a mindless one. Everything was always so comical to Cooper, your talk backs and dad jokes. He admired them, and you loved the full body chuckle. Shaking his head, he slowly started to calm his laughter down as he leaned back into the steel chair, sighing out as he grabbed a rag from his side. Propping his helmet on his lap, Cooper started to wipe down the visor of soot from their last call uptown this morning, a two-alarm fire that thankfully no one was home for. Your eyes lost focus on Cooper’s face as he gripped his helmet hard – wiping in circular motions. His blue fire department shirt was rolled around the sleeves, highlighting the beautiful bulging of his biceps. It was soft yet hard; Easily bitable. You felt your mouth water at the thought, smirking inwardly at the idea of doing so.

“You’re fun, you know that?” Internally you cocked your eyebrow, not believing that in the slightest. Sure, you could have fun but, to the outside world? No way. That wasn’t reality. You were a wallflower, shy and quiet versus talkative and extroverted. No, this was only for Cooper – a side of yourself you never would’ve thought would come out as much as it did. Feeling your cheek heat from the compliment, you shied away in yourself for a moment, locking your eyes onto the ground by Cooper booted feet, loving to see the scuffs against the leather – proving how hard he was at work. In fact, you were so into the fantasy of him calling you fun and thinking about his boots, that you wondered what the leather would feel like rubbing against your cu-

“Ah, shit!” Cooper yelled out as he jumped out of his seat, causing you to jump back into reality. Stumbling backwards a bit from the scare, Cooper leaned forth to grab your arm – stopping you from falling. You didn’t quite understand what was happening at first when he grabbed you, but as your body evened out to the stumble, you noticed that the dark blue of Cooper’s shirt was now navy, soaked in liquid – the cleaner he was using. The pungent smell permeated your nostrils, making them flare slightly. Cooper ground his booted feet against the concrete floor, watching you intently as you caught your breath. But you could never bring your eyes to Cooper’s face, no, instead your eyes were fixated on Cooper’s chest. His sopping shirt clinging so well to his form. He was hard in some places, but soft in all the good spots. The soft pudge of his belly to the hardened contours of his sides made your mind go wild. That flush crept down your neck to your chest – suddenly causing your coat to feel too tight around you; Too warm. His nipples pebbled beneath the wetness as a cool breeze rolled through, causing him to shudder.

“Sorry about that, I hope I didn’t splash you,” Cooper spoke with remorse, grimacing at the idea of getting this stuff on you. Shaking your head as you cleared your throat – you closed your eyes momentarily. “Uhm, no…not that I could tell. I was too busy uh,” you began as you chuckled, waving your arms dramatically to signalize your almost fall. Cracking one eye open, you caught Cooper looking at you with a longing look – his head tilted to the side as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. The admiration in his eye lit you on fire, from the inside out. Those beautiful autumn night irises trailed up and down your body, focusing on your baren legs, then trailing up the expanse of your torso – flashing his teeth slightly with his lip bite. You could feel your fingers starting to shake at your side, the electricity between the two of you immaculate – ready to burst at the seams.

As Cooper’s eyes slid over your face, he came to the realization that you saw him check you out, causing his eyes to go wide for a moment before relaxing. A flush of pink tinged his cheeks cutely, causing that little color to make his eyes pop more. Letting go of his lip, he trailed his tongue over the puckered surface. He was holding something back; An internal fight with himself. God, you wanted him to just say it – to put an end to the pining. The tension, the quietness, it was too much. “I was planning on it being you that got me out of my shirt, not the cleaning products.” Cooper was nonchalant with how he spoke out, leaning against the lockers to the left of the firetruck. He used the tip of his elbow to click the garage switch – those giant doors starting to close now, putting the city away for the night so it was only you two. You were happy he did that, considering how loud the garage doors were going down, it masked the small moan you let out at his words.

You were in shock to say the least, not expecting sweet, delicate Cooper to say such a thing. I mean it was obvious you both have been playing the will they, won’t they card for months but – you thought it may have just been all in your head. “Excuse me?” You said quietly, keeping your eyes fixated on the concrete floor. You wouldn’t be able to control yourself if you looked up – your shy demeanor would fall since it was now just the two of you. There was a deeper side of yourself that was questioning all of this – if it was real, if it was in your head. It’s a fantasy to you, Cooper interested in you – a recently divorced man, bringing him back to his glory days. It wasn’t self-doubt or insecurity stopping you; You know you are beautiful, sexy, and hot – but you were afraid this was all a dream. A dream brought on by a fever or a daydream while you’re at work. But as you peered back up to meet Cooper’s attentive gaze, you knew this was real. “Honey, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Cooper spoke so plainly, like nothing else in the world mattered within that moment. Only you did, only this moment did. “I could see it, still see it actually.” He used the rag in his hand to motion to your face in a circle, licking around the inside of his lip as he tried to find the next words. Slowly the gap between the two of you started to close, the air growing thicker and thicker as his body took up the empty space. The gentle pace at which he was going spoke measures, it was delicious – he was inevitable. “Your eyes speak the words you mouth will not.” Cooper brought his clean hand up to caress your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your soft skin. You couldn’t help but to lean in, letting the warmth of his palm envelop you. “That’s…very waxing poet of you.” Your words came out like it was never a question at all or have any hesitancy behind your words. They were true, cute, and most of all – funny.

The genuine belly laugh you got from Cooper caught you off guard - getting you off into a giggle fit. Hearing him let his true self out within that laugh made everything feel okay – the heavy sexual tension was blooming with free-spirited energy and such wholesome qualities; It made you feel so good. Bowing to you, he blew you air kisses as he slicked his hair back, nudging you with his shoulder. “Thank you,” he chortled, running a hand over his five o’clock shadow. The facial hair looked so good on him; Small specks of grey littered the edges, whilst his temple held all the rest. Grey looked so good on him; the color made him youthful in a way. “You know, I did major in poetry at school.” That was a shock to you; You never saw Cooper as the writer type but – more of an engineering background. The new tidbit of information made you question everything.

“Did you now?” You asked politely, crossing your arms over your chest. Biting his lip in your direction, Cooper leaned his arm directly above your head, looking down at you. Your eyes trailed up the inseam of his arm, seeing the light-colored veins under his skin, mixed with the intoxicating smell of his cologne. Your knees trembled the slightest bit as he stood over you, examining your face with precision. His gaze was intense, shifting from hazel to black almost immediately – his pupils taking up all the color. As he went to nod his head, he changed at the last second to a shake. “No, I went to a trade school but hey – I still dabble in a bit of Shakespeare.” He shrugged, doing the shrug smile with it. Rolling your eyes, you set your vision to the calendar hanging up on the other side of the fire station, trying to calm your heart rate from the proximity of Cooper.

He could tell your heart was racing, that your spine was growing tingling with emotion. To help quell the racing you were feeling, Cooper brought his hand back to your face, caressing your cheek as his lips were only a few inches from yours. “No, but seriously, though. I see the way you look at me.” He was so matter of fact with it, he wasn’t skating around anything anymore. He knew that he needed to speak the truth, to get across to you, because this would be the only chance he had while the guys were all playing pool downtown. “I don’t mean to be forward but, it feels good.” You made Cooper feel good, a feeling everyone deserves to have. You felt the pinprick of tears in the corner of your eyes as you smiled up at him, nudging your chin out for him to touch your lips. Cooper stayed where he was, not moving an inch, causing you to grow wanton. “Feeling wanted again.”

Deep seeded emotion found its way into his eyes, the glimmer of light reflecting off showcased the unshed tears he was holding back. With the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, you knew he was close to crying. But Cooper was not going to show that – no, instead he hissed as he pulled back, clearing his throat. A whimper slipped through his parted lips, which in turn caused you to clench your bare thighs together, swallowing down hard at the sound. You tried to be inconspicuous, so Cooper didn’t see; You were thankful his eyes were turned down. “Okay, yeah this is starting to burn,” he snickered out, grabbing at the end of his t-shirt with expert precision. Cooper whipped his shirt off quickly, small bits of chemical hitting the floor as it was removed. Your eyes went wide at the sight in front of you – showing off all the hard and soft parts of Cooper’s torso you saw earlier. This time his skin was pinkened by the exposure to the cleaner, but it didn’t take away from him at all. The happy trail leading right to his belt buckle; His chest hair spread across him in the sexiest way.

Cooper grabbed a clean rag from his locker and doused it with a water bottle, groaning as the burning got more intense. The way the liquid was about to glide over his abs, made your eyes vibrate. You felt your demeanor slipping at an alarming rate, knowing you were about to cross a line you wouldn’t come back from. “Do you want me to hose you down?” Your joke was a tight delivery, considering you couldn’t stop watching Cooper run the wet towel down his stomach, soaking up any bits of the chemicals. You felt your eyes waver heavily as your arousal grew, which caused you to stare at Cooper. His own eyes were obsidian, black around all edges – a man pained with arousal. Smirking in such a sinister way, he nodded at you – flicking the wet cloth in your direction. “Depends, you going to show me what you have hiding under that coat?”

That was it for you – you knew you were never coming back. Cooper Adams metaphorically saw what you had underneath, that lacy red number you bought a while ago. You had nowhere to wear it, and no one to wear it for. But you didn’t care – it made you feel sexy, enticing, plus it was a little incentive for Cooper in hindsight. His red iPhone gave away his favorite color, and tonight he happened to be all alone. It wasn’t planned in the slightest but, you were hoping. When you saw Cooper sitting alone tonight, you hoped no one else was there. After an hour and no one, you knew it was your time to make the call. Twisting side to side in your spot, you moved forward into Cooper’s space, giving your best innocent eyes you could muster as Cooper placed his hand on your hip, smoothing the other down your arm. “You’re not as sneaky as you might think, love.” The whispered tone in which he spoke to you made your body shudder under his touch; His lips pressed sweetly to the shell of your ear, letting his plush skin rest easily against you. He could feel the tremor in your body as his lips laid a peaceful kiss to your ear, moaning slightly into you. “I wasn’t-“ you managed to start but, alas gave up halfway through.

“Oh you were, don’t be shy, darling.” His tone shifted from calm to desperate very quick – a little tease at the end to sweeten the deal. The hand that rested against your hip scooted around to your lower back, running a finger up and down your spine. The other hand resting against your arm snaked to the back of your neck, rubbing at the nape. Quickly you were pulled flush against Cooper, feeling his bulging jeans press firmly against your stomach, causing your breath to waver. His lips only inches from yours; If you tilted your head up, you would be able to just feel him and every dream he could give you. “You were hoping that tonight, of all nights, would be the time you finally got a taste of me.” He read you like a book, because this is exactly what it was. What it all looked like, it was exactly what you needed.

Cooper let both of his hands trail over your clothed body, bringing them around to your front. Each finger admired the curves on you, the soft and supple skin hiding beneath. All he could think about doing was sinking his teeth in and leaving his mark on you. The beige trench coat you wore was adorned in front by the belt – to which you had tied into a bow. Thick, calloused fingers made their way to the simple knot, gently tugging on the longer end, teasing you. Cooper’s eyes remained on your front; mouth ajar whilst the soft fabric started to sway with the tension. You had half a mind to pull yourself back, forcing him to undo it quicker but – where was the fun in that? Cooper wouldn’t have it either, no, he would make your life a living hell if you did that. This was all about the chase, never the end – but you knew it was going to be worth it.

As you were about to speak, the last of the knot fell out in front of you, leaving just the first loop around. Cooper’s agile fingers worked diligently to undo it, letting the belt fall to your side, brushing past your exposed thighs. Taking in the sight of you fully clothed, Cooper took a deep breath as he let his left-hand swing back your coat, now being able to see the glory underneath. The teddy lingerie you were wearing didn’t leave much to the imagination, in fact it gave Cooper the eyeful he had been dying for since day one. You caught his eye, being so adorable and shy, he knew he had to have you. Letting out a low wolf whistle, he took in the gorgeous sight in front of him. Breasts were uncovered due to the structure of the lingerie but held up just nicely due to the underwiring. A keyhole slit sat against the front of your stomach, highlighting its softened nature. Cooper though was drawn to the open slit between your legs where it would be covered, growing harder by the second knowing your cunt has been free this whole night.

“Well, you’d be right,” Cooper stated huskily, rubbing his thumb against the side of your breast. You gasped at the soft touch, shivering under his finger as the cold air of the firehouse nipped at your exposed skin. Everything in you broke, that small thin thread that had been holding you together – completely unraveled. Cooper didn’t waste another second as he leaned forth to capture your neck between his lips, greedily biting at your supple flesh. The moan that ripped from your throat caused Cooper to grow feral; Your back pushed against the lockers next to the firetruck, the cold in perfect contrast with your heated skin. Your hands tangled in Cooper’s soft hair, tugging at the root for him to move his lips upward. You could feel the heat of his bites against your neck, knowing you’d be wearing his mark for days.

Once your lips finally hit Cooper’s, everything you had been holding back on came to fruition. It was unlike anything you had experienced within a kiss. It wasn’t all lips, teeth, and spit like you were used to, it was primal yet possessive. It reminded of the first rainfall of Summer; The air slightly too thick as it crests, skies turning grey at the drop of a hat. But through all that muck and heat you feel it – the cold, crisp drops of rain against your bated skin, absorbing into you – becoming one. The smell around you amplifying the sensation; Goosebumps rising against your flesh as you cool from the inside out. Safe, you’re safe. You’re okay. You’re at peace. It wasn’t like a traditional kiss, it felt more. Cooper must’ve felt it too because his hands pushed you further against his lips, caressing your neck as the fingers of his left hand squeezed your breast lovingly.

He was a man on a mission, a man intoxicated by your touch, how you felt, and everything that encompassed you. He wanted to get drunk off you, and swim in that loving pool of your soul, and never surface again. For the last few months, he felt so unloved, unwanted, embarrassed because of how Rachel treated him. It made him feel insecure, like he wasn’t worthy of that kind of love. But that flew right out the window the second he got you in his hands, knowing that you weren’t going to leave – that you were going to be forever to him. It made you feel lightheaded the amount of passion Cooper was exuding towards you – like you were his lifeline in this cruel world. You brought your leg up around Cooper’s hip to get him further, wanting to feel the full, covered length of him Not wanting to tease you any longer, Cooper grabbed at your baren thigh and hiked it up higher, making sure to spread your pussy enough to feel the cold breeze.

“But I need to taste you first.” He finally spoke again, making you forget his earlier sentence. The thought of Cooper’s mouth on your cunt was enough to make you cry – you needed it bad; you needed him biblically. Nodding against his lips at his words, you placed one of your hands on his shoulder, wrapping your arm around him. Cooper grabbed at the plushness of your thigh, placing it gently onto the bench to your side as he maintained eye contact. Not once in his slow descent down did he ever look away – always keeping his eyes on you, watching how you shivered with delight. His thick fingers ran down your skin like he was starving – hungry for you and only you, bringing a part of his life back he thought was long gone.

As Cooper came face to face with your wet cunt, the reservations he had about going too fast slipped away – he was like a man starved, your folds were the only thing he needed to survive. Cooper’s mouth was only mere inches away from your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your soaked lips. Wasting not a single moment more, Cooper dove into your sweet cunt like a man starved, hungrily lapping at your puffy folds. You screamed out in pure bliss at the feeling, his tongue working your clit in harsh circles, using his two longest fingers to circle your entrance, never did he attempt to push them inside of you. It was only a mere distraction for the fact that he was sucking your clit as if it was a hard candy.

The harsh clash of his lips and the slight grazing of his teeth sent you into an overdrive. So many feelings were flooding through your body, as if ice water had been tossed all over you. It was a pure feeling nonetheless, something so brilliant and rough - you didn't want to give it up. You brought your hands up to rake through Cooper’s locks, yanking harshly at the root as your nails dug into his scalp. The growl he let out into your cunt was feral, yet animalistic. In this moment you both were not humans, but two animals in the jungle, fucking like the world was going to end. “God, you taste so fucking good.”

There was nothing soft or human-like about this, it was pure primal. Cooper’s tongue lapped and flicked over your clit like water, his eyes watching yours as your face turned up in pleasure, wails of pure bliss exiting your mouth. Cooper took you by surprise when he shoved three of his long, thick digits into the cavern of your wet cunt - plowing them in and out of you with wreck less abandon. You were not moaning anymore, you were fully screaming in ecstasy over the brutal fucking you were getting. “I’m here baby, no need for tears,” Tears fell down from your eyes with ease pass of his fingers over that spongy spot - spurring your orgasm on like it was nothing. “You’re safe. Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Come on princess, you can give it to me.”

It's then that your body jolted off of the lockers with a wail of pleasure, neck tightening as you tried too hard to remain in control. “That’s my good fucking girl, you’re squeezing the shit out of me.” Cooper’s brutal pace of his fingers and tongue did not let up, not until you were screaming the safe word. Just then he got a great idea; His fingers kept moving at a rapid speed but his mouth was replaced with his other hand - using them entire pad of his palm to rub your clit quicker. He had a better use for his mouth, placing it on the apex of your thigh, and clamping his teeth harshly around the skin. Not hard enough to break it but, enough to make a welt and bruise form. It was sexy, you've never seen a man like this. “You make me insane, you know that? I am fucking mad for you.” Cooper’s grunts - the sensation of pain mixed with pleasure as your orgasm never faded, instead only growing stronger. The flex of your lower belly came in tune with the vice-like grip of your cunt, your hands twisted smacked hard against the lockers behind you, eyes rolling into the back of your head. It was then, the floodgates broke.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” You screamed out, a new sensation to your orgasm came forth, sending you into a spiral of the unknown. It felt like a bubble burst deep within you, enough to make you scream. "That’s it babydoll, just let go." Cooper huskily let out, letting his hands work in tandem with each other. The rapid movements on your clit and g-spot made you sob into the open air, your orgasm causing your entire body to be jelly-like. “That’s a good girl, you’re so perfect. You’re everything to me.” Your brain was nonexistent, all you could hear was the sloppy wet sound of your cunt being wrung out, and Cooper’s primal growls. Looking down at Cooper, you watched as the thickness of his fingers disappearing inside of your cunt, your orgasm soaking not just his hands, but his chest and stomach - eyes black as the sky above. There were so many things you wanted to say, but could not get them out - you were too far gone to speak. Cooper saw that you were twitching aimlessly, and took it as a sign to spot. Abruptly pulling his hands from your core, Cooper shoved his fingers into his mouth, sloppily sucking them clean as you watched with fervor.

You were a mess, one you knew you weren’t going to be coming back from anytime soon. It was too much – everything that you had been wanting played out, and yet still so much more needed to be said. “Coop! Why are you still here, my dude!” The young voice brought you out of your high, causing your eyes to focus back in on Cooper’s face – the front of his chest soaked with your essence. The gentle laugh emanating from the back of the firehouse made you shy away, feeling you turn in on yourself. Cooper didn’t get what was happening at first, not until the heavy bootsteps started to come towards you, making him scramble up on cracking knees. “Shit!” He let out in a whisper, the silent scream obvious as he wasted no time to grab your jacket – holding it closed on you as the footsteps haltered. “Oh hey ma-“ The young firefighter started, looking up from his phone at the same time. What he was met with, was the image of Cooper’s front pressed against you, your face heating with arousal and nerves as you buried it into Cooper’s neck, smelling a hard days work on his skin. Cooper flashed his coworker a taut smile, waving with his freehand, hoping he wouldn’t say anything. “Oh my god did you get laid?!” He yelled out, smacking the back of his phone against his hand as you erupted into a fit of laughter. You shook in Cooper’s arms as he laughed out loud as well, realizing there was no point of hiding it now. Looking up at Cooper, you watched as he slowly nodded towards his coworker, a few unruly strands of hair falling into his face.

Without missing a beat, the firefighter came over and smacked Cooper on his bare shoulders, going to his locker directly next to you and grabbing out his backpack. “Cooper, you’re my fucking hero dude!” He yelled as he ran out through the side entrance, waving off his fire chief, leaving you both alone again. The giggle fit going through the both of you made for a fun way to decompress after having the best orgasm of your life. No man had ever made you cum so hard – so precisely as well. It was like Cooper took you apart, and rebuilt you over and over; Each wave being harder than the last. Cooper took a deep breath in as he pressed his heated forehead to yours, the flush on his cheeks working its way back. “Let’s finish this at my house. Riley and Logan are staying with their mom this weekend.” You weren’t going to pass on this opportunity – especially now that you learned the names of his kids. It was a weird feeling, for both of you. Cooper never disclosed information about his kids to anyone – only those who he deemed important. He knew you were, and were going to be in his life for a while. He could already tell by the way you carried yourself  - they were going to love you as much as he could.

Nodding your head against Cooper, you pecked him gently on the lips – lingering for a moment and just focusing on the feeling. “I’m down, let me pack a bag.” The snicker Cooper omitted at your sentence made you perk up, cocking an eyebrow in his direction. Running his warm fingers over your cheeks, he grasped your chin firmly, yet soft – peering down into your eyes. “Oh sweetheart, that’s cute,” he began, biting at his bottom lip. The swirls of colors in your eyes caused his to ignite, flecks of reds and golds flitting around in his irises. His lips grazed your lips as he smirked, licking at you while he continued. “You’re not going to need anything when I am done with you.” Cooper whispered sensually, causing your cunt to pulsate. A weekend without clothes, Cooper between your thighs – was the best way to ring in the fall.

[pipwritesoccasionally]

intruder alert (two little lines pt. 3)

in which someone tries to kidnap you and toji is furious (and worried)

toji x reader

(as usual, technically AFAB reader but I am not here to stop you if you're AMAB)

previous parts: 1 2

again, this one's less about the actual pregnancy, but it's still relevant.

wc: 1405

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

you’re at home on your lunch break, relaxing in bed, when you hear the front door open. which is odd, considering the kids are at school, and toji’s on a job. you wait for a few seconds, hoping someone will speak and enlighten you as to who exactly is in your house at twelve pm on a tuesday, but the house is silent. 

at this point, your heart is pounding, and you scramble to get under your bed, when the floor creaks under you. heavy footsteps fall downstairs, and you push yourself fully under the bed, thankful that toji had listened to you about the under-bed curtains. 

silently, you feel around for the knife your husband keeps under the bed for “safety,” grasping it firmly in hand. the footsteps draw closer, now coming right outside your bedroom door, and your other hand clamps over your mouth. 

“are you sure they’re home?” a voice you don’t recognize says, and you realize that there are multiple people in your house.  

“they have to be. the sorcerer killer is supposed to be married with kids, so his spouse has to be around here somewhere. they work from home, too.” 

the door to your bedroom slams open, and it takes everything in you to stop yourself from screaming. you look around, hoping for a way to conceal yourself, when the footsteps draw closer. your closet doors slide open, screeching against the floor, and you know that they’re looking for you. the knife handle feels cool in your hand, and you’re desperately hoping that you don’t have to use it. 

“why are we even after them anyways? can’t we just kill him?” the first person says. 

“have you not fucking heard about the people who’ve tried to kill him? besides, this is the best way to get his attention. kidnap his pregnant partner.” the second intruder’s voice is deeper that the first intruder’s, and runs a chill down your spine. 

“okay, but again, are we sure they’re home?” 

“shut up. the carpet feels warm.” the second person is now on the side of the bed where you crawled from, and your heart is pounding so loud you think they can probably hear it. 

slowly, light seeps in as a hand pulls the under-bed curtain up, and you see someone looking at you. 

“i knew you were here,” they reach for you, but you scoot away, moving to the other side of the bed. thinking fast, you climb out, only to find yourself face to face with the first intruder. so, you do the first thing you can think of and bring your knife out, slicing along his arm. 

“shit!” he hisses, but by then you’re out in the hallway, moving as fast as a pregnant person in their second trimester can. 

“no you fucking don’t!” you’re jolted back by a hand on your shirt, and the intruder grabs the knife out of your hand. 

“listen closely,” he says, bringing the knife to your throat. “you’re coming with us, or we’re going after the kids.” 

your eyes widen, and you nod as much as you can without drawing blood. he lowers the knife, grabbing your hands and pulling them behind your back. the two of you walk down the hallway to the stairs. desperately, your brain searches for ways to stop the men, but you’re stuck. 

then, you stumble upon a possibility. toji, knowing how dangerous his job is, leaves weapons everywhere. and you happen to know that he has a gun in a drawer right next to the front door. if you can just loosen the intruder’s hands a fraction, you can reach for it. 

by now, you’re at the bottom of the stairs, and you’re running out of time. you twist your wrist, bringing your right elbow up to strike at the man. he catches your elbow with his other hand, leaving his grip just loose enough to move your left hand. 

lunging, you pull the top drawer open, hand grasping the gun. you turn, pointing it at the man’s forehead. he puts both hands up, stepping back. 

“woah, woah. there’s no need to bring the gun out,” your right hand wraps firmly around your left, and you’re hoping that the two men can’t see how much you’re trembling. 

“last words. now.” over the course of your relationship, you’ve seen toji in work-mode enough times to know how to intimidate someone. at least, you hope so. 

“like i said, there’s no need to bring the gun out,” the man repeats, and you click the safety off. 

“i will fucking shoot,” you steady your hands, though internally you feel like crying. who were you kidding? you can’t take a life. 

your dilemma must show on your face, because the intruder steps forward again, forehead flat against the barrel. 

“then do it.” out of the corner of your eye, you see his hands twitch, and you slam the gun into the side of his head. his knees buckle and he falls, head hitting the ground with a reverberating thud. the other man, who is standing at the foot of the stairs, eyes wide. you point the gun at him, but you know that it’s useless. 

he takes one step forward, before he is thrown towards the wall like a ragdoll. 

there in the doorway is your husband, chest heaving and a piercing glare. 

“babe? what are you doing home?” you ask, lowering your gun. the adrenaline is starting to wear off, and your entire body is shaking. 

“unimportant. who the fuck are these men?” he makes his way over to you, hands cupping your shoulders. his eyes sweep your figure, trying to gauge whether you’re hurt. you slouch your entire body into him, hearing his pounding heart through his chest. 

“intruders. they broke in and tried to kidnap me.” your husband freezes, pushing you back. he reaches for the gun in your hand, but you hold it behind your back. 

“the kids will be home soon.” he sighs, but retracts his hand nonetheless. your elementary age stepkids do not need to see dead bodies. 

“we need to at least move them outside. can’t have them anywhere near you or the baby,” his thumb caresses your swollen belly, eyes softening just a bit. 

“okay,” you reply softly, cupping his face. he nuzzles his cheek in slightly, eyebrows furrowing. 

“i could’ve lost you,” he whispers, and you shake your head. 

“you would’ve found me. you always do.” 

“that’s my job, doll. now, why don’t we go get the kids from school? it should be almost over now.” you nod, but a groan behind you makes you jump. your husband is in front of you in an instant, kneeling in front of the man. 

“listen closely. you’re lucky my kids are on their way home, or else you’d be a dead man.” he nods rapidly, slowly standing up next to your husband. toji doesn’t even have to say another word as the man walks to his colleague’s slouched form and picks him up. the two intruders run out the door, and you hear their car pull away. finally, you can breathe a sigh of relief, and come to stand next to your husband. his hands are clenched into fists, and you wrap both your hands around his right one. 

“come on, we have to get the kids.” you take a step, but are drawn back against his chest. his warm hand wraps around yours, and he brings your right hand up, planting a kiss on your palm. 

“are you okay?” your voice comes out soft, loving. 

“i just need a moment,” he replies, eyes glazing over with tears.

“okay. we can take as long as you need.” 

to say that toji isn’t always the most affectionate man would be an understatement, but it’s in these moments that he really, truly, shows you that you mean the world to him. you know that he needs a moment to put his tough-guy-bravada back on, and you also know that you will still love him, with or without it. 

you also know that he doesn’t want to worry the kids, and so you’ll wait as long as it takes for him to feel better. 

after all, you probably needed time to digest the events of the day too.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

bonus:

"i do have to mention that you look fucking hot when you're angry, doll."

"that's kind of concerning babe."

[luveline]

ooh yay okay short blurb idea!! stevie comforting anxious!reader with back rubs? I feel like he gives the best calming back rubs ever!!! need him to help me w my anxiety :( 🤍🤍🤍

It's not that Steve's presence alone can stave off your anxiety, he's not a miracle, though he is miraculous, but it doesn't take long without him to fall into unhappy thoughts. He leaves to shower and you worry about everything one ache at a time, hands braced on your knees, begging your body to just let it go this time. Just this one time. 

You listen to the shower running, glad for the noise to hide your breath as it begins to wind, but Steve is quick. A minute later he's turning off the water, and a minute after that he's propping open the door to the ensuite to let out the hot air. His hair is still dry. He only wanted a refresher after the hot weather. 

You squeeze at nothing, your hands aching from the scrunch and unscrunching of your fingers. Steve must sense it, your quiet hurting, because he looks up with that resigned concern already lining his mouth, lips pulled down into an unfortunate frown. 

"Hey," he says, pulling the last sock on, "I'll be right there." 

The distance between you is relatively small and huge nonetheless. "It's okay," you say. 

You're wheezing. Steve's eyebrows furrow, and he grabs his glasses off of the night table as he sits down beside you. They slip down his damp nose and fog a little from the heat of his skin, which is a nice distraction until you realise it's a distraction. 

"Can I touch you?" he asks quietly. 

You nod quickly. Sometimes the panic is too much, and anyone's touch feels like a burn, but right now it's the one thing you want. Steve slides right up to your side, thigh to thigh, elbow to elbow. He slides the arm closest to you behind your back to hold you, and the other comes over his lap to your leg, where he squeezes the soft fat of your inner thigh. 

"What is it?" he asks. 

"I think…" you breathe in until your chest feels like it'll pop. "An attack." 

"Okay," he says, pulling you that last bit closer. You're like one person.

You lean forward away from him without thinking. Steve doesn't follow, but his hand tracks a heavy weight on your back. He starts to draw as he usually does when this happens, long fingers and a soft palm roving up the length of your spine and down again, filling the dip of your back as his voice melds to a whisper. "It's okay. We have to ride it out, that's all. You know that already. Keep breathing, babe." 

You cover your face with your hands. Steve makes a small sorry sound and takes your wrist, pulling your hand from your mouth.  

"Just breathe, honey." 

It's not easy. Not as simple as just, but you breathe. Steve's hand is dutiful and loving as it goes, tracing the same path over and over again. He whispers every now and then when you hold your breath or show signs of cracking, and when your eyes fill with tears his touch turns especially tender. 

People forget how full of love Steve is. He wants to love people, even if he does get annoyed at everything. Everything, and yet never at this. This is where his patience lies. 

Your back starts to feel ticklish from his touching. It works better than intended, one uncomfortable feeling replacing the other slowly. Steve puts his second hand on your chest to feel your pulse, his pinky finger sliding under the neckline of your shirt. He counts under his breath. 

"Good," he murmurs, pulling out his hand. "Good job, baby. You're okay." 

The attack ends, the shaky aftermath begins. You feel weak from hyperventilation, hands still shaking. Steve wraps you up in his arms now you're in no danger of suffocation to hold you together, pulling your face to his neck, his cheek turned from you as he sighs in relief. "You're okay," he says again. "That was a sudden one, huh? You okay?" 

You manage a soft laugh. "I thought you already decided." 

"It's two different okays." He rubs the top of your shoulder with his thumb, leaving warmth in his wake. "I know from your heart that you're okay, but are you okay? You know. What do you need me to do?" 

You hug him weakly. "Nothing. I don't need… Thank you, Steve." He's done more than you could ever ask for. 

"You're welcome," he says, kissing your cheek twice, his words warm and quiet against your skin. "Don't mention it. Just glad you're feeling better." 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you write headcannons for Smoke and Bihan with their s/o who's overworked themselves to the point where they hardly get sleep and barely eat?

Tomas Vrbada

He’s naturally going to be concerned about your well being the moment you rejected food and or sleep on multiple occasions across a period of time.

Tomas understood that your work was important that that you’ll have a fair few nights where you went without sleep or eating, but he quickly draws the line when he could start to visibly see the physical toll your overworking tendency has taken. You could barely stand on your own two fucking feet without constantly shifting your stance, as your eyes struggled to stay open and the dark begs beneath them got worse.

To Tomas no job was worth someone’s health and well-being and this job certainly wasn’t worth yours in the slightest. Your work be damned but he wasn’t about to watch you slowly deteriorate overtime, whilst he’s stuck stood at the sidelines, knowing deep down that he could stop this before it becomes too late to make change.

‘Why?’ You asked when Tomas asked you to take some time off from work, biting back a yawn, thinking you were slick. ‘I’m in the middle of something important for work and I have to cover for two long shifts later this week, seeing as my coworker had dropped them on a extremely short notice…again.’ You muttered the last bit under your breath but Tomas heard it as though you were speaking at a normal volume.

‘That!’ He pretty much exclaimed before composing himself and sat beside you at your desk, taking one of your hands in his whilst his thumb rubbed your skin soothingly. ‘Look I get that you love this job and want to build a career for yourself, which I’m all for but,’ he looks into your eyes where you saw just how worried he was, ‘I don’t want to stand by and watch you destroy yourself for a job that doesn’t commemorate all you’ve done for them.’

Tomas rested his forehead against yours, his heart melting when he saw how easily you learn into his warmth. ‘So please, take a break, sleep and for my sake please eat because I can’t bear to watch you destroy yourself for others who don’t value you like I do.’ He whispered against your lips. ‘I see the effort you put in but there has to come a time where you must walk away from situations that don’t benefit you.’ You sat on his words and allowed yourself to feel just how exhausted, how heavy with fatigue your body was that you could barely lift a finger.

Tomas was right, like he always was, maybe a break wouldn’t be so bad if it meant you could cuddle into him and indulge in his cooking as much as your stomach could handle.

Yeah, that sounds way better than working.

‘Okay.’ You said softly. ‘I’ll call in tomorrow.’

‘No need, I already told them that you’d be taking a break and to not be contacted until you feel like you’re ready to go back in.’ Tomas admitted and you couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Unbelievable.’ You teased, only to yawn soon after before nestling yourself again him. ‘But I’m not complaining if it means I get to annoy you for the next few days.’

Tomas was the one the chuckle this time and kisses the top of your head. ‘Jokes on you, I love having you annoy me. Now get to sleep, baby. You’re more than deserving of it.’

Bi-Han

I see him as the kind of person to do the same but I could be wrong. He just strikes me as the type to not properly take care of himself, ya know? That’s just my opinion.

Bi-Han runs himself into the ground to become stronger for himself and for the future survival of the Lin Quei but the moment you begin to run yourself into the ground for other people at your place of work? He becomes the biggest hypocrite known to man.

So he wouldn’t think much of it at first but the more it happened, the more it became apparent to Bi-Han that something was wrong, very wrong and he needed to step in.

He finds your desire to make a career for yourself admirable but not like this, you don’t get respect from the people who’ll never understand the importance of a hard days work. In Bi-Han’s, everyone else should strive to earn your respect for the shit you put yourself through. Seeing as you weren’t given no thanks for your efforts, but instead countless more expectations to pick up your coworkers slack.

So I wouldn’t put it past Bi-Han to demand that you take a break, Grandmaster’s orders and all that.

‘Bi-Han I can’t just take a break! I’ve got important work to do-‘

‘Work that isn’t yours to complete.’ Bi-Han interrupted but he was right, you had finished your work in advance and now multiple people at work suddenly claimed that they had other obligations to do theirs, thus pulling them onto you instead with nothing other then fake smiles and even faker gratitude.

Curse your people pleasing tendencies!

You sighed, rubbing at your aching eyes that have only seemed to have gotten worse over the course of the past couple of days. ‘Then what do you suggest I do? Not finish them and let them bitch at me for their lack of responsibilities?’ You asked rhetorically, knowing that with Bi-Han, you’ll never win this argument as he always has something to back up his claims.

And besides you were too tired to argue against something that you both knew was true, it wasn’t your work to finish and so by that logic, no blame would befall you entirely. At least you hoped not.

‘It is due to their lack of responsibility that has caused you this fatigue, beloved. They’re more then deserving of the punishment.’ Bi-Han said. ‘You shouldn’t hold yourself responsible for other people’s decisions nor destroy yourself into looking reliable to your peers. You’re better than them, more resilient, dependable, hard working, determined but most of all; you take responsibility for any and all of your decisions applicably.’ Bi-Han sat back at his chair and gestured to the food before the both of you that had yet to be touched. ‘But now it’s time you rest and eat as much as you possibly can.’

[headkiss]

I feel like I’m in withdrawal from ur Hotch stories!! I would love some sort of blurb w protective Hotch and BAU reader if ur taking requests for him!! Any scenario I honestly don’t even care I just love hurt/comfort w my guy

babe!!! not withdrawal!!!! thank u so much for requesting <3 i hope u like it | 0.7k fluff, teeny mention of blood

Hotch tries to stay calm on the job. He has to, really, to be as successful as he is. It’s hard with the things he sees, the things he hears. Even harder when you’re about to go and do something dangerous when he’s not there to help.

You’re the only one at the scene right now, and even though he’s trying to convince you not to, you’re about to go inside and catch the guy.

“We aren’t far,” he tells you.

“I know,” there’s a shout in the background, and his heart sinks ‘cause he knows what that means. “I gotta go in.”

Hotch utters your last name, concern, something like desperation buried under his firm tone.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, and then you’re hanging up.

“Garcia,” Hotch knows she’s on the other line, and he knows she’ll find him a shortcut without instruction because she’s great at her job and even better at knowing what people need.

“I’m on it,” she tells him, and then she’s rattling off turns to make through alleys to get to you quicker.

The unknown is the worst part, Hotch thinks. If he was there, at least he could be sure that you’re alright. He doesn’t doubt your skills, not for a second, but when it comes to you, he doesn’t seem to think so rationally. All he feels is the pounding in his chest that won’t slow until he knows you’re okay.

By the time he makes it, there are cop cars outside, flashes of blue and red paint the dark street where everyone’s parked. His tires screech to a stop, and he leaves the car parked and running when he gets out. There’s a cop pushing the guy into the car, another nodding at Hotch as he walks by.

And finally, finally there’s you, sitting in the back of an ambulance with a bandage on your forehead.

He all but runs over, his hands finding your jaw to tilt your face up towards him in a way that certainly isn’t professional but he isn’t really worried about that right now. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t even need stitches,” you tell him.

“You’re bleeding.”

You sort of melt at his worry, at the almost unnoticeable shine in his eyes that you only see because you’re looking so closely. Hotch doesn’t have to say it with words, because it’s written all over him, the delicate hold he has on your jaw, the way his thumb draws a small pattern over your skin. Back and forth, back and forth. He cares about you.

“I’m fine, Hotch,” you say again, because he’s still looking at the bandage on your head with a furrow in his brows.

“You should have waited.” He doesn’t mean it, but he still says it. He knows this is the job, he knows it was the right call, but he should’ve been there.

“You would’ve done the same thing.”

“I know.”

His eyes still won’t meet yours, so you grab one of his wrists in your hand, squeezing it once, twice, three times.

“Aaron,” your voice saying his name is enough, Hotch’s eyes flick down and lock on yours, “I’m okay. No stitches, no concussion, just a little cut, alright?”

His fingers are still on your skin, calluses trailing down your neck until his hands are on your shoulders. There’s a trail of warmth that follows his touch, your eyes fluttering, your breath slowing.

He nods, “you’re okay.” It’s so quiet that he’s saying it to himself, even though you catch it. He repeats it, “you’re okay.”

Neither of you are thinking about the fact that you’re in public, that the team is probably watching you both and sharing looks with each other because they can see the feelings you and Hotch both have for each other clear as day. They are profilers, after all.

Hotch is only focused on you, and you’re focused on him and his hands and the sort of affection that’s rare from him, but speaks enough volumes to last a long, long time.

“I got the guy, didn’t I?” You say, trying to lighten the mood despite the circumstances.

“You did good,” he tells you, and the praise has something soaring in your chest.

You shrug, shoulders moving under his hands. “I learned from the best.”

And when you’re back on the plane, your head resting on Aaron’s shoulder where you’d fallen asleep, he doesn’t care one bit about the smirks he’s getting from the team.

He simply shakes his head at them, fighting a smile as he turns back to his paperwork.

[promisetobedazzlinggg]

ateez and when you get back together

-> pt 2 of maknae line's 'ateez and when they know they need you back'

-> requested

-> also this one's kinda long and some are disproportionately sized... mb guys I kinda got carried away at times

-> also, I put the song inspo beneath each one. mingi's one couldn't make me think of anything but taylor and there's a few references in both parts. all the ts songs are angsty but it's all happy endings <3

-> TW: SH IN JONGHO'S PART!!!

-> SAN

(the one - taylor swift) only certain parts are accurate but ehh

San has waited. He has waited and cried for so long and misses you more than ever but how could you ever return to him after he has waited for months instead of running after you from the moment your door closed. Thus, he has resolved to do anything and everything he can to get you back if he ever sees you or hears from you again. It was a lucky day, the second most lucky of his life, when he passed by a cafe and noticed the back of someone that looked just like you standing just inside. He would never forget the way you looked even though you changed and anyone could see it: your style, the warmth in your smile, even the way you interacted with people when he watched you. It slaps him hard across the face that he's waiting again, breaking another promise, but he knows you don't want to make a scene in public, so perhaps it is truly best to wait outside where he can briefly pulll you into the adjacent alley and beg. When you leave- nerve-racking, heart-stopping minutes later, he briefly touches your hand so you notice him and he continues with his plan. You notice him and he tugs at the sleeve of your jacket towards the alley. He confesses his sins as you're his queen, his angel, divine, and begs for them to be forgiven. He would even beg for just another minute with you sorry I have a thing for desperate men. Tears prick at both of your eyes and you whisper, voice cracking (San still finds it to be the most beautiful sound in the world), to talk about it somewhere else. He guides you to a car, opens the door for you, and you drive to your new address. Once you're both in your living room, San immediately drops to his knees once more and he fights the urge to cry. He must keep his composure if he is to have you; the times when he lost it are the times that caused you to go. The apartment is too small to be cozy and too simple to have any distinct or noticeable aesthetics, you never had a job that paid quite like his, inevitably drawing the two of you apart when he accused you of being a gold-digger. You never asked for his wallet, his cash, his credit card, for him to pay for anything, and now he would do everything for you to ask him for anything (except to leave). He pleads, apologizes, offers everything he has but you're hesitant. What breaks his heart the most is that he can understand why. He confesses his love in the form of simple "I love you"s and when he sees that you feel guilt for turning him into a broken record he immediately takes accountability and reminds you that this is all his fault. "One chance." San swears it will be the only one he ever needs.

-> MINGI

(down bad - taylor swift)

(back to december - taylor swift)

Mingi is shitfaced again. He feels too guilty after having all the other members deal with him when he's like this to ask them but he's starting to realize that alcohol doesn't empty how he's so filled with memories of you but fills him with more sorrow, more guilt. He ended it. He told you that you were better off but it's plain to see to anyone else that even past all the criticism you two received, it never made you two more miserable than you are now that you're apart from each other. His drunken stupor can only think of you, of calling you, of asking you to save him, but he can never forget how you shouldn't have to play savior for his own mistakes. Perhaps he's made a new record, though, and he dials it. Your number is another thing he refuses to ever forget. He begs something incoherent and hangs up. After all, it already went to voicemail. After 10 minutes of debating, however, you hear it out. Or whatever it's supposed to be. All you manage to get out of it is that Mingi needs help, encouraging you to drive to his place, use the key you were never able to let go of, open the door, and find him lying face-down on the floor. You get him to sit up but he's in too dazed of a state to understand what's going around him. A little more alcohol could've been dangerous. He's going to throw up quite a bit sometime soon, so you force a bit of water into his system and drag him to the bathroom. He proceeds to throw up immediately and for the next little while. He promptly falls asleep after finishing and you change his shirt into something more comfortable before tucking him into bed. You had already resolved to sleep on the couch but you prepare a bit of medicine and put it by his bed for when he wakes up. Upon hitting the couch, reality hits you again: it's your first time seeing him since he ended things and it's because he got incredibly drunk. You know you don't deserve this. You know you shouldn't have to help a guy who did nothing but hurt the two of you. Seeing how he's acting lately and how desperate that voicemail was, however, maybe he knows it's the biggest mistake of his fucking life, too. It takes another hour of you crying and pondering this before you fall asleep. The last time on the clock you were awake for read 2:00 AM. When you wake up, however, Mingi is resting somehow both feverishly and lethargically on the seat in front of you with a very, very simple breakfast in front of you both. Considering the headache he must have now, though, it's rather impressive that he managed to do anything at all, let alone for the two of you, but you resist a smile. When he sees you're awake, he moves to hold you before hesitating and retracting his touch back. Before he can speak, however, you ask him something. "Have me back?" You've never seen someone with a hangover light up so fast and so brightly.

-> WOOYOUNG

(hits different - taylor swift)

Wooyoung made the first step to chase after what he broke (you and your relationship) when he comes across a you talking to a guy on the street. You don't notice him but he goes straight home and throws up. The idea of you moving on is more repulsive than any of his memories, so he purchases all your favorite sweets and sends a photo of them to you. He knows you never blocked his number and he deludes himself into believing he has another chance through that. He apologizes an uncountable number of times but he still doesn't have the balls to beg for you to love him again in person. He knows it's not fair to you, especially if his eyes didn't deceive him earlier, after all, telling how much he needs you upon seeing that you're moving on is yet another reminder of what an asshole he is. He will fix himself- he'll change any and all aspects of himself as many times as he needs if it will make you want him again. He tells you this and he loves that it's the same answer you would have given him before he fucked up- that you love his current self more than any other. You were with your brother before and even though you don't forgive him, you'll give it another shot if you start as friends. He will accept anything you give him graciously, so he is ecstatic at this outcome and he goes to your place as fast as possible

-> JONGHO

(the manuscript - taylor swift)

Jongho finds it hard to believe that you could be as affected by the breakup as much as he is until he sees you in a bookstore and you reach for the top shelf to grab a book on biology (he knows it's something you read about whenever you're stressed). He doesn't fight the recollection of how it ended, how he was stressed about a comeback and you had a shitty family to deal with and how he told you terrible things and to never come back. What nails in the coffin is his memories of how you used to cut yourself. They were from long before you met him and only on your left arm. When the sleeves fell a bit, it seemed like your right arm was decorated a bit, too. Nothing before had washed over him so painfully as it did then and he couldn't stop himself from going to you and begging for you to let him do anything and everything his power to help you get better, for those scars to fade. He offers his wallet for the most expensive therapy in Seoul, his arms if you need to be held, his heart if it feels like yours is stopping, his smile if you need something to be a bit bright while surrounded by dullness. You tell him you just want him. Everything is better in his arms, you always feel safer in his hoodies.

I hope y'all liked it!! I'm gonna start working on hyung line soon but sfw requests (again, for skz and atz) are open <333

[kedreeva]

Went to see "Twisters" tonight and it was thoroughly enjoyable!

Some spoilers below the cut

Okay first of all, I'm extremely excited to say that they don't push a love triangle despite there being a girl MC and two main guys. One of them is an old friend who remains firmly an old friend, with no indication that he has romantic feelings. Like they get to be actual friends!!!!! And the other, while potentially a love interest, had just as much potential to be a friend instead, and in an extremely important (to me) way they do not kiss! I was shocked, actually. I expected them to pull out a "gotta have a kiss to appease the amatonormative folks" but nope! Not even in the little mid credit blurb. He stays the night at her childhood home with her and nothing happens. Like not even an awkward moment of tension, they don't even show them going to bed I don't think.

And I feel this to my bones, she was allowed to be the star. She changed her old friend's mind and gave him a chance to choose doing the right thing and he did it because he cared about her opinion of him and wanted to be who she thought he was. And the other guy found out she had dreams/goals of doing something and instead of taking them or doing it for her, he said what can I do to help you, and she chose to let him help her. It was so softly done!! And this guy, he was a full on attention hound with a YouTube channel and loves showing off and he's taking a press guy into the storms to do a story about how awesome he is at tornado wrangling. But when it comes down to it, he tells the reporter she's the real story AND SHE IS!! The article gets written about her instead!

The beginning was. A lot. You get introduced to the storm hunting group, and then immediately 3 of the 5 get killed and the MC almost does, all because she miscalculated. But you know what? She a) keeps her trauma and b) continues doing meteorology stuff, just from a safer distance. Like it's very clear that tornadoes are still this girl's passion, something she loves with every fiber of her being, but she's also been traumatized by losing her boyfriend and two of her closest friends (not to mention her dream project) and nearly her life, in one go. And even still it is something she literally can't stay away from, she still takes a job involved with them through data analysis, and you can practically feel it killing her at the start. The way she lights up at the mention of studying them more closely like she had wanted to, and that excitement immediately chased out by fear. It was nicely done.

They did a really nice thing with the music as well- PERFECTLY captured that kind of moment where the rest of the world drops away and all you can perceive for a moment or two is this thing you love so much it feels like time stops to let you love it more. Except she's looking at weather. At winds moving or clouds or tornadoes. Which is so cool of them to have done for her. This girl loves one thing and it's fuckin WEATHER.

The "villain" of the story is understated and they really don't waste time going into detail about it, which is great because the MC isn't really interested in finding out more about the real estate mogul capitalizing on the devastation. She just doesn't want her friend working for them anymore. She finds out he is, she draws a line in the sand and tells him he should be doing the right thing not the easy thing, and her friend takes her objection seriously and alters his behavior. And that's all the more they really get into that side of the story. Why waste time on it when there's more tornadoes to show? This movie did what Godzilla: King of Monsters failed to do- showed us the monster as much as possible and actually I do care about the people still because none of their problems were irrelevant, none of them were problems for the sake of having problems.

Anyway this movie was enjoyable to me. If you like weather phenomena, storm chasing, chaos, and actually interesting interpersonal relationships, go have a watch!

[jojo-schmo]

hi jojo! im just wondering but ive been wanting to make a comic for a little while but im not too sure where to start 😅. i really love your style of art and your forgotten land roleswap, and i was wondering if you had any tips for beginners?

Hello, hello! Thank you for enjoying my Forgotten Land Roleswap comic, it means a lot! <3

I'm very honored that people have been asking me for tips and advice. All of this is coming from a hobbyist who draws these comics purely for fun outside of my regular day job. Some of my methods would probably deal psychic damage to a professional, LOL. But I'm more than happy to share some things I've personally learned! :)

First of all, the book, "Understanding Comics" by Scott McCloud ROCKS. It literally gave me a new dimension to understand the medium of comics and how it presents ideas and emotions to readers! And I haven't even had the chance to finish it all the way! I'm very happy I own a copy and I recommend having one of your own if you can, but it's archived here if you want to read it :D

I also like analyzing other comics and thinking about how they get information across to me as a reader. It's helped me learn more effective ways to visually tell a story, like what to include in a frame, how zooming in or out affects the feeling from the panel, maybe building a scene by focusing on other stuff if someone is talking a lot... etc.

ANYWAYS-! Some other tips I've learned through my personal experience-

I had to overcome a lot of negative self-talk in order to tackle a huge comic project like this and stay committed. I was a pretty severe self-deprecator for most of my life so far, and getting help has allowed me to catch myself when I'm slipping back into those habits, look in the mirror, and go, "NO, JOJO! You pour your heart into what you make and that is a wonderful thing! You are appreciated and loved and you deserve to have fun making something you are passionate about!!" Some examples of the negative self-talk I catch myself in....

"I'm a noob at writing and making a story interesting... What's the point of even trying?"

When it comes to starting a project, whether it's 2 pages or 2000 pages, is to just jump in and start! It's okay to be a little insecure or nervous about your technical art skills, writing skills, etc... But writing a "bad" scene is better than no scene- because you can always edit a "bad" scene down the line, but what can you do with nothing? Nothing!! I also put "bad" in quotation marks because I am trying to use that term less, and instead call them "early drafts." or "works in progress."

The first Roleswap scene I fleshed-out was the first Bandee boss fight, in May 2022. I made this drawing on an impulse, getting my ideas down on the page without thinking about the technical stuff like comic panel borders. I consider it like a "pilot episode" almost, haha. The final project is going to be very different from how things play out here. But it got me interested in the concept and excited to see where I could take it, and I made the decision to commit to an entire game plot's worth of AU comics!!

Also, what's the point in trying you ask? The point is to have fun! Making a fan comic in my free time means I don't have restrictions like deadlines, nobody's telling me what I can and can't write, and I can make the story as long or as short as I want! I have full control, which means the world I'm writing is all mine to create! Yes, with a fan comic there is a pre-established world with existing characters. But a universe like Kirby has enough open-ended concepts for people to take basic concepts in the world and take them to whole new levels! I think that's why there are so many amazing fan interpretations of Kirby characters and OCs. The rules are so vague, you can just make up your own a lot of the time!! And it's a wonderful exercise to learn skills for someday building an original world with all original characters from scratch! Magical!!!

"I'm not good enough to make a comic. I don't understand perspective or color and other stuff. Anything I make will look bad.

I once read a two panel comic on here. I can't find it anymore but I remember most of it. First panel showed the artist looking at what they're drawing on their tablet, looking defeated and sad. "Man, I don't even know how to draw this....."The next panel was like them smiling and shrugging, I think rainbows and sparkles were coming out of their tablet, ".....I GUESS I'LL JUST HAVE TO DRAW IT SHITTY!! :D "

IF ANYONE KNOWS THIS COMIC I'M REFERENCING, PLEASE TELL ME AND I'LL LINK IT!!! Because it permanently and positively changed my brain chemistry.

No kidding, making the decision to just do my best even if it's not perfect, helped me a LOT. I was always waiting to "reach a certain level" to tackle a huge project because I felt like I'd never do it justice at my current state. Except I had been telling myself that kind of stuff for years and I still didn't start any projects!!

So the day I said, "Oh well! If I draw backgrounds shitty, then it is what it is! I'll learn from it and draw the next background a little better," Was the day I could commit fully to the project. I'll keep studying how to draw them better for my own benefit, but I won't let my skill issues stop me from even trying!

And for my limited confidence in full-color art, I solved that by making the comic in black and white with no-to-minimal shading lolol. Because I can only address one skill issue at a time before it takes me 25 years to finish this HAHAHA.

It saves a BUNCH of time to work with skill issues rather than against them! Because at least experience is gained in other ways, and who knows, maybe that new knowledge will help address the skill issues someday! So identifying your personal skill issues and deciding which one to try to grow stronger, and which one to work around, could help with big projects!

"Nobody will read this. I'm going to put months or years of my life into a dumb little thing nobody will even care about."

Learning how to draw for my own enjoyment instead of somebody else's was one of the biggest breakthroughs I ever made. Enjoying the feeling of being challenged artistically and just doing my best, even if it's not technically perfect, is the reason why I was even able to start this!

And just because someone doesn't directly like, comment or whatever on a post doesn't mean nobody saw it! I used to get really down on myself for the lack of engagement on my art on other websites.

I was a lurker for pretty much my entire teenage years and never posted my own stuff or commented much. But that didn't take away the fact that I really enjoyed the things I saw online. Those positive feelings were real to me, even when I didn't know how to articulate it in words. Granted, I grew up into a Words of Affirmation main, and I use words to tell people the positive things I think about them as much as I can! But I know not everyone prefers words to express themselves. So I think about the people that I don't know enjoy my work- that just because I don't see it doesn't mean I didn't make a positive impact on someone by sharing my stories.

THIS IS GETTING LONG-- UHHH, STORY TIPS!!

If you work best on technology, start building the story in a Notes app, or a Google Doc! If you work best with pen and paper, start a notebook and rearrange stuff as you need to!

Or if you're chaotic like me, a mix of tech and paper!! I bought a notebook with ring binding so I can remove and rearrange pages of drafts as much as I wanted to! Like here's two very rough concept pages of one Chapter 1 scene made months apart.

I'd say planning out the biggest basic plot points and then filling in between as I went was most helpful! I also have separate notes for character motivations, important story-changing events, etc... So I can have my own reference when I'm writing new scenes!

Okay this was a lot, sorry about the yapping! Hopefully it helps even a tiny bit. If you have any specific questions I'm happy to talk about my experience in the creation process! Or elaborate on anything I said above.

And finally, because I'm not a professional there are probably plenty of other tactics that could work better for some people. My ADHD probably doesn't help with the chaos of my process either, HAHA. But thank you for reading this far and enjoying the peek into the rainbow glitter and soap bubbles that inhabit the right side of my brain, heehee.

[glossdebut]

Take a Bite Ch. 1

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: social drinking, mechanical bull-related injuries lol

✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.7k so far

✧ STATUS: ongoing

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: hi! i'm aqua and this is my first ever fic so please be nice!! i will be crossposting this work and all future works on my ao3 of the same name. i'm figuring out how this works as i go, so please be patient with me. tags are subject to change with every update. i won't have a posting schedule for this one, but i have the first few chapters pre-written, so expect an update sometime next week!

Chapter 1: Lay Your Cards Down, Down, Down, Down

Although this is the furthest thing from your scene, you can’t help but think to yourself that you should invest in some cowboy boots. You could make them work, you’re sure of it.

Even if you know you would never pull the trigger on purchasing any, too far out of the comfort zone of your normal style, the thought is the only thing keeping you sane—that, and the sound of Cowboy Carter blasting through the speakers of the bar, a welcome reprieve from the drawling, boring country anthems you’d been suffering through for the past hour or so. 

You pride yourself on seeing the merit in all genres of music, you do. You were always the type of person who puffed up her chest when you told people ‘I listen to everything,’ uncaring of how pretentious it may sound. You mean it. It’s an asset in your line of work, and as far as you’re concerned, a little bit of pretentiousness is a small price to pay for the, quite frankly, baller route your fledgling career is heading in. 

But a Western bar? Not the kind of place you’d spend a precious Friday night willingly. Another hazard of the job.

After months of skillfully avoiding the weekly Friday nights out with the other rookie reporters at the magazine, you’d run out of excuses not to join them. If four years studying communications taught you anything, it was that connections are everything in the journalism business. Even more so where the music industry is concerned.

So here you are, at your fourth stop of your night of bar hopping with your extroverted and extremely drunk coworkers, nursing warm beer and observing from the least populated corner you managed to scout upon entry. All things considered, you had been a good sport at the three previous stops. You just draw the line at square dancing with the people you work with. College may have beaten your fear of impromptu phone calls and talking to strangers out of you, but your social battery can only take so much. 

Your phone battery, too, you think bitterly as you stare down at the low battery warning on your screen. Okay, so you’ll finish your shitty beer (because you’re not quite successful enough yet to afford wasting alcohol that you’re paying for) and then use your phone’s remaining juice to catch an Uber home. No biggie.

You’re in the middle of turning off your phone with full intent to work out the kinks of your exit strategy when you realize, with irritation, that your chosen corner is about to be invaded.

Your eyes land on a pair of black Dunks ( in a Western bar? your mind supplies, as if you have any room to judge in your Docs) and travel up, past torn black jeans and a black shirt, and just when you’re sensing a theme with this guy, your eyes reach a head of (regrettably, very nice) black hair and a pair of the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen. Anish Kapoor would wail at the sight of these eyes, you think.

As if sensing your apprehension, your corner-thief raises his free hand (the other clutching a plastic cup of his own) palm out, as if to say ‘I come in peace’ and stops in his tracks.

“I can find another spot,” corner-thief says, the low rumbling of his voice barely audible above Texas Hold ‘Em. “I’m just waiting for one of my friends to get bored or injured so I can leave.”

“Injured,” you repeat, despite your better judgment to take him up on his offer and let him be on his way. But your phone is dead and you’re a little bit drunk, bored, and even for an unwanted partner in social evasion, this guy is nicer to look at than the frat guys playing beer pong you’ve been observing for the better part of an hour.

Corner-thief grins a stupidly charming gummy smile, leaning just the slightest bit closer to be heard better but still keeping a respectful distance. As if he’s still wary that you’ll lunge at him if he encroaches on your space any further. Good man.

“There’s a mechanical bull upstairs,” he says, using his index finger on the hand holding his cup to point at the ceiling above you both.

Of course there is. With your luck, you’ll also have to peel someone off of the floor later after going head-to-head with the bull.

“Not your thing?” you guess, glancing pointedly at his Jordans, and he shakes his head, huffing through his nose in what you can only guess is a laugh.

“No, I wouldn’t say so.” 

He pauses, shifting from foot to foot for a moment before speaking again. “So, will you share your wall? I can look around again but this place is more packed than I would’ve pegged it for.”

You nod and he smiles again thankfully, taking the spot on the wall next to you. That should be it. Two strangers who don’t want to be here standing in companiable silence next to each other while they wait for their friends–or coworkers, in your case–to put them out of their misery and let them go home.

But… You consider your options, your phone taking its dying breath in your pocket, and you sigh, turning to him.

“Y/N,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake. 

He takes it with his free hand, giving you an amused look. “Yoongi.”

“What’s that look for?”

He laughs again, a little bit more this time, and your heart does a stupid, funny thing. “I don’t think I’ve ever been greeted by a pretty girl in a bar with a handshake,” he says, causing you to flush and pull your hand away as if it’d been burned, your shoulders tensing as you take a sip of your beer. 

A western bar certainly isn’t your scene, but admittedly, neither are bars or clubs in general. You got all of that out of your system in college where everyone was awkward as fuck or too drunk to care that you were, and ever since you got your degree you have lived and breathed your work. Your social skills were never quite up to par, but you didn’t realize you were this fucking embarrassing.

“I came out with coworkers right after we got off, so I think I’m still kind of in work mode,” you lie, and as if sensing that you feel slightly made fun of, Yoongi shakes his head.

“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, swear,” he says, tilting his head at you. Dark eyes considering you. “Honestly, I’m thankful you’re putting up with me at all. I don’t think I’d be so kind if the roles were reversed. I know firsthand how hard it is to find a spot to breathe in places like this.”

You feel your shoulder muscles relax just the slightest bit. “I thought about sending you away, but I couldn’t help it. My heart aches when I see an introvert in need of a hiding spot,” you attempt to joke. 

“At least I’m out with friends,” he says sympathetically. “I’ve done the coworker thing before. It’s a drag.”

“It’s weird ,” you correct. “I mean, I sit in meetings with these people. I avoid answering their emails all day. Why is it considered rude to not want to see them piss drunk?”

Yoongi hums in agreement, nodding his head. “What do you do, anyway?”

“I work for Look Here Magazine,” you reply, straightening up a bit in pride when Yoongi’s eyes flash with recognition, his body turning so his shoulder is against the wall now. You turn as well, facing him. “I write for the music section.”

“No shit? I’ve probably read your stuff, then,” Yoongi says, grinning. 

He’s cute. Hot. You can’t help but notice, no matter how hard you’re trying not to. The way that he seems to carry himself in particular, you think, might end up driving you crazy if you’re exposed to it for too long. Maybe you’ve been living under a rock, but you’ve never met a fellow wallflower that still exuded such confidence. He wears it insanely well.

“Look Here covers a lot of big artists,” you hear him continue. “I’m a little surprised you’re hugging the wall, honestly. This place is nothing compared to music industry parties.”

“Ah, I only started a few months ago,” you admit, looking down into your cup. “Not a lot of bylines yet. I haven’t made it into a room with an artist that big yet.”

“But you want to,” Yoongi guesses, and you nod, looking up to meet his eyes. He looks impressed, impressed by you , and that… does something to you. Huh. “Shit, that’s… That’s really cool.”

“Thanks,” you say. You can feel your cheeks heating up again, and you’re suddenly very eager to turn the attention away from yourself. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Ah,” Yoongi says, fixing his eyes to his cup just as you had a moment ago. “I’m a music producer, actually.”

You perk up at that. So that’s why he reads Look Here, why he seemed so interested when you told him what you do. 

“Anything I’ve heard?” you ask, leaning in like he’s about to tell you a secret. Networking never stops.

He watches as you lean, his mouth turning up at the corners in a smirk. “Probably.” 

You wait for more, but it doesn’t come. Shithead. So much for that.

“You’ve gotta give me more than that,” you say, and god, you can hear the pout in your own voice. Are you that drunk? Flirting for a lead in a story?

“I don’t,” Yoongi says simply, his smirk in full force now. Mean and annoying and hot. He hasn’t leaned away from you yet. “I want to know more about you, actually. Journalism is hard work. I’m surprised you have time to go out like this.”

“Like I said, I was forced.”

“Still. Spending time with your friends or family or partner or whatever must take priority when it comes to your free time.”

Why is he so interested? You scrunch your nose, trying to figure out what he could be fishing for here. You don’t make it a habit to divulge the details of your sad excuse for a personal life to strangers, but the alcohol has loosened your lips. Maybe you need to talk about it. It’s not like you’ll ever see him again, anyway.

“My family is back home. My best friend is this insanely talented playwright. She’s constantly traveling. I see her when she can get some time to fly out.” You take a quick sip of your drink, ignoring the pang in your chest. Sometimes it sneaks up on you, how lonely you are. “Other than her, it’s just me, really. The dating thing… Nobody really seems to get how demanding my job can be, and it always ends in hurt feelings.”

There’s a long pause, and you’re worried you’ve shared too much. You’re enjoying talking to Yoongi. You know it doesn’t matter, that you’ll likely never see him again, but it would really, really suck if his permanent mental image of you ends up being ‘lonely weird drunk girl,’ even if that’s what you are. You force yourself to look up at him. The look in his eyes makes your heart flip stupidly again.

“I get that,” he says, and his voice is soft, barely audible over the music filling the space. You’re reading his lips more than anything, honestly, and you don’t let yourself look at them for too long. He may be pretty—unbearably so, you’re realizing—but he’s a stranger. A mean, annoying, hot, pretty stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. Every guy says he gets it. This needs to stay what it is, you think. Momentary companionship between introverts who would rather die than square dance.

You don’t get much time to agonize over it. Whatever is going on between you and Yoongi is intercepted quickly by his phone buzzing in his pocket and his responding grimace when he pulls it out to check it.

“Namjoon fell off of the mechanical bull,” he says, like he’s completely unsurprised by that news. He downs the rest of his drink and pockets his phone again, pushing off of the wall. “I’ve gotta deal with that.”

You nod, pulling what you hope is a sympathetic face. “Good luck.”

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, and you hold your breath. He looks like he wants to say something, torn between rushing upstairs to save his friend and staying, just for a moment.

You think you know what he wants to say, think foolishly that maybe he wants to ask for your number, and you honestly don’t know if you’d give it to him if he did. You’re so used to saying no.

He runs his fingers through his hair, opens his mouth to speak, and then he looks down like his phone is buzzing again. When he looks back up, it seems like he’s thought better of it.

“Thanks for sharing your wall,” he settles on, smiling congenially. You smile back, and then he’s heading towards the stairs.

Good, you think. You know better. If he really gets it, he does too.

★ ★ ★

You’re dragged out to one more bar before you finally make it home, your interaction with Yoongi having knocked you off-kilter enough to agree to a few more drinks.

It does wonders for your social status at work, you’re sure, but by the time you’re dropped off you’re dizzy-drunk, fighting to stay upright in the elevator of your apartment building.

You’re fumbling and failing at getting your key into the lock of your front door, tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth in concentration, when a voice calling your name a few feet to your right almost makes you jump out of your skin.

You yell, clutching your chest, and when you turn to face the owner of the voice that almost made you lose the contents of your stomach on your doormat, you’re greeted by none other than corner-thief-mean-annoying-hot-pretty Yoongi himself, leaning against the door to the apartment two doors down.

“What the fuck,” you blurt out dumbly, and he laughs. At you! How dare he stand there, lean there, all hot and annoying and in your apartment building for some fucking reason and laugh at you.

“I was going to ask if you needed help,” he says, and oh, fuck. You were safe from just how deep his voice was under the thrum of the music at the bar, but in the quiet of your apartment building this late, you can hear it just fine. Feel it, even. Feel it in places you do not want to humor right now. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say you do.”

It’s obvious that Yoongi is faring much better than you are, although his night clearly didn’t end after the mechanical bull incident. Faster than you can react, he’s right in front of you, gently taking your key from your hands and turning it in the lock, like it’s easy.

“Gonna make it in okay?” he asks, looking down at you. You force your brain to make words.

“I’ll be okay,” you assure him, your tongue heavy in your mouth. “Are you stalking me?”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “I think we’re neighbors.”

“Oh.” Oh. Okay. That’s fine. Just because he’s your neighbor doesn’t mean you have to do something stupid, like see him ever again.

“Give me your number,” he says softly. Oh.

You blink at him, and he grins. Gummy smile. You feel like you’re going to vomit all over his Jordans.

“In case you ever can’t use your keys again,” he clarifies. “I told you, those music industry parties are killer.”

And really, you’re powerless to resist. You give him your number, using all of your remaining brain power to remember the order of the digits. Seemingly satisfied, Yoongi pockets his phone and steps back, heading back to his front door.

“Goodnight, neighbor,” he says, unlocking his door with ease. “Sleep on your side.”

You swallow thickly and nod, slipping inside your own apartment as quickly as you can manage. 

Once you’re in, you sink onto the floor, your back pressed against the door behind you. Your cat, perched on your coffee pot, stares at you in your drunk, flustered state, unimpressed. Offended, even, judging by the way she licks her paw.

You’re so fucked.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

[adnauseum11]

Non- Mission Essential (John Price x Reader)

John owes Kate a dinner and makes good on his promise. You are introduced to people from John's work life.

3k words

CW: swearing

This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U series, the Masterlist is pinned to my blog

The restaurant is based off a real one that exists elsewhere in the world. It's a sumptuous affair so it's sprawled over two chapters.

If it wasn't clear that I grew up before cell phones, this chapter should solidify that. I'm roughly the same vintage as John and can confirm life before caller ID and knowing who is calling.

Feedback welcome!

The evening is lit up by streetlamps by the time you arrive at the Chop House for dinner, the cold air heavy with threatening snow. The sidewalks gleam wet under the streetlamps and headlights of the passing traffic. John looks dapper in a dark grey three-piece suit, the tie and handkerchief patterned with a deep green that compliments your dress. You had smugly assumed John would be the problem tonight, his gaze heating every time he caught a glimpse of velvet stretched over your curves as you got ready.

He had been preoccupied with getting himself dressed so he had missed your initial lingerie selection, a strapless bra and no panties – the dress too tight for anything else without showing lines. Not much escapes the big man’s notice but you are thankful that seems to have flown under his radar, although with his inclination to be handsy with you, you wonder how long your luck will hold. As it turns out, however, the tailored lines of his suit keep drawing your eye, distracting you completely. His broad shoulders fill out the jacket like it was molded to his measurements with exacting precision. He’s caught you out twice so far, not paying attention at all to what he’s saying, wrapped up in fantasies that glaze over your eyes. The second time he smiled deeply, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he gently jolted you out of your X-rated daydream to put your high heels on. You’re wearing a long black pea coat over your dress, the velvet doing a decent job of keeping your legs warm as you step out into the cool night air.

You share a secret smile with him when he helps you out of the car, the valet waiting for the door to close behind you before taking the car to be parked. You have butterflies in your stomach, wanting to make a good impression on these women. John spoke highly of both of them, although he’s only worked with Kate. His presence is soothing, an anchor to your tumultuous anxieties. You run your hand over the front of his jacket, unnecessarily smoothing his lapels down, letting your eyes wander over the material wrapped around his deltoid.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that-”

John’s voice is pitched low, for your ears only, but he gets cut off by someone calling his name. You’re slightly disappointed you don’t get to hear the rest of the threat, John’s hand landing low on your back, steering you forward.

“Kate. Michelle.”

A pair of women step towards you, one dirty blonde with shorter hair and the other slightly taller, wearing her dark, thick, curly hair slicked back, gathered into a high bun at the top of her head. It creates a halo effect, framing her face beautifully. John greets them both with brief hugs before introducing you first to Kate, the blond, and then her wife, Michelle. Kate has no jewellery aside from a wedding ring that you can see, but Michelle has golden hoop earrings that complement her honey skin and her matching wedding ring. As John advised earlier you forgo air kisses for shaking hands with them both, Kate’s grip is firm where Michelle’s is gentle.  

“Shall we?”

Kate asks, her accent not as twangy as you had anticipated. John leads the way, holding the door open for your group as you file in behind him. You hand your coat over to the attendant at the coat room, waiting for the rest of the group to do the same. Kate is wearing a suit herself, a dark blue with black silk lining the slim lapels and a crisp black button-down shirt. Michelle is wearing a retro off the shoulder A-line cocktail dress, thick pleats of navy-blue fabric gathered around the waist of the skirt creating a classic feminine silhouette. A chunky gold necklace matches her earrings and catches the subdued lighting.

“Oh, I love your dress!”

Michelle says as she turns to rejoin you after handing over her own coat. You feel heat crawl over your cheeks, shooting a look at John before thanking her and telling her you were just admiring hers. John looks smug, and his hand resettles on your lower back, sparking the low simmering desire in your belly. A part of you knows you will never be able to wear this dress again without thinking of him, buried deep inside you and telling you he thought of you wearing it when he was alone, off working somewhere in the world. John’s warm hand stays on your lower back, a tactile reminder of those recent erotic memories until you reach your table, when he pulls your chair out for you.

The restaurant is styled in classic old-world opulence, the wingback chairs wrapped in leather and the table tops made of marbled quartz.  Kate repeats the gesture for Michelle, pulling out the chair opposite yours for her to sit. John and Kate exchange a look you don’t understand before taking their own seats. John sits beside you, looking like the cat that got the cream. Kate notices as well.

“You’re looking well John.”

John looks up from the drink menu, casting an assessing eye over Kate before responding.

“Been resting up at home the last few days. Are you looking forward to getting home soon, Michelle?”

John redirects the conversation, and you smile to yourself. You know better, his definition of ‘resting’ in this context broad enough to include making dinner every night and doling out regular toe-curling orgasms.     

“The townhome Kate’s work puts us up in when we’re here is starting to feel like home. It’s the weather I can’t get used to. This wet cold is the worst.”

Both Kate and John make sounds of agreement, but you’ve never been anywhere with any other type of cold. Isn’t snow just frozen water?

“What’s a dry cold? How is that better?”

You venture and John turns to answer but Kate beats him to it.

“A wet cold means you have to dry out first before you can warm up. Dry cold doesn’t have the moisture in the air.”

“Doesn’t get in to your bones in the same way, love.”

John adds. Kate’s face softens for a brief moment before she carries on. Her delivery style is no-nonsense but kind.

“You only really get dry cold in places with low precipitation.”

You already know better than to ask how they know this, assuming it’s something learned first-hand. You’re realizing, not for the first time, that there is a significant part of John’s life that you aren’t privy to. Silently you wonder if Michelle is equally left in the dark about her wife’s work life.

“Is it a dry cold where you live then?”

“Washington gets its fair share of precipitation but it’s nothing compared to this country. It’s a good thing the rental comes with umbrellas ‘cause we didn’t pack any.”

Michelle answers you, and you smile at her quip, agreeing that they’re more necessity than accessory here. The waiter stops by, delivering the menus and water. John looks at you for your drink order so you don’t have to raise your voice across the table and you ask for a glass of full-bodied red, letting John choose on your behalf. Kate notices everything, her vigilance reminding you somewhat of John’s inability to relax in crowded spaces. John orders himself a single malt whiskey and your glass of wine and Kate orders a gin and tonic but Michelle sticks to water which elicits a remark from John.

“Rough night last night?”

“No, we have a Doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Trying to keep the system primed. Want it to take this time. As much as I love our semi-regular jaunts across the pond, I’m ready to sit a few out.”

“You complain about not having direct access to Gregg’s sausage rolls when we’re home for longer than two weeks.” Kate deadpans, unconvinced by her wife’s statement.  

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you, that’s exciting.”

John ignores Kate, and Michelle rewards his discernment with a smile. He turns to you and explains the doctor in question is a fertility doctor which crystalizes your understanding of the conversation.

“That’s very exciting! Congratulations, I hope it works out for you tomorrow. You must have a generous boss to let you travel as much as it sounds like you do.”

Michelle grins, her excitement palpable.

“Thank you, I’m nervous but looking forward to it. As far as bosses go, I own my own consulting business; I do environmental data analysis so I can work from anywhere and generate my reports. I have some university students who work in placements doing the data collecting and then we assimilate it and generate a report.”

“Oh, that’s interesting!”

“Yes, and varied, each project is a new challenge. I love it.”

“She’s highly sought after in the area, there are a lot of National Parks nearby. A lot of businesses have to do impact studies if they’re operating in or near the parks.”

Kate clarifies for you, pride bleeding into her tone.

“Well, that’s lovely, built in clientele. Is that how you two met?”

Michelle tips her head back and laughs as her wife turns slightly red, but smirks nonetheless.

“No, we met in a bar in Annapolis, her boyfriend at the time was being an asshole and I de-escalated the situation.”

Kate supplies, and you suspect that’s not entirely true given Michelle’s bout of laughter. Once she’s calmed herself, she colours in Kate’s bare bones explanation.

“I was dating a man who had a delicate ego-“

Kate scoffs but holds her tongue when Michelle shoots her a look.

“-and he didn’t like that I was thinking of quitting my job at the time to start this business. He didn’t think I could make a go of it and was going to blow my life savings. Kate listened to him berate me for about ten minutes at the bar before she brought her beer over and joined us, without asking, and proceeded to counter every negative thing that man said with a potential positive. You should have seen his face. She talked me up so much I ended up leaving the bar with her that night and broke up with him the next day. I’d never dated a woman before but the confidence was so sexy, I was like a deer in the headlights. Couldn’t look away. Still can’t.”

“Aw! that’s the definition of sweeping you off your feet-“

Kate changes the topic you before you can comment any further, clearly uncomfortable with being the object of praise.

“So, how did you and John meet?”

“Oh, nothing as romantic as that. John was mates with a boy I was seeing at the time.”

It’s John’s turn to scoff but unlike Kate he doesn’t hold his tongue, adding his two cents to the story.

“Boy is right, his mouth was writing cheques his ass couldn’t cash.”

“John.”

You admonish gently, more to keep him from getting worked up about something that happened over two decades ago than anything. He sits back, gesturing for you to continue as the waiter returns with the drinks. You wait until John requests some more time with the menus before continuing, taking your wine out of his outstretched hand smoothly as you speak.

“John found out his mate had been harassing me after we broke up. Following me home from school. Waiting for me outside shops, not taking no for an answer when I told him to leave me alone. Repeatedly calling my home and asking for me even after I told him I was done. Making my life a general hell. John caught him bullying me on the way home one day after he got back from basic training. He’d been hanging around waiting for his mates to let out from school and watched my ex badger me down the lane. John got into a fist fight with him about it. Broke his cheekbone. The ass left me alone after that but John gave me his number in case he started following me around again and we stayed in touch after that.”

John sips his whiskey, seemingly satisfied with your version of events. Kate is clearly not, however.

“How come you weren’t charged with assault? None of that is in your transcript. If the MP’s got wind of it, it would have been.”

Kate asks, clearly mystified. You can’t help but note that she’s read John’s transcript and wonder what else she knows about his life.

“The lad’s parents were convinced that the natural consequences were better than their son standing trial for a stalking charge that had multiple eyewitnesses.”

“Who convinced his parents?”

It’s your turn to ask, never having considered that part before and John slides you an even look before he answers.

“My father.”

“Ah. Well, that tracks.”

John hums in agreement with you and Kate looks from you to John and back again.

“Sounds romantic to me.”

Michelle offers and you can feel heat creeping over your face again. You had been given a front row seat to a bloody and painful exchange; it had never occurred to you to think of it as romantic. Heroic maybe, but you had attributed that to your gratefulness of having the harassment finally put to a stop.

“John was just doing the right thing. We stayed mates for years after that. We only started dating a few months ago.”

You explain to Michelle but the back of your mind is now trying to rehash the past for clues of John’s feelings. Was it romantic that he beat up your ex? As if the man in question can read your racing mind he reaches over and rests a big hand on your tense thigh, his thumb stroking over the velvet in tiny circular motions. The distraction works and redirects your attention to the present moment in time to catch Kate’s words.

“Sounds like John. Can’t watch a situation go sideways without mixing in.”

She’s looking at John with the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. The man beside you doesn’t argue, raising his whiskey in salute to the dirty blonde.

“So, you’ve known each other for a while then?”

Michelle gets the conversation back on track, her eyes bouncing between you and John.

“Oh lord, yes. I couldn’t have been more than 15 or 16 when all that went down? Put me right off dating for a while. My brother would tease me that I’d be a spinster.”

“You have a brother? What was he doing when you were being harassed?”

Kate is indignant on your behalf which is endearing, considering you barely know the woman.

“He thought it was funny. He’d answer the phone and tell me it was one of my girlfriends to get me to pick up. He’s younger than me, so thought it was all a good laugh to see me scared. My parents thought it was just teen drama and told me to sort it out myself. They both worked and weren’t around much.”

John’s hand squeezes your thigh before retreating, a comforting warmth rolling through you at his easy familiarity in front of his friends. You shoot him a smile as the waiter returns to the table to take orders. Unsurprisingly, John makes the most of this opportunity and orders a porterhouse steak. You and Michelle both order smaller servings of filet mignon, and Kate surprises you by requesting a lobster and steak combo. The women seated across from you exchange a glance, Michelle clearly wanting to say something about Kate’s ambitious selection. You hide the smile that wants to erupt behind a sip of your wine at the unspoken conversation happening across the table.

“How’s your wine, darling?”

John’s eyes are on your hand, wrapped around the stem of the wineglass you are holding aloft. You’ve painted your nails a deep red, matching your lipstick, the contrast against the green of your velvet gown eye-catching. You finally let the smile that’s been threatening to creep across your face loose, John’s distraction a small victory as far as you’re concerned.

“Very good, French this time?”

You ask, his interest in all things food and drink related an endless source of fascination to you. You suspect it’s partly due to the military food he’s been eating for half his life that drives his taste to the more refined when he’s given a choice. You trust his judgement and he’s rarely steered you wrong.

“Spanish, small vineyard.”

Kate’s new line of questioning interrupts your reply to John.  

“So, you have a younger brother, what about your parents? Are they still together?”

You feel your heart drop, even though you’ve fielded this question many times over the years. It never seems to get any easier for you, nor have you developed a simple way to gloss over the loss to make it more palatable. You set the wineglass down on the table while you take a breath, forcing the smile that was stretched across your face back in to place.

“Yes, they were killed by a drunk driver in a head on collision. I’m told it was instantaneous.”

Michelle’s gasp has the smile slipping but you rally, John straightening up in concern at your side.

“Shit – I’m sorry-”

Kate tries to apologize but it’s your turn to interject, waving her concern off.

“No, it was years ago now. It’s fine, I just never know how to casually slip that in when it comes up. I’m going to freshen up before dinner arrives, excuse me, won’t you?”

Your heart is thrumming against your breastbone as you stand up, John half out of his chair before your palm on his shoulder stops him. You just need a moment alone to take a few deep breaths and recenter yourself. John’s concerned hovering will only muddy your waters.

“It’s alright, I’ll be right back.”

You reassure him quietly, your voice thin against the sudden wave of emotion. Your fingers squeeze the broad muscle of his shoulder before weaving your way across the large room to the bathrooms. You don’t have to look behind you to know John’s eyes are following you, you can feel the heat of his gaze on your back sending pinpricks of awareness through you.

Next Chapter

Ao3

Taglist:

@beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms

@itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch @magsmagic

@h0n3y-l3m0n05 @chickennn-soupp @fruitymoonbeams-blog

@redwites @glitterypirateduck @tf141gloryhole

[thewulf]

Who are You? || Jake Seresin

Summary: After breaking up with you lovely cheating fiancée you find a place to stay at your Aunt Penny's house in San Diego. You might just get more than you bargained for when you meet the Jake Seresin.

A/N: First attempt at Top Gun, loved writing for him!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 4,700+

Part 2

Life came at you fast. One moment you were planning your wedding with the supposed ‘love of your life’ Aaron, the next you were on the floor of your shared apartment wondering why he had to go and ruin everything. You and Aaron had met back in college when you were both studying engineering. He swept you off your feet, quite literally. A mishap in a chemistry lab had him picking you up so you wouldn’t get burned. From then on, the two of you had been inseparable.

Aaron was everything you wanted in a man. He was sweet, kind, funny and just an overall good person to be around. At least, that’s what you thought. The two of you moved to Michigan after graduating, both of you securing well-paying engineering jobs. You thought you were happy, you thought you’d start a life in Michigan but apparently Aaron had other plans.

You stated noticing odd behaviors from your fiancée five years into the relationship. His once calm and kind demeanor changed ever so slightly. He snapped at you often, something your Aaron wouldn’t have dreamed of doing even just a year prior. He wasn’t fun to be around anymore, you tried to make jokes that would have made him laugh and crack one back with you, but he just rolled his eyes at you instead.

You weren’t sure when it all started culminating but you were damn near a breaking point. Five years into a relationship and his personality changed so drastically over the last six months. You tried taking advice from both your mom and aunts, but nothing worked.

All the tension came to a head when you were out one night with a friend, Mandy, heading to the local bars. Aaron was supposed to be gone for the week on a work trip. He was indeed not on a work trip. Mandy spotted him and excitedly tried to drag you over to him. Your eyes widened and you yanked your arm away from her. She didn’t know Aaron was supposed to be gone. You quickly ducked your head and walked to a side of the bar you were sure he couldn’t see you from. Mandy was clearly confused but followed you anyway.

“He’s not supposed to be here Mandy.” Y/N said while quietly sipping on the whisky sour you had ordered earlier.

“Where’s he supposed to be then?” She asked with confusion laced on her brow.

Y/N took a slow and drawn-out breath while closing her eyes knowing something wasn’t right. Mandy was looking at you expectantly when you opened your eyes again, “Minnesota, for work.”

She bit her lip trying to come up with any excuse for him in the book. You gave her a sad smile while shifting around a few people trying to get a better line of sight on the liar.

Your heart sunk when a beautiful girl seemed to appear out of thin air wrapping her dainty arms around your fiancée. You bit the inside of your cheek hard, trying to will the tears that were threatening to spill to stay put. You continued to watch half hoping it was just a friend, God willing it’d just be a friend. Your heart shattered when he placed a soft kiss on her lips smiling like the fucking idiot he was. Your teeth clenched down harder drawing a metallic taste from your mouth.

“Oh, Y/N, let’s go.” Mandy softly grabbed at your arm attempting to pull you away from the bar. Your legs felt like lead as she tried to drag you away. You couldn’t hear anything nor process what you saw. You heard your heart beating slow and not so steady. Closing your eyes again you swallowed the blood that pooled in your mouth.

“I should go up to him.” You mumbled ignoring Mandy’s protests.

This time Mandy squeezed your arm trying to get you to snap out of whatever daze you were in, “That’d be an awful idea Y/N. Take some pictures and let’s go home.”

You nodded taking another sip from your sour, nearly hissing when it hit the open wound from your cheek bite. The fucking loser was continuing to hurt you without even realizing it. Mandy snapped a few more pictures making sure to get everything.

That’s how you landed on the floor of your shared apartment silently crying. The gravity of the situation finally hit you, your life you wanted to start was over. Aaron ruined it before it could really begin.

You sent the pictures to your mom and aunts who, of course, were nothing but supportive. They helped to get you out of the situation. Your mom flew in to help you pack your things and your Aunt Penny offered to let you come out to San Diego and live with her for a while. You worked it out with your boss, he agreed to let you work from home rather than lose you completely. You were free to go to San Diego for the next six months.

The actual breakup was heartbreaking yet again. Aaron almost looked relieved when you ended it only confirming your worst nightmare, being used in a relationship. It was a blessing in disguise you kept telling yourself as you made the 35-hour drive to your Aunt Penny’s. It certainly was the biggest blessing in disguise for Y/N.

You pulled up to Penny’s blue home three days after starting your cross-country road trip. You smiled taking in the views around you, smelling the salty ocean air that was unfamiliar to you. The air was warm and refreshing and the ocean front views went on for miles. Penny and Amelia ran outside to greet you, more than excited to have you come stay with them.

“Y/N!” Amelia yelled running up to you throwing herself into your outstretched arms.

“Meals!” You enthusiastically replied, “you’ve grown.” You whispered into her hair as you held her closely.

“You would have known that if you visited.” She stuck her tongue out at you after getting a better look at you.

You ruffled her hair sighing, realizing just how much you missed out because of Aaron. “I know, that’s on me. Don’t let stupid boys make decisions for you.” She nodded her head smiling while backing away, giving room for Penny to sneak in.

“It’s okay,” Penny cooed pulling you into a hug, “we’ve got plenty of time to catch up.”

You nodded your head feeling very good about the decision to stow away at the Benjamin household for a while. “How’ve you been Aunt Pen?” You asked while grabbing a suitcase out of the back. Amelia came around and started unloading the contents with you.

“Been wonderful.” She grinned ear to ear.

“Moms got a boyfriend.” Amelia giggled while wiggling her eyebrows, “A pilot boyfriend.”

“Really?” You asked your aunt, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

She nodded, “I do. He’ll be around tonight.”

“What’s tonight? Anything happening?” Y/N asked nobody in particular.

Amelia ran inside with your items leaving you alone with Penny.

“Nothing major. I’ve got to close the Hard Deck tonight. He usually stops by to say hello. Along with a few other aviators.”

You smirked at your blushing aunt, “A boyfriend huh? Is he cute? What’s his name? Can I come tonight?”

She laughed at your rapid-fire questions, “Of course he’s cute! Very handsome. His name is Pete Mitchell.” Penny smiled thinking about him. “And yes of course you can come on by, it’s always a good time on a Friday night.”

“Oh, so you’re in love love.” Y/N smirked grabbing the last of the items from your car.

Penny shrugged, “A bit.”

“How do I look Amelia?” You asked your cousin as you walked down the stairs.

She grinned setting down the book she was reading, “Beautiful, as always.”

“You’re way too nice to me Meals.” You smiled sitting down next to her on the couch.

She shrugged, looking eerily like her mother, “It’s the truth.”

“We’ll thank you, you’re my favorite cousin.”

“I’m your only cousin!” She laughed punching you in the shoulder lightly.

“Precisely.” You winked getting up from the couch. “So, what am I walking into?” You eyed the fridge containing beer, you knew one would calm your nerves.

She peeked back over her book, “Lots of flyboys. All cute too. Some cool girls come around too.”

You nodded cracking open the beer, getting rather nervous hearing that, “Pretty cute hmm?”

She nodded her head enthusiastically, “I think so. They’re all very kind. Just twice my age. So, it’s more of a looking situation for me.”

“Not twice mine.”

Amelia giggled shaking her head, “Mom always says no flyboys. I assume she’ll say the same for you. Bit of a hypocrite she is.”

This time it was your turn to laugh, “Sounds like she knows something.”

Amelia nodded looking down at the time, “You better go if you want to beat Mav there.”

“Mav?”

“Maverick, it’s Pete’s callsign. They all have one.”

You nodded finishing the rest of the beer, “I have no idea what I’m getting myself into.”

“You’ll have fun! Go! Don’t think of that stupid boy either. Enjoy the night.” She shot up from her spot on the couch and began pushing you towards the front door.

You put your hands up, “Alright, alright! Have a good night, Meals.”

“You to! But not too much.”

You hesitantly walked towards the Hard Deck really regretting your decision to go out tonight. You just weren’t feeling up to it now. All you really wanted to do was grab a pint of ice cream and hang out with Amelia.

Sighing you pushed open the door to the bar taking in your surroundings quickly. Everybody appeared to be normal, no flyboys in sight. Smiling you walked over to the bar spotting Penny’s blonde hair.

“There you are, was beginning to worry you wouldn’t show.” She grinned grabbing you a beer and setting it down in front of you.

“Thanks Pen. Your daughter distracted me when I was leaving.”

She shook her head, “Pete and the crew should be here any moment.”

You nodded taking a big sip of the beer, hoping to feel lightly buzzed before meeting a bunch of new people.

True to Penny’s word a few people in uniform came waltzing through. All of them seemed to ooze confidence which sent you scrunching down in your chair trying to avoid any and all eye contact. It’s not that you didn’t like meeting new people, it’s just that they were all so intimidating. You snapped your head back to Penny with wide eyes.

“What’s the matter?” She laughed pouring what you assumed to be Pete’s beer.

“They’re terrifying.” You whispered leaning in close.

She let out an alarmingly loud laugh that you were sure grabbed the attention of the crew, “Hardly love. They may look it but they’re a bunch of hooligans.”

“I can attest to that.” A male voice spoke from behind sending you nearly jumping out of your seat.

“Jesus.” You took a breath and turned around to look at the very handsome man.

“Pete! This is Y/N. She finally made it in from Michigan.” Penny handed him his beer as he sat down next to you.

“Hello.” You smiled at him taking another good look at him while sipping on your own beer.

“Nice to meet you Y/N. Penny’s told me all about you.”

You turned to your aunt with a raised brow, “She’s always had a big mouth.”

“Hey!” Penny laughed hitting you with the bar rag, “Only good things I promise Y/N.”

“I believe you Aunt Pen.” You smiled brightly at your aunt.

“Alright, let me go serve the kids and I’ll be back.” She winked at the both of you before turning around to a ‘kid’ who was sporting a rather pornstache looking mustache. You noticed him pointing over to you and Penny looking back at you. Rather uncomfortably you turned your entire body to Pete and tried to distract yourself.

“So, Pete, are you good to my Aunt Pen?”

He smiled watching her pour beers and hand them to the kid, “Of course. I lost her once and I’m certainly not planning on doing that again.”

“Good.” You nodded taking another swig from your glass.

“And you? What’s your story kiddo?”

You sighed not really wanting to get into the nitty gritty details with Penny’s boyfriend, “My fiancée cheated on me. I needed to get away and Penny offered her place for a while.”

He nodded slowly taking you in this time, “Sorry kid. People suck sometimes.”

You bobbed your head unsure what to say to the man, “Indeed they do.” You said while sighing, finishing off the beer.

“Not all of them suck,” he smirked finishing his off at the same time, “Looks like somebody else has some eyes for you.” He set his glass down and stood up, motioning for that somebody to come over.

“Don’t leave me.” You pleaded seeing him start to walk away.

He laughed, “From what Penny tells me, you’ll be able to handle him just fine.” He winked and disappeared behind a few people. You sighed yet again scrunching your nose up, not too thrilled with the situation you had landed yourself in.

“Need another?” A new voice spoke from behind. Y/N turned around slowly shyly smiling at the aviator in behind her. 

“Uhh, sure.” You bit your lip turning back towards the bar cursing your inability to even hold a conversation with the handsome stranger.

“You mind?” He pointed to the chair.

You shook your head no racking your brain for anything to say to the man sitting beside you. He was beautiful Y/N thought. A far departure from her once fiancée Aaron, the stranger sported blonde hair and green eyes, stunning green eyes. Y/N took a breath and smiled again at him.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Beautiful name for an even more beautiful woman.” He grinned calling Penny over to refill both drinks.

You couldn’t stop the light blush that crept across your face, earning a chuckle from the handsome stranger sitting next to you.

“Don’t even think about it Hangman.” Penny spoke eyeing her niece and the serial player sitting close together, “Not my niece.” She glared at him taking both glasses.

He chuckled sticking his hand out to you, “Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman.”

You took his hand gingerly in yours shaking it briefly, “Nice to meet you.” You eyed him curiously waiting for an explanation that was never going to come.

“Hangman?” You questioned.

“Long story.” He nodded scooting ever so slightly closer to you.

“Like the kids game?” 

This time he laughed, loudly, drawing the attention of his fellow aviators. “Exactly like the kids game.”

You nodded, “That’s interesting.”

“Just like me sweetheart.”

You could feel another blush creep up, you mentally cursed your face for giving you away so easily. Y/N was flustered. Aaron wasn’t nearly as smooth as this beautiful man was before you. You didn’t know how to deal with this level of boldness, not quite used to the attention he was giving you.

Penny saved your racing thoughts setting the beers down rather hard eyeing Jake in the process. “I’ve got my eye on you Seresin.” She smiled walking away back over to Maverick on the other side of the bar. 

“What’s that about?” You asked sincerely hoping for an honest answer from the man sitting even more closely now, not that you minded.

“Nothing sweetheart.” he finally looked back up into your eyes stopping whatever he was going to say. 

This time it was his turn to sigh, “I might have a small reputation.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you took a long drawn-out sip of your beer waiting for him to go on.

He ran a hand through his hair trying to figure out what to say to the beautiful woman sitting next to him. He wasn’t sure what had come over him, but her eyes stopped his usual spiel. It was like she was bearing her entire soul to him in just the way she was looking at him. He sucked in a breath before continuing.

“A playboy reputation?” He spoke timidly, grinning at her but he knew she could see right through it.

“Ahh, there it is.” Y/N clicked her tongue almost afraid to look back him. You knew you would get sucked back into his eyes, all green and perfect. It’s always the eyes for Y/N.

He gulped knowing his next words would dictate the way the rest of his night would go, “Come over and meet my friends. They’re a great group of people.”

You looked at him expectantly considering the options. He quickly pivoted away from that statement. Bud what else did you have to lose? You knew his end game now and you certainly weren’t going to let him take you home tonight.

“Sure.” You nodded standing from your seat. He grabbed your beer and led you over to the small group of people standing around the pool table. Jake cleared his through garnering the attention of the crew.

“This is Y/N, our dear Penny’s niece.”

“We know.” Pornstache guy smiled walking over to you, “Penny told me.” He winked at Jake before continuing looking down at you, “Bradley Bradshaw ma’am, these assholes call me Rooster.”

You smiled seeing the rest of the group groan telling him to shut up, “Nice to meet you, Bradley.” You opted for using his real name, not quite comfortable enough to use the nicknames just yet.

“These two are both trouble.” The lone female stepped up and pulled you away, “Natasha, or Phoenix.” She smiled snatching your beer away from Jake before handing it back to you. “Those two playing pool are Payback and Bob.”

You waved quickly turning your attention back to Natasha, “It’s a pleasure to meet you all, although slightly overwhelming.”

She laughed patting your back, “You just missed the big group. We just wrapped up a mission a few days ago. Everybody is getting reassigned. I luckily get to stay for a while longer with these smooth brains.” 

“Hey now,” Jake walked back over eyeing you subtly, “You love us Phoenix.”

She scoffed, “Love is a word you can use.” She spoke while rolling her eyes.

“So, Y/N,” Jake spoke in his oddly attractive southern draw, you turned you attention back to the man, “where are you from? What’s your story?”

You noticed the rest of the crew go back to what they were doing leaving you with Jake, Phoenix shaking her head used to Jake’s antics. 

You tapped your glass thinking of what you wanted to tell him, “From Ohio, lived in Michigan, broke up with a guy and now I’m here.” You nodded your head knowing that’s all you wanted to say.

He chuckled this time taking his turn to respond. Noting that Y/N was closed off. “You want to go for a walk darling?”

You eyed him curiously, “Are you going to murder me?”

You earned a snort from him this time, “Now why would I do that to the beautiful woman I’m trying to take out on a date?”

You shrugged, “Just something a murderer would suggest.” You smiled up at him charmingly, “Wait, did you say date?”

“I did beautiful.” Smirking he took a long drink from his glass. You gulped eyeing him, how could one be so attractive taking a drink of beer?

You hummed keeping your eyes on him as he lowered his glass, “Maybe. You’ll have to convince me though.” You shrugged as nonchalantly as you could muster, trying to form some sort of confidence.

“Well let me take you on a walk then darling.” He grinned setting his empty glass down on a table. 

“Alright,” you set your glass down and turned towards Natasha, “if I don’t come back though, he did it.” You pointed towards Jake.

She laughed, “Jake is many things, I don’t think he’s slick enough to get away with murder though.”

Jake rolled his eyes and softly touched your wrist, “May I?”

You snapped your body back around feeling his warm touch on your arm, “Okay.” You spoke while your brain short circuited from the contact. He pulled your arm gently into his side bringing you closely to him. You were sure your heart was about to beat right out of your chest.

The two of you walked slowly down the beach in a comfortable silence listening to the waves crash onto shore.

“From Ohio? And moved to Michigan?” He asked softly not wanting to startle you.

You hummed agreeing with his statement, “Got my degree and found a job in Michigan. It’s a beautiful state, just too cold in the winter.”

He chuckled, “It doesn’t get too cold in Texas.”

“That where you’re from?”

“Yes ma’am.” He spoke while rubbing his thumb along your forearm sending a wave of chills down your body. “Born and raised, Texas is home.”

“Never been.” You admitted.

He gasped, “Well I’ll be. I’ll take you there one day.” He squeezed your arm gently.

“Oh really?”

“If you let me that is.” He spoke sounding rather nervous, a far cry from his previous flirting.

“We’ll see Tic Tac Toe.”

He threw his head back laughing loudly, “Hangman darling.”

“I like Candyland better.” You looked up to him for the first time since you two left the bar smiling as his green eyes reflected the sunset on the horizon. 

“Well, I’ll tell you what darling,” he stopped abruptly which halted you in place, “you can call me whatever kids game you want if you let me take you out?”

Giggling you bit your cheek to suppress the grin forming on your face, “That’s a tempting offer.”

He nodded, “Then take it.” He winked down at you pulling you slightly closer to him.

You did want to take his offer. He was a beautiful man practically begging you to go on one date with him. Why were you so apprehensive? Was it the look Penny gave you before you went off with him? Was it the thought of even attempting to form a new relationship so soon after the last one ended? Was it simply because you were scared? You looked up at him biting your lip softly trying to form a coherent sentence with him looking at you so expectantly.

“What’s got you thinking so hard beautiful?” He asked while raising his eyebrow, curious to the girl’s apprehension. Jake wasn’t used to it. Sure, women have played hard to get but he always knew their end game. With you? He wasn’t so sure. You were shy, quiet and seemed uncertain. Something was stopping you and it was already driving Jake mad. You were simply different, as cliché as that sounds. You clearly wanted to entertain his advances, but he could not figure out the why, yet.

You hummed still trying to figure out what to say to him. Of course, the stupid blush you couldn’t hide crept back up onto your face. Should you just tell him the truth? You didn’t want to offload so much onto this nearly complete stranger, but he seemed so earnest, so eager to learn about you that you had the urge to.

Still stopped on the supposed walk you were supposed to be taking you finally garnered the courage to speak to him, “Jake, I just got out of a long and quite frankly heartbreaking relationship. I don’t know if I’m ready yet. I don’t want to string you along or hurt you.” You finished the last part of your statement quietly, so quietly you weren’t sure if he heard it.

There it was, he knew there had to be something. He also knew you were a total sweetheart just in the admission. You didn’t want to hurt him?

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

This question made you think. Did you want to talk about it? You’ve only talked to your mom about it, Penny a bit but the nitty gritty details were left out. You did want to talk about it, but with Jake? You weren’t sure.

“I don’t want to unload on you like that, I hardly know you.” You admitted sheepishly avoiding his gaze that never seemed to leave your face.

“And how do people get to know other people Y/N?” He asked sincerely, not trying to sound like an asshole but really trying to get to know you.

You let a small chuckle escape your mouth nodding your head to his point, “They talk.”

“Exactly.” He grinned at you once you finally got the courage to look back up to him, “And I asked about that, I want to know. But if you don’t want me to know that’s alright. There’s many things to talk about.”

You shook your head more in disbelief than anything, “Who are you, Jake? My aunt obviously thinks of you a certain way yet you’re speaking to me like somebody completely different.”

He shrugged, “She sees a certain persona that I want everybody to see. I’m not just that person, that’d make me a pretty awful person.”

“Then why do you put that persona out there?” You questioned, genuinely curious.

“That’s a great question Y/N. One that I’m still figuring out.”

You nodded at his honesty deciding to air out your own baggage to him, “My fiancée cheated on me. I’m not sure how many times or when it started but I caught him out one night at the bar making out with somebody else.” You spoke quickly.

He softly squeezed your arm in comfort, “That’s no man, darling. Dodged yourself a bullet.”

“Spent way to long chasing and holding onto that bullet.” You sighed.

The rest of your walk with Jake consisted of you spilling every detail, to an extent, to him. Something felt so right talking with him. He was the first person who just listened and let you speak your mind. He spoke up when you needed him to, but he let you get it al out. You also learned quite about him in return, you weren’t going to let him get away knowing so much of your baggage without knowing some of his.

He talked about the ‘one that got away’ and how he fucked it up. How his insecurities let the best thing that’s ever happened to him walk away. He admitted to you that he didn’t want to do that again, to feel such sadness knowing it was from your own mistakes.

Before the both of you knew it you spent two hours walking up and down the now dark beach as the sun had set hours prior. When you finally got back to the Hard Deck your aunt was closing the place down with Pete sitting there patiently waiting on her. You didn’t see any of the other aviators as you looked around.

“Have fun?” Penny asked eyeing you curiously seeing as who you came back to the bar with.

You nodded walking to her, Jake in tow, “I did.”

“Me too.” Jake chimed in placing his hand at the small of your back. You could not stop the shiver that ripped down your body from the feeling. You could have sworn you heard Jake laugh softly in response.

Penny smiled shaking her head, “That’s good. What’d you two do?”

You noticed Pete listening in but trying to make it seem like he wasn’t, “Just walked and talked.” You admitted without admitting a single thing.

Penny smiled eyeing Jake yet again, “Just, be careful.” She spoke to you.

“I am, don’t worry Aunt Pen.”

“It’s not you that I’m worried about.” She answered truthfully earning a chuckle from the tall blonde pilot.

“I can promise you Penny, there’s no way I could hurt this one right here. If anything, she’ll go breaking my heart.”

You rolled your eyes trying to play it off cool, but the blush had another idea. Penny grinned like a Cheshire cat seeing your reaction to his over-the-top statement. Penny handed the two of you another round of beers, on her, before quickly turning her attention back to cleaning and Pete.

Gaining some confidence as he led you away from earshot you finally said what you wanted to, “So Jake, about that date?

Part 2

[percheduphere]

LET'S TALK ABOUT MOBIUS'S HEAVY KEYS

I wrote a meta on S1 Mobius here, mostly exploring his interrogation persona and emotional trajectory toward S1E6. I also have a fun little list on all the things I love about him here.

@mitromana posted about how we should talk about Mobius's sass and even cruelty more. @wowwwmobius posted how Mobius realistically would not be doing well post-S2E6 (I wholeheartedly agree), and they and @inwantofamuse shared amazing comments. All of this inspired this meta.

Thank you @mitromana @wowwwmobius @inwantofamuse!

Mobius's interrogation scenes are him at his most cruel and ruthless. The flipside of being a highly empathetic person is that it is very VERY easy to use this skill in highly abusive, cunning, and powerful ways. This is especially true if the person armed with this skill is exceptionally intelligent and is convinced their motivations are good. At the TVA, before Loki's exposure of the truth, Mobius is both of these things. Worse, he has access to the TVA's more ethically unconscionable technology, which he does not hesitate to use.

The road to evil is paved with good intentions. Mobius strolls onto this road more than once, but he manages to not stay on it because two people curb this risk: Loki and, yes, Sylvie.

Take in Loki's words and posture in this scene. The words alone are a frail and weak comeback for a silver-tongue God of lies. They do nothing but reveal Loki is in FACT scared. His arms are crossed tightly over his abdomen, a primal protective response. He's leaned as far away from Mobius as possible. This is the best Loki can come up with in the face of a boring man in a boring suit, really?

You can see why Mobius was moved into the position of Analyst from Hunter. He may not be able to prune children, but he can literally bring a God like Loki to the ground, breathless, confused, and frightened, with nothing more than WORDS. And this is with a variant Mobius likes. Imagine what he can do to a variant he hates.

For HWR and Ravonna's purposes, Mobius is the perfect weapon to get whatever they want out of whatever variant they capture before sending them off to get pruned. How do they keep him from questioning anything?

Memory-wiping (more than once), brainwashing, propaganda, and:

A little something for Mobius's identity, something that fulfills his intrinsic need to take care of others while also gently stroking his ego.

Yes, the genocide of multiple timelines over the span of eons is horrifying. But Mobius is capable of being complicit with it as long as his environment feeds his intrinsic psychological and emotional needs. The people on the Sacred Timeline become his new children, and he will do anything ANYTHING to protect them.

There was one thing HWR and Ravonna didn't anticipate: that this man's empathy for a specific Loki would be the very thing that liberates the multiverse and his own bondage from a corrupt bureaucracy.

However...

I don't believe Mobius ever anticipated becoming emotionally compromised when he advocated on Loki's behalf. He likely genuinely believed that after centuries of studying Loki, he knew him well enough to make him useful for the TVA. But the subconscious, oh. That is a different story, and in Loki's own words, Mobius has a gift for lying to himself.

I discuss the interrogation scene and Sif loop scene in depth here, so I won't repeat myself, but I'd like to draw our attention to the 2 gifs below, framing my analysis:

Imagine where Mobius's mind must be at:

I spent centuries studying you and believing in you. I waited more centuries for your nexus event to come. I tasked every hunter to inform me of your arrival immediately, no matter what I was doing, no matter where I was. I abandoned a case. I ran to your trial. I put my job, reputation, and eons-long friendship with Ravonna on the line. I tested your theory. I brought you with me on the field. You talked to me. You challenged me. You made me proud. You made me laugh.

I gave you daggers and you stabbed me. You STABBED me. When all I wanted to give you was--

Mobius cracked hard and fast. Applaud Owen Wilson for THIS interpretation of the script and THIS delivery.

Thankfully, the very person who put Mobius in this fragile state of mind is also the person Mobius deeply wants to believe in. Even after being betrayed, Mobius still wants to believe in Loki and his capacity to be a wonderful person. And so he looks at Ravonna's TemPad, decides Loki deserves to be with whoever he wants to be with (even if that person will never be Mobius himself), frees Loki to help him save the woman he loves, and gets pruned for it.

Mobius survives thanks to plot-armor. And who is the first person he meets?

The bane of his existence.

And Sylvie wastes no time driving a knife into a very fresh wound. Mobius, however, only recently unleashed all his rage. His reservoir for compartamentalizing has refreshed, so he can take Sylvie's truth bravely, without a flinch, and acknowledge that truth with one of his own.

Mobius owns it. He doesn't deny it. He tacitly agrees with her and gives her a reason why.

We should remember how dangerous Mobius can be. He is currently sitting in a car with the variant he is most likely to hate. Sylvie is strong, clever, and resilient, but her ability to regulate her emotions is weak, especially if she is triggered. Mobius can destroy her very easily with his words.

But Mobius can't hate her. He can't. She was right and he was wrong, but most importantly Loki loves her.

He won't hurt the person Loki loves most. No. He will take her to him instead. He can stomach the pain, the disappointment. He's good at that. Loki's well-being, his happiness, comes first.

In fact, Mobius stomachs Sylvie's knife twists a second time and chooses not to defend himself. I don't doubt a large part of him agrees with her. Nevertheless, he can't help but hope Loki might stand up for him in that moment. He tries, and fails, to make light of it by rolling his eyes and turning to his friend. When Loki leaves him not explaining why, his true feelings about this interaction surfaces on his face.

Aren't you going to say anything?

The saddest thing is that this is the LAST intimate moment THIS Mobius has with Loki before Loki crosses the gangway and never returns. This is it. This is what he's left with: the thought Loki didn't care enough to defend him and Loki leaving.

HE doesn't get to hear that he's just trying to see in the dark and is doing everything he can to keep the surviving timelines alive. SYLVIE does.

HE doesn't get to hear Loki tell him he saved his life. DON does.

HE doesn't get the final goodbye and "thank you, Mobius", his PAST SELF does. And if Mobius happens to remember this moment in the present, he will know that he was the one who propelled Loki to bear this massive burden ALONE.

My worry for Mobius post-S2E6 is that he is more than talented at ignoring his own needs and addressing his own problems. He is infinitely better--a master, even--at taking care of anyone else. It's a devastating flaw, but it comes from a very raw place:

His heart, his soul, will always remember being a single parent.

Being a parent at all is hard to begin with. There are only so many hours in a day, and the majority of it is devoted to putting someone else's needs before your own. Being a single parent is even harder. You might have a few people to help you, but ultimately, there's no partner to share every high and low intimately. To be a single parent of not one but TWO children?

Game over.

Some viewers have interpreted Don ignoring his sons' phone calls at work as negligent. Honestly, I don't think that's the case. He will call them back. Don is Mobius and Mobius is Don. He will take care of them. But refusing every beck and call at work is the only personal boundary he has. He cannot have many boundaries for himself at home or anywhere else. He has to decline not one but two calls for his own sanity. Nevermind that he works Monday through Saturday, nine to five, to make enough money to keep them healthy and happy. Where is the break? There is none. This is Don's glorious purpose.

Mobius leaving the TVA is understandable for two crucial reasons: One, it is a reminder of all his horrifying acts and complicity. Two, it is a reminder Loki is no longer there. But by leaving the TVA, Mobius separates himself from his only support system. That's not good. That is decidely unhealthy. The fact that it doesn't cross B-15, Casey, or OB's minds that this is a very bad idea tells you everything you need to know about the number of genuinely close friends Mobius has.

Mobius has two. He walked away from one to be with the second, and the second walked away from him, too. TWICE.

But he still loves him anyway.

When you take a man like this and take away everything that's kept him functional: the TVA, Ravonna, Loki, and then show him a content life in which he cannot even be with his own children because another version of him already exists, what do you think will happen to him given we've seen how violently Mobius can snap?

And guess what: only one person has ever seen Mobius snap on more than one occasion. Only one person understands the triggers and how to handle them. I'll give you three guesses as to who it is.

Mobius "has a happy ending" is absolute bullshit. He is at risk.