#can't even sit in a car without somehow someone saying something like I'm not even saying shit dude

[futuristicallyshadowyface]

Can't even come back from a fucking hair cut in peace bro it's always "yeah everyone actually hates you" like my GOD why is my name always in your fucking mouth find something else to talk about

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Help me! I'm hypnotized...

The loser roommate I got stuck with did something to my brain. I didn't think it was possible, but that pathetic fag somehow put me in a trance. I don't remember how: with a pendant or spiral; but it doesn't matter! What matters is that at any second he can say a trigger word, and I end up like this: smiling and flexing like a fucking idiot 'till he releases me.

Sure, I look like I'm alright, but I've been stuck in this pose for two hours. My biceps ache and my shoulders are on fire. Add to that a leg cramp that I cant walk off and you'll realize how awful this torture is.

I'd just been trying to finish an essay (his essay to be exact.) I might be on the football team, but this lazy geek is forcing me to do his homework for him! And even though he ordered me to do that, against my will, he calls me up and says my fucking trigger word! It's fucking ridiculous! I used to go out and party with my teammates on nights like this, but now I'm stuck being this dweeb's mannequin-on-command.

I just know he's going to boss me around when he finally gets here. He'll probably make me cook him dinner again. I'd spit in it if I could -hell, I'd probably poison it if I could- but I know I'll be stuck in my own body again. I hate it when he tells me to smile and serve him like a waiter. God, its humiliating...

He makes me workout during my free time, which I have a lot of now that I can't speak to any of my old buddies. I gotta say that my body's never looked better. I guess their is one upside to being under his control: whenever he tells me to train harder, I have to do it.

The gym is the one area of my life where I can at least pretend that I'm not someone's trained monkey. Still, the fact that I can't even shower without his permission is a pretty harsh reminder. Whenever I get back from a workout, my legs march straight to the table where I sit, flex, and smile while I wait for him to tell me what to do. It doesn't matter how tired or hot I am. Sometimes, he doesn't even let me shower. He just tells me to mop the sweat up with my shirt and then put it back on.

I think the nerd has a thing for sweaty jocks or something. The thought of this creep making me do all this to get his little dick hard pisses me off more than anything...

I applied for a job today. It wasn't because I wanted to. My roommate decided that he wants more spending money, so he turned to me and said that I was going to earn it for him. So it wasn't enough for me to be his personal chef, maid, and eye candy! I have to be his fucking ATM now too?!

The tie wasn't my idea either. He told me to go buy some fancy clothes to make sure I impressed my "future employer." He's such a dweeb, and now he's making me dress like a loser too.

Obviously I nailed the interview. It wasn't hard when he programmed me to say things like "I've always wanted to deliver pizzas," or "I want to be the best employee you've ever had!" He made me sound like such a kiss-ass for a stupid minimum-wage job. Even the guy interviewing me thought I was being a bit excessive! I got hired on the spot, and I'm already scheduled every night this week, because my roommate specifically made me ask for as many hours as possible.

Now that I'm done with probably the most humiliating thing I've ever done, I'm stuck flexing with a tie on 'till that asshole gets home...

I got my first paycheck after a long couple of weeks doing his classwork during the day and delivering pizzas at night. My roommate texted and told me to wait by the front door with my paycheck. Apparently, he's going out tonight with some of his loser friends and wants the cash now. I can't believe I'm about to hand it over to him.

"Hey, handsome," he calls, shutting his car door.

"I'm glad your home, sir. How was your day?"

I do not give a shit about his day! He ordered me to say that whenever he gets back. He's also programmed me to get up and hug him like I'm a fucking queer in love!

"Better now," he purrs, squeezing my butt cheek while we hug, "You should come with me and my friends tonight."

The last thing I want to do is be around him and his pansy-assed friends. "Yes, sir," I smile.

"We're going to a gay bar, and I think you would be an excellent wingman."

My stomach drops at the sound of a gay bar. I don't want to be anywhere near that place, and I really don't want the guy with total control over me parading me around that place like I'm his fucking slut! Where is this going? He wouldn't make me do anything gay, right? The terrifying truth is he could. He could order me to act like a stripper there, or...or worse. Fuck! I don't think there's anything he couldn't make me do. He could order me on my knees right now, and I'd do it with this stupid smile still plastered across my face. He could make me blow his tiny cock, and I'd be helpless to do anything other than enthusiastically suck! I don't want to go to that gay bar. I have to escape.

"Yes, sir," I hear my voice gleefully ring out.

[reiderwriter]

◇ Fixated ◇

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: You're determined to keep both your job and your relationship intact when there are rules against dating your coworkers. Your boyfriend is more determined to keep his tongue on certain parts of you he enjoys very much.

Warnings: Day 24 of Kinktober - Oral Sex, Munch!Spencer, multiple orgasms, face sitting, begging, slight BDSM themes, Spencer is a dom if you squint, reader calls herself a whore idk man this one just got me feeling some feelings.

A/N: I'm loving being back on track with posting now, and I'm hoping to get through a lot more of these tomorrow to finish up all the posts this week! Sorry again for all the late kinktober posts, but i hope you're enjoying them now that they're here 🥰

Months into your wonderful job in the BAU, and your possibly more wonderful relationship with Spencer Reid, you were all too aware of the horror stories of office relationships.

You'd spent enough time around a tipsy and lamenting David Rossi to know that there were some serious rules against office fraternisation, and every time those conversations happened, you felt a chill run down your spine at the thought of losing your job, or losing Spencer or both.

Spencer didn't seem to have such qualms. And recently, he was getting loud about his indifference to such rules.

From early into your relationship (read: since you'd first fucked and then decided you had feelings too), Spencer had been open about just how much he enjoyed pleasuring you. Before he'd even put a finger on your clit he'd fallen to his knees, and you'd somehow gasped out a sarcastic "so it's safer to kiss down there, too?" at him as he glared at you from his place between your legs.

You'd joked about his oral fixation many a time, catching him licking his lips as he stared at you like he wanted to eat you, or the way he enjoyed watching you with his fingers in your own mouth too.

Fact of the matter was, you could count the number of times you'd had sex without him spreading your legs and eating you out like a man starved on one hand. But that had always been with you on your back, in your own home, on your own bed.

Now, he wanted more.

He wanted your entire cunt and ass sat on his face, and he wanted it in the shitty motel you were staying in while on a case.

"Y/N, please, want to taste you so bad." He whispered into your ear as you poured yourself some shitty precinct coffee, waiting for the end of the day as you wrapped up your recent case.

You had one night left in the motel until you could be back at home

Honestly, you were going to give in, but there was something about his desperation that had you on edge, so sure that you were about to get caught because he wanted to make you cum so badly, and suffocate himself in the process.

"Spencer, not the time or place. What if someone hears you?"

"I don't care who hears, I just want you."

The words sent shivers up your spine and you were about to reply when Hotch walked in and dismissed you to your motel rooms, telling you to rest up for the night before the flight home in the morning.

Before Spencer could open his mouth again and say something incriminating, you had to beat him to the punch.

"Spencer, you can finally read that book I was going to lend you. It's in my room, you know the one I did the oral exam on in college." It was giving in, but you were still going to enjoy it as much as you possibly could, starting with teasing him the entire way there.

"Sure. Can I come pick it up now? We're driving back together anyway, right?" You nodded, and the two of you shuffled back to the car, trying to contain yourselves and walk a normal pace to not betray your obvious excitement.

The minute you're inside the motel room, he practically jumps you, pressing his lips to yours between small gasps for breath.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you, can't wait to taste you again." He can barely keep his lips off you while he straps you down, and you barely protest him taking such control, his eagerness doing a lot to dispel any hesitancy you may have had about seating yourself on his face.

"Are you sure?" You stutter out trying to ignore the shivers he's sending down your spine as his hands ghost over your clit, making sure your body wants this and is prepped for his tongue.

"I've never been so desperate for something in my entire life." Sitting himself on the bed, he greedily pulled you over him, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you suddenly into his mouth.

Shocked by his fast motions, you gasped out, grasping the rickety bedpost at first, trying to keep your breathing steady and your weight mostly off of him as he began assaulting your dripping cunt.

You'd been aroused before, now you were damn near feverish with want.

"Fuck Spencer," you whispered, hearing the sound of voices in the next room. It sounded like Hotch calling Beth and Jack to tell them he'd be returning soon. Wrapping a hand around your mouth to suppress the moans your thighs squeezed together quickly before you tried to relax as he continued.

He didn't respond but simply yanked you down further into him, slapping your ass to let you know he could take more of you, that he needed more.

You tried to fight it, but with his tongue so expertly working its way along all your sensitive spots and his nose wedged up towards your clit, you couldn't help but settle deeper onto him.

Panting like a whore, you began rocking yourself against him even as he worked you through your first orgasm, not showing any signs of slowing anytime soon.

Usually he'd mollified himself with one oral orgasm and then pushed into your cunt to spend himself inside you, but this time, he obviously wasn't finished yet.

Your entire body twitched in over stimulation, trying to pull away from his lavishing tongue, but his grip was strong, and your legs like jelly. You couldn't move as he pushed you over the edge with his tongue and mouth a second, third, and fourth time, enjoying how you gushed into his mouth across the hours.

You really had to collapse that last time, though, finally prying your lips open and using your safe word to ensure that he knew to stop.

"Good girl, baby, well done. You made me very happy, baby, you know that, right?"

You smiled faintly as you noticed the tent in his boxers, rolling over onto your back and spreading your legs.

"If you're done with your head between my legs, I can think of something else I want there."

He smiled like a kid in a candy shop and rolled back over you, ready to deal with the ache in his cock, kissing you with your own juices staining his lips.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Dating Jason Todd General Headcannons

warnings: nothing graphic but there are a few bed preferences in there without being descriptive

He's a very veryyyy touchy person

There is not a time in your entire relationship where he doesn't have his hands on you somehow

he wants you to sit in his lap and be cuddled up against his chest, wants his hand on your thigh, pinkies linked, holding your hand, touching shoulders while standing close together, literally anything

He's a total big spoon almost always

He likes to engulf you and it makes him feel like you're safe

Also likes it when you use his chest or stomach as a pillow

"Don't you have a pillow to sleep on Y/N/N?" "yea, I'm using it doofus."

He likes to sleep on top of you and have you scratch his scalp or run your fingers through his hair

has him out like a light

Jason is a heavy sleeper so if you move around a lot, it won't bother him

That being said, it's hard to wake him up from a nightmare

sometimes you can't wake him up and have to let him ride it out and wake up on his own

He HATES waking up alone and will tightly wrap his arms and legs around you when he sleeps

He likes being able to do things separately but in the same room

maybe you're working on a case and he's reading Jane Austin or something

He really prefers a vigilante S/O because he knows they can take care of themselves

it's one less thing for him to worry about if you can roundhouse someone three times your size

He really thinks that it's hot when you get aggressive on patrol or missions

gets hot and bothered very easily

he's not one to say anything degrading while you two are in the sheets

he's more like a really sweet and attentive type that can also get aggressive but never mean

he's not into choking, sorry but no- you two have been choked to near death enough and he doesn't find anything attractive about it

He also isn't the type to immediately want to get it on the moment you're in shorts or have your shirt off or something

Like he'll tell you that you're fine as hell but he's not immediately a dog towards you unless you want to do anything

He's the kind of person that you can be very very comfortable around

Likes to ride his motorcycle with you since it's another chance for you two to be close

is a hype man and is the kind of person that you take shopping with you

He'll always be bias towards red though

I don't know that I'd say that Jason is the type of person that is sleeping around with everyone

I think that he's had a few relationships before (maybe like 2 or 3, 4 at most) but he's not going around the neighborhood

Is extremely protective and loyal

Like would not even think about doing ANYTHING that could hinder your trust towards him

He is the type to open your car doors and open the door into a building and order for you if you want and walk closest to the road

if scary dog privileges were a human

Jason is the sweetest little thing but he looks like he can snap anyone like a twig with his pinky

He likes being held

Please wrap this man in your arms for a few hours

that's ultimately all he wants

He doesn't have a boobs or butt preference and generally just loves everything about you

There's no being insecure in this house y'all

"What'd you say about yourself?" "Jason it's really not a big deal, I just don't like this scar from that sword fight a few years back." "You know what Y/N, no, uh uh, sit down and let me tell you something you literal angel"

goes on and on and on and on about how perfect you are

Sticks his head under your shirt

It's a common occurrence

ultimately, Jason just wants love

that's it, that's all the puppy wants

He really likes to cook for you since it's very domestic

He likes anything domestic, even cleaning the house or doing something mundane like the dishes

it makes him feel at home with you

he's the one that buys the candles in the house since I think he would secretly have really good taste in things like that

takes care of himself really well after he was resurrected in the Lazarus Pit

uses nice shampoo, conditioner, washes his face and moisturizes, shaves often, he's down to do face and hair masks with you at any point

[whisperofwonder]

Departures & Arrivals

Timeskip!Iwaizumi Hajime x reader (gender neutral)

POV: You are one of Iwaizumi's college classmates in California, and there's definitely something between you, but it takes two trips to the airport to figure out exactly what.

2k words | Slight angst with a happy ending

You navigate through the crowded lanes in front of the airport, finally coming to a stop in front of the correct gate. Hajime turns to you before reaching for the door handle.

"Thanks for dropping me off," He says for what's probably the fifth time. "I really appreciate it."

"Of course," You wave it off, "There's no way I'd let you pay the crazy prices for an uber. We're broke college students." You laugh, and he answers it with a smile. "You need me to help get your luggage?"

"No," He shakes his head, "I've got it. Don't bother getting out." You nod, and he finally opens the door as you pop the trunk. You roll the window down as he turns for the door, pulling his suitcase behind him.

"Have a good time back home!" You call out. "Send lots of pictures!" He turns back and lifts his hand in a wave.

"Of course I will," He promises, flashing you one last smile before he turns to go. You watch his retreating back for a few moments before rolling the window back up and putting your car in drive.

It's bittersweet, watching him leave. You know he's been looking forward to going back home for a few weeks this summer, and that he's been feeling a little more homesick than he'll admit. Still, your life is going to feel just a little bit emptier without him around.

You sigh, turning the music up a few notches as you pull onto the highway. You can't get the evening a few weeks ago out of your head.

The two of you had been dancing around it for months. Your friends recognized it in the mildly flirtatious back-and-forth, the way you always ended up sitting with your shoulders touching, and that you somehow found a way to spend nearly every weekend together. You recognized it in the tug in your middle that you felt whenever he was around, in the strange certainty starting the moment you met him that this was someone you've known all your life. Someone you connected with on a level you didn't even realize existed. You'd never felt this way before.

"Hajime, I really like you!" You'd finally blurted out. You aren't sure if that means exactly the same thing in Japan as it does to you, but judging by the look on his face, you can only assume it does. For a few moments, he only looked at you, different emotions playing across his face, then closed his eyes with a heavy sigh.

"I can't," He finally said, sharply, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, that was - I mean -" He paused, and you watched him parsing the English together in his head, heart falling into the pit of your stomach. "I can't do that to you." He said more softly. "I - I've thought about it," He admits. "But I don't want something... casual." He finally settled on the word. You're left reeling, because he's admitted to having feelings for you and turned you down in the same breath.

"And after I graduate, I know I'm going back to Japan," He continued, "And I can't ask you to deal with whatever that involves. I can't ask you to choose between me and the rest of your life. So I think it's better if we just stay friends." He paused. "Because I do want to be your friend. I think you're pretty great," He added with a small, sad smile.

Even turning you down, he's the nicest guy you've ever known. "Okay," Is all you could say, softly, pasting on a brave smile. "Friends, then."

It's not as though you haven't considered what it would mean, being in a relationship with him. You do have a life here in the U.S., and a family, but you're confident in knowing that it's something that will always be here, waiting for you, no matter where life takes you. With your major, you know you could find work anywhere. Even before meeting Hajime, you'd had dreams of living abroad. Japan doesn't sound like such a bad choice.

You haven't told him this, not in so many words. You don't want him to think this is something you're saying just to be with him. The future is a big thing to promise on what might turn into a few dates before you decide to go your separate ways. Still - if he was open to it, you'd be willing to try.

The next morning, you wake up to a message letting you know he'd arrived safely, shortly followed by a photo of the Sendai airport. You smile at your phone, telling him you're glad that he made it home.

The following days are punctuated by photos and messages, painting you a picture of a place called Miyagi - somewhere you'd had no reason to know existed until you'd met a certain dark-haired sports-science major. Suddenly, it seems like a very important place indeed.

You reciprocate, sharing snapshots of your hometown, places you can't help thinking you'd love to share with him in person. As time passes, the messages grow more and more frequent, and longer as you try to cram exactly how much you miss him between the words without admitting as much.

One morning, you've just poured yourself a cup of coffee and curled up on the sofa to enjoy it when your phone rings. To your surprise, Hajime's name shows up on the screen.

"Hello?" You answer hesitantly, a little worried at first that something might be wrong.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?" Even across the phone line, the sound of his worried voice is a welcome sound.

"No," You laugh softly, "I just poured my coffee." You lift the mug to your lips and take a sip.

"Good," He says in a huff of relief. "Time zones are weird."

"They are," You agree with a chuckle. "So, what's up?"

"I couldn't sleep, and - I thought I'd call you. Texting isn't quite the same," He admits. You picture him, maybe sitting cross-legged on the bed in his childhood bedroom, and you press your smile to the rim of your coffee mug.

"No," You agree. "It's not." You haven't ever really talked on the phone with him before. You saw him so often, you hadn't ever felt the need to, but this is nice. "How is it being back in Japan?"

"It's been really great," He says quickly. "Seeing my parents and my friends again has been nice. In a way, it almost feels like I never left. But is it weird that I also kind of miss California?"

"No," You say softly, biting back the fact that you miss him. "California misses you, too," You say more lightly, drawing out a warm chuckle from him that you feel in the pit of your stomach.

"What about you?" He asks then, "Anything exciting going on?"

You shift to a more comfortable position, hugging a throw pillow to your middle and taking a breath. You hadn't known how to share this with him via text. "Well, I just heard back from this company in Norway. They're really interested in having me work for them, starting with an internship this fall. I could transfer to a university there to finish my degree."

"Oh," He says quietly, and you hum in response. "That's great!" His voice brightens, but it sounds fake even through the phone. "So... you would move to Norway?"

"Yeah, I would," You confirm. "If I decide to accept," You add. "I think living abroad would be exciting." You aren't dropping any hints, you tell yourself. Just stating the facts. A year ago, Norway would have done just as well as Japan, or any country, really. A year ago, you probably would have already accepted this opportunity by now.

"That sounds like a great opportunity," He says, "I'm happy for you."

Are you really? You want to ask, but you don't.

"Thanks," you say instead, and find an excuse to move on to another topic. You chat about his travels in Japan with his friends, and your recent trip up the California coast. By the time the conversation winds down, things feel almost normal between the two of you again.

"I should let you get to sleep," You say finally, after he stifles yet another yawn.

"Yeah," He says reluctantly, "You're probably right." He pauses. "One last thing," He adds. "You can totally say no, but would you mind picking me up at the airport when I get back? My flight gets in on August 9, at 4pm. I can always ask Adam to do it if you-"

"I'll be there," You say quickly, before he can finish. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay," You can hear the smile in his voice. "Thanks."

For a few moments after you hang up, you don't move from the couch. Talking to him again, hearing his voice, it stirred up everything you'd been trying so hard to keep at bay.

As the days pass, your correspondence is relegated to shorter messages and quick photos. Things between you feel just a little more stilted than before. Slowly, you're beginning to accept the truth, something you'd been trying so hard to ignore.

I can't just be your friend. You've practiced it over and over in your head. It's going to hurt to say, but you can't go on like this. If Hajime doesn't want to try to make a relationship work - and you can't blame him if he doesn't - then it will be better for both of you if you don't see each other anymore. You even have your perfect escape route - Norway. You tell yourself you'll wait to give them your final answer until after August 9.

Driving to the airport, the gnawing pit in your stomach grows with every mile. This may be one of the last times you see him. You're terrified that you'll chicken out before you can even give your carefully planned speech. You're terrified it can only lead to goodbye. You can't even allow yourself a sliver of hope, because it will only hurt that much more in the end.

Waiting in the lineup of cars, you watch the streams of people passing by for a familiar face. Craning your neck, you finally catch sight of him stepping through the doors, and you can tell the moment he spots you, because a smile breaks across his face. You clench your fist to strengthen your resolve.

Getting out of your car, you move to the trunk, making sure there's plenty of space. It looks like he's returned with an extra suitcase. When he finally approaches the car, only a few feet from you, you look up at him again. "Welcome back!" You say, attempting to put as much cheer in your voice as possible.

He doesn't answer, and instead lets go of his suitcases and strides purposefully through the remaining space between you. Before you can react, his lips are on yours, a hand at the back of your neck to keep you steady. You let out a small, surprised sound before you return the kiss automatically, fingers bunching into the material of his t-shirt as if to prove to yourself that he's really here in front of you - really kissing you like he means it.

When he finally pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and he's breathing heavily. "I want to see where this goes," He says breathlessly. "I want to be with you, if you'll have me?" What a silly question, as if the way you'd shamelessly pressed back into his kiss hadn't been answer enough. You can't help but smile back.

"Yes," You say quickly, eyes searching his face, taking in very part of him.

"I know it won't be easy," He adds, "And I know we'll have to be long distance, at least for a little, but I want to try. I want to put in the work, because I know it will be worth it."

"Yes!" You say again, giddy laughter bubbling up, "I'm ready," You nod, "I'm ready to do whatever it takes. To be with you." Your smile feels like it's splitting your face in half.

There are long conversations ahead. There's so much to discuss, and so much to prepare for. It won't all be easy. For now, though, Hajime pulls you close and kisses you again, the press of his lips assuring you that, no matter what, it will be worth it.

[seat-safety-switch]

You can complain about most municipal services. Everyone knows I do, from my tragically short run as the newspaper's op-ed editor, to my aborted runs for mayor, governor, and chancellor of the modern art museum. That's not to mention when I visit the local bars to eat free peanuts and watch hockey, bitching loudly about local politics the entire time without buying anything. You can't be down on the firefighters, though.

As someone who has a lot of direct and indirect experience dealing with flames, I know that I can rely on the firefighters even when my own honed skills and equipment fail me. For instance, their trucks often are able to summon a vast quantity of water, much more than my squirt bottle full of rainfall can muster. They're always there when I screw up.

Recently, though, the primitive greed-heads in government have decided not to give them a raise, because they want to "keep taxes low." Here's a free bar rant for you: taxes are imaginary. Money is made up. We should be giving much more of it to the people who run into burning buildings. People like Bob Peplinski, the brave soldier of hot-gases removal who risked his life to deal with that cracked brake line I knew was routed a little bit too close to that hot exhaust last Tuesday on my way to work. He saved most of the car! Didn't even ask for a tip, which is more than I can say for the pizza boy who ran over the neighbour's mailbox.

Bob should be given as much money as he needs. He should have a big-assed pension, so that he has ample retirement time to sit on the beach and miss the adrenaline rush of putting out a tire fire that I probably also started. It's time to do the right thing, and raise taxes on the selfish megacorporations like General Motors, who can't even make a car that goes sixty-five years of deferred maintenance without bursting into flames just because I ran it out of oil and somehow shot a valve all the way through the exhaust piping, out the hole in the muffler, and into the fuel tank.

I'm doing my own part keeping these folks on their toes. They'd probably get bored without me, and start setting fire to houses or something instead. It takes a village, people.

[if-mirrormine]

i'll always save you

summary: grayson is called out on a case involving the mc.

pairing: grayson x mc

word count: 8029

based on the request: i was wondering what would happen if grayson got a call while on duty that mc crashed into a river somehow, and when they get there, mcs body isn't in the car, but there's evidence their body was there, like blood or broken glass, but mc happened to get out of the car and swam to the bank/shore of the river? like mcs just laying on the shore, soaked, out of breath, and kinda injured👀

**unedited//me? writing a drabble at 1 a.m.? it's more likely than you think.**

request a drabble here!

grayson sits idly at his desk, his leg bouncing up and down as he flicks in his pen between his index and middle fingers. he's bored. it's a slow night, which he should be grateful for, but the lack of crime means only one thing: paperwork. mountains of it. taking up the entirety of his desk and blocking his view of the other half of the precinct. perhaps if he didn't put off the task until last minute he wouldn't be here now but even with nothing else to, he can't bring himself to do it.

he's just about to convince himself to get to work when kelsey comes into view. he didn't even hear her get up from her desk across from his and walk over. but now that she's in front of him, he's happy to have something else to do.

"i'd ask how its going over here but given that you've been staring into space for the last half hour, i'd say that answers my question." she sits on the edge of his desk, her arms crossed over her chest as she glances down at the files behind her.

"can you blame me?" he sighs before tossing his pen on the desk, leaning back on his chair as he drags his hands through his hair. "i'm this close to blowing my brains out."

quirking up an eyebrow at him, she smiles. "do i need to take your gun and put it on a high shelf somewhere?"

he grins. "aren't i taller than you?"

"semantics," she says, waving him off. "you want something to do?"

resisting the urge to bolt out of his chair and out the precinct, he sits up straighter, entirely more alert at the prospect of getting to put off doing paperwork slightly longer. "why didn't you lead with that?" he questions and she rolls her eyes playfully. "what is it?"

"got a call while you were daydreaming," she says. "some idiot drove their car off a bridge. my money's on drunk driver."

at that, he stands up, whipping his jacket off the back of his chair and pulling it on. "it usually is." looking at his partner, he gestures to the exit. "what are we waiting for? let's go."

sliding off the desk, she rolls her eyes again and follows him out.

the bridge has been cordoned off, the night illuminated by red and blue flashing lights. there's an officer waiting for them when they arrive, explaining what happened without so much as a hello. there had indeed been a drunk driving, swerving in and out of lanes before throwing themselves out of their vehicle and into traffic. they currently sit in the back of an ambulance, mostly unharmed, and their car still sitting on the bridge.

"i though the call was about someone driving off the bridge," kelsey says, confusion twisting her features.

"someone did drive off the bridge, ma'am," the officer says and she narrows her eyes at him. "probably to avoid killing the guy. though they're probably worse off now than if they had run him over."

"probably?" grayson questions. "you mean no ones gone down to check?"

the officer pales slightly, shrinking back into himself as he avoids looking at him in the eye. "n-no, sir. it's really difficult to get down there, we were waiting for more experienced personnel."

"unbelievable." taking a deep breath, grayson fixes the officer with a look that would be sure to kill. "we'll go check. make yourself useful and get the witness statements."

"yes, sir!" the officer runs off quickly, nearly tripping over his feet in an attempt to get away from them.

"do i really look like ma'am?" kelsey asks as they begin walking over.

"what would you have preferred he called you?"

"oh, i don't know... detective montgomery maybe?"

"he probably doesn't know any better," grayson grumbles. "he barely looks old enough to be a highschool student, let alone fresh out of the academy." kelsey snorts as they come to a stop at the side of the bridge. the ravine falls off into darkness at a near ninety degree angle and when he shines his flashlight down, rocks and mud pave the way down to the water. looking at kelsey, he finds she's already looking at him.

straightening her back, she salutes him. "godspeed, soldier."

he sighs at the thought of having to go down there by himself but he doesn't argue the matter. "at least there are paramedics on standby," he says. "i imagine i'll be needing one by the time i get to the bottom."

kelsey grins at him. "on the bright side, you won't have to do any more paperwork."

"because i'll be dead? yeah, i'd sure hope so."

"i'll tell your mother you loved her."

he rolls his eyes in amusement as he begins his descent. his shoes slide slightly in the mud and he has to slow his pace to not fall but after what feels like forever, he makes it to the bottom. the river is oddly calm, the waves lapping softly at his feet and he shines his flashlight over the water in search of the car. in the middle of the river, somewhat under the bridge, black metal sparkles under the light. the tail end of the car stick out of water, the window of the backseat just barely visible and he swings the beam of flashlight around to look for the licence plate.

"how's it looking, gray?" kelsey calls down to him and he glances up at her briefly to see her standing with her own flashlight.

"well it's not great," he calls back. "im looking for the plates."

as soon as the words leave his mouth, his eyes latch onto the sequence of numbers and letters and he quickly realises its one that he's got memorised. his blood runs cold, his heart damn near stops beating and he's filled with all the same dread and panic he felt ten years ago.

mc. it always come back to the mc.

he's in the water before he even knows it. kelsey is calling him again, demanding to know what the hell he's doing and why but he can't think of anything else but his best friend. he has to get to them, he has to save them. nothing else matters.

his own name is the last thing he hears as he dives below the surface, the ice cold water shocking his system that he almost exhales all his oxygen. weighed down by his clothes, he forces his limbs to work even harder and before long, he sees the vague outline of the car in the murky water.

confusion takes over when he presses his face to the passenger side window and sees that the car is empty, the drivers door hanging open. empty. they mustve been able to escape before the car went under. relief begins to take over as he swims to the surface. oh, his brilliant mc.

gasping for the breath when he breaks the surface, he thrashes around, attempting to search for them in the darkness. he dropped his flashlight somewhere between seeing the licence plate and diving in the water, and he regrets not holding onto it a little tighter. he screams their name, hoping with everything fibre of his being that they're nearby and can hear him.

"grayson!" kelsey calls to him and he looks back to see her standing where he did just moments before, having made her way down the ravine when he dived in.

"it's mc!" he calls back. "they made it out; look for them along the shoreline!"

he doesn't wait for her response, instead swimming as fast as he can to the other side of the river. pulling himself out and wiping the water from his eyes, he takes off running again. his panic comes flooding back in full force, the relief he felt dwindling fast the further he goes. he screams their name, over and over again, only to be met by silence each time. not again, he thinks. please not again.

he skids to a stop when he sees a body lying on the shore and he stops breathing for a moment before he's moving again. dropping to his knees beside them, the pale light of the moon illuminating their face and he cries in relief upon seeing its mc. they're bruised and cut up, blood drying on their face but their chest rises and falls ever so slightly and that's enough for him.

"i'm here, mc," he says, pulling them into his arms and eliciting a groan from them. "you're okay." he rises to his feet, holding them close to his chest as he makes his way back to the bridge. he hates the thought of almost losing them a second time but he tries to focus on the positive, of them alive in his arms. pressing a kiss to their hair, he makes a vow to himself to do whatever it takes to keep them safe, no matter the cost.

[yutagfr]

Paring: Gender natural x Ranpo

Content: angst, characters aged up, mention of death,.

Summary: You ride a train every day and notices a mysterious man sitting in the same spot, always with his eyes closed and headphones on, for some reason you feel a connection towards him.

As you step onto the train, the familiar rush of commuters swarms around you like a living entity. You scan the crowded car for an empty seat, your eyes scanning the sea of faces. You spot a lone figure sitting in the corner, headphones plugged in, eyes closed. It's a face you've grown accustomed to seeing on your daily commute – the quiet, reserved commuter known only as Ranpo.

"The Man on the train"

For weeks, Ranpo has been a constant presence on your morning train ride to work. At first, you find his silence disconcerting, but as time passes, you grow used to his gentle hum in the background. His hair is always neatly trimmed, his features soft and unremarkable. He never seems to notice you or anyone else around him, lost in his own little world.

But then, something changes. One day, as you board the train, you notice a small piece of paper slipping out from under his seat. It flutters to the ground, and you pick it up expecting it to be a discarded receipt or advertisement. Instead, it's a handwritten note: "You're doing great today." Your heart skips a beat as you feel a shiver run down your spine. why does he think you need encouragement?

Over the next few days, more notes appear. Each one is a gentle reminder to "keep going" or "Smile" They're anonymous, but somehow, they feel like they're meant just for you.

You start looking forward to seeing Ranpo on the train each day. Not just because he's a constant in your daily routine, but because you're curious about who he is. What does he do? What's his story? And why does he care about you?

As the days go by, Ranpo begins to change. He'll sit with his eyes open, watching you as you board the train. Not staring at you aggressively or anything – just... noticing you. It makes you feel uneasy at first, but also... not bad. Sometimes you would even flash him a small smile.

There's something comforting about knowing that someone is aware of your presence on that crowded train car. It's like having a secret friend who understands you without needing to say a word.

But just when you think things can't get any stranger, Ranpo starts leaving you little gifts. A book will appear on your seat one day, with a note saying "You're reading this" scribbled inside the cover. A coffee will be waiting for you on your seat another day, with a note saying "You deserve this".

It's all so... peculiar. But also kind of wonderful.

You've been thinking about Ranpo for weeks. You can't help but wonder about the notes he leaves for you, the way he seems to be watching you on the train. You felt like the you were getting to know him, even though you've never spoken a word, until today

As you board the train, you make up your mind. You're going to talk to him.

You take a deep breath and approach his usual seat. He's sitting there, headphones still plugged in, eyes closed. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you're being crazy. But then you sit down beside him.

"Hi," You say, trying to sound casual.

He doesn't flinch. Doesn't even open his eyes.

"Hi," he repeats, his voice low and gravelly.

You sit there in silence for a moment, and you start to feel like an idiot. What am I doing? This is too much, too soon.

But then, something makes you take another chance. "Thanks for the notes," You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He opens his eyes, and your gazes meet for the first time. His kind eyes, warm and gentle.

"You're welcome," he says, his voice softer now.

You both talk for a few minutes, exchanging small talk about the weather and our jobs. It's awkward at first, but somehow it feels... Natural.

And then, just as you're getting into the conversation, he stands up and grabs his bag.

"I'm sorry," he says, not meeting your eyes. "I have to go."

Your left sitting there, feeling stunned and confused. Where did he go? And why did he vanish like that?

You look around frantically, hoping to catch a glimpse of him again. But he's gone.

And then it hits you – he's not coming back.

The rest of the day is a blur as you go through the motions of work and routine. But when you get home that night, you check your phone and see that Ranpo hasn't left any notes for you that day. No messages, no gifts. Just... nothing.

It's like he's vanished from your life.

You get off the train at your usual stop, expecting to see him sitting in his usual spot. But he's gone. And when you don't see him the next day or the day after that, you start to feel... lost.

It's not just that he's gone; it's like he's vanished into thin air.

Weeks turn into months, and you start to forget about him. But one day, as you're walking down the street, you see a news headline that makes your heart skip a beat: "Local Man Dies in Tragic Accident."

You stop in your tracks, your mind racing as you read the article. It was Ranpo, and he was a commuter on your very same train line.

You feel like you've been punched in the gut. All those notes... all those quiet moments of connection... it had all been him. And now he's gone.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you think about all those times you shared on that train. The notes had been more than just words on paper; they had been a connection between two strangers. And even though you only spoke a word to each other, you feel like you've lost something precious.

You take a deep breath and let the grief wash over you. For Ranpo, and for the chance you really never had to really talk

You been thinking about Ranpo for weeks. You can't help but wonder about the notes he leaves for you, the way he seems to be watching you on the train. You feel like you were just getting to know him. But then, without warning, he vanished. No explanation, no goodbye. Just... gone.

The days blended together in a blur of tears and sorrow. You spent hours locked away in your room, replaying memories of Ranpo's quiet encouragement, reliving the moments you shared on that train. You felt like a part of you had been ripped away, leaving a gaping hole that could never be filled.

But amidst the grief, one thought kept nagging at you: the song. The song Ranpo had listened to every day on the train. You remembered it was always playing softly through his headphones, a constant hum in the background. But you couldn't quite recall what it was.

You spent hours scouring the internet, searching for any clue that might lead you to the elusive tune. You asked friends and family if they recognized it, but no one did. It was as if Ranpo had taken the song with him.

And then, one day, it hit you. A glimmer of inspiration struck as you stumbled upon an old music blog. You scrolled through the archives, searching for anything that might match the melody you remembered. And then, it appeared: "First Day of My Life" by Bright Eyes.

You pressed play, and the soft melody washed over you like a wave. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you remembered his quiet humming along with the music.

From that day on, "First day of My Life" became your daily companion. Every morning on your way to work, every evening on your way home, you'd listen to the song on repeat. It was like having a piece of him with you still.

As you settled into this new routine, something strange started to happen. On your daily commute, when you got on the train and found your usual seat, something felt... different. A stranger sat down in Ranpo's old seat – the exact same spot where he used to sit every day.

Your heart skipped a beat as you felt a shiver run down your spine. For a moment, you wondered if it was really him – if somehow, someway, Ranpo had come back to life.

But as you looked into the stranger's eyes, you saw nothing but kindness and curiosity staring back at you. He didn't know anything about Ranpo; he was just another commuter on his way to work.

And yet... and yet... as you looked at him sitting in that familiar seat, something warm spread through your chest. It was like his presence still lingered there, a reminder that even though he was gone, his memory lived on.

You smiled slightly as the stranger caught your eye and smiled back. Maybe it was just your imagination playing tricks on you – or maybe it was something more profound. But in that moment, surrounded by the familiar hum of the train and the gentle melody of "First day of My life", you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

Ranpo might be gone, but his still lived on – not just in memories and notes, but in the quiet connections we make with strangers on crowded trains every day.

And as the days turn into weeks, and the weeks turn into months... You start to forget about him. But sometimes, in your dreams, you'll still see his face – kind eyes and warm smile – and wake up feeling like something is missing.

You we're left with only the memories and those notes, which seemed to hold a deeper meaning now that he was gone. You'd reread them over and over, searching for clues about who he was and where he'd gone.

You started to forget about him. Life went on, and you threw yourself into your work and routine. But sometimes, late at night, you'd find yourself thinking about him again. Wondering what had become of him, where he'd gone.

[nowoyas]

vespertine: evening blooms 1 - nishinoya yuu/cat hybrid!reader

Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: ow my wrists but happy noya week! I slightly changed the title to flow a bit better and updated chapter numbers to reflect the prologue chapter being a prologue. if you're in the path of the hurricane I hope you're safe!

Summary: Yuu gets the alley cat treated.

Warnings: blanket series warnings, implied medical abuse/forced sterilization, nonsexual nudity

Words: 2300+

one: veterinarians

"You know I don't specialize in hybrids, right?" Kaede breathes, exasperated, over the phone. "I treat animals. Like, cats. Dogs. The rare iguana. A tarantula that one time. Nothing resembling a human or a hybrid."

"I know! But, listen—it—she?—the hybrid—is hurt. I can't just leave it to bleed out in the alley. Mama Kitty and her babies live there. Don't you have, like, coworkers who specialize in hybrids?"

She sighs. "I know one hybrid specialist in Tokyo. I'll give him a call, but, listen, he might not answer if he sees it's me. If he doesn't, you're on your own. Give me a sec."

There's silence on the other line. Noya paces his bedroom nervously, eying you propped up in the corner. You're just sitting there, catatonic except for the shivering, the way you refuse to let your eyes leave him. He stops at the closet, determines to find something else for you to wear that's not an ill-fitting hospital gown. If Kaede manages to get her colleague to help out, he's gonna need to get you on the bike somehow, and you don't exactly seem fit to cling to him for however long that ride will be. He's already checked that Mei took the car, so…

Fuck it. He finds one of his looser shirts and a pair of shorts to dress you up in and starts digging through his closet for his harness. He'd bought it as a joke when Mei was too much of a baby to ride with him, but if he's still got it, he can't imagine how strapping you to him would hurt. At least, not worse than whatever the fuck happened to you.

Like magic, Kaede clicks back onto the line.

"Alright, listen," she says, voice clipped. "I've got him on the line. You still there?"

"Yeah," he says as he crouches in front of you. "We're still here."

"Cool. I'm putting him through, and then I'm going to bed. That cool?"

"Yeah, of course. Sorry for waking you up."

"No problem. Can't say you did the wrong thing, just…"

"And Nee-san?"

"Mm?"

"Thanks."

Silence. There's a click, and then a stranger's voice filters through his phone speakers.

"Alright, what's going on?"

~

Kaede's hybrid specialist is more than helpful. Texts him the address to go to, advises him on how to protect your ears and tail on the ride if he absolutely has to put you on his bike to get there. Hirugami says he'll be at the vet's in 20 and when he checks the address, Noya finds it's only ten minutes away.

The hard part, in those twenty minutes, is getting you dressed. He looks you in the eye nervously as he sets the phone aside. It'll be uncomfortable, but you're not in much state to change yourself, and there's no way he has you wearing a thin tissue hospital gown on the back of a motorcycle. Honestly, the clothes he picked out for you are also ill-advised for riding, but he figures riding clothes would only bother the wound on your stomach, poor bandaging job or no.

But… you're pliant when he reaches for you. You don't shy away from his hand, though you also don't look away from it. "Listen, I'm going to take you to someone who can help you, but I'm gonna need to put you on my bike, which means you're going to have to borrow some clothes. Is it alright if I help you get changed?"

You blink, noncomprehending. Your tail flicks at the air.

Alright then.

He does his best to look only as much as is necessary, to slip you out of the hospital gown without jostling your injured ear (still flecked with blood) and into the new clothes as soon as possible.

"Fuck's sake," he breathes, pointedly forcing himself to look at where he left the shirt and not acknowledge your completely bare body on display.

No underwear. Nothing but that pathetic excuse for a hospital gown. He suppresses his blush, carefully tugs the shirt down over your head and maneuvers your arms into the sleeves.

First naked person I've seen in years, and it's a cat hybrid on its deathbed. Living it up here, Noya.

He manages to slip the shorts up your legs and tug them into place as best he can without pulling them over the base of your tail, then, as an afterthought, tugs you into his best leather jacket and gets the harness on you. It's also been a while since anyone was on the back of his bike, but at least you're light. Shouldn't have too much effect on the handling.

Finally, he steals some scarves from Mei's closet, ties them firmly around your head and chin to cover the ears. You cry out at the feeling, looking at him with teary eyes, and he wills himself to stay strong.

"I know, I know, it's uncomfortable. This is so I can get a helmet on you and protect your ears, alright? I don't think you'll like the wind in them very much."

Your bottom lip quivers, and he nearly breaks.

Before he can do the irresponsible thing, as he's so frequently wont to do, he turns around and clips your harness around his waist. He lifts you on his back with ease, and then you're off.

~

Hirugami Sachiro is having a weird night.

First his ex girlfriend calls, not about the tremendous train wreck that their relationship had been, but about work of all things, begging him for a favor and look, Yuu's a good kid, I don't know what he's mixed up in, but he's got a hybrid that he insists is on the verge of death and doesn't know where to take it.

He knows that she'd be smart enough to handle it herself. Sure, she was an animal vet, not a hybrid vet, but Kaede Nishinoya is brilliant. He once swore that vet school was a formality for her more than it taught her anything. He has no doubt she could take all her training and adapt it to hybrids on the spot in just about any emergency.

And, well, he can't say no to her, even after all this time.

So Hirugami's ex's little brother is waiting outside the hybrid hospital when he arrives at nearly four in the morning, a hybrid on his back and a bike parked nearby. When the kid sees him, he jolts, rushes up like the hybrid on his back weighs nothing—and, at a second glance, that seems about right.

"You're the one Nee-san put me in contact with, right?" he says quickly. "Thank you so much for helping. I—I don't know what's wrong with her."

"How long have you kept a hybrid?" Hirugami asks, eying him suspiciously. "How old is she?"

"Dude, I literally found her in the alleyway outside my apartment building. I don't know shit about her."

He sucks in a breath. "Alright. We'll get to that once I get a look at her. Let's get her inside."

It's not the first time he's seen a rescue come through, but it's the first one that's made him so deeply angry. He lets the feeling simmer, because it won't help to go on a rant to his ex's little brother about just how fucked up it is. He runs his tests, makes his notes. Checks for a microchip and is both pleased and pissed to find nothing.

No owner on record. No records to deal with, or piece of shit to be legally obligated to return it to.

And no one to file a report against.

The kid waits in the darkened waiting room, screwing around on his phone with a distinctly worried expression as Hirugami works. At one point, he does manage to bring in an assistant with the promise of bonus pay, which is a massive help, although it still takes until sunrise for him to feel comfortable leaving the hybrid behind with his tech and talk to the Nishinoya kid.

"Alright," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm about to give you a lot of information that will make anyone who cares enough to bring in an alley stray mad, so I'm going to ask that you sit down and make use of the provided stress ball instead of anything like yelling, throwing furniture, or breaking lamps. Alright?"

Nishinoya nods, eyes hardening. He grabs for one of the provided stress balls and waits for the news, bouncing in his seat.

"Have you ever heard of a TNR program?" he asks.

The journey Nishinoya's face goes on as he processes it tells him two things. One: he has. Two: it was a good idea to suggest the stress ball. It strains under his grip.

"For like… stray cats, yes. Are you telling me that—"

He holds up a hand. "It's only a theory I have. I scanned her and can't find a microchip, so your alley hybrid either doesn't have a previous owner or the previous owner knew that any vet that found her would immediately file a whole stack of reports against him. It isn't common, and any self-respecting vet would be vehemently against it, but not every vet goes into my field because they care about hybrids. I took some samples for bloodwork to confirm it, but I'd be willing to bet that the tests are going to show some combination of anesthesia and date rape drugs in her system, which would be why she's borderline catatonic. Any vet willing to accept and perform that level of surgery on a hybrid that's been so obviously neglected and clearly isn't at a healthy weight for surgery isn't one I would trust to dose her correctly. Honestly, she's lucky to have survived at all."

Nishinoya sucks in a breath. The tips of his fingers have gone through the stress ball, the tear quiet, but not inaudible, in the closed office. "Okay."

"The ear should heal alright, at least. That's a measure normally done with stray cats to make it easy to identify cats that have already undergone the TNR process before spending resources on trapping them. I'd imagine the motive was the same, and the cut was clean. Right now, it's just tender because it was freshly done."

"Okay."

"There isn't really an industry standard for TNR on a hybrid, so we would need to perform imaging to confirm what, exactly, has been surgically removed. Based on the incision sites, I would guess a total salpingectomy—which removes the fallopian tubes—but again, all of these are assumptions being made with very little information. The incisions were clean, but the sutures have been pulled, which was the source of the bleeding. With your permission, I'd like to keep her here for the day for observation and imaging, to be picked up tomorrow night."

"Right. Okay." He nods. Takes a deep breath. "Is she going to be…"

"It depends on what happens after. She's going to need a lot of care to recover properly, and with the state she's in, I can't even tell you for sure whether she's stray or feral. But, I'd like to ask—what do you plan on doing with her after this?"

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly. "Yeah, I, uh—I don't know. I guess I need to call my sister and figure if she's okay with me bringing a hybrid into the apartment before I make that decision."

Hirugami crouches in front of him to meet his eyes at eye level. "I need you to understand: the state this hybrid is in is not going to make it easy. If you're going to take her in, you need to be prepared for lots of vet check-ins, likely a full course of vaccinations, adapting your home to account for a hybrid resident, nutritional requirements, and more. There's a chance that she'll be feral when she comes down from the anesthesia."

"If she's feral, will it be impossible?"

"No. But it will be extremely difficult. It'll probably be like pulling teeth for even the most basic things for a long time."

He sighs. Pushes himself to stand. "If you're considering it, let me know as soon as you make a decision. It'll be easier to chip her while she's already here, and chipping her is the easiest way to eventually domesticate her, if she ever progresses to the point where you trust her to work or attend school."

Nishinoya looks pale. Hirugami doesn't blame him.

"I don't want to scare you out of it. Honestly, anyone willing to track down a vet for a stranger at three in the morning is someone I trust more than most hybrid owners, as far as actually trying to take good care of them goes, and I know that Kaede would kill you personally if you mistreated the poor thing. I'll send you home with some resources to look over so you can make an informed decision. If you don't take her in, there's other options. You don't have to feel obligated."

He sighs. "Give me the resources. Can I text you when I figure out whether or not you should chip her?"

He nods and disappears behind the reception desk. They keep these packets printed for situations like these—it takes little time at all to find the basic care packet and the Feral care packet in their folders.

"Uh, before I go," Nishinoya says when he has the papers in hand. "Can I… you know. Can I see her?"

Hirugami blinks. "Yeah, of course. Let me walk you back."

Nishinoya doesn't say much when he's brought back to the room where the hybrid is resting. He simply walks up, brushes a gentle hand over her face to brush her hair out of the way. He nods once, mutters something Hirugami can't hear.

"Okay. You'll call me if anything changes?"

"In a heartbeat," Hirugami promises.

"I'll hold you to that."

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

[megu-meow]

i can't lose you either - megumi fushiguro

megumi x fem. reader

Summary: Megumi often tends to risk his own life to save yours.

"You can't just sacrifice your own life to save mine, Fushiguro!" your tears are running down your face like rainfall, breaking Megumi's heart even more. He hates seeing you cry, especially when he's the cause of your tears. Moreover, he can't recall the last time you addressed him so coldly, you always call him either Gumi or Megumi-chan, the annoying nicknames sounding sweet and loving coming from you.

He knows that if he stays right now he will say something even more hurtful, he would break your heart with words he doesn't mean, but his anger and annoyance might bring them out of him. So he doesn't say a word. He picks his jacket up from your bed and leaves your dorm, closing the door carefully. He swore he would never get angry or aggressive with you, he would never raise his voice, he wouldn't do anything to scare you. He just leaves you in your dorm room, with your tears that seem to have doubled in number since he walked out the door.

An hour passes and you fall asleep with puffy cheeks and eyes, your face decorated with salty lines from crying. You wake up later in the night and notice that it's pitch black out and you haven't heard from Megumi since he left. You check your phone, you have a few messages from Gojo-sensei about the next day's lectures and some more from the shared group chat with the other first years, none from your boyfriend though. You even start questioning whether he's still your partner or not, the thought of the two of you breaking up making you even more upset.

So you get up, determined to make the first move towards resolving the issue at hand. You put on his hoodie, the one you stole from him a few weeks into dating, one that complements his porcelain skin and dark features. You love it most because it's cozy, perfectly oversized and somehow always smells like him. You walk out your room without even looking in the mirror as you shuffle all the way to his dorm, your head hanging low. For your surprise, he's not there. You ask Yuji, but he claims he hasn't seen him all day. You call Gojo who doesn't know anything about his whereabouts either and starts dramatically wailing on the phone claiming that "you have to make up because you two are the only reason why he believes in love".

You go to the kitchen, but he's not there either. You start to panic, it's getting way too late and he's nowhere to be found. You go through your contacts to check if there's someone else you could call and ask about his whereabouts. You stumble upon a phone number you haven't used in years and you quickly realise where he ran off to. You call Ijichi to give you a ride and he quickly agrees. As you leave the dorms his black car is already parked in front of the building, you quickly hop in and give him the address. You cannot see it, it's dark out and you are facing his back but he smiles widely, because he was the one to drop off Megumi at the destination hours ago and he knows you're the only one who could have figured out the boy's whereabouts, you're the only one who knows him well enough to do so.

As you arrive at your destination you don't even wait for Ijichi to park the car, you hop out thanking him for the ride and sprint into the building. You take the elevator to the right floor and softly knock on the 3rd door on the left. There's no response, so you slightly open it, seeing the bright light coming from the inside. You spot Megumi sitting on a stool, hunched over the bed, his hand intertwined with the unconscious girl's smaller one. Your lips curl into a soft smile from the picture in front of you. The door behind you clicks as it closes and Megumi bolts up from his slumber, his eyes quickly finding yours. His panicked gaze softens and he quickly gets up to embrace you in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, for walking out on you, I can't stand arguing with you and I didn't want to say anything to hurt you!" he rambles.

"I know, Gumi! I'm sorry too... You scared me, you didn't text me and no one has heard from you all day."

"I used to ask Tsumiki for advice on how to confess my feelings towards you. Then I asked her where to take you for our first date. Then I took her advice on what to get you for our anniversary. I needed her advice on how to make up to you today, but she's in a coma and she couldn't help me. I can't lose you too, y/n! I lost so many people in my life and I'm gonna lose many more. You can't be one of them, I'd rather die than live a life you're not in."

"I can't lose you either, Megumi! You're the most important person in my life, you can't leave me behind, Baka! I need you here, alive and well." you say looking deeply into his desperate eyes, the green orbs softening upon hearing your words.

That's the moment he realised saving your life by risking his own wouldn't solve anything. He has to be there for you, just as much as you he needs you there for him.

[foone]

The rain was coming down in sheets, and it was clearly irritating Rudapedi, putting him on edge... Or keeping him on edge, I guess. It had been only minutes since someone tried to kill us, after all.

"why would they need to transport the stolen weapons across the country, if their final destination is another planet? Couldn't they just warp them out like they warped in?" asks Jay from the driver's seat.

Rudapedi answers with the tone of a college professor who knows they already taught this. "no. When you're going between planets, you have to make use of existing rifts, and they're in fixed locations on the planet's surface. Generally you'd just do a local teleport between them, but I imagine the moonstone caskets made that too difficult to manage, so they resorted to just driving them across the surface manually. Your world sure makes that easy, after all. You know half your entry in the compendium is about these 'automobiles' you're got?"

Rudapedi turns to the car window and all the raindrops pouring down it, looking out with an expression somehow mixing boredom and unease. "And you keep assuming they were stolen. I don't know the details but I would bet that wasn't how they were acquired. The Kalic Empire has deep pockets, Jay. They don't need to steal. I imagine they found whoever is in charge of these weapons and offered them more gold than they could ever spend, or a permanent vacation trip off-world away from the troubles of this rainy planet, to an endless beach where the sun never sets... Or maybe they offered health? I'm sure there's at least one upper commander in your military who is dying slowly of something you can't cure, or has a spouse or child in a similar situation."

Rudapedi is sitting up now, gesturing with a lot of jabbing pointing motions, most in Jay's direction. "I've been here long enough to learn about your medical techniques. Don't get me wrong, they're amazing. Brain surgery? Those... Magnet-things that can see inside people? And your drugs would shame any potion-maker back home. You truly are masters of this craft, far beyond anything in the empire or any unaligned world I've ever heard of.

But you know why we don't have those kinds of abilities? We've never needed them."

Jay doesn't let the bearded wizard's vaguely accusatory tone get to him. "No, I don't suppose you would. If you can just wave a wand and fix someone's broken leg, why invent the splint and the X-ray machine?"

Rudapedi, for his part, is back to looking out the window, with the expression of a cat that begged to be let out only to find it has snowed for the first time in its little life and the backyard it wanted to play in has been covered in a thick blanket of white fluffy nonsense.

The continual beating of rain against the top of the car has turned into sharp "pings" as hail bounces off. "what the hell is that? Why is it BOUNCING?" Rudapedi asks, and you can feel the fuzz on "hell", like the translation spell is underlining it with a red squiggle of inaccuracy in your mind.

"That's hail", you respond. "sometimes when it's cold enough the rain freezes into little balls of ice while they're falling. This is pretty small, all things considered. When they get bigger, they can cause a lot of damage."

Rudapedi's managing to combine his expressions into one only describable as "rapt disgust". He says nothing in reply, only muttering something under his breath that even untranslated you can tell is an oath that's vaguely blasphemous. You wonder how it can go untranslated. Is the spell skipping out on speech that's too quiet or does it filter swears?

The hail continues, only getting louder. With the conversation clearly over (and it would be difficult to talk over the hail without shouting, anyway) you pull on your headset and start reciting words to your tablet, not letting this magical gift of vocabulary go to waste.

[deferred-dreams-of-a-ghostwriter]

Dreams Turned to Strangers part 2

The sun looked bright and warm outside my car window, a clever illusion to hide the lingering cool left from spring rains. I fiddled with my fingers and looked at my father in the front seat, and he smiled at me in response. "I know you haven't seen him in a while, but it's okay. They're not going to leave without you. Besides, you two are best friends. He can't be mad." "I would be mad if I was thirty minutes late," I replied. I blew out a breath. "I just really miss seeing him." "And you'll have a lot of time to catch up." My father stopped the car, and I smiled at him. "Thank you." I opened the car door and stepped out, taking a gift bag with me. "Love you, bye!" I closed the car door and waved at my father from the front door before ringing the doorbell. I hummed as I waited for a response. I was hoping it would be him, but when the door opened I was greeted by another face. "Hello, I'm so glad you're here!" "Hey, but where's the birthday boy?" I asked over the conversation. "I really want to go and say happy birthday." "Oh, yeah, he's upstairs right now," someone said. I replied in thanks and moved towards the stairs. When I reached the top of the stairs, I saw him sitting there, facing away from me. At the sound of my footsteps, he looked at me, and he smiled. As I walked towards him, he rose up and we hugged each other. "It's really been forever since I've seen you," he said. "I've missed you a lot too," I said, separating from him. "Happy birthday." It was weird to see him in person again. Like he had changed the slightest bit, and I was trying to get used to speaking to someone I knew so well, yet I was met with something I had only a passing memory of. But I found myself smiling and laughing with him as our conversation kept winding. Eventually, all of our friends made their way upstairs, and we all fell into the flow of conversation. "Hey, didn't we want to go to the theater?" my best friend said. "The time is pretty soon, we should go now." All of us began trying to figure out who could get a ride with who, and somehow I ended up being in the car alone with my best friend. At my request, he turned on the radio, and soft music floated through the car. Although we were silent, I didn't feel uncomfortable in the least. In fact, I felt a bit sleepy, so I rested my head against the window. I could sense him looking at me. "Are you feeling sleepy?" "Mmhmm, I am." I closed my eyes, and let my breathing even out. People often told me that I seemed asleep when I did so, but I was awake, just waiting for rest. I heard the sound of rustling, and then finally the sound of air flowing through a tube. I opened my eyes, and I saw that my friend was wearing a mask with a tube connected to the ceiling, a white vapor filling the air. I froze. He hadn't looked over at me yet, but he was concentrated on the road, which I could now see was a long black line with only trees and fields lining the side. I held my breath wondering what to do. He looked over to me, and his eyes widened. I needed to leave now. I pulled at the door handle, the door pulling open on my second pull, and I threw myself out the car. The concrete burned into my side as I rolled, and I lay there for a few seconds with my breath knocked completely out of me. I struggled to stand, and I looked over at where the car was. It was starting to stop. Fear drove me to standing, and I started to run. As I ran, I could feel something wet dripping down my face. I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, prompting me to run faster away. But soon I felt a pair of arms encircle me from behind, dragging me down to the ground. I kicked and pushed him away, but my efforts became weaker when he slapped a piece of cloth across my mouth and nose. My breaths came in gasps, and I tried to stop breathing, but my body betrayed me. I inhaled, and one of the last things I knew before darkness enclosed was his murmur of apologies chasing me to sleep.

When I woke up, I felt something cold encircling my wrists and ankles. And the bed I was laying in wasn't mine. I felt some sort of linen or bandage wrapped around my right arm and legs. I turned my head to the side, and saw him. He was standing there with an unreadable expression. "Let me go." My voice rattled against the silence between strangers. He stepped closer to me, and I flinched back. "We were friends," I said. "Please, why are you doing this to me? Let me go.” He sat on the bed and I finally saw his expression was of sorrow. “I’m never letting you go.”

[kuroecchy]

Oh and the pic in the list are not mine, I just found the pics from pinterest

fair warning the theme i chose for my october thingy(?) is completly randome so I have nothing planned for any of them.

English is not my first language.

DAY 1 - "Beautiful"

They were being ridiculous again. Tony Didn’t really care though, Obie had been warning him to be more mindful about what he does cuz it affects the company image or something.

Why should he care what others think? He had been a failure ever since he was born anyways, Howard had made sure he knew that.

Then there was Rhodey. Tony loves his best friend but sometimes it gets suffocating. The young man knows that his friend is only doing it out of genuine care for him but Rhodey doesn’t understand what he’s been through - what he’s going through.

Tony took another chug at the bottle he brought with him from the bar. His body is cold but he’s too out of it to care.

He continues to walk.

He… he doesn't know where he's going. He just needed to get away from them, from his responsibilities, from the fact that his parents - mother - had died, from the fact that Jarvis had died. He just- needed to get away.

His mind kept on going and he just needed it to just- STOP

He was panting without even realizing it. He was out of breath from the walk in the cold.

He tried to calm his breathing down, he looked around the empty road. There were only street lights that accompanied him, a few parked cars, and the falling snow.

It was then that he realized he was lost. He had left in such a hurry that he didn't bring anything with him other than the bottle of wine he's holding. Hell, he's not even dressed for winter.

The cold is starting to seep into his numb senses. Breathing somehow feels like a chore now.

Maybe- maybe he should sit down and- he inelegantly dropped to the ground.

He clutched his head, it's gonna be hell tomorrow morning.

He didn't know how long he'd been there when he heard the sound of crunching snow against boots.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Argh…" he rubbed his tired eyes and looked at the source of the voice.

He was stunned, it was a pair of the most beautiful aquamarine eyes he has ever seen.

The teen waved a hand in front of the older's eyes. Not that Tony noticed it much, he was too busy gawking at the beautiful eyes.

"I'm guessing, not." The teen spoke at Tony's silence.

Perhaps it was because of the alcohol or the fact he was or maybe it was both but he spoke his thoughts out loud, "beautiful."

It was then that the other blushed, or maybe it was the cold. Tony didn't care, he found it cute.

"R-right" the teen stuttered, "you're drunk and you can't stay here with the kind of clothes you're wearing, you'll get hypothermia and I don't want that in my conscience."

He extended his gloved hands and waited a few seconds and after Tony didn't react he spoke, "C'mon we're staying near here right now. You can stay at our place for the night. Then when you're no longer drunk you can find your way home."

He was taken back that the other didn't think he was homeless, he's out in the streets with ruffled clothing and under prepared winter clothing.

He supposed the other saw his confused state. The other simply shrugged.

"Your clothing looks to be of good material and you're holding a bottle of wine based on the smell, I don't think a homeless person would be able to buy those unless you stole them, though I don't think that's the case."

Tony blinked a few moments and the other seemed to be hesitating on saying something before he made up his mind.

"...and your eyes and expression… it's the expression of someone who's tired and just wanna get away from everything…"

And that's it. Tony knew that the teen wouldn't ask what happened and in exchange, he wouldn't ask the other how the teen seems to be so familiar with such an expression.

Silence stood between them. Tony couldn't stand the silence so he broke it with a bit of gallows humor.

"Heh, planin ta be Sherlock Holmes by any chance?" He slurred.

The teen huffed and the heavy atmosphere vanished. He extended his hand again and this time Tony took it.

Tony laughed, "oh c'mon, it was funny okay."

The other rolled his eyes.

"Oh and I'm Stephen by the way,"

Tony grinned, "and you can call me Tony."

They walked on the empty road together. Tony leaning on Stephen as a support. Still smiling as they walked off.

Snow falls around them. A quiet night follows them and a new possibility opens for the two young men.

~ THE END ~

This is my first time writing something like this and I honestly feel a bit disappointed at how it turned out.

I know it could've been much better then this and how it should've been a bit more centered at the theme

[jupiterstupiter]

Okay I'm impatient and no one sent the ask yet so fuck it I'm gonna talk about the time an scp fucked up my brain and made me so traumatized that to this day I still fear big highways, big traffic in general, and tunnels so this is your only warning before I talk about that scp in particular, but because I don't think I can do the scp justice with my words I don't think this post will traumatize you but warning anyway just in case okay? okay.

So basically one day I was just chilling and suddenly a notification pops up for that one scp Chanel I forgor how to spell the name of, and I was thinking to myself something like; "well it's been a long time since I've read an scp or listened to someone read an scp to me, wouldn't hurt to try listening to one again, after all when I think of scps I think of spooky rather than scary things at least when it comes to the more popular ones I know and even some of the less popular ones I've read up on weren't that scary, just a fun spooky thing to read right?" Haha. WRONG.WRONG.WRONG.WRONG.WRONG.WR- also I forgot the scp number so I am so sorry for anyone trying to find it 😭

and I won't go into too much detail but basically this guy goes into a tunnel on his way back home and then suddenly through the other end there's immediately very thick traffic at the other end of the tunnel and there's just smog and car fumes everywhere he can't even go outside for too long without going into a coughing fit, anyway he's stuck in traffic and the cars barely move at all, he gets a plan and makes everyone come out of their cars so they can all just talk to each other instead of angerly honking at each other not allowing anyone to sleep just so they can move a few inches forward. Anyway a truck driver I think hands out water or some sort of drink to everyone, the main guy takes a motorcycle and tries to drive against the traffic going backwards to find a way out, but the tunnel is somehow gone, the traffic goes on forever, he drives for hours and eventually gives up and goes back to his car, he and a few others leave together to just keep moving forward, long story short-ish-ly summed up; eventually traffic gets faster they sit at the side of the road and one girl walks into the traffic the three remaining members drive forward more the girl's sister being in a separate car but the two men forget to keep track of her car and loose her in the smog the main guy no longer trusts the other guy he's driving with and keeps saying he's the one with the gun and eventually takes a different car and leaves the other guy behind, eventually the main guy finds a pile up of cars blocking the road, climbs over it gets in a car on the other side and drives forward more, eventually there's another path in the road, it just goes up above the smog and everything, he drives up there but eventually the road gets so thin that he can't open his car door, but he can't go back. There's another car behind him. Pushing him forward. There's cars in front of him too, he's in traffic again, and the road leads to a tunnel full of so much smog that it looks dark in there, he sends a final message, probably from inside the tunnel, but nothing he could have been saying could be heard through the sounds of screaming.

Anyway after I listened to that I had a fucking hard time sleeping, and it still effects me to this day as just a few days ago I had to go through a tunnel and I had to focus on the green trees on the other side in order to keep myself calm, I HATE that scp, like yeah good writing made me traumatized it was so scary but like, unexpected because like most of the scps I read up until that point where more spooky than scary and spooky horror I like more than scary horror, I like being spooked not made to be afraid to ever go on the road again jfc

[family-video]

Introduction

Hello, not sure if anyone would ever read this but I'll say it anyway. I'm tired of living like this. With AI, constant modernization, instant gratification, all of it. I know I'll sound old and bitter, but bear with me. Im 23 years old, and over a decade of my life has been owned by the internet.

When I was 11, I was given my first tablet. I used it mostly to play games, but I began obsessively scrolling on iFunny and Tumblr. If I wasn't doing that, then I was watching Youtube. I spent hours on it every day, cycling through the apps. Then when I was 13, I got my first smartphone. It somehow got even worse. I had access to every social media now, and I wanted every hour of my waking day spent scrolling on Instagram, snapchat, twitter, everything and anything I could download. I spent my years like this until I was 18, and COVID hit.

As I was bored in quarantine, I finally realized something-I felt empty. I was no longer surrounded by anyone, I had no one to prove myself to. I turned off my phone and reflected for awhile, and realized how deeply I missed life before social media.

Before I turned 11, I was truly living. And the world felt alive with me. Some might argue that perhaps I only felt that way because I was a child, but I disagree. I know there was a shift there. When I was a kid, before the internet entered my household, I woke up on the weekends- and did nothing. There was no phone to grab and immediately scroll on. I would lay, look at the ceiling, or glance at the ticking Hello Kitty clock mounted on the wall to know if it was too early to get up for the day. Once I was up, I would sit at the table and eat my breakfast. I would read my books, play on my DSi, or play with my littlest pet shop figures. I would go outside to blow bubbles, or sit in front of the TV to watch SpongeBob.

Then if my parents felt like going out to eat, we would. We would go to Texas Roadhouse and not mind the long wait, and then go to my favorite place in the world- Family Video. In there I would spend all my time looking at the video games before renting something I liked and going home.

I don't know if this makes sense, but things felt so alive. The world felt almost sparkly. Everywhere we went was busy, but no one seemed to mind.

However, now, I feel like things are dull. Dead. Again, I do not think this is because I am an adult.

Now I wake up, and I immediately grab my phone. Even when I try my best not to, I subconsciously do it. I read through my unimportant notifications and scroll on TikTok or instagram reels before thinking "What the hell am I doing? I need to get up!" When I do get up, I eat my breakfast while scrolling on twitter, reading unimportant things like celebrity drama.

Then if my boyfriend and I don't feel like going anywhere for the weekend, we sit, and we scroll, and we watch YouTube, and play Roblox. (Yes, I am aware I am too old for that. But playing Bloxy Bingo with my siblings is too much fun.) And if we feel like eating out, we don't even go out. We simply order off DoorDash, sit, and wait. And I plan on digging into this "instant gratification" thing in another post, but I will say that it feels so dull.

Another thing too is that both my boyfriend and I have anxiety- and going out to stores doesn't necessarily feel the same anymore. Ok, here is where I will hear someone out if they say "well it's cuz you were a kid!". Is it just me, or after COVID did everyone forget basic manners? I can't walk into Target without feeling like I'm going to have a heart attack. Everyone is cutting you off abruptly, or walking so quickly behind you they're almost stepping on your shoes. And NO ONE says excuse me. Sure we don't have to, but it would be a little nice if I had a clue that you were trying to get past me in an aisle without bumping my shoulder.

This stressful experience leads me to want to isolate myself further. And as I head to the car, sweat dripping down my forehead from damn near running to leave, I get a notification on my phone from my crime app telling me that there was a super terrible tragedy nearby that instills the feeling in me that I need to stay home.

I need to stay safe inside, continue door dashing, continue scrolling.

But I'm done with it. I have felt the desire to abandon this lifestyle for a couple of years now, but this time im going to do it- and I mean it.

I am going to live like its the 2000s again.

Yes, I am aware that I could never truly go back to the way things were before. And there are in fact modern things I want to keep in my life. Modern interests, etc. But what I mean is I don't only want to quit social media (besides Tumblr so I can write), but I want to go back to some of the technologies that genuinely worked just fine. In an ever changing world, I can appreciate that we make technological advances every single day. But maybe we don't need to.

I know this is long, and again I am unsure if anyone read this. But if they did, sorry for the rambling, and thank you for reading my thoughts.

So without further ado, here I go- back into my imaginary time machine.

[getmemymicroscope]

"Young bengal tiger" Mimoh Chakraborty (you know, in "sensational Fardeen Khan" vibes) comes to us as Rocky, a "much loved dancer" (they did the same thing in Jimmy, and no, it isn't working) whom every lady is gaga over (no, literally; one girl just intentionally runs into his car - which, BTW, he's definitely driving on a walking back - while on roller skates; another randomly shows up in his hotel room - lock your room, bro! - and undresses, before later threatening to kill herself if she doesn't get him; and, of course, the 'love you' jealous friend who is just jealous whenever he even talks to anyone else; his number is somehow public, because fangirl after fangirl calls him at home and expresses their undying love for him).

Before the intro to his 'fame,' we get a pre-intro sequence that ends with the stupid death of a girl (no, seriously - she's being chased by someone and spends her time calling people who don't answer, writing a long-ass note but not naming the person or why she's being chased, and then finally running upstairs in an unfinished building and again calling someone and apparently saying "help me, I'm in danger" without saying who is threatening her; in her defense, the call recipient also doesn't ask who is threatening her). It's played off as suicide - but clearly isn't, because this movie is called 'The Murderer.'

Then we get a bunch of jealousy being the actresses, leading to one tipping over a glass of orange juice on the other's towel and then writing a "your sister committed suicide because of the guy you're chasing after" (to make her hate him, of course). And a couple of meh songs, and a sequence where he shows a girl how to dance for his show and then, after she falls and sprains her ankle and has to sit it out, a dance show where he doesn't even use that step.

Ashutosh Rana, Shakti Kapoor, Vishwajeet Pradhan, and Milind Gunaji all show up as folks we're supposed to suspect as the eponymous 'murderer' - and the movie spends a lot of time making them look guilty, and then not guilty. In fact, the story literally feels like they got to the end and were like "shit, we've ruled everyone out; who's left?" and then had to scramble to come up with some stupid idea why said person would be the murderer. It flops, miserably. ... Also dumb: one of our characters claims to be an "encounters specialist" with like 56 or something encounters to his name, then turns out to actually be a contract killer - and yet misses, badly, twice. Whoever hired him really should've found someone more reliable. Another guy, after being found out, goes on the run and somehow ends up hiding in an abandoned train car that's just sitting in the middle of nowhere.

Two months after the "suicide" (or longer?), the cops finally investigate the place - and find not only perfectly preserved shoe prints, but also tire tracks of the car. Which, once the movie is spoiled, is even dumber - because how the fuck did the killer not see the car pushed into the randomly present body of water (so many stupid conveniences in this movie) when he would've clearly been upstairs.

I get wanting to making everyone look guilty, because it is a 'whodunnit,' but, damn - they spend more time trying to make literally everyone be not guilty. The final reveal is predictable, but also dumb - because, what the fuck was that. And the fact remains that our 'hero' and his friend literally interfered with, and hid, not only the evidence but also HER FUCKING BODY! (How did everyone know it was 'suicide' when there wasn't even a body?)

The main takeaway from this movie - other than the fucking ridiculous amount of nepotism that runs things (and runs them very poorly) - is that some people have enough confidence (and know the people) to create a horrible, shit story and turn it into something (still shit, but it is out there), whilst others sit on their ideas because they can't make it perfect. Guess it is time to lose that inhibition and just use the false confidence and put stuff out there, no matter how bad it is.

Because chances are you'll find a lot more stuff even worse than that.