#go figure 🙃 always at the worst times

[arthyritis]

So it was my dad’s birthday the other day and he called me because. I’m his only kid and I forgot to call or text him on his fucking birthday. And anyway he wants me to see my grandparents on his side again, one of which whom I do not like (at all), and I got to thinking how much I could do to change myself even more before this happens.

They already haven’t seen me in person since I cut my hair 5 years ago so idk how they feel about that and I’m not sure how aware they are of anything else going on in my life. But wouldn’t it be funny if I showed up with the fire truck red hair I want and a couple new piercings? Man I really wouldn’t be their “good girl granddaughter” anymore.

Keep in mind these are the same grandparents who always compared me to my apparent “bad girl” cousin/counterpart just because we had a similar hobby in art lmao I never had my own life in their eyes (also that cousin and I got along like. well, nothing. We didn’t get along lmao)

[toxicanonymity]

My dearest toxic, I would simply do anything for a NW blurb. On top of the election I'm having one of the worst weeks I've had in awhile tbh. I saw you were doing blurbs/requests and figured I would throw my hat into the ring 🙃 as always, you're the best and deserve all the love and accolades 🖤

tired

JOEL x READER | 1k | NIGHT WALKS AU

NOTES: I’m so sorry for your week, bestie. Ty for your kind words. I hope he can help some of y'all a little bit. Love you 🖤 Y'all don't have to know Night Walks, but if you care about the timeline: After Menace, before Late Night Dip.

WARNINGS: 18+ blog. Unspecified source of angst, crying, comfort, soft but it also gets a little horny.

When you got home, your throat was sore from trying not to cry. You put on your PJs, went outside, and unscrewed the floodlight to be in the dark. Seated on a cheap plastic chair, you looked at the joint and lighter in your hand and didn’t even have the energy. You set them down, bent forward, and buried your face in your hands. Warm tears coated your fingers. Your throat untied itself, your chest opened up, and, physically at least, you felt some relief.

Then a light turned on in an upstairs window. Worried that you were louder than you realized, you got up to take a walk so you wouldn’t have to talk about it.

The thing was, you didn’t really have the energy to walk either. You shuffled along, until you got to the pool. It was as good a place as any to stop. The frogs and crickets made it a comfortable silence. You stood outside the fence with your forearms resting on top of it, doubled over.

By the time a twig snapped behind you, you must have been ugly crying.

Your skin prickled until his smooth, deep voice sliced through the tension. “Wanna talk about it?”

When you didn’t answer, you heard and felt him come closer. Joel was like a furnace, and the heat reached you without contact. When you didn’t answer him, he joined you against the fence, both of you looking toward the pool. His hand was resting a few inches away from your elbow.

“Hmm?” He prodded.

You shook your head, sniffled, and dabbed your eyes. “You wouldn’t get it,” you told him.

“Maybe not,” he conceded. “But I still got ears.”

“I’m okay,” you lied.

He answered, “Don’t have to be,” then laid his big, warm hand on your back and it brought a crescendo of emotion. Grief, gratefulness for him, and guilt for selling him short. He was more than a sleaze, he just didn’t tend to show it.

He rubbed your back as you took ragged breaths and tried to stop, then he got closer.

“It’s not just–it’s everything,” you sniffled. “It’s a lot.”

He kept rubbing slow circles on your back for a minute. Then, with a lighter tone, he offered,

“Who do I gotta fight?”

“You don’t seem like the fighting type,” you replied, then finally looked at him.

“I can be,” he cocked an eyebrow, and faced you with one hand still on your back. Your eyes settled on his strong pecs and biceps stretching his tee. And yeah, he could’ve been a fighter for all you knew. He could for sure fuck someone up. The small tattoos you saw in the shower crossed your mind. Then your thoughts drifted to the rest of him.

“I’ll be anything ya want, pumpkin,” he murmured as he got behind you and moved his hand to your hip. He thumbed the waistband of your bottoms and chuckled. You were dressed alike.

He nosed your hair and inhaled deeply as he wrapped his arms around you. You kept your arms resting on the pool fence, but your body relaxed into his embrace. He held you, with his feet bracketing yours. For the first time all week, you felt safe on some level. And not so alone.

It was the first time he’d hugged you like this. Holding you without a hard-on poking you, and–yeah, nope–there it was.

Not raging, but it twitched and made itself known.

He dipped his head and murmured into your neck, “Let’s go have a beer, watch a movie or somethin’," and his hips pushed forward, making you throb. But at the same time, you tensed at an assumption that he had expectations all along.

“Yeah, I know,” he acknowledged, without backing away. “Too damn hot, pumpkin. I just wanna hold ya, now I got two things in the way.”

“Two things?”

“That fine ass and this cock.”

You had been enjoying the softer side of him, but the harder side sure did make you tingle.

“I just wanna rest,” you answered.

“We'll just rest, then,” he replied. “We can just sleep if ya want. Can’t promise I'll behave in the *mornin’*, but…”

“Feels good out here,” you said.

“Alright pumpkin,” he agreed. “We’ll stay here a while.” Then he asked with light-hearted skepticism, “Feel good against this fence?”

His arms relaxed around you, then fell away.

You felt cold as he stepped aside, but he took your hand and gently pulled you to the pool gate. He reached his free hand over and unlocked it. The metal creaked as he pushed it open.

“C’mon,” he led you in, all the way to the edge of the pool. He dropped your hand to roll up his pj pants, then while he was down there, he rolled yours up, too. You both slipped of your sandals. “Sometimes I just look at the water….all lit up. Speakin’ of,” he reached in his pocket and showed you a joint.

“Not now,” you answered, and he tucked it behind his ear as he sat down on the edge.

You sat down an inch or two away from him, and he scooted over to close the gap. He placed his hand on the back of your head and you leaned into him. He put his arm around you. “Ya know pumpkin… it’s gonna be okay.” Your throat tightened again. He continued, ”There’s been times I thought it wouldn’t. But it always got better.”

You both watched the light patterns dance in the water, and he added, “Might’a taken time, but it did.”

“I dunno,” you sniffled.

He rubbed your arm and said, “Well, you’re not alone, anyway.”

And you couldn't help but laugh, “yeah I've noticed.”

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Thank you for reading 💙🫂

[guilty-pleasures21]

Something like coming home

I'm, like, 'superposting' now, then I'm just gonna ghost you guys for 2 weeks 🙃.

Part 1 - the turning point

Part 2 - keeping secrets

Part 3 - exposed!

Part 4 - dating

Warnings: none.

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“Right.” Bruce clapped his hands together. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get to the assignments.” She shouldn’t look at him. She didn’t normally take special notice of his arrival. Did she? Oh no. Would it be weird if she didn’t look at him? Would everyone find it suspicious if she didn’t take the time to acknowledge his presence? Maybe she should just give him a nod. One of those chill ones exchanged between bros.

She looked up, resolute in her decision. But then her gaze met his, already fixed on her, a devilish grin on his face. She breathed in and out, slow, controlled. She could hear Bruce talking in the background, going through the schedule for the night before he began designating everyone their missions. But he’d pair her with Jason. He always paired her with Jason. And, of course she’d never minded before, him being her best friend in the whole world, but … her eyes flickered to him again and her stomach flipped at the look on his face. They would definitely not get any work done tonight.

She dragged her attention to the rest of the room, carefully considering who would be her best option as a partner tonight. Stephanie? No, she’d know something was off straight away. She was the one who was always trying to matchmake them, after all. Oh god. She’d be so happy to know she’d been right the whole time. X moved on to her next choice. Tim? He was oblivious enough about social situations, so he probably wouldn’t be suspicious at first … but he was the smartest of them all and he’d be sure to figure it out soon enough. And besides, he was also the absolute worst at keeping secrets. No. He was definitely out. That left her with … 

     “I call Damian and Duke!” She swivelled around and pointed to them, as if making sure everyone understood who she was talking about. It was perfect. Damian was, like, ten years old. There was no way he would care about her love life. And Duke was too innocent; too naive. He’d be much too focused on trying to do a good job than worrying about her behaviour being a little off. A silence fell over the room as everyone exchanged confused glances with one another. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so eager in her declaration. She clenched her jaw, trying to stifle the suspicious smile that she knew was threatening to overtake her features. Darn her inability to keep secrets from the ones she cared about. Damian crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, his gaze bouncing between her and Jason.

     “Did you and Todd get into a fight?” Oh god. He was right behind her now. She could feel his warm breath trailing down her neck, his familiar scent washing over her senses, and it took everything in her to stop the shiver from running down her spine. She bit down on her tongue, redirecting her senses to the bitter pain instead. 

     “Yeah,” Jason agreed, the hint of mischief in his voice just enough for only her to notice. “Did I do something to make you mad last night?” Shit. She really was going to kill him one of these days.

She clenched her jaw and prayed to all the gods in the universe that no one else would pick up on the teasing note in his voice. On the low, husky timbre that whispered reminders to her of all the things he’d done last night. Of all the things they’d done last night. She dug her fingernails into her palms. 

     “Last night?” Tim asked quickly, his attention shifting between the two of them. “What happened last night?” Jason folded his arms across his chest and turned to look at Tim, a devious smile tugging on the corner of his lips. Oh, this was going to be so much fun.

He returned his gaze to X, taking far too much pleasure in her nervous fidgeting. She was so close to him that if he just lifted his hand, he’d be able to slide it around her waist and drag her into his chest, pulling her close so he could press a kiss to her cheek. But he worried that she might spontaneously combust if he tried to do that right now. No. It was much more enjoyable to watch the blush claw itself up her face as he discreetly ran his fingers along her lower back.

     “Um,” she hesitated, trying to take her attention off the touch of his fingers against her and onto inventing a plausible lie. “Jason got stung by Poison Ivy!" Well, the best lies were the ones closest to the truth, weren’t they? She could still stick to her story. All she had to do was make sure to leave out the more … graphic details. She continued.

     “He came over to ask me to help patch him up.” So that was the story she was going for. He wasn’t surprised, considering her chronic inability to lie. But it was impressive: the loopholes she always managed to find to skirt around that particular problem. She nudged her elbow into his abdomen, warning him to not make things any worse. But he was tempted. So very tempted thinking about the pink that would colour her cheeks, the embarrassed smile that would pull on her lips. But then:

     “You fought Poison Ivy?” Bruce asked, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Jason pulled his gaze away from X and turned to Bruce. Hold on a minute. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to be teasing X, building up her frustration against him so she’d get mad at him later, her thick brows knitting together in anger, her round eyes glaring at him enticingly, her nose scrunching up adorably. He was not supposed to be getting the ‘the reason we share our location is so we can help each out, Jason’ lecture from Bruce for the millionth time. 

     “I did!” he argued quickly, trying to regain control of the situation. “I told X!” He looked to her, waiting for her to back him up. But she just peeked up at him with her large brown eyes, her features schooled into the most fake expression of innocence he’d ever seen on her. 

     “You just told me that Ivy was causing trouble at the botanical gardens,” she replied, “and the next thing I knew, you showed up at my house all drugged up.” It was the wrong thing to say.

     “You got drugged up?!” Stephanie asked, panic in her voice. “What happened? How bad was it?” Perfect. Now everyone was studying him with worried glances, curious to know about all the events that had transpired last night. X might have had the upper hand earlier, but now two could play at this game. Jason folded his arms across his chest and gave her a knowing smirk.

     “Do you want to tell them what happened or should I?” Her eyes widened with fear. Oh no. Oh god, no. There was no way in hell anyone in this room was ever going to find out about what had happened last night. Not if she had anything to say about it!

     “It was fine!” she blurted out quickly, waving off their concerns a little too enthusiastically. “He slept it off. He’s fine. So, anyway, the missions?” She tried to redirect their attention back to the more important matter at hand, desperate to change the subject without drawing any more suspicion, but it was a futile effort. 

     “We’d better check to make sure your system’s completely clean.” Bruce decided, putting aside the assignments for now. “Do you have any idea what drug it was?” Jason didn’t reply. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on X and raised an eyebrow at her in invitation to respond to the question for him. 

     “Bruce, seriously, it’s fine,” X reassured him, injecting as much firmness into her voice as possible. “Let’s just continue with the assignments. Damian, Duke and I can take downtown?” Jason folded his arms across his chest and fixed X with a challenging glare. 

     “So you’re really not going to partner with me tonight,” he said slowly, giving her the chance to reconsider. X clenched her fists and reflected his expression back at him, refusing to back down. 

     “It’s for team cohesiveness, Jason,” she insisted. Stephanie glanced between the two of them, noticing the ever-growing tension. Then she shook her head and stepped in between the both of them. 

     “No. I am not getting in between whatever this is,” she declared resolutely. “Cass, you can partner with Jace. I’ll take Tim and X can take the boys. Let’s go, Tim.” She grabbed his hand and began dragging him away, not giving anyone the chance to argue before she’d disappeared from the Batcave. Bruce turned to the rest of them with confused and tired eyes. X shrugged and began heading to the exit herself, gesturing for Duke and Damian to catch up to her. 

     “Let’s go, guys,” she suggested, following Stephanie’s lead. “We can start with the bank.”

Cass turned to Jason once they were alone, oblivious to whatever was going on between him and X. “You want to take the docks?”

Jason sighed at the suggestion. 

     “Fine,” he relented begrudgingly. “We’ll take the docks.” 

     The rest of the night had passed by in an uneventful blur, the entire city seeming to have been asleep - for once. So it wasn’t long before everyone had returned to the Batcave, all of them giving their designated areas the all-clear for the night. Thankfully, Duke and Damian had had no clue of what she and Jason had been up to last night - as she’d expected - but the relief could only last so long, and she’d felt her stomach roil with nerves when she’d seen him already waiting in the Batcave for her. 

     “Um, hello?” X asked, running forward and waving her hand in front of his face. “Jason? Did you, maybe, forget something?” Like her? Sure, she’d slept over at his place before - in the guest room, might she clarify - but that was only when they ran late and she didn’t want him driving her throughout the city at two in the morning. But it wasn’t even midnight yet and besides, he’d agreed to drop her off at her place. In front of everyone who knew where both of them lived and exactly how to find them if they wanted to. Jason stopped and fixed his gaze on her, pursing his lips in thought. Then he raised a hand to his chin and narrowed his eyes, putting on a show of contemplating the question. 

     “Finally,” Jason had grumbled as he’d made his way over to her, frustrated from having spent the past few hours thinking about all the things he’d like to do to her. “Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”

No one had batted an eye as he’d gestured for her to follow after him: he always dropped her off after patrol, the two of them being the only ones who didn’t live at the mansion and public transport not running this late. But then he’d driven straight home - his home - taking each turn a little too sharply so she had to cling to him that much tighter. Jason switched off the ignition once they’d reached the parking lot and removed his helmet, then waited silently. When X didn’t move, he turned back in his seat and gestured for her to get off, puzzled as to the delay. She huffed in annoyance, but took her hands off his waist and swung her leg over the side, waiting for an explanation. Jason got off the bike, locked it up and, without a word, began walking away, not even checking behind him to see if she’d followed. 

     “I don’t think so,” he replied slowly, suffusing his tone with just a hint of hesitation. Then he shrugged and dropped his arms before continuing to make his way towards the lift. X scoffed in indignation, watching him stride off without a care in the world. God, he could be so infuriating sometimes! She ran out in front of him, stopping him in his path once again. 

     “You were supposed to drop me off? At my own place?” she reminded him, folding her arms across her chest. She knew exactly what game he was trying to play; she could see it in the twinkle in his eyes and the twitch of his lips as he looked down at her. Did he think she wouldn’t be able to see right through him? Her best friend? The one she’d taken the time to learn everything about so very carefully? He gave into his smile, letting it take over his features entirely as he looked down at her. 

     “Was I?” he asked, hooking his fingers into her belt loops and pulling her closer to him. “Hmm, I think I’ll keep you tonight.” He slid his arms around her waist and her stomach fluttered in response, a smile tugging on her own lips at the delight in his expression. She pressed her lips together tightly, trying to hide her reaction. But her hands glided up his chest of their own accord, coming around the back of his neck as her body settled perfectly against his. She huffed, trying to maintain her facade of annoyance at him. 

     “I hate you,” she grinned, her efforts at staying mad at him futile. He lowered his mouth to her neck, pressing his lips to the smooth skin below her ear. 

     “Mmm,” he groaned softly, brushing his lips down the length of her neck. “Great. I’ve heard that hate sex is incredible. I can’t wait to try it with you.” 

     She gasped at his naughty words, still not quite believing that she’d had sex with him - that he wanted to have sex with her again! Her best friend! She dug her fingers into the muscles of his broad shoulders, a shiver running down her spine at the feeling of him chuckling against her. He brushed his nose up her neck and nipped at her ear before straightening to rest his lips on her forehead. 

     “Let’s go, princess,” he mumbled against her before turning her around and steering her to the lift.

He pushed her against the wall once the doors had closed, placing one hand on the surface behind her so he could lean over her and start kissing her. She clutched onto his jacket as he moved his mouth against hers, then let out a squeak when he arched her back to slide his tongue even deeper into her mouth. He groaned at the taste of her, biting on her bottom lip and tugging on it with his teeth. Then he turned her around to start backing her out of the lift and towards his apartment. He kept his lips on hers as he guided her to the entrance, his hand leaving her waist only to unlock the door before he curled it back around her again. She reached up to remove his jacket, her warm hands sliding along his shoulders to take it off, and he shrugged it off before picking her up and sitting her down on his kitchen island. He wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled her body flush against his, his tongue continuing to brush against hers as he reached up to undo her zip.

     “Jason,” she said, moving her hands to his chest to try to push him away. “Jason, wait!” He stopped, lowering his head to her shoulder and sighing as he wrapped his arms around her waist. 

     “What?” he huffed, impatient to get her clothes off. She was just so beautiful, he couldn’t wait to feel her pretty little body all pressed up against his again; her smooth skin and her soft curves and her sweet, sweet taste. F*ck, he was getting hard just thinking about her. 

     She pushed his hands aside and hopped off the island, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them. He sighed and fixed her with an expectant look and her stomach fizzed at the sight. How could he like her so much? With his pretty eyes and his sexy smirk and his frickin’ hot body? She was still finding it a little difficult to wrap her head around it, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to tease him. 

     “I just want to take a shower." She shrugged and began inching her way closer to his bedroom. Jason followed after her, gesturing for her to lead the way. 

     “Great. I'll join you.” He was so nonchalant, the way he said it, and she felt another swarm of butterflies flutter through her insides. How could he be so casual about it? About them having sex?! Like it was just something they'd always done? She stopped walking, causing him to pause in his tracks as well, then she dashed to his bedroom to grab her spare clothes from his closet. 

     “Wha- X!?” He chased after her, trapping her against the cupboard when she'd closed the doors, his brows furrowed in a frown. “What are you doing?” 

     “I'm just going to go shower,” she repeated, her eyes wide with faux innocence as she looked up at him. She pressed her lips together tightly as she clutched her clothes to her chest, trying to stop them from curving into a wicked smile. Then she flicked her tongue out to lick them before biting down on her bottom lip. It was a habit she had, one that always had him freezing up when he saw it, his brain suddenly overrun with thoughts about what it would feel like to run his tongue all over her lush lips. Normally, he'd shake it off, chalking it up to him being too exhausted or some other bullshit excuse. But this time, this time he could actually reach out and cup her chin in his hand, tilt her head up so he could part her lips with his and slide his tongue into her mouth.

He kissed her hungrily, his tongue tangling with hers as he trailed his fingers down her front. He tugged her clothes away from her and tossed them onto the bed behind him, leaving her hands free to slide up his chest and around his neck. He moaned at the feeling of her slender fingers brushing against his body and wrapped his arms around her, bending her backwards so he could kiss her even deeper. She whimpered as he pulled on her lower lip with his teeth and he chuckled before lifting her up and tossing her onto his bed. 

     “F*ck. I've been thinking about you all night, sweetheart,” he admitted, undoing his belt and throwing it aside. He crawled on top of her and slid a hand up her back as he bent over to settle his lips back on hers, his fingers trying to find her zip again. 

     “F*cking teasing me like that,” he continued, moving his lips to her neck as he pulled her zip down. “Taking a mission with Damian and Duke instead of me. Mmm, don't tease me like that, baby.” She giggled as he nipped at her neck and curled his fingers around her waist, her senses overwhelmed by the familiar musky scent of him. 

     “But … But I knew you wouldn't … concentrate, Jay …” she tried to argue in between gasps, “if you just … If we had …” Her back arched off the mattress as her hips searched for his, seeking relief in the form of his body pressing tightly against hers. She ran her hands up the hard muscles in his back, sighing at the defined curves and ridges of them, then fumbled with his zip, trying to undo it as well. He sat up once she'd gotten it all the way down, pulling the sleeves off and then sitting back to take his pants off. And that was when she took the opportunity to snatch her clothes back and roll off the bed, dashing over to the bathroom before he could catch up with her.

     “Wha- X!” He jumped off the bed and leapt across the room, catching the door before she could close it on him. He frowned at her, his expression thunderous, and pushed the door open, closing it behind him before he started backing her against the wall. “Why do you keep trying to run away from me?” 

     He placed his hands on the wall behind her, stepping close enough to her to pin her against the hard surface with his body. She turned her head to the side and clenched her fists, trying to resist from running her hands all over his muscular body. God, he felt good, the hard planes of his chest pressing into her. Not to mention the other hard part of him she could feel pressing into her, making sure she knew exactly what he wanted to do to her right then. She swallowed hard.

     “What?” she asked him, doing her best to feign indignation. “How could you accuse me of such a … such a hateful thing?” He rolled his eyes at her standard dialogue, but couldn't stop the snort of amusement that escaped his throat upon hearing it. 

     “You're such an idiot,” he said, turning her face up to his. She gasped, her eyes lighting up with mischief, the corners of her lips twitching with a wicked smile. 

     “And I'm the hateful one?” He took a step back, pulling her closer to him so he could start taking her suit off as well. 

     “The most hateful of all the haters,” he affirmed, backing her into the shower to ravish her for the rest of the night.

[lossie92]

In the end I decided to share a comfort scene from a different WIP than originally planned, so it ended up being Tobirama's POV after all. The story follows the trope "help from the enemy" and includes a neurodivergent Tobirama 🙃

Hope you enjoy!

-

Warning: description of injury, panic attack

-

It was official – Tobrama was screwed. Figuratively speaking, of course. 

He looked down at his knee which was bent and twisted at an odd angle, shaking hands hovering uselessly over the rapidly swelling joint, and then took a look around him, a curse falling from his lips.

Yes. Definitely screwed.

It served him right for being careless with the Hiraishin. The jutsu was still in the experimental stages of development. Although it was stable enough to use at short distance and he had been pushing its limits for the last few months with very promising results, he had no chance to conduct further testing yet. At some point he had wanted to place the seals or just use his special kunai to check how well the technique would hold up if he attempted long-distance travel through the jutsu, but it was supposed to be conducted in a safe environment when his chakra stores were full. He certainly never planned on testing this out while he was playing a game of hide and seek with his nephew. 

The fact he was currently recovering from an injury and chakra exhaustion, and was supposed to be in bed instead of running around the compound like a madman with a giggly five year old hot on his footsteps was neither here nor there, though Tobirama strongly suspected he was going to get an earful from Hashirama, Mito, Touka, and his medic when he managed to get back home. He was supposed to follow the medical advice and he knew that. It was just hard to do when his body felt as if it was vibrating with energy.

Following orders wasn’t really an issue here, he knew. In all fairness, he had always had a difficult time sitting still and his family was very much aware of that.

It used to annoy his father a lot. Butsuma would smack at his fidgeting hands or legs, or just cuff him on the head, before instructing him in a voice brooking no argument to “stop with this nonsense at once”. He would always punish Tobirama for any wrongdoing by having him sit in the corner motionless for hours on end or by forcing him to stay in his room for days with nothing to distract him. No books, no toys, no paper, no ink, no visitors, no nothing. It had always been the worst kind of punishment. At first, he used to cry a lot because of it, but as he grew older, Tobirama learnt to cope. He knew he got it relatively easy too. Hashirama always had it worse. 

Thankfully, the restlessness became more manageable when he got his hands on some herbal remedies that were supposed to keep a person calm. Though the tea tasted like wet grass, it did help quite a lot in keeping his mind in check most days. Because, at the end of the day, it all had to do with his head. His messed up, weird brain that made him act in ways that always irritated people. 

He couldn’t help it though. It was just the way he was. He just couldn’t stop thinking. Some days it felt as if his mind was racing, making it impossible to focus on anything, while others he would be lost to an idea, so consumed by it he forgot to eat and sleep. There were days when he wanted to do things, but couldn’t decide what he wanted to work on and in the end did nothing, which in turn made him feel like he was wasting time. He got distracted and irritated easily, forgot things that were important all the damn time, became obsessive and nit picked at things to the point where he often had to just start over or abandon the project before it drove him crazy. 

It was all in his head and he couldn’t control it, and now it landed him somewhere in the forest away from home next to a kunai he must have used and forgotten about, because he was stupid and his brain was not right. On top of that, he was injured to the point where he couldn’t stand, much less walk, he didn’t have enough chakra to attempt another Hiraishin, and it was late enough in the afternoon that it would soon be getting dark. He was basically stranded in a place he didn’t recognize, all alone and with no means of protecting himself.

His eyes itched as he tried to stop himself from crying in frustration. Now was not the time for tears.

He bit off a groan as he shifted his weight. The only reason why he had injured his leg was because the area had been already tender before and he had twisted it upon landing on the uneven forest floor. The pain was horrendous, probably one of the worst he had ever experienced in his life. It was obvious that he had to set it and have it healed, but the mere thought of touching his knee was already too much. Besides, it wasn’t like he knew anything about setting dislocated joints or iryojutsu. In all likelihood, he would only make things worse.

Swallowing thickly, he leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes, feeling like a pathetic hopeless child as the tears finally escaped, trailing silently down his face.

It was hard to say how long he just sat there, crying and in pain, before he heard something.

Eyes snapping open, he looked around, his body tensing. He would be unable to fight in his current state, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t at least try or that his instinct to protect himself was any less present.

Another faint rustle, a swish of misplaced air, and then there was someone standing in front of him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Tobirama couldn’t help but laugh, the sound of it hysterical, as he looked up to see the bewildered face of Uchiha Madara. 

He likely appeared rather  unhinged, to say the least, considering the fact he was still crying on top of laughing, but that didn't really matter much, did it? Not when he was pretty sure he was about to die.

“Senju?” Madara took a step closer, the expression on his face shifting into something unreadable. “Are you… Is everything alright?”

This only made Tobirama laugh harder, but before long the laughter turned into sobbing and he could do nothing about it. Although he tried hard to calm down, he couldn’t. He was tired, he was in pain, he was going to die. It was all too much, all of a sudden.

And then he just couldn’t breathe. 

Couldn’t catch a full lungful of air. Couldn’t move. 

His vision blurred and all he could think about was how much of a failure he was. If he hadn’t gotten distracted, if he was able to focus better, if he wasn’t useless and not right, and if things were just different. 

If he could do something the way it should be done for once instead of always messing everything up, and if he—

A pair of warm hands was placed on his cheeks. A wash of chakra, warm as the hands that held his face ever so gently, settled around him, pulling him in and embracing him. His breath hitched as he reached out blindly and fisted his hands in the fabric covering strong forearms, desperate to hold onto something, to feel something other than panic and pain, and fear.

“Deep breaths, Senju.” Madara’s voice was calm and deep as he murmured the words. “In and out. In and out. You’re fine. I’m not… I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. Now breathe with me, alright? In and out, in and out, in and out…”

It took forever before Tobirama fell into the rhythm of breathing in sync with Madara and even longer before he was able to stop crying, all but choking on the sobs that made him shake all over. His face was red by the end of it, both because of the tears and because of embarrassment. To shatter in this manner in front of his enemy, to break down and clutch like a child to a man who probably hated him was unbecoming to say the least.

Pathetic. Truly pathetic. That’s what he was, wasn’t he?

Gods, if father could see him now, he would have never heard the end of it. 

Madara smoothed his thumbs over Tobirama’s cheeks, wiping away some of the tears in the process. The gesture was enough to distract Tobirama.

“Better?” Madara asked him.

“Y-yes,” Tobirama responded on a hiccup as he forced himself to release Madara’s sleeves. “I’m, I'm f-fine.”

It didn’t seem as if Madara believed him fully, but he still moved away, taking his hands off of Tobirama’s face.

“Good. Can you tell me what you are doing here now?” The careful way in which the Uchiha asked this question grated on Tobirama’s nerves. It was clear that Madara pitied him and the idea of it was infuriating.

“It’s n-none of your b-business, is it?” He said in a shaky voice that was laced heavily with all the anger and irritation he was currently feeling. 

“Senju—”

“No,” Tobirama barked. “What do you want?”

Madara sighed. “Believe it or not, I only mean to help you.”

“I don’t need your, your help!” His voice carried as he yelled. “The sh-show is over, Uchiha! And if if you’re a man of your word, th-then you will just leave me be! I don’t—”

“Oh really?” Madara cut in, one of his eyebrows rising before he glanced meaningfully at Tobirama’s mangled leg and then back up. “That’s what you call fine?”

Tobirama pressed his lips into a thin line and turned his head away, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that Madara had a point. It was an utterly stupid move, since Madara could still decide to kill him, but at the same time it was not as if Tobirama could stop him if he tried either way. 

They were silent for a moment before Madara spoke again.

“Humour me, will you?” He said. “Which part of what is going on here is fine, hm? Your dislocated knee, the panic attack, your nonexistent chakra reserves, or the fact you’re clearly stranded with no means of getting back home?”

Tobirama snorted mirthlessly. “Why should I?” He asked. “And what is it to you? What does it matter?”

“It may, it may not.” He saw Madara shrug out of the corner of his eye. “And I can leave you here if you would prefer that. I’m not about to force you to cooperate. If you would much rather die in the middle of the woods, then be my guest. I just think it’s pointless when we could work on setting your knee and getting you somewhere safe.”

“Why though?” Tobirama asked as he looked back up and met Madara’s eyes. “Why would you… Why offer to do that? I’m your enemy, Uchiha. You should want me dead. Helping me, it’s… It makes no sense.”

Instead of answering right away, Madara just hummed noncommittally and went about taking the leather knapsack off his back. Then he removed his cloak and, after hesitating for only a moment, placed it over Tobirama, tucking it around his shoulders. The weather was still relatively cold this early into spring. In the heat of the moment and because of his panic, Tobirama didn’t even realise how cold he was in his yukata until the cloak was placed over him. He shivered before reluctantly pulling the heavy warm fabric closer, the scent of pine and smoke tickling his nose as he breathed in.

Madara watched him do it in silence and then reached into the knapsack, removing a waterskin from inside of it. He unscrewed the cap and took a large sip, swallowing visibly, before he extended the waterskin to Tobirama, clearly asking if he wanted a drink. Tobirama just nodded and took it with hands that still trembled, gulping down at least half of its contents before passing it back to the Uchiha.

“I don’t understand you,” he said then and was surprised when it made Madara laugh.

“You’re not the only one,” the man told him with a smile that looked odd but also strangely pleasant on his handsome face. “If you really want to know why I’m doing this, why would I offer you help instead of killing you… The answer is simple. I don’t want you dead.”

It was Tobirama’s turn to laugh. “Really? That's it? And how am I supposed to believe that?”

“You don’t have to.” Madara shrugged again. “But it is the truth, Senju. Despite everything, I still consider Hashirma a friend. It would be in poor taste if I didn’t at least try to help you, wouldn’t it?”

[outro-jo]

Can you write about how Jongho or Hongjoong of Ateez would react to their s/o being depressed and hopeless about their future? I am in college and really struggling with trying to figure out what I want to do as a career and how to plan accordingly while still in school. Just really anxious and depressed and never see imagines about this stuff lol

hey, darlin’. i just what you to know you’re doing amazing! college is super scary and stressful and trying to join the workforce after can be pretty daunting. i want you to know as someone who graduated with a degree i am absolutely not using now, it’s ok for life to take its course and it feels like you’re out of control but when it feels things are falling apart, sometimes they’re falling into place. i hope these help you feel better 🤍

warnings: mentions of stress and school shit, mentions of severe depression and isolation (please reach out to others if you need help!)

notes: hongjoong’s definitely isn’t from personal experience or anything 🙃

————————————

hongjoong- it was official, you went to the worst school in history. for weeks you had heard whisperings from other students about how the school was going under and they were cutting back on departments, you didn’t know which ones but honestly you just wrote the whole thing off as idle gossip. that was, until one of your closest friends heard it from a professor. then, d-day. it was madness. you kept hearing about some of your most favorite professors being laid off and that’s when the worst happened. you were asked to meet with your academic advisor and told that your entire department would be removed and worked into another department. after the best semester of your life, you finally feeling you had found your purpose and calling, it was all crumbling down around you. hongjoong was in the studio super late when he got the tearful phone call. it worked out that hongjoong didn’t have any other promotions and was at a place with the album where he could pass it off to maddox and leedz to finish. he got on the first plane he could and soon enough you were crying in his arms. “joong, i don’t know what to do. i was just starting to feel like this was what i was meant to do… now it’s all over.” you sobbed. hongjoong held you tight against his chest, pressing kisses to the top of your head. he let out a sigh before speaking, “i’m so sorry, baby.” he just let you cry, releasing all the pain and confusion into his strong embrace. when you finally felt like it was out of your system, he lifted your chin to look at him. “i know it’s all confusing right now and that it seems like everything is over, but i wanna tell you that it’s not. you have so many options. there are times in life when you feel like you’re on the right path and things are really good then something happens. that doesn’t mean you weren’t on the right path or maybe you were just on the wrong way of getting there. this school may not be for you anymore and maybe you can try seoul!” he lightened his tone, making you laugh through the tears. “but things in life aren’t meant to stay the same. things happen and change. it’s scary but i know you’re brave enough to get through all of it and figure out what’s best for you. but when you find your purpose and it feels right, keep chasing that feeling, wherever it takes you.” hongjoong finished with a sympathetic smile and kiss to both of your cheeks. he always knew what to say to make you feel better. even though things seemed bleak right now, you knew that you could always manage them… especially with hongjoong cheering you on.

jongho- starting senior year was something you looked forward to pretty much since exams of freshman year. you wondered how you could take four more years of this but somehow you managed to make it all the way to the end… almost. the final year of classes was brutal to say the least. all of your hardest classes were, of course, pushed off to the very end and you were being tested in the field you would hopefully be working in some day. it was a lot of pressure. adding to the stress was the impending doom of actually finding a job in the career you’d chosen. you would no longer be under the safety blanket of studying the field but rather on the tightrope of actually managing to work in the real world. it was all too much for you and in the weeks before your final final exams, you shut down. you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep, all you could do was lay in your bed and worry. jongho was used to you not texting as much, especially when exams were coming up, but when his messages were going unread and his calls unanswered, he started to worry. then when your family was calling him asking about you, he knew he had to check on you. when he spoke to hongjoong and the rest of the boys and management about it, they agreed to let him go. the whole plane ride, he was anxious to see what awaited him, preparing for the worst… but nothing could have prepared him for the state you were in. opening the door to your dorm room nearly broke his heart. he found you wrapped in your comforter, eyes hollow and sunken, staring off into the distance. “baby…” he spoke softly to get your attention. “jongho? what are you doing here?” you finally snapped out of your stupor and sat up in your bed, still wrapped in your blanket. he didn’t answer your question, it wasn’t important to him, and if you were honest, you knew the answer. jongho quietly kicked off his shoes and crawled into the bed with you, pulling you tightly into his arms, rocking you back and forth as you finally broke down. he didn’t say a word as you sobbed, letting all the pressure that had built up finally release. “i’m just so scared, jjong. what if i can’t do it? what if i fail? i can’t do this, i can’t be out in the real world!” you rambled out all your fears, and he just let you. it was so comforting to just say all of this out loud and not feel judged or like your fears were anything but valid. jongho was really good at that. you could say anything and he was completely solid. he was your rock through some of your hardest times and you were so glad he came because you didn’t even realize just how much you needed him. jongho didn’t say anything right away, he pressed soft kisses to your face and head as quiet reassurances. after a few beats of silence he finally spoke up. “i’m so proud of you.” he said softly. “what?” you looked up at him confused, but he was completely sure. “i’m proud of you. you’ve made it through college and you’ve done the very best you could. you worked hard and got both good grades and some not good grades but you made it and gave it your all. the fact that you’re so upset right now just shows how much this all means to you.” he paused to kiss your lips softly. “i know you’ll succeed in whatever you do. whether you get a job in what you’ve been studying these last four years or something completely different. if you graduate and everything changes, that’s ok too. you’re going to do so well in this life and i’m happy to be next to you while you do it.” jongho finished and smiled warmly at you. you buried your face in his chest again as his arms wrapped around you tighter. for the rest of the evening he took care of you which put you in the best place to finish the term out strong.

[brainyrot]

Fanfic Update? 🙃

I think I'm gonna start preparing the fic on ao3

He underestimated those finger guns, sure it didn't hurt but the impact. Oh, the impact.

Managed to destroy his hand, obviously he can always..get it back. It's ink, who cares. But, it's impressive. Surely not impressive and big enough to destroy or even kill him, but it is something that should be taken off right now. He can't just have these people walk around with such a weapon.

whines and curses of pain of a cup, now running away with a slowly, slowly falling apart limp.

He didn't rip it off in time, but you're gonna need super glue to fix that crack for sure. At least he knows it's not functional anymore.

he just needs to get the other one.

"that was NOT bendy!" She screamed, mostly to herself. "It couldn't be! Have you seen that thing?! if- it just couldn't be! And it talked. It talked!" she was frantic, who knew what was going on in her head.

"whoever that was..we need to keep as far as we can of distance from it."

"Have you seen what he has done to your arm Cuphead? It nearly broke it. We gotta look at the wound now." rather have a brother with two arms and a functioning finger gun than a brother with one arm and no finger gun.

"Let's just get somewhere safe and then we can look at it, 'kay mugs?" the cat suggested. But what if it was really bendy? it couldn't be. it was too..it didn't feel like bendy.

The way it talked, it's mannerisms, it's nothing like Bendy's. But at the same time, bendy never acted like himself whenever he had these.. moments.

but how could they help bendy? He was a threat now and approaching was a no go, Cuphead was injured and stuck in an unknown place.

ugh..reminds him of the labyrinth, except that now the main threat was bendy, and not that Sarah kid.

But..was it.. actually him? It's just hard to think it is! maybe it's really some labyrinth situation, just instead of memories it's ink.. mimicking people?

Who knows.

he's thinking of the worst right now.

They don't know where they are going, and the more they go deep in this place, the more ink slowly creeps in until it's nothing but that.

Could it be that the ink is sentient? A parasitic being that slowly consumes everything and everyone? Could explain why those people seemed or..were made of ink. Maybe..maybe bendy is also a victim?

it's possible, a parasitic being, the ink, that takes over your mind. It's a thing between insects, it's possible with this too.

It explains the ink people, the ink that somehow is always here, around, and the aggressiveness.

it makes the person aggressive and submissive to the control of the ink until it consumes them and die.

Maybe it's different with demons? bendy seemed also made of ink but more.. covered. You could see his..eerie smile, part of the bone of his horns and hooves.

could it be that the ink illness is messing with it? Instead of turning into an inky being he's slowly melting? The way the bones, teeth and hooves were showing it seemed like melting.

or..maybe this is all the ink illness. it makes sense, because everyone here at least has some ink on them but it's just stains. Whole for bendy and whoever the rest was, it was like it took over completely.

Maybe only who is ill is affected by this?

"..guys! I think I got it!" the feline stopped.

"Got what? That my hand is gone?" The red cup huffed, sarcastically commenting on his wound.

"No, not yet. Sit down on one of those chairs and we'll fix that. But, I think I figured out something for this place."

"How to get out?" Mugman asked, kind of a stupid question but hey, who doesn't wanna get out.

"No, but,,what if all of this is just the ink illness doing?"

"..what." ridiculous, he thought. Is there a cigarette around?

"Hear me out! the ink seems so alive! Gave you not see it create people from mere puddles?! And the ink people! And bendy! What if these are all ink illness victims that not only have an incurable illness-"

"Yet." Hope, holly may, hope.

"-but now are controlled by this sentient ink making them aggressive like those guys earlier and bendy! We saw him before, he was docile a minute ago and now he's hunting us."

"but it doesn't make any sen-"

"The ink machine!" Mugman thought. "The ink machine was here! what if it's really the ink machine doing? what if it's malfunctioning and that's why instead of curing everyone it's doing..that to them? What if the ink is from the ink machine and whoever is infected is now victim of this weird..mind control in ink Felix says."

"The ink machine is here?"

"it explains a few things..but how do we fix it?"

"I don't know yet but.. let's try and fix that hand of your first."

"I did the best I could but .. it's like if you badly glued something together and it's not holding together at all."

"welp..I guess I'll have to learn how to write with my left hand."

"Don't say that! Holly is gonna fix it!..maybe just, bandaging it tight? Once we're out of here we can find that cream that helps us with the cracks."

"Oh that weird thing? Maybe I can make it."

"Why doesn't the cat gets it out of his silly bag?" cup pointed out.

The feline shrugged. "Honestly I doubt I'll get it out of here, this bag isn't too cooperative."

"Look we'll just bandage it, don't use your hand until we find another way. And..I think we should start finding food and a big enough room to even sit down and relax."

"Yeah, we're just standing around in the open."

"c'mon then, let's go. finish with those bandages."

"I'm doing it,, I'm doing it,, okay, I'm do-"

A hum, a song, a beautiful voice that seemed to belong to an angel.

"we need to hide!"

"Where?!"

"I-i-i don't know- uh-"

A few footsteps, the voice humming was probably wearing heels. It's getting closer.

"...I think I know that vo-" "in here!" a random room, a closet he thinks. There's an axe here, it can be useful.

The voice is getting louder. The humming is getting more addictive as it goes on, he wants to know who is it. He wants to know why does she sounds so familiar.

[msweebyness]

Class of Heroes AU: Worst Experiences w) Bustier

I know I said I might take a break, but my brain refuses to comply! This is based off an old post by @artzychic27, which they were nice enough to let me use the concept for! These are a lot of the kids’ worst experiences with the “amazing” teacher, Caline Bustier. She is Flora in this AU, the ‘kindest and wisest’ of the good fairies. She believes she is always right and lives in her perfect little bubble world, just like in canon. 🙃 She’s a sh*t teacher there, and being a high-ranking magical authority figure has only made her worse here. She’s a huge reason that around 70% of the royalty and aristocrats at this school believe they can do whatever they want to whoever they want without getting punished! She builds up their egos and gives them special treatment, punishing those who don’t go along with their whims. Feel free to leave thoughts and ideas, as always! (Still thinking of options for Lila and Felix) And credit to the aforementioned artzychic27 and @imsparky2002 as always!

Marinette: Outed the secret that she was never supposed to be at the school in front of everyone while berating her for her clumsiness and lack of social grace, humiliating her.

Adrien: Ridiculed to the point of tears in front of the entire class and forced to change when he came to school with a tiara on, his hair braided with flowers and in a violet flowing long shirt that could resemble a dress at first glance, told to stop acting so feminine.

Alya: Also Reduced to tears from a verbal attack in front if everyone when she came into class late and dissheveled because she had to leave work later and there was heavy traffic, and it was POURING RAIN. Despite the fact that she had called beforehand and gotten clearance.

Max: Yelled at and given two weeks of detention for ‘refusing to help’ his fellow students, which was the story she got from said (royal) students, when in reality they had been beating him up for refusing to do their homework, and the evidence of the violence was CLEARLY visible.

Kim: She’s had him suspended for a week on three different occasions, all originally meant to be expulsion, first for stepping in to defend Max in the aforementioned incident, the second was for damaging school property (He pulled a jammed door off its hinges when a fire broke out in the lab so the students could get out). The last was when he punched a prince who, with a few of his buddies, had cornered HIS princess for refusing his invitation to a ball, forcefully kissing and groping her. (Ondine was upset and crying for hours, but nothing was ever done to punish the boys responsible, despite her being a princess. Misogyny, folks, how ‘bout it?)

Alix: Taken out of class by police and accused of numerous counts of theft, got threatened with charges and jail time despite being a minor with diagnosed kleptomania, who RETURNED WHAT SHE TOOK.

Ivan: Insisted that he carry all the class’ luggage for a grade-level trip into the bus as punishment for ‘threatening’ his peers (He was defending some younger students from some older (royal) bullies.), when (as he and Mylene told her) his back pain was on the far more severe side due to his medication pending a refill, and he ended up collapsing outside the school. (No, she didn’t call for help. She also refused to let Denise or Kim help him despite both offering multiple times.)

Mylene: Forced her to sit through a ‘Parent’s Day’ event that included one-on-one time with her stepmother. Yes, THE WOMAN WHO TRIED TO KILL HER MULTIPLE TIMES IN THE PAST. Insisted that Mylene needed to ‘stop being petty’ and that ‘family means love and forgiveness’.

Juleka: SHE HAD A FREAKING MUZZLE PUT ON HER WHEN SHE WAS HAVING A PANIC ATTACK. She claimed it was ‘for the safety of the other students’ as Juleka was ‘behaving aggressively’.

Sabrina: Gaslighted and guilt-tripped her into singing the song from her old puppet show (the one she still has nightmares about when she was a part of) for a school event, and told her to stop being ‘dramatic’ when she had a nervous breakdown in the middle of the performance.

Nathaniel: Magically erased his entire sketchbook as punishment for him repeatedly falling asleep in class, despite it being a side effect of his curse, which she of all people should know.

Marc: Actively tries to keep him from using and improving his magic, always ‘gently’ reminding him of how dangerous ice magic is, just look at what happened to his poor little brother. We wouldn’t want that again, now would we? She’s also had him locked in a room alone as punishment for losing control. (She DOES NOT care about trauma.)

Zoe: Stood up to Chloe and told her to do her own chores in the main hall, taken aside and harshly scolded for not adhering to and ‘being kind’ to her sister.

Ondine: Refused to allow her to leave class when she was literally SUFFOCATING because a spell-gone-haywire (A spell that reversed any magic-induced physical changes. It also affected Sabrinocchio.) by a disgruntled student temporarily restored her gills and SHE COULDN’T BREATHE, stating that it was ‘improper’, because she couldn’t communicate what was wrong and Bustier wouldn’t listen when the class tried frantically to tell her.

Kagami: Refused to let her enroll in any of the battle or heroism courses due to her being a princess, and humiliated her in front of an entire courtyard of people by berating for not conducting herself ‘as a princess should.’

Reshma: Said and did nothing as her grandmother scolded and even STRUCK her for ‘shaming the family with her behavior’ and daring to defend her giftless younger sister from the woman’s verbal attacks.

Jean: Yelled at in front of the entire school for being a ‘spoiled brat’ and a ‘poor excuse for a ruler’ when he was focusing on a show he was putting together and forgot a small royal gathering.

Denise: Has been suspended multiple times for (accidental and inevitable, with their abilities and strength) destruction of school property, but the worst was when Bustier got them expelled for accidentally breaking Adrien’s arm and collarbone, in the process of SAVING him from a falling oak tree during a nature class outing for their grade level. She claimed they were far too destructive, violent, and dangerous to remain in the school. (*Cough*”Bad Guy” Bias*Cough*) (The decision was reversed due to Adrien insisting that they had saved him, proved though a memory display spell on multiple students, and the fact he was able to heal himself almost immediately after.)

Cosette: Publicly and harshly berated for ‘holding up the rest of the class’ when some fans wanted autographs and pictures during a school field trip. It was only a few people and Cosette had tried to make it as quick as possible without being rude.

Ismael: Had a pair of magical shackles placed on him when his power was flaring up rather badly**, completely ignoring the PTSD from previous finders of his lamp that this gave him. He had to wear them for a week.

* She forces Nino, Aurore and Lacey to fold their wings down so they don’t ‘Distract’ other students, despite it being IMMENSELY painful for younger fairies to do this as those joints aren’t developed yet.

*She actively talks down to any students who are not human or fae like herself, acting as if they are intellectually inferior and require extra guidance and redirection.

**Genie magic is incredibly strong, especially when it’s not restrained. Be careful not to say the word ‘wish’ within earshot of Ismael unless you’re a friend, directly speaking to him for that reason. It triggers his magic and if he didn’t hear you correctly, things could get…weird.

Basically…Bustier sucks.

[arcann]

Gotta talk about Cass and how they have changed a few months after I decided to shift from Book Smart to Street Smart. Updated that old post to take out some of the bits that no longer fit.

- Mystical / Street Smart and if I could give them a third trait it would be Keen Eye. Could equal the temper of a Powerful Build, except when it comes to the supernatural. Mystical kicks in and seeing so much horror stuff makes them prioritize survival over curiosity... but it starts to erode as the week goes by.

- Scars over their right eye and cheek from a bar fight in college. Used to be a feisty kid that lost a lot of fights. Didn't learn until they got stabbed in the abdomen. Developed a lot of chronic pain from that. Didn't get any type of authority involved and never told Vivian. Barely saved that semester so she wouldn't notice. Calmed down by a lot after they got out of college but then grief does that to many people.

- I still haven't decided what they majored in but they hide it since they feel a bit of shame that by working ten years as an elementary teacher they're ruining their chances of practicing their profession. Hasn't talked with anyone about their feelings though, so it's a bit them just catastrophizing.

- Lives in the attic of the house of what seems to be a bunch of ex-frat boys. She doesn't ask why they're still together and they don't tell. Planning on leaving but hasn't figured the how yet.

- Smokes but has been trying to leave it although they did smoke with Isaac to build rapport. So not going well.

- Mystical IS a power and a benefit so I took out Cass having headaches. They hadn't paid much attention to that sensation since most of the dangers they have faced (and rushed head first into) are mundane but then I imagine there are supernatural dangers outside of Scarlet Hollow in this universe and they roam around even inside cities. But guess who hasn't found them out since these unknown horrors don't have a direct blood tie to them??? Mystical says you're welcome :-)

- The way I see it the Street Smart suggestions is the first time it comes to their head and while it would aid them greatly it's not always the most prudent thing to do. They don't have the heart to stop Stella from calling the police in Monday night since they could see how much the man meant to Stella and implying they should leave his body to rot could be something incredibly offensive. They're very normal about how that ended up happening anyway 🙃

- The worst media you can think of? They have probably seen it and ran away with some parts of it. Results may vary. Their favorite jojo is Giorno and when they make a little gal they always resemble Casca from Berserk. Another secret they must keep at all costs. They're hanging with Kaneeka and her respectable anime statues now.

- Decided to change their relationship with Wayne as feeling truly impotent around him. They can't stop him from stalking them or threatening their friends or making Tabitha feel scared. They try to run away and it doesn't work. They try to punch him and it's nothing to him. They're trapped.

Some picrews to end it bc why not

[shiningstarr15]

Update

Hi everyone, it’s been awhile. I just thought I’d come on here and offer you a bit of a life update as well as the future of my page going forward.

First of all, I’ve been having unfortunate issues regarding my job and personal health. You see, back in April of this year, I had a work related foot injury in the form of a fracture that resulted in me being on disability. I was supposed to be able to return to work after the bone healed.

Unfortunately, my foot is still not fully healed. The pain is still sufficient enough to affect my mobility and my foot is also partially numb. To say trying to get drs to understand that I’m not comfortable being all cleared has been a NIGHTMARE is an understatement.

I’ve worked with the Dr, the hospital network, my work place benefits coordinator, my job supervisor, disability agent, and now a case worker, trying to get me back on disability until I’m comfortable enough in my ability to do my job. Which I would NOT be so stubborn about if my job wasn’t so extraneous to begin with..

As of today, I received X-rays and a CT scan that all cleared me to go back with no limitations. However, no tests have been done to check for nerve damage or agitation, which I believe is causing the pain and numbness. So as of now, I will be seeking a second opinion, and if worst comes to play.. possibly a new job.

I hope it doesn’t come to that.

I am hoping to start up a small business as an independent artist, and possibly apply for a stay at home position so that I don’t risk potential overstimulation and burnout. Bc right now, I don’t really receive accommodations for my position being so rough. But this will all be in the later future, when I figure out the situation with my payments..

I’m hoping to have a resolution to this soon. Bc on top of this, I’m also struggling to retrieve my ADHD medication 😅 the methylphenidate issue has unfortunately impacted me as I take Ritalin to help with focus and concentration, and I haven’t been able to retrieve it for months 💀

And this is unfortunately just a small sample of some of the health issues I’m facing. But the rest will have to be taken care of by other doctors 🙃

—————————————

Now, you probably noticed that I’ve been far more inactive lately than I have the past year. Well, I can confess that now the reason for that was bc I was trying to keep myself distracted from a very detrimental situation that, and I can’t even believe it myself, is starting to actually resolve. It’s not resolved completely, but it’s moving in a positive direction and I’m very grateful for that. I’m willing to admit when I was wrong, and there were some things with this that I was.

That being said, it was bc of that situation that I dedicated all of my time to only hyperfixating on one special interest. Normally, I focus on more than one at a time, to avoid burning out. As I’ve talked about before, I am both autistic and ADHD, so I tend to have a lot of intense back and forth action when it comes to hyperfixating on special interests. Well, bc of the situation, I found myself only being able to focus on one, bc the rest brought me immense emotional pain.

That obviously being Black Widow and the widow sisters

You probably noticed that I stopped writing as much. At first I was simply focusing my energy on recovering from my injury and figuring out the other health issues. But now, I realize it is much more deep than that as to why I don’t feel like writing

I’m completely burnt out

Please don’t take this as me no longer liking them. That will never be the case. That movie and pairing will always have a special place in my heart and I will never turn them away. When a burn out happens, the special interest simply goes dormant. Like, say, putting it away in storage until it’s ready to be used again. And I can assure you, it will. They all do. Always 🤣

That being said, for the foreseeable future, I will not being writing or making art for them and I will be temporarily closing writing requests.

This does not mean I’m abandoning any projects. I am not. I still have plans for the direction of my stories and I do want to continue to draw them as well. But for now, I’m simply not motivated to do either and need to take a break.

I also do still hope to make the movie reviews, but I held those off simply due to the strikes. In fact, majority of my content is being held off due to the strikes. Even if something is not marvel related, I do not want to draw attention to it at the risk of crossing the picket line (I hope to join the union one day)

I hope you all can understand. I am so sorry if I have seen more absent and less caring. I’ve had a lot on my plate and it’s taken a toll on my mental health. I’m doing the best I can but if ever have any questions or concerns, please feel free to reach out. I know some of my issues may be confusing to some who don’t struggle similarly, but I’m always willing to offer clarity. I don’t ever want anyone to think I’ve stopped caring or am trying to make excuses. Being disabled is.. well.. disabling at times. But I promise I’m not abandoning anything. I’m trying to find motivation for a new hyperfixation but for now I’ve just been fiddling around different stuff every few days or so. I’m just simply so drained. And I’m sure that has to do with so many resolutions not being met yet.

I will still be around lurking and may repost from time to time. But until my motivation and mental health are back on track, I just need a little break.

Thank you for your understanding and patience. And I will see you when I return to my happy hyperfixating self ❤️⭐️

[1d1195]

sam, sam, sammmmm. it’s been a hot minute. im still out of the country, wifi is terrible, i am even more so. HAHA. BUT I MISS GETTING ON HERE AND TALKING WITH YOUUU😭😭😭 but thank goodness because i finally got free time to binge read all the one shots and series you’ve posted (except Honey, it’s the only one left and i’m going to wake up tomorrow and start because i KNOW im going to eat that up) AND ITS BEEN SO MUCH FUN SO THANK YOU SO MUCH.

can i just say how absolutely awesome it is that you run this account and you share all this with us? honestly i don’t even read your summaries anymore because i genuinely know that if you wrote it, ill love it. not even kidding.

SAMANTHA I JUST READ MOST AND YOU WERE SO RIGHT😭😭😭 I WOULDVE DIED IF I HAD TO WAIT FOR THAT😭😭😭 BUT OMGGGG MY HEART LITERALLY HURT SOOOOO BAD READING THAT STORY BUT IT WAS SOOOO GOOD. i was worried cause i remembered all the lauren hate mail but HONESTLY??? I WAS EXPECTING WORSE. I WAS SOOOOO SCARED SHE WAS GOING GET WITH HARRY I WOULDVE THROWN MY PHONE. she was just a jealous bitch, whatever.

the traditional blurb? and then the EXTRA traditional blurb??? BAHSHJEUSHAUAS HOTTTTT. I LOVE THEM🥹

the “heaven is a place on earth” cover is SOOO good, better believe it’s going straight to the clean up playlist. I HAVE A FEW SONGS TO SHARE AS WELL !!! “tenenbaum” by the paper kites - “sweet heat lightning” by gregory alan isakov - “hope” james bay

life is soooo ughhh. there’s something wrong with me, i dunno. please tell me you’re faring better, how’s life ? what’s new ? tell me everything ! love you lots <3333

~🎶

AHHHHHH!!!!! HIIIIIIII!!!!!!! I've missed you so much! Bad wifi is the worst! I figured you were still traveling but it's so good to hear from you!!!! Probs for the best you saved Honey as well, you'll see 😭 I think I got 15 messages for one of the parts. I hope you enjoy 💕

YOU'RE SO SWEET I COULD CRY 😭 I love this blog more than anything tbh. It's so nice to be here and write stuff but it's even nicer that you (and others) enjoy it and let me know that you do 😭 thank God for one direction, am I right?

I hate Lauren (although not as much as some of you 🤭) I briefly toyed with Harry dating but I don't think I could make him date Lauren. Maybe someone else. But Lauren would have been too much I think I'm glad you loved the story overall even if your heart hurt!

Traditional is always a safe bet, I think. I'm glad you loved them too! 💕

Okay listening to Paper Kites but they sing that other song I mentioned to you before so I'm VERY ready to listen to this song 10000 times in a row. (I'm listening to it right now, and I'm loving it thus far). I'm always here for a Gregory Alan Isakov song as well. James Bay for me is about 50-50 but I'll give him a fighting chance (I def heard Let It Go one too many times on the radio back in the day so I'm biased--isn't it weird though? I'M allowed to play the song over and over but the RADIO should NEVER.)

There's nothing wrong with you. Life IS soooo ughh. I'm doing alright. I feel like my energy is off and I'm not sure why (probs $$ related). I feel less stressed than I have in years which is nice, but in a constant state of being busy. Work is good overall! Which is like a HUGE load off my back. Otherwise, just trying to enjoy the little things every day so I don't become filled with existential dread 🙃 I don't have too much new going on. I'm one of those people who shift their closet from spring/summer to fall/winter (and back) so I did that over this past weekend and basically I never need to go shopping ever again (but also I have coupons so what am I supposed to do? Not use FREE MONEY!?) I'm SO obsessed with coffee it's borderline unhealthy but Gilmore Girls says it's fine so it is what it is. I need to start reading again. I've been rereading the same scene of "who did this to you" from what of my books just to feel something and I cannot move on. I mentioned it in an ask to my 💜-anon, but I straight up have two book-boyfriends right now and I'm literally so in love with them it's probs unhealthy as the coffee addiction. I have a wedding to go to this month which I'm not really looking forward to. October is SO busy and I feel like I'm rushing through this message but I am trying my HARDEST to finish a one-shot update for Thursday 😭

Anyway.

TELL ME ALL ABOUT YOU AND YOUR TRIP. Tell me everything as well! What has you thinking life is so ughhh?

MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!! LOVE YOU 💕

xoxo

[star-mum]

Good fucking morning lovelies, guESS WHO WOKE UP TO GREAT NOTIFICATIONS ON HER PHONE ?????

I'm very excited to read this but it's also 6am so excuse me for any comments that are too weird (or just don't make sense at all)

Starting off with a GORGEOUS COVER !!!!!! I loooove fic covers sm (and both of the spence pics chosen are just scrumptious 😋)

"But that's how the math works out" 😔 not math, again 😔

"A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months" that's always so great for us 🫠

"Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women" hooraayy 🙃

"dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas." yeah uhm I don't feel really sAFE RIGHT NOW !!!!

"white carnations" i don't know a lot about flowers but these feel like a gravestone type of flower

HGTVs website: "When given on Mother's Day, they also are said to bring a mother good luck" DO YOU KNOW ABOUT FLOWERS ????? OR DID YOU LOOK THIS UP ??? WHAT !!!! WHAT !!!

okay i figured out why I got death vibes from them, it's cause they look A LOT like the flowers in Promised Neverland (i refuse to give out any more context)

"It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” welcome to the stage Dr Reid !!!

“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” i mean... not be an asshole but some of you bitches are really dumb (ik Plot but Pen would've checked that the moment they asked about preschools !!!!) (well... early seasons Pen) (the further we go the more they seem to just use her as a sentient computer and less of relying on her smarts as a whole) (tHis IS NOT THE TIME FOR THIS !!!)

"Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing" I have nothing if not time for these two and their antics

"typical survey schlock,” love having my data stolen and sold for profit "The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies" yEP YEAH THERE WE GO

"and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation" delicious (in my minds eye this came mostly from Emily and Hotch)

"easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it." lets fucking goooooo ga(y)mersssss

"What the hell were you doing applying for preschools?" 😚 guess 😚

"It wasn’t difficult math" FOR YOU !!!!!

"Maybe you had cheated on him" woooowwwww you're counting the days we've been apart for and tHIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY ? WOOOOWWWWW

"Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it" now we both know that's not true, Brain Blast

"on the current field team" sunny your words are hurtful

"having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth" suNNY YOUR WORDS ARE HURTFUL !!!!!

“I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” I can 🫣

"That was not something JJ had considered" ??? not everyone (looks pointedly at Will) enjoys getting cucked, JJ

"He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother" just because you parented yourself dOES NOT MEAN I WANT PARENTING TIPS FROM YOU BITCH BOY !!!!

(for anyone reading this for the first time, I know more of what actually happened so that's why Im so aggro at Spencer) (im yn she is me, I will take her grievances as my own)

"Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat" awwnn Pen, creepy <3

"The first night that he knew he was in love with you" yaaaay we get to be happy !!!!

"Virginia Symphony Orchestra" the song Cecily Smith will not begin to play on loop for this entire section :3

"You know, Bach actually married his cousin" 🙃 why must every historical figure dabble in some weird shit 🙃

"They had the same surname before marriage.” noooooooo that's the worst possible option

"Why don’t people play the organ anymore?" follow up question: why are they called organs ? weird name for a regular thing (like a big ass piano right?) in multiple different languages

"Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time." baby Spencer you are everything to me

"“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this" 😩😩😩 he's my favorite guy ever

"being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things" the power a Knows Everything And Info Dumps Constantly x Asks Random Questions All The Time couple has is indescribable

"the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” daaaamn jail for musician for a thousand years for cheating (i guess)

"reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you" YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHH !!!!! Literally every single person in this fandom cheered

"Spencer let out a gentle moan" >:3

"He had no clue where it all went so wrong" I still don't fucking buy that okay? like he has NO IDEA ???? EIDETIC MEMORY AND HE HAS NO IDEA ????? I think Spencer has repressed that night (and that over all storm of pain) so badly that he has truly not thought about it in detail for the past 4 years BUT !!! The moment he lets himself look back at it he will know exactly what he did/said (he's not stupid and he was aiming to hurt, he got what he wanted)

BEAUTIFUL GORGEOUS OUTSTANDING NEVER THE SAME !!!! I loooove this series already, I'm even more excited about fridays from now on <33

Bonus - I read it on ao3 and I KNEW this would fucking happen (which is hilarious)

Careful - Chapter One

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter One: Over Yet

We can go farther, beyond the end.

Summary:

You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.

That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.

Word Count: 5,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?

A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.

...

The team had been in Portland for three days.

No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers. 

A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers. 

“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?” 

He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers. 

Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad. 

Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects. 

Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete. 

They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree. 

“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.” 

She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued. 

“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.” 

“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized. 

“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.” 

“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.” 

Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on: 

“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.” 

“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.” 

“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration. 

“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him. 

“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.” 

“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.” 

He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it. 

“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on. 

“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.” 

“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.” 

“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.” 

“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” 

Prentiss visibly cringed at this. 

“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together. 

Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought. 

“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.” 

She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain. 

“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?” 

“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory. 

“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.” 

“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit. 

This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again. 

“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room. 

“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about. 

“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her. 

“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.” 

“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued. 

Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain. 

“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?” 

Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile. 

“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.” 

“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced. 

A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from. 

“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.” 

“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk. 

“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.” 

“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-” 

“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.” 

“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned. 

“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,” 

“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”

“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed. 

“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.” 

“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.” 

“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.” 

… 

The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office. 

After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through. 

So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 

“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 

“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 

“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 

“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned. 

“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed. 

“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 

The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it. 

It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever. 

It was you. 

What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 

Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully. 

Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day - 

You had a son. 

A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now. 

And his birth date was… fuck. 

He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again. 

One thousand, seven hundred and two days. 

Four years, eight months, and two days. 

It wasn’t difficult math. 

Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child? 

His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.  

Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life? 

Had you been keeping this from him intentionally? 

He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with. 

What the fuck was going on? 

There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions. 

Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe- 

“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention. 

Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically. 

“Did you find something?”��

… 

All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them. 

So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before. 

It could definitely work. 

When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone. 

So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house. 

…

“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,” 

“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts. 

He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air. 

“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?” 

JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend. 

Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated. 

Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation. 

The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up. 

But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago. 

Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again. 

It had been four years. 

JJ was someone he could lean on right now. 

“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest. 

“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked. 

“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it. 

“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?” 

It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look. 

“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned. 

“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer. 

“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.” 

“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” 

“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply. 

It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him. 

“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.” 

There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time). 

She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world. 

So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby? 

“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud. 

Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together. 

“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment. 

That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face. 

“One thing at a time, alright?” 

…

When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning. 

It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother. 

Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more. 

He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly. 

And now the two of you likely had a child together. 

Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang. 

“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.” 

She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you. 

He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing. 

He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’. 

Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open. 

At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return. 

You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone. 

Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you. 

But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock. 

He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever. 

“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 

You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot. 

You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.

So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him. 

You were breath-taking. 

“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already. 

You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock. 

Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date. 

The first night that he knew he was in love with you. 

… 

He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra. 

It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on. 

It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night. 

Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness. 

It was a perfect night. 

Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat. 

His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves. 

And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled. 

“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind. 

You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place. 

“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?” 

Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic. 

“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.” 

“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this. 

Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued. 

“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.” 

“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.” 

Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer. 

“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.” 

Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more. 

“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this. 

“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.” 

You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more. 

“Interesting.” You replied. 

“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” 

Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail. 

“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.” 

Spencer let out another bright laugh at this. 

“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.” 

“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile. 

“And see-” 

Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his. 

He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin. 

It was perfect. You were perfect. 

You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was. 

But Spencer was nothing like that. 

He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips. 

When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours. 

“That was… wow.” He sighed. 

“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle. 

“Well, I - you - wow.” 

It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter. 

Back then - everything had been perfect. 

He had no clue where it all went so wrong.

...

A/N: I really hope everyone enjoyed the first part! I would really love to see 10 Comments - in the form of replies, comments on reblogs, or asks (anonymous or not) and 20 Reblogs before I post the next part.

The series is technically finished in my drafts and just needs to be edited, but editing is usually the most difficult and tiring for me, and I would love to see some support and love for the series before I continue working on it, knowing that more people want to see me put effort into it. So please do leave a comment - even in the tags of a reblog - telling me what you enjoyed about it if you have read this far. It is much appreciated <33

[autisticlee]

I was sick for 6 weeks with whatever flu thing was going around here, which turned into bronchitis and sinus infection too. even though i'm pretty much better now, my tonsils still insist on constantly swelling and hurting so bad that it hurts to just breathe. I really wish my parents just listened to the doctors when I was a tiny child and got my tonsils removed because they were always tonsillitis-ing every time i got sick (which was the entire time I was in school until summer break). they're causing me more and more issues as I get older. I have constant tonsil stones which are painful and incredibly annoying (caused mostly by my gluten intolerance i've figured out) it's top late to get them out now because recovering from tonsillectomy as an adult is apparently the worst surgery you can get and i'm an absolute baby when it comes to throat pain and rather not exist (I will not drink or eat when throat hurts. i'm currently trying to force myself to drink a bottle of water and I cannot) and I know i'd have to pretend i'm fine and go to work the same day immediately after because that's how adulting works. 🙃 why does this body never work right.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Just finished reading separation, [I know I already reblogged it, but I felt the need to explain the emotional roller-coaster I went through and figured it would be best to explain it here]

Ahem... THE ANGST DURING THE FIRST HALF OMFG! 😫 HAD ME ON EDGE! and then him SCREAMING "FUCKING TELL ME" I had to pause and recollect myself bc lord have mercy that did something to me (I don't know what nor can I say if it's good or bad 🫣)

But seeing Javi being worried/concerned that he fucked up AND DIDN'T EVEN KNOW IN WHAT WHY... I was sobbing, screaming, crying, pulling my hair out. Heart breaking, to say the least 😭

I LOVED them communicating, and Javi wanting/needing reader to open up and communicate with him but still not forcing reader into doing so... again sobbing and crying while screaming 😭

Reader telling him the reason why she left and him not being able to say/do much because it's not something he can control but still trying to comfort reader 🥺

And last but not least [I could rant about this fic, but alas I won't]

“You like this, don’t you?” He asked, lowering the register of his voice the way she liked as he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You want me to possess you, to hurt anyone who would want you that way I have you. You like that I can be a dangerous man.”

That, my friends... that was FUCKING HOT 🥵

All this to say, I LOVED LOVED LOVED everything about this fic! I love how you write my beloved Javi 🥹🫶🏽

I would love to be added to your tag list 🙃 I hope you have a lovely day/night 🫶🏽 and you'll be hearing from me again when I either reread all your fics or when a new fic comes out 🤪

That is all from me. I just needed to let everyone know that I am OBSESSED with this fic and would recommend it to everyone 😌 [it is 4am and I'm feeling bold, so for the first, I will not be posting anonymously... 🫣]

Stay safe, healthy, and hydrated ❣️

First of all, I love your url. It’s perfect and hilarious 😆 Secondly, THANK YOU for the reblog and this beautiful comment. I love when I’m taken on an emotional rollercoaster so it’s cool to know that I wrote something that was an emotional rollercoaster haha.

Ngl, the “fucking tell me!” wasn’t supposed to be that way, I just meant it to be angsty. But then I went back to read it after your comment and now I’m like 👀 It just reminded me of how hot he is when angry (like in the scene where he’s yelling at a guy trying to find Helena). I want him to scream at me 😩 and that’s all I can say without being sent right to horny jail.

Javi is a soft, gentle, kind man despite everything he has seen and done. And he has this strong sense of duty and doing the right thing. Combined, those characteristics would make him want to be a good husband. He cares for everyone deeply and he starts caring fast. So someone he marries would have all his care and love and respect. He would want to treat her right and make her happy, but he can’t always do that because of his job and because he’s only human. Humans make mistakes. But he’s not one to forgive himself. He’ll keep a ledger of his faults and go over them repeatedly. So when someone he loves leaves out of the blue like that, his instinct is to blame himself. He goes over the ledger, try to figure out what exactly he did wrong this time and when he can’t figure it out, he just feels worse.

I think he can’t bear it when people cry. Because he cares. So even though he wants answers more than anything, he stops his pursuit quickly to hold her and comfort her.

Yessss I’m glad you enjoyed that part about him knowing how she likes that he can be dangerous. That part is a bit of a self-insert, tbh. But can ya blame me? Irl, I would never go for someone who shot people (and got shot at) for a living but since it’s Javi and he’s not real, I can let my worst fantasies run wild. And wanting someone something I know I shouldn’t want… that’s 🥵🥵🥵

This comment is the best thing ever and it makes my heart all warm and fuzzy. Thank you thank you thank you sooooo much for this. I’ll keep it in mind to tag you in my future Javi fics. And I’m excitedly waiting to hear from you again 💜

[jojameswinter]

1, 3, 12, 28, & 29 for the ao3 wrapped game!! sorry for getting carried away as;ldkfj

BRIZZ MY LOVE! ❤️ TY for playing along! 

1. How many words have you written this year?

Hm, I’m not really sure how to figure this out, LMAO! Let's go with words published...and accd to ao3 that’s 266,077

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Through the Storm has a special place in my heart! I don’t know why, but something about it is extremely cathartic and it just feels very close to me. I’m apologizing now for the meltdown I have when I’m done with it 🙃 My collab fic leave the lights up with @bobsfic is also very special to me! It’s my first time doing a collab and it’s just been the most amazing experience! ❤️

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

Oh boy...😂 Um. Well. Right now I have six wips that could potentially go into next year to finish...

As far as what’s in my docs...there’s one that’s near completion that probably won’t take til next year to post, but who’s to say? And then there’s probably a few other scattered, random half baked ideas out there too 🤡

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

I’d say same as #3, but to add something different, I enjoyed writing Double Vision in Rose Blush! It’s harder for me to write Kie, but BIG thanks to you and Tash, as well as other lovelies in the GC that helped me find her!  

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Not sure if I have a true favorite, but here’s one I liked!

He wonders what it means when you disappear so effectively you don't even know how to cover it up or where you are anymore. And there’s no way in hell he wants her to see that shit – feel for him, or worst of all, pity him.

Stupid things.

He didn’t even realize this whole time, he was doing the stupidest thing of all. Spending half his life being more than half in love with her. With someone who’s always going to be on the other side of the island, shiny and flawless behind some glass. A vibrant image of a future that’s always going to be stolen away by someone that he hated – namely his dad, but especially himself.

***

Come play! ao3 wrapped [writers edition]

[muddyorbsblr]

The way I kept on screaming and giggling the entire way through this chapter is absolutely insane 🫠😮‍💨

Fuuuuck, you thought; pussy suddenly throbbing.

Girl, SAME

Live footage of Agent while she was going through that entire mass:

I feel like he's already let go of so much of the bravado and that he's ready to let all of it go the second she says the words. The little smirk when he saw her, the innuendo in the prayer, the soft lil "Darling" before they were so rudely interrupted by the woman that wants a ✨special confession✨.

But this was the bit that showed me that there was a part of him that was hurt by the assumption that he slept around even after all this time they'd been playing this game:

“Why must you always think the worst of me?” “Why are you here? To taunt me? To parade yourself in front of me while you tease me with your endless games? Anyone else could have taken your place. Anyone.”

Like goddammit Agent that's about as honest as you're gonna get from him unless you're honest with him yourself 🙃

And the way that she sees this as a game that he's playing, too, and now that she knows she loves him she doesn't want it to end for fear that if she confesses she thinks that he's just going to move on another game. Honestly one of these two just needs to let slip that they love each other already 🫠

I mean…the awareness she has over her own feelings is already there and we know from "Bow to Me: Quivering" that he's also quite aware of where his own emotions are at so…time to share with the class 😂

It had always, only been him.

^ the way that that bit had me squealing

As a Catholic I thoroughly enjoyed reading through this and all the religious quips and the Our Father and the whole "don't look at me like that" at the figure of Jesus it all just had me completely beside myself 😂

I can't believe there's only 3 installments of this left! The way I'm incredibly stressed out now on how it's gonna end because of how long these two have danced around each other and played their games like I have my faith in you but also I'm scared that they're not going to confess until the grand finale (if they confess at all) 🫠

On the edge of my very seat for these two and I'm loving every second of it 🥴 I'm going to be a complete wreck once "Holy Orders: Mercy" is out especially after this line that just had me risking it all with the noise complaints once more:

"Mine." he rasped quietly, the word melting against your breathy moans unheard, before fastening his lips to yours in a desperate kiss.

Loving that the emotions are just bubbling below the surface and waiting to spill over from both sides. Another masterpiece of thirst and steamy moments between these two. And may I just say: Captain Satchel Rogers deserves a raise for assigning the undercover priest mission to Loki 👏👏👏

Holy Orders [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A Link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: (17) Loki is working undercover as a priest in Rome. Ecumenical eroticism ensues. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Heresy. Smuttish. Latin. Priest!Loki. Language. (w/c 3.6k)

The door of your holiday apartment slammed behind you, cursing as you stumbled down a tiny step directly onto the cobbled street. It had been three weeks since the travesty of the Renaissance Faire.

After three days, you had accepted that Loki’s attention denial was not a phase. After five, the absence of his irritating teasing had you feeling an unusually bitter disappointment.

After seven, when he had left for Rome without even a courtesy farewell, you had woken in the night wondering the unthinkable. What if Thor was right?

And after twelve, you had begrudgingly accepted that you loved him.

There was a morning buzz in the air, jostling bicycles ringing lightly as the slap of your sandals sounded lightly on the aged stone beneath your feet. You hurried across the street, trying not to be run over by a moped speeding past, blowing up the back of your sundress. Jesus Christ, you thought; heart pounding before your lips curled in a secret smile. Father Laufeyson wouldn’t like that kind of talk, you laughed to yourself as you rounded the corner and Piazza Navona came into view.

For two weeks, Loki had been working undercover in a small church tucked out of the main bustle of Rome. His home had been the same ancient streets you now walked. And you wondered as you passed the marbled carvings of roman gods hanging against the circular fountains, if he had ever thought about you.

Of course not, he’s been busy, you chided yourself, hoisting the bag strap on your shoulder. When Rogers had assigned him this mission, apparently the laughs of the team could be heard two floors below. But as it turned out, Loki could be as convincing as a priest as he could be as a heartless arsehole. Now that his information gathering was complete, you had been sent to collect the evidence. You volunteered, idiot. A seamless pass-over. In and out, Rogers had said. Fuck, should someone have told him it was me that was coming? What if he’s mad?

You turned another corner, skilfully avoiding a group of tourists buried in a map. And what if he’s not? you thought; a thrill of wild anticipation blossoming in your belly.

“The Church of Santa Maria dell'Anima…” you murmured absent-mindedly, looking up at the flat exterior of the sandy coloured stone building.

As far as Roman churches went, it wasn’t a big draw - favoured more by the faithful local residents than photo-happy tourists. Perfect for a Hydra Vatican infiltration ring, you thought, pursing your lips as the eager congregation filed past you up the short flight of steps to the entrance. Swirling a white shawl around your shoulders, you took a deep breath of heavy, heated air.

Morning mass was about to begin.

You slipped inside the ancient wooden doors, a waft of stale coolness tingling over your skin. The breath seemed to evaporate from your lungs as your gaze drew up, eyes scanning over the high marble pillars and bright frescos painted floor to ceiling. Warm orange and gold infused the air, the sting of spiced incense filling your nostrils. The low hum of foreign conversation echoed around the church from people filing between the wooden pews, facing the altar. And there he was.

Loki Laufeyson stood with a long wooden taper clasped gently between his fingers, re-lighting candles by the far side of the carved stone nave. Strands of waxy hair fell around his cheekbones, illuminated by a hundred flickering flames resting in the metal display.

A thick green vestment embroidered with gold hung over his body down to his calves, making him look even taller than he usually did. Pure white shirt sleeves billowed around his arms, swaying gently as he continued his intricate work unphased.

He looked deep in thought, a calm serenity bathing his sharp profile as he blew out the taper and watched the smoke waft aimlessly through speckles of swirling dust. Loki clasped his hands in front of him, flattening the luxurious fabric of his vestment against the washboard stomach you knew lay beneath.

He turned, bowing lightly towards the crucifix hanging above the altar before ascending the several low steps.

Fuuuuck, you thought; pussy suddenly throbbing. Your hand fumbled to the strap of your bag, lowering it and sliding subtly into the back row. A cold shock of wood pressed against the back of your bare knees, making you wince. When did I get so wet, you frowned; knowing exactly when, as Loki turned towards the congregation.

A bell chimed, summoning another priest from the side of the church. You drew the shawl tighter around your chest, feeling your heart thunder against the clench of your fist. A woman slid in beside you, tucking her hair nervously behind her ears before making a sign of the cross.

“Nel nome del Padre, del Figlio e dello Spirito Santo, Amen.” she murmured, running her wide eyes up and down the ridiculously handsome figure opening the large bible, poised behind the altar. You suddenly wondered if morning mass had always been this popular.

The low tinkle of bells echoed again as the service began. The crowd rose, fifty or so of the faithful bowing their heads as the undercover Avenger took centre stage.

He is loving this, you thought incredulously, seeing his arms rise at his sides. The drape of green and gold vestments shimmered in the light, a warm glow radiating upwards to his pale face bathed in morning bronze from the stained glass. The crowd before you sat down obediently on the lowering of his palms. You fumbled backwards, catching yourself on the edge of the long bench.

Loki’s stare ran over the congregation, covertly scanning every face like only his keen gaze could. It stopped on you, making your breath hitch. You thought you saw the tug of a smirk at the side of his lips, a glint in his eye. Or maybe it was the light.

The next twenty minutes passed in a religiously erotic blur, swathes of ceremonial chants in Italian at Loki’s command making your thighs squeeze together. Heresy, you thought; a shudder rolling down your spine as the god leant forward to kiss the gospel. I’d be burnt in the old days.

The second priest had blessedly taken over to give the sermon, the broken words you could understand not even registering as you watched Loki listen rapturously to the side in feigned interest. He knows I’m watching him, you scowled; realising that every casual smooth of his stomach, every clench of his perfect jaw was for you.

How you wanted to storm up the marbled aisle, grab his stupid fancy poncho in a fist and kiss him violently against the golden tabernacle. Might blow his cover, though; you thought, immediately thinking of what else you could blow as he gripped onto the tall candlesticks by the altar.

The vivid fantasy was broken as the congregation shuffled to a stand. The woman beside you adjusted her cleavage, shaking her hair back. Loki raised his hand. “Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum.” he said, the practised words of prayer a chant - that velvet voice sinking through the heavy air like double cream. Even speaking in Latin, it was irresistible.

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be your name

Your hips shuddered back against the wooden pew, bare skin of your thighs dragging against the grain. You recognised the tempo. How could you not.

“Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra.” Loki spoke slowly, eye-fucking you menacingly from the top of the raised steps behind the lecturn. His lips hovered on ‘tuum’, a fizz of unstoppable need rising in your belly as you recalled its place in the prayer.

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on Earth, as it is in heaven.

Dozens of voices chimed around you, their Italian lilt making the dead language sing. But it was only his earthen tones you heard. Only him.

It had always, only been him.

“Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut, et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris” he rumbled in baritone, tilting his head.

Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, As we forgive those who trespass against us

You raised your gaze to meet his, knowing it would be waiting as he stood with his large hands encasing the sides of the lectern by the altar. His eyes narrowed briefly, the subtle slant of his brows betraying his utter bemusement at your presence.

“Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo.” he growled, the timbre of his voice making the woman beside you straighten. You could see her fingertips digging into the soft flesh between her knuckles, hands clasped in prayer.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

How appropriate, you mused. You watched as Loki slid the bible from its place, holding it briefly aloft and placing a kiss against the leather before lowering it to his crotch in a gentle hold.

“Amen.” he murmured, solemnly; lowering his chin.

“Amen.” came the ringing response. “Amen.” you echoed slowly, squinting thoughtfully as Loki turned and sat with a smirk.

You sat back down, questioning everything. Did you think that when he saw you it would have been any different from how it ever was? That he would somehow wordlessly communicate that he was pleased to see you? That he had missed you? That he loves me too, you scoffed painfully; flinching as the organ sprang to life.

The communion procession began with those at the front of the church, each person pausing in front of the priest to receive god’s bounty. Loki and his counterpart held the small, circular host aloft, their lips moving before placing it on the recipients tongue. Kinky, you thought; before realising the woman to your right had risen and joined the slow moving queue. Fuck.

You shuffled behind her, rolling your eyes as she fiddled nervously with her hair, smoothing and re-smoothing the same strands. Your gaze wandered to the ornate figure of Christ hanging on the cross above the altar, his limp form getting closer and closer. Don’t look at me like that, you huffed to the disappointed looking Jesus; immediately switching focus to the floor beneath your feet.

“Corpo di Cristo…” a dark voice murmured. It was tinged with weighty intentions, thick memories of feral moans of unrestrained passion in your ear flooding your mind as you fluttered your lashes upwards. Loki’s eyes betrayed none of your history, his stare glazed; the twitch of one dark eyebrow the only indicator that he ever knew you at all.

“Amen.” you whispered hoarsely, parting your lips.

He placed the host gently on your outstretched tongue. Against your better judgement, you felt your lids flicker shut, the soft graze of his fingertip smoothing against wet muscle that longed for his touch.

It lingered, the melt of the wafer beginning to slide down your throat. His wide fingertip pulled imperceptibly at your bottom lip on its withdrawal, making your eyes shoot open. Loki’s brows raised, a light furrow reminding you that there was an entire congregation at your back. You gave a small nod towards him, scurrying around the front pews and back to your seat.

You could feel the burning heat in your cheeks for the rest of the mass, ten minutes feeling like an endless vat of time. The final blessing was, in reality, swift. A few chimes, swings of incense and murmurs of reverent praise and it was done.

Loki disappeared in procession with the other priest behind a door at the back of the church in a sway of luxurious, billowing green. The stillness of the holy space washed over you as attendees left in their own time. You checked your watch. Forty-five minutes. Had that been all?

The clap of your sandals against the marble floor echoed as you walked slowly around the walls, drawn to the beauty of the figures drawn by those long dead. You traced your fingers over cracks in the face of a rather grim looking Virgin Mary. “I know how you feel…” you whispered to no-one, feeling the plaster catch beneath delicate skin.

“I very much do not think you know how she feels.”

Your hand paused on the fresco, falling to your side as you turned. Loki stood resplendent before you, the folds of his holy garment making him look more achingly irresistible than he ever had before. You felt a frown crease your forehead, pursing your lips to stop a moan. It was worse up close.

Loki leant forward, casting a conspiratorial glance towards a small group of locals loitering by the door. “-due to the fact that for one thing, she is a virgin, while you...Agent...” he smirked. Your frown deepened.

“Keep your voice down.” you hushed, glancing over your shoulder. Satisfied, you looked back to Loki, his obsidian hair curled behind delicate ears revealing the white flash of his clerical collar. The bone structure you knew so well against the curves of your body sang in the mid-morning light through the windows, every iridescent inch of his skin glowing with tantalising radiance.

“I see you still managed to wear green.” you scoffed under your breath, making the priest chuckle lightly. “It’s Ordinary Time in the church calendar, Agent. Did you not read the briefing documents? It is the standard colour for the season” he drawled quietly, giving a reverent nod to his fellow priest heading for the door and the beckon of Rome beyond.

“They really think you’re one of them?” you said, turning towards a row of candles flickering to the side. Each one represented someone loved and lost, a prayer. A hope.

“Of course." he scoffed. "Father John Lockhart on pilgrimage from England. Why would they suspect?”

You ran your eyes down the silk embroidered vestment which hid his intensely muscular body. Just. The bulge of his biceps shifted beneath the billowing sleeves making your gaze hover. “Priests aren’t usually so…”

“Yes?” he goaded, raising an eyebrow in amusement. You dropped a coin in the basket, taking a candle and fingering the wick. “You don’t seem like the type, that’s all. I’m surprised you didn’t shapeshift.”

Loki chuckled. “My dear, you clearly don’t know Catholicism. A web of mysteries and contradictions which go far beyond their lore-bound texts...” he said, shifting so you stood with biceps pressing against each other.

“Are you considering a change of vocation then?” you quipped, playing with the wick between your fingers. He faced the wall of candles, but you could feel the stare of his eyes roaming the sliver of skin beneath the parted shawl. “Not quite.” he muttered absent-mindedly. “The reverence and theatrics are appealing I grant you, but there is far too much celibacy for my liking.”

The ghost of his breath skated across your collarbone, the unbearably small distance between you making every nerve in your body vibrate with desire.

“What are you praying for, mio figlio?” he murmured innocently under his breath as the wick of your candle caught flame from another. My child, you thought with a grimace, recognising the taboo of unmistakeable arousal deep in your pussy.

You watched the tear-dropped fire settle from its first rage, flickering gently as it came to terms with its place in the world. Setting it down amongst the others, you turned your chin to look up at him. The blues of Loki’s irises swam with green in the shadowed alcove, the dance of the candlelight illuminating him like a bygone Saint.

“Salvation.” you whispered quietly, voice catching.

Without knowing why, you bowed your head. The god’s fingers flew gently beneath your chin, tilting it upwards once more. His eyes were wide, lips parted as he inhaled softly. “Darling, I-”

“Padre?” a voice muttered tentatively behind you.

You and Loki both turned, seeing the fidgeting figure of the woman who had been your unknowing lust-buddy all through the service.

“Sì, figlia mia?” Loki replied gently, his hands disappearing back into the draped sleeves of his robes as he clasped them together. You rolled your eyes, pivoting back towards the wall of tealit flames. The thunder of your heart was a solid beat in your ears, pounding. His smooth voice rumbled in Italian, the sweet ministrations of his undercover persona clearly honed over the past two weeks. “Grazie Padre…” you heard the woman say, a tremble in her voice; before quick footsteps echoed away from you.

Loki chuckled, resuming his position by your side. “Impure thoughts about an inappropriate figure, apparently.” he whispered, barely contained glee bursting from the confines of propriety. “Wishes to make a confession to me personally at the next session. Imagine that. I wonder who it could be.”

“You are impossible." you sighed, a wave of jealousy roaring in your belly. "I bet you’ve been very popular here in that regard.” you said through gritted teeth, trying to focus on the wavering light of your candle. Salvation.

“Always so quick to judge.” he chuckled, drawing himself stoically upwards. “My dear, I am a priest.” he said, turning to face you. His nose was inches from your forehead, the empty church feeling stifling as the air settled around you both. “I have been a beacon of chastity...and contrary to popular belief, I do take my assignments seriously.”

Slowly, you met his gaze – the sincerity in his face, unmistakeable. “I didn’t think you took anything seriously, Father.” you said, mockingly; unable to stop yourself as you watched his eyes narrow at the words.

“Don’t you mean Daddy, Agent?” he smouldered, “Or am I nothing but a memory to you now with my brief absence?”

In two quick steps from his impossibly long legs, your back was flush against the nearest wall. The curve of the low archway hung dangerously close to Loki’s full height as he loomed above you. His forearm pressed to the marble cornicing above your head, trapping you like a lamb for slaughter.

A long sleeve of forest green shielded you from the gaze of a dozen judgemental statues, the collar around his neck straining against the weight of a hard vein that bulged ominously. “Why must you always think the worst of me?” he growled, the primal sound rumbling deep in his throat hoarse and wild. Familiar burning lust bubbled uncontrollably to the surface in those beautifully dangerous eyes as his chest heaved, daring you to respond.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you said, flustered as the shawl fell around your shoulders to the floor. Loki stepped closer, fingertips of the hand not affixed above your head squeezing into the flesh of your bare bicep.

“I think you know very well.” he spat, all traces of serenity gone as he blazed beneath a façade of restraint. “Why are you here? To taunt me? To parade yourself in front of me while you tease me with your endless games? Anyone else could have taken your place. Anyone.”

Your frown deepened, a deep ache blossoming in your belly as you tasted the rage on his every word. You shouldn’t have come.

“-Or am I wrong? Have you come to confess to me, darling?” he hummed goadingly, the feeling of his tips running down your aching skin making your shiver.

Sarcasm bit through his words, slicing through the intimacy of the moment. “And what better place? What better persona? Are you ready to admit your undying love for me and put this charade to an end? Or have your attentions wandered...”

A staggered breath surged in your throat as his hand traced down your cleavage, feeling your resistance falter. You could feel the swell of his hard erection through the drape of holy garb, the violence of his lust boiling beneath the shroud of theatrical consecration. The words were on the tip of your tongue- But then the game will be over for him. He will have won, you thought with a chill; And what then?

Loki’s brow furrowed, a jolt of his jaw taking you by surprise – like shaking off a fly. Whatever was in your head, he clearly didn’t want to hear it.

“And what about you…?” you managed to quiver through shaky breaths, your hands sliding tentatively over his shoulders. Loki tilted his head, confusion etched across his brow. In a brief second, you saw his bravado falter, features softening as he processed the possible meanings of your request. His tongue darted out, licking quickly over his cupid’s bow before biting his lip.

He shook his head, a solitary gasp of forced laughter gusting against your parted lips.

“I have just recalled I seem to owe you a certain...something, do I not?” he said casually, skating over his previous barbs as he tried to change the subject. You shuffled against the wall, attempting to pull him closer to you and failing. “More than one, actually.” you muttered, feeling the wet slick between your thighs grow hot. It was embarrassing how much you needed him. Above everything else, it was him.

“More than one?” Loki purred disapprovingly, tsk’ing as he raised an eyebrow. His hips dragged up your pelvis, every forbidden inch of his solid cock making you mad with need. You began to pant, as he thrust once against your torso. Creases had formed at the corner of his eyes; his outburst it seemed...forgotten.

He released the forearm from the wall above your head, a theatrical flourish of his arm making the heavy metal bolt across the doors of the church slam shut with an almighty clang.

“Here?” you gasped, feeling the embroidery of his sacred vestment scratch against your cleavage as he pressed his muscular torso against you. “But what about...you know.” You tilted your chin upwards towards the crucifix in explanation, the majesty of the surroundings somehow making you forget to whom you were pinned against.

“Don’t worry about Him, Agent…” Loki whispered, before his lips wrapped around your earlobe, sucking gently. “Mine are the only Holy Orders you shall be following today. Mine, the only sacrament your body desperately needs.” His dirty whispers hummed against your skin, falling deeper into the waves of sin with each dark syllable. "Mine." he rasped quietly, the word melting against your breathy moans unheard, before fastening his lips to yours in a desperate kiss.

To be continued in Holy Orders: Mercy (coming soon) Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @k-writer17 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @joyful-enchantress

[sopebubbles]

Chapter 5

<- master list ->

At thirty-one weeks your baby can distinguish sounds and even respond to music.

Chapter summary: Jeongguk comes to his senses...kind of

Warnings: cursing, drinking (not Y/N), jk asks briefly if she thought of getting rid of the baby but we already know she didn't.

A/n: the beginning of this chapter picks up pretty much right after chapter 4, and then there's a little time jump. Enjoy 🙃

WC: 4K

It was easy for Jimin to see that you're nervous about meeting with Jeongguk. He watches you closely as you stare into the mug of tea you're gripping tightly in your hands. 

“It will be fine,” he tries to reassure for the tenth time. 

You only give him a tense smile in response. You’ve never really been around Jeongguk one on one before, except that one time, and you were both drunk then, and Jeongguk had a one track mind. You’ve been around him as part of the group before, but that's different. The thing about Jeongguk is that he always has his charm turned on, and maybe he just isn’t capable of turning it off. You’d been scared of the same thing with Jimin once, but Jeongguk is somehow more intimidating. He had seduced you, afterall. There's a part of you that's afraid he'll come to you with all kinds of demands that you won’t be able to stand against, no matter how much you want to. The worst part is just that you don’t know what to expect. What will you say if he accuses you of lying, if he denies the whole thing? Well, you guess, that would be fine. You’d go on as you had before. But would Jimin take his side?

The air in the room gets tense as Jimin lets Jeongguk into his apartment. Jimin leads him through to where you sit at his kitchen island. Jeongguk feels at home there, though it has been a bit since he visited. 

For you on the other hand, it's your first time. In the weeks that your friendship had been building, Jimin hadn't yet found a clear reason to invite you over, in spite of the fact that he frequently wanted to pack up all the items in your tiny apartment and move you here instead, especially when he thought about your stupid stairs. Everything is of the highest quality from the marble tile to the granite counter tops. He'd offered you a tour when you arrived, but you declined it for another time. Just from what you could see, the place was absolutely pristine, probably because he still spent most of his nights at the dorm. 

"You want something to drink?" Jimin offers to Jeongguk as he sits some feet away from you. 

"Whiskey," Jeongguk says under his breath. You can't help an ironic little laugh escaping your lips. The last drop of alcohol you had was the night you and he slept together. His eyes briefly dart toward your figure before quickly looking away when he notices you're avoiding looking at him as well. Neither of you says a word until Jimin sets the glass of amber liquid on the counter, breaking the silence. Jeongguk takes a big drink from the glass before he sets it back down. 

"You look good, Y/N," Jeongguk compliments as he looks to the bottom of his glass. 

You and Jimin both roll your eyes and a scoff leaves the back of Jimin's throat. Both you and Jeongguk snap your eyes to your host. 

"Jimin, maybe you could let us talk alone for a bit?" you suggest softly. Truthfully, you don't want him to leave, but you think neither you nor Jeongguk will say what you both need to say, what you truly feel, if Jimin is there mediating. You might as well be honest with each other. Jimin pouts for a moment before he hangs his head and drifts away to his bedroom. 

Silence hangs in the air around you, both sipping quietly on your drinks before Jeongguk finally speaks. 

“You’re sure that it’s mine?” 

You grit your teeth and resist the urge to roll your eyes again. "Yeah. I'm sure. You didn't use a condom, remember?"

He winces a little. That was a stupid move and he knows it. “I could make you take a paternity test to be certain." He pauses and you prepare to go off on him, but then he continues. "But for some reason I don’t feel like you’re lying.”

"I'm not," you mumble back, tears prickling your eyes for some reason. Another silence falls between you.

“Did you consider getting rid of it?” he asks abruptly, but you shake your head as you press your palms to your belly.

"I want this baby, Jeongguk. I don't know what you want, or what you see happening here, but I'm having this baby and it's staying with me." Inside you feel scared, like you’re under attack, but your voice holds firm, and Jeongguk is taken aback. 

“I always imagined being a father, you know? I just imagined I’d find the right girl, one that I love, and that I’d know what to do when the time came. Right now I feel completely lost," he admits. 

You let out a sigh. Finally some common ground for you two. "Yeah, I get that completely."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do right now, Y/N." Jeongguk buries his face in his hands as he leans his elbows against the counter. 

“I don’t need anything from you, Jeongguk. I can raise this baby on my own. I don't need your input.” 

“You just need Jimin then?” His tone is clearly mocking, and you don't care for it at all.

“I don’t need anyone. Jimin is here because he wants to be. If you think you can stop him, then go ahead and try.”

"I'm not going anywhere!" Jimin calls from across the apartment. 

"What the?" You turn to follow the sound of the voice but you can't even see him. 

"Oh yeah, Jimin has like, wicked good hearing," Jeongguk informs you. You chuckle as you turn back toward the counter. 

Jeongguk sighs heavily. "Y/N, I can't publicly acknowledge this baby. It would ruin my career."

"I know. Like I said, I'm not asking-"

"But I want to be a part of its life." You look at him with wide eyes. Truthfully you werent expecting that. "If I have a child I need to be a part of its life."

"How do you propose to do that?" Your tone is perhaps a bit harsher than necessary, but he doesn't take it badly.

"I don't know, Y/N. I told you I don't know what to do. But I can help. Financially. Maybe you could live in the building and then I would be able to visit easily without raising suspicion." Jeongguk was really just thinking of the top of his head at this point.

"What building?"

"Here. I live on another floor," he tells you as if he thought you already knew.

"How would I ever afford to live in a place like this, Jeongguk?" you ask incredulously. 

He shrugs casually. "I'll pay. Or you could move in? Honestly the apartment is huge and I hardly spend any time there."

You can't help the scoff coming from your throat. "You want me to raise my baby in the apartment you bring girls to so you can fuck them at god knows what hour?"

"Well-"

"You could move in with me!" Jimin interjects, flying into the room to offer his two cents.

"Jimin, how can I move in with you?" You shake your head. 

"My apartment is just as big as Jeongguk's! I have more rooms than I know what to do with! There's a room for you and a room for baby Mochi's nursery, too! And I don't fuck random women here, ever!"

"Jimin-"

"Baby Mochi?" Jeongguk asks in an edgy tone. 

"That's what I call the baby," you explain. "It has nothing to do with him," you add when he eyes you suspiciously.

"Please?" Jimin begs you with his eyes and his voice. "I'm desperate to get you out of that awful apartment."

"My apartment is not awful!" you defend.

Jimin sighs and leans over the counter, reaching for your hand. "Y/N-ah, I know this is hard for you, but think about it. You have a little time, but not too much. Do you really want to live with your baby there?"

You pull your hands away and lean back in the bar stool looking down at your bump as you rub your hands over it. "I don't want to depend on either of you. My baby and I will be fine. We should make it on our own," you tell them softly. 

"Our baby, Y/N," Jeongguk reminds you. "I know I'm late, and this is all my fault, but m-mochi is ours. You have to let me help at least."

You sigh heavily. "Give me some time to think, please?" You look him directly in the eyes for the first time all night, and he nods.

"How much longer do you have to go?" 

You smile at your bump. "If all goes well, about 12 weeks, or a little less than 3 months."

Jeongguk nods thoughtfully. He's missed so much already, but he hopes he won't miss much more. "C-can I feel your stomach?" he asks sheepishly. 

A sweet smile spreads across your face and your chest fills with warmth. You have no idea how to work all this out, but it's nice to know that he wants to know your child, starting right now. You take his hand and guide him to where you felt a kick a little while ago, but it's calm for now. 

"They might not-oh!" You exclaim as Mochi kicks, and Jeongguk's eyes go wide, his mouth forming a little oh.

"My baby is so strong," he smiles proudly after a moment. 

"Our baby," you remind him with a laugh.

"Right. We're gonna be okay, right?" He looks to you for assurance. You nod, but Jimin can see you're still nervous.

"You both keep forgetting that you aren't alone. I'll support you, and Namjoon hyung will come around eventually. He'll have to."

"Thanks, hyung," Jeongguk smiles at him, weakly but gratefully. 

"Can I have the sonogram picture back?" Jimin asks. 

Jeongguk shoots him a sharp look. "Get your own!"

"That is mine!"

"I did get it for him, Jeongguk," you admit.

"I'll make you a copy," he mumbles. 

It's not like Jeongguk becomes father of the year overnight. It's not like he suddenly steps up to be your partner either. But he's acknowledging it, and that's something. He sends you a text pretty much every day asking if the baby is doing okay. Sometimes he asks if you need anything. A couple of times he even asked how you're feeling and once he crashed a movie night you were having at Jimin's apartment and didn't look at you like you were going to ruin his life. A gentleman. So you really weren't ready for the excited text you got a couple weeks after he accepted his new reality.

You always delete Jeongguk's texts once the conversation is over, per his request, just in case. 

When you get to Jimin's apartment you're surprised to find only Jeongguk there. You never texted Jimin about the plan to meet up there, but you assumed he would be present. Now you're wondering if he even knows the two of you are here.

"What's this about?" you ask Jeongguk tersely as you set down your purse and slip out of your jacket. "Where's Jimin?" 

You don't mean to be so cold and standoffish toward him. It's just that work was really hard today, and you thought Jimin would be here to break the tension the way he does without doing almost anything but existing. The idea of being alone with Guk still makes you nervous.

"I was reading online about the progress of your pregnancy - wait. You're at thirty-one weeks, right?" He pauses for you to nod. "So I read that at thirty-one weeks the baby's senses are developed enough to distinguish sounds, so I wanted to play some of our songs for them and see which were their favorites."

You're tempted to roll your eyes, but that's actually adorable. And he looks beyond excited. "Oh," you breathe, slightly caught off guard. "So what do you want me to do?"

"I brought headphones and I thought we could put them on your stomach and see if they respond to any of the songs." He holds up the on-ear headphones for you to see. You've done this before actually, albeit with much less expensive looking headphones. Still you're unsure of where to move and what you should do. "Here, you can lay down on the couch." 

He's enthusiastic but gentle as he takes your hand and leads you to the long leather couch in Jimin's living room. He'd already arranged some pillows for you to lean back on before you arrived, and you let yourself sink into them. Jeongguk sits down on the floor right beside your bulging belly and lifts the headphones before he pauses.

"It might be better if you lift your shirt so there's no excess muffling."

You swallow hard and blink up at the ceiling. His tone reveals just how accustomed he is to asking women to lift their shirts. No, he doesn't say it in a way that's remotely suggestive, but there's also no hint that he feels remotely as awkward about it as you do. After a moment of nervous hesitation, you slide your fingers down your stomach until you grip the bottom of your shirt, fingers curling anxiously around the hem of your over-stretched shirt before dragging the fabric up over your belly. Jeongguk's eyes linger for a moment on your taut stomach. It's like it just clicked for him at this moment that your body has had to change in order for his baby to grow. Your eyes glance down to him for a moment when he doesn't move and you clear your throat. Jeongguk swallows hard and places the earpieces to your belly.  

"What should we start with?" he muses with a small smile on his lips. "What's your favorite song?" 

He looks at you with expectant eyes. You're still not quite over the nerves of the position you currently find yourself in, but you have to admit there's something good natured and wholesome about the look he's giving you. He's not messing around. He's actually excited and in some way he wants to spend time with his baby, so you grin when you answer.

"Look here."

Jeongguk erupts in laughter, falling sideways in Jimin's coffee table. It's such a familiar, almost comforting sound. "No, seriously," he gets out as he tries to calm down.

"Seriously, that's a classic!" You can't help laughing yourself.

"It's not even the best song on that album!" But he taps away on his phone until sound emits from the speakers pressed to your belly. He turns the volume all the way up, and you can feel the vibrations against your skin as 'Danger' begins. You try to quiet your giggles so you can pay attention to Mochi. You're not exactly sure what you're waiting for, but it doesn't happen. They're completely still.

"I don't think they're into it," you tell the man beside you quietly. Jeongguk grins while he searches for another song. 

"Maybe they'll like the sound of daddy's voice," he grins as 'Euphoria' starts to play. Again you wait patiently. This time, it's not nothing, but it's not much either, a little hiccup they do from time to time. It's supposed to help the baby practice breathing. Jeongguk doesn't even notice, but you keep waiting, and as the song peaks, nothing else occurs. Jeongguk frowns a little, but his pout only seems determined. He stays in Love Yourself: Answer, choosing one of his own favorites. Immediately following Jimin's first note you feel a kick, and Jeongguk can see it from the outside too. He perks up from his position on the floor and lifts his hand without asking to your stomach, to rest on the spot where he saw the bump. At least his hand is warm, you think as you try to settle your shock.

"Of course they respond to Jimin's voice," he mutters with just a hint of annoyance. He knows he shouldn't be upset with his hyung. After all, you probably never would have told him otherwise, and he wouldn't be having this moment right now. But it doesn't mean he likes the fact that Jimin has spent more time around you and his baby. He can't help feeling a little jealous at the thought that his baby recognizes Jimin's voice and not his own. You could bear a little bit of the blame for that, but not all of it. He sings along with Jimin's words, hoping his own voice will reach through your belly to his child. Another kick comes and Jeongguk's eyes and smile both widen.

Jeongguk let's the song play out before skipping to Magic Shop. More subtle movements from Mochi that bring a smile to their father's features. Then you suggest Mikrokosmos, because it's a favorite of yours and you're getting into the whole experiment quite a bit. Mochi turns out to be a lot like you, because there's plenty of movement inside your womb as the song plays, as if they're dancing.

"Maybe he'll be a dancer like his father," Jeongguk grins, rubbing his thumb against your skin fondly. 

"You think they'll be a boy?" You wonder, a little surprised. Jimin almost had you buying into his baby girl agenda, even though you were trying to stay neutral. 

"Oh. I don't know. I just said that. I guess when I picture them I think of a boy. Maybe I just hope it won't be a girl," he shrugs.

Your brow furrows at that. "Why don't you want a girl?"

"It's not like that, Y/N. It's just that...I think it's harder to be a girl right? And with jerks like me out there? I guess it's just scarier to think of her being a girl," he admits. You had to give him that. Though there were moments that any child terrified you.

Mochi moves again and it brings giggles out of both of you.

"What the f- What are you doing?" Jimin's voice breaks through your laughter when he sees the two of you in his living room. Well that answers your curiosity about whether or not he knew.

Your eyes go wide as you sit up. His tone fills you with the feeling of getting caught doing something wrong. A distinctly adolescent feeling. "I'm sorry," you apologize quietly.

Hearing your small voice - so timid and remorseful - softens Jimin's expression. He'd never been upset to begin with, just surprised, because no, Jeongguk hadn't asked if you all could use his place tonight, but he had made a blanket offer. It was just like the maknae not to say anything. 

"It's okay," Jimin rushes out, seeing you try to get up and signaling with his hand for you to lay back down. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be here, but it's okay."

As he takes a breath he observes the scene in his living room more closely. Part of your stomach is still exposed although the headphones have fallen into your lap. Jeongguk hasn't moves from his spot on the floor beside you at all, except now his hand is on your leg instead of your bump. Jimin can't quite name the feeling in his chest, but it aches. A voice in his head screams at Jeongguk to get away from you and Jimin's jaw clenches in order to hold the words in. Jeongguk has every right to spend time with you, he tells himself. Really he's probably spending time with his baby, that just so happens to be growing inside of you. You can't help that. He tries to calm down the flame in his chest with another deep breath.

"Did I interrupt something? Do you want me to go?" Jimin asks, a bit teasingly.

"Of course we don't want you to go. This is your place." You try your best to laugh it off and give him a light smile. You haven't done anything wrong, and you know that. So why do you feel like you've been caught in the act? Why do you want it to be clear to Jimin that nothing was happening he couldn't be there for. Hell, you'd been wishing all along that he was there. "We were just...playing some music for Mochi."

"To see which is their favorite BTS song," Jeongguk further explains.

"I bet she likes Serendipity," Jimin smirks.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes and grumbles. "It was okay."

"Do you wanna try? We've been playing songs and interpreting movement as the baby liking it. But you know we could be wrong and maybe Mochi is telling us to knock it off," you laugh awkwardly as you babble. God, why won't the tension go away. If only Jeongguk would move away from you, then you might feel at ease.

"Oh, that sounds-"

"Actually, I think I'm gonna call it a night," Jeongguk says quickly as he gets to his feet in springy movement you haven't been able to pull off in months. 

"Okay," you reply softly, swinging your legs off the couch now that he's made room. 

"See you later, Y/N. Take care," he says as he walks toward the front door. 

"You don't have to go," Jimin whispers to him as he passes.

"It's fine. You guys probably wanna spend some time together or something," Jeongguk replies sarcastically, almost bitterly, and Jimin can't quite work it out. What's he so upset for? Neither you nor Jimin moves as you watch him walk out the door and close it hard behind him. Thankfully the tension in the room seems to leave with him. You're about to move from your seat to gather your things and leave, but Jimin sits down beside you before you can.

"What's up with him? Did something happen?" 

You can only shrug. "I really don't know."

"Do you have to rush off? Have you eaten?" he asks, hoping you'll stay for a bit. He feels he hasn't seen you in forever, but really it's only been a few days.

"I ate dinner." You frown at your belly. "I'm a little hungry again though," you admit.

"I have some dumplings left over from dinner," he offers, gesturing to the box he left on the table by the entrance.

"I don't want to eat your food."

"Don't worry! I'm stuffed and I don't mind sharing. Do you want me to heat it up?" He's off the couch and grabbing the to-go container before you can even respond. 

"Uh, no, cold is fine, if you're sure you don't mind," you answer meekly.

"I'm sure." He places the container in your hands and watches you open it with a satisfied smile. They smell divine. You're about to pick one up with your fingers and shove a whole dumpling in your mouth before you stop yourself and look up at him with bashful eyes. His eyes roll in response and he sinks back down in front of you, facing you. "You can eat with you hands, Y/N. I won't judge. But I'll get chopsticks if you want."

"No, no. I'll just shame myself, it's fine," you shrug before he can get off the couch again. "Who did you go to dinner with?" you ask before taking the whole delicious morsel in your mouth. Probably with some pretty girl who doesn't it like an animal...and isn't seven months pregnant. 

"With Hoseok hyung. He wanted to talk and catch up a bit. We haven't really spent much time together lately. He said-" Jimin's entranced by how much you seem to be enjoying the food he gave you, yet you seem go be paying more attention to what he's saying than he is as you push another dumpling last your lips. He's mentally searching his fridge for anything else to offer you, wanting to make sure you're full before you leave. 

"What did Hoseok say?" You wonder after you swallow.

Jimin shakes his head. "He asked if you were okay, if you needed anything. He's supportive but he doesn't really know anything about babies. He wanted me to let you know he'll be there, if you ever need him."

You feel your cheeks tingle and your eyes water a bit. "That's so sweet," you mumble around your mouthful of food, to which Jimin laughs beautifully.

"Yeah, it was." Jimin clears his throat and looks for something else you say as you eat the last dumpling. "Do you want a sneak peak of the new single?" He asks suddenly.

First your eyebrows shoot up and you're about to nod an enthusiastic affirmative, but you stop yourself to think and swallow.

"Wait. Is the going to be one of those 'I'll show it to you but you have to tell me what's happening on Run next week' things?"

Jimin scrunches his face angrily at you. "Damn. You're so good at that. Ugh. Fine! You wanna watch a movie or something?"

You smile and nod and settle back on the couch with him.

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