#haha i have to leave for work in twenty minutes help

[sinkingquail]

a ramble about taliesin's spoon-feeding line

cw: caregiver burnout, dementia hi @dynamite124 please let me know if you want me to take the audio file down!

i was thinking about how taliesin really would take care of the ldb for the rest of their life if they happen to be unable to take care of themselves after reading the elder scroll

aka rambles from someone working as a caregiver for people with dementia and how fucking meaningful this is

(this is half me being amazed at tally, half me explaining the horrors of dementia)

tl;dr: i believe that by the time taliesin says this line, he genuinely loves the player. like so, so much i can't even begin to describe it.

to preface this, i've been working in memory care for about half a year now. it is so fucking heartbreaking, guys.

for those unfamiliar with dementia, it's a very slow, insidious disease that results in memory loss first and foremost, but can also lead to paranoia, aggression, loss of motor function, inability to process sensory info, aspiration pneumonia (this is usually what kills people with dementia - it's important for people that have trouble swallowing to be on a puréed food diet and let me tell you, it looks fucking terrible)

here's a few examples of the people in my care. note that these are people that families have decided they can no longer take care of and pay a LOT of money for their care, so they tend to be in the later stages of dementia:

guy that is just constantly walking around the building. his eyes don't track you, he doesn't react to most stimulus, when he talks it's nonsense. he's in his 70s.

lady that says her dog is running around, she can see her in the hallways. her dog is over the rainbow bridge as of last year. she is also one of our most independent residents

guy that i'd transfer from his wheelchair to his chair. after he sits, he would touch the wheelchair and ask me what it is

the one i want to talk about the most, a husband and wife that have been married for 60+ years. the husband is cognitively intact and very independent (he can drive) and the wife, well... she's absolutely dependent on us

anyways, here's the exact quote taliesin says when the dragonborn messes with him and pretends they've actually gone insane from reading the elder scroll:

"You had me half worried I'd have to spoon feed you for the rest of your life. And that is NOT a kink I am into."

(leave it to tally to use humor to deflect again) i cannot stress how insane this is.

anyways, the husband that i mentioned previously has essentially halted the rest of his time on earth to take care of his wife, who he's been married to for over 60 years. it is simultaneously heartbreaking and beautiful just how much love the husband has for this person.

i'd like to compare that to taliesin, who will say this after... how long of knowing the ldb? like a couple years, max?

(this is not to downplay the husband's sacrifice, but rather to give a comparison of the sheer amount of love that goes into making this kind of decision)

i argue that by the time this happens in-game, taliesin truly, truly loves the player (whether platonically or romantically is up to interpretation). he'd have to love them, to genuinely want to spend however long the ldb has left to take care of them.

it's even more meaningful when you remember that taliesin wants to see the world. by taking care of you, he's most definitely giving that up. and he'd do it in a heartbeat. there's also a matter of how long tally would act as caregiver for. i don't know how old they are but altmer live a fucking long time (i think like... 300 years?), and depending on the race of your ldb, this quote can be that much more meaningful. (it's still super meaningful even if the ldb would die in a year, tbh. tally had basically just gotten the chance to escape the thalmor)

and of course, what does the ldb's insanity look like? no idea. but i can tell you that when people's dementia progress, their personality changes. they can become more irritable, lash out, get violent. now imagine what that's like if you're taking care of the freaking dragonborn instead of someone that's 80+ years old.

not to mention how fucking exhausting caregiving is. i've been only working this job for half a year, part-time and i'm so tired. i also work a little less than 20% of the hours in a week, these people need 24/7 care. the work is insane, and tally is insane for offering to take this on. especially without help.

does taliesin realize how much work it is? would he tap out after a bit? im not sure, but to even offer such a thing in the first place just goes to show how much love he has for the player. and i think that's beautiful

(this was a very long-winded way of saying that taliesin's gesture is genuinely born out of love for the player. i'm also very passionate about the work i do, please feel free to message me if you have any questions about dementia, or just need someone to vent to.)

[bigification]

Corporate

John had coasted through his twenties like he thought everyone did. He got a quick degree in business and spent the next ten years traveling, partying, and fucking... A lot. His parents let him do whatever he wanted as long as he got a degree, they didn't say anything about using the degree.

He excused his behavior because every other rich white guy he partied with was doing the same thing. He had never even had an extended conversation with someone outside of the 1 percent, and it showed.

Hey, I mean at least he was really good at the one thing he did. To the point that he wouldn't remember most nights, only waking up with women's clothes in his bed. He would start swinging his massive dick around as soon as he got drunk and it wouldn't take long for someone to drag him to bed.

But it couldn't last forever. 30 came faster than he thought and it hit him like a truck. He couldn't drink like he used to, he couldn't party as hard as wanted to. His hairline was starting to recede and his six pack was disappearing under what would soon be a small beer belly. There were starting to be consequences for his actions. And as if it couldn't get any worse for poor John, his parents let him know what his birthday present was for this year. Every year prior had been something extravagant like a yacht or a sports car, so he was really looking forward to the big gift to make 30 not seem so bad.

Two weeks before his birthday, John received a text saying that his parents would take away his generous allowance if he didn't get a job by the time he was 30. His heart skipped a beat, he thought it was some big joke. He thought back to the times his parents had asked him to get a job before but he never thought they were serious. Though they did ask a lot now that he's thinking of it, and they didn't sound like they were joking.

John texted back, "haha, but seriously what is it?" Hoping they would back off and he could go back to being the old guy at all the yacht parties he threw. But they put their put down this time, threatening his 200k a month allowance and his present he was expecting for his birthday.

One week of the adult equivalent of kicking and screaming later, John gives in. Now he only has one week before it starts to cut into his allowance. He scrambled to make a shitty resume, assuming a business degree would get him any job he wanted.

He nervously clicked on a link his dad sent him to a company that works under his father's business. He submitted his resume and waited. It didn't take long for him to get a response and John patted himself on the back for making such a good resume. Although they obviously never even opened the resume, just going off of his father's recommendation.

He set up an interview for just before his birthday, and continued to party like he was still 20. He woke up the day of the interview, hungover and still wearing his disgusting clothes from the night before. He was nearly falling asleep at the wheel as he hadn't woken up before noon in ages, 10 am was such a ridiculous time to set an interview.

He stumbled into the expensive looking building and stood in front of reception.

"How can I help you?" The young lady behind the counter asked.

"Ugh... Yeah I could think of a few ways you could help me." John winked and gave a lazy smile.

"Sir, if you don't have any business here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." The lady raised her voice, trying to hide her discomfort.

"Whatever, I'm here for an interview."

"What's your name?"

"John Fitzgerald."

The lady looked up for a moment, recognizing the name. She shook her head in disappointment as she grabbed the phone to call that he had arrived... only thirty minutes late.

A few moments later, an older man in a tailored suit approached the front desk. He walked right past John and asked the receptionist to point him in the direction of John. The lady looked over at John and raised her eyebrows to suggest he was right there. The older man turned and put on a fake smile to hide his disapproval.

"Follow me." The man put on a cheap up beat voice.

The man walked him down to a private office and opened a closet. He grabbed a dress shirt and black dress pants and basically shoved into John's chest.

"No man that respects himself wears those clothes to an interview, put these on." He let his anger slip through a bit.

"Wait really!?" John seemed perplexed. He thought he would answer a few questions about what he liked to do and that would be it.

"Yes, go on."

John sheepishly took off his shirt, revealing the small belly that had grown over his abs. It even bounced a bit as he pulled off his shirt. He then pulled down his pants to reveal his batman boxers that did nothing hide the massive bulge between his legs.

He slipped on the dress shirt, letting it spill to his knees like a dress. Then he pulled up the dress pants and held them at his waist. They were nearly 10 inches too long around the waist, and 5 inches too short, making them ride up his calves.

"They're too big!" John complained.

The man scoffed and grabbed a belt from the closet. Though the belt was also too big, leaving John still holding up the pants.

"They're still too big!" John whined.

"Oh just shut up. How long is this supposed to take." The old man looked impatiently at his watch.

"How long is wha-" John began to ask before pausing briefly, followed by a loud burp that seemed to make the room tremble.

John tried to talk but couldn't. He felt slow and groggy, more than he had before. The only noises he could muster were grunts as a warm feeling filled his stomach. Suddenly his hips thrusted forward and he let out a grunt. John looked down in horror as a sizable beer belly was now hiding under his oversized shirt. His hips thrusted again and his belly had doubled in size, making him look pregnant. One more thrust and a loud grunt and his fat gut doubled in size once more. It bounced up and down as it filled all the room in his massive shirt, finally drooping over his waistband.

John wanted to scream, but he couldn't. The only noises that came from his mouth were moans and grunts that sounded more and more sexual the more his body changed.

His sides soon followed, growing thick love handles that widened his once skinny frame, even spreading to his lower back. His chest puffed forward as his pecs disappeared under a thick layer of fat. His soft man tits finally rested on his gut, pushing up against his shirt and making them impossible to miss.

John looked up in desperation at the older man that stood before him, but he was just staring at his watch. Though he noticed something strange. He was looking up at the man, when he could have sworn that he looked down on him when he first met him. He took pride in his height, so he would have remembered being shorter than him.

This time his body thrusted backwards, making him nearly fall with his new center of gravity. With each thrust he felt the pants get tighter and tighter until his cheeks filled out all of the room in those size 42 pants. At least he didn't have to hold them up anymore. His thighs then thickened into fat tree trunks, permanently rubbing together and squishing his dick in between. Though that last part wouldn't last long, while his ever growing fat pad swallowed inches of his dick, it began to shrink as well. He felt it recede into his soft fat pad, now only having the tip peaking out of his fat. He stuffed his hand between his meaty thighs to try and find it but it wasn't there.

John then felt pressure building up around his feet until a loud POP rang through the office. He looked down to see what happened but it was blocked by his massive gut. Though the feeling of his bare feet on the ground suggested that his feet burst out of his shoes.

His arms began to twitch fat filled them like sausages, making them drop under their own weight. His hands also doubled in size as his fingers started to look thickened. He wanted to react, but it was starting to get hard to remember what he was texting to. All he could think about was finance.

Finally his face began to change. His young and spy look got covered in soft fat and wrinkles, aging him up at least 10 years. His hairline receded as thick sideburns covered his nonexistent jawline and his stubble formed a prominent mustache and goatee combo.

John let out a loud burp as his stomach grumbled. He grunted a few more times as he desperately tried to reach his crotch, but he was unsuccessful. He noticed his boss in front of him and tilted his head back to make eye contact with the man that is now much taller than him.

"What are we doing in your office boss?" John asked.

"Oh, you just had a wardrobe malfunction that's all." The boss said as he passed John a pair of shoes and a tie. "It's on the house since you've been such a good employee the last 10 years. I certainly don't mind getting you bigger clothes when you outgrow your current ones."

John panted and grunted trying to get his shoes on, he wasn't used to the extra padding all over his body. Despite that, he knows that he has been quite fat for many years now as memories of the last 10 years of his life flood in.

"Can't forget the wedding ring." The boss said as he slipped a nice ring into John's hand. "I just love that husband of yours, he is such a great cook. No wonder you gained so much weight after your marriage. It's almost like he got you pregnant." The boss chuckled.

John's face went blank as the memories of him coming out in his thirties and marrying the man that he loves. And he remembers the positive pregnancy test he had just before his 40th birthday.

"Oh my god, you are pregnant!" The boss shouted then covered his mouth. "Your secret's safe with me. Oh and also, I'll order some massive clothes for ya so you won't have to worry about it big guy." The boss said quietly as John left his office.

[diremoone]

4 am | f. toji

w — non-curses! au, periods, mentions of blood and severe cramps and everything that goes with having a period haha. this is short sorry; this is total flop material but I need it outta my drafts 🤣

a/n: it’s that time of the month again lmaoo. I’ve had this in my drafts for two months. i need to make a masterlist for all my period-comfort fics now 😂

[ divider credit to @/firefly-graphics ]

You’re already out of the bedroom and probably downstairs by the time Toji’s able to blink the blurriness from his vision. You turn from one side to the other, then just shoot up out of bed — that’s what initially wakes the man — before disappearing.

Toji’s eyes turn to the door, then to the clock, 4 in the damn morning. He then looks to the ceiling as he groans and lifts himself up. Holy fuck I don’t want to be awake, he thinks. But you’re awake, and he doesn’t like the way you left the room because he knows something isn’t right with you.

Toji blinks a few times and shakes his head free of sleep (as much as he can anyway). It’s a slow trek to the living room, but once he gets there, he sighs. You’re sitting on the floor, legs curled up to you as your upper half rests against the couch. You don’t raise your head from your arms on the cushion as he sighs.

“I’d ask if you were okay,” he says, “but you clearly don’t look it.”

“Mmmnnnn, nope,” you mumble. He’s just barely able to hear it. “Feel like a tired, smoldering pile of shit.”

Toji almost laughs. He coughs behind his hand, enough to tell you he was holding back laughter.

“Come on,” he then sighs. “At least lay on the couch. You’re not helping your back.”

“I’d rather have a stiff back than these cramps. Fuck off.”

He snorts. He leaves you be, only to return a few moments later with a heating pad, some crackers, and a bottle of water. You almost say ‘thank you’… until he turns around and walks back into the kitchen.

“Ass…” you mumble.

You close your eyes and climb up onto the couch and curl up against the armrest. You hear Toji in the kitchen, glass, metal, plastic, and pans clinking all together as he worked on whatever he was working on. As curious as you were, you didn’t want to bother him. You weren’t even sure you had the energy to hold conversation.

You assume twenty minutes pass. You almost begin to doze off when Toji’s deep voice speaks to you and wakes you up. You blink in surprise, then are surprised even more when you see what is on the coffee table: pancakes and sausages, lemonade in a tall glass.

“It’s what I know will help,” he says. The man sits on the ground and pats his leg. “Come here.”

You gaze down at him tiredly, a small fatigued but happy smile on your lips. You settle into his lap, and as his warmth hits your back and hot hands over the front of your tummy where your uterus would be, you moan loudly as relief settles over your body.

Toji, however, let’s a frown cover his face at the feeling of all of your tension leaving your body, finally relaxing against his own. He almost cusses in shock, but bites his tongue as you begin to slowly eat the pancakes and sausage he’s made for you.

You won’t eat it all, he knows this. You lose your appetite whenever your personal monthly hell rolls around. But—

“Thank you, Toji.”

—whatever he can do to make you feel better, especially with the newfound realization of how much tension your period can cause, he’ll do it without hesitation.

(Just don’t confront him directly or try to tease him about it, unless you want him to ban you from his kisses and/or cuddles.)

[runningfrom2am]

omg you should totally write a blurb (or maybe a whole oneshot, it's up to you) about drew being the absolute SWEETEST when you're sick. Like he makes sure every need of yours is catered you, that all the things you may need are kept on your bedside table at ALL TIMES, makes sure you have your comfort plushie with you IT WOULD BE SO CUTE

You can also write this for soft!rafe! Whatever you write, I know it will be soooo good <3 <3

YUP YUP YUP CORRECT I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS

idk this is just the vibe i get from him like for real,, but also soft!rafe i think would be very similar, especially with not knowing what the correct meds were and dragging you back to bed haha. anyway! enjoy!! i loved writing this sm omg-

send me other requests here !!!

you don't get sick often, but when you do? it's a whole event. growing up you'd always handled it yourself, rarely ever spending the day in bed and truly resting, letting something like a silly cold or flu stop you from getting things done. that changed when you started dating drew.

it's only happened once or twice since you've been together, but after the first time when he practically shoved you into bed, running to your side and carrying you back to the bed or your couch every time you got up for something and insisting he would do it for you, you started to succumb to your fate. it was very comforting, after all, the change of pace that was having someone who wanted to take care of you.

most of the time, honestly, he would know you were sick before you did, and you'd wake up to you having kicked your blankets off and his hand on your forehead, frowning down at you as your eyes flutter open. "you're sick." he would mutter, planting a kiss on your forehead as he moved his hand and quickly getting up.

he would disappear and return a few minutes later with your favourite water bottle and a cold, damp cloth, and an armful of every medication he could find in your bathroom cabinets.

you fell into a nice, stable routine when you were sick, in which you laid in bed and rested, whether that be playing video games or watching tv, or on particularly bad days just laying in the dark and regretting not eating more oranges while your head pounded. all you needed to do if you needed anything at all was text him, assuming he wasn't already at your side, and he would appear within moments. your favourite summoning message was 'help!', which you would type out and hit send, and listen with a smile for you to hear a chair scraping or shuffling followed by hurried footsteps approaching your room. "what do you need, love?" he would ask, standing in the doorframe incase what you needed was in the kitchen or the bathroom, he would be able to get it faster that way. no matter what your request was, you would have it in a matter of minutes, at the very latest.

occasionally, if you were feeling well enough to get up and stretch your legs and go to the kitchen for your own water bottle refill, you wondered how he could even hear you when he seemingly apparated to your side immediately. "you should be in bed! go back to bed, i'll get it." he'd usher you away, or sometimes (if he knew a headache wasn't your affliction, which would only get worse by being thrown around), he'd pick you up and carry you back to bed himself.

on days where he couldn't stay home to dote on your every need, he would shove your favourite childhood stuffie into the top of your shirt like it was a baby carrier, insisting that they take care of you while he's away. (but of course, if you hit him with the 'help!' text, he'd ditch whatever work he’s doing in a minute to be there for you, even if that meant rescheduling a shoot or a table reading to get home)

he'd always tuck in you and your stuffie of choice before he ever had to leave the room, and would come back every twenty minutes if he knew you were asleep to make sure the blanket was still covering you in hopes of making your fever break, but also not wanting you to get cold, even in your sleep. he'd run you twelve baths in a day if you asked, sometimes just running you one and then asking if you wanted to get in. which of course, rarely would you ever say no to a bath. and god forbid you run out of your favourite tea, all the windows in your kitchen would be perpetually foggy from him boiling and reboiling so much water for you.

he’d put on your favourite show and movies, and watch them repeatedly with you if you wanted. he’d apologize endlessly for turning on the bedroom light if you had a migraine, also apologizing through the whole noisy process of taping tinfoil over the window to keep both the heat and the light out. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, love, i’m almost done. i promise.” he didn’t want to disturb you, and felt so guilty when he had to to make sure you took your medicine or were staying hydrated.

when you tell him you’re feeling better, he’s always skeptical. he never believes you at first, continuing to insist that you “sleep it off” for at least a day before he lets you rejoin society in any meaningful way, and you are yet to decide whether or not it’s because he just really likes doting on you.

bonus: checking your temperature by pressing his lips to your forehead!!!

[ya-what--ya-erster]

Goodbye Don't Last Forever

Javey. Kind of funny ngl. Enjoy.

David Jacobs was eighteen and newly graduated when his girlfriend, Francis Sullivan, left for Santa Fe, leaving no goodbye and no way to contact her.

David went crazy when she left. He loved her and she left without a word to him. He made some stupid (but not too regrettable) decisions in the time after. Dyed his dirty blonde hair a dark shade of brown. Started wearing his glasses again. Went outside only when required (as in almost never). Stopped talking to many of his friends.

Only two of the habits died, and fortunately it was those last two. He found himself to be pretty fine within a few months of her being gone.

Six years later, David Jacobs was 24 years old and getting a new roommate.

"Hi, are you David?" A confident voice came from behind him.

He turned to face- woah he's hot- the person asking the question.

"Yeah, yes, that's me. David Jacobs. Hi."

The man smiled and held out a hand to shake.

"Jack Kelly."

Those eyes... that handshake. So familiar. But the familiarity was out of reach in David's mind.

So he stood up a little straighter, smiled back, and said, "Nice to meet you in person finally. I mean I trusted Albert enough to not find me a serial killer roommate but... I feel very assured now, haha..."

"I won't kill ya, Davey."

Davey...

"Good to know. Same here. Do you need help taking anything up?"

Jack shook his head. "All I's got is this." He nodded to a moderately sized suitcase that he was gripping.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't-"

"It's nothing, Dave. I just had to leave kinda quickly and didn't have much anyways."

"Well, uh. Let me uh... I guess, follow me?"

...

David was down bad for his roommate. And, down bad as in like, Taylor Swift "if I can't have him/I might just die it would make no difference."

Something about him, Jack, felt so familiar in all the most wonderful ways. His smile was a smile David felt like he had seen dozens of times.

David wanted to know why. He wanted to know why this boy felt so natural in the environment. Why he seemed to be the missing piece in David's life.

He was going to find out.

Not today though, he decided, when Jack entered the apartment looking like he was about to burst into tears.

"Hey, are you okay?" David asked slowly.

Jack nodded stiffly, putting his head down and throwing his bag and coat to the floor.

"Jack, you look sad."

"I'm fine."

"Jack."

"I ain't- you don't gotta be all in my business." Jack was heading to his tiny bedroom, so David grabbed his arm to stop him.

"You can tell me, you know?"

Jack leaned forward, hugging David, beginning to cry.

"Woah, hey. Hey, it's alright, let it out..." David wished Jack would hug him more often, and not while crying.

Jack continued to cry for maybe three minutes, David didn't know exactly. What David did know is that when Jack made eye contact with him, he looked like he had done something horrible.

"I ain't a real boy, Dave."

David's heart could have shattered just then, hearing Jack sound so broken.

"What do you mean, you aren't a real boy?"

"I wasn't- I'm not- I am a boy. I know and promise that I am but I just- wasn't born that way and I feel like a fraud and I get sad sometimes."

"That's okay to be sad, Jack. But you're a boy, I know you are. If you say you're a boy, you're a boy. No, how old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"Okay, Jack Kelly, you are no boy, you're a freakin' man."

Jack smiled a little, wiping his eyes dry.

"Thank ya, Davey."

...

David was having none of this "stay up until 3 AM painting" bullshit.

"Jack Kelly, you will start going to bed at a decent time or so help me-"

"I'm fine, Dave!" Jack defended himself.

"You drank four coffees today and three energy drinks. I don't even know how you're still alive!"

"Fine, fine. I will be in bed no later than midnight."

"Is that the best I'm gonna get?"

"Yup."

David sighed, deciding to give in.

"At least show me what you've been working on into the ungodly hours of the night?"

"Maybe someday." Jack smiled mysteriously and disappeared once again into his room.

David was not staring at his fine ass as he retreated. He wasn't.

...

"Davey, do you got any food?"

David was regretting getting a roommate but also enjoyed having someone around. He didn't appreciate having to buy random shit every other week because Jack had a craving and pretty much no money. (He spent his money on rent and art supplies, which David didn't mind because his apartment was cheaper and Jack's art was amazing.)

"We have fruit snacks and spaghetti-o's if that qualifies as food. We might also have a banana."

Jack strolled into the kitchen area after David's previous statement and pulled out a packet of fruit snacks, a can of spaghetti-o's, and the blender.

"What the fuck are you doing?" David asked, shocked and amused all at once.

"I'm making me some dinner, you want some?"

"Jack, there is no way in Hell you are going to eat- drink spaghetti-o's and fruit snacks put through the blender. It's gonna be terrible."

"Actually, no it isn't. My old friend dared me to do it and it actually tastes good."

David had a brief memory flash through his mind.

"Francis! I dare you to put the two most different things you can think of in the blender and then drink it." Race shouted.

"Okay, I'll do it." Francis smiled that daredevil smile of hers and got started. Spaghetti-o's and fruit snacks.

When it was complete, Francis took a long drink.

"Wow. That's actually not terrible."

"Davey, you good?"

David nodded. "Sorry, just. You just reminded me of something."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Ex-girlfriend."

"Thought you said you're gay?"

"She kind of helped me out on discovering that."

"Well. That's nice of her. How so?"

"Uh. It's a long story."

"I bet I can handle it. Besides, I have an abomination to drink. I'll listen."

"Oh. Okay. Well. Basically, she decided she was going to Santa Fe and wasn't going to, you know, say goodbye to me or anyone. And I spent a long time angry and then realized I didn't really miss her romantically at all and just was pissed, and then me and my friend Albert accidentally fucked when we were drunk and I was like 'wow that's allowed?' and anyways uh Al and I aren't and weren't interested in each other at all, we were just drunk like I said, but then it all made sense why I wasn't like, sad over the 'love of my life' leaving because it was just a high school girlfriend and I'm not even into girls. So I'm not even mad at her anymore really I'm just gay and confused and I've talked a lot now sorry."

David looked up at Jack for a reaction. He was wearing this face... David could not name the emotion.

"What was her name?"

Huh. Weird question.

"Why?"

"Well, I was just wonderin' if maybe I met her, since I's come here from Santa Fe and all."

"Oh. Yeah, uh. Her name's Francis Sullivan."

"Have a picture?"

"Yeah, one sec." David scrolled through his phone's camera roll until he found her. "Here."

The picture made Jack frown, and David kind of would have done anything to make him smile again.

"You know her?" David asked.

"Yeah, uh. I knew her."

David's heart sped up.

"Really? Is she doing okay? Is she alright? Do you know where she lives, cause I might need to go-"

"Davey. Stop."

"What?"

"You can't exactly go visit her."

"Why not?"

Jack seemed to be looking inside himself instead of at David when he spoke.

"She was... the real depressed type, Dave. Always sad. She never smiled, I don't think. She was in a real bad state of mind."

"What're you-"

"She ain't alive no more."

Everything stopped in David's head.

"What?"

"I'm real sorry, Dave. She just ain't... But I'm here."

"What's that supposed to mean? 'You're here?'"

Jack hesitated before opening his mouth. "She didn't exactly... die the way you're thinking. She, uh. She just... more... changed? She ain't Francis anymore. She cut her hair and went on T and got top surgery and goes by a boy's name now, and he/him. So, uh, tellin' ya she died was probably not the brightest idea but that was an in-the-moment decision."

"Good for him. What does that have to do with you being here?"

Jack made absolute eye contact with David, wondering how he could be so fucking stupid, and held it. Held it as he crossed the room and held it up until the moment he pulled David into a hug.

"I'm sorry for leavin' you. I just had ta get away."

David jerked away from Jack in a quick movement.

"You? You're... You- I can't-" David's brain was moving too quickly and all he could think to do was punch Jack in the face as hard as humanly possible.

Which he did.

"Son of a bitch- Dave! I only told ya cause I thought you said ya weren't mad anymore!"

"Yeah, well. Now I am, asshole. You... You deep friend burnt-ass dino nugget dickhead. You absolute.... I can't even. How dare you? I fucking loved you, yes even if I'm gay now, and you, you just ran the fuck off and never bothered contacting me for six years. I would have understood if you needed to leave, needed to leave me, needed... whatever. I would have given you your space. I hate you."

Jack looked hurt. It made David feel good. All that pain he went through and it was being passed on.

"Davey-"

"David."

"Right, sorry. David. I'm really sorry. I don't- I never meant ta hurt you. To be honest, I thought you'd be glad if I left and never came back."

David felt less good.

"I just- I wanted to feel like I could be free. It didn't really... go as planned. Because I just realized I wanted to come back. Mostly for you."

David didn't stop to think. David just kissed Jack like he was hungry for it.

"I fucking hate you." He said, pulling away.

"No you don't."

"Don't test your luck."

A small moment of touching silence passed.

"So..." Jack started. "You slept with Al?"

"Now I actually do hate you. Get out, I'm calling him. Maybe he'll be nice to me."

"Davey... I love you. I always did."

"I'm... good to know. I can't- I'm still mad, bitch."

Jack just laughed, and he knew right then that it would all be fine.

A/N: hope y'all liked it :) It'll be on ao3 asap

[yoonzinuhh]

RUN TO YOU

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : reader x seungcheol,reader x mingyu (NOT A POLY !)

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : office au. boss x worker,co workers,fluff,smut,comfort,hurt,angst.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : few curse words. mentions about past sex (no actual smut scenes) that’s it.

𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 : this is purely fiction. i have no intentions in sexualising any artist. just for entertainment purposes. let me know if you want to be tagged !

series list , episode1 , episode3

episode2.

you’re fucked. its just the first day and you’re already running late because you wanted to fuck some random hot guy. and you messing up the train hasn’t helped you at all.

but damn here you are standing infront of this building that has god knows how many floors,shining through your eyes just like it did 7 years ago. this was your dream company. you worked so hard in college and internships so you could finally work under this brand business. and to think that you kinda messed up your first day..well it’s fine you’re just late by what..5 minutes OH FUCK 15 MINUTES ALREADY.

“good morning. where’s the meeting for freshers being conducted ?”

“good morning to you too. its in the 8th floor. you’ll have a board directing you. have a good day,all the best” says the receptionist with the hugest smile.

it’s all the little things that could actually make you feel positive the whole day.

well well well you feel your body heat up with anxiety when you see the room already filled with people and the meeting has already started.

trying to get inside with no traces of entering “OUH” here we go,you just got your pinky toe hit by one of the chairs. being twenty four and nothing could change your clumsiness,truly.

“i’m sorry haha” you respond to all the eyes that’s on you silently sitting next to someone.

“hi” he whispers. you just nod because you can’t afford to have your name called out right after what you did.

“i’m mingyu !” he whispers again glancing at your direction.

“y/n” you just smile and nod once again. the speech started again distracting you both.

“that’s all the information you all would need. the teams would be split based on the department with one senior head. hopefully you guys would enjoy your job. feel free to contact us anytime.” oh she’s done.

having your little convo with mingyu,who is apparently in the same business field as you,your ceo comes by reading your name tags.

“good luck to both of you for getting into the business team in such a young age.” she says with an elegant smile.

“you both will be assisted by your head,my son- just a minute- SEUNGCHEOL !!” she turns back and waves at a guy..oh god..OH GOD.

your eye’s physically widens. throat drying. you’re about to cry. no way..no way you just fucked your ceo’s son the night before..didn’t you..

his eyes meets yours and you see his widen too after seeing you. you just divert looking away.

“keep talking to them sweetie,i’ll go and meet up with the next team” she smiles at the three of you and walks away.

“sooo hi to mingyu aanddd y/n who was late on her first day of work..because?” you’re fucked up,again.

you just awkwardly smile at him because WHO WOULD’VE EVER THOUGHT.

smirking he just leads you both to your work space,talking about what you’ll be doing,about work and all that. you could feel his stare on the corridors,the lift,the working area,the EVERYWHERE.

well who would’ve thought your first day would be this way.

“so this is where we will be working. you can find all the files inside the lockers on floor 3. i’ll be on and off so you can just contact me through the official number. for now i’m leaving.” he winks at you and you just look down at the speed of a thunder. oof atleast he’s gone.

“what’s with you and mr.choi ?”

whipping your head at mingyu’s direction you just freeze because..yeah..no.

“nothing. i’m just anxious i think.”

“cool. anyways can i have your number??”

“HUH”

“what ! we’re going to work together until how many ever years we’ll need it come on.”

“uh yeah right haha” at this point you’re just fake laughing at anything and everything because you still can’t process what happened the whole day.

to be honest everything else about this day was good. the office was amazing,just like you thought. you were going to work under something that you loved,fashion.

you loved fashion business and your parents were terribly against it. but god you fought. fought so bad to be here. to do something you love.

and mingyu was a good guy too. he was talkative,a good company and you were satisfied of everything except one. seungcheol.

tags : @thepoopdokyeomtouched @leah-rose03 @wonwootakemyheart @aaniag @fragmentof-indifference

[variety-fangirl]

Okay, I can't believe I've found someone who still writes actively for Jimmy Keene 🥺🫶 So I'd like to ask something like Jimmy falling for the nurse who is taking care of his father at hospital (feel free to choose the reason).

I was thinking in something like jimmy being an asshole with the doctors and nurses because he is stressed and worried about his father and, seeing that the reader is the only one who doesn't give in to his anger, he begins to see her in a different way.

Thanks in advance for considering my request. You slayy 🫶🩷

Nurse / Jimmy Keene x fem!reader

Summary: you are a nurse working your normal day shift at the hospital and treating your patients as you would any other day. Until you get requested by one of your fellow colleagues to take over their patient's case because of the difficult son.

Warnings: swearing, angry/stressed Jimmy, mean Jimmy (he's not really mean, lil worried sweetheart), talk of heart attack, cancer, medication and medical care.

Authors note: aww thank you 😁 I'm quite honoured to be one of the few who write for Jimmy tbf. Helps me to stand out a little ☺️ Oh 🥺 I love this idea! This is cute actually. Thank you for requesting and reading my stuff, it means the world to me! Yes queen, you slay too 😘🥰 Thank you for reading, please enjoy. Liking, reblogging, and commenting really helps me out.

P.s. I'm not a nurse so if details are wrong or inaccurate, don't sue me lol. Just go along with it haha.

Word count: 2.9k

"Okay, Dorothy, you are discharged, signed, and all set to leave finally!" You happily inform one of your patients that you had been caring for for about a week. She had come in for a Mastectomy, but there had been issues, and she had stayed a few days longer than planned. She had her surgery yesterday and was now finally going home cancer-free. Dorothy is a sweet 58-year-old lady whom you have cared for repeatedly over the years for various health reasons. She was always an absolute delight to look after and provide care for. You'd developed a slight soft spot for her. Even though that wasn't typically allowed, you kept your emotions in check, mostly with your patients.

"Oh, thank goodness, I can't wait to go and sleep this off in my own bed finally. Thank you so much for taking care of me again, sweetheart." Dorothy's cold, wrinkled but gentle and soft hand clasped yours with the strength she could muster. She was still a bit groggy from the high dosage of painkillers you had prescribed her for the pain. Her husband, Gordon, smiled and thanked you with a tender hand on your shoulder before pushing his wife's wheelchair out of the hospital room. You smile sweetly, "It was my absolute pleasure. It always is. Now, you both take care. I don't want to see either of you back here for a while, okay?" You teased with half seriousness.

"Hopefully not, dear!" Gordon calls with a chuckle as they both wave before leaving down the corridor to the elevators. You smile and fill in Dorothy's chart about her discharge. It took you about twenty minutes before you handed it back to reception. You were hoping to take your lunch break. It was about the time for you to take one. But luck was not on your side because no more than five minutes later, as you reached the break room, your colleague Jillian stopped you with pleading eyes. You grimace, "What's wrong?" you ask with an unhappy tone.

"I will do anything, anything, if you can please take over Nigel for the afternoon. He's-" she pauses and sighs, obviously exhausted. It had been a long day for you all. Nigel was hard work for everyone but you for some reason. Maybe it was your sternness and no-messing attitude that got him to behave, or maybe he just had a soft spot for you. You weren't sure, but he was good as gold for you. You sigh, "refusing to take his meds again?" You question. This was a recurring theme with Mr. Nigel. He had a habit of throwing tantrums and refusing to take his blood pressure meds. So most would come to you for help, knowing he would listen to you. She nods, "he's asking for you and will apparently only take his meds if you give them to him. He says he only trusts you."

You groan, rubbing your forehead with your fingers. You could feel an oncoming migraine forming, oh how fun. You held your hand out, "Okay." You huffed with a sigh, exasperated from your already too-long shift. You loved your job, but sometimes you were beyond exhausted with some of the patients you had to care for. Jillian squeals happily, "Thank you, thank you! You are a lifesaver." she thanks gratefully as she passes you his medication, a now bright smile on her tired but still beautiful face. You take a moment to yourself, taking a deep breath in and out before making your way to Nigel's room.

Nigel was one of your regulars at the hospital. He was back and forth constantly for different reasons and always ended up staying longer than planned. On this occasion, he had surgery on his leg because of an infection. He took regular medication for asthma and his heart, but the old bastard was stubborn at taking them. His wife had always been the one to remind him, but since she died a year ago, he's been awful about taking them. You knock on his door and wait patiently, receiving a very rude 'fuck off' before deciding to just enter anyway.

"Now Nigel, is that any way to treat your favourite nurse?" You kid, walking further into the room until you reach his bedside where the water jug is located. You pour some water into a small cup as he speaks, "I didn't realise it was you, I'm sorry. I'm glad they finally got you as I requested." he grumbles, obviously displeased but not with you. You turn with the water and pills in hand, "Meds, please." he grabs them from you instantly and takes them without fuss. You secretly roll your eyes at his tantrum, "And you know I can't always be here to look after you, Nigel." You tut as you adjust the pillow behind his head and back to be more comfortable for him and pull his blanket back up to his chest the way he likes. He pats the hand on his chest kindly, "I know, but they don't look after me the way you do. You're special." You smile as you check his IV.

"Well, thank you." You nod and check the now-empty paper cup, "finished?" you ask, referring to the water. He nods, passing the cup back to you where you refill it and place it on his bedside in case he wants some later. You check over his chart as well whilst there to make sure everything is in order and fill in the necessary information about what you've done. "Right, you are all set. I will come back and check on you later. Is there anything you need?" You ask with a smile. The grey balding 65-year-old shakes his head with a returning smile, "Nope. I'm good." You nod with a chuckle, preparing to leave the room, "Okay, I'll see you later."

You spend the next few hours of your shift doing rounds, checking on patients, sorting out medication, filling in charts, and the usual tasks you would normally do. By that point, you only had 30 minutes left of your shift. It was 7 PM. You'd always done 12 hours, so you couldn't wait to go home, take a hot shower, and get into your nice clean bed to sleep. You were exhausted and hungry. You were contemplating what to grab on the way home to eat because you were far too exhausted to cook tonight when another of your colleagues, Gloria, came over with a guilty look on her face. You glare at her, "No."

"Please, y/n, I am begging you to help," she begs with pleading eyes. She genuinely looks like she is going to cry. "No, I have twenty-five minutes left before I clock out, and I already took on one patient more than my own today as is." You close the last chart of the day and hand it back to reception, now finally finished for the day. "I'll give you $20?" she bribes, holding your shoulders with a grip of plea. You sigh, "Fine! You owe me so badly! Fill me in on the patient and the issue as we go to their room, lead the way." You indicate to in front of you for her to go first. She nods and starts filling you in.

"The patient is James Keene, who prefers to be called Big Jim. Sixty years of age and came in for a mild heart attack. Started the necessary treatment, but there's difficulty with his check-up." She winces, leading you down the hallway slowly. "So what do you need me for then?" You question confused, not understanding what the issue is. She sighs, "The son is the issue. He's making treatment difficult and is freaking out on all the nurses." You turn to her with a raised eyebrow. "I know! But trust me, you'll understand when you meet him. Right, here he is, room 305. Thank you!" She scoots off back down the hallway without another word, leaving you with the difficult family member.

You roll your eyes, tuck the chart under your arm, and knock on the door. A gruff but kind 'come in' voiced for you to enter, the annoyance immediately gone, and a smile replaced on your face. "Hello, Mr. Keene! I'm the new nurse who will be taking care of you during your time with us. I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you." You walk to the left side of his bed as the son is on the right and place the chart at the end of his bed before taking his side. The son with an eye roll scoffs, "Great. Another fucking nurse." His arms are folded defensively over his chest and his body language suggests he is not happy. "Jimmy!" James scolds unhappily, a frown on his face. "Well sir, the other nurses were not pleased with your attitude towards them and unco-operation in their trying to help your father. So I was asked to take over." He squints his eyes but says nothing further for the moment.

"I'm just going to take your blood pressure, is that alright?" You ask sweetly with a smile, James nods with a smile. You go to take his arm when Jimmy growls, "Be careful, for god sake! He's hurt." You give him a blunt look, "Sir, I did go to medical school for a number of years to train to be a nurse. I know what I'm doing." Your tone left no room for argument as you took James' arm carefully and gently as you originally intended to. You took his blood pressure, monitored his heart rate, and checked what was necessary, all with Jimmy making snide comments or yelling at you whilst you were just trying to help his father. You had enough.

"Okay, Mr. Keene, all done for now. I'm a little concerned about your blood pressure and hydration levels, so I'll get an IV and some medication to sort that out right away for you. The doctor has advised a few days to stay, so we are going to keep you in for observation and granted you improve, then you can go home. I'll be back shortly. Jimmy? May I speak with you outside for a moment, please?" You ask with a tense tone, indicating to the door. He huffs but follows behind you as James thanks you. Jimmy closes the door behind you both and steps to the side so you are both by the wall, out of people's way. You look Jimmy over, noting the tired look on his face, the clear bags under his lovely eyes, and a look of frustration on his face.

"Can I speak plainly?" You question as you look at his face, waiting patiently. He nods stiffly, not meeting your eyes, seeming to favour looking at your neck instead. "Okay, thank you." you pause for a moment, "I understand perfectly how worried you must be for your father and his wellbeing, it's absolutely natural to be frustrated and angry when you want the best care for your loved one. But, your behaviour and attitude with me and my fellow colleagues are unacceptable." His eyes shoot up to look at yours, a look of surprise in his eyes. He goes to open his mouth, but you hold your finger up, "I'm not finished. The other nurses asked for me to take over because they couldn't deal with your difficult behaviour. It made caring for your father hard. I won't tolerate that kind of disrespect when I am just trying to look after your lovely father, so, if you are quite finished?" You ask, as if he's a naughty child being told off for his behaviour.

He clears his throat, a small smirk on his lips. "Absolutely, I apologise for my behaviour. I was in the wrong because I was worried. It won't happen again, ma'am." You smile in return and nod. You appreciate more than anything when someone admits they are in the wrong and apologises for their actions. Nurse no-nonsense strikes again! "Thank you, I appreciate the apology. Right, I'll be back shortly!" You call to Jimmy as you go to sort out Mr. Keene's medication and treatment. Unbeknownst to you, Jimmy stays rooted to the spot, watching you as you walk away with a smile on his face.

By the time you went back in there 30 minutes later, he was a changed man. He was polite and understanding towards you, letting you do your job in peace. You were grateful for it. It made your job so much easier. You made sure Mr. Keene was taken care of, as well as Jimmy, making sure they both had everything they needed for the night before you left.

-

Over the next four days of Mr. Keene, being in the hospital for treatment, you start bonding with Jimmy slowly. After you told him off, he calmed down completely and left you to treat his father without argument. And anytime he did say anything out of line, you would just tell him off straight away, and instead of anger, he would just smirk to himself, not saying anything. You were unsure why, but his smile was so infectious that you would end up smiling back in return. You would try not to, to be professional, but it was damn hard with how gorgeous his smile is. You noticed a complete difference in him. It had been pleasant to have him around, and James was an absolute delight. Despite his condition, he was cracking jokes and smiling non-stop. He is one of your favourite patients to date, although you wouldn't tell the others that. Especially Nigel.

Jimmy had changed his attitude towards everyone at the hospital, so much so that your colleague came up and asked what the hell you'd done. She'd cracked an inappropriate joke about his dick which you both scolded her for and laughed at. You weren't exactly sure what you'd done, again. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't take his bullshit and called him out on it. Maybe he liked you. You weren't sure, but you were glad for it anyway. And you were very aware that, like Nigel, Jimmy refused any other nurse to care for his father whilst he was here. Claiming you were "understanding and gentle" with his father's care. You didn't mind anyway.

By the time James was discharged from the hospital, you were honestly a little sad. You'd definitely miss seeing them both around here, James kept the job interesting. Which you were so appreciative of, the job could often feel a little samey at times. So, having interesting patiently made it all worthwhile. You had been extremely busy that day and had honestly expected Jimmy to kick off, maybe even just a little because of how long it was taking, but he didn't say a word.

"I am so sorry for the wait, Mr. Keene, we are down three nurses today, so we are a little understaffed and very busy. You are all set to go, discharge papers are done, and you have everything, yes?" You didn't want poor James to forget any of his belongings here. James nodded with a smile, "All set, thank you." he shook your hand firmly before making his way towards the elevators, but Jimmy stayed behind. You hadn't even noticed until you turned around and noticed him standing directly behind you.

You gasp quietly in shock, your faces mere inches apart. You both stare at one another for a few moments, seeming to admire one another with the same intensity. You unintentionally look at his lips, your eyes lingering on the pink plump and kissable lips as his tongue dips out his mouth and licks along his bottom lip. You clear your throat and take a step back, putting some professional distance between you both before someone sees and questions you. "Your number?" You shake your head and look up at him, considering how very tall he is, with a questioning look. "I'm sorry?" you ask, shocked, eyes wide.

He smirks, knowing that you were too busy ogling him to hear a single word that he had just said. "I asked if I could have your number to set up a date." He replies cooly, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest so that his muscles were bulging through his cotton long-sleeved shirt. You smile, although you try to hide it but fail miserably, "Mr. Keene, that is against hospital policy, no fraternising with patients." You try to say it sternly, but it just comes out teasingly.

He smirks knowingly, "Good thing I'm not a patient then. So, your number, gorgeous?" he leans in slightly closer, his eyes staring deeply into yours with lustful intensity. You scoff with a laugh but pull out your notepad and pen regardless. How could you say no to that charm? You roll your eyes as you pass the piece of paper to him, "8 o'clock this Saturday, I'll text you my address when you text me. Don't be late." You playfully glare as you turn and walk towards reception, needing to clear your head just slightly. His presence was intoxicating to be around. Just as you were about to turn the corner, you heard him quietly say, "I wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart." The smile didn't leave your face for the rest of the day.

[koushisbabie]

UWU I HONESTLY YOUR WORK SO MUCH this is my first time on this app so I don’t really know much about it ! Thank you for putting so much effort in every post ,can I request sugawara x reader (how he would react when you keep biting your lip out of anxiety until it bleed ,cause lately I have been doing it a lot

Sorry because my English is not very good anyway HAVE A GREAT DAY ❤️❤️

Oh my gosh I am so sorry I completely forgot I got this request. Thank you for requesting a fic, and thank you for the compliment, you are so sweet T_T Comments like this give me the motivation to write more and get more creative with my ideas. In saying that, I hope your anxiety and your lip biting has gotten better <3 I don't know if you're still active on here, but I've written a small drabble (it ended up long haha) here for you! I hope you like it <3

‘Yo, Suga!’

Suga’s head appears from behind the precariously stacked wall of books on the library table. ‘Yes?’

‘Geez, isn’t that overdoing it?’ Asahi chuckles, gesturing to the books.

‘Well, I guess so,’ Suga replies, ‘but exams are only a week away.’ He shuffles aside some of the haphazardly strewn books and papers and pens, giving Asahi and Daichi space to sit down.

‘Where’s Yn?’ Daichi asks, peering around.

‘She’s around,’ Suga replies, ‘I think she went to the bathroom…’

‘I’m right here!’ Yn pops their head around the shelves. ‘I’ve been looking for this damn book for twenty minutes now.’

‘Oh yeah, looks like a long read.’

‘Can’t be helped,’ Yn says, sitting down next to Suga. ‘Tuesday’s exam is going to kick my ass if I don’t absorb this entire book.’

‘Take it easy, Yn,’ Daichi says. ‘You look a little tired, have you been sleeping alright?’

Suga glances at Daichi, then at Yn.

‘Well, yeah, kind of,’ Yn replies, nudging Suga’s arm affectionately. ‘Usually after we call.’

‘Which reminds me, I need to send you the link to this video that explains chapter eight in a bit more detail,’ Suga says absentmindedly. ‘It’s forty five minutes long but there’s some good illustrations in it that highlight how complex–’

‘You guys seem busy,’ Asahi interjects politely. ‘We should be heading off, we’ll tell the others that you’re studying this afternoon.’

‘Oh no, it’s okay,’ Yn says, glancing at their phone. ‘I actually forgot I promised I’d be home to receive a package later.’

‘You’re leaving already?’

‘Sorry,’ Yn says, ‘I’ll call you tonight, though? We can go through the last of these notes together!’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Suga replies, squeezing Yn’s hand before turning back to his notes.

Yn hesitates, before gathering their things and disappearing between the aisles of books.

An awkward silence falls between the friends, before Daichi pipes up.

‘Hey, Suga, did you see how red Yn’s lips were?’

Suga looks up from his notes, his pen paused above the paper. ‘You noticed it, too?’

‘It wasn’t subtle…’ Asahi says, quietly. ‘To be honest, I think they had been bleeding.’

‘Bleeding?’ Suga’s face fills with shock. ‘I didn’t realise it was that bad. I thought it was just sunburn.’

Daichi and Asahi share a look.

‘Okay,’ Daichi says sternly. ‘I see what’s going on. You’re too focused on your studying, you’ve neglected Yn. Maybe you should put the books away and spend some quality time with them.’

‘What do you mean?’ Suga asks, a little hurt.

‘Daichi’s right… I think Yn is really stressed. A lot of lip biting is caused by anxiety… I haven’t seen it that bad before, and I’ve known them for years.’

Suga pauses thoughtfully. ‘You’re right. The books could wait.’

‘We just mean–’

‘I have an idea,’ Suga says, grinning. ‘Thank you for slapping some sense into me.’

Yn arrives home sweating and tired, the heavy books in their bag weighing painfully on their back. They abandon the bag in the hallway and head to the bathroom, the light soft against their skin. They peer at their lips, swollen like a blossoming red rose. The urge to bite is strong, the pain satisfying momentarily distracts them from the bubbling anxiety in their belly.

Exams were only a week away but with the high percentage of worth the marks carry, anxiety had been slithering throughout the schools hallways like a giant snake stalking its prey, following students home so they could not find respite, even in their beds.

A knock at the door sounds loud and urgent.

As Yn pulls the door open, Suga almost drops the stack of books in his arms and the bags at his elbows.

‘Oh, Yn!’ Suga grins. ‘Mind if I come in?’

‘Of course,’ Yn says, bewildered. ‘Let me help you.’

In the living room, Yn places the stack of books on the coffee table, wondering how Suga could manage getting through them all with practice almost every afternoon. Despite being as passionate about volleyball as the others, he could somehow find the time to study when he really wants to.

‘So,’ Yn says, falling into the crease of the soft couch, ‘what brought you here?’

Suga glances at them, his mouth in a small frown, the creases between his brows knitted. ‘Look,’ he begins, ‘I have noticed that you’ve been a little… out of sorts, lately.’

Yn frowns, fidgeting in their lap with their fingers.

‘I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re less than beautiful, by the way!’ Suga says quickly, placing his hands on either side of Yn’s face.

Yn’s cheeks begin to flush. ‘What do you mean?’ They squeak.

Suga hesitates. ‘You’re doing it right now –’ Suga pauses, pointing at Yn’s lips, ‘you’re biting your lip too much!’

Yn swallows hard. ‘Oh. I hoped you wouldn’t notice.’

Suga smiles softly. ‘It took me a few moments to really see it.’ He hesitates. ‘I was too focused on studying, when I should have been looking out for you. I’m sorry.’

‘No, it’s okay!’ Yn blushes. ‘You’re here now! And it’s just anxiety, I mean, it’s always there, what can you do?’

‘Well…’ Suga says, turning to the coffee table. ‘I’m not sure if any of this will help, but I wanted to make up for not being one hundred percent there for you when you’re anxious.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘These are just some small gifts,’ Suga says. He opens the thick paper bags, revealing a fluffy blanket, a few lip balms, a small box of tea, a journal, and all of Yn’s favourite snacks. ‘I know it’s not much, and it can’t fix your anxieties completely, BUT I do think that tea will help, and maybe you can journal some of your worries and one of these lip balms is good for deterring lip biting, I think,’ Suga says quickly. ‘And of course, the blanket is for when it gets cooler and we can play games or something, together.’

A comfortable silence fills the room. Yn processes the gesture slowly, their eyes welling, their chest swelling with butterflies.

‘Oh no,’ Suga says, pulling Yn into a hug, pressing them to his chest. ‘I’m sorry, was it too much?’

Yn breathes in his scent, the clean soapy smell mixed with the day’s activities. Familiarity and safety is how Yn would describe Suga and his hugs, the gesture alone could deter them from the worries that plagued their mind.

‘This is too nice,’ Yn murmurs. ‘It’s just a bitten lip, why are you doing so much over that?’

‘Well, I don’t know what’s going on in the background – I’d like to,’ he says quietly. ‘I’d like to sit here and listen to you talk about what’s worrying you, if you’d let me. You never have to, if you aren't comfortable, but I’m always here.’

‘I get it now,’ Yn says, sniffling. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you because I know you’ve been busy too. Exam season gets us all, doesn’t it?’

Suga laughs. ‘It does, but it’s my job to also look after you.’

‘Does it bother you?’ Yn asks quietly. ‘My lips…’

‘Well, it looks a little painful,’ Suga replies. ‘I’d hate for you to endure the pain or get an infection. That’s why I picked up the lip balm specifically for healing lips,’ he says, reading the back of the lip balm.

Yn curls into the crook of Suga’s arm, peering at the lip balm. Suga takes Yn’s chin, and tilts their head upward, gently applying the lip balm to their lips. The cooling sensation spreads over their lips like a lovely cool breeze. ‘It feels pretty good so far, thank you. Thank you for this. I never expect you to do anything for me, but this has made me feel a lot better – just knowing you care. That you’re here for me. Thank you.’

Suga smiles warmly, squeezing Yn against his chest. ‘If none of this helps you feel less anxious, I’ll just have to squish the anxieties out of you!’

‘Well,’ Yn squeaks, ‘I wouldn’t mind the cuddles!’

[this-is-krikkit]

Hey Sunshine 💕

You can't imagine how sorry I am that you lost all these gems you wrote 😭 Fate as deprived us of so many amazing Levihan fics & kisses 🥺 I really hope there's a way to get them back 🤞🍀

Seeing the last prompt list you reblogged (soft fic) I couldn't resist requesting 26 Pyjamas for Levihan or Erurihan because of the headcanons we talked about the other day based on this beautiful fanart 😉

I hope writing something new will cheer you up a bit!

Sending love & hugs 💕🫂

hey Val ♥️ as you know, i did get my wips back!! your good luck wishes seem to have worked haha

thank you for sending me one of these soft prompts. inspiration took a while to come for this one, but then i stumbled upon this post:

and i knew i had your fic. hope you enjoy! ♥️

The Momentum Principle (read on ao3)

Words: 2566 Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman & Nanaba & Erwin Smith & Mike Zacharias & Hange Zoë Characters: Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, Mike Zacharias, Nanaba (Shingeki no Kyojin) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friends, Unrequited Crush, Canon Non-Binary Character, They/Them Pronouns for Hange Zoë, SNK Veterans - Freeform, and they were ROOMMATES, (oh my god they were roommates), no beta we die like that vine ref SIKE IT'LL NEVER DIE, pretentious titling because that's how i roll

Summary: Studies show that staying awake for over twenty-four hours has similar effects on the human brain as having a bloodstream concentration of alcohol way over legal limits. Biology major Hange Zoë is aware of that fact. Sadly, they’re also aware that there are finals to pass, and not enough hours in a day to study for them.

Hange frowned at the page before their eyes and clicked the table lamp off and back on, ignoring the annoyed stares the repeated and ineffective gesture got them from the students around –served them all right anyway, they mused, when they’d all been regularly stealing Hange glances they didn’t even bother to try and make discreet all morning. But something other than being ogled at like a circus freak was making it hard to decipher the words in front of them, though they couldn’t put their finger on what exactly. The world around them had been seeming especially bleak lately and even more so today, which wasn’t unusual during the intense studying marathons they famously put themself through with finals drawing near, but they couldn’t recall a time where it had actually impacted their already damaged eyesight; and the persistent, pulsing ache tracing along their temples sure wasn’t helping.

The most rational part of their brain offered stress and weariness as culprits, and Hange had to admit they couldn’t easily dismiss either of those. The cramming schedule they’d been imposing on themself may have gotten a little out of hand in the last couple of weeks, so much so Hange couldn’t even remember the last time they’d set foot in the living room to share homemade dinners or play board games with their four roommates like they usually would during cold winter evenings. They hadn’t even partook in early morning idle chitchat or occasional evening drinks on their way home from the campus library, not when they’d been consistently arriving right on opening time –they’d been pulling all nighters more often than not, anyway, and felt too restless to stay home and wait for the others to get ready– and had become the last student to leave it at night.

Hange closed their eyes for a minute as they let their head fall forward, rolling their neck and shoulders and relishing in the satisfying crack their muscles and tendons sighed out at the stretch. If only their brain could gain knowledge through osmosis via that simple contact between their forehead and over-highlighted textbook; if information were to be solutes, then, considering how little they’d efficiently memorized lately, it would flow right inside their lowly concentrated head without a doubt. They smiled at that absurd reflection, giddy with the realization that hey, they’d apparently managed to remember some things from those hellish Introduction to Fluid Mechanics lectures.

That unexpected sense of comfort was short lived, however, when they were hit with a wave of the increasingly familiar nausea their self inflicted sleep deprivation never failed to bring. Hange opened their eyes to fight the dizziness and took deep breathes in and out, silently counting up the right inhale to exhale ratio –simultaneously urging their body to hold up for a little while longer.

Two weeks, they pleaded. Just two more weeks and I can take a break.

Seven long sleepless days and nights of tensed cramming, followed by a week of nerve-wracking and hopefully mostly accurate square ticking in reply to more often than not purposefully confusingly phrased questions, and then they’d be free to hang out with their friends and be a, well, not exactly normal, but close to normal young adult again.

But the thought saddened more than it motivated them, and they had to consciously stop themself from looking around to see if they could spot any of the three blondes they’d come to think of as family. Erwin, Nanaba and Mike all had similar exams to take soon and the spacious library had filled in by whatever time it was now, so they would no doubt be within these four walls. Sundays usually involved morning revising, followed by strictlynon-academic plans everyone would have previously agreed onfor their common weekly afternoon off.

Hange winced at the pang of loneliness they felt when they realized they actually had no idea what their closest friends would be up to later. It only got worse when they remembered that Levi, who they’d been trying not to focus any thoughts on as those were proving more and more distracting these past few months, hadn’t tried to coax them into coming along this weekend like he’d done since they’d started studying more intensely. Hange had noticed Erwin’s surprised glances and Mike and Nanaba’s barely disguised teasing laughs when he’d started doing it, and they couldn’t really blame any of them –after all, that initiative from Levi had been a drastic switch from their previously established social roles.

Lost in memories of Levi’s techniques to get them to go out, which had mostly consisted of an association of almost threats and intense glaring until they would caved –which they hadn’t, amazingly– it took them a minute to notice the hand upon their right shoulder.

“Get up,” a familiar voice whispered up close, startling them.

Shit. Think of the devil.

Levi had also been pestering them about taking an actual break, on top of the Sunday festivities they’d been avoiding, but up until now their shared roommates had acted as enough of a buffer that Hange had been able to pretend they hadn’t noticed his nagging messages in the groupchat or pointed stares near the laundry machine.

“I’m fine right here,” they said cheerfully, pretending to focus on their textbook again and turning the page they’d been staring for a while without managing to actually read a word of it.

They weren’t sure they could get up, really, not without betraying their exhausted state to their closest friend and having to admit just how shitty they’d been at taking care of themself lately.

They swallowed back a shocked yelp as hands seized them up and pulled them to their feet anyway, and they caught themself on the table at the last moment to prevent the inevitable fall that would await them if they really were to put all their weight on their knees right now.

“What are you doing?” they asked through gritted teeth, unable to glare back at him as the head rush made dark spots dance in front of their eyes. “Let me go, I need to study.”

Levi wordlessly –and annoyingly easily– tore them away from their spot, half carrying them until they were both standing in front of one of the nearby arch windows. Hange muffled their protesting squeals out of some remnant of respect for the nosy judgmental students around, even though they knew Levi’s powerful glaring would probably prevent any of them from protesting at the noise of their struggling in the otherwise religiously quiet space.

And then they looked up and caught sight of their reflection.

And shamefully realized they could have given their curious peers the benefit of the doubt and hypothesized there might have been a valid reason behind all the curious looks they’d been getting all morning.

Hange was wearing their long sleeved purple octopus pajama top, the buttons ridiculously mismatched, with unmatched green cat-patterned pajamas bottoms –that they realized with a quiet gasp were probably Levi’s and not theirs, now that they were noticing the pants ended well above their ankles. There wasn’t one but two hair ties failing to hold their greasy matted hair up and away from their face, and their goggle-shaped sunglasses were hanging crooked on their nose with the rubber band twisted on both their temples –which finally explained part of their lingering headache, and why it was so challenging to read.

“What you need is to go home, Four Eyes.”

Tears sprung to their eyes before they could stop them, and for a minute they only stared at their shiny mirror image in quiet puzzlement. These weren’t tears of shame even if, as used as they were to being unconventional and to other people’s reaction to their self expression, this accidental pajama-in-public incident was definitely an all time new low for them. Exhaustion could have played a role, and the dark circles under their eyes as well as their paler than ever complexion easily spelled it out for them.

But mostly, Hange felt guilty. Levi had tried to mask it, but his voice had wavered over his own nickname for them, like he felt pained at seeing them in this state, and he couldn’t quite meet their eyes when that was his main tool to get anyone to comply to his requests.

“I don’t think I can,” they replied honestly.

His now openly worried gaze finally met theirs in the glass in front of them and he frowned, opening his mouth to object.

But Hange shook their head slowly in defeat.

They weren’t arguing with him, they were simply stating a truth.

They knew they must have taken the bus to get here, but they honestly couldn’t remember any part of the journey –hell, they couldn’t even remember putting shoes on, although they were glad they’d thought of that at least. They didn’t think they had a key to the apartment on them, as they usually resided in the deep pocket of the wool coat they’d forgotten to put on even before going out in this freezing winter weather. And practical issues asides, they didn’t actually trust themself to actually make it home in one piece right now, not even in the middle of a bright busy morning in the city and to their place that really wasn’t that far off campus.

Levi narrowed his eyes at them before nodding once, sharp.

“Wait outside. I’ll meet you in five.”

But Hange stood there, equally confused and chagrined at his statement. Was he going to go home with them? No, that wouldn’t do.

Levi had his own finals to study for, Hange couldn’t impose on him like that because they’d been stupid enough to push themself past their limit. They would simply have to endure a couple more hours of trying not to pass out at their seat until noon came around and all of their roommates went home anyway, to tag along without disrupting anyone’s schedule in the process.

Levi’s hands squeezed at their shoulders firmly, and his stare hardened in the window as if he could hear them reaching that conclusion.

Then he let go but didn’t move too far, seemingly unsure if Hange could actually stand by themself.

They rolled their eyes fondly, and –precociously– turned around, sporting what they hoped looked like a gentle smile and not a maniac grin –Levi’s expression remained stubbornly set, so they couldn’t tell either way– before moving carefully towards the door. They tried their hardest not to stumble on the way, and coughed to mask their giggling when they failed and almost tripped on their own feet.

Levi met them at the back exit of the building with their backpack and his own stuff shortly, and Hange didn’t bother trying to hide that they’d nearly fallen asleep on the stairs in the few minutes they’d been apart.

He frowned as they yawned without putting their hands to their mouth, but uncharacteristically didn’t comment on it as he grabbed their elbow to direct them towards an unknown car a few feet away.

They dug their heels in the sidewalk when they realized he’d ordered a paying ride for them.

“Wait, Levi, there’s no need for that. The bus–

“Won’t be here for another twenty minutes,” he interrupted. “You’re not passing out in the streets again, not under my watch.”

They recognized his clipped tone as the one that didn’t suffer any kind of discussion, even as he mentioned that party a month ago. Hange sighed inwardly, but followed his steps –they were way too tired to fight him anymore.

“What, like you’d get worried?” they still teased –they were exhausted, not dead. No way in hell would they miss an occasion to needle their favorite neat freak.

Levi snorted, and had Hange been less asleep on their feet, they’d have felt proud that they’d managed to get that sound out of him.

“I’d worry about my back, for one. I don’t want to know what carrying your unconscious ass home twice would do to it.”

“Hey, not fair!” They whined in protest, missing their target completely when they tried to playfully slap his arm. “I was at least ten pounds heavier then! And besides, Mike did most of the carrying, didn’t he?”

Hange couldn’t remember much from that night, but the rumor –in the form of Erwin and Nanaba’s recollection of the evening as they’d told it to them the following day, anyway– had Levi so worried about them passing out drunk he’d been too restlessly anxious to carry them himself, and had instead covered them in all of their friends’ coats, shoving their unconscious body in Mike’s strong arms, and then proceeding to walk beside him to closely monitor their breathing and that they wouldn’t choke on their own tongue or surprise vomit.

Hange only recalled waking up propped against multiple pillows with a pounding head and a grumpy –well, grumpier than usual– and sleep-deprived Levi who had shoved a glass of water in their shaky hand and scolded them about their alcohol consumption for the next half hour or so. It had then taken them drinking and keeping down a whole liter of diverse hydrating fluids before he’d finally left them alone to go and nurse his own hangover, and it was only after he’d left that Hange had noticed the newfound tidiness of their room and how the purple fatboy that would normally lay forgotten in a corner of the room –and under a pile of questioningly clean clothes and textbooks– had been pushed right next to their bed with a possibly Levi-shaped indentation in it.

Levi didn’t answer their rhetorical question, instead stopping in his tracks and giving them a clinical once over.

“What?” they prompted, barely resisting the urge to cross their arms to hide themself from his examination.

“Nothing,” he replied quickly, averting his eyes and opening the car door for them.

He muttered something under his breath still, and Hange’s ears caught a few words that sounded suspiciously like end up disappearing if you keep this up.

He greeted the driver and confirmed his identity as Hange plopped down with a relieved groan, and didn’t miss the concerned look Levi shot them as he sat next to them. His hand slid down from where it was still gripping their elbow to rest gently on their forearm as the car started, and they could swear he gave it a small, awkward but infinitely soft couple of comforting pats.

Hange boldly took advantage of this atypically lengthy physical contact, and moved so they could slide their hands together almost nonchalantly –almost, because they nearly faltered when Levi’s neck snapped to stare at their fingers in awe.

Hange smiled as naturally as they could to try and ease the shock from his features.

“I’ll pay you back for the ride,” they promised, squeezing his hand once.

They let him go after that. It wouldn’t do for their most introverted friend who was making sure they were getting safely home to get a brain aneurysm from their unexpected and possibly unwanted touches, after all.

“Tch. You better,” he grunted, moving his hand back to his lap immediately.

They couldn’t help but smile again when they took note that his tone wasn’t nearly as biting as they knew it could be.

[sequinsmile-x]

Yield

She knows he’s wavering, something she’d counted on as she watched Penelope force a third glass of punch into his hands only twenty minutes ago. He was always desperate for her, but anytime he was drinking his ability to hide it was diminished.

AKA the one where Emily and Aaron hook up at Quantico's annual 4th July party, despite the fact no one knows they are together.

-x-

Hi friends!

I did a poll the other day asking which smut you guys wanted next, and secret relationship smut won by quite some margin.

So, I hope you enjoy this. I'm sure I say this every time, but I think this might well be the filthiest smut I've ever written haha

Let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.7k

Warning: Smut, 18+

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily hated the annual Quantico July 4th party. 

It reminded her too much of all of the parties she’d been forced to go to by her mother when she was younger. She spends as much of her time as she can standing in a corner, hiding away from everyone who wasn’t on the team, sipping the punch that Penelope had forced into her hand. 

The definitely spiked punch.

It had become a tradition of sorts over the years. Penelope would sneak whatever alcohol she deemed appropriate into the punchbowl like it was prom night and the next working day everyone would pretend they didn’t know it was her. 

“I think she went for tequila this year.” 

She smiles at the sound of Aaron’s voice, turning to look at him as she takes another sip of her drink, “It’s definitely tequila,” she says, looking him up and down. He’d taken off his jacket and tie, leaving him in just his suit pants and his white shirt, the top button undone and his sleeves rolled up, “I saw the bottle in her office.” 

Aaron chuckles and steps closer to her, staying far enough away for it to be considered appropriate in their current setting, “You look nice.” 

She looks down at herself, her red tank top and black pants the exact same outfit he’d watched her put on that morning. She hides her smile behind her glass of punch, taking a sip in a failed attempt to calm herself down, well aware that this was not the time or the place. 

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” she replies, finding some comfort in the fact he looks as affected as she feels, a look in his eyes that she only usually saw in his apartment or hers. 

It had been almost three months since their first date. Aaron had been paramount in her finding her place in her life again after Paris. He was the only person who hadn’t expected her to be the same as she had been before. He took her as she was, welcoming her into his and his son’s life, both of them helping her piece herself back together. Over time she felt her affection for Aaron shifting from purely friendship to more. Although, if she was honest with herself, she knew those feelings had been around for much longer. 

He’d asked her out, something that surprised her because she was so sure she would have had to be the one to cross that line. He’d been nervous, tripping over his words in a way she’d never have expected from him, and it made him all the more endearing to her. Later, when they were curled up around each other in his bed, he’d admitted he’d never asked anyone out before, that Haley had been the one to ask him on a date all those years ago. 

They loved each other. They’d said it to each other on their third date, timing that would have scared her with anyone else but with him, it just felt right. As if they’d been slowly walking towards each other their whole lives, the bright light they both needed after the darkest of nights. 

No one, except Jess and Jack, knew about them yet. Emily knew that they had nothing to hide, but finding the right time to tell the team seemed to be impossible. It’s how they find themselves almost 12 weeks in with their relationship still a secret. She can’t say she doesn’t enjoy that aspect of it, the sneaking around and stolen moments with the man she loves, but she was also excited to be able to show how much they loved each other to their friends. They’d decided they’d tell them at Dave’s 4th July party in two days' time. A deadline that still felt so far away when all she could think about was kissing him even though they were in the office. 

Before she can say anything else, Penelope bounds over, clearly already a couple of glasses of the punch down, a wide smile on her face. 

“What are you two doing over here?” She asks enthusiastically. 

“Hiding,” Emily replies quickly, “You know I hate these things. Hotch was keeping me company.” 

They exchange a look over Penelope’s head, and something slightly dangerous flashes in Aaron’s eyes, making Emily’s stomach flip. 

It’s a couple of hours later when it gets too much for her, the heated glances across the room driving her crazy. She gives Penelope and JJ an excuse that was going to the bathroom, hoping that they’d actually think she was going to sneak a cigarette like she sometimes did when she was drinking. She walks into the supply closet on the same floor as the bullpen and closes the door behind her, firing off a text to Aaron before she pushes her phone into her pocket. 

He’s knocking on the door in less than two minutes, walking in with a curious look on his face. 

“Is everything ok, Em?” He asks as he closes the door behind him, walking towards her. 

She nods, reaching out for his hand and tugging him close, her arms around his waist as she stamps a kiss to his jaw, “Yes, I just wanted a moment alone with you.”

Aaron raises his eyebrow at her as he pulls back and looks down at her, “Em, you text me 911.” 

She shrugs, biting her lower lip as she grasps at the open collar of his shirt, “It is an emergency,” she says, kissing his cheek and then the corner of his lips, “I need you.” 

He groans as she pushes her hips against his, “Sweetheart,” he says, kissing her quickly, “We only have to stay for another couple of hours,” he pulls back, “Then I’ll take you home.” 

She looks up at him through her lashes, “Honey, we both know Penelope will convince us all we need to go to the bar,” she says, pouting in a way she’d later deny, “We won’t get home for hours.” 

He smiles at her and tucks her hair behind her ear. He wanted her too, he always did, but he knew logically this wasn’t a good idea. But he’d had a few glasses of punch, tequila and desire for her clouding his usual ironclad judgment. 

“Sweetheart…”

She knows he’s wavering, something she’d counted on as she watched Penelope force a third glass of punch into his hands only twenty minutes ago. He was always desperate for her, but anytime he was drinking his ability to hide it was diminished. She smiles as she pulls him back in for another kiss, her hands grasping the back of his shirt, creasing the material in her fists. He deepens the kiss this time, any apparent hesitance to this happening long gone. 

She reaches down and cups him through his pants, smirking as she feels how hard he is, groaning as he nips lightly at her neck, careful not to leave a mark that the others would see when they went back out to the party. He kisses his way back up her throat before he grabs her ear lobe between his teeth and whispers in her ear. 

“Turn around.” 

She shivers as his breath skips over her skin and she does as she’s told. She knows she should hate it, hate that she so quickly follows his demands, but she can’t bring herself to. He presses himself against her, trapping herself between his chest and the shelving unit as he wraps his arms around her, his hands drifting down to the button and zipper of her pants, undoing them with ease. He pulls them and her underwear down, letting them fall to her ankles, the material gathering around her boots. 

Aaron steps back to look at her, a growl rumbling in his chest at the sight of her. He crouches down behind her, his hands spreading her thighs as far apart as they will go with her feet still trapped in her pants. He lets his fingers trail over marks he’d left behind last night, bruises of his fingerprints and teeth tattooed into her inner thighs. She gasps as he kisses one of them, his name escaping her breathlessly. He knows they don’t have time to waste, that the others would come looking for them soon, and he feels his need for her becoming desperate. He buries his face in her, licking through her once from behind, groaning at the taste of her, at how slick she is.

“So ready for me already, Em,” he says, turning his head to nip at her thigh. 

“Fuck,” she grunts out as he does it again, her hands reaching out and grasping the shelf in front of her. She shivers as he hears Aaron stand up, followed by the rasp of his zipper and the sound of his pants falling past his hips. He steps closer, his hands on her hips as he tilts them towards him before he guides himself into her, her breath catching in her throat at the familiar stretch of him, her nails scratching against the metal shelving. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he groans, resting his forehead against the back of her head, his grip on her hips tightening, “You feel so fucking good.”

She nods, her words stolen by the feeling of being overwhelmed by him. He doesn’t move, making her feel every inch of him as he remains seated deep within her, smirking against her temple as she clenches around, desperately trying to move her hips as he holds her in place. She has no choice but to let it happen, trapped between him and the shelves and his large hands, totally at his mercy in a way that she loves. In a way she’d never let anyone else do to her because she trusts him completely. 

“Aaron,” she breathes out, her lungs stuffed full of desire, “Please.” 

He’d loved to keep her here, to make her beg for what he knows she wants, but they don’t have time. They’ve already been gone too long and were walking a dangerous path. He knew the team would find out about them eventually, but he didn’t want it to be because they found them in a supply closet at work with their pants around their ankles. 

He finally starts to move against her and she rests her head back against his shoulder, turning to kiss his jaw. She smiles as he tilts his head so their lips meet, the kiss as messy as it was perfect. They fall into a familiar rhythm, both giving as good as the other, the small space they were in filling with the sound of their breathless moans and skin slapping against skin. She clenches around him as he thrusts into her, moaning as he hits so deeply inside of her because of the angle that she’s sure he’s carving out a space for himself, ensuring that she’ll be feeling him for days after this. 

He moves his hands from her hips, making her hiss as he does in a way that lets her know he’s left bruises behind, more evidence of his desperation for her left beneath her clothes. One of his hands moves downwards to draw soft circles against her clit, making her break their kiss with a gasp. He smiles as her breath skips across his skin. He grasps her chin with his other hand, holding her in place so he can watch her face as she falls apart. She grasps his arms, her nails digging into the bare skin of his forearms, 

“Aaron,” she gasps out, her hips stuttering against his. She can feel it building in her belly, fire threatening to spread throughout her body, her vision starting to go white. 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he says, his words muffled against her cheek, “Let me feel it.” 

He swipes his thumb over her clit again and it pushes her over the edge. He captures her lips in a kiss again to swallow her moan, still just about aware enough of their surroundings to not want to draw attention to them. 

She knows the only reason she stays standing is because he’s holding her up, her legs feeling like jelly as her orgasm makes them shake. She feels him start to speed up, his thrusts getting messier and less consistent, his hand that had been on her clit drifting up and under her tank top, cupping her breast through her bra, his thumb pressing into the hickey he’d left the night before next to the brand mark. 

“Come on, baby,” she says, gasping again as he continues to thrust into her, her body still sensitive, she pulls back to look at him, ignoring the pull in her neck as their eyes meet, smiling as she repeats his words, “Let me feel it.” 

He comes inside of her with a growl he muffles into her neck, his hold on her tight as he lets go, the breath knocked out of him. 

It takes a few seconds but his grasp on her becomes softer, his lips gentle against her cheek as he kisses her, joining in as she chuckles. 

“Ok, now I really don’t want to go out with the others,” she says, stamping a kiss against his lips. He laughs and pulls away from her, both of them slightly bereft as he slips out of her. She’s quick to pull up her underwear and pants. She grimaces as she feels him leak out of her into the seat of her underwear, and she shifts her hips back and forth. She looks at him and watches as he pulls his pants back up, “When we get back to yours we’re doing that again, and then showering,” she says, smiling as she wraps her arms around his neck, “And maybe we’ll do it again in the shower.”

He wraps his arms around her, his hands on her hips, his touch more gentle than it had been just moments before. 

“Think we can get out of drinks?” He asks, already knowing the answer before she shakes her head as she laughs. 

“Absolutely not, you know how persuasive Pen can be.” 

___

“Just follow me.”

Derek groans as he follows Penelope down the hallway towards the supply closet, JJ, Dave and Spencer just behind him.

“Baby girl, I believe you ok, I don’t need to find people I work with hooking up.” 

“It happens every year,” she says, ignoring his protests, “And no one ever believes me.” 

“Maybe thats because you spike the punch,” JJ quips, smiling when Penelope turns and narrows her eyes at her.

“Where are Emily and Hotch?” Spencer asks, frowning as they turn the corner to the hallway with the supply closet

Penelope shrugs, “Emily is having one of her shame cigarettes, and I don’t know about Hotch.” 

“He said something about stepping out to call Jack,” Dave says as they all come to a stop outside of the supply closet, “Ok, we’re here. Are we going to burst in or wait whoever is in there out?”

“Well, I…”

Penelope drifts off as they hear voices coming from inside, the words dulled slightly by the closed door. 

“When we get back to yours we’re doing that again, and then showering, and maybe we’ll do it again in the shower.”

They all stand in stunned silence, and JJ is the first to speak, “Was that…Emily?” 

“Who would she be in there with?” Derek asks, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. 

“I’d usually guess Mick Rawson but he’s away on-”

“Think we can get out of drinks?” 

The team audibly gasps this time, Aaron’s deep voice even clearer than Emily’s had been as it travels through the door. 

“Oh my God,” Penelope squeals, the laughter coming from inside the closet enough to ensure they won’t hear her. 

“Absolutely not, you know how persuasive Pen can be.” 

Emily’s words kick Penelope into action, and she opens the door, the smell of sex and sweat filtering out into the hallway.  

Emily and Aaron jump apart as they’ve been burned, both of them open-mouthed and staring at their friends, every one of their faces painted with a mixture of confusion and disgust. 

“You two are definitely coming to drinks,” Penelope says, her hands on her hips, “You both have a lot of explaining to do.” 

Emily’s shock wears off first, and she turns to Aaron, her eyebrows creased as she lightly hits his chest, narrowing her eyes as he grabs her hand and squeezes it as she glares at him, ignoring the team momentarily as she whispers through her teeth. 

“You didn’t lock the goddamn door?” 

-x-

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[keeira]

DCASS2023!

Sorry it took me a minute to finish up! I saw that you liked slumber land and coffee shops so I decided to leave my comfort zone a little bit and dabble into something on the more romantic side of things haha. I hope you like it c: @korral-craftin Slumberland/DCA FNAF crossover

Stardust

“Is there anything more you’d like to add to that?” your colleagues' attention was focused on you as your hand desperately twitched under the cafe table.

 “I have nothing more to add, however, I’d like to pass this opportunity off to Helen so she can discuss our project’s plan moving forward,” you spoke in forced composure. A wave of relief washed over you as your project manager began to lead the meeting, commanding the attentiveness of the board while you ducked away from the camera for a moment to rub the sleep out of your eyes. These early morning meetings were killing you, not to mention your sleep schedule has been down the drain the past… You can’t remember quite clearly.

  A message popped up at the corner of your screen but you were quick to dismiss it. It was something you could address later. If you even wanted to look a it at all.

 “Careful,” the gentle clink of a glass cup diverted your attention, “it’s hot.”

 “Thank you!” You turned to the barista who gave you a small smile.

 “-Are you still with us?” The annoyance in Helen’s voice was evident. You will be hearing about this later.

 “Yes, please continue.”

This was your everyday. Early mornings, coworkers, and coffee. That was until you headed to lunch and then home to do project work. It was eleven twenty-six, meaning you only had about a half hour left of this before you could really start your day. At least the work was remote, or that’s just what you’ve been telling yourself.

The first sip of coffee drew a long sigh from you. Well technically this was your second cup but after the first round of meetings hell you needed another. Its rich flavor excited your tastebuds with the caffeine rush you desperately craved, only soothing them with a cool wash of sweetness to compliment. It was no wonder this place became an instant hit for you the second that delicate steam rose from the mug, not to mention the lovely latte art.

  But was coffee really enough?

  By the time your meeting finished, you had already downed the last of your liquid addiction and passed off the dishes to the barista with a simple farewell. You always felt sluggish getting out of the cafe’s sofa chairs. Hours of sitting haven’t been kind to you, but not much could be helped about it. It was your job after all. You packed your laptop into its bag and left for home, the endless ambiance of the city drowning you amongst the masses. The walk home was always nice. The spring air held the crispness of winter but the summer sun kept it just warm enough the get away with a light jacket.

  But even with all these wonderful things, the day just couldn’t end any faster.

  Lunch was microwavable and in your apartment, before you spent the last hours of your shift riffling through the endless tasks upper management was trying to drown you in. By the time your shift was over, you were collapsed on the couch with your laptop in your lap. Another message popped up and you clicked on it against your better judgment. You knew what they were. And yet a frown pulled on the edges of your lips.

  Bedtime.

  That twisting pressure that built in your chest pressed you towards your bedroom. Sure it was a bit early to sleep but what was the harm of getting to your real day faster? Your nervous smile was masked with the familiar giddiness that drives your days. Your clothes were long forgotten as you pulled on plush pajamas. Coffee may be the highlight of your days, but the real highlight begins once you close your eyes. Light off and covers pulled up to your chin. The bustle of the city mixed with the gentle quiet that came with the night.

  It took a minute, but you finally had your apron in your hands. After tying the strings behind your back, you all but danced behind the counter that sparkled in your eyes. The same mug you drank from today was in your hands as you poured freshly brewed coffee into it. Sure you were still a bit sloppy with the latte art, but in time you would learn the proper way to do it. Plus, you were sure your only customer wouldn’t mind.

  He started appearing in your dreams weeks ago, at first hiding away once you spotted him in the corners of your vision before waiting so patiently for a cup as he was doing now. That dangerous smile and all. Orange sun rays reflected the dim, mood lighting while his dark appearance drew all the attention from the pink shop onto himself. His black coat did not improve how badly he stuck out with a rose cup in hand and those amber eyes ensnared your heart with just a glance.

  “Your latte art is getting better,” the rich, velvety sound of his voice always caught you off guard, “and tastes good too.”

“Thanks, I've been practicing.”

“Any way I can convince you to just stick with practice this evening?” a metal eyebrow raised whilst Eclipse swirled the contents of his cup.

  You slipped into the seat across from the mechanical giant, “Absolutely not. Where are we going today?”

  This was the life you really craved. Not stupid project planning or cooking dinner alone. You wanted to be immersed in a world of adventure, clinging to Eclipse’s hand as he pulled you off to the newest wonder to see. Maybe he would take you to the Ferris wheel again? Or, no, he would bring you for a ride on another giant goose? All you knew was the tap of the glass against the table and gentle, fiery claws extending in your direction. And your heart soared.

  With your hand in his, he pulled you across your little coffee shop hand and hand. His life-filled cackle mingled with the excited strums of your heart. In an instant, the back cupboard was thrown open and the both of you tumbled into an expansive sea of vibrant coral, its neon patterning rippling along with the camouflaged fish that danced in between its homely pockets. In the real sea, the salt would have stung your eyes shut, but here its cool embrace encouraged you to look further into its beautiful depths. With dark hands to hold you steady, you were invincible.

Waking up in the morning was always your biggest tragedy.

  Your alarm blared, jolting you awake as usual. Just five more minutes was all you craved, but it was always too late to go back once you were awake., So you mechanically dragged yourself out of bed, threw on an appropriate outfit, and began the cycle again. Cereal, laptop, and bag. It was cold this morning but at least the sun was up. Its warm rays prompt a shy smile from your lips.

  The bell rings as you enter the coffee shop, its pink interior is only a further reminder of the dreams you craved. As always, the barista waved to you in welcome. You slumped into the same seat as yesterday and the days before, prying open your laptop and logging on. The open messages send a jolt down your spine but you close them with forced composure. Instead, you find yourself exchanging morning pleasantries with the people you couldn’t stand. Discussing project plans you can't bring yourself to care about and wishing that time would quicken its dragging pace. When Helen spoke, you could feel the underneath of your skin cringe but you endured her grating voice.

Instead of tuning in, you found yourself daydreaming of that wild smile again. He twirled with you in the water, hands interlocked with yours and eyes focused solely on you. He only broke his hold to tuck away the hair that floated into your face from the water’s current. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow’ is what he promised and you couldn’t help the butterflies that roosted against your ribcage.

Your name ripped you back to reality. Your coworkers stared at you expectantly and you felt helpless under their ridged gaze.

“What are your findings from the spreadsheets you sorted last night?” Panic gripped at your heart as you tried to rewind back to reality, clicking through your work files with sputtering nonsense. A ping alerted you to another message. You pulled up your data from last night. You treated their stares like a lifeless screen and like a machine you spit out numbers to satisfy its asking. Even your body movements were rehearsed like a fine-tuned program capable of churning without feeling. Flawless except for the rapid thundering of your heart that betrayed your false confidence. Another notification pinged an icy trickle down your spine. You didn’t spare it a glance.

A glass clinked down beside you, and a panicked spasm ran its course inside. You did not thank the barista as you remained in character for the wolf-like audience before you. By the time you were done performing, the coffee was cold.

There was no joy to your walk home this afternoon. There was no warmth in the food you ate. There came no relief to the end of your work day, the endless haunting messages on full display. Instead, you sought the only real comfort you knew in cotton clothes. You will know joy when you see him. You will feel warmth in his hands. Your relief will come once your eyes are closed against the endless city light.

Your alarm blared you awake, as it always does. But that couldn’t be right. You must have forgotten your dream.

You let your feet drag you through the daily motions. Coffee, coworkers, walking. Messages. And as soon as your work was finished for the day, you launched yourself into bed. It didn’t matter how much you tossed and turned, your body fighting against the early bedtimes to satisfy your need for the fantastical. And when you finally felt as if you could drift away to your dreams, your alarm blared you awake again in the morning.

Two days of dreamless nights. Perhaps you had grown too dependent on your dreams to face reality. Perhaps the month you’ve spent with your celestial savior was nothing more but a fantasy to hide behind. But his hands felt so real. Those burning claws were gentle against your waist as he dipped you during a ball dance. You remember the night clearly while resisting crawling out of bed to start the daunting day that awaited you. His sharp eyes bore into your own as the music enveloped the both of you. That lazy smile that painted his lips responded to your own gleeful grin. That night was magic. He leaned in close and pressed his forehead against your own.

“Will you spend every dream with me, my dear stardust?” his amber eyes twinkled like starlight.

“If you’ll have me.”

You hadn’t realized the quiver in your lip as you dragged yourself away from the safety your covers provided you. The real world does not wait for your promises. And neither would she. Everything was more difficult today. Your clothes wouldn’t settle nicely. The bag you carried was nowhere to be found. Even the weather was cold. It felt like your world was silently crashing down around you only that world wasn’t the one you were currently in. Part of you wondered how you had become so attached to a dream. Something that couldn’t be real.

Your favorite barista wasn’t in today and the work you were assigned only got harder. And the messages only got worse. You had to dream tonight.

When you finally lay yourself to rest, you awoke to find the apron you’ve grown to love resting gently on the counter. Yet, you ignored it. Instead, you burst into the cafe, eyes searching for the sore thumb that always sat at your favorite seat. The lights were dim, making the shop seem so cold like the heart of its joy was missing somewhere between the gates of your dream and the next. He would be here. You would wait. Wait as the lights only grew darker in your loneliness. And when they went out, you jolted awake. There was no alarm on the weekends.

He never came.

The feeling instead wasn’t unlike one you’ve felt before, only now it grew into a vast pit within your chest. The comfort you’ve relied on abandoned you. You felt like crying. The tears never came. You never realized how alone you were in this world until Eclipse wasn’t there to chase the nightmares away. You never knew how much you hated this life until your false reality was gone.

Despite not needing to work, you found yourself aimlessly walking to the coffee shop you spent your morning in. The air was slightly chilly like always, even with the morning sun trying its best. It just didn’t feel as bright as it used to. The city was grey and its walls were your concrete prison. Even the people seemed more secluded today.

The bells of the coffee shop door rang as you walked inside. The barista smiled at you and waved. You could not return his kindness this day. Instead, you sought the comfort of your favorite seat without ordering a drink this morning. Just somewhere to relax the edging pain that ate away at your insides. There wasn’t another soul in the shop today outside of the bartender and, honestly, you preferred that for today. You could get a drink in a minute, but for now this spot was all you needed. Just a small slice of happiness.

“Excuse me,” the barista set a cup down at your table. But you hadn’t ordered anything today?

You glanced up at the man with mild shock, your sorrowful eyes meeting his unreadable amber ones. His orange hair was messier than usual, like someone whose been desperately trying to sleep only to roll against their pillow for hours. You imagined you looked much the same. He lingered at your table, seeming unsure of what to do with himself.

“Thank you,” your pleasant smile was forced.

The barista stood at your table for a moment more, glancing at his station before ultimately sliding into the seat across from you. Much to your bewilderment. He seemed troubled. His hands fidgeted with each other and his eyes darted wildly around the room before settling back on you. You had no idea what this guy was doing. He never tried to talk to you more outside of a simple hello or goodbye. Perhaps he could tell you weren’t all there today? Or maybe he’s curious why you’re in on your day off.

“We haven’t properly met,” his voice rang with the familiarity of your everyday visit to the shop, “I’m Saros.”

He held his hand out to your cautious form like a dear friend meeting you again. You took his hand, giving your name in turn. The awkwardness you felt rang against your emptiness. You could tell he felt out of place too.

“I wanted to say sorry for not being there,” his hands rubbed nervously together, “I had something going on and I just couldn’t seem to get there.”

Was he talking about not being at work yesterday?

“You don’t have to apologize to me for not making it to work?” This guy had to be out of his mind.

“No thats-” Saros sighed “I’m not talking about work.”

Now you were thoroughly confused.

“I’m sorry I’ve never approached you sooner, I wasn’t sure how well you would take hearing this but,” he paused for a moment, those fiery amber eyes like ones you knew so well, “would you like to daydream with me, stardust?”

You never told anyone about your dreams. Much less did anyone else call you that nickname. His black dress attire was paired with a dark apron and on it was his nametag. Beside his name was a dark circle with orange triangles jutting out of it. Fiery red hair that spiked out and those wild eyes. Your dreams.

“Eclipse?”

His relieved smile cradled your crying soul, “the one and only.”

That piece you were sorely missing began to swell.

“Will you dream with me tonight?”

  “Why wait to dream when we have right now?”

[koolades-world]

hi, super unrelated to obey me BUTTTT i was wondering how you handle your request inbox? is that what it’s called? is it ask inbox? nvm you get my point… i think? idk i just imagine it’s very stressful, like do you chose a prompt that interests you first or do you go by the oldest first.

i like to think about how fun it would be to write stuff and posts about my interests — i even think it’d be fun to get requests. however, i also recognize that i don’t think i could handle it. as much as i’d want to write as a hobby, some part of me knows the moment i start getting requests, i will start viewing it more as a job. i bet there are asks that also bring motivation or inspiration but i’m not 100% sure.

i was just curious if you would be willing to give some insight or your personal experience. totally fine if you don’t want to or don’t know how to respond to this. thank you!

hello!! this is different from the stuff i usually get but I'm super happy to answer your questions and try to help out :)

not really sure what it's called either now that i think about it. i think i just call it my inbox?? idk haha. i rarely talk about my tumblr with anyone and actually don't even mention i write just to have to avoid explaining what exactly i write is to someone who doesn't know. the only two people who know are two of my best friends <333 love you guys since i know you might see this <3 although i will say mentioning that youre a tumblr writer always seems to kill the convo haha

usually, i work in the order i get them! right now, i've just made it into the beginning of feburary since i just have so many and i don't want people to feel like picking favorite because ultimately, anons are people who enjoyed my content enough to make a requests and i want to see that through, to let them feel that excitement that someone whos work they liked actually wrote their idea! some requests can be kinda hard to do sometimes, so i usually need more time to do those so i have time to dwell on the idea. but sometimes they just click and i have it done in less than twenty minutes! sometimes i do occasionally fast track a request if i'm very inspired or if it really speaks to me!

the amount of requests can get a little overwhelming at times, but it's so heartwarming to know that many people like the content i make. right now i have 77 unwritten i think? one day i'll make it through all of them but i don't think ill ever get back to 0 /pos

in order to continue writing it has to be fun for you!! it for sure should not feel like a job. i used to write back in 2020 because of all the extra time i had on my hands, and i lost the time to keep up, so in 2023, i migrated here to try and pick it up again. i'm a stem major (bio my beloved <3) and it's my passion but it leaves little room to be creative, so this is my outlet! i feel like it's a good way to express yourself if you couldn't otherwise. i was so excited when i got my first request! i still remember it clearly just because of how excited i was. it's fulfilling to make people happy with something as simple as words that came from my silly little brain

honestly i blew up much faster than i ever thought i would so i still feel like im all too new at this tumblr blog thing. i still learn new things about tumblr all the time, such as custom themes on desktop haha. i've had this account and have been writing since march of last year but i didn't really start to pick up steam until january of this year because i started posting daily to try and get through all my waiting requests just to like, explode probably because of the consistent posting, so if you are still interested in writing, for sure take it slow! if it's just for fun, don't worry and actually try not to be too consistent. if you want to grow quickly, consistency is key no matter what schedule you decide on.

if i get rude requests, which has only happened a few times now, i just don't do them because i don't want to reward that kind of behavior, even if the idea is magnificent. for sure lay out rules if you do plan to go ahead with writing. be firm with them! im not great at that lol. also remember that you aren't obligated to at all! you are the one choosing to be here and you only have to do the ones you want, or none if you choose not to take requests. i like them because it gives me ideas i wouldnt have before because it can be kinda hard to come up with original ideas at the pace i would need them for my daily post. but, the pace i move at is very fast and it even scares me sometimes, so that wouldn't be too much of a problem for you if you chose to write

hope this was helpful and let me know if you need anything else. always happy to help <3

[lululawrence]

hiii, i am trying to start a new fic and absolutely clueless on how to start it, nothing i think of feels right. do you perhaps have any starters you'd like to suggest? it doesn't matter the context, i will make it work ❤️

is this @2tiedships2 sending me anonymous asks?? hahaha okay let's see. i'll try to give you a few options to choose from since i don't know pov/ship/tropes you prefer etc (unless it's mel, so i'll give at least one that will hopefully suit her needs haha) and hopefully one of these will get the creative juices flowing for you! haha

Louis blinked, his eyes stinging and watering immediately. He knew he'd been caught off guard by the news Niall had just given him, but he hadn't realized he was so shocked that he forgot to blink until this very moment.

Then again, considering the news, Louis felt his automatic bodily functions shutting down was actually a fairly calm way of handling things.

Niall surveyed his pack once more, the feeling he was forgetting something irking him when he knew he wouldn't be returning for at least a few months' time. He needed to pack light, but considering the areas they would be traversing were anything but friendly, he also needed to pack smart.

Packing was something at which Niall excelled, but packing light and smart were more a matter of opinion. Hopefully there wasn't a single person who would fault his decisions this time, for more than just his life hung in the balance.

Harry folded his arms and glared, not that it stopped Zayn from waltzing right in like he owned the place.

"Alright?" Zayn asked, tilting his chin at Harry and causing his shiny, perfect, electric blue hair to flip behind him as if he were in a shampoo advert.

Harry just made a strange choking sound before rolling his eyes angrily and locking the door behind the gorgeous being otherwise known as Louis' best friend.

Liam did his best to remain focused on the bar, but he couldn't help the way his eyes flicked towards the door every thirty seconds. He'd been told not to wait, but of course that was exactly what he was doing. It was what he always did.

Maybe it was time he finally did something for himself and listened.

Zayn scrunched his nose before giving up and swiping at it. He knew he'd left a mark behind, but he'd worry about that later. Making sure everything was perfect in the last moments before the world was shot to hell was more important.

Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic. Then again, maybe it wasn't. He wasn't the most reliable person to ask about such things, all things considered.

and just in case this really truly was mel asking for a start to her next fic, how about this:

Louis looked around the room, waiting for the others. to laugh and let him know that the last twenty minutes had all been an elaborate joke and of course they weren't serious.

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, not to mention the anxiety that was clearly present in everyone's scents.

"I guess I'll get packing then," he said, getting up to leave and remove himself from the stench that was building so quickly it was giving him a headache. Fucking knotheads. Not a single one ever had figured out how to use neutralizers and really, that should have been the first sign this arrangement was never going to work out.

Hopefully Niall and Zayn wouldn't mind him crashing on their couch for the foreseeable future, because there wasn't a chance in hell Louis would be staying here a moment longer than absolutely required.

[teachablemomentsblog]

Heart Map: My Sunfire Circle (Part Two)

"The traffic slowly started to inch forward, making me the brand new 4PM, Friday afternoon traffic jam catalyst."

I can pretend like I remember specifics about my work week leading up to Happy Hour, but I’d be lying. At that time, the State of Texas Assessment of Academic Readiness, or STAAR test had come and gone, and we had celebrated our positively trending scores (although not at Carlo’s). I also relished in the fact that the school year was close to finished and I could start applying for jobs closer to home. My MacArthur 9th students and I had an unwritten understanding, like most teachers have with their students at the end of the year, to stay cordial and give some degree of effort for the final two weeks of school and we will make it through together.

The bell rang at 2:35 on Friday afternoon for the students to walk to their buses. I lagged behind, and waited for students to disperse before heading to my car. Charles had given me directions to Carlo’s which was right down the street. I walked through the door to Charles, Lawshe, my buddy Glewwe from across the hall, and a couple other random faces I had seen once or twice in the hallway.

Surprise, surprise, within five minutes, the conversation waned without work as a buffer. And, of course, we all proclaimed through forced chuckles we didn’t want to discuss work! Come on! It’s Friday! Let’s enjoy ourselves! And then the ensuing twenty minutes of forced conversation as we searched for common ground on anything...ANYTHING. Thank God Glewwe had shown up, who avidly followed the Minnesota Timberwolves. At least we could chat about basketball. And I could enjoy the relief of talking to a coworker about something BESIDES work.

Charles noticed my effort to socialize had run its tepid course. After an hour of checking my watch in 10-minute intervals to decide if an appropriate amount of time had passed, Charles sat down next to me.

“Hey man. Thanks for coming out. It wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No way man! This was...fun! I had a great time!” What else do I say? “No, Charles. This was as bad and boring as I thought it would be. But thanks for helping me with my flat!”

He gave me his all-too-familiar smirk as he replied.

“Yeah, I’m sure you did. Haha...well don’t feel obligated to stay if you are ready to go. I know you have the fiance and kid at home.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I mean...I wish I could stay but, I probably do need to head out.”

I quickly said goodbyes and rushed to my Sunfire. (Sorry, Glewwe, for leaving you to fend for yourself.)

From prior experience, I REALLY didn’t want to fight the traffic on Fm1960 at 4PM on a Friday, so I made the ill-fated decision to take the Beltway 8 which connected Highway 59 and Interstate 45, two of the main roads out of Houston. In hindsight, this senseless decision changed me forever. Maybe my happy hour margaritas did more damage than I realized.

No matter which route I took, traffic at 4PM on a Friday was unavoidable. But, at the time, my plan of action seemed like a brilliant idea! And then...Boom! Honk! Honk! Traffic. And not just mild inconvenience that moves molasses traffic. No, I sat idling in standstill traffic in the smoldering Texas sun, stuck in the middle lane, with nowhere to go.

As I mentioned before, my 2002 Pontiac Sunfire had seen better days. It still sluggishly moved me from point A to B, even though the perpetual check engine light did annoy me. Beyond that, its only current issue was its tendency to overheat if idling for too long. And, unfortunately, the traffic continued its standstill. So, I stared in agony as my thermometer slowly tilted further and further up.

When I told this story in class, one kid asked, “Why didn’t you just turn the car off?” Um...shut up...that’s why. 

I didn’t know what to do. I literally had nowhere to turn and had to wait for my car to overheat. I had no idea what happened if my Sunfire actually overheated. I attempted the few feeble troubleshooting tricks I knew, like turning up the hot air to push the heat out of my hood and through my car. It didn’t work. (I learned this unsuccessful tip from an episode of King of the Hill. If only they had gone over changing a flat tire, I wouldn’t be in this mess!) I stared in horror as the thermometer needle tilted towards the red sliver at the end of the gauge. Thankfully, instead of a mushroom-cloud explosion in the middle of the highway, which I halfway expected, the car promptly shut off for the last time and I found myself even more stuck than before. And, naturally, the traffic slowly started to inch forward, making me the brand new 4PM, Friday afternoon traffic jam catalyst.

I tried turning the ignition key three more times, but it had fallen silent. The Sunfire had died. I sifted through my limited options and fell back to my mom’s AAA card. Oh good! Finally a legitimate, non-flat tire excuse to give it a try! I looked out my window and noticed the news chopper surveying the traffic overhead. Even better! My smoking Sunfire had made it on television! This day kept getting better and better.

I called the number on the back of my AAA card and followed the prompters for a tow truck. I did my best to ignore the honking and cursing from the commuters all around me. Cuss and honk all you want, but my Sunfire isn’t un-overheating. With sincere regret in their voice, they informed me it would take roughly an hour before they got through the traffic. I also didn’t feel like any of my fellow motorists were willing to help me push my Sunfire to the shoulder. So, I sat, stuck, with my head down while everyone crawled around me. I did my best to continue to ignore the lewd comments from people as I slowly melted in my car.

Finally, the tow truck carefully sliced its way through the sea of automobiles. They pulled in front of me and reversed to the hood of my car. I opened my door, completely drenched in sweat, and greeted the tow truck guy.

“Oh, thank god you’re here!”

“Yessir! So you’re the one that’s holding up all this traffic?”

“Um, yes that would be me. Do I need to show you my AAA card or anything?”

“What? Oh, no. The police called us. We have to get you out of the road.”

“Wait...I called AAA. They should be here any minute.”

“Sorry, bud. We have to do what the coppers tell us to do. And they told us to get you out of here. It’s a safety issue.”

Since they didn’t work through AAA, AAA definitely wouldn’t pay them. Which meant the bill fell onto me. Great! What a nice finishing touch to my first Happy Hour experience!

I took my ride of shame with the tow truck guy, who impressed me with how great he pretended to empathize with my situation but, of course, didn’t hold back when it came to payment I barely had for the tow.

“Oh, yeah. That does sound rough. Eesh, and a new kid, huh? What horrible timing. Anyways, that’ll be $150 bucks. Of course, I take credit cards.”

Ugh.

I never drove the Sunfire again. It’s so peculiar to think back on it now. To think of the chain of events that led to my car’s demise. Charles taught me to change my flat tire which set in motion my car overheating on Beltway 8 and breaking down for a final time. Funny how that works.

I didn’t hang out with my Mac 9 coworkers again. At least not all together. I finished my final week of school, applied for jobs closer to home, interviewed a couple of times, and finally landed a job at Caney Creek High School, where I’ve worked for eight years. 

After the last day of school, I needed to pick up a handful of items from my old classroom. Charles happened to be in his room. We joked around for a while and took a selfie together to send to Lawshe. And then I left and I never walked through the doors of MacArthur Ninth Grade Campus again. And I never saw Charles again.

A couple years later, December 20th of 2015, I received a call from Lawshe.

“Hey, Lawshe! What’s up!?”

She was crying.

“Charles. H-he passed away.”

“What?”

“He passed away a couple of days ago. Just went to sleep and didn’t wake up. Gannon, he has a wife and a kid. It’s almost Christmas. I don’t know what to do.”

I didn’t know either. We sat silent on the phone for a moment. I don’t fully remember my response as I gathered myself. I told her to please let me know the information for the funeral and I hung up.

I stared at the wall in a daze. The selfie I took with him in the summer a couple of years ago was the last time I would ever see my friend. I felt the weight of my mortality and fragility, since Charles was 41 and I was already in my late 20’s. Time doesn’t wait.

When we gathered for the funeral, it felt bittersweet. On one hand, we all felt the excitement of seeing each other again, if only under different circumstances. The funeral blurred by, but I do remember a conversation with a couple of my friends about the impact of Charles..

“Charles was forever a teacher. That’s what inspired me. Even when he wasn’t teaching, he was teaching.”

I explained to them about my Sunfire and Charles helping me change my flat tire, which led to its retirement.

“And even though it was a bummer with what happened to my Sunfire, I wouldn’t trade that memory for anything. That memory shapes the kind of teacher, the kind of person I hope to be. It gives me something to strive towards.”

Reflecting on it with my students, I tell them I hold onto that teaching philosophy even to this day. And sometimes, I may start a story thinking it’s about one thing but, really, if I give myself the time to think about it, deep down it’s about something much more meaningful.

“So, was this story really about my Sunfire?”

Edmund piped up. “No way, mister. It was about your friend Charles and what he meant to you.”

Absolutely. Sometimes it takes searching our feelings about our memories that shows us what has really shaped us into who we are.

Even though the students may not have necessarily gotten to a point with a story from their own lives that permanently affects them this much, it gives them a starting point and shows that vulnerability is okay. Most great writing starts from a place of vulnerability. Teaching students this concept can prove difficult, so thank you Charles for the lasting impression you have on my classroom and on me.

My Teachable Moments

This one goes without saying,, but don’t take any of your moments for granted. The selfie I took with Charles seemed extremely unimportant and stupid at the time, but now it has turned into the final moment I ever had with him. I still have that picture so I can look to it as a reminder of this philosophy.

Try to put yourself out there. I still regret how I handled myself at Carlo’s restaurant when I wanted to leave. Hell, for all I know, if I had just stuck around a little longer and enjoyed myself I wouldn’t have found myself stuck in traffic and on the 6 o’clock news.

Never stop teaching when people need it. I remember feeling like a very selfish teacher my first year. I didn’t believe in what I was doing. I thought about my wife and baby and made sure I had a paycheck to bring home to them. Charles changed that for me. Even though my first year felt impossible, it reignited my passion to give the world one of the only true things we can offer, our  knowledge and our time.

[writingismylove]

one makes all the difference

Chapter 3: please go to medical

Fox is Concerned, and Adaris finds out something bad.

Warnings: none

Notes: Me updating on tumblr? Who would have thought. I’ll catch up (I said you know. Like a liar). Enjoy!

Chapter below the cut!

Fox jerked awake at the sound of a scream.

Adaris.

He grabbed his blasters and sprinted out of his room with his brothers behind him. The scream had come from the common room which was odd. There wasn't any way to get into the common room except for the front entrance. If an intruder got in, that would mean the intruder defeated all of Fox's brothers that guarded the barracks. Fox refused to think about that until he could see what he was dealing with.

Thorn tore open the common room door, and Fox ran in blasters raised. He looked around but there wasn't anyone in the room except for the general who was clearly hurt.

The general was curled on the floor, groaning with pain and clutching her montrals. Fox felt a surge of anger and protectiveness at the sight.

"Thorn, take Thire and go look for the assassin," Fox snapped. "Stone get security and see if you can find out what happened. Get Hound to help you."

"No need," the general groaned as she used the nearest chair to pull herself up to her feet.

The clones stared.

"Sir you were hurt, and we need to find who did it," said Thorn with no small amount of confusion.

The general grabbed the datapad on the table with one hand, the other still clutching her left montral. "No one got in here. The Guard would never let that happen. I just had a vision and need to go to the Temple."

Fox and his brothers exchanged an alarmed look. The general could barely stand on her own feet and thought she could make it just fine to the Temple? Did the Jedi simply not possess self-preservation?

"General, I don't think you should be going anywhere except for medical," Fox said slowly. "Let us take you there, and we can figure out your... vision."

The general shook her head. "No, I... have to get to the, the Temple. We're all in da-danger."

The general wobbled. Fox dumped his blasters on the table and just barely managed to catch the general before she passed out.

Kriffing Jedi and their kriffing Force osik.

Fox shifted the general so she was sitting comfortably in his arms. He turned back to his brothers. "Send word to medical. Tell them we have a Jedi situation."

After a moment, Fox added, "And ask our chat how you keep a Jedi in medical. I have a feeling ours won't stay."

His brothers saluted and got to work. Fox left the barracks and headed towards medical wondering what Adaris could have possibly seen that left her in such pain.

*

Thorny rose: alright how do you keep a Jedi in medical

T-Rex: you actually got your Jedi into the medbay in the first place???

Aayla's husband: tell us your secrets please

Stoned: oh she didn't go willingly

Monkey: that makes more sense

Pond water: they never go of their free will

Stoned: the only reason our Jedi is even there is because she passed out and Fox carried her to the medbay

Kenobi's bitch: yeah that happens a lot with mine

Chomp: why did she pass out? I didn't think Fox would let his Jedi get away with slacking on the self care

Tire: he doesn't. she had some vision or something. point is how do we keep her there

Pond water: you don't. if she wants to leave she will leave unless you restrain her

Thorny rose: haha yeah no that's Fox's job ;)

traumatized: I will kill you

traumatized: get over here now she's talking

*

Adaris glared at Fox.

"Give me the datapad."

"No," Fox answered calmly.

Adaris groaned. She'd woken up in the Guard medbay twenty minutes ago, and Fox refused to let her leave. He wouldn't even let Adaris have her comm or her datapad so she could contact the other Jedi and tell them about her vision. No amount of pleading was working.

"Fox please, this is serious," Adaris tried again. "We're in danger. I need to get to the Temple so I can investigate my vision."

Fox stared stubbornly back at her. "Your health is also serious. I'm not letting you walk about Coruscant after you woke up screaming then passed out on me." Fox glanced back to where the Guard medic was watching to make sure Adaris didn't try to leave. "Plus I think Syringe would kill me if I let you leave."

Adaris sighed and looked away. She wanted to investigate what she'd seen at once, but she couldn't do it without upsetting Fox at the moment. She definitely did not want to do that. She would just have to wait as much as she hated the idea.

"Sir," Thorn called as he entered the medbay. "I sent Thire and Stone to go get a Jedi. I thought it would be helpful if we had someone who understood this Jedi osik to deal with this."

Fox nodded and turned back to Adaris. "Now, care to explain what you saw and why you think we're in danger?"

Adaris shifted uncomfortably. She didn't want to tell Fox what she'd seen. He was just starting to open up to her, and Adaris didn't want to ruin that. But then again, Fox might let her investigate this if she told him the truth.

"I saw the Temple burning as it was attacked. I ran to protect it, but when I got there, it was the clones attacking the Temple. All of them were shooting down the Jedi." Adaris met Fox's eyes which were wide with horror. "You cornered me, an-and you killed me. That's when I woke up."

No one said anything for several minutes. Then Fox blurted, "But why would we do that? You are the only person who actually cares about our wellbeing. You do so much to help us. Why would we ever hurt you?"

Adaris grabbed Fox's clenched fist from it rested on her bed. She gently opened his fist and held his open hand between both of her own. "You didn't want to do it Fox. In my vision, you were being controlled by something in your head. It wasn't your fault."

Fox tightened his grip on Adaris's hand but said nothing.

"Do you know of anything that would make you do something you didn't want to do?" She asked softly.

Thorn answered instead. "The only person that's ever made us do things we don't want to do is the chancellor." Thorn snorted. "Not like we can remember it most of the time anyway."

"What do you mean?" Adaris asked sharply.

Thorn shrugged. "He gives us orders a lot. We usually don't remember carrying them out unless the orders were meant to be remembered such as orders meant to be punish-"

Thorn cut himself off and stared at the floor.

Adaris growled deep in her throat, ignoring the clones' surprise at the noise. Oh, so the chancellor was the cause of the Guard not remembering things, was he? Adaris would bet her lightsbaers that this was the cause of their migraines as well.

Then an idea came to her.

"Wait a minute, you said you haven't had those issues since my arrival?" Adaris asked, squeezing Fox's hand in an attempt to keep her emotions in check.

Fox nodded stiffly. "That would be correct General."

"That means the chancellor didn't want anyone to know. That's why he never assigned you a Jedi even though every other clone group has one," Adaris said quickly. "You haven't been forced to do the chancellor's bidding because I'm here, and he knew I would notice if he tried something."

The more Adaris thought on this, the more it made sense. The chancellor couldn't give the clones orders without Adaris knowing about it, so he hadn't given them orders. That was why their memories were intact. That was why the Guard hadn't had migraines because the mind control wasn't being activated.

That was why they hadn't been punished since Adaris's arrival. The chancellor knew he couldn't get away with it without Adaris finding out. The realization made Adaris sick.

But this left the question of how. The chancellor had to have some sort of way to compel the clones, and it couldn't just be regular threats. Someone would have sold him out by now if it was. Perhaps some type of programming? But where would it be? How would it work? Was this something isolated to the Guard only, or did this effect all clones? If it was every clone, then every clone across the galaxy could be ordered to kill the Jedi all at once.

And there would be nothing we could do to stop it.

Adaris gasped. This was far more serious than she originally thought if she was right.

"Something wrong, there is?" A voice asked from the medbay doors.

Adaris and the clones turned towards the doors to see Master Yoda standing there with Stone and Thire by his sides.

"Master," Adaris called, "I think I discovered a terrible plot."

Yoda quickly made his way toward her. He stopped a few feet away from her bed. Adaris was so focused on telling Yoda about the chancellor that she didn't notice Yoda glancing at where Adaris was still gripping Fox's hand.

"Describe this plot, you must, young Monki'li," Yoda said calmly.

"I was reading through the laws regarding the Coruscant Guard when I fell asleep. I overheard some of the commanders discussing the chancellor, and their words disturbed me, so I started investigating," Adaris began. "They described having memory gaps, migraines and punishments imposed upon them by the chancellor."

"Hmmm," Yoda said, frowning deeply. "Wrong that is. Do that to the Guard the chancellor cannot. Discover anything else, did you?"

Adaris glanced at Fox before returning to her explanation. "What the commanders described is illegal. The chancellor legally has no authority to do what he did. Much of what he did to the Guard should have been under Fox's authority or the authority of the Marshall Commander. I fell asleep before I could read more. That's when I had my vision."

Yoda, if it was even possible, frowned even more. "Disturbing news this is. A vision you had?"

Adaris nodded. "I saw the Temple burning and being attacked by the clones. They were killing all the Jedi, but they did not want to do it. They were being forced to kill the Jedi."

It was vital that Yoda understood this. Adaris didn't want anyone to think the clones were dangerous and try to send the clones away.  The clones dealt with enough hate on without this osik added on top of it.

"Like this I do not. Investigate this we must," Yoda said. He turned to Syringe who was standing behind him, watching the conversation with wide eyes. "Prepare a scan for the commanders you will. Find the method of control we might."

Syringe saluted and left to prepare the machines.

"Know about this no one can," Yoda said sadly. "Wrong ideas they might get. Harm the clones some may."

"What should I do about this Master?" Adaris asked.

Yoda thought for a moment before answering, "Lead this investigation you will. Join you Commander Fox will. Orders from the chancellor you will not take for some time."

Fox sighed. "General, he'll notice something is wrong if I and my brothers stop doing the duties he assigned us. The Senate will notice too."

Yoda chuckled. "Cover for you, General Monki'li will. Craft a story she will. Very good at that she is. Worry you need not, Commander."

Adaris bowed her head to Yoda. It would not be easy, but she could do it. She would do everything it took to protect the clones. "Yes Master."

*

An hour later, Adaris was staring with pure horror at the results of the scans Syringe took of about fifty members of the Guard. Every single one had the same tumor in the same place. Upon seeing the scans, Fox ordered Syringe to try removing his tumor so they could see what it was. Adaris was sitting outside the operation room while waiting for Syringe to finish taking out Fox's tumor.

Yoda was sitting in the chair beside her. The old master's ears were wilted, and his aura was radiating sadness like Adaris had never felt before. Adaris could tell it was because Yoda felt responsible for not noticing this. He was on Coruscant when the Guard was placed here. Adaris supposed he felt like he should have seen that something was wrong with the clones. It wasn't his fault though.

No, this blame lay with whoever put this tumor inside the clones.

Adaris was looking through the scans for the sixth time when the operation room doors opened. Syringe stepped out looking pale and worried. Adaris was on her feet in an instant.

"What's wrong?"

Syringe looked between her and Yoda then gestured them inside. "I think you better come see this, Generals."

Adaris hurried inside the room and went straight to the table where Fox was laying. He was still unconscious, but he looked okay. The only sign of the procedure was a small bandage on the top of Fox's head. Adaris looked up as Syringe and Yoda joined her.

Syringe plucked something off the table next to him and dropped in Adaris's hand. She looked at the tiny object. It wasn't a tumor.

It was a programming chip.

Adaris felt her blood run cold. She met Syringe's eyes. "What is this?"

The poor medic looked like he was about to cry. "It's a programming chip. Similar to what's in droids but this is intended to control organic beings. Theoretically, anything order or command could be put on this chip."

"Even an order to slaughter all the Jedi," Adaris whispered.

Syringe collapsed into a chair and nodded.

"Remove these all you must," Yoda said to Syringe.

The old master looked more worried than Adaris had ever known him to be. That concerned her more than anything. If Yoda was visibly worried, then things were bad.

"Remove these from every Guard member," Yoda continued. "Contact the other clone medics and commanders you will. Inform them of this you must. Help you, Commander Fox will, when wake up he does."

Syringe stood and saluted. "I'll get started on removing the chips from the rest of Guard immediately sir. General, can you take the commander to a bed for me?"

Adaris nodded and slipped the chip into her pocket. She pulled Fox into her arms and lifted. Her commander was lighter than expected, though Adaris supposed that made sense considering Fox's main diet until her arrival was the odd ration bar or two and at least four pots of caf every day.

Adaris carried Fox to the door but stopped and turned back to Syringe. "Oh Syringe? When you get all the chips out, I want them delivered to me at once. Do not speak to anyone about this. Only explain to the other commanders and medics. This cannot reach the chancellor."

Syringe saluted and said, "Yes sir. Understood."

Adaris turned back to the door and left the operation room with Fox in her arms and Yoda beside her. Once Adaris laid Fox in a bed, Yoda turned to her and spoke.

"Wait with Commander Fox you should," Yoda said. "Talk with him when wake up he does. Use this to search his chip while waiting you will."

Yoda passed Adaris a datapad with a port the right for the chip.

"Used this to investigate the droids I did. Better use for it you have now," Yoda explained.

Adaris nodded and pulled out Fox's chip. "What are you going to do, Master?"

Yoda sighed. "Call the other masters I will. Use our secure channels I will. Explain the situation I shall."

The old master walked to the door. "May the Force be with you, young Adaris."

"May the Force be with you too, Master."

The medbay door shut behind Yoda. Adaris sighed and plugged the chip into the datapad. It was time to get to the bottom of this. As the datapad connected to the chip, Fox muttered in his sleep and started shifting on the bed. Adaris hesitated only briefly before she brushed her hand through Fox's hair. Fox leaned into her touch and calmed down. Adaris kept her hand in his surprisingly soft and slightly curly hair as she began to read through the chip.

Adaris was so engrossed in the chip's contents that she didn't notice Fox wake up a few minutes later. She also didn't notice his shock at her touch through the Force. Fox didn't mind however. He didn't quite feel like joining reality again yet. He fell back asleep a moment later, reveling in the gentlest touch he'd ever felt.

[gaxlayflower]

Underforest-Chapter 4

"Child, put the berries down now, and drink the water." She said to me very calmly and cautiously, as if I had just picked up a snake that could kill her. I sat the berries down on a log nearby and drank the water flowing from a stream nearby. "W-what was that berry? Why are you so scared?" She paced back and forth, biting her nails as if they were the most delicious steak on the planet. "Child, those berries are heavily toxic, and would've killed you in minutes if you hadn't drunk that water." She explained. My eyes became wide at the sound of that. Oh God damn it- Not a second too soon, I fainted right there on the spot.

The awful dreams returned, worse than before. This time, I was the victim. Mercilessly, they tortured me, they killed me. It felt like my world was splitting apart. I called out for help, in the dream world and in the real world (I assumed), but nobody came. Then, after an awful experience of being roasted alive, the world faded away to a small, orange and purple flower. Flowey. The flower turned around, smiled, and said "Howdy!" in a pleasant manner. "Wh-what do you want…?" The flower giggled, and it's face morphed into a human with almost the same face as me, but it had pink blush, and it had a wide smile on its face.

"Aw come on, can't I appear in your dreams every so often, friend?" I shook myself hard, my eyes avoiding the face. "No… NO! You are not welcome here! I yelled at the top of my lungs. "LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU CREEP!" The flower shuffled back, as if taken aback by my choice of words. It quickly changed its face back to the smile. "Fine. But I will be back. I need those souls after all… haha."

The flower disappeared, the world went white, and I woke up. "Oh!" I heard Toriel's voice beside me. "Thank goodness, she's awake! Quickly, Froggit, get her some water." I heard a ribbit as I sat up in bed, only to open my eyes to a large frog sitting on me. "AAAAAA!!" The frog jumped back in surprise, and the cup on its head flipped several times before landing beside me. "O-oh! Froggit, as amazing as that was, we do not surprise people!" I groaned and looked over at Toriel. "What happened…?"

"My child, you seemed to have eaten some poisonous berries.” Toriel said while looking at me. “I am sorry that I have not warned you that some of the berries here are poisonous.” She smiled brightly, "The important thing is that you're okay." Yeah… Anyways. I tried to get up, but she stopped me. “Child, I don’t want you to risk it. The poison may still be in there. Allow me to heal you for a bit.” I nodded, sat back down, and let her heal me.

(Five hours, twenty two minutes, and 4 glasses of water later…)

                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toriel had gone to sleep, and the Froggit and Whimsun had left. I sat there, lying in bed, wishing I could leave. Maybe… there is a way. I slowly got up from bed and tiptoed to Toriel’s room making sure she was still asleep. I snuck out through the front door, past the Froggit in the living room (how it got in, I didn't know), and into the woods. Behind Toriel's house, I found a path, as well as a large archway made of a strange stone. What is this place? "My child. You should not have come." I turned around slowly, only to see Toriel with a somber look, and flames hovering over her hands. “T-toriel?” 

“I know what you have been planning, my child.” I think back to all my attempts to leave. Suddenly, a fireball spins at me. I don't have fast enough reflexes, and I get hurt. Another hits me and….Suddenly everything goes black. Did I faint again? I wake up in front of Toriel's house, and it's still nighttime. What…? Interested. I wondered if I could go back at any time. I went inside the house, then thought with all my heart about going back. It worked, and when I opened my eyes, I was in front of the house. But what exactly happened? When the fireball hit me, did I faint? Did Toriel pick me up and drop me out of the house? But that wouldn’t explain me being able to go back. I put my hand on the door knob but then I heard that maniacal laugh again. I turned around but nothing was there. But then pain shot through me and everything went black again. What happened? Then I heard a voice. The voice of that flower talking about being god. I woke up in front of Toriel's house again and immediately opened the door and went inside. What is happening? This can’t be normal. 

Too confused to figure this out, I ran back to the archway, ignoring the sinking feeling I felt. I ran through the archway, only to be stopped immediately by Toriel. “My child, where are you going?” I was too scared to answer. “You don’t need to speak. I know you want to leave the ruins.” I was going to say something but then she interrupted me. “But I can't let you leave….It’s too dangerous out there.” “Why is it too dangerous?” I asked. “The monsters outside of these ruins will…want to kill you.”  “Why will they want to kill me?” Toriel then laughed softly. “You are very curious! You remind me of somebody….” 

“But….you don’t need to know that…just go back to my home.” I really wanted to know. “But-” Toriel interrupted me. “No buts. Go back to my home NOW.” I stood my ground. “No.”

“Every child who has come, and passed. They all were killed by ASGORE. If you leave… you may be next. Are you willing to risk that?” We were silent, before I looked up. “Yes.” She summoned large fireballs around her. “Then prove yourself.” She spoke with a determination I had never seen before. Toriel then threw the fireballs at me and I attempted to dodge it but one hit me. “Oof!” 

“I don't want to fight you, Toriel!” She didn’t say anything. I dodged another couple of fireballs. “I won’t fight you!” Again, nothing. Another couple of fireballs appeared, and I zipped, ducked, and slid under them. “I won’t!” Toriel looked…confused? “What are you doing?” She attacks me more, with a string of fire balls. “Fight or run away!” She continues to attack, and I continue to not fight. “Stop it.” “Go away!” “...” “I know you want to go home, but please..go back...” 

“We can have a good life here.” 

“Why are you making this so difficult?!”

“...”

“Haha, pathetic, is it not? I cannot even save a single child. No, I understand. It would be difficult to raise you here. The Ruins are very small once you get used to them. My expectations, my fear…”

“Child. Promise me this. Stay safe out there. Don’t be like the others that left me. They met an awful fate… but I believe you have the power to change this land forever.” She smiled one last time, hugged me, and went home, leaving me to the archway.

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