#i am sorry to whoever this may concern

[iamtheoneandonlyever]

Whoever listed The Exorcist (1973) as The Scariest Movie on google and literally everywhere, i wish you a happy fuck you

No offense to anyone, but its a comedy more than a horror thriller? Ok, maybe i have watched too much gore and scary shit in my life but to list THAT as THE MOST HORRIFIC MOVIE? are you a kid?

Coraline is better than it T-T

[catalinaromanoff]

overheated

natasha romanoff x pyrokinetic reader

summary: reader accidentally burns natasha, which causes her to rethink their relationship and their life in general.

(there may be female pronouns scattered in here, but i am not 100% sure.)

warnings: insecurity, mentions of very very slight burn (just redness)

i rest my head on the cold kitchen countertop for a few moments, attempting to get just an ounce of relief from the heat surrounding me.

if you asked me in casual conversation i would say i don’t mind summer. it’s okay; i dont hate it. however, if you asked me on a personal level, i would say i absolutely despise summer. i hate the thought of wearing bikinis, all the bug bites i receive, but i hate the heat most of all. pyrokinetics and heat simply do not mix. ironic, isn’t it?

and so, i press my face harder into the kitchen countertop in the compound for just a bit of relief.

i was currently sitting at the kitchen island. the coolness of the marble surface did provide me with a bit of contrast to my heated skin, but it just wasn’t enough. on top of that it was agonizing listening to my teammates having the time of their lives outside in the compound’s backyard.

some were in the crystal clear water of the immensely big in-ground pool tony had installed while others played a casual game of volleyball.

how i envy them.

however, the people whom i envied the most were the couples outside able to cuddle and kiss each other. my heart breaks a little for my girlfriend when i see laura sitting on clint’s lap on one of the poolside tables knowing we could never do the same.

technically we could, but unfortunately this wasn’t the season to do so. during the winter season me and natasha could cuddle at any time and i would serve as her personal heater. the heat that would emanate from my body would be a nice contrast to the painful coldness of a new york winter.

however, when it’s already around 100 degrees and i am a pyrokinetic that sometimes freaks out and cannot control herself, that leads to accidents.

like this one.

i had banished myself to the kitchen countertop because me and natasha had tried to see if maybe my body temperature wouldn’t flare up like it always did. spoiler alert; it did. natasha had been sitting on my lap with her head in my neck. she began kissing my neck and that’s where i think things began to go downhill.

much of my pyrokinesis revolves around what i’m feeling at the current moment. once i felt natasha’s featherlight kisses on my neck i began to feel things. mostly shy. and so, i slowly began to heat up. eventually things escalated too quickly when natasha bit me. immediately my body became the temperature of the sun and natasha jumped up and away from me.

“ouch!”

i observed as she lightly rubbed her thighs trying to get at least a but of relief. just like i am now. anyway, i could do nothing but watch her knowing i caused this but couldn’t fix it.

“im-im so sorry baby. i’ll go inside. im sorry.”

i quickly get up from my place on the poolside chair, not without noticing the chair had begin to melt a little because of me. it made me feel that much worse.

natasha tried to stop me, but obviously she couldn’t do that much when i couldn’t be touched.

“y/n it’s okay, baby. i’m fine. please don’t go.”

i ignore the concerned expression in my beautiful girlfriend’s face and instead rush to the sliding door separating the big backyard from the avenger’s compound. i thank whoever left the door open in my head as i rush through and close the door behind me.

that brings me to where i am now. a tiny portion of white plastic on my hand from closing the sliding door and a big portion of embarrassment.

i continue to observe the other avengers outside and let out a deep breath.

do i really belong here?

i mean, most of the avengers out there avoid touching me. no handshakes, no hugs, no anything. i understand their fear and apprehension but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. a great deal of them were scared of me and that honestly made my heart break; i didn’t ask to be made this way, so why do i have to suffer the consequences?

the only people who really bothered in trying to get to know me and know when it’s okay to touch me are natasha, wanda, and bucky. they try to understand how my pyrokinesis works and how to prevent meltdowns (haha get it?) like this.

they’ll never truly understand though.

i see wanda talking to natasha and looking back inside at me. i realize almost immediately that she heard my thoughts. dang you, my sexy witch best friend. i see my girlfriend approach the door i had melted not more than 20 minutes ago and slide it open. she makes sure to close it behind her before she sits next to me at the kitchen island.

she looks stunning.

natasha was wearing a simple black bikini, but yet it complimented her so well. it complimented her beautifully sculpted body, her stunning scars scattered around her body, and it just looked right against her sun-kissed skin.

i wish i looked like her.

“hey, how are you feeling?”

i shrug my shoulders.

natasha’s lips form into a straight line on her face as she looks down at her hands. i take this moment to admire her gorgeous face. her cute freckles scattered across nearly every part of her face. that’s one of the things i didn’t mind about summer. nat’s freckles showed up and showed out during the summer.

i decide to speak up. “im sorry.”

nat’s head snaps up at the words of my timid apology.

“honey you have nothing to apologize for. i know that was an accident and i shouldn’t have pushed you that far.”

“no, about everything.”

natasha furrows her brows and her confusion slowly grows. she timidly inches her fingers toward my thigh. she checks my temperature to make sure she can touch me. im lukewarm. she puts her hand on my right thigh with her left hand. that gives me the courage i need to say the next words.

“im sorry for being such a bad girlfriend. i see how you look at other couples and their pda and stuff. you should just break up with me. i mean we can’t even have.. um.. sex without me freaking out and burning you. i just don’t think im lovable and im definitely holding you back from having your dream relationship. maybe you should try dating banner. i hate his guts but you’ll probably be happier with him than you’ll ever be with me.”

an uncomfortable silence fills the room. i bring my arms up on the countertop and stuff my face into them.

we both breathe in the silence for a while. i know natasha doesn’t know what say; i mean what can she say? that everything will be alright? that we’ll be able to do normal couple things one day? she would be lying to my face.

“y/n, look at me.”

i sink deeper into my seat. i feel hot tears begin to pour out of my eyes. i can no longer feel natasha’s touch on my thigh.

i let out a sob. im pathetic.

“baby, please look at me.”

i shake my head.

“fine. y/n, i love you so much. your pyrokinesis will never change that because i didn’t fall in love with your body temperature, but with your personality. you didn’t deserve what those cruel people did to you but unfortunately you cannot change your story. and sure maybe i get a twinge of sadness watching other couples, but i love our connection more than any pda or hugs or touches. i love the way you assure i feel loved without having to touch me all the time. you are more than your pyrokinesis. i will keep saying that until you get it. because it’s true; nothing will ever change that. you are worth the moon and stars to me.”

i feel tears begin to flow down my cheeks. i sit up and look at natasha. i gaze into her eyes for a few seconds but immediately look away. playing with my hands, i utter something under my breath in hopes she won’t hear me.

natasha inches her face closer to mind and kisses my tears away. she pulls back smiling and stares at me knowingly when she feels me heat up a bit.

“what was that honey? i can’t hear you.”

this time i make tiny flames from my fingertips and decide to speak up a little more.

“i said, i love you too.”

natasha smiles at me knowing i do appreciate what she has said, but i’m just too shy.

“natasha, i love you so much you don’t even know. and if i could control myself i would tell you more, but i think if i do i’ll start crying and melt this chair.”

at that natasha giggles and grabs my chin to kiss all over my face.

“heyy! you’re gonna get me riled up!”

i swat her face away. she begins to laugh and i stare at her, confused.

“babe, your face is literally as red as my hair!”

“okay, that’s not fair. you’re such a bad girlfriend.”

i roll my eyes and jump off of my chair, heading towards the sliding door to go back outside.

“you sure you wanna go back outside? if you want to we can stay inside and cool you down. i can ask tony to order us some ice-cream. fuck, we can even get you an ice bath.”

i look back at natasha and shake my head while giggling.

“that’s fine, i want you to enjoy yourself. cmon.”

i wait for my girlfriend to join me and we make our way back outside.

everything turned out fine, for today. there were still a few accidents. unfortunately that’s the reality behind being an enhanced human. we will always make mistakes and have accidents, but that’s what reminds us we are still human.

i am still human, and still lovable.

a/n: this is my first work so be kind lol!! but let me know if you guys have any requests or want me to continue this series (?). honestly this isn’t proofread, the ending was lowkey rushed, and it’s nearly 3am so if it’s dookie that’s why lol. but yea, thank you for reading if you made it this far!

word count: 1.6k

[shirefantasies]

Hey! Recently finished LotR for the first time and just wanted to thank you for sharing so much amazing writing with the fandom!

I was wondering, after reading the how many children they’d like hcs, if you’d be comfortable writing some characters(personally requesting Legolas and Eowyn, but whoever you’d wish of course!) meeting their(/them and their partner’s if they already have children ofc) firstborn!

Either way! Tysm for reading and have an amazing day!!

Forgot I had one more finished draft lmao sorry everyone🤙🏻 here's one more post

Bro OF COURSE I love doing parent AU stuff!!! This is such a cute imagine omg. Also thanks for the kind words & welcome to the fandom 🥰 consider this part 2 of the pregnancy headcanons~

Warnings: some descriptions/mentions of childbirth/labor pain/blood (not too graphic though!)

LoTR Characters Meeting Your First Child Together (Wife!Reader)

Aragorn

Concern paints your husband's handsome features, furrowing his dark brow and glittering deeply in his blue eyes at your sudden, frantic motions. You are too quiet, too focused. Hiding something, perhaps? "What troubles you?" Aragorn asks, moving to your side, a hand caressing your shoulder as he breathes your name. Eyes widening, you start for a moment before deflating in a sigh. "I think the baby is coming. But I did not wish to worry you until I was certain, until I had more prepared and-" Saying your name, this time a little more firmly and a lot more lovingly, Aragorn takes your hand. "Worry me? Cast all your worries upon me. I am your husband. My heart is yours, and my service. Come, we will go to the healing halls at once."

~

Aragorn smooths your hair, wincing as you cry out and calmly whispering encouragement. He quiets you down as the pain and stress wash over you in nearly blinding waves, your body writhing with each push. Hours pass like this, Aragorn your one anchor until finally, blessedly, your body can fall limp against your sickbed and pant and sigh in relief, the babe proclaimed healthy and taken to be soothed and cleaned. "What a marvel. Truly you prove strength beyond measure every day. Beyond that, I simply love you more every day," he adds with a smile. Leaning up to kiss him, you fix your husband with tired eyes, loving gaze broken only by the midwives' calls. "My king," they say, "a son was born to you! The prince of Gondor!" "A son," you repeat, finally breaking back into a grin as you accept your little boy. Aragorn looks down upon him too with as wide a smile, greeting him in Elvish. "My son," he says, "how loved you are, and how blessed are we your parents. May you grow strong, healthy, happy, our little gift."

Legolas

Even as far as you had gotten, an unspoken fear had crept up between you and your husband until the very day of your labor, but your twins held fast. Such a thought echoed through your mind as much as you could bear to will it between the waves of pain. They held fast, and so would you, your husband at your side stroking your head and holding your hand, whispering calming words in the language of his people. Through tears, you smiled at the beautiful sound, at Legolas's constant reminders that you are strong, you are the most amazing gift the prince has born witness to in hundreds of years. He reminded you to look into his eyes as you were urged to push harder, your hips burning like never before...

~

"A son. A son and a daughter,” Legolas breathed, pulling you and both your twins into a gentle embrace. “And my wife. What more could I desire? Nothing. Nothing indeed.” You feel moisture, realize a tear has slid from Legolas’s eye to your hand, and reaching up you dry his eye before bringing your hand down to stroke the side of his face. You can feel the bags of exhaustion circling your eyes and your whole body aches, but all you can do is smile, smile until your face is just as sore; with your aching pleasure glowing throughout you nuzzle the babe in your arms, your son. “Our dreams are finally reality, Legolas. I would ask for no more either.”

Boromir

"What for it? What can I do?" Boromir is less calm than you expected at your sudden pain, the downward rush you can only assume is the baby coming. Not that you have told him that already. "Let us go to the healers." You try to steady your breathing, praying your water will hold out and break only upon entry to the home of the dear friend you'd selected to aid in your birth. Grateful are you for the grasp of your husband’s hand and the strength with which his arm raises you, tugging you against him for support, even if you feel his heart racing like mad when your hand falls against his chest.

~

For hours you toiled, your body rent and torn in creative horror as Boromir tried his best with jokes and sweet words to keep your wits about you… for far shorter hours than usual in your friend’s words. “I find that hard to believe,” you panted as she cleaned the child. “No, truly that was quite amazing,” your friend shot back, stepping back your way with a bundle in her hands, “We’ve had them take twenty hours before. Five is quite fast I daresay.” Every orifice in your body cried out with pain, so all you could do was incline your head until you raised it again, saw the child in her outstretched arms and felt your lips part in amazement. Eyes still closed, your child groped for you, stilling a bit in satisfaction upon your acceptance, feeling the weight fall and rest gently upon your chest. “Impatient little man and with some fire too! He fought against cleaning quite well.” “Little man?” Boromir’s head snapped so rapidly up to your friend and back to your baby you thought he might snap something. “We have a son?” “Indeed you do, you old dog, you,” she grinned. “It’s a boy!” He shouted gleefully, one hand resting firmly between your son’s and the other cupping your cheek and yanking your lips to smash against his. When Boromir pulled away, he laughed aloud, hearty and triumphant. “Bless him and bless you for giving him to me! I never knew I could be this happy, love!” Your smile widened to match his grin. Suddenly your pain didn’t seem quite so bad.

Gimli

“Push! Push!” “Am I not?!” You reply, uncaring of the raise of your voice or the vice of your hand about your husband’s. For his part and quite in spite of himself, Gimli must laugh, for such was the fire that stole his heart some time ago and the fire from which your newest love was forged- though not without some trouble first. Chip off the ol’ block, indeed! “That’s it, that’s it,” the healer encouraged, “yer doin’ great, lassie!” “Doesn’t feel like it!” Even as he winces in pain by your iron grip, Gimli chuckles again.

~

“A healthy little lad!” Six more hours have passed, but finally he’s in hand and you won’t give him up for anything. Except Gimli- he is the only one to survive your death glares when he reaches for your son, and pushing some hair off his shoulder he gently extends his arms further when you acquiesce. His lips part in an o of endearment and shock at your son, crying moments ago but now laying peacefully in his father's arms. Breaking into a wide smile, Gimli stares down with moist eyes and it is like time is frozen. “My son,” he half-declares, half-sobs. His gaze tears from the babe after a minute or two only to meet yours and bring a wide, triumphant smile to his face. "And most importantly, son of the fairest this earth has yet set forth, she who gave herself that he should be here. You did wonderful, my love. Thank you." "Thank you for being his father," you reply, "and for loving me through it all, even when I was quite ugly about it." "Ah..." Gimli replies diplomatically, "you were in a great deal of pain." Of course he forgives you, he worships the ground you walk on, after all, and you have just gifted him the honor of a son, a little flame all his own! And who, the dwarf suspects with another smile, shall look a lot like his father too!

Frodo

Frodo walked you all the way to the bed and laid you down by himself before he would finally relinquish any care of you to the midwife, despite the fact that he had selected her. You knew it was borne of no distrust of her, however, only a sign of the immense care in his heart he felt for you and the sum of all the kindnesses done upon Frodo in his most difficult years. When you love someone, after all, you carry them up a mountain. You lay them down and take their hand and kiss their forehead, telling them you will never leave them in their greatest pain. Just as your husband now did, just as he spoke upon cradling you close, grip only tightening as you cried out in pain.

~

"You're doing so well," Frodo encouraged during your last pushes, stroking your sweat-beaded forehead, "This is almost over." Indeed it was, for minutes later your final whimper broke Frodo's heart, sending spikes of dread shooting down his spine until a new set of cries stopped them cold. "She's here," the midwife tells you, standing up and fetching the cloths she'd dunked earlier. "A girl," Frodo breathes, "A little girl!" "Our little girl," you agree, reaching out to accept the tiny babe. Frodo's heart melts at her now-calmed face, the way her tiny eyelids flutter and the spray of tiny dark curls already visible on her head. "Hello there," he whispers, "my beautiful little girl. Never did I think my heart could give any more, and yet here it is, doubly taken."

Sam

"What's wrong? You look a little peaky. Here, why don't we-" "Sam, I'm fine. I just think I twisted my- hngh!" Crumpling in half with a grunt of pain you cannot even complete your sentence. Sam is rushing to your side, taking your hand and leading you back to your shared bedroom. "Shh, shh, it's going to be ok, you'll see. I'll get the midwife and she'll know everything to do, alright?" Sam's green eyes are warm as ever, his tone the sweetest and most soothing thing you've ever heard and ever will. Despite the waves of pain and the gush you begin to feel soaking the sheets around you, you find yourself nodding and willing up a faint smile.

~

"You're a strong lass, aren't you?" The midwife remarks as Sam returns to the room with more boiled water, looking at you with wonder in her pale blue eyes. Panting, you manage to reply that you suppose so with a faint smile of amusement before being wracked with the pain of another contraction. The only thing that keeps you going is the way your husband is there, leaving only to help you both before tumbling back against the bedframe to grip your hand, never once losing his smile even as you crushed the life out of him. It feels like a lifetime and yet no time before cries fill the room, your head immediately whipping to Sam's and meeting the tears spiling from his kind, loving eyes. "You did it," he whispers your name with awe, kissing your head, then your cheeks sweetly and softly again and again until the midwife is ready with your bundle of joy. "She's beautiful," the older hobbit comments, handing your baby off to you and beaming as you pull your daughter into your chest, loosening her swaddle enough to see her peaceful face. "Lovely," Sam replies, tone even more awed now despite its faint sob, "she looks like her mother. Her mother who worked so hard. Look, she has your hair." "She sure does," you agree, "but I hope she got your eyes." "Nah," he shook his head, "that can be the next one. I love that she's the spitting image. You've earned it after all that, I fear." You laugh at that, still smiling down at your daughter's face, which is still red and calming from her cries of alarm. "That I have. But the only reason I could at all was because of you, Sam." Tears falling anew, he shakes his head one more time. "The thanks are all yours. I knew you could do it all along. It's 'cause of you we have our little beauty."

Merry

"Come on, come on, that's it," Merry coaxed, lowering you down into the squatting position you'd asked for. Inside he was screaming bloody murder, but it was no good letting you know that, not when he had a duty to do and the most important one at that. No indeed, courage was far beyond necessary. Just as he'd had on the battlefield, he was to have with you. For you. Merry only could thank his lucky stars that you began your labor at home while he was there. Once you'd gotten settled, he reluctantly began to pull away his hand from yours, face falling at the way your fingers trembled. "I'm just going to get help. I'll come right back for you." "I know," you whispered with a smile, and just as it had been broken Merry's heart was up and skipping beats.

~

What a good sport the midwife was, for she had been in the middle of her afternoon tea when Merry found her, but never had he seen a napkin thrown down so fast. She rushed with him back to you and found you there still squatting and wincing, this time with sweat beading upon your brow. For hours there you remained, flanked on both sides by husband and midwife, until suddenly your skirts were lifted even further and the lady was calling "He's out!" You cried out in pain and relief and Merry just laughed and gave a big smile before remembering you, looking down at you with great concern. At that, you gave a chuckle of your own. "Sounds like we have a son, Merry." "We have a-" "Certainly you do and quite a big one! Here, you can hold him if you like, but not after the missus has a turn," the midwife cut in, laying your son in your arms. Merry's jaw positively dropped at the sight of him, and he leaned down to speak at once. "Hello there, little one. It's me, your dad. You remember the sound of my voice, don't you?"

Pippin

“Pippin, it’s time.” “Time? Time for what?” You loved your sweet, wonderful, clueless husband, but now was simply not the time. “The baby is coming! Get my supplies, please.” Your command came out as more of a whimper, your face twisting into a grimace at the feeling of moisture trickling down your leg. Water’s broken, then. Pippin caught sight of this, paled, and tore off down the hall, a crash sounding and a handful of stomps before he emerged again, bag slung over his shoulder and a pile of rags in one hand. "You know, for your..." "Yes, I know," you nodded, smiling in faint amusement as he took hold of your arm, barely giving you any time to straddle the rags at all.

~

"Push!" "What am I doing, then?" Your reply shattered Pippin, for it dripped with no sarcasm, only broken tears as you struggled with the pains of labor. The midwife shed a tear of her own, promising you did well, but this went on for hours until suddenly, finally, cries pierced the room's tense air and a massive smile spread across Pippin's face. "You did it!" A loud, triumphant laugh. "You did it, my love!" "She sure did," the midwife agreed, handing the babe off to another older hobbit and chuckling at the way Pippin's open hands followed them. "Don't worry your head off, he's just getting cleaned up." "He? It's a boy! Love, it's a-" "I heard," you grinned, "A little mini-Pippin. Just what I always wanted." "Are- are you joking?" "No," you shook your head, accepting your son with open, grabbing hands, "Not at all. Oh, look, he really does look just like you, too! Oh, Pippin!" Another little Pippin. This time hopefully not one who'll make the same mistakes. No. No, he won't, because he'll have the big one to guide him. And you, oh, his lovely wife... "Pip, are you crying?" "Of course I am," he replied in a quiet, awe-filled voice, leaning to press his curly head to yours, "Our son. Yours and mine. What a glorious gift you've given me. I'm going to work every day to pay you back."

Faramir

Faramir would have given anything to escape the meeting he had become entrenched in, the droning on about some law or another that- Slam! A messenger came bursting in through the door, one of the young page boys whom Faramir had sent notes off with. Rather than pass a message, though, the young man strode right over to his seat and leaned in to whisper to him. Feeling his face contort in shock, then a smile, Faramir rose from the chair at once. “My apologies, gentleman, but my wife has gone into labor. I will review all notes taken at my earliest convenience.” So it seemed the twins inherited their mother’s sense of humor.

~

Watching you strain and hearing your ragged breaths, listening to every cry of pain, stabbed Faramir in the heart with a hurt of his own. He never let go of your hand for a moment, though, despite the ache in those muscles as well. For hours he whispered you words of encouragement, reminding you that you were his hero and that you were doing great, even if it didn’t feel such. And finally your grip was tightening one final time, one final cry of pain as the second twin was born. First your daughter had come. “A girl!” Faramir breathed. “We have a daughter.” And with that last push Faramir himself caught your son. “A son as well. Two beautiful children.” Tears welled up in his eyes, which quickly turned to you as your son was cut free, lifted from his arms, and cleaned. Thumb stroking over the back of your hand, Faramir leaned over, head resting against yours. His stubble tickled your face as he shifted to press a kiss to your cheek. “We got the most difficult one out of our way first, hm?” You joked. Breaking into a tearful grin at your words, Faramir nodded.

Eomer

He should never have agreed to ride out on that patrol, but the others were pushing harder than usual and Eomer knew they trusted him. Trust went far in the Riddermark. Hence his shouts of frustration upon returning to a herald rushing his way and telling him that you had gone into labor. Luckily only about an hour and a half back. He had plenty of time. Running to the halls of healing and all but throwing open the great doors, Eomer barreled in and was met with your smile, then your cry for him, to which he ran to your side and took your hand at once.

~

"It's a boy," he panted hours later, hand aching from your grip and mind fatigued by pained screams, "our son is here." How in this world could you have endured it all if it drained even a bystander so? What a warrior you were. And what a warrior your son would be! Taking in the cleaned babe being placed in your arms, the enamored smile upon his beloved wife's face, the great rush of joy finally overtook him, all pain and exhaustion melting away for a brief moment. "Our son is here!" He called out again, this time louder, more triumphant, and when you spoke it also in your softer tone Eomer pulled you gently by the back of your head into a kiss that spoke volumes, every year of your love story thus far and all of them to come.

Eowyn

The pains of birth were no stranger to your wife; in fact, Eowyn recognized them before you did, cutting into your panic that something was going wrong with the reassurance that things were going quite right. “Our baby is coming,” she told you with a small smile that quickly faded back down when your knees buckled. She was prepared for this, very prepared. Having been forced into work as a nurse for so long had some benefits, after all, and very quickly your things were in hand, your body settled into the most comfortable position possible, and your wife rolling up her sleeves and pulling back her hair to get to work. Her own child would not be the first she had delivered, simply her favorite by far. Spikes of pressure fought their way up Eowyn’s chest, but just like in the heat of battle they spurred her on and she got to work with renewed courage.

~

“You are doing so well, my love, there we are,” your wife coaxed, “almost done, in fact! Our little one is almost here!” “Really?” You smile widely before your next wince and Eowyn can see her words have encouraged you. You pushed with all you had, and crying out finally forced the head, then finally the whole of your child, out into the world. Eowyn cut the baby free quickly as she could, all her focus tied down to making sure she heard breath before she let herself truly look. At the first call of little lungs she sighed and collapsed down upon her knees, hugging the baby to her chest. “Healthy, perfectly healthy.” Hurriedly cleaning your child, Eowyn saw that you had delivered a girl. “You’ve birthed a healthy girl. We have a daughter, my love!” Hearing you sob, she hurried quickly over to your side. “We both did,” you told her, reaching out to caress your daughter’s reddened cheeks, “Both her mothers birthed her. Where would I be, after all, without you?” It was Eowyn’s turn for tears to fall at your words, smiling as she was when you pulled her close and kissed the crown of her golden head.

Haldir

Long, difficult months had led to the moment of your doubling over with the first pains of birth, hobbling out to where you could find a hand to lead you to the midwives. You were half-knelt at the side of a bed, gripping its post for dear life, when your husband burst in. “Your patrol,” you inquired between waves of pain. “Safely in the hands of another,” Haldir responded, hand groping for one of yours, hastily taking it, “and no, they blame neither of us. Nothing but the pain of death could have separated me from your side.” A smile crossed your face, but moments later another wave of pain split your smile into a cry of agony. “The little ones are coming very rapidly,” one of the midwives told you, “your labor will not be long, at the very least.” At that, you heard Haldir exhale in relief. After such difficultly carrying them, your struggles with the twins would soon abate. Soon they would be in your arms.

~

True to her word, the midwife saw you through every push of labor in just under three hours’ time, one of the fastest she had seen in her many years. Haldir’s grip upon your hand never faltered until the very moment one of the twins was placed wrapped up in his arms. The other held by you, exhausted, shocked, but joyous, tears of relief and celebration flowing. “Two daughters. Two fair and healthy little souls all our own,” Haldir remarked, his voice barely above a whisper and a stunned smile upon his lips as he glanced back your way. The moment your eyes met, tears fell from his, too, and you both let out another exhale in relief; shifting the little one in his arms, Haldir grasped your hand. Smiling up at your husband, despite every strain of pain and exhaustion upon your body, all you could feel was the glow of utter triumph and bliss. “I have said it countless times, I am sure, but you my fair maids have my sword, my word, my heart, my everything,” Haldir told you, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your head, then that of the baby girl in your arms.

Galadriel

How Galadriel managed to remain so calm amidst your heaving breaths and calls of alarm, amidst a healer and midwives forgetting their place and trying to move her from your side, surrounded by bodies and screams and heat and fluid so serene, you would never understand. The way you’d doubled over in the middle of your wife’s vision, failing to smother the choked cry that escaped your lips, and she’d simply risen from the water with wide eyes and a nod, taking your hand. Had she let go? Not as you could recall, though memories blended and faded through great waving curtains of pain. Your strength is beyond admirable, my love. Head swiveling to meet your wife’s intense blue gaze, you smiled faintly. Comparable only to your beauty, her voice teased in your mind. Smile growing, the rush of joy gave you strength for another push…

~

“A daughter,” Galadriel breathes your name, joy permeating every faint crack of her so even voice, “you have borne us a daughter!” You see her extend a hand, accept a cloth you assume shall dry your little one off, but the midwife swipes your newborn for a moment and your wife dabs your tears, then the sweat clinging to your forehead. Setting the small piece of white fabric on the table by your head, Galadriel lets her hand drop down to trace the curve of your cheek, the ring you placed upon her finger some years back on your wedding day sliding over it with a pleasant cool. Your daughter, clean and swaddled, is placed in your arms, and beaming down upon you, your wife takes your hand. “A beautiful gift unlike any this world has seen,” she speaks out loud this time, though it is a whisper, “and surely with a heart as strong as her mother’s.”

Arwen

Pain rushed to you so rapidly it was as though you were stabbed. Crumpling and crying out was how your wife found you, rushing in with skirts held at her sides and dropped just as quickly so Arwen’s hands could close around both of yours, words of worry followed by encouragement whispered between you. Her father was the greatest healer you knew, thus he was to aid in his grandchild’s birth, the first of his family. Elrond was calm when through the veil of your pain you saw your wife bring him into the room, brows faintly furrowed as he pulled back his sleeves. Your hearing practically faded- or was it simply your memory?- as he began giving quiet but firm commands to another elf that followed.

~

Vision blurred with tears, you fell back against the downy pillow, breathing ragged. Much as Lord Elrond could do for you, the pain was still great. "The cord is severed!" You heard him announce and your head snapped back up to see your son in his grandfather's arms, hear him wail as breath filled his lungs. "Our little boy," Arwen grips your arm, grinning down at you, "He is here! Go on, Ada, keep us waiting no longer." Shaking his head at her teasing, Elrond gave you a wide, tearful smile as he lowered your son. Smoothing his dark hair, Arwen gazed down at him with loving eyes before leaning over to you, kissing your lips with such love and joy both of you were smiling into it. "My dearest love, he is so beautiful. Just like his mother."

Elrond

"My lord, your wife-" Lindir needn't say more. Elrond is already gathering up his robes and abandoning entirely the parapet on which he stood, regretting leaving you for a moment even if you had insisted he take some time while you rest. Hurrying down the staircase to your shared room, Elrond finds you sitting bolt upright in bed, brows furrowed and hand resting upon your middle. "I must get to the-" "No," calm as he is, Elrond seems to have developed a habit of interruptions, he thinks, "the midwife will come to you. Lindir?" "Sending for her now, my lord." At Elrond's side, you whimper. All too well does he remember this anguish; nodding, he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Lie still. You will be well."

~

Thank the Valar for healing magic; soon your screams melt into whispers shared between you and your husband and winces become faint, tired smiles. Elrond feels the strain of each push upon you, but marvels at your strength, the midwife all but telling you to slow down. "I beg your pardon," you reply, gritting your teeth, "but I must be free of this!" And free you are, for not long later cries fill the air and tears of relief and joy spill down your cheeks. Elrond caresses your face and meets your eyes with a tearful smile; never does this moment stale, in fact nothing in this world can compare. As soon as the bundle is placed in your hands, you hold your newborn out between you, Elrond taking hold and reaching out his other hand, which your daughter grasps. "She looks just like her mother," he tells you with a smile. "But hopefully she inherited her father's wisdom," you tease back with a tired grin.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🩷

[hockeyboistrash]

beautiful things | q.h

a surprise quinn fic by me? who would've though? not me? anyway this idea popped in my head today. it does talk briefly about body image as this is something i struggle with sometimes. i want everyone to know that you are beautiful. no matter what anyone says. if this is something you do struggle with you are not alone. i am always here to talk 😊 any way i hope you all enjoy this mini fic 💖

summary: you are feeling a little self concious. quinn is there to help make you feel better.

Coming here was a bad idea. You knew you should’ve stayed home when your gut told you so. You just didn’t want to disappoint Quinn. He was so excited to go out tonight and introduce you to his friends. The two of you have only been seeing each other for just over a month, not even at the labelling point of your relationship, so you were a little hesitant but Quinn’s comforting smile eased your worries. You walked into the bar holding Quinn’s hand and everyone’s eyes were on you, well at least that's what it felt like. It was to be expected though, what with Quinn being captain of the Canucks. 

You tried to ignore the stares and the whispers but as the night went on you could feel the shield you put up starting to crack. The final blow was delivered when you walked past the group. ‘I wonder what he sees in them’ ‘It must be because he feels sorry for them’ ‘It won’t last, mark my words’. Your eyes started to well up but you refused to let them see you cry so you held your head up high and carried on to the bathroom. Once inside the dam inside you broke. Tears spilled down your cheeks. It was futile to wipe them away as more would fall. 

You hated that you let their words affect you. You were doing so well lately, feeling good in your body. Now though, you wanted nothing more than to curl up in your duvet and shut the world out for a bit. The knock on the door brought you back to reality and reminded you that you couldn't do that yet as you were still at the bar. “Just a minute.” You shouted hoping that whoever was knocking would give up and go to another stall. 

“Y/N, it’s Quinn. Are you alright in there? I noticed you were gone a while. One of the girls saw you rush off to the bathroom.” Quinn said through the door. You could hear the concern laced in his voice. This was the last thing you wanted, for Quinn to see you have a pity party in the bar bathroom over some words that some random girls said about you. 

“I’m okay.” You tried to assure him but your voice failed you. Quinn immediately perked up, knowing you had been crying.

“No offence but I don’t believe you one bit, Y/N.” He said. “Please can you let me in.” You were reluctant to let Quinn see you like this but you knew he wasn’t going to give up. Rather than continuing the conversation through the door so the whole bar can hear you unlock the door, opening it enough to let Quinn in. He immediately noticed your red eyes from crying which broke his heart. You may have only been seeing each other for about a month but seeing you upset was something Quinn wanted to never see again. “What happened?” He asked, cupping your cheeks so you looked at him.

“It's stupid.” You mumbled. 

“It’s not stupid if it makes you upset.” Quinn’s voice was soft and patient, making you feel warm inside. 

You could feel the knot inside you loosening and the words spilling out of you. You relayed everything you heard those girls say about you and how they made you feel self conscious. You opened up to Quinn in a way you haven’t done before. His presence was calming and made you feel safe. 

“Like I said, it’s stupid.” You tried to tell him but Quinn shook his head vehemently.

“You know none of that is true, right?” He told you, his gaze intently on you. “You are the most beautiful person I have laid eyes on. You are kind and funny and honestly, this past month with you has been incredible.” 

“Quinn…”

“Look, I know you might not feel it right now but I will remind you every single day if I have to.” Quinn said. “You are beautiful. No matter what anyone tells you.” 

“Thank you.” You mumbled against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. All the words those girls threw at you, replaced by Quinn’s loving ones.

[ily-fictional-women]

The Monster I am

Summary: After an argument Wanda realizes she may be the monster everyone says she is. 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: Arguing and mentions of blood

Word count: 1112

a/n: Surprise! Not dead! The fanfiction writer curse is just very real. Anyways here’s some hurt comfort for y’all. (Reblogs are welcome and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged, but please no translating.)

As Y/n and Wanda rode the Quinjet with the rest of the team coming back from a mission the negative energy between the two was obvious. Trying to somewhat make amends Wanda began inching her hand towards Y/n’s since she was still sitting next to her. But as soon as her hand grazed Y/n’s Y/n quickly moved her hand away not in the mood for any type of contact. 

Landing at the compound Y/n was the first one to grab her duffle bag and quickly make her way back to the bedrooms with Wanda following her. It doesn’t take long before Wanda is knocking on the door pleading with Y/n her. 

“Y/n, sweetheart please open the door. I just want to talk.” With no response, Wanda could feel a lump grow in her throat. She manages to slip out a joke, “Uh, you know this is my room too right?” Y/n finally opens the door but Wanda is met with a serious expression. “How are we supposed to talk Wanda? You have been getting yourself needlessly hurt to do what? Protect me?”  

Wanda could feel her eyes start to brim with tears but she moved closer to Y/n anyways. “Yes Y/n! That’s all I’ve been trying to do! I love you!” Y/n presses her hands against her face in frustration, “Well then maybe you need to stop Wanda. It seems like you’re forgetting I signed up for this job too. And when you’re too focused on me you’re putting our teammates in danger!” 

Wanda inches closer to Y/n again, “I can’t lose anyone else!” Wanda’s voice softens, “I’ve lost my mother, father, and brother. If I lose one more person I love I don’t know what will happen to me.” Y/n bites the inside of her cheek trying to figure out the right thing to say. 

“I know that Wanda, and I understand that. But that’s also not an excuse to endanger the lives of people I care about.” Wanda lifts up a hand to caress Y/n’s cheek, but at the speed she did it Y/n flinches back. The one simple motion stopped any tears Wanda had in her and replaced them with a special mixture of hurt and anger. 

“Did- did you think I was going to hit you?” Y/n stammers holding back tears of her own, “I- I don’t know.” Wanda clenches her fists trying to hold in any type of intense feelings. 

“Answer. The. Question.” 

“Wanda…” Y/n looks down at something but Wanda can’t be concerned with it. She screams at the top of her lungs, “Just tell me!” She hears a loud thunk. Opening her eyes Wanda first sees blood on the dresser that Y/n was standing in front of. Looking down Y/n is lying on the floor blood begins to stain the grey carpet. 

Lastly looking down at her own hands Wanda notices remnant wisps of red energy circling her hands. She did this. Immediately kneeling over Y/n she pressed her hand against the wound on Y/n’s head trying to stop the bleeding. Tears started to pour from her eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” her voice began to crack. “I’m sorry, please. Please don’t go. Don’t leave me. Not yet.” Someone not too far away was calling Wanda but she couldn’t bear to turn around. She just looked down at her blood-stained hands. Whoever is calling her is getting closer, maybe the world is right. Maybe she is something that needs to be contained. 

The person calling her was right behind her now. “Wanda. Wanda?” As she turned around to see who it was she switched spots with Y/n. Except she wasn’t bleeding or on the floor. She was in bed, with Y/n sitting up staring at her concerned. She can feel Y/n resting a hand on her cheek wiping away a few tears. 

“What was it this time?” Compared to the dream Y/n’s tone was softer, warmer, and more comforting. Trying to ground Wanda a little more Y/n began to move her hand from Wanda’s cheek grazing her arm before slipping her hand under Wanda’s shirt drawing shapes into her back with her fingertips. 

Wanda sits up slightly running a hand through her hair. “We were arguing about me being overprotective of you.” Y/n looks down at Wanda’s hands as she begins playing with Y/n’s free hand avoiding any form of eye contact. 

“Is that it? You were crying a lot this time. You don’t have to tell me anything of course. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Wanda bites the inside of her cheek worried what Y/n may think. 

“When we were arguing you flinched probably thinking I was going to hit you. And I lashed out because of that. I lost control of my powers and hurt you.” Wanda’s eyes begin to well up with tears again as she lets go of Y/n’s hand examining her own in slight fear. “I think I killed you.” 

“Hey, look at me.” Y/n tilts Wanda’s head up meeting her eyes before gently grabbing her hands and kissing them a few times. “It was just a nightmare. Nothing else. I know you would never hurt me. You are amazing in so many ways I can’t explain.” 

“You don’t think I’m overprotective?” Y/n cracks a smile, “No. I think you’re protective of me the same way you are with anyone else on our team. Maybe just a little bit more than them if we’re in a really dangerous situation. But I don’t think you’re overprotective. And even if you were I would understand why. You’ve lost a lot of people you care about. I’d never argue with you over something you feel.” 

Wanda lets out a deep breath finally starting to relax. Giving her a quick forehead kiss Y/n smiles, “So, did you want to watch a few episodes of a show or something?” Wanda raises an eyebrow at her. “Isn’t it late?” Y/n shrugs, “A little but I figured you might not want to go back to sleep yet.” 

Wanda cracks a small grin looking at Y/n, “Well I don’t.” Y/n quickly gets out of bed brushing herself off, “Good. You start thinking of a show then while we raid the kitchen pantry.” As Wanda gets out of bed Y/n grabs onto her hand once more and she lets out a small, “I love you.” Y/n replies back in a soft whisper, “I love you too.”

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Hello! I’ve really been enjoying your writing! May I request short drabbles for Lucifer, Satan, and Barbatos who react to MC when she answers the man vs bear question with bear? If it’s heavy for you to write, I completely understand.

Have a lovely day/night and please take care!

Hello! I'm sorry for the wait. But thanks for your request. I think it's very meaningful. After all it's important to feel safe around our demons no matter what. I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: Lucifer, Satan and Barbatos reacting to MC choosing the bear in the trend man vs bear.

Contains: Fluff

Fem!MC

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

---

Lucifer

The eldest had recently discovered the trend 'man vs bear' and was interested in your point of view on the matter so he decided to come to you and ask directly. And as much as he was expecting to hear that answer it still shook him to the core.

Lucifer: mumbling "Bear? Hm.. not that I didn't expect to hear that.."

He kept silent for a few more seconds before speaking up again.

Lucifer: "MC could you explain why you chose bear..?"

MC: "Well.. I just... I guess I don't feel particularly safe around men? The thought of what men are capable of scares me.."

Lucifer looked at you with concern in his eyes. He took your hands in his and gave you a sincere look.

Lucifer: "MC, I'm aware why you chose the bear. But.. I want you to know that you're be safe in the Devildom or wherever you maybe be when I'm right there with you. I'll make sure no man, no demon lays a finger on you."

Silence followed and the demon took a deep breath. He carefully wrapped his arms around you and spoke into your ear.

Lucifer: "...I know I, myself am a man but please trust me. I would never do anything to harm you."

Satan

The fourth-born heard of that trend from Asmo and wasn't particularly interested until one day before heading to bed he decided that he had to know your answer. So the next day he came to you with the question but the answer wasn't what he was expecting.

Satan: "Bear? Why bear? MC, were keeping you safe here in the Devildom no one would dare to lay a hand on you. Why did you choose bear?"

MC: "Satan, this question talk about men in general not men in the Devildom. And I'd be lying if I said that I feel safe around men."

The demon fell silent. Soon enough he took your hand in his and caressed its knuckles.

Satan: "MC, do you feel safe around me..?"

You smiled softly at the demon and nodded your head.

MC: "Of course I feel safe around you, Satan. You've long proven yourself that you're worthy of my trust.."

A relieved smile appeared on his face and he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

Satan: "Thank you, MC. I promise to always protect you from the dangers of life. I love you."

Barbatos

Barbatos was never interested in trends so he wasn't fast to get to know of this one. But once when Diavolo mentioned it and said that he'd like to know what your answer would be Barbatos was determined to confront you about it. And as much as he has hoped your answer would be different he had predicted what you'd say.

Barbatos: "I see..."

The demon kept silent for a minute, lost in his thoughts.

MC: "Barbatos? Is everything alright? You seem disappointed.."

Barbatos: "Disappointed? No. I'm just concerned.."

MC: "Concerned about my answer?"

Barbatos: "Indeed I am."

MC: "Well.. I mean.. of course I'd choose bear.. you never know what could go through a man's head.."

Barbatos: "Well yes of course, MC. You are quite tight but I can't help but wonder... Do you feel safe here with us in the Devildom?"

MC: "I'd be lying if I said that I don't. Even if something happens I know I can rely on the brothers or one of you guys to help me."

Barbatos smiled and took your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

Barbatos: "Good. Always know that you're safe in the Devildom. Whether it would be me or the brothers or whoever it is that is protecting you. And if something happens you can rely on me to handle it."

MC: "Thank you, Barbatos!"

Barbatos: "Of course. It is my duty to ensure your safety here in the Devildom."

[kaeichi]

mixed drinks, mixed feelings.

[wc: 1.9k] ex fwb! gojo. sfw. angst. alcoholism. hurt/no comfort. you and gojo are teachers at jujutsu tech.

“hey, gojo?”

“...”

gojo hates drinking.

you're not sure who this imposter is—this slumped figure who is currently hunched over the sticky countertop, tangled white hair sprawled messily against the dark sleeves of his arms, accompanied by four almost-empty shot glasses nearby. no, the man you know has never even taken more than a couple sips when the staff goes out for drinks after work hours, nor could he barely tolerate the smell without gagging, his beautiful face contorted almost comically into unequivocal disgust, so whoever this is in front of you couldn't possibly be him.

around an hour ago, the crew decided to head over to the nearest izakaya to celebrate nanami’s newest promotion at his job. he may have left jujutsu tech a long time ago, but he remained close friends with everyone nonetheless. it was only after multiple rounds of drinks that you realized how gojo has mysteriously disappeared for a suspiciously long time, and everyone was too buzzed to notice. after checking the bathrooms and excusing yourself outside, a strange feeling washed over you; for some reason, you eventually found yourself making your way to the bar right across the street.

it seems that one way or another, there is that invisible string that persists, faintly pulling you towards none other than gojo satoru.

tentatively, you lean down, a hand reaching over to gently shake his shoulder. the overwhelming stench of liquor invades your nostrils, but you resist the urge to withdraw, your concern winning over. “you alive, gojo?”

“…it's satoru,” he groggily mumbles.

sighing, you drag a bar stool to sit beside him, observing the uncharacteristically disheveled male. the sight is so bizarre that it makes you audibly laugh in disbelief, and you're tempted to snap a picture for blackmail purposes—he deserves it, you think. just because it's him. what the hell happened to the suave, well-groomed, overly confident sorcerer that you know? the man with very little to no apparent weaknesses at all?

even the strongest has his moments, i guess. if you recall correctly, this might be the first time you've seen him so openly vulnerable. you try to will away the strange sputtering in your chest.

tugging at his wrinkled sleeve, you urge, “look at me.”

no response.

the drinks you've consumed earlier are now starting to take effect, a light headache incoming as you try to think of what you should do. you count one, two, three, before a haunting realization comes to you, making you grab a fistful of his snowy tufts and forcefully gripping it upwards. his eyelids twitch, adjusting to the light after previously being closed shut. when he finally opens them, your breath gets caught in your throat—his once brilliant azure eyes are now a bland gray, with a hint of red rimming the outline.

“gojo?! christ, snap out of it! why can i touch you?”

somehow, the fucker still manages to smirk.

“why not? you've never complained about it before, so why start n—” you let go of his hair, letting his forehead slam back on the counter with a dull thud. he makes a dissatisfied noise, whiny and drawn out, before groaning, “who do you think i am? i can sense your presence way before you came here—my infinity wasn't off this whole time. and again, that's satoru for you.”

that gave you little reassurance, unsure whether or not to fully believe him—especially in this sorry state. despite his devilishly good looks and capabilities, gojo satoru is lame, a menace, and acts like a fool most of the time; but even you know that's a ruse. right now, there's no silly antics, no mask to hide behind, no façade to protect himself. even his fancy sunglasses are long forgotten on the ground below him.

“care to share what's on your mind, my dear friend?”

the seemingly disoriented colleague of yours adjusts his head so he can face you, still leaning against the dirty wood as his lips pull into a pout. “your dear friend, huh…”

“what was that?”

“nothing,” he then sits back up, his voice back to a normal volume. “so? wanna take a shot with me?”

you try your best to refrain from grabbing him by the hair again and slamming his head downward, on purpose this time. “you already drank a whole bottle back at the izakaya, and even that's pushing it. what's with you?”

his glassy, bloodshot eyes regard your stressed expression for a moment before he turns away, opting to stare at shelves of alcohol displays in front of him. “do you remember how megumi acted the first time he met you?”

…of course he'd ignore your question. having a conversation with someone like gojo will never be as clear-cut as you’d like it to be.

still, you decide to entertain him; it is a nice memory after all. fushiguro megumi, one of your students, who is also the little kid whose sister you coincidentally saved from a near death experience many years ago. little megumi came up to you after learning what happened, his head bowed low as he muttered his sincerest thanks in a small, quivering voice. you had kneeled down to his eye level, assured him not to worry about it, but he refused to look up, nor to even budge an inch. then as a joke, you told him to give you a nice big hug if he wanted to thank you more, and he complied, much to you and (especially) gojo’s surprise.

“mhm. didn't know you were the sentimental kind. is that why you refuse to get drunk?” you tease.

“whatever. i've been taking care of that brat for over ten years now, and he's never given me any kind of gratitude or affection whatsoever.”

“...have you ever thought that maybe it's because you have a personality issue?”

“that's not the point!” he whips his head to you, glaring at you with such venom that you can't help but grin widely. he immediately stops scowling at your reaction, maintaining eye contact for a few seconds before he averts his gaze once again. “i… understand him, is all i’m saying.”

“you ditched the group and went all the way here, alone, just to reminisce about the past? you truly never change, huh? you're still as dramatic as ever.”

“disrespectful little sh–” and he's back to glaring at you with a subtle sneer. “why'd you even come here?”

“first: you can't call me that, i'm older than you,” you click your tongue. “second: why not? are you telling me to leave or what?”

“no, seriously. why?” gojo repeats.

at this, your brows crease together. why what? “because i was concerned?”

“why…” he sinks further into the counter, head in between his crossed arms, much like how he had looked when you first walked in.

“i don’t get what you're trying to… are you asking me why i’m concerned? well, why wouldn't i be? it's not like we're not friends outside of work. of course i’d—wait, where are you going?”

you quickly hop off the stool when the tall sorcerer abruptly stands up, now briskly walking away and heading towards the exit. you call him a couple more times but he doesn't bother to look back, and you resort to nearly running to be able to keep up with his freakishly long legs. right before he rounds the corner of the street, you harshly pull his wrist; at the contact, he jerks his head back, dull gray eyes flashing angrily.

“is that all you see me as?” he yells, his voice echoing through the dark, empty street. you’re taken aback by the harshness of his tone, letting go of his wrist in surprise. “tell me no. lie to me at this point. did all our nights spent together mean nothing at all? i was just a quick fix for you, wasn't i?” the volume of his voice raises even higher, and you frantically wave your hands at him to stop.

“no, that's not true! i—” now you understand why he's been drinking irresponsibly. fuck. if you knew this is how it’d end up, then you wouldn't have started anything with him in the first place. you don't regret anything, but is it really worth ruining your precious friendship? all the years of your youth shared together has now gone down the drain, all because of a couple of drunken nights?

“—then why don't you look at me the same way as you do with nanami?” he says, and your stomach drops. one look at your shocked expression and gojo already knows. he knows, yet he needs one last confirmation that comes directly from your mouth, no matter how excruciating it is. “tell me i’m wrong.”

“i’m sorry, go–”

“it’s satoru, damn it.” this time, he doesn't scream his words, nor does he ball his fists so tight that his knuckles blanch. instead, what comes out is merely a quiet, trembling whisper.

you wince at the sheer amount of emotion behind his words, the feeling of guilt heavy on your shoulders.

“listen to me, satoru. there's nothing going on with me and nanami. and what you and i both have– had, is in the past now. you know why we can't be together, right? i can't leave my dear students behind.” the two of you are well aware of that predicament; you and him can never have a real relationship, unless you're willing to risk relocation to kyoto prefecture.

would you really do that for someone you're not even 100% sure you're in love with?

“then stop pretending to care about me. stop doing all this like you mean it,” the white-haired male spits out. you look down, a hand reaching in your pocket for the discarded sunglasses you've picked up earlier, gently placing the pitch black lenses over gojo’s face.

you want to say it's for his sake, but truthfully, you just can't bear to look him in the eyes anymore.

“but that's the thing; i do care about you. and i never stopped caring about you. you're such a great person, satoru,” you assure him with a much softer tone. before you know it, you're reaching towards his face—however, as soon as you made contact, your palm seems to burn from realization (of him further misunderstanding your actions? of you knowing your place?), making you quickly retract your fingers.

you pretend you don't see him chasing after your touch.

“please believe me when i say this,” you continue. “you deserve someone who's just as kind as you, someone who actually deserves your love, and i’m not that person—”

“kiss me.” you nearly lose your balance as he suddenly places his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him, his voice breaking as he pleads. you're glad you can't see his eyes anymore—it might shatter your already fragile resolve even more. “i don't care. i don't care if you're not the right person, or if you think you're undeserving of my love. none of that has ever mattered to me. so please, kiss me. just one more time.”

huffs of your breaths mix together, faint white clouds forming in the chilly night. your heart shivers with anticipation as your gaze lingers on his soft, familiar lips for a moment too long.

one,

two,

three.

“…i can't. i'm sorry, gojo.”

for being the strongest sorcerer alive, he’s undeniably and pathetically weak when it comes to you. for being the strongest, he can't even snap that thin, flimsy cord, unable to sever that invisible string that ties you both together.

gojo hates drinking, but he would down glass after glass until his body gives up before his mind does. he absolutely hates drinking, but he hates uncertainty and loss of control even more.

[imaginethat-imnotawriter]

Spencer Imagine

***MDNI***

So this is my first post. Disclaimer: I am not a writer. I am just a girl with dreams. I do not take responsibility if this is terrible, but I hope you read it anyway.

TW: situationship, angst (happy ending), you get a migraine, platonic nudity, nonplatonic nudity, fingering (I think that's everything.)

This story has smut, but it is mostly just plot and dialogue. I rate it one 🌶️/5 Spencer is absolutely pathetic in this, so if you like princess treatment, you may like this.

Word count: 12,673

Enjoy~

Spencer sees as you make a beeline for your desk while avoiding making eye contact with anyone. He decides to walk up to you, grabbing your forearm and turning you around to face him.

"What's wrong?" He whispers.

"Why does it matter?" You retort.

He crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. He was trying to be cautious with you, but seems like this is not the situation for that.

"Because you're acting strange and I'm concerned about you." He replies, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

You look at him but turn back to your desk. "Go show your concern to the witness you seem to find so enrapturing. I wouldn't want to waste your time" You roll your eyes, your jealousy on clear display.

He stops dead in his tracks, knowing exactly what you're getting at.

"You're jealous of the witness?" He asks, sounding a bit amused.

"What? No way. Why would I be?" You say in an angry voice.

Spencer laughs and leans on the desk next to yours.

"You are jealous that I was talking to the witness, aren't you?"

You stand up abruptly ready to take your leave and clock out early to get out of this situation, but  Spencer grabs your arm, stopping you from leaving.

"Come on, I was just playing around..." He says, the playfulness in his voice gone, replaced with a hint of guilt.

Your breath comes out in pants, feeling uncomfortable in the situation. "Honestly, I don't know what I'm feeling right now" You confess, still looking around for a way out.

He watches you carefully, looking at the way you're glancing towards the exits.

"It's okay, I'm sorry if it made you upset" He says, loosening his grip on your arm, his thumb rubbing circles slowly, trying his best to soothe you.

You turn away, unsure of how to continue this awkward conversation. He gently grabs your chin, making you look back at him, feeling his own anxiety rise at your uncharacteristic response.

"Hey, talk to me... please" He asks gently, meeting your eyes, his brown eyes filled with genuine concern.

"She's into you. The witness."  He sighs at your response, dropping his hand from your chin. 

"I know that she was flirting with me...obviously" He says, seeming a little annoyed with the fact that you think it's necessary to point out a truth he is already aware of.

You give him a look of carefully concealed rage, the feeling slipping into your voice. "Then tell me, why were you humoring her?"

He furrows his brow, not appreciating the look you're giving him. "I was just being nice, it's what I do" He says bluntly, getting a feeling that he's walking into a trap.

You scoff turning your head away from him. "Unbelievable."

He grabs your chin again, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Unbelievable? You're the one getting all jealous over some witness who happened to be flirting with me." He retorts, matching your incredulous tone.

"YOU FLIRTED BACK!" you shout.

"I was being friendly!" He snaps, getting a little bit irritated with you. "And besides, what's it to you? I'm not in a relationship, I can flirt with whoever I want."

"You know what, you're right. I'll be leaving now." You turn towards the elevator, making large steps to get there quickly. "I don't need to be around this."

He watches you walk away for a few moments, feeling a mixture of annoyance and confusion, before following after you. "Hey, wait!" He calls out, rushing forward to grab your arm again to stop you from entering the elevator.

"Let me go," You say in annoyance, ripping your arm out of his grasp. "Go back to your new escapade, you're wasting your time with me."

He lets go of your arm, feeling a pang of guilt. "Just give me a minute" He says, a hint of pleading in his voice.

You huff and give him an incredulous look. "For what? Do tell."

He sighs, taking a step closer to you. "I don't understand why you're getting so upset over this" His usually soothing voice wavering with frustration.

"Some genius" You say hearing the elevator ding and watching the doors open, feeling slightly relieved at finally finding an exit.

He watches your gaze turn towards the elevator, and he quickly steps closer to you. There's a mixture of annoyance and desperation in his eyes, almost as if begging you to stay. He hesitantly grabs both of your arms, pulling you away from the elevator. "Can you stop for a second and talk to me?" He asks, his voice cracking with frustration.

"You said you were being friendly, what else is there to say Reid?" His name leaves your lips in a hiss, your anger at him clear in your tone.

He flinches at the way you say his name, not used to such unconcealed vitriol, but continues anyway.

"Do you think I was being flirty with her because I want to be with her?" He asks bluntly, his hands still firmly holding onto your arms.

"What does it matter? It has nothing to do with me" You pull away, pressing the button for the elevator again, making sure it doesn't leave yet.

"Nothing to do with you?" He repeats, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "You're getting jealous over me, you're trying to run away as soon as things get complicated, and you're saying that none of this has anything to do with you?!"

"You made it quite clear that I have no stake in this. You aren't in a relationship. Do whatever you want" You reply tiredly, your fight leaving you, the urge to cry starting to creep up. ‘I need to leave fast’ you think.

His heart sinks at your words. He knows he's been stubborn, but seeing you give up makes him stop and reconsider his actions.

"Wait-" He says, gently tightening his grip on your arm. "You do have a stake in this, okay? I'm sorry for being so-" He's cut off by his own guilt, looking down at his shoes for a moment.

"So, what?" You say, waiting for him to finish his sentence, but feeling foolish for doing so.

"So stubborn. So careless. So stupid..." He mumbles under his breath, guilt lacing his words. "Can you please just listen to me?" He asks, his voice hoarse. He lets go of your arm and gently grabs your hand, holding it in his own.

"I suppose careless is one way of putting it. I know I don't mean anything to you, but you don't have to rub it in my face like that." You turn around again and slip into the elevator pulling your hand away.

He sighs in defeat, watching you pull your hand back and enter the elevator. He looks down, a wave of guilt washing over him as he realizes all the mistakes he's made. Suddenly, he makes a split-second decision. As the elevator doors begin to close, he quickly slips through them, stepping inside with you and quickly slamming his hand against the 'stop' button.

"Reid," You say, refusing to call him by his first name on principle at this point. No use in using formality when he was so cold to you today. "What do you think you're doing?"

He looks at you, his eyes locking with yours. There's a mixture of desperation and guilt in his usually neutral expression. "I'm trying to stop you from running away. From me. From us. I messed up, okay? I was selfish and careless and I do care about you" He says, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

You scoff, but refuse to reply.

He continues, noticing your reluctance to respond. Spencer takes a hesitant step closer to you, his voice getting more and more desperate. "Yes, I was being friendly with the witness. But no, I was not flirting with her. I was just being nice, doing my job. And do you want to know why?" 

You still refuse to speak but meet his gaze anyway.

He takes another step closer, the distance between you both getting smaller. "Because I like you. Actually, no, I don't just like you, I more than like you" He confesses, his eyes begging for your response, for some sort of reaction.

"You sure have a terrible way of showing it" You respond, still feeling the pain in your heart.

Spencer steps even closer again, his eyes full of guilt and remorse. "I know, I know I do. And I'm sorry-" He stops himself, taking a deep breath before continuing, the words pouring out of him like he's releasing them for the first time. "Do you wanna know why I don't tell you how I feel? Why I always keep it to myself? Why I just watch you walk around everyday, without ever telling you how much I want to hold you, how much I want to kiss you..."

"Reid–" You say again, wondering where he's going with this, but not yet ready to give in to him.

He continues, taking another step closer, his words getting more and more passionate. "Because I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid of losing you, losing what we have. I'm afraid that if I do say something, it'll change everything. I'm afraid you'll wake up one day and realize that you deserve someone more stable, less damaged... someone who doesn't have my mental baggage, who isn't as emotionally stunted as I am." He finishes his rambling, the picture perfect image of desperation.

You almost roll your eyes at him, but refrain. "Reid. You know very well how I carry just as much mental baggage as you. If you think I can't handle yours, then what does that say about me? We're all damaged here. The only reason I want to run is that you keep pushing me away in such painful ways."

He listens to your words, his heart clenching with guilt. He knows that he's been pushing you away, hurting you even when he doesn't really mean to. He feels foolish for letting his own fears and insecurities get in the way of something that could be wonderful. Spencer closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before slowly reopening them and looking at you. This time his eyes are filled with sincerity, and there's a touch of vulnerability in his voice. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to push you away. I'm trying, I really am-"

You give him a skeptical look "Are you?"

He nods rapidly, his gaze locked with yours. He seems almost desperate for you to believe him. "Yes, yes I am. I'm just... I'm not used to this. To admitting how I feel-" He sighs, looking down for a moment before quickly meeting your eyes again "I need you to believe me when I say I care about you. I care about you so much it scares me"

You sigh and look off to the side, still unwilling to believe his pretty words. Especially since his actions have failed to prove him reliable. This situationship has gone on too long and you have finally hit your limit. Either this ends with him taking you seriously, or it ends ugly.

When Spencer sees you looking away, he feels a pang of anxiety. Is he losing you already? He takes another step forward, so close that he's practically towering over you, though his presence feels non-threatening. He gently puts his hand on your cheek, turning your head so you're looking at him again.

"Please, please believe me. I don't want to lose you..." His voice breaks, showing the vulnerability that he usually tries so hard to conceal.

"I'm too weak for you Spencer." You finally call him by his first name. "I'm tired of giving you chances for you to burn me again."

The doctor feels a mixture of relief and guilt wash over him when you call him Spencer. It's something he's been waiting for you to say since this cursed conversation started. He silently hopes that it means you are starting to believe him. "I'm so sorry for hurting you. I don't want to screw things up, or make you feel like I don't care-" He takes a deep breath "I do care about you. More than you know."

"I'll give you one more chance, Spencer. My heart can’t take any more of you denying me in public while you care for me in private." You gesture around to the location in which the two of you are. Alone. Still in the elevator. "You can say pretty things when there's no one around and it makes me realize how you're ashamed to be seen with me."

Spencer’s expression is pained, knowing that his actions have made you doubt how he feels about you. He takes another deep breath, still holding your gaze with intensity.

"No, no that's not it-" He says with urgency, dropping his hand from your cheek "I'm not ashamed to be seen with you, not at all... It's just-" He pauses briefly, trying to figure out how to put it into words. He swallows hard, feeling ashamed of the reason he's been hiding his feelings.

You look down at your shoes as you wait for him to continue, not willing to give him any assistance. This mess is his to clean up.

He sighs, looking down for a moment before looking back into your eyes. "I'm scared, okay? Not of you, or of how I feel about you. God no." He starts, his voice cracking slightly from the emotion behind his words "I'm scared of how other people will react. I'm scared of how they'll treat us, how they'll look at us... how it'll change the way they think of you."

You scoff again "Reid, look." You start, straight back to his last name. "I'm under no delusion that we’re a normal couple. No. That we'd make a normal couple." You have to correct yourself since the two of you are obviously not in a relationship as he so rudely pointed out. "But give me the respect to make my own decisions, rather than you stepping in and making them for me."

He feels another pang of guilt hit him. You're making completely valid points, expressing your feelings with honesty, and he's been shutting you down at every turn. He feels the shame of the way he's been treating you start to grip at him painfully. "You're right... you're absolutely right. That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry" Spencer says, his voice still full of guilt. "I know I have no right to make decisions for you... or to hide my feelings out of fear. You deserve better."

You hit the button to start the elevator again. "You're sorry, huh?"

Spencer watches you press the button again, knowing that this is probably not going to be over anytime soon. He lets out a deep sigh, still feeling a pang of pain in his heart. "Yes, okay? I'm so sorry. Not just for this, but for pushing you away and pretending like I don't care about you. I was being an idiot. A jerk, actually."

"-an asshole" You provide, knowing that's the better term for his behavior.

"Yeah, yeah, I was being an ass, okay?" He says with remorse, running a hand through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. "I don't want to do this to you anymore. I don't want to push you away... to watch you walk away."

"Then why did you say those things to me?" You feel a bit of relief when the elevator finally opens again, desperate to get out of such close quarters with him.

Spencer follows you out of the elevator, still not wanting to let you go without trying his best to salvage some part of the relationship that he's practically destroyed.

"Because I'm stupid, okay? And a coward, apparently..." He trails off, taking a few fast steps to reach you. He reaches out and puts his hand on your arm once more, stopping your movements.

"You could say that again," You pull no punches, wanting Spencer to feel a fraction of pain that you have since this situationship started. You look back at him, trying to decide whether or not to believe his apologetic display.

His heart clenches again, hurting at your blunt tone, and realizing that you still don't believe him. He knows that he still has a lot of work to do to gain your trust again.

"Please..." He says, looking into your eyes pleadingly, still holding onto your arm "I know I've messed up, but I'm begging you not to walk away... I don't want to lose you."

You sigh, hoping to not live to regret this decision. "Get in the car Reid."

Spencer looks at you in disbelief, almost as if he can't believe that you've decided not to walk away. There's a mixture of relief and gratefulness in his expression. He nods, still holding onto your arm.

"Okay. Okay, I'll get in the car..." He stutters, almost as if agreeing to a compromise, though not fully believing that you're still willing to be in a car with him, alone.

You pull away from him and slump down into the driver's seat. Turning it on and putting it in drive quickly, not giving him much time to get in before just changing your mind and just driving off without him.

He quickly gets into the passenger seat, making sure to keep himself close to the door to allow you as much physical space as possible, not wanting you to change your mind at allowing him to ride in your car with you.

He sits there quietly for a moment, unable to figure out what to say after your previous interaction. He doesn't want to screw anything up again, so he settles for remaining silent until you speak.

You settle in and just start driving, not exactly sure of where you are heading and finding it a bit difficult to decide where to go. You risk a glance over at him and he's looking utterly pathetic. Curled up on himself obviously feeling terrible. Finally, you decide to just drive home, not wanting to be in public anymore. He watches you drive, keeping silent and staying as still as possible. He tries to keep himself from glancing over at you, though he finds it hard not to. Spencer feels desperate to reach out to you, to try to comfort you, but he knows that his touch is probably the very last thing you want right now. So he stays silent and keeps his distance, feeling incredibly guilty and ashamed of how he's behaved. 

You keep on the route to your place wondering what to do now, you sigh softly, unsure of what to say. Suddenly, Spencer realizes what route that you're taking, knowing that it leads to your place. His heart feels like it's constricting, and he's overcome by guilt once again. He doesn't want to take this as an invitation of any sort, as he knows that he has a lot of work to do to earn back your trust. He's willing to put in the effort, but he's afraid that you'll tell him to leave as soon as you pull into the driveway.

You see the last turn coming up at the stop sign, but pause before turning, feeling the beginnings of a migraine start behind your eyes. The fight with Spencer has died down to silent treatment, but the high stress has finally caught up to you. You stop longer than normal at the stop sign and clench your eyes closed for a while, urging it to go away.

He glances in your direction when he notices you’ve stopped the car. You are sitting still with your eyes shut so tightly he can't help but feel concerned. He can tell something is bothering you, but doesn't know if it's okay to ask if you're alright.

"Are you..." He starts to say, hesitating for a moment. He doesn't want to annoy you by asking if you're okay, but he really can't hold back his caring nature. "...Are you alright?"

"I'm fine" You snap at him, not ready to hear him speak quite yet. You force your eyes back open, the migraine still lurking. You take the final turn and rush to pull into the driveway, parking in the garage.

Spencer flinches a bit at your sharp reply, realizing that he probably should have just kept quiet. He watches as you pull into the garage and sighs, knowing that it's probably time for him to go. Still, he doesn't dare move without you telling him to, or at least without any sort of response from you. Reid is still fighting an internal battle on whether or not to risk reaching for your arm, or if that would just send you over the edge.

You take a deep breath as you shut the car off and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the button to close the garage door behind the car. You don't instruct Spencer to do anything, just exiting the car and entering the house without shutting the door behind you.

He swallows hard, seeing you get out of the car without saying anything. He slowly unbuckles his seatbelt as well, feeling the weight of guilt upon him heavier than ever. He takes his time getting out of the car, almost as if preparing himself to be asked to leave. After he climbs out of the car, he slowly closes the passenger door and follows you inside, unsure if you'll be happy or pissed to see him.

You remove your jacket and hang it up on one of the hooks and toe off your shoes, giving Reid a pointed glare that he should remove his too. He quickly removes his shoes, placing them carefully next to yours. He knows better than to make you mad by leaving his shoes on, especially in your home.

You make your way into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of ice water and chugging it down. You open the freezer for an ice pack and drape it around your neck, hoping that it'll stop the migraine that you can already feel will be a bad one.

Spencer watches you hurry into the kitchen, silently noticing your strange behavior. He feels a pang of concern, knowing that something has to be wrong if you're taking such measures. He follows you into the kitchen, though he doesn't walk up right behind you. Spencer keeps his distance, his heart twisting in worry when he finally puts together that you have a headache. And it seems to be a fairly severe one.

You head towards the bedroom, closing the blinds and letting out a sigh of relief as you are finally free of the painful sunlight before turning around to look at Spencer who you have heard following you through the house. Spencer doesn't dare come any closer to you, afraid that his presence will be unwelcome.

"Reid," You whisper.

Spencer’s breath hitches as you finally speak to him, the sound of your voice making his heart constrict. He doesn't allow himself to hope that you calling out for him could possibly be a sign of forgiveness, but a part of him can't help but feel just a little optimistic. "Yes..?" He answers, his voice just as quiet as yours.

"I'm still angry, but right now, I'm in a lot of pain. Please…draw me a bath." Your voice is so quiet it's almost difficult to hear, but Spencer heard it anyway, his heart sinking a bit when you tell him that your anger hasn’t wavered. However, his expression quickly changes to concern when you tell him that you’re hurt. His heart aches with sympathy and guilt, hating knowing that you're in pain, guessing (correctly) that it is due to him causing you so much emotional turmoil.

Spencer swallows hard, before responding "Y-Yeah, I can draw you a bath... Anything for you..."

You watch as Spencer leaves towards the bathroom and then you sit down on the bed, hearing the water start to run. You massage your temples and take deep breaths.

Spencer enters the bathroom, turning on the faucet to draw a warm bath for you. He can't help but think of how pathetic he feels. He used to have the courage to pull you closer and hold you when you were hurting, but now he doesn't even know if he's allowed to ask if he can get closer to examine the source of your pain. He's scared of doing anything that would just make you push him away even more. When he's finished drawing the bath, he hesitantly peaks his head into your bedroom, not wanting to startle you and worsen your headache.

When you hear the tap turn off, you look up and see Spencer waiting. Standing up and making your way over to the bathroom, you throw all caution into the wind and decide to rely on Spencer to help you through the pain. You sit down on the chair in the bathroom and look over at Spencer, the exhaustion clear in your eyes. "Help me undress for the bath. I'm too tired to do it myself. Turn the light off first." You say, needing darkness mostly because of the migraine, but you are also relieved that the darkness can help you shield yourself from him seeing you so vulnerable.

Spencer wastes no time and  immediately switches off the light as soon as you request for him to do so. He doesn't want you to feel even more pain from the light in your already weakened state. Reid quietly walks over to stand in front of you, looking down at you with a compassionate, though hesitant expression. "Are you... Are you sure about this? Letting me... Undress you?" He asks, feeling a bit nervous.

"Don't make me repeat myself.” Your voice is cold and tired as you feel exhaustion pulling at your bones. You carefully lean your head back against the ice pack. “I'm not asking you to do this because I want something from you."

He swallows hard, trying to push the feeling aside that you're just using him as nothing more than a tool right now. The feeling hurts him more painfully than a bullet wound. He reaches for the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up so that he can help you remove it, though he tries to avoid looking at anything and keeps his eyes focused solely on helping you. Once he gets your shirt over your head, he hesitantly puts his hands on the waistline of your pants, his eyes still averted from your body. He swallows again, before speaking up. "Lift your hips so I can remove your pants..."

You set the ice pack down so it doesn't make a loud noise if it falls. Your arms fall limply as he removes your shirt but you give no reaction at all, face blank and eyes are tired. "I'm not sure if I have the strength to do that right now" You sniffle as you feel tears rush to your eyes.

His heart clenches with sympathy as you sniffle, and he has to fight the sudden, overwhelming urge to wrap you up in a hug and run a comforting hand through your hair. He knows can't do that right now. He just has to keep reminding himself that you don't want his touch.

However, he can still comfort you with his words.

"It's alright, I'll help you..." He says reassuringly. He kneels down on the ground in front of you, gently taking one of your hands in his own.

You watch him, tears falling down your cheeks silently.

He gently squeezes your hand in reassurance, trying to offer some sort of comfort to you. He quickly but carefully pulls your pants down, lifting each of your legs up to help you take them all the way off. Once he has removed your pants, he carefully returns your legs to the ground, before speaking up in a soft tone. "I'm going to help you into the bathtub now, okay? Do you think you can stand?"

A sob leaves your lips "I don't think so" You whisper.

He feels another wave of guilt wash over him, hating how weak and helpless you seem in this moment, and he hates himself even more for being the reason you're feeling this way. "Okay, that... that's fine..." He says, his voice thick with sympathy. His heart twists in his chest painfully as you sob, feeling absolutely awful about this whole situation. He slowly guides you off the seat, putting his arms around you for support.

As you near the tub, the climb to get in looks taller than a mountain and one of your legs twitch, but refuses to pull up high enough to make it over the side.

Spencer notices your hesitation as you approach the edge of the bathtub, and can guess that you won't be able to get into the tub on your own. "Hey, hey, it's okay..." He soothes, holding you closer to him. He gently puts an arm under your bottom and one behind your back, lifting you up carefully so that you're able to get into the tub.

You are shaky as Spencer sets you down on your feet and then you realize that you are standing nude right in front of him, but he's treating you so gently. "Help me lie down please, I don't want to fall" You keep your voice quiet, barely even a whisper. However, since there is no noise in the house, it still feels loud.

Spencer turns his face to the side, looking away to give you some sense of privacy as he carefully lowers you down into the bathtub. His hands are extremely gentle, his touch barely even registering on your skin as he helps you sit down . Once you're in, he stands up, averting his eyes, trying his best to make sure you don't feel as though he’s taking advantage of the situation.

"Do you... need help with anything else?" He asks, though he doesn't know what else he could possibly help you with while you're sitting in the bathtub. He just doesn't want to leave until he's certain that you're okay.

"Pass me the ice pack please." Your response is soft, and you can’t help but feel slightly pathetic at your inability to do anything. If you sat up, you’d likely be able to reach it yourself, but the pounding in your head keeps you from making any movements at all.

Spencer is happy to help, not even pausing before reaching for the ice pack that was already sitting on the little shelf on the side of the tub. He watches you take it from him, trying to resist the urge to help you place it around your neck, or to even reach for the washcloth on the other side of the bathtub.

You lean your head back and place the ice pack over your eyes, sitting in silence for a moment, weighing the options and deciding to keep Spencer around. Because even though he’s hurt you, he's still a comforting presence "could you..." I trail off, unsure of whether or not I should actually ask him.

Spencer is standing nearby, a respectable distance away. He doesn't want to overstep. However, when you seem to think better of whatever it was you were about to ask, his curiosity piques. "Hm? Could I what?"

"Massage my shoulders? I know it sounds weird, but sometimes it helps the pain go away." You feel ashamed for having to ask for so much help and are glad that the ice pack covers most of your face so he can't see your shame.

Reid blinks in surprise, a bit shocked at your request, though he's not sure if he's shocked at the fact that you're seeking so much physical comfort from him, or if it's at the fact that you're asking for a massage. He swallows hard, contemplating whether or not it's really okay for him to touch you in such an intimate way.

His silence has you jumping to conclusions. "You don't have to if you don't feel comfortable. If you want to leave, it's okay. You've done enough already" You say, not wanting him to feel trapped just because you’re hurting.

He quickly takes a small step closer to you, still unable to look at your body, but not wanting to let you believe he's going to leave. "No... no, it's alright... I can do it for you, I don't mind..." He says, trying to sound reassuring.

You sigh in relief knowing that he's going to help you and try to keep yourself from crying again.

His heart continues to twist with both sympathy and guilt for you, hating the way you look in this moment. So weak. So tired. He hates himself for being the cause, and he feels a lump in his throat, but he tries his hardest to push it down and focus on you. "Do you mind if I get in the bathtub with you?" He asks hesitantly, trying to make the question as un-suggestive as possible. Knowing that there's no way in hell he could massage you from outside of the tub without being completely awkward. The bathtub is tucked inside of a nook, and the open edge is to the side…if he were to try to massage you from the outside, it wouldn’t be very effective.

You pause for a moment, knowing why he's asked, but still feeling a little awkward "You can. But could you keep your underwear on please? I'd be more comfortable that way."

He swallows painfully at your request, a pang stabbing his heart as you clarify the necessity of him keeping his underwear on. Not that he would do otherwise. He's not a pig. However, the fact that you need to clarify such things speaks volumes on your level of current comfort and trust in him, and it makes his heart sink even more. "Of course I will... I'll keep them on, I swear."

You wait in silence hearing him undress, but you don't move to remove the ice pack from your eyes. Happy to have a blindfold.

Spencer slowly starts to remove his shirt. He's feeling even more vulnerable than usual at the moment, stripping down to his underwear in front of you. Reid is well aware that you aren’t looking at him, but this situation is very different than he’s used to and he feels unsure in the moment. He quickly removes the rest of his clothes before losing his nerve and slowly lowers himself in the bathtub behind you, swallowing hard as he tries to keep his eyes averted from your body. He hesitantly reaches for you, his fingers gently touching your shoulders, giving them a light pinch.

You let out soft cries, your shoulders being really tense. It hurts, and that much is obvious. But in order to curb the migraine, it’s necessary to push through the pain.

He almost flinches at the noise, feeling a pang in his heart as he hears you cry out from the pain, but he tries to push the feeling away as he slowly starts to massage your shoulders. "Tell me if you need me to stop... or if I'm pressing too hard..."

"Okay," You whisper, it was so soft that you wonder if it actually left your lips or not.

He continues massaging your shoulders, slowly and gently. He tries his hardest to be mindful of the pressure. He can see the expression on your face. At least the part of your face that isn’t covered by the ice pack. He knows that it's not completely comfortable for you, but he also knows that discomfort is to be expected. It's a massage. They're never comfortable. He keeps his hands placed carefully on your shoulders, trying his best to avoid touching elsewhere on your body...

You bring your hands up to hold the ice pack against your eyes as you lean forward, wanting him to massage a little bit lower on your back. "Are you still there?" You ask, knowing why he's being silent, but he's hesitant too.

"Yeah..." He responds in a soft tone, his hands still positioned on your shoulders, massaging your bare skin there. They hesitate as he tries to gauge whether or not he should move them lower. He finally decides to move them down, lowering his hands inch by inch, careful not to touch anywhere inappropriate.

You decide that's enough on your back and lean your full weight back against him, resting your head on his shoulder, and allowing the ice pack to just sit atop your eyes. ‘It's so much easier to be near him when I don't have to see anything’ you think to yourself.

His breath hitches as you lean back against him, sitting right against his chest. He stiffens up a little bit, not expecting such a move, feeling a mixture of surprise and a tiny bit of panic. He was not expecting anything like this... but also, he knows that he should have. He slowly resumes massaging your shoulders, trying to keep himself from reacting to having you so close against him, forcing himself to remain calm.

"You can stop massaging my shoulders now," You whisper quietly, "just hold me." The request is more of a plea, feeling the need to feel loved in the moment.

He almost sighs in relief that you've finally asked for physical comfort from him again. He immediately stops massaging your shoulders, instead wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close, feeling his heart race at finally getting to hold you again. His arms wrap fully around you, pulling you securely back against his chest, letting his cheek rest gently against the top of your head.

"Spencer" You say softly.

His heart skips a beat as you speak, but he doesn’t remove his cheek that rests on the top of your head. He swallows hard, loving the sound of your voice as you speak his name, feeling a wave of relief that you're finally speaking to him on a first name basis again. It means you're finally forgiving him. He can't help but whisper his response in return. "Yes?"

"Don't hurt me again. You've never seen the aftermath until now, but I get these migraines each time you do this. I can't bear another." You don't move and just lie there, listening to his breathing. All the fight has left you, and you just want his love again.

His heart sinks deeper and deeper as your words seem to echo in his brain. The pain returns to his chest knowing that he had hurt you this bad so many times. He feels the burn in his eyes, threatening to turn into tears, but he desperately holds them back, not wanting to lose control in front of you. Today isn’t about him. Spencer refuses to be selfish anymore. He swallows hard, his hold on you tightening, but not too much that it would be uncomfortable. He's desperate to feel you as close to him as possible. "I won't... I swear, I won't do it again..."

"I believe you" You whisper, hoping that you’re not foolish for doing so.

He feels a pang of hope at your words, loving the way that you trust him, even now, when you have every reason not to. "Good... good, that's good..." He says, still trying to keep himself and his emotions in check. He knows better than to push his luck by asking for too much, but he can't help himself, whispering his next words in a quiet, pleading tone. "Can... can I ask you something?"

"What?" You keep your tone neutral, even in whispers.

Spencer swallows hard, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. He knows that you can probably feel it against your back... he tries to steady his voice, feeling extremely nervous at the thought of asking you this. "Can, I... Can I kiss you...?" If you were to look at his face right now, you would see that his eyes are screwed shut, as if he's unable to hold your gaze, as if he's too nervous to look.

You remove the ice pack from your eyes and gaze up at his face "Spencer" You say, waiting for him to turn back to you.

He swallows hard, keeping his eyes shut, trying to prepare himself for whatever you're going to say. He was really hoping that you'd just say yes, that you'd let him kiss you. But he has a horrible feeling that you're about to reject him, and he's trying to hold himself together for when that happens. "Yes...?" He responds, slowly opening his eyes, his heart speeding in his chest as he turns his gaze down to look at you.

You can sense his fear of rejection, and while you still feel sorrowful at the events of today, you’re no longer angry. "It would be an awkward angle to try and kiss in this tub" Yousay, slightly sarcastically but not denying his wish.

His heart stops racing as he notices that you haven't actually said "no" yet. In fact, he's almost certain that that was... dare he think it... you actually accepting it…?? His hopes rise even further hearing you mention that it'd be an awkward angle to kiss in the tub. He can't help but let a little smirk creep onto his face as he responds. "So, if we weren't in the bathtub, you wouldn't mind?"

You roll your eyes. Spencer is back. "Oh brother." You can't help it, a small smile creeps onto your face even with the migraine, though under Spencer’s care, it has ebbed away considerably.

He feels his heart almost skip a beat as he notices your small smile, feeling a wave of relief and hope as he sees you finally, truly smiling at him again. A weight that he didn't know was on his chest feels like it's being lifted, as he responds just as sarcastically as you were being, a smile still playing on his lips. "Hey, don't roll your eyes at me."

"I can do whatever I please, Spencer."

Spencer feels the sudden urge to laugh loudly, but reels himself back in, feeling his heart swell with happiness as you banter with him. He loves this, seeing you finally act like yourself around him again. Finally forgiving him. He responds playfully, not wanting the banter to end. "Whatever you say. I'm still gonna call you out for rolling your eyes at me though."

"You deserved it" Your response is blunt, but still laced with humor.

He smirks again, feeling a bit of his confidence returning. He's loving this playful banter. This feels so familiar. So... normal. He missed this. "You're rude." He responds, in the same playful manner.

"Only because you're dumb" You retort. To the untrained ear, this conversation may seem rude, but it feels so natural with Spencer to tease him this way.

Hearing you call him dumb almost makes him burst into laughter. He's so incredibly relieved that you're acting this way. So playful and sarcastic again. He's not used to you being serious and upset. He responds in the same playful manner, not to be outdone. "Says the girl who lets the guy who 'keeps hurting her' hold her in the bathtub..."

"Give me more sense and I might just change my mind. Don't tempt me." You cock your eyebrow and give him the side eye.

He tries to keep the smirk off of his face, knowing that you probably need rest right now. Hell, he needs some rest...however, he can't help but tease you just a little bit. "Well, that's a shame. I like tempting you."

You glare at him out of the corner of your eye again. "Dumbass." You whisper.

He snickers, trying his hardest not to just burst out into full-on laughter. He loves this, he loves hearing you insult him. It feels right. It feels like things are actually getting back to normal... 

He responds, again, as playful as possible. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say Princess. That's the best you've got?"

"You really want me to dig into you, don't you? Is this some weird degradation kink you have? I'm not into that kind of thing."

He almost actually laughs this time, some of the noise escaping from his lips. Your quick wit always surprises him…you're even implying that he has a 'degradation kink'??? He's definitely not into that.

He snickers one more time before responding, hoping you're just teasing him. "If I had a degradation kink, I don't think I'd be the one getting talked down to here, Princess..."

"You insult me and those will be your final words, Reid" You pull his last name back to show you mean business.

His eyes widen at the stern sound of his last name being said by you. He feels a pang in his heart, but then he notices the hint of a playful smirk on your face, making him sigh in relief. His response comes in a softer tone, though he definitely isn't admitting defeat. "Fine, fine. I'll shut up..."

You let out a soft giggle and relax against him again.

Spencer feels his heart swell as he hears you giggle. It's like music to his ears. It's literally the first laugh he's heard you let out since he hurt you, and it's absolutely beautiful... He swallows hard, trying to keep himself from getting too carried away, as he decides to press his luck a little bit. "Hey, um... Can I ask you something kind of weird, or random?"

"You're full of questions, aren't you doctor?"

He grins a little bit at the fact that you still refuse to call him by his first name, but he'll get there. 

However, hearing you call him 'doctor' does bring another thought to his mind that makes his heart swell... "Yep. And I plan on asking a lot more."

"Fine. Hit me with it" You relent, curious as to what he has to ask.

He takes a deep breath, slowly trying to form the words he wants to say... "Uh... I was kind of wondering if... Um..." He says, pausing for a moment, suddenly feeling so nervous about this. But he needs to ask, so he finally forces the question out without hesitation. "Could I call you by a nickname..?"

You freeze. Well that was unexpected. You turn your head to look at him the best you can while lying against him, "What did you have in mind?" You ask tentatively.

He swallows hard, seeing the unsure look on your face at his suggestion. He decides to just go for it... "It's... stupid... but, um..." He pauses for another second, still nervous that you'll say 'no'. "Can I call you... 'Baby'?"

You giggle a little "Come on doctor, be a little more creative."

He can't help the grin on his face when hearing your challenge. He really loves your attitude, and he really wishes that he wasn't such a coward. He knows that 'baby' is so boring and unoriginal... "Fine, fine..." He grumbles before continuing. "Can I call you..." He pauses for a second, trying to think of a good nickname… "Babe?"

You groan, "That's somehow even worse!" You turn to tuck your shoulder against his side so you can look at him better.

Spencer can't help but chuckle a bit, loving your sassiness and your stubbornness. "Okay, you're just being difficult now..." He responds playfully, feeling his heart race as he looks down at your gaze.

"If I'm gonna allow a nickname, doctor, it better be a good one. Keep thinking."

Spencer feels his heart speed in his chest, loving it when you call him 'doctor' again, especially in the playful manner that you're doing it in. However, he knows that he has a challenge ahead of him... Reid lets out a deep sigh, but he keeps searching for a good nickname. He can't think of anything else off the top of his head though... "Um... I don't know... I'm not so good with this sort of thing, but... 'babe', 'baby', 'darling'... I just don't know."

"You decided on wanting to give me a nickname before thinking of a good one? How short sighted" You say holding in your laughter.

He almost huffs in annoyance, though he's mostly just amused by you. "Shut up." Spencer responds, still looking for a good nickname. He doesn't want to give up yet. "How about..." He says, trying to think of a good pet name that would suit you.

"What is it this time?" You sigh and rest your head against his shoulder and lay your hand on his chest.

He wrecks his mind to find another nickname, hoping that it isn't too corny. "Sweetheart?" He almost scoffs as he says it, realizing right away that it's so unoriginal. At this point, he's actually starting to grow frustrated with himself and how awful he is at pet names.

Your face scrunches up "Ummm...."

He sighs heavily seeing your reaction, knowing that all his attempts have been failures. "Oh, come on, I'm not good at this. If you can come up with something better, then be my guest."

"Sweetie?"

He nearly snorts, thinking that that one is just as bad as 'sweetheart.' "Sweetie?" He responds, trying to hold back his laughter.

You pout. "Hey! You're not being very friendly. I AM sweet."

He can't help but laugh at the little pout on your face. "Okay, okay, you're sweet, but the nickname still makes me wanna laugh." He says still chuckling a bit.

"Isn't it a good thing that the nickname brings you joy too?" ‘Laughter is a good thing, is it not?’ you think to yourself.

Spencer’s laughter dies down as he thinks about what you just said. "I mean... yeah. But I'm pretty sure it's supposed to bring you joy... You're the one that I'm trying to find a nickname for, not me."

"Well, try it out. Use it in a sentence or something and I'll tell you what I think of it."

He hesitates for a second before slowly nodding. "Okay..." He responds quietly, before finally saying it out loud. "...Sweetie?"

You squeal and kick your legs a little bit "No way! That gives you far too much power, we have to think of one that doesn't make me want to hug you." Your tone is full of merriment.

At your reaction to the nickname, Spencer lets out a hearty laugh, smiling as you kick your legs a bit and giving you a curious glance. "Oh? And why wouldn't you want to hug me?"

You squint your eyes at him "You're testing me again. Foolish man."

He smirks, enjoying your playful banter too much to stop. "I absolutely am." He responds, almost daring you to challenge him further.

You let out a ‘humph’ and turn back around, quickly pressing your weight back against him, trying to knock the breath out of his chest. When you hear an ‘OOF,’ you know that you were successful at catching him off guard.

"Feisty... I like it..."

"I'll show you feisty, you popsicle stick" You mumble.

He chuckles at your pathetic little insult. "A popsicle stick? Come on. You can insult me better than that."

"Again with the degradation kink. What is it with you??? Weirdo." The last word comes out in a whisper, trying to sound horrified at Spencer.

"Hey, I'm not the one who came up with a not-so insulting nickname that makes us both sound very hungry, princess..."

You glance back at him wondering if he's realized it yet, but alas, Spencer is as thick headed as he is smart. His face is the picture of dumbfounded confusion. He hasn’t realized anything.

"Uh... What?" Spencer says cautiously.

"You've already given me a nickname, ya nitwit" Punctuating your sentence with an eye roll.

"Wait, what? No I haven't. Sweetheart doesn't count..." ‘Clueless as ever,’ you think at his response.

"If I keep rolling my eyes, I'm gonna lose them in the back of my head at this point. I need to talk to whoever tested your genius and give him a piece of my mind. That's not what I meant."

"Then...what the hell are you talking about?"

"Princess" You say with a 'duh' tone. "You only use it when you're being sassy, but you've used it more than once tonight."

He feels like an idiot. "Oh...right..." He pauses for a moment, finally coming to a realization. "But...it's not even a real nickname. I mean, I don't really call you princess seriously."

At that, you fix him with a deadly glare. "Am I or am I not a pretty princess?"

He immediately regrets what he just said, the fact that you're a princess being extremely obvious in his eyes. "Yes! Yes, you're a pretty princess..."

"Good. It's settled then."

He sighs in relief. Feeling like he's escaped your ire for now. "I can't believe I didn't realize I'd already given you a nickname until right now." He pauses for a second, though he has another question. "How long have you noticed that I only call you that when I'm being sassy?" Genuinely wondering how long he's been subconsciously calling you that without realizing it.

"I notice a lot more than you do, doctor." Your response stays cryptic, not wishing to give away how long you have been making tiny notes about how he shows affection.

He scoffs a bit as he responds. "Alright, yeah. Don't rub it in, princess." Spencer tries to hold back a grin.

You let out a sigh, deciding that you want to get out of the tub, but would rather be clean first "The princess has a demand for her most loyal servant" You say in an over-the-top royal voice.

He barely holds himself together at your sudden change in character. He decides to indulge you, enjoying the banter.

"Yes, your majesty. Anything for you." He responds, playing along with your little game.

You give him a sideways glance "are you truly the most loyal" You ask, squinting your eyes at him in scrutinization.

He smirks as he responds, already knowing what you're getting at.

"I assure you, Princess, I am most loyal to no one more than you." He says, giving you a playful wink.

"Very well then. I need to be washed. Grab the soap, my servant."

He smiles, loving how into this you're getting as he reaches for the soap.

"Yes, Princess." Spencer responds, reaching to hand you the soap so that you can wash yourself. He doesn't know what the extent of your 'demands' will be.

You turn back around and make no moves to reach for the soap "well?" You say expectantly.

His hand freezes in midair, holding a bar of soap and he is back to being unsure of what to do.

"You want me to wash you myself?" He asks cautiously, not wanting to cross any boundaries here.

"A princess does not wash herself." You say petulantly.

He finally smiles, amused by your playfulness as he responds. "Yes, your majesty." He says, before beginning to run the bar of soap gently down your back, washing your shoulders first.

"You know, your majesty is reserved for a queen. Your highness is what you call a princess" You say this a little absentmindedly, appreciating his gentle movements.

He grins a bit, amused by your correction of his incorrect use of royal terminology. He continues washing your back before responding. "I'll be sure to remember that, your highness." He moves one of his hands to gently run along your side, washing your waist now.

You take a deep breath and relax against him once again. "I'll forgive the misspeak, this time."

"Thank you, your highness." He responds playfully, moving the soap along your waist and stomach. "Now, if you'll permit me... Could I have the honor of washing your chest?"

"My request to be washed included my whole body, you lowly servant" You say this in a 'you should know that' tone.

A grin splits Spencer’s face at your little scolding tone, loving your princess behavior. "Yes, of course, your highness. My apologies." He responds, moving one hand closer to the middle of your chest now, gently lathering soap across your skin there.

You bite your lip to hide your grin, pleased at how he's treating you with such care.

However, Spencer spots your grin and he just knows that you're enjoying this. He decides to test your royal highness by asking another question. "May I ask something, your highness?"

You pull your face back to a royal one and give him a sideways glance. "I'll allow it."

‘Gosh, I missed seeing her like this’ Spencer thinks to himself. ‘She really fits the princess title.’ He moves his hand along your chest, making sure to get every spot. "Well... I was just wondering... Do you really need help washing your legs?" He asks, a little bit nervous about your reaction. He knows he's pushing it a little bit here.

You scoff again "You tell me servant, are my legs a part of my body?" You know you’re being a brat, but this game is far too fun to stop now.

A smirk cracks his face, scaring away his nervousness. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, and right now is exactly why. "Yes, your highness, your legs are indeed a part of your body."

"Then use the tiny brain that you seem to possess and rethink the order I gave you."

His smirk grows, finding this little bit of your stubbornness strangely playful and adorable. He moves his hand down to your thighs. "Very well, your highness. I will use my tiny brain to wash your legs now."

"Smart choice. Make another mistake and I'll have your head." Teasing him is far too much fun. It's not everyday that you can call a genius a pea-brain.

His smirk refuses to leave his face, knowing that your threat holds no weight. He moves his hands down from your thighs to your calves, making sure that your legs are covered completely in soap.

"Don't worry, I'm a quick learner." He responds, still in the playful mood.

"It isn't me that should be worrying. Princesses do not worry over petty servants" Crossing your arms to punctuate the sentence.

He lets out a soft laugh at your little show of attitude. He decides to play along again, playing the role of the humble servant and 'admitting his mistake.'"Forgive me, your highness. What I meant to say was that I know you do not worry because you are a princess who doesn't worry over petty servants."

"Goodness, I can almost feel your tiny brain growing the longer you spend in my royal presence."

Spencer snorts a bit, loving the way that you keep coming up with new ways to say that his brain is small. It's honestly almost cute the way you keep trying. "Yes, all of the royal knowledge that you've bestowed upon me is truly overwhelming me, your highness."

"I am endlessly gracious, aren't I?"

He smiles, loving how fast your sarcasm comes in this situation, deciding to push the boundary just a bit further. "Yes, yes, you truly are endlessly gracious. Now... I do have one last place that your highness needs washed. Or do you want to do that yourself?" He asks, trying to fight back a smirk.

"Lowly servant! Must I repeat myself again, or would you rather keep your head?" You give him a look saying that you know what he's thinking, but there's no way you’ll be backing down from this challenge.

He smirks, loving how committed you are to your little act. He decides to continue, already knowing that you're not gonna back down. "My apologies, your highness. You'll have to give me specific instructions though... Your loyal servant is a bit dense."

"Dense is to gracious a word for how pathetic my lowly servant is, my God. If you don't wash me there right now, I will have you thrown out on your behind. Headless."

The chuckle he lets escape his lips hearing your stubbornness is downright sinful... but the more you talk like this...he has to admit...fuck it’s turning him on. He does his best to hide it though, knowing that it would ruin the game. "Oh, your highness, I beg of you, please forgive me for my mistake." He moves his hands down further, gently rubbing soap onto the parts of your inner thighs, slowly letting his hands move closer and closer to your innermost area.

"Is there no end to my graciousness? I will forgive you only if you complete your final task perfectly."

Spencer smirks, he absolutely loves your little game. "There truly is no end to your graciousness, your highness..." He moves even closer, his hands almost... but not quite touching your most sensitive area. "I pray I can complete this final task perfectly."

"Don't pray to a god, my servant, pray to me" You tilt your head back against his shoulder and let out a sensual exhale.

His smirk grows, loving that you're enjoying this just as much as he is. "You are right... I am no true believer of a god..." He responds before leaning in a little closer, speaking gently in your ear with a voice full of reverence and devotion. "I pray to only you, your highness."

"You truly are my most loyal" You whisper in anticipation of him finally reaching me where you need it most.

His jaw nearly drops as he hears you speak in such a sensual tone. He almost loses it, and he nearly does lose it as he recognizes the soft anticipation behind your voice. He decides to get right to the point, slowly moving his hands forward until he's just barely touching you, the feeling making his heart race even more. "Your highness... May I...? It is my final task..."

"Please" Your voice comes out desperate, your facade of being demanding crumbling slightly. "Make your goddess feel good."

He swallows hard at your desperate plea, feeling his heart race at the use of the term 'goddess' from you. Spencer can see it clearly now, you are his goddess, and he keeps returning to you, longing to worship you. He decides to go for it, trying to fight back a moan as he responds in a low tone. "As my goddess commands..." He slowly moves one of his hands forward, finally touching you between your legs.

A breath leaves you quickly in relief, and your hips buck up against his hand, Spencer knows just how to build up your desperation, and he’s done his best work tonight.

Spencer feels your reaction to his touch and lets out a pained groan. He leans a bit more forward, kissing your cheek and bringing his mouth closer to your ear. "Just relax and follow my lead, my goddess..." He says, his voice low and soft, full of lust and devotion, as he starts to gently caress and explore you with his fingers.

"As you wish" You manage to say, your voice breathy and full of need.

Spencer’s heart skips a beat hearing your voice, the need, the trust, the desperation in it fueling his flame. Spencer starts slow with gentle circles around your clit, but he gives a light tap tap tap against it and you jolt at the intense feeling. He can't help but let out a sigh, his breath warm against your neck, as he feels himself getting more worked up by this with every passing second. Spencer does his very best to hold back a groan, but he can't help but feel like this is the most intimate moment he's ever shared with you. You have trusted him to care for you when you were hurting, and now you are allowing him to bring you pleasure.

"More~~" You truly can't help but beg him regardless of the fact it’s unnecessary to do, he's always known exactly what you need.

He lets out a soft, shaky moan as you whimper into his ear, your soft voice sending a shiver down his spine. He obliges, his fingers still moving in a circular motion, continuing to massage that same place with the same slow, gentle pace as he whispers into your ear with a low, shaky breath. "That's it, my goddess... Just let me take care of you..." Spencer moves his other hand down to join the first and gently circles your entrance before gently dipping inside.

A broken moan leaves your lips. ‘Finally,’ you think with a sigh of relief.

His heartbeat speeds up even more, his breath becoming more and more shaky as the moment grows even more intimate. He starts to increase his pressure against your clit, dipping his long fingers as deep as they can reach. His fingers gradually speed up their pace and movement, continuing to let your soft, needy moans and whimpers fill his ears as the sound drives him crazy. He begins to kiss and nibble on your neck and jaw, his breath warm against your skin.

Your breath picks up speed, and your hips can no longer keep still, you need more, but don't know how to ask for it.

But you needn’t say a word. Spencer can feel the need in your movements, as well as hear it in the soft breaths that are leaving your lips. He knows what you need, so he takes it upon himself to give it to you, as he synchronizes the movements of both of his hands and turns to bite down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, trying to fight back a moan of his own as he feels how badly you want it.

"Spencer" You finally break, crashing through your release, your hands grasping at his wrists to hold his hands against you, not allowing them to leave your body.

His jaw drops a bit, breathing deeply through his nose trying to keep his composure. He feels you spasming around his fingers, and he gently guides you through the feeling and slowly brings you back to the present. He can't help but moan a little bit, feeling your hands hold him in place, keeping him down there. He waits until you've rode it out before slowly, reluctantly and gently pulling his hands away.

"Thank you" It’s an odd thing to say in a moment like this, but it feels right anyway.

He lets out an unsteady breath, almost like he's panting from all of the emotion and need of the moment, before voicing his response. "You're welcome, my goddess..." Pulling his head away from your neck, Spencer stares at you for a moment and his eyes scan your face, as if he's looking at you for the first time. He stares at you for a few more seconds, the love and care crystal clear in his gaze before he finally speaks again. "You're so beautiful like this..."

"Help me from the tub, my loyal follower, I'm starting to catch a chill from the cooling water" You look at him, and the emotions in his eyes reflect in your own.

"Yes, my goddess." He responds with a soft, warm smile, slowly standing up without breaking eye contact with you. Spencer’s hands gently tuck under your arms, using his strength to lift you from the water and he helps you out of the tub before quickly grabbing a towel to help you dry off. Spencer starts on his next task to softly dry every last part of you...just because he can.

You stand there watching him dry you reverently, finally feeling the love you've been needing for so long.

Spencer stares into your eyes as he gently rubs the towel over your bare skin, drying every last part of you off without missing an inch. It's clear from the look in his eyes that he loves nothing in this world as much as he loves doing this with you, taking care of you and loving on you. Once he's finally satisfied that you're dry, he glances down, grabbing the edge of the towel and gently wrapping it around your body, leaving you tucked into a little bundle.

"I'm a burrito goddess" You say, the migraine has mostly gone away, but you blame it for the stupid comment anyway as you make your way back to the bedroom and grab a fluffy robe. After putting it on, you open the drawer that holds a few spare clothes Spencer left behind at your place from last nights he spent here and pass him a clean and dry pair of underwear.

He lets out a soft snort at your cute little comment, watching you walk back to the bedroom and put on your fuzzy robe. When you return with his spare underwear, he takes them with one hand, watching you with a small smile. "Thanks." He says, deciding to go on ahead and remove the sopping wet pair he has on and slip the clean pair on right in front of you, not caring if you see. He knows it's silly, but he wants you to see that he's completely comfortable being this vulnerable with you.

"Come lay with me?" You ask, not wanting it to sound sexual, but needing reassurance that he's staying the night.

He looks at you for a second before gently and softly responding. "That was the plan." He responds, loving that you're feeling vulnerable enough to even ask. He walks up to you, leaning down and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a light hug and taking in your scent, kissing your head softly for a moment before pulling away and staring into your eyes. "Of course I'll lay with you..." He responds, his voice soft and comforting.

You tilt your head back, finally giving him the kiss he asked for at the beginning of the bath.

Spencer leans forward, his eyes fluttering a bit as he finally feels your lips against his, savoring the feeling of you finally kissing him, he closes his eyes and kisses you back softly. After a few seconds, he reluctantly pulls away, though he keeps his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes slowly open to stare into your eyes. He smiles a bit and speaks again. "I could kiss you like that all day."

"Even if people see you do it?" You prod because he seems to lose his nerve to show his feelings for you when you’re not alone. That's why you were hurt in the first place.

Spencer immediately realizes what you're talking about, and his smile slowly fades. "You're right. That was kind of a dick move on my part." He swallows hard, guilt returning, and he can't help but look away from your gaze, ashamed of himself.

"I just don't want you to be ashamed of me, of us." Your voice is soft and non accusatory.

He takes another deep breath before slowly looking back at you, his jaw quivering a bit, his voice shaky. "I'm not ashamed of you. I think you're perfect." He shakes his head, his stomach twisting and churning with guilt. "I'm ashamed of myself. You deserve better than someone like me. Someone who doesn't want to lose everyone around him. Someone who doesn't run away from his feelings. Someone who is terrified of being vulnerable. Someone who doesn't... can't... allow himself to be loved."

"My love is there for you. Whether or not you accept it, is a choice you make on your own." You say this and turn to go lay down, still feeling the exhaustion that grips your bones.

He swallows hard, letting you go as you walk over to the bed. He decides to wait by the edge, watching you, before finally responding softly. "Just a choice I have to make, huh?" He slowly walks over to the bed, climbing under the covers with you. He looks at you for a moment, deciding to try and take a leap here... "And if I decide to take that love that you're offering...What will you do?"

"Give you more" You say it simply, for what else could you do?

Spencer blinks back tears, feeling his heart race and his stomach knot again as he listens to your response, staring at you, not able to look away.

"What could 'more' possibly be? You say that you love me...What could be more than that?" He asks, genuinely curious, as his eyes trace over every detail of your face.

"The amount of love a goddess shares is endless and self sacrificing. I will love you to the ends of the earth. Just stop being afraid of it" You look at him seriously.

His expression softens a bit as he listens to your words, unable to look away from those gorgeous eyes of yours, his heartbeat speeding up as he slowly nods. "I'm just not used to being loved, at least not in a way that isn't painful..." Spencer never breaks eye contact with you, feeling as though he's baring his soul to you in this moment.

"Love shouldn't hurt, Spencer" Calling him by his name feels right again, so you say it with reverence.

He swallows hard again, loving hearing his name on your lips. It's been too long since he's heard that reverent, loving tone come from you.

"I know it shouldn't, my goddess..." He responds, his own voice still shaky, but full of love and care. His head drops back to the pillow and Spencer finally finds the moment too much to keep eye contact. His eyes close.

"Then stop running from it. I'm only your goddess, I don't need any more followers. I have so much love to give and only you to lavish it upon. Let yourself be loved for real."

He slowly nods, reconnecting his gaze with yours. "Alright... Yeah... You're right." His voice is shaky at first, but he slowly finds his confidence again as his voice gains strength and conviction. "I'm tired of running, Princess...I don't want to run anymore. No matter what happens, I'm not leaving you again..."

"Good. That's what I needed to hear." Your tone holds finality in it, and Spencer feels a little stupid at how simple your logic is in this situation. Why hasn’t he seen how well you fit together? Why has it taken him so long to accept your love?

He stares at you for a moment before slowly nodding. "Yeah, me too."

With that, he slowly slides closer to you under the covers, gently wrapping his arms around you, as if making sure that you're real and that he isn't dreaming all of this... Spencer loves the feeling of you in his arms, he loves knowing that you're not going to leave or run away at the first sign of him being vulnerable and trying to trust you.

You finally give in to your exhaustion, drifting off into a pleasant sleep. Spencer watches as your breathing settles and your body relaxes as you fall asleep in his arms, feeling his tense, stressed body calm significantly as he holds you. He takes a moment to just savor the weight and feeling of you in his arms, the feeling of truly loving and being loved with no running, fighting, or hiding. He smiles softly, finally feeling safe, as he kisses your head softly and gently. Without even trying to stay awake, he soon allows you to drag him into sleep with you, and he does so happily, without resistance, finally completely at peace.

[bu-blegh-ost]

A short essay about how Caspian is mathematically not a mole (ep. 115 spoilers) (and for the whole series for that matter)

Okay, alright guys, I saw your concerns. I saw it all, and you are right to be worried that your favourite blue wet man's blue and equally wet best friend may turn out to be a traitor. And so am I, trust me. Which is why I went through every single bit of Caspian's past I could dig out to create an unltimate timeline of his entire goddamn life to see it it'd be plausible for him to become a mole at any point in time and ultimately prove his innocence! If that's something you're interested in reading, then buckle up!

"Jay, you come from a division of soliders that were purposely put to infiltrate pirate crews, especially the new and upcoming ones. This is totally seperate from the Black-Ops situation that you learned about in the Stronghold. And you, in this book, can tell that there is a plant on Lizzie's crew."

This, of course is something I need to point out first. Whoever Lizzie's mole might be, they are not a doppelganger. They are not a clone, or Black-Ops, just a solider of the Navy, a person that must have gotten into the Navy via regular recruitment, be trained by them and then put into a spy division. Jay ofc had this entire process sped up, due to her grandma's influence, but no one other than her, especially an Undersea citizen, who would probably have to put in extra effort to be trusted given their shaky political situation few years back, would get the same treatment. What I'm trying to say, Caspian would need time, at least few years of training to become a mole they'd trust to infiltrate a crew, and not just any crew might I add. More on that later. Let's go back to his most early years for now. This is a fragment of episode 84 in which Caspian talks to Gillion abt his early life:

C: We all have family. I consider my life up here, this crew to be my found family. But my previous…tribe with the water genasi in the Undersea, where I was growing up…sort of in a [illegible]... remember me telling you about the outskirts? We um…was very nomadic, quite a, quite a peaceful, tranquil life, but it was always, you know…mixed with this life of poverty and my family wasn’t very…wouldn’t really have much but the water around us, and each other, I suppose, so uh…You know...I mean my mother didn’t make it past old age, and uh…

G: I’m sorry…

C: When my sister left the tribe, my father sort of fell into a depression of sorts and he stopped moving around. And when we stayed in one place, I was 18 or so, maybe 16, it was a while ago, and then…that’s when I left as well. Ventured to the Oversea, and um…and it’s history, so that’s my family. Not sure what they’re up to these days, I mean…I know my sister went to the capital, where you were.

G: Pirating is a pretty lucrative business, maybe if…we managed to find them or run into them, we can give something back, put them in a better situation.

C: …Well um…I mean this was 10-15, 10 to 12 to 15 years ago, quite some, quite some time, so I don’t even know if my father is alive still, I mean I don’t really have the desire to go back to the undersea, Gill.

G: Wha-why not?

C: Because I like my life up here. This is where I’m happy.

So, before we go to what all of that entails, one more quick crazy thing to mention: so, Caspian's sister is an Elder of the Undersea. Like for sure. This is confirmed by this part from ep. 79:

The Triton who you remember as the Elder Odolaf, who looks like he is about to speak, but is cut off by the water genasi, who has been doing a lot of talking thus far, who is Elder Celeste. They stand up and there is a familiarity that you notice now in their face. It’s like you have met them before, but not in the way that you know them because they are the Elder, but in a way that it’s like, they look like somebody you know. And she has sort of these uh, white tied-up like dreads that are tied up in like a bun and they come across the face and then one side is shaved. And there are beads and piercings in her hair, her ears are a little bit more sea elf-like in the way that they are pointed and they kind of like gradient into pink. They all kind of wear the same sort of ornate robes, though hers is more, I guess faded and like cut a bit, look a bit more warriorous, or like tribal, but still very well-made and professional.

Tribal clothing, a water genasi, that looks like someone Gillion saw before in the face. The only water genasi Gillion met after leaving the Undersea is Caspian. Elder Celeste is Caspian's sister. Wild. Anyway, not what we're here for, but I needed to mention that.

The crazier thing is that Caspian left to Oversea when he was 16-18, and it has been 10-15 years since then. That means Caspian is currently 26 at possible youngest, and 33 at his oldest, which was surprising to me, I did not imagine Caspian as a man in his 30s! But that's straight up facts, so holy shit, you know?

Okay, so I'm going to list a lot of small facts that determine a lot of ages in quick succession. I hope it's not gonna be too scary to look at, I'll simplify it all at the end. [Deep inhale]

Right now Gillion is 22. So when Caspian left the Undersea, Gillion was 12-7. Jay is 21 and Ava was 2 years older, same age as Lizzie. So Lizzie is 23 now. When Caspian left the Undersea, she was 13-8. Chip is 19, so Lizzie is 4 years older. Hole in the Sea happened when Chip was 9, so Lizzie was 13. So Caspian left the Undersea around the same time Lizzie crashed on the uninhabited island with Chey after the Hole.

It's a lot, I know, I know. So let me clear this up a little.

Hole in the sea was 10 years ago. Chip was 9, Lizzie was 13. 10 years ago Caspian was in the age between 16 and 23, and he left the Undersea when he was 16 or 18. So roughly at the same time the Black Sea happened, Caspian came to the surface for the first time.

(also pls note that we are talking in estimates, casue in ep. 36 Lizzie says she was 11 when the hole happened, but in ep. 101 she says she was the same age as Ava which by the power of math would put her at 13. Either way, somewhere around that age)

After that, Lizzie spend some time on an uninhabited island with Chey, the Black Rose cook, who sacrificed herself for Liz, so she could survive and died shortly after. We do not know how much time passed, but I assume no longer than few months, and after that she was saved by Captain Shadowbeard where she met Caspian. They were a part of Shadowbeard's crew, Caspian saved her from the massacre where Shadowbeard was killed, and then Lizzie went on to create her own crew, Grandberry Pirates with Caspian never leaving her for a second since he met her. That means that the only time Caspian could have joined the Navy would be RIGHT after he came to the Oversea for the first time, roughly at the same time Lizzie was stranded on an island, and in that short period of time (between Lizzie's crash on the island and her being found by Shadowbeard) he would have to find the time to be trusted and accepted by Navy, get trained specifically for infiltration AND infiltrate not anyones BUT FUCKING SHADOWBEARD'S SHIP. Not a NEW crew. A crew of one of the most legendary pirates on the sea. Cause before Lizzie, Caspian was Sadowbeard's crew member, and since then he never stopped being a pirate, so if he was a solider, he would have had to be one before Shadowbeard. And remeber what Grizzly said in 115: "Jay, you come from a division of soliders that were purposely put to infiltrate pirate crews, especially the new and upcoming ones."

Shadowbeard was not new. Not upcoming. He was dangerous and Navy must have had the balls of steal to send a rookie solider, which Caspian would have been at that point in time, to infiltrate him. The numbers say it's impossible. Guys, the numbers! They don't add up!

Anyway, so basically Caspian could not be a mole. He is not a new pirate, he was not a member of a fresh crew, becaue his pirate journey did not start with Lizzy, it started with Shadowbeard. Grandberry Pirates is a new crew, but Caspian is not a newbie in it. You know who is? Rudith. I mean what kind of doctor lets a bunch of rowdy pirates have a secret base under a place where sick and vulnerable rest??? Like ANY other place would have been better and more respectful! Also you know what's interesting? Gillion could heal these people with lay on hands easily, and yet the only thing Rudith did for them was give them potions that didn't seem to help and look after them on purely non-medical level. Bro didn't do shit. Like, why would you even become a doctor without having access to healing magic? The answer, you are not. You are a Navy solider in disguise.

Okay, okay, I'm done, that's all. If you got this far, you are a hero, thank you for reading this insanely long ramble, but that's kind of the conclusions that I came to, of course, any counter-theories and discussion in general is very much welcome! I'd love to hear your opinions! Love you guys, bye~

[aritsukemo]

Sick Day Chronicle | Illness Unease | Yuichiro Tokito

Summary: Sick days are the worst, but at least you get the pleasure of having your partner take time out of their otherwise busy schedule to take care of you! <3

Warnings: None.

A/N: Okay, I know I have a lot of request that I should be working on and I'm sorry to everyone who's requested something and has seen no result from me, but I actually have an excuse right now! ...That excuse being that my entire family, including me, is very, very sick. That being said, take this purely indulgent fic series that I may or may not complete in the meantime! :D

Day One: Yuichiro Tokito | Day Two: Shinobu Kocho | Day Three: Muichiro Tokito | Day Four: Tanjiro Kamado | Day Five: Aoi Kanzaki

"You should rest," The words were as funny to hear from you as they were frustrating. You're telling him to rest? You're telling him to rest when you're the one who needs it the most? When you're the one bedridden with a fever of nearly a hundred and two degrees?

"I'm fine," The words leave his lips in a soft hush—words which were once pointed, and yet lost it's edge as they slide against his tongue and out his mouth. That happens a lot when he speaks to you. Even when you're being the most annoying person ever, he just can't use that harsh tone he uses with everyone else..

Guess that's what love does to a person—especially one as madly in love as Yuichiro..

"You haven't slept since you found out I fell ill. At this rate, you'll pass out.." You remind, face scrunching up before immediately relaxing as a cool weight envelopes your forehead.

"You should worry about yourself," He says, but again, his words were as soft as the pillow you were laying your head on. He couldn't even muster that terrifyingly stern tone of his that Shinobu always scolds him for using with patients. That stern tone that—unlike his mentor-slash-boss, who's stern voice is doused in honeyed care and the warmth of a mother's concern—is nothing short of disgruntled and downright condescending, making whoever he's talking to want to bow their head to the ground and apologize for ever wasting his time by doing something as idiotic as getting themselves injured.

You're glad, ecstatic even to have such a privilege. After all, Yuichiro can be plenty ruthless when he wants to be and you've heard his scoldings are the absolute worst. To deal with that and all these symptoms you're forced to put up with would be torture..

"I am, but I'm also worried about you," You confess, "You're slowly running yourself into the ground. Everyone sees it, that's why Ms. Kocho and Aoi offered to take your usual duties off your hands today. They want you to rest."

Your words fall upon purposefully deafened ears and Yuichiro goes about stripping you of the towel that was keeping you somewhat cool despite just laying it across your forehead—swiftly going about the process of dunking it in the bucket of icy water next to your bed and wringing the excess water out of it.

He brings it to your head again, but this time, as he lays it across your skin, you reach up and grab his wrist. He resists, attempting to pull away only to fail miserably to which he huffs. Even weakened by sickness, you were still leagues stronger than him..damnit.

"Yuichiro, please listen to me," You said, sliding your hand down his wrist and then intertwining his cold hands with your warmer, damp ones and ignoring the way he grimaces a little at the feeling, "It's just a bad cold, nothing serious. I won't drop dead if you take some time to yourself."

Drop dead, a poor choice of words deeming what he's been through in the past. You quickly become aware of that fact and gently squeeze his hand as if to silently apologize for any damage you may have accidentally done. He squeezes your hand back, but the way he gazes down at you makes you unable to tell if he's accepted the apology or didn't even catch your slip of the tongue and was simply thinking of other things.

"I..just.." He hesitates, and that new swirl in his eyes tells it all. Like opening a book, you're able to see every word of doubt and fear whirling in those two sheets of minty hues before he's ever able to say them aloud. You wait anyway though, and he finally mutters out, "..I don't want that to happen again.."

Using the time he hesitated to think up a response, your quick to retort with, "And it won't. I'd never allow that to happen."

"You can't control an illness, Y/n," Finally you hear it. It's only there for a second and it's mixed with a heavy layer of desperation, but you heard it; that spurt of anger in his tone, "And if it isn't constantly watched and treated it can turn into something incurable and if that happens you'll—"

"That will never happen, Yuichiro—"

"You don't know that!" It's there again, but now it's ten times worse. His anger has meshed with anguish and turned to pure fury. It's odd for it to be directed at you. After all, anger this bad isn't even directed at his patients so for it to be directed at you, his lover, is a little scary, you'll admit..

"An illness is capable of anything and can bring even the strongest soldiers down! I've seen it happen more than once and if you don't shut up and let me tend to you, there's a possibility the same will happen to you and I can't allow that!" In his fit of rage, you notice the crystal lining of tears along his water line and seeing it felt as if an actual crystal was stabbed into your heart.

It wasn't often Yuichiro cried and he never let anyone besides you see him like that, not his even his twin brother. You can see why that may be. After all, the sight of his eyes full of tears makes him seem like some little kid no matter what emotion he shows with it. Seeing it makes you want nothing more than to pull him in your arms and protect him from the world—something your confident Yuichiro would hate with every fiber of his being..

"I- I can't allow that to happen..no matter what.." He whispers those words out to you and the cracks in the voice he tries to hide with an airy tone leaves it's own crack on your heart and causes it to ache. He sounds like a heartbroken poet...or maybe a kicked puppy would be more accurate.

"If I lost you I wouldn't know what to do..I-.. I'd—" And then you finally open your mouth to shush him, leaning over a little to grab his other hand as you do.

"Ssh, ssh.. Thinking stuff like that will only get you worked up unnecessarily," You try to mimic that pillowy tone he always talks to you in, adding a whisper to it to give your voice a more soothing effect as you roll your thumbs against the dorsal skin of his hands.

"It's really no need to overreact. With you working as hard as you have been these past few days, this cold of mine has barely been standing a chance. Plus, I know that as soon as Ms. Kocho has the time, she'll concoct something that'll have me bouncing right back up."

You tug at his hands suddenly and the unexpected change in weight cause him to tip over. Upon that happening, you immediately slither your arms around him and by the time his face hits your chest, he's completely caged against you—just like you wanted. After all, having him like this gives you the perfect opportunity to do something he hasn't allowed you to do in quite a while; play with his hair.

Your quick with undoing his ponytail and immediately take the leisure of running your hand through his hair—reveling in the way it changes from black to mint green and slips through your fingers with ease, "Like I said before, it'd take a lot more than this to take me out."

"I'm strong, Yuichiro. I can handle this. I've been in far more dire situations before, haven't I?" You repeat your action; starting at his scalp and slowly sliding your fingers through his pretty locks with a gentle smile stretched on your ablazed skin, "And for these past few days, I've had my amazing and skilled boyfriend tending to me without rest. I highly doubt that in the few hours he uses to rest, my cold will suddenly turn into something incurable like he says it will."

It must've finally dawned on him the position the two of you were in because he lifts his head and glares at you. His cheeks are dusted a cherry blossom pink and you giggle at the sight. He really did seem like a kid when he acted like this, but for the sake of your eardrums and emotional wellbeing, you decide not to voice that thought out loud.

"Dummy, you'll get me sick.." He grumbles, but still buries his face in the fabric of your patient uniform. Your grin widens further at both the sight and the feeling of the crack in your heart finally being mended by seeing him less distressed.

"Perfect! If you got sick, you'll have no choice but to rest and I'll get the opportunity to take care of you for once!" He huffs at your answer. Of course you'd say something like that..

It really was a stupid response though. To him, you take care of him all the time by making his heart flutter like the butterflies surrounding the estate and make his worries wash away like you did just now, leaving him to feel nothing but this light, warm feeling that he's slowly growing addicted to. You merely tending to him while he's sick pales in comparison to that.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[vinestaffery]

hello! May I request a Valk x reader fluff scenario? probs just either of them having a rough day and having a cuddle session with the other :D

Hello!!! The first start of the scene is inspired off of Mayans MC Grocery Store Scene, from Season 4! I felt like it's a great way I feel about umm people that are overall just really mean and such or just rude. Hope this is good enough!! I gotta sleep RIGHT after this one too, so I'm happy to be able to pump this out!!! Enjoy!!! ALSO I JUST REALIZED I MISREAD YOUR REQUEST AND GAVE YOU A ONESHOT. I AM SO SORRY.

VALK X READER FLUFF

Today was not the day for you. Working 9 hours per day, being yelled at by customers endlessly for just trying to scan their food in. It was getting tiring than ever. “Next,” you said in a deaf-tone. Another demon, specifically one that looks overall pissed.

“Make this quick! I need to get somewhere.” You had more of enough proof with your facial expression you did not give much of a fuck. With how they were speaking, how they were blabbing to whoever on the phone. You just wanted out of here.

Scanning endlessly of the foods, you listened quietly to the sound of the radio playing. The supermarket was not the greatest place to get money or to find peace, but it surely made you become more religious than ever, praying to the SFoTH that you make it out alive in the next few hours.

People started lining up, growing more anxious by the second as they waited slowly for the lady you were serving to quit blabbing. It was until she interrupted you mid-packing her food. “Don’t forget to put a double-bag, paper bags have always been useless.” I mean, you could understand her at that point. 

Paper bags were useless, especially with how easily breakable they were. It was the first thing you let slide in your head. Placing more food together, adding up as you waited patiently and sorted each carefully. “Don’t put chemicals in food! Are you insane?” That pulled a nerve.

Re-sorting and plucking everything out of the bag, you didn’t show any sign of hesitation or resistence. You just carried on, customers always know best. Their highest priority is this stupid supermarket food-chain. As you resorted, you placed more food down below.

“Is this your first day? Are you kidding me? Everyone knows you don’t put the weak food at the bottom of the bag. I mean, c’mon!” The demon let out a snort, snickering.

Your fingers wrapped around the food, pulling one out and putting the heaviest sense of shopping load into the bag. You didn’t make any sound, your eyes focused on each food taken in hand. “Sorry, this stupid clerk just won’t do the shopping right. I know, they seriously need to learn…”

— 🌕  AT NIGHT .

You walked in through the door of the shared department, shaky breaths as you followed the small light-source coming from the hallway. You could hear him, how your body yearned for him once more. 

The sound of his singing, it made you feel every tight nerve in your body collapse. Your hesitant footsteps as the bits of food stuck your hair together. You couldn’t help but sniffle, a tear dropping down your cheek from the overwhelming stress in your head. It was ripping at your scalp.

“My sunshine? Is that you?” That familiar voice.

“Here…” You let out a cracked voice as you saw that yellow-horned demon once more. Valk. The love of your life ever since that first day meeting one another accidentally on the street. It was hilarious when you found out he was the all-time star on the radio. 

“Oh, my sunshine! I might cookies, if you’d like–” His head turned to face you, only to stop in his place as his voice slowly pitched down – “to have some together…” You could hear that concern in his voice. 

“...” Silence is all that could be heard. 

“I had a bad day, today,” You could only pipe up about it, as you fell to tears. It was like all chains of your body that dug deep into your soft skin had finally let you go. It was an agonising walk home, and it was even harder to get up the apartment stairs. 

Valk knew what to do, as he walked closer as he held you. You immediately collapsed in his arms. “Sunshine, sunshine. I’m here, oh my poor light,” his words were like angels from the heavens, speaking their godly verses.

“I got fired from my job,” You laughed into his shoulder, egg remnants slowly pouring onto his t-shirt. He let out a sigh. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” Keeping you close, you both trudged to the bathroom, to where he helped you get clean. It wasn’t too long until you both were cuddling on the couch.

“So you got fired? For what?” Valk piped up, a blanket draped across you as his arm extended out behind your neck. The television flickered on movie scenes that never seemed to catch your interest. “I accidentally destroyed a person’s shopping, but they deserved it. They wouldn’t shut up.” 

Valk couldn’t tell if he should be disappointed, but he didn’t want to continue the worst case-scenario forever. “Well, then that’s okay. Maybe they did deserve it. Just hope you can get another job again.” Valk was always the one to look to the bright sides, while you struggle with both pros and cons on existing life. “I hope so,” you meekly shuddered.

His warmth was inviting, it was nights and days like these where you wish to rest in his lap all the time. He didn’t mean, you being there with him made him even happier. As your eyes struggled to keep open, now clean and close to him, he couldn’t help but laugh. 

Caressing your cheek, he kissed your forehead. “Sleep well, sunshine.”

[the-starlight-project]

So I got a list of theories, I am sorry if this is too long to answer, but I had to share my thoughts with you guys.

Shamdow is probably the least aware of everything going on. He seems genuinely confused and concerned about Sonic/Nicky, even when Sonic/Nicky is "new."

Shillver (thanks to whoever came up with this name) knows the most. After all, why would you randomly be on a rooftop standing in the rain and hiding behind a door you got smacked with? Surprised there was no audible sound of a man swearing upon being smacked by a METAL DOOR.

Both of Tails actors are siblings. It was common for some characters to be played by siblings due to similarities with them at young ages. Though based on the photo and the fact these follow the games, these two most likely acted in the Sonic Generations season of this show.

Knuckle's actor is probably the one who constantly needs to keep people on track, and he is probably the one who has the angry writing on that board. I also feel like he is the one who actually takes care of Cheese since chaos are associated with the Master Emerald. It would make sense for Knuckle's actor to still have a slight connection to it, even if he doesn't in real life.

Cassy is for sure Rouge. Shadow and Rouge were both introduced in the same game, so it would make sense for both to be introduced the same season. I am going to guess she is also Shamdow's roommate, mainly because it seems like the two would live together before they get into acting.

Cream's actor is probably the least seen, but most liked of the cast. She definitely seems like she embodies Cream herself, whether she is acting or not.

Blaze's actor might know part of what is going on, but not fully. Blaze and Silver do have a somewhat close relation in the game they appeared in, and afterwards it was more of Deja Vu due to weird Sonic Game timeline stuff, so Blaze's actor may know something because of Shillver.

Amy's actor has a scar on her cheeks. I have a feeling she accidentally got it on set, since her character does weird a hammer, and I am sure some balance issues may happen time to time, resulting in a few falls.

Eggman's actor is probably the sweetest man alive, or the most evil man you'll ever meet. Either way, he appeared in the first few pages and is for sure going to be seen later.

Sonic/Nicky isn't "new" as the studio suggests, they just use the "new" story to make everyone believe he was replaced. I am going to guess that if Sonic/Nicky has been there the entire time since the shows creation, the studio had some really clever ways to hide stuff. Especially if Sonic/Nicky is still a teenager after 30+ years.

Lastly, if Sonic Generations is a season, then who was the Classic Sonic actor? Does Sonic/Nicky have any siblings and doesn't know/realize it, or is it just some random blue hedgehog actor that the studio randomly found and knew would make for a believeable younger Sonic?

I gotta say, we're both so sad you're anonymous right now - this was an awesome string of theories and we wanted to give you props!

I can't answer all of them in depth, as you probably guessed, but I'll go ahead and confirm what I can right now!

Shamdow is definitely the least aware, and Shillver (as of right now) is the most aware of the characters that have been introduced.

I can't even make a snarky comment on this or anything, you just hit ALL of the Tails portion of this theory on the head. They are indeed siblings, and both did participate in the Generations season!

Knuckles' actor was definitely the one writing on the board, but I can't tell you anything else about him for now... except for the fact that he doesn't take care of Cheese LMAO

Cassy is definitely Rouge. They aren't roommates, but they were technically new friends when they were introduced. They met during the casting for SA2.

Cream is seen the least for a reason.

Blaze's actor doesn't really know what's going on, but I'd say they're suspicious. Also, they're not too close with Shillver, but they're friends enough.

All of the section about Amy's actor is correct! She did get that little scar on set, during the filming of Sonic CD! I'm sure you can guess where.

Eggman's actor(s) is definitely ... a man. He's nice! He's nice.

The studio definitely has some really clever (and morally dubious) ways of hiding things. There have been several occasions where more extreme measures were needed, though.

Classic Sonic definitely has an actor! He's his own entity, has his own life (and is connected to Amy's actor in his own ways). They aren't siblings or anything (though that's not to say that Sonic doesn't have any).

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 52

First / Previous / Next

Fen strode down the promenade, the commander taking long strides to keep up with her. "Empress, I am afraid I must insist you are not being careful enough."

"This is my home, commander. I grew up here. I know the area, the people, the culture. There is nowhere else in this galaxy that I am more comfortable."

"That's just it, Empress. This is not the place that you grew up anymore. You are not the person you were when you left. This is a Gren station and we have forced our way on board in order to capture a Gren. They will not like this. We are in danger."

"Noted commander. You may retreat to Eternity and wait my return." Fen stared at the commander cooly, but she did not stop walking.

"Empress, I did not mean-"

Fen stopped. "Oh but you did commander. You are concerned for my safety, which is admirable, but you have also made it clear that you do not think this is a wise course of action. Return to the ship. You-" Fen pointed. "You are commander now."

"Empress, I-"

R̸̬͈̳̪̃̈́͝e̶͍̅̀͠t̵̰͠u̴̖͆͠r̶̩̃̆̇͠n̵͇͜͝ ̶̲̔͐t̸̫͐̅̔ò̶̒̚ͅ ̴̧͙̊͆̓ṫ̴̢̢̛̹̤h̷̛̥͒̊͝ė̸̼̑̃ ̴̨͉̇͊š̵̮̦̟̹̎h̴̛̛͙͙̦͌ȉ̵̻p̷̨͖̣͗.̸̢͖̪̓ͅ

His legs started to carry him back almost without his control. The former commander struggled for a moment and then seemed to resign himself and walked back.

The new commander saluted sharply. "Lead the way, Empress."

They made their way up-station, higher and higher towards the area that the refugees were permitted to live. Given Tam'itarr's last contact, Fen felt that was where he most likely was. Using whoever was left of the refugees as leverage to keep Fen from just obliterating the station.

They stepped into the final elevator. When they reached the 43rd floor, they'd be in the refugee zone. The group stood silently in the elevator as it rose.

Fen had never planned on destroying the station, her home. She had hoped that her secret police would have been able to grab him quietly and they could play dumb. Now that she was here though, it was going to turn into an incident.

Let it.

"You always say things like that. You're not thinking of the repercussions."

No, you're not thinking. The goal has always been the expansion of the empire. Let it start here. Take over the station. Make it a provocation. You can conquer the Gren.

"No, we're not ready yet, we-"

You are ready. The Gren are weak. Take them over, extend the Gate network.

"With what ships? You know as well as I do how many Super Dreadnoughts we have. Not enough."

Capture some Gren Warfinders. They are fine ships. A small amount of refitting and they could be repurposed to your needs.

"Just like that. While I'm at it, I'll go take the Sefigan's orbitals too." Fen scoffed.

Now you've got the right idea. An Empress leads an Empire. An Empire expands.

They continued to bicker in her head until they reached the 43rd floor. The door opened with a ding, and Fen strode out ahead of her team.

****

Fen was on the beach again. This time, the sky overhead was unsettled, filled with roiling and boiling clouds. The surf was loud, thundering upon the rocks. The wind tore at Fen's clothes and sand was blown into her eyes.

Using her hands to shield her eyes, Fen looked around. A few meters away, she could see Melody, standing on the sand as the waves crashed around her. Her Empress uniform was billowing dramatically as she stood, watching the sea.

As she approached, Melody turned and smiled. "Having a rough time of things, eh?" Even though it was stormy all around them, she could hear Melody speak with a normal volume just fine.

"What's going on? Why are things like this? Why am I here? I'm not asleep." Fen fought the urge to shout over the noise of the surf and storm.

"I'm sorry Fen, you are asleep." Melody pursed her lips in thought. "Well, I suppose it would be more accurate to say that you're unconscious."

"I am? What happened?" Fen's head whipped around, but all she saw was stormy beach. "What's going on?"

"What's going on Fenchurch Whitehorse is that you are entirely too cocky." Melody put her hands on her hips and stared at Fen. They were about the same height, but Melody still managed to stare down her nose at Fen. "Your team told you to be careful, and you sent the commander back to the ship! Hell, when you first came aboard you were ambushed. It was just luck that you were able to Voice them and stop the fighting. Fen, you're not loved here. You're an interloper."

"No, that can't be right, I grew up here, this is home."

"Fen, you're the Empress." Melody rolled her eyes, but then smiled softly. "I remember when it happened to me."

"What happened? Did you get blown up too?"

"Yes, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the moment when you had the realization that you are different now. Empress You is not the same as the You who came before. The Gren station isn't your home anymore. Nobody you meet here will trust you. Even old friends."

She was right. It was different this time. It looked like home, it smelled like home, it sounded like home, but it wasn't home. Nobody treated her like the old days. Everyone was afraid of her. She looked at Melody and saw in her a kind of sadness. The recognition of something lost that can never be regained.

"What did you do about it?" Fen asked, quietly.

"Well, I had friends to help me." Melody looks past Fen. She turns and sees a ghostly outline of a few figures. Two humans and a K'laxi. The human woman is slightly clearer. She's about Melody's height, with high cheekbones and blond hair. She radiates a beauty that only a memory could bring. Fen realized that must have been Melody's wife, Ava. The woman smiles at Melody, and the three of them disappear. "They're memories of memories, so it's not like you'll get to meet them Fen, I just... wanted to remember them."

"I thought you were the Nanites, but you sure are acting like Melody right now."

Melody laughed. "And how would you know what Melody would act like, Fen? She was dead before your project was even started."

Fen looked out to sea. The weather was still dark, but the storm had subsided a little. "I don't know. You seem... lighter than the Nanites. Less serious. More human."

"Less serious? Fen, they were witheringly sarcastic to me. You should listen to your Nanites more. But to answer your question, I've already told you that I'm a copy of Melody. I'm... more me right now because I - we - figured you needed a friend. Some understanding. Because of what happened."

Oh, that's right. "So what did happen?"

"You were bombed." Melody shrugged her shoulders. "The Nanites and your suit caught most of the damage - at least you kept your visor down - but you're unconscious and things will be... difficult for a while.

"Bombed!? By who?"

Melody just rolled her eyes.

Then, Fen was underwater, and she felt pressure on her head, on her body, everywhere. She started to kick with her legs and sweep the water with her arms, desperately trying to come to the surface. She heard Melody's voice as she swam. "Remember Fen, you're the Empress. Use it."

****

Fen awoke on the floor. She felt numb and her thoughts were a jumble. Wasn't there a beach? Where's Melody? She blinked and her head rang. Right, the bomb. The audio feed to the outside of her suit was off, and her face shield was opaque. Something was indeed very wrong.

She tried to sit up, and as she pushed, the suits strength amplification kicked in until Fen could hear the servos whining and saw the orange warning lights on her heads-up display. 'Emergency. Escape mode active, limiters removed.' She cleared the visor and looked around.

It was a disaster.

Smoke and sparks filled the air. Wall panels were blown out and hanging at odd angles. The floor was covered in smoldering debris. Fen was lying on the deck, with two huge beams pinning her legs to the ground. As she tried to rise, the servos whined louder and some of the orange warnings turned red. If she kept that up, they would fail and she'd be trapped in a hundred kilo armored spacesuit with no way to move it. She slid back onto the floor and looked up at the damaged ceiling.

"Commander? Commander, where are you?" Fen called out. She turned her head as best as she could to try and find them, anyone. The debris pinning her down, made it difficult to turn. She tried her suit to ship. "Contemplation of Eternity, This is Fen, this is your Empress. Do you read me?" There was only static in reply. Trying to hold off panic, fen looked at her display and ran local diagnostics. Physically, she was fine, but her suit took the brunt of the damage. Radio was damaged, air supply was damaged, and power was down to minimum. If she wasn't rescued soon, then it wouldn't matter what she was going to do about the Gren. Their problem will have been taken care of for them.

Fen was still tired. Dazed probably she realized. A thought crystalized in her head, electric sharp. If she fell asleep now, she probably would not wake up. Looking through her suit, she saw that she had an option for a stim to be cycled into her air. She set the dose - a low one to start - and applied the stim.

Like a fog burning off, she began to be more aware. It was a chemical awareness, taut and filled with vibration and she would pay for it later, but it was better than the fuzzy concussed way she felt moments ago. Fen sat up and took stock.

She seemed to be alone. Her new commander and their retinue were nowhere to be - oh wait. Fen swallowed back bile and her stomach flipped and jumped. There they were. There was a large red stain along the back wall where the elevator door was, and there were pieces of arms, legs, and pressure suits. The chemically induced clarity caused Fen to wonder why she was so relatively undamaged.

We helped with that while you were talking to Melody.

"What do you mean?"

We can control matter on a small scale. We wouldn't be effective if we couldn't We shielded you from the majority of the blast.

"But, the commander? Their crew?"

We can only do so much, Empress. We determined that your survival was paramount. Now, your attackers think you're dead. You should lay back down and let them come admire their handiwork.

"And then what?"

And then you kill them all.

[kaixserzz]

Hello! If it's alright, may I request Pantalone, Tighnari, and Wanderer's s/o (separately, of course) helping them when the boys aren't feeling good? S/o comforting the boys instead of the other way around

Thank you! I hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night ✨️

With You By My Side

ੈ♡˳ Pantalone x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 0.8k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

HIII ty for the request !!! i hope i delivered this nicely and sorry for taking for so long HDIJSKNADSA!! requests open btw guys :3 have a nice day/night too !! sorry i didn't include tighnari, i just can't think of anything rn for him :(( while wanderer's gonna be a separate one!! i just had a really good fic idea for it... teehee :3 i hope i didn't disappoint too much

More often than not, Pantalone finds himself stressed being one of the Harbingers of the Fatui. There's always something to do, with piles and piles of paperwork adorning his desk, requiring meticulous scrutiny and countless signatures.

Alas, not everything proceeds according to plan; Il Dottore often approaches him, beseeching for additional Mora to fund his recent projects, and then there are the damages he must compensate for due to the Traveler's meddling. The responsibilities seem unending, despite being merely the 9th of the Harbingers.

Nevertheless, Pantalone is resolute in his dedication to his duties. He never entertains the thought of slacking off, for he knows that giving his all is the only way to secure the rewards he rightfully deserves. At the end of the day, he envisions all the Mora he could ever desire within the grasp of his fingertips as a fitting testament to his unwavering commitment.

Regrettably, he finds himself vulnerable to the relentless onslaught of growing exhaustion and the suffocating grip of stress.

There's still so much to be done! Papers and meetings—this just won't do! As he lets out yet another deep sigh, he can feel the weariness settling in, each breath a testament to his exhaustion.

As three soft knocks echo on his door, he couldn't help but groan. With a determined effort, he straightens up on his chair, hoping to appear presentable enough to whoever stands outside. "Come in," he calls out, setting his pen down on the desk as he readies a smile on his lips.

As you stepped inside his office, a bright smile adorning your face, and a cup of tea carefully prepared just for him in your hand, a sense of relief washed over him, causing his tense body to relax. With each step you took toward him, his smile widened, feeling utterly cherished as you handed him the soothing tea, magically dispelling all his stress and exhaustion at the mere sight of you.

With a small bow, a gesture of respect for his position as a Harbinger, though you were his dearest lover. There was genuine concern in your eyes as you addressed him, "You've been hard at work, my Lord. I hope you give yourself a moment of rest."

"Thank you for your worries, my dear," Pantalone replied gratefully, feeling a warm flush in his cheeks as he took a sip of the perfectly prepared tea. He couldn't help but marvel at how you knew precisely what he needed without him having to say a word, coming to his office at just the right time. "I am almost finished for today," He added, reassured by your presence, knowing that with you by his side, he could find solace as he continued on with his work.

Flashing him another dazzling smile gracing your face, you positioned yourself beside his desk and gracefully bowed your head. "If you need anything else, please tell me. I will do my best to help."

Pantalone perks up at your words, a mischievous smirk played on his lips, and he casually set down the cup of tea on his desk. "Is that so?" You nodded eagerly, "Then kiss me," He simply ordered with a rather teasing tone. Pantalone chuckled, charmed at your cute reaction, eyes widening before your face flushing and quickly averting your eyes from him.

For a moment, you struggled to form a sentence, before furrowing your brows and clearing your throat, looking back at him with an embarrassed expression. "My Lord, we are still at work..." Pantalone raised a brow at that, crossing his arms.

"Oh? And I'm your superior." He stated with an authoritative tone, reminiscent of how he addressed the Fatui soldiers working beneath. But you could tell it was all for fun by the twinkle in his eyes. "So, I am ordering you to kiss me right now."

"But my Lord, what if-"

"You're not defying my orders now, are you?" His smirk widened when you looked completely cornered, hiding your extremely flustered face from him with your hand.

"N-no, my Lord..." With a small sigh escaping your lips, you gave him a playful glare. Taking a step toward him, you leaned down, and let him grab you by the back of your neck. He pulled you close to him, greedy lips attaching to yours.

It takes a good amount of force from you to separate from him, the kiss leaving you panting and a little lightheaded. You could tell he really needed that based on his very pleased face. He licked his lips, eyeing your lips for more, but you put your hand on them, glancing nervously at his door.

He didn't let up, trailing kisses all over your face and down to your jawline. You had to hold him by the back of his head to prevent him from going further down. "My Lord," You warned him, but you weren't pulling away from him either.

Pantalone's laughter resonated wholeheartedly, his hand gently cupping your cheek as a genuine and sincere smile adorned his face. It was a smile filled with love and adoration, a reflection of the deep affection he held exclusively for you.

"Now, sit on my lap." He teases once again, "That's an order."

"My Lord..."

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[coffeeandbatboys]

I am sliding in for your 300 celebration 👀

First, CONGRATS🎉🎉🎉

Second...👀

I would like to request Jesse! (Since I asked for Kix last time lol)

Now, these two aren't on your list...buuuuut 👀 I think you may like em!

or (if this sparks the creativity better)

I went through my arsenal and these just struck me as Jesse songs 🤣

If they don't tickle the fancy, pick one that does!

😘💜💜💜

THANKUUUU MOONLIGHT!!!

I ended up with Lovefool because Shadows of the Night was gonna be nightmare angst sooooo.....

Warnings: Classic misunderstanding, flirting, some hot sauce, fluff. Mention of how thicc he is because no I can't help myself. Of course, there's a Kix cameo because It's Jesse.

Lovefool (Jesse x Fem!Reader)

There's no doubt about it: Jesse is a huge flirt. In the two years that you've known him, your friendship has been based on playful teasing and outright flirting. Some might call you best friends.

Lately, however, you've been feeling more than all that. You're starting to realize the potential in a relationship with him.

Who am I kidding? You ask yourself. Every time you go out with the Torrents, he has half the women in the establishment hanging off of him. Granted, you had noticed him getting a little irritated about this the last time.

You catch yourself constantly daydreaming about him. Especially since he had returned from ARC training noticeably...thicker. What you wouldn't give to just cross out of the friend zone and—

A hand waving back and forth in front of you breaks the daze you've been in.

Jesse stands in front of your desk, wearing an amused smirk and raised brows. You don't miss the brief flash of genuine concern in his eyes.

"You with me, mesh'la?"

The way he says the name, and how often he uses it ignites a little fire of hope that maybe you do have a chance. He doesn't know, but you researched the meaning of it.

"Yeah, Jess. Just thinking."

He laughs, and kriff is it one of the most beautiful things you've ever heard. He pulls the chair on the other side of the desk closer and collapses into it. "Abouuuut what?" He presses.

You roll your eyes a little and huff. "Stuff."

He leans back in the chair. "You're chatty today."

You groan and drop your head into your hands. "I've got a problem."

He dips his head forward. "So let me help?"

"You're the problem." You blurt out before you can stop yourself. You clap a hand over your mouth and watch him with nervous eyes. The confident smirk drops into a confused expression and you can see the hurt in his eyes. You curse yourself and move your hand to your eyes. "No, wait. I'm sorry—"

His voice is uncharacteristically blank. "If I did something wrong you know you can tell me."

You are mentally kicking yourself for not having a good choice of words in your outburst.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Jesse. It's...you're doing everything right."

His brows scrunch in confusion and all he can ask is "what?"

There's no going back now. You have to tell him.

"You're constantly flirting and trying pickup lines on me! And don't get me wrong, I love all of it...but I can't help that maybe I'm hoping you're serious."

You keep your face buried in your hands until you feel a gloved hand beneath your chin. You peek through your fingers to find him leaning over the desk, and over you.

"Mesh'la," He chuckles, "whoever said I wasn't serious?"

You swear your heart stops beating for a second and you completely remove your hand from your face, looking up at his slight smile. You stand slowly until you're face to face with him. Feeling a blush creeping up your neck, you notice his eyes flicker to your lips. Without a thought, you surge forward to meet his own.

The kiss is slow and heated. He tastes sweet, and adrenaline courses through your veins when you realize that this is all you've wanted. Your lips dance in sync as he takes your shoulders in an attempt to pull you closer, though the desk between the two of you is proving that a difficult task. Your fingers hook into the rim of his cuirass as he pulls away to whisper, "Is this okay?"

"More than okay," you respond, chasing his lips.

Before either of you can go for round two, the door to your office opens and KIx strides halfway into the room before he looks up at the two of you, awkwardly holding onto each other and leaning over a kriffing desk.

The medic closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Maker help me. It was bound to happen sooner than later."

When he opens his eyes again you and Jesse are both giving him sheepish smiles.

Kix shakes his head and huffs. "I won't tell, if you're worried about that. But Jess, we've got a briefing."

Your ARC grimaces. "Kix, you know you could have commed me. I'll be there in a minute."

The medic smirks. "Had to make sure things didn't get out of hand, 's all."

[dyaz-stories]

Psst! Hey, Dyaz. Had you saw/read the new theory about jjk? It actually puts in context a lot of things in the latest chapters and honestly it blew my mind when I read it

Gonna put the link of the post here in case you want to read it. I'm gonna cry and scream so hard if that theory results to be true T-T

https://www.tumblr.com/thepersonperson/762115329999650816/why-the-hell-is-jjk-270-called-dreams-end?source=share

So I don't read theories because I've been around a while and I've gotten used to people making theories with tons of 'evidence' and then 99% of them end up not being true, and at this point it feels like we're just throwing stuff at the wall and trying to figure out what sticks.

With that being said, I'm never putting anything past Gege, and I am so serious in saying that this would be the worst possible ending as far as I'm concerned. My biggest criticism about Jujutsu Kaisen in recent chapters has been that it made me feel dumb for caring. I have actually been very positive about chapter 270 because of how human it felt. If it turns out that this was all in Yuuji/Megumi/whoever's mind, it's would feel like an absolute slap in the face to me.

If everyone dies and we just go to some meaningless fucking grimdark ending I'm so serious in saying that it's the kind of shit that would make me never interact with the fandom again. Like not reread the manga, not buy it, not follow the anime when it comes out again, I just genuinely would want nothing to do with it anymore, because what would have been the fucking point. I would also never touch anything he'd do ever again because if you care this little about your characters, your audience, and your story (because what would the meaning even BE if everyone was dead?? there's ONE chapter left, if that's what he's going for there's even LESS time to make something meaningful out of it), why would I?

Je vais même passer en français tellement ça m'énerve d'y penser parce que l'anglais ne me permet pas d'exprimer toute ma colère. Si jamais c'est ça qu'il se passe, j'aurais jamais été autant prise pour une conne par un manga. Genre tu me fais lire quasi 300 chapitres pour me cracher à la gueule en te marrant ? Mais mange tes putains de grands morts.

Anyway, sorry if this sounds agressive anon it's not against you AT ALL it's just that even just thinking about it makes me lose my shit. We'll see soon, but I'll probably be out of the fandom if that's what happens.