#i haven't picked up a pen for a while and it shows

[chlo-le-mouton]

Fairy boy

[gundamthey17]

"Come on, Crystal. Let's give Edwin a minute to adjust his really poor attitude."

"Oh - okay. Sure." Crystal followed Charles out the Agency door, slamming it much harder than necessary, in Edwin's opinion. Edwin stared after them, his posture rigid.

"I haven't got a poor attitude," he sniped to the empty room. "You brought a living person into our office. We haven't had a living person in here since..."

He cast his mind back, trying to remember. When it came to him, he answered himself in a rough approximation of Charles' accent. "That nun, back in ‘13."

"Yes, and that was nearly an unqualified disaster."

"Only nearly," Edwin-as-Charles replied. "Everything turned out fine, didn't it? Quit worryin' so much. Deep breaths, mate."

Edwin closed his eyes and listened to the version of Charles in his head. He drew a deep breath and let it out, feeling his shoulders drop. He shook his head slightly, allowing his posture to adjust. Last of all, he unclenched his fists, working his fingers a few times to loosen them. He opened his eyes and blinked at the empty office. Sighing, he reached for his pen and a note card, fully intending to write up the completed report for the Case of Crystal Palace.

"Mail call!"

Edwin made an entirely undignified sound before clapping his hand over his mouth. He glared at the postman, who was stepping through the wall to his left. Scraping together what remained of his composure, he lowered his hand and said, "You could knock. We have a front door."

The postman glanced toward the front of the office. "Huh. So you do," he said, as if noticing the door for the first time. He held out a small handful of letters. When Edwin did not move to take them, he dropped them on the desk, tipped his hat curtly, and disappeared the same way he came in.

Edwin glared at the wall for a moment longer. His hands shook as he picked up the mail and began to leaf through it. Great. Now he was getting worked up over the bloody postman. He raised one trembling hand and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows; he could feel a headache coming on.

It wasn't actually the postman that had him so out of sorts, of course. It wasn't even Crystal, though she certainly wasn't helping matters.

No, it was the fact that Death herself had been in their office less than a fortnight ago.

And now Charles had left him alone, to go wander the city with some living girl, whose case should already be closed. They ought to be sifting through their caseload, discussing pending jobs, not wasting time gallivanting about with the living.

What if Death did come back? What if she showed up while Charles was out and unceremoniously shunted Edwin off to hell? What if Charles returned and found the office empty, no trace of Edwin, except perhaps the faint smell of sulfur?

Deep breaths, mate.

Edwin didn't close his eyes this time, but he tried to slow his breathing. It was much harder to listen to Charles when he wasn't physically present, putting his hands on Edwin's shoulders to ground him, or even holding Edwin's hands until they stopped shaking.

Edwin made up his mind. The living girl would not be staying. He would put his foot down. 

As if Edwin had ever been able to deny Charles anything before. As if his kind eyes and cheeky smile and knowing expression wouldn't have Edwin capitulating immediately.

Y'never know. First time for everything, isn't there? the Charles in his head grinned.

Edwin hoped he was right.

[veryberryjelly]

hey girl!!! I think ur still writing for jake from b99 (hopefully) so i was wondering if i could request him with a reader who's on her period and she's working, jake brings her home and comforts her (cause her cramps are rlly bad) <3

jake peralta x fem!reader

cw : reader is described as female, reader has truly bad cramps

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

as a woman, one of the necessities of life was making sure you could function during your period.

if you didn't have a way to cope, it was hard, or almost impossible to do day to day tasks such as going to work.

and you had your emergency kit in your desk drawer. heating pad, tampons, spare underwear, pads and some pills your doctor had prescribed to you when you explained how bad your cramps could get.

and while you would usually replenish your kit a few days before your period started, you hadn't expected the wave of cramps that overtook you as you sat at your desk.

"shit-" you muttered under your breath when you felt the first one.

you were quick to open your drawer and look for the familiar yellow bottle, only to find it empty.

your stomach dropped and another cramp rolled through your abdomen.

you couldn't do much about it now, only put on a heating pad, change your underwear and put on a pad.

so that's exactly what you did. you grabbed your necessary supplies and headed towards the bathroom, making an extra effort to walk straight instead of hunched over.

you felt a pair of eyes on you briefly but just ignored it, knowing your priority at the moment.

when you returned to your desk, heating pad in place over your abdomen, you felt a tiny bit better, but the cramps were still coming fierce and fast.

it must've been the crease in your brow that alerted jake of your discomfort because after a few moments you saw a figure sit down at the side of your desk.

you picked your eyes up to find his familiar brown eyes. a soft smile settled briefly on your lips.

" what's up ?" you questioned, dropping your pen down on your desk quietly as to not aggravate the headache you could feel forming.

" you doing okay ?" he questioned, his voice quiet and comforting.

you should've known jake would notice you acting off. he knew you too well not to notice.

" yeah, i'm fine-" you paused momentarily when you felt a stabbing pain in your lower back. " just cramps "

early on in your relationship jake had found out just how bad your cramps could be. after you had to cancel a date last minute saying you were unwell and he showed up to your apartment with takeout. you had just been honest with him and told him you got really bad cramps.

he wasn't rude or grossed out, he just asked how he could help and you ended the night curled on your couch with his arm draped over your stomach, his palm splayed out under your t-shirt on your abdomen.

since that night he had always been there when you needed him to be.

" v'you taken anything ?" he questioned, his voice still slightly hushed.

" haven't replenished my prescription "

a small hiss came from his lips as he took in the repercussions of you not having the thing that made these few days more bearable for you.

" d'you want me to go and refill it for you ?" his suggestion made your heart melt and you reached your hand over to squeeze his hand lightly.

" it's okay, i can wait a couple hours. can we go by the pharmacy on the way home, though ?" you asked to which he nodded immediately.

he gave your hand a small squeeze, giving you a comforting smile before he departed back to his own desk.

you thought you could wait until the end of the work day, but your cramps only worsened over the next hour.

you couldn't focus on your case reports over the stabbing pain through your body.

" c'mon i'm taking you home "

you lifted your head to find jake stood by your desk, his jacket on and his bag over his shoulder.

" jake, you don't have to do this. i'm fine, and we've both got st-"

" would you just let me do this for you? i talked to holt and he's giving you the afternoon off and i'm taking you home. " the way he said it left almost no room for discussion. he was taking you home and that was the end of it.

you didn't debate with him, just pulled your jacket over your shoulders and picked up your bag.

his hand slipped easily into yours as the two of you walked out of the precinct and down towards the parking lot.

the drive back to your apartment wasn't a long one, it felt a lot better after jake hopped out at the pharmacy and returned to the car with your prescription in his hand along with a bottle of water.

when you arrived home, jake told you to go and shower, change and get settled on the couch while he made some tea.

you were quick to go into your bedroom, grab one of jake's t-shirts and a pair of long pyjama pants and get take them into the bathroom.

your shower was quick but definitely made you feel a bit better. when you stepped out you changed into the clothes you had gotten out and walked out into the living room.

you found jake sat on the couch on his phone, a mug of tea on the coffee table beside a hot water bottle and one of your cosiest blankets on the couch.

nothing was said as you sat down and leant into jake's frame, his arms wrapping around you swiftly. he simply offered you the remote and made minimal comments when you put on a film you both enjoyed.

though as much as you enjoyed it, your head went limp against jake's chest within the first half an hour.

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, mentions of injury, poor writing, ooc writing,

Part 18: turning point

🔹🔹🔹

The police come to the manor the next morning to question you about the incident, one of them was in the garage looking over the car while another officer sits with you in the foyer with a notepad and pen like this was the forties, how quaint.

Thankfully for your sanity they don't seem to judge you much as you recount the incident in a clinical voice, after just a few moments Bruce joined you on the couch and throws an arm around your shoulder and silently sets his hand on your leg. you nearly rolled you eyes but bit your tongue for the time being.

sure he's no longer a stranger to you, but it pisses you off how he acts like he's concerned and supportive when there's other people around after the way things went last night. you have to wonder if it’s for your sake or his image sake.

He remained pretty much silent, only chiming in to tell the officer he can get camera footage sent to them to show when exactly you and Damian left and returned, the hand resting on your arm tightened near enough to bruise during certain parts of the questioning, his nails dug into your skin when you went into detail about the gun against your head and the threats against the boy. he only relaxed his grip on you when the topic changed to questions about whether you knew the man or not, whether you believed the attack was connected to your concussion, etc.

As soon as the officers leave so do you, you shrug off Bruce as soon as he attempts to speak to you and trot to your room. You don't care how childish it comes off as, you're still pissed and you know you’ll restart things if he pushes you right now.

You hardly speak to anyone for days after that, suddenly you're no longer to be found in the library or going on walks around the property edges, you stay in your room and push yourself to train to the point of incapability and then go down to the kitchens to feed yourself and repeat the cycle, it’s terribly unhealthy and you’re well aware of that, but you’d rather hurt your body while building yourself up into something useful rather than hurt what little rapport you have left with the waynes.

And that's just how things stay, Bruce avoids you after you shrugged him off and Alfred only makes half-hearted attempts to engage with you, finding excuses such as needing to clean your room or insisting on bringing you tea. The kids must know what's going on because they awkwardly avoid you, Duke constantly stumbles over his words when you walk by and leaves the room if you run into him in the kitchen, Cass stares at you silently from corners and nooks, never directly engaging with you. you haven't even seen Tim once in days, it's like he just up and removed himself from the home. Seems the only one not totally pissy is the youngest…

“can we talk?….” his knuckles rap in the door as he let's himself right in, clearly not caring to wait for an answer first.

You sit up from where you'd been doing pushups to frown at the kid, your shirt sticks to your skin from sweat and you're sure you look like a royal mess at the moment. “….i’m a little tired, damian.”

He rolls his eyes at you and drops down on your bed with a loud thump, mossy eyes scrutinizing your form while you cap a water bottle and chug half of it in one go.

“no you’re not, i just….wanted to talk.” his voice loses bravado part way through and he looks away while awkwardly fiddling with the bedding, picking at random strings like they're so very interesting. You sigh as you set the bottle down and wrap your arms around your knees. “….okay, what’s up kiddo.”

For a moment he's quiet, fidgeting in place as he tried to gather himself into his usual snarky form, you look around the room to avoid silently staring the kid down and make him more uncomfortable.

“i wanted to…. apologize….for what happened.” Damian looks uncharacteristically out of his element, that almost sounded painful for him to choke out judging by the wince of his lips like he sucked on a lemon.

With a sigh you roll to your feet and stretch your arms above your head, muscles aching something fierce in protest to your overdoing it. “what happened in the city isn’t your fault, you're not responsible for anyone else's wrong doings, kiddo.”

Damian just loosely crosses his arms over his chest while looking up at you, his expression hard to read. But you'd like to think you've got a decent read on the kid by now, his body language screams unhappiness.

“i forced you to go out, you and father are fighting because i disobeyed his orders.” his tone drops to something more sullen, your gut twists at the way he refers to Bruce's rules as ‘orders’, it doesn't sit right with you, too painfully familiar. Your own childhood ‘orders’ echoes through your mind and you quickly dig your nails into your palm to distract yourself, the pain is grounding, familiar like a family friend.

The mattress squeaks under your weight when you drop down beside him, your hands awkwardly clenching in your lap before you do something insanely out of character like trying to comfort the boy. hopefully he doesn't get grossed out by your sweaty form.

“look, i won’t lie to you or sugarcoat things, we shouldn’t have gone out without telling bruce or alfred, you’re smart enough to see that. but anything between me and bruce is just that, between me and him. things are….difficult right now, a disagreement was bound to happen no matter the cause.”

Your gentle voice doesn't seem to put the kid at ease, he turns towards you with a pouty scowl on his face as he practically bristles like a cat.

“that doesn’t change things, i almost got you killed again.” he gestures at your head while speaking, you're suddenly reminded of the fact that Damian was also there when the concussion happened, how many times has he watched his parent figure narrowly avoid death?

“….damian, you’re not responsible for me. in any way, shape or form. i’m an adult, you’re a child. you’re supposed to do….child things, i don’t know. The point is that anything that happens to me isn't your fault. Neither you or Bruce are my guard dogs.”

Damian swallows audibly and looks away from you, his eyes again downcast as he starts pulling on a loose thread on one of the pillow cases.

His voice is heavy when he speaks again, refusing to meet your gaze as he all but whispers. “….i wish you remembered.”

Something about that makes your intuition prickle, you don't know if it's the heaviness in his voice or the way Damian seems to suddenly look worn, more like a soldier than a child.

You don't like the way it makes your skin crawl, your chest heavy like there's cement behind your ribs. “…remember what?”

Damian looks up and opens his mouth to speak, them slowly closes it.

“….. Never mind…. You…you were really cool, how you beat that guy up….”

You know it's a deflection, and the way he's looking at you you know he knows you know. But you're not gonna push the boy. So instead you just mess up his hair in an annoying way.

“…don’t mention it…”

There's a lot of unspoken words hanging in the air, you know he's holding something back, something that's hurting him, and for a moment you think of spilling your own demons, to tell him you're not who he thinks you are, this isn't a mission after all, you don't have any goals here, you have no reason to keep pretending except your own cowardly desire to sweep your real self under the rug. Pretend you're almost something half good. yet it doesn't come out, maybe one day it'll rot you from the inside out until someone sees the real you gaping from between the cracks. Until then both of your jaws remain stubbornly clenched.

🔹🔹🔹

Nightwing squats on the ledge of the warehouse roof as he peers through the skylight, positioning himself just right so he doesn't cast a shadow into the building. watching the wannabe Mafia punks sort through various stolen goods on top of the wooden crates and old tables.

It's almost funny how clueless they are to being watched, thanks to these people batman's benched and the GCPD is scrambling for more manpower with the increasing attacks, luckily none so bad as the first night but it's clear what they're doing. Establishing presence. Nightwings gloved hands tighten around his eskrima sticks as a few of them laugh loud enough over something to be heard from his position.

“How many we looking at?” A mechanical voice hums from behind, Nightwing doesn't have to look to know red hood's stalking up to him.

“Looks like two, maybe three dozen, could be more coming with how quickly they're cracking boxes open. Like they're expecting more product to sort through.” Nightwing replies quietly, not taking his eyes off the thugs.

He feels a hand briefly land on his shoulder as red hood kneels by him, also trying to avoid casting a shadow in the minimal moonlight peering through the clouds.

“sounds like a party, already tagged the getaway cars?” Wordlessly Nightwing taps his com twice, Oracle chimes in red hoods ear to answer his question.

“tagged and plates all already ran, we'll have a full list of every registration within an hour.” Red Hood hears her loudly sipping on something in his com and snorts in amusement, focusing back on the men inside. “Penguins?”

Nightwing shakes his head, leaning closer to the glass to keep an eye on a man moving out of sight. “someone new, still trying to pin down the head.” Red Hood sharply turns his head to look at him, Nightwing can guess at his expression under the helmet.

“they're operating in penguins usual territory? This'll go to shit quickly once word gets out…” he groans quietly and rubs the back of his neck, he pulls his Glock out and starts checking and rechecking his ammo, pulling his extra mags out and checking those too.

“…so…. We gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” Nightwing murmurs without looking away from the men, though he doesn't miss how red Hood throws his head back and sighs.

“your ass, or the little spat B and operater had?” Oracle's voice crackles in both their ears, Nightwing snorts while red Hood sighs again. “Can you not talk about asses right now, I'd like to keep my appetite thanks.”

Nightwing playfully elbows him, snickering quietly at his reaction. “You're such a child, man. You'll get the talk from Bruce eventually.”

Oracle also giggles in both their ears, taking another obnoxiously loud sip of whatever it is she's drinking. “Someone's gotta break the ice around here.”

“I'm not talking about someone else's marriage issues.” Red Hood huffs, stubbornly checking his weapons one more time before watching the thugs below them again.

“Well too bad, I am. Operater looked ready to put themselves in jail and B nearly burst a blood vessel when he found out, you should see the clips I put together from the parking lot cams.”

“I don't blame them, B’s way over reacting and being a smothering jackass.” Red Hood replies tensely.

“He's not being smothering.” Nightwing rolls his eyes and corrects himself when both Oracle and Red hood scoff loudly. “Okay he's a little smothering, but it's more like….thin blanket smothering than heavy pillow smothering though. He's smothering with love and concern.”

“meat rider.” Red hood mutters under his breath, Nightwing elbows him in offense. “Shut it, how else is he supposed to respond to the near public execution?”

“you and I both know that if someone pointed a gun at the little demon B would do the same thing, it's like he forgets that people outside of costumes can do more than freak out. Plus he's so goddamn weird around them now.” Red hood scowls under his helmet, do they need to have this discussion here?

Oracle clears her throat quietly. “Well…I agree with that sentiment…but…” her voice takes on a hesitant edge, both Nightwing and red Hood glance at each other in confusion.

“…but…?” Nightwing presses on. “…but, I think we can agree that mentally torturing someone in a parking lot is just a bit extreme right?” At both their silence she continues. “you saw the clips from red Robin right? You'd think they'd just leave as soon as the threat was incapacitated, not shove a gun down their throat while literally interrogating them.”

Nightwing hesitantly speaks up, “I mean, obviously yeah. But they recently survived something traumatic, take it from the guy who's been in their shoes, it can fuck up your entire response system.”

“Night, a coma doesn't teach you how to successfully crack my programs and rip them out of hardware by the roots. A coma doesn't make you try to stab people or beat someone half to death. Whatever's going on with them isn't normal and we're trying to figure out where it's coming-” red Hood interrupts Oracle before she can continue. “Hang on, you're telling me you think they're what, a body double? An alien spy? You letting the old man's paranoia get to you now Oracle?” “…I'm just checking all our bases, B and red robins doing it too, It's precautionary.”

Nightwing grabs red hoods shoulder before he can react, putting his finger to his lips before gesturing down below them. “Don't lose focus.” His voice is nearly a hiss, squeezing his shoulder once before letting him go.

“…you're the one who's been going off about B lately, now you're spying on operater for him?” red Hood grumbles as he shifts, moving away from the glass to peer over the edge of the building when he hears the rumble of an engine in the distance.

“Unknown vehicle, quarter mile away. Traffic cam shows an old fire truck heading your way. Now don't call it spying, that makes it sound creepy.” Oracle's voice echoes slightly as they hear her shuffling through the ear pieces, probably adjusting her headset.

“I've got eyes on it, I'll call it what it is Oracle. You're butthurt about the hacking fail so you're going to extremes on them.” Red hood mumbles, ducking down as the truck slowly pulls up to the warehouse.

“As if you're not constantly butthurt about something, weren't you pissy for a week because they didn't pick your movie?”

“like they've ever favored the godfather over Lord of the rings, I know once they watch it they'll obviously see the superior choice.” red hood huffs exasperatedly, clearly still bitter.

nightwing holds a hand up, red hood shuffles back to his side to peer down at the men, he watches them all shuffle towards the entrance just as the firetruck parks in the alley beside the building. “more goons, great.” red hood sighs out sarcastically.

“another eight, looks to be armed. got the deets on the truck oracle?” nightwing hums, starting to do some light stretches as he gets ready.

“you know i’m on it….hmm, stolen from a collector last month. they’ve got somewhere they’re hiding stolen cars?” oracle replies, tapping coming through the mic as she switches between different monitors.

“….so are we gonna ignore red pouting?” nightwing says playfully, he snickers when red hood elbows him roughly and moves away from him to get into position. “shut your whore mouth, dickhead. i’m taking lead.” red hood rolls his eyes under his helmet when he hears two voices snickering at him.

nightwing holds his hands up when he gets a sharp look, trying to wipe the smirk off his face as he rolls his neck and shoulders. “alright, alright. it’s officially dropped…until this is done. take your spotlight red.”

red hood sighs exasperatedly as he stands, after a moment of silence he kicks through the glass and jumps into the building while multiple people yell in surprise.

🔹🔹🔹

M.list | prev | next

A/n: this is kinda giving filler chapter to me, sorry y'all 😔 the next one is much more interesting tho 👀👀

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[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Pack Chapter 20

Trigger warnings: MDNI, smut, cunnilingus, role play, orgasm, blowjobs

Y/N looked at Changbin who held his head in his hands with an empty energy drink in front of him. He really hated working at the hospital. Changbin didn't have the stomach for it. Changbin was better at martial arts than emergency service. Changbin was also like Y/N who also wasn't brought up with humans and almost never encountered them. He found them difficult and overly or under expressive. They were either cold hearted and numb to pain that they didn't care about treatment or the opposite where they were hyper emotional. Changbin hated it. Y/N begged him to tell Jaehee but he couldn't. He didn't want to disappoint his sister. She was the closest thing he had to a mum. His sister brought him. She was all he had.

Y/N sighed and made him some lunch since the wolves where preoccupied with other things like getting her Christmas presents since Y/N was nosy. Instead she was here trying to make Changbin better. "How about we watch a movie." Y/N cooed as she massaged his shoulders. "I don't want to, baby. Let me have a minute while I phone Jaehee." Changbin asked. Y/N nodded and collected his bag and coat, taking it up to his room when she had a naughty idea. Y/N smirked and took Changbin's white doctors coat, heading into her room so she could prepare herself. By preparing, she put on a dark green bodysuit with stockings that she ordered and made Jeongin pick it up. Did Jeongin look? Of course not, but he was curious. Y/N clipped the body suit on then brushed her hair so it was and tidy. Y/N then picked up his stethoscope, wrapping it around her neck before heading down stairs.

Changbin loved to role play. He was very expressive that way. Changbin sometimes even wanted to play alpha and omega which got Seungmin teasing him about it for a week. The doctor and patient are one they haven't done before, so she was feeling quite brave as she headed down the stairs to see Changbin still on the phone. "Seo Changbin." Y/N called out, placing her hands in the picked as she watched Changbin slowly turn round. His mouth dropped and his eyes were wide. "Ya. Jaehee can you phone me tomorrow. I gotta see the doctor." Changbin stuttered over his words. His eyes never left her body once as he consumed the sight of her, but that ended. Y/N walked away from him down the corridor and up the stairs while Changbin followed her like a lost omega. Y/N sped up, walking in to Chan's office, heading straight towards his black office chair. Y/N watched in amusement Changbin fall through the door. His eyes were so fixed on her body as he watched her sexily pull out a notepad and pen. Y/N twirled the pen softly around pink tongue, flicking it slightly. "Seo Changbin, what seems to be the problem today." Y/N moaned. Changbin gulped as he watched her lean back, taking the notepad with her. She tilted her head, looking at him. Her tongue licked her bottom lip to tease him. "My head. Yeah. It hurts." Changbin stuttered out. "Mmm." Y/N moaned, tapping the pen on her chin as she made some notes. "Where exactly?" "H-here." Changbin pointed to his temple, feeling his sweaty head.

Y/N placed her hands on the arm rest, positioning herself slowly. She uncrossed her legs lustfully, presenting her uncovered pussy that pretended to be hidden behind the lace covered basque. It was arousing for both of them. Changbin wanted to touch her as he saw a drop of slick slide out slowly, dropping into Chan's chair. Y/N closed her legs slowly to cross them. Then she leaned over Chan's desk, flattening her boobs for Changbin to see. Changbin gulped and started to palm himself through his trousers. "Maybe you should pleasure yourself once in a while Mr Seo. Self pleasure can help." Y/N slid back up and gripped her breasts in her hands, showing him as she squeezed them. "Yeah!" Changbin breathed out. "Do you know how to. Please yourself?" Y/N asked as she stuck two of her fingers in her both to play with her tongue. "No." Changbin whined. "We'll do it together, Mr Seo." Y/N moaned out as she crawled onto Chan's table, sitting on her feet. "Pull your cock out and touch yourself. Slowly." Y/N ordered. Changbin did just that. He unbuckled his belt and slid his trousers down to his ankles. Then he slid his boxers down. His thick cock sprung out, sticking up. His red juicy head was leaking with pre-cum.

Y/N moaned at the sight of his cock. Her fingers left her mouth and slid down to the base of her throat, pretending Changbin was choking her. "Fuck. Please don't do that. Only I can choke that neck." Changbin panted. Y/N squeezed harder. Then her hands traveled down the middle of her breasts to her thigh. Y/N squeezed them before spreading her legs, letting Changbin see her. Changbin, squeezed his cock harshly, while pumping nice and slow. It was agonising for him as he felt the knot boil up in his core. He wanted to knot her and he could this time. She was on contraception. "Flick your head." Y/N ordered, watching his thumb graze of his swollen head that needed her. "Can I taste you, Mr Seo?" Y/N's restraint was about to leave her body and she was desperately going to beg him. "Yes doc. My cock is so swore." Changbin panted. Y/N got off the table and crawled slowly over to Changbin with her luscious mouth open. Changbin held his cock ready for her to take. When Y/N reached him, she slid her hands over the arm rest and licked his cock subtly. Then she did it again, until Changbin slapped his cock over her lips, trying to force his way in.

Y/N opened her mouth slowly and took Changbin in her mouth. Her movements were slow and deep. Her grey foggy eyes watched him every time she went down and relaxed her throat. Changbin wanted to slam her head down and rut in her mouth, but he still wanted to play her game. Y/N stopped and let him go with a pop. She walked back to Chan's 's desk swaying her hip as she sat on it. Y/N placed her hands either side of her while spreading her legs. Her slick had thickened, ready to take the beta. "Come have a taste." Y/N moaned out, as she watched Changbin run towards her, dropping down so his face could press against her dripping pussy. Changbin took a long lick, before entering her cavern. He wanted to eat from the source. He was hungry. A desperate deprived man. "I can't play this game anymore." Changbin hummed. "Then fuck me." Y/N stated.

Changbin didn't think twice and pulled her forward to slam his cock into her. His arms lifted her legs up so they rested on his shoulders as he fucked her. Y/N gripped the desk as tightly as she could as Changbin's aggressive pace quickened. Changbin was aiming deeper, hitting her cervix as he thrusted. Changbin's moans were deep and breathy. His hand was on her throat choking her, while her head was thrown back. His other hand was flicking her swollen bud. They were both ready to cum. Changbin put his fingers in her mouth, choking her. Over stimulating her as she came. Changbin followed after her and came. Changbin continued to thrust as his knot expanded to keep his cum tightly in her instead of leaking out. Changbin rested his head on her shoulder by his mark for a moment before looking at her. "I love you so fucking much." Changbin whispered. "I love you too Binnie. I want you to be happy." Y/N said. Her hand came to rest on his face. "I'm happy when I'm with you." Changbin kissed her wrist, looking down. "Baby you've broken Channie's desk." "Fuck." Y/N said as she looked at the desk. Her hands must have gripped too hard. "We'll order another one for Christmas."

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[finelinemia]

THE SWEAR JAR

fluff ≈ harry styles x reader

based in the c.ai bot “your daughter hears him swear in a meeting” by me!

summary: Harry is having a meeting with his manager when he accidentally lets a bad word slip.

word count: 1.2k

cw: pains during pregnancy, complicated pregnancy

author’s note: Hi! I wanted to do a little one-shot about my favorite thing: Dadrry. It's really short and can be read quickly, but I hope you like it a lot🩷

[dadrry!]

"Okay, so I'd like to be able to finish recording the album this month, and be able to announce it in May? What do you think about that?" I ask Jeff through the computer screen, watching him write things down in his small notebook.

"I think it's a good idea. But are you sure Y/N thinks the same?" He laughs a little. "I mean, after announcing the album, it's going to be all the time with interviews and probably very little time at home."

"Yes, you're probably right... we can delay it a little... and then not give so many interviews, right? People will understand, after all, I'm going to be a father again."

You're pregnant with our second baby. And this pregnancy is taking a bigger toll on you than it was with Olivia, our three-year-old. You've had a rough few weeks, both physically and emotionally, so I've moved work home so I can keep an eye on you. I keep you in bed all day, afraid that something might happen to you if you even move a finger. You spend most of your time sleeping, reading, or watching a TV show. While I take care of the house, Olivia, and my new album. I don't want anything to happen to the baby or you, under any circumstances.

"How is she, by the way?" Jeff asks, looking up from his notebook.

"She woke up in the middle of the night feeling nauseous, but at least she didn't throw up this time. We're making progress, aren't we?" I say, stirring my coffee with my spoon.

"That baby's going to be twice as big a handful as Olivia was," he laughs, shaking his head. "They haven't even been born yet, and they're already doing their thing."

I laugh, "Don't say it too loudly... let's pray that they're calmer than they are now."

Olivia was quite calm as a baby; she hardly woke us up at night and was very well-behaved. Her energy really ramped up after she was a year and a half old. She's a complete whirlwind. You're always chasing her around. You're constantly trying to keep her safe from getting hurt, and on top of that, she has fun doing it. In fact, we thought for a long time about going for a second one because after Olivia, we weren't really keen, but we still went for it.

"Okay, let's move on to a more important topic: which songs are going to be on the album one hundred percent?" Jeff asks. We've recorded several songs, but in the end, only a few will be on the final album.

"I definitely want 'Matilda' and 'As It Was' to be on, so I'd like-" My hand moves to pick up a pen and brushes against the coffee cup, causing it to fall and splatter the entire table and the papers. "Shit..." I mutter and hear a gasp at my office door.

I lift my head and see Olivia with her hands covering her mouth, surprised. My face drops as I realize the situation. I've said a bad word. Something that is strictly forbidden in this house and is punishable.

Olivia lets out a small giggle and runs down the hallway. I know exactly where she's going. To our room, to tell on you.

"No! Livy! Come here right now, don't bother Mommy!" I sigh and stand up from the chair, staring at the mess I've made, but all that fades into the background; all I can think about is Olivia squealing that I swore. "Give me a minute, Jeff."

I have a habit of swearing a lot. When Olivia was born, you didn't find this very funny because, after all, she's a little girl who catches on to everything. So we made a rule. Every time we swore, we had to put a pound in the little glass jar at the entrance. The money raised would go toward a trip to Disneyland, Livy's dream. So, knowing this, she's always listening with her little ear to see if we swear. Pretty funny, right?

And it's not that we couldn't afford a trip to Disneyland. If I wanted to, I could buy the whole damn Disneyland. But you also want to teach Olivia that if she wants to achieve something, she has to work hard. So here I am, condemned to watch my words every time I open my mouth.

I leave my office and walk down the hall toward our room. The door is ajar, and I hear you whispering on the other side. I peek in and see you lying in bed, with Olivia by your side as she tells you about my slip. A slight smile is on your lips as you listen to the little girl. I decide to come in, interrupting your little moment, and you look at me with a serious face, trying not to laugh.

"A little bird told me you said a bad word," you say, crossing your arms.

"It was an accident... I almost burned myself with the coffee," I try to explain, even though I know it won't help.

"You know the rules, love," you say, and Olivia nods eagerly.

"A pound to the jar of swear words!" says the little girl, getting up and jumping on the bed.

"Hey, it's not fair. You guys always gang up on me. I hope the baby's a boy, and at least then I'll have someone on my side," I say, letting out a sigh.

"Hey, it's not our fault you said a bad word. Are you really upset about a pound?" you say, laughing.

"Almost all the pounds in that jar are mine, do you know how much money that is?" I ask.

"Then learn not to swear, love," you say softly.

"Yes! Bad daddy! He swears a lot." Olivia takes advantage of the moment to tease me.

"And you're a snitch," I say, crossing my arms.

"Harry!" you chide, laughing. I might be a little defensive about this topic.

"Fine. I'll put a pound in the jar. But you know, it wasn't even that much. It was just a little something. And she was just putting her ear to the office door," I say.

"You know how she is with her Disneyland trip, she doesn't let a thing go," you say, watching as Olivia gets out of bed and runs out of the room, probably to grab the jar.

I put the swear word aside and approach you, sitting on the edge of the bed and caressing your baby bump. "How are you feeling?"

You smile slightly. "I'm better. In a few days I'll probably be fully recovered."

"The baby's giving you a rough time, huh..." my hand rests on your curve, my thumb gently stroking. "Looks like they already teamed up with Olivia."

You laugh, "At least we know they're going to get along."

I lean down a little to leave a kiss on your forehead and stay there for a few seconds "We'll be alright."

"Yeah, two more legs running around the house aren't going to be able to beat us." I smile and step back to look at your face. "What was the bad word you said, by the way?" you ask, tilting your head.

I roll my eyes playfully "Shit."

Another gasp is heard behind me, and I whip my head around. Olivia had the pound jar in her arms and was looking at me with a mischievous expression. I turn my head again to look at you and see you're laughing.

"You did it on purpose!" I say as a smile appears on my lips.

“Guilty as charged” you shrug.

"Daddy, two pounds in the jar!" Olivia exclaims.

.

.

.

If you liked it, you can leave me a like and reblog it so it reaches more people, thanks! 🩷

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[greyyson-but-no]

softer, softest

; lmao you get shot ; typical b99 happenings ; show me going but a tad different ; she/her reader ; 16+ ;

holt's speech hadn't helped much, but jake expected there wasn't anything that could help him ease his mind at the moment. five hours ago, an announcement on the radio called about an active shooter situation, and your name, alongside a badge number, had echoed through the radio, pricking at the ears of the nine-nine's interest and instilling a deep sense of fear through all of them. all, but especially one in particular.

the squad didn't know about you and jake yet. it had only been a couple months, neither of you had been sure yet and the rest of the group knowing could only danger things worse. an agreement had been made to not tell anyone.

all it meant now, though, was that everyone was even more confused at jake's worry for you. the way his knee bounced, ends of his fingers tapping against the desk as he tried to focus on the current b&e he was working on. the crew were confused because, yeah, it made sense he was worried but they had never seen him this worried before.

jake needed to do something, and soon. more and more announcements on the radio were coming through with different codes and updates on what was happening, but none of it of any interest to them. for the first time since he bought the phone, he had it on pinging, just in case you called, or someone called on your behalf.

every phone call that came through on someone's desk had everyone sitting up to see who it was. even holt had turned off his new york philharmonic orchestra recording that he always had playing, in order to focus on the radio and any call that came through for him.

terry came through the elevator, holding a pile of pizzas in one hand, and charles followed behind, holding enough cups of coffee for everyone. "listen guys, i know none of us are going to leave this place until we hear back from y/n, so charles and i went and got pizza and coffee for the squad. eat up."

the two went around putting the food and drinks around the desk, but along the way, terry noticed jake just staring at his desk, pupils glazed over. he took a pizza and coffee over to him, sitting down at the chair beside his desk.

"y'alright jake?" he spoke, pushing the coffee towards the cop.

jake just hummed, shaking his head out of his funk and picking up the pen again to continue writing. terry was too fast, though, plucking the pen from his hands and continuing to push the coffee further towards him.

"drink it, jake, and eat the pizza, it's nearly 8pm and i haven't seen you eat since your breakfast." he pushed.

he shook his head. "m'fine."

terry almost laughed, raising an eyebrow at him. "yeah, clearly. listen, i know you're worried about her, we all are, but there's nothing we can do. she's strong, she can handle herself. you have to trust the people there and you have to trust her."

"i appreciate the sentiment, sarge, but you don't understand." he spoke, shaking his head and finally accepting the coffee, taking a sip of it as terry furrowed his eyebrows at jake.

"what do you mean?"

jake looked up and around at the precinct. rosa and amy were stood around charles' desk, trying to cheer each other up while talking about a weird case form a couple weeks ago. hitchcock and scully were, as usual, oblivious to the whole situation, and gina was chatting with holt in his office. they all had such a good relationship, they were a family.

but it was clearly still missing you, jake knew that. he thought to himself for a bit, then turned back to the sergeant, shrugging at him and not knowing how to traverse the conversation. "how would you feel if sharon was a cop and she got in an active shooter situation like this?"

"i'd storm into the place and make sure she was safe." he hadn't yet caught on, but the cogs were certainly turning.

"and holt has told me to do the exact opposite. can you see why i'm so antsy now?" jake had reached a stage of worry so new he had just sort of, shut down. his voice was low, calm, and he shrugged as he spoke.

terry shook his head. "but you and y/n, aren't-" he paused. "are you?"

that same second, holt came storming out of his office, on the phone with someone. it caught everyone's attention, and diverted jake and terry away from the conversation they were having. the phone call seemed urgent, and the way holt had come out of his room told everyone they could assuming it was about the shoot situation, and probably even more so about you.

he put down the phone in his pocket. "y/n has ben shot. they don't think it's fatal but she's on the way to the hospital now, i think we should all go."

jake was the first one to stand up and grab his coat, opting for the stairs over the elevator.

you laid peacefully in the hospital bed, shoulder wrapped up from where the bullet had hit you. it was weird. jake thought it was weird, he'd truly never seen you so peaceful before. even when you had stayed over at his, you'd moved around in your sleep. but it had been three days now, your body needing time to recover from the blood loss, and you hadn't moved in inch.

the doctor said you would wake up soon. the rest of the squad had been needed back at the precinct, but at the news of you and jake being an item, holt had given permission for him to stay - charles had even bought him over some case files to work on while he waited for you.

he was currently working on the same b&e he had been trying to finish the paperwork for when you first got shot. there were only a couple things to fill in to finalize the case, but he just wanted to get it done. and now knowing you were alive and would wake soon, he was able to concentrate on it more than previously.

it was as jake put the file back down on the table, after having filled in the last box, when you shuffled yourself under the hospital covers. you murmured, catching jake's attention, as he shuffled himself to sit up in his chair. oh my god, you were waking up.

"fuck-" you coughed, eyes opening to the bright lights of your hospital room. he chuckled, pulling his chair closer to the bed. "what the fuck happened?"

the grin on his face was something else, seeing you, awake and talking, he felt like his heart could burst. "hey honey."

lifting your head up a bit, you started to get a better idea of your surroundings, feeling the dull ache around your shoulder and the bandage wrapped around it. "i got shot, didn't i?"

"yes, you did." he had a soft smile on his face now, taking your hand in his as he let you wake up a bit. "you've been out three days."

your eyes widened at the news, shaking your head. "what?"

"i've never seen someone need so much sleep." he laughed, squeezing your hand.

"no, no." you stopped him, his smile dropping as you did so, letting yourself sit up slightly as you turned towards him, eyebrows furrowed as you went to speak. "jake, have you been here three days?"

the detective paused, eyes widening. he looked towards his girlfriend as he realized that he had, in fact, stayed here three days, in the same clothes, eating food from the vending machine at the end of the corridor, and sleeping on the chair he was sat in right now. he had never done that for anybody before - he never would have even thought of doing it for anyone else before.

but you had been shot. you were in an active shooter situation, already in danger, and then you had had someone shoot a bullet directly into your shoulder. you must have been so scared, no one else from the nine-nine you knew, he didn't want you to wake up by yourself, without knowing what happened or where you exactly were.

"yes?"

you sighed, a blissful smile on your lips as you resting a hand on his cheek. "oh jake, you beautiful bastard."

he laughed. "a very odd take on a very loving relationship, but okay."

"i love you." you smiled, realising that you hadn't said it before, but if there was ever a time for it more than now, you would eat your hat. it was the perfect moment. "and you don't have to say it back, i know-"

"i love you too." he grinned, bringing you forward to press a kiss to your forehead. "oh, and the whole squad know about us now."

shrugging, you let yourself fall backwards into the pillows, jake resting back into his own chair. "eh, it's fine now, i supposed. i mean, i just told you i loved you and i don't plan on going anywhere so i don't see why they can't know."

jake laughed, smiling at you with a look he'd never sent anyone else before, "yeah, me neither."

[saesbangs]

Could you write about Sae helping you with your college exams 🤔🩷

of course and thank u! it takes awhile to write cause i fell asleep while writing snort but well, here we go!

itoshi sae x reader.

when sae helps you with your exams.

notes: extremely self-indulgent guys im sorry lowkey i need this 😞☝

On your desk, you have your textbooks open, notes clean ready to be filled, your pen scattered waiting to be picked up, your laptop screen light up showing slides of the materials for the exam.

Tomorrow is the first day of finals.

Despite the day being Sunday, you had no room to relax. Your mind haunted by the thought of finals is right in front of your eyes. Mayhap a little bit of regret creeped into the mind as well, griefing over the time wasted which could have been spent on studying. Mayhap, it would had helped you from cramming everything the day before.

Itoshi Sae, your dear boyfriend, was there with you, in your apartment. He finally, at long last, managed to have the weekend and the next week fully off. Precious time to be spent with you, or so he thought.

Even since he arrived, you haven't even stole the shortest glance at him. Your attention glued towards the wall of text taunting on the desk. He realized you were busy, not to be disturbed. And so he took the signal and leave you alone, settling on the couch in the living room.

Few hours passed, Sae checked in on you. It was past lunch time, yet you gave out no slightest hint of wanting to take a break and eat. He left you alone, once again. But this time, he headed towards your kitchen.

No food in sight.

He sighed, picking up his phone. Fingers quickly tapped into food delivery app. With no hesitation, he ordered a bunch of your favorite food. Of course, only the healthy ones. He made sure your nutrition intake was well and nice especially when you were about to face important exams.

On your side, things weren't looking too well. Your hands trembling from the stress, stomach grumbling from hunger. You tried your best to keep grinding yet your own brain seemed to betray you.

Just read it.

Just answer the mock test questions.

Just get it right for once, Goddamnit!

Eventually you found yourself staring at the books, without a thought. You just. Sat. There. Existing. Your grip on the pen loosened up. The noise of it hitting the floor, though, was unheard. Drowned by the noise made by the door being opened.

"Hey, at least eat something," A voice called out to you with every new word sounded closer than the former, "You're going to achieve nothing like this."

As he reached your desk, able to take a better look at you, he furrowed his eyebrows while exhaling a long breath. Not from anger, not from irritation. But worry.

Right there and then, he decided.

Pushing your chair slightly away from the desk, he gave himself room to pick you up. Gently, he gripped on your waist and back, lifting you up. You had no energy to retaliate, the only protest you managed to let out was a cry not far louder than a whisper.

"I can'tー"

"No."

"Sae..."

But he was more adamant, "I said no."

On the couch, he sat you down before sitting himself beside you. The bag of food he ordered on the table, ready to be devoured. With the little energy you had, you recognized the bag to be that of your favorite.

"Wait, that's myー"

"Your favorite, yes," He finished your sentence, "Now don't waste more energy and just eat."

You giggle, faintly, "Haha, I didn't know you can be sweet like this."

He stared at you, as if to question the remark you just made.

"What?" You asked.

Gently, Sae patted your head. It was warm, tender, full of emotion. It made your half-opened eyes fluttered wide.

"We both know I can't help a lot with your study,"

He drifted his attention towards the bag of food, unpacking them, setting them up on the table. Not letting you lift even a finger to help.

"but I'm here, so let me take care of you."

You looked at him, finding warmth and love behind his flat gaze. Lips curled into a smile, first one of the day. It brought relieve to him, one he wouldn't admit.

Sae's presence didn't mean your worry was gone in an instant. But at least, you knew you weren't alone, aren't, and never will. And it brought you the strength to push through not just with the exams, but with life.

Because you weren't alone, Sae was by your side.

[kings-highway]

hi i don’t know if you’ve seen this already but i saw it and immediately needed to show it to someone who would understand.

lowkey could possibly be warped into a soulmates tattoo au

look it too me a while to decide how to respond to this because I couldn't decide what joke I wanted to make but I eventually settled on making no jokes and writing this instead. and rest assured there were many jokes I wanted to make

---

The joke, Ushijima had come to learn, was relatively misogynistic. He had not been aware, when people had first laughed when they saw the messy, scribbling Miss Kitty faces over his wrists, that it was at the subject matter rather than the circumstances. He had apologized for the lack of professionalism, but in a world with shared skin, everyone was pretty forgiving of what someone might have drawn on. Especially someone who hadn't met his soulmate.

The rest of the team doesn't really try and explain it to him. Semi halfheartedly explains that seeing such a big guy covered in what is effectively a little girl's obsession is generally amusing to people - they're laughing at him for having to interact with the media at all. He, after all, is a big, strong man, and should not be around the cute little cartoon.

They make judgements on his soulmate. They call her Miss Kitty and make jabs about what kind of girl she is - she probably wears a lot of fluffy skirts, and cat-ear headbands, and pink and bows. He nods along with this, until he realizes that they are making fun of him - and his soulmate - again.

"Because it would be funny for someone like me to be with someone like that?" Ushijima tries, and Semi has to think about it for a moment before saying: "No, more like... it's cliche. A big, strong guy like you, volleyball superstar, falling for a cute little pastel chick in a short skirt? Well, it's just a little... you know."

Ushijima does not know.

The Miss Kitty obsession is weird, though. He tries to hide it not from shame or guilty - he can barely comprehend why it's funny in the first place - but because he wants to protect her. He thinks, maybe, if she is trying to connect with him over something that she likes, he does not want anyone mocking her for it. So he covers it up, as much as he can, when everyone else is around, just to be safe.

In the evenings, though, late at night, if he stays up that long, he can see it get rubbed off. It works quickly, the way they fade, so he can imagine the girl scrubbing at her arms until they're red, as if she's angry at them. He feels bad.

Maybe she is being made fun of. Maybe she is ashamed of her own interests - maybe she feels bad for him. He tries to make her feel better, by using a pen to carefully draw the cat's face on the inside of his wrist. What he gets back is a garbled, messy set of disconnected lines, and a question mark. That's what happens when someone tries to write words. Like a bad connection. But he knows what the poor girl is asking.

Where are you?

His care in disguising the marks are not infallible, however, and eventually they have to play on a live stage, he has to put on his volleyball uniform. He had tried to tell her - he'd drawn the little volleyball over and over on his wrist, drawing a little camera, trying to tell her that he would be visible to the whole world. He doesn't know how to tell her that they laugh at her, that they think she's stupid and immature and too feminine. That those are, apparently, bad qualities. It doesn't work, though. If anything, actually, they get even worse, almost as if she's daring the world to judge her.

He smiles at that - he cannot help it.

And he tries not to hear the whispers of his team. It's not so bad, actually - there are a handful of guys who haven't met their soulmates that have designs drawn up their arm, mostly hearts and other things - the four-leafed clover, a popular pictogram way of saying 'good luck' where words weren't allowed.

He knows the camera can pick up the weird little marks on his arm, he knows the announcers will be curious, and he knows, for sure, that there will be some kind of news article circulating in volleyball circuits about his cute little soulmate and her childish obsession. He hopes they are kind to her.

But staring or no, it doesn't affect his game. They manage to pull through with the win, and retreat to the locker room to cheer and celebrate and talk about going out for drinks. Ushijima agrees to go along, pulling on his street clothes and jacket and tucking the Miss Kitty marks safely away, but - there's a new one. He must not have noticed, in the heat of the game, that his soulmate had scrubbed clean a patch on her their skin, and replaced the Miss Kitty designs with a winking smiley face. That was new.

He hides it anyway, not wanting to deal with the gossip of his teammates, and hurries to follow them outside and take the short walk over to the bar that they liked.

"Ushijima Wakatoshi."

It's a voice he's never heard before. He turns, frowning, as he lets his eyes take in the tall, lanky, rather odd looking young man, lips curled in a self satisfied sneer, eyes heavy. He is... weird, Ushijima decides. He does not hold himself like most people do.

"Can I help you?"

"You are not an easy man to track down," he adds, before tugging up the sleeve of his own jacket, holding out his arm so that Ushijima could see the winking face on the inside of his wrist, the surrounding skin littered with fading Miss Kitty designs.

Oh.

Wait-

"You are not what people said you would be," Ushijima says, quickly, trying to reconcile the expectation that an obsession with Miss Kitty must surely equal a young, cute woman with a penchant for childish toys. This man was as tall as he was, and dressed down, rather lazily. Ushijima would not have guessed him to be his soulmate, based on that. "You're... you're the person who's obsessed with Miss Kitty? I assumed you'd be a woman."

"Ah," the man says, clicking his tongue. "Sorry about that one, yeah... How else was I supposed to find you? Everyone in the world is wandering around with hearts and clovers and pretty designs on their arms. I needed to make sure I could identify you, even from afar. And I like the stupid cat, sue me."

"I would not sue you over this," Ushijima replies, alarmed immediately.

"Wh-what? No! I just meant-" and his soulmate breaks into a cackling sort of laugh that Ushijima quite likes the sound of. He seems thoroughly caught off guard by his sincerity in the matter. He wanders closer still, and holds out his hand. "Tendou Satori," he says. "Thanks for giving me a warning about the volleyball game, wouldn't have thought to check sports coverage otherwise."

Ushijima reaches to take his hand. "Thank you for trying so hard to find me."

"Eh. Selfish reasons for doing that."

"I'm still grateful for it. I'm... on my way to meet up with my team, celebrate the victory... would you like to come? I have a feeling that they are all going to be very... very interested in meeting you."

"Oh? Well who am I to deny. Lead the way."

[charliemwrites]

Before charmed slasher Simon revealed his true identity, what were movie nights like? I’d kill for a lil section on them almost cuddling on the couch while watching a scary movie and Simon absolutely adoring when you jump and scooch closer to him on instinct 🥹🥹 please charlie I beg you 😭

*Checks notes, chats with The Council* Yeah okay... we can do that.

CW for a bit of somnophilia and Simon being a creep!!

You open the door looking like some kind of pastry with too-big eyes. Soft, cream-colored pair of joggers and a thin pink jumper, so fuzzy he just knows he'll find fluff on him after this. You look so cozy and sweet; he wants to put a pretty belled collar on you. Maybe watch you curl up in a nest of blankets, safe behind the bars of a cage.

But maybe not, he muses as you chirp a greeting, taking his hand to tug him into your apartment. A lamb inviting a wolf to the pen. He likes you best like this, all loose limbed and free to roam. Thinks maybe you'd lose some of that mischievous glint if he locked you up.

The collar though... he'd like to hear it ring as you bounce around him.

"I am the bestest friend ever," you declare, squeezing calloused fingers so much bigger and crueler and blood-stained than your own. "You know why?"

He arches an eyebrow. Your impish smile widens with delight. "Why's that, luv?"

"Well, you know that one place you wanted last week, but they were closed?"

He grunts and nods. Last week was your choice to pick the movie, which mean he was in charge of dinner.

"Well... they're still closed for repairs but! I talked to the owner, who talked to his mum, and she gave me the recipe for that dish you like. So guess what I did!"

He stares at you for a moment, teeth aching his jaw with the urge to sink them into soft flesh. Mark you as his. How the hell are you real? How the hell are you here?

When he's silent a beat to long, you click your tongue.

"You're no fun - I tried to make it," you explain.

Only then does he become aware of the scent in your apartment. Garlic and red meat and savory spices. His mouth fills with saliva as he focuses his attention on you again.

"Smells great, luv," he says, flicking the corner of his mouth up.

You beam. "Hopefully it's good! I tried it first and it seems alright, but I'm not sure it's as good as the restaurant."

It's almost not a conscious thought to snap his arm out and scoop you up, dragging you in against his chest. You yelp initially, but it devolves into a little giggle as you flatten your palms against his chest.

"Thank you, luv."

Every time he comes into your home, it's a struggle not to keep you. Not to take this place for himself, keep you for his own among all your pretty, soft things. Blood washes out; he'd show you how.

"Rileyyyy!" you mock-whine, pushing at him. "C'mon, before it gets cold."

He wants to make a comment about eating you. Simon thinks he could survive a winter on your taste alone. Instead he lets you on your feet, eases his snake-like grip around your waist. You cast him one last, warm look and skip off to the kitchen to fill bowls with food.

"So what movie are we watching?" you call.

"You ever seen Sinister?" he asks.

You make an annoyed noise. "You know I haven't!"

"Well, that's what we're watching."

You appear with a full, steaming bowl and a beer, shoo him to the couch with a little kick to his ankles. "Get it set up while I finish serving."

"Bossy thing," he tuts, voice a little too low for teasing.

The bridge of your nose darkens with a flush, but you make a cheeky little face in return. "Someone's gotta keep you in line!"

You're gone before you can hear the rumble in his chest. Some days he could swear you know what you're doing; that you know just what sort of animal you're poking at. That you're seeing just how much you can prod before he springs.

He tries not to imagine that cheeky, smug little smirk going all wet-eyed and desperate with lust. Sits to hide the bulge forming in his pants and sets up the movie.

You saunter out with your own, less-filled bowl and a glass of white wine. Take one look at the screen and shoot him an exasperated look.

"I should have known," you complain.

"Literally called Sinister, luv."

"Yeah, I know," you lament.

As soon as the movie starts you're curling into his side, eyes huge. Meal forgotten in your lap.

"Oh, no," you whisper, tilting your face to give him a pleading look. "I can't eat like this!"

"Eat quick, luv. You'll have a break after this first part.”

You do as you’re told; take a big sip of wine when you’re done - just in time for the first jumpscare. You save the wine but quickly put it away, shrinking down against the cushions.

“You’re mean, awful, terrible,” you mumble, fumbling a blanket off the back of the couch.

“‘S not very nice,” he snorts, licking his fork clean. You’d made it quite well for a first time. Not necessarily as good as the restaurant’s but better for you having made it special for him.

“You’re not very nice,” you reply, going stiff with fear as the “home movies” start playing. “No no no, fuck all of that.”

As soon as he’s set his bowl aside, you’re clinging in his arm. Bicep squished against your breasts, little fingers curling hard into flesh. He hopes you’ll leave cute little bruises. Your eyes are huge trained on the tv, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Holy shit,” you squeak, hiding your face.

Chuckling, he nudges at you. “Uh uh, no hiding. C’mon, I’m right here.”

You whimper and snuggle in even closer, wedged up against his ribs, leaning into him. Nearly climb into his lap when the creature starts moving on the screen, hands flapping.

“Fuuuuuck that,” you whine, “he’s so fucked oh my god.”

Simon chuckles, setting his other hand on your thigh. Indulges in stroking his thumb over the inseam of your joggers. You barely even seem to notice, engrossed in fear.

By the end, you’re fanning yourself of the panic, shooting him a look that’s meant to be accusing but mostly just owlish.

“You have to make it up to me,” you declare.

Oh, he could think of a dozen ways to do that.

“Yeah?” he rumbles. “What do you need?”

“We’re watching something else. My pick this time.” You pause, shoot him a worried look. “Can you stay for another?”

He smirks. “Couldn’t kick me out if you tried, luv.”

You really couldn’t. Because you’re adorable when you’re scared. Look like something to ruin. But the aftermath is almost better. When your body melts into warmth and (false) safety. The anxiety drains away, leaving you sleepy and pliable. You’ll fall asleep within the hour.

And you do. Clue playing (subtitles on) you’re snoozing against his shoulder before long. He waits until the movie ends for plausible deniability, then takes you to bed. You hardly stir, save to press your nose against his collar with a little hum.

He eases you out of your joggers, eyes flickering at the pretty lace clinging to your hips. Tiny little bows at the sides.

Snuffs out the bedside lamp and fishes his fully-hard cock from his pants. He teases his free hand along your inner thigh, over the lace front of your panties. Scrapes his nail a bit where your clit is hidden. Nearly purrs when you moan softly, wiggling on the mattress to open your thighs wider, still out cold.

Fucks his other hand vicious and brutal, relishing the slight dry pain. Fast and hard, already worked up from having you trembling against him for over an hour. It doesn’t take long to fall over that edge, the memory of your squeaks and cries finishing him off.

He covers the sensitive, angry tip as he cums, no matter how much he wants to paint you with his spend. He takes a deep breath as the pleasure courses through him, twitching through aftershocks. Cracks his neck as he peeks your peaceful expression.

Can’t help himself. Smears his wet thumb over the front of your panties. Nothing you’ll notice in the morning, but you’ll spend all night with him marking your cunt. Maybe even all day tomorrow.

He should go.

Ends up gently, carefully, glossing your bitten bottom lip with a drop of cum as well. Gets rock hard all over again when your tongue flicks out at the sensation, tasting. Still unconscious. You roll over with a sleepy sigh and curl up.

Simon pulls the blankets over you and returns to the living room to clean up from dinner. He’s not yet willing to slink back to his den.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[vermilionsun]

Your Touchstarved headcanons are wonderful! You are almost single handedly keeping me sane while I wait for the full game. Truly, you are a blessing to this fandom.

I was wondering if you had any thoughts about what any of the LIs would think of an MC who is a Writer/Artist. Maybe they had to give it up for a while when they left to go to Erridia?

Or...

Since MC is broke, what do the LIs think of them showing affection through gifts, even if they haven't got money? I can imagine they make simple, inexpensive things like paper flowers for Leander or friendship bracelets for Ais.

Anyway I hope you have a great day, keep up the good work and thanks for posting so much good stuff.💐🌼

I’m actually crying you’re so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH?!! AVCKHVCEBFC 😭😭

I took it a step further, I hope you don't mind.

This is 1/2 :)

Disclaimer! They/Them for MC because we love inclusivity!

Kuras

Writer

He’d probably figure it out rather quickly. The way they would meticulously jot down notes, the endless stream of ideas, and their thoughtful insights into various u̶n̶c̶o̶n̶v̶e̶n̶t̶i̶o̶n̶a̶l̶ topics. Or perhaps he had caught glimpses of their constantly ink-stained fingers. Either way, it became another entry in Kuras' catalogue of fascinating things about them. Undeniably intrigued, he couldn't help but wonder if their writing reflected their innermost thoughts and desires—if each word they wrote held a piece of their soul, waiting to be discovered by someone willing to delve into the depths of their imagination—or perhaps if it was simply a creative outlet for emotions they couldn't express otherwise.

Kuras found himself wanting to uncover the layers of complexity that made up the enigmatic individual behind the pages of their notebooks. And he was more than willing to take on that challenge.

Taking into consideration the fact that perhaps the MC wouldn't be able to afford fancy writing tools or notebooks, often writing down messy notes in napkins with worn-out pens and crayons left behind by patrons at the Wick, Kuras would gift them a brand new notebook and a set of pens, hoping that the small gesture would encourage the MC to continue expressing themselves through writing and perhaps even open up to him about the deeper secrets of themselves they had yet to reveal.

Vere

Artist

As a fellow artist himself, Vere knew to recognize talent when he saw it, no matter how subtle or unassuming it may appear at first glance. After all, true artistry is not just about skill but also passion and dedication. He didn't miss the way the MC's eyes lingered a moment longer on the brush strokes of a distant painting in a random Eridian shop with such reverence, as if trying to capture the essence of the art itself, before moving on, or the way their eyes focused on the lightning dancing across the sky and their fingers twitched with an unspoken desire to create. 

Vere could sense the raw artistry bubbling just beneath the surface; he saw in them the same hunger for self-expression and longing for freedom that had driven him to pursue his own artistic endeavours. 

So he carefully crafted a plan. He discreetly left behind pens and paper in the MC's vicinity. He didn't directly hand it to them, opting to let them stumble upon the supplies, hoping that the MC would take notice and feel compelled to pick up the tools on their own accord. Don't ask him why he did so; he doesn't know the answer himself. Perhaps because of an inexplicable curiosity and a desire to see if he could spark something within the MC, to see if he could ignite that same creative flame that burned within him. Or maybe it was simply a gut feeling. Regardless, he watched from a distance as the MC began to tentatively pick up the pens and paper, their eyes alight with newfound inspiration. It brought a g̶e̶n̶u̶i̶n̶e̶ satisfied smile to his face, his tail wagging back and forth in contentment.

Leander

Dance

Leander figured the MC used to be a dancer. It was obvious if one paid close attention; their perfect posture, precision, strength, and flexibility in their body were a dead giveaway. He'd notice the gracefulness in their movements, every step deliberate and full of confidence, and the fluid transitions between postures.

Leander found himself bewitched. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the MC as they'd effortlessly glided around the Wick, their feet barely making a sound against the hardwood floor. It was effortless, seamless, and utterly captivating. He will admit he couldn't help the small smile once he'd noticed the subtle way they would often tap their feet to the rhythm of a song roaring throughout the tavern.

It was a talent that couldn't be hidden, no matter how hard they tried.

His plan was simple: He needed some sort of opening, somewhere to insert himself into the situation without coming across as intrusive (o̶r̶ a̶g̶g̶r̶e̶s̶s̶i̶v̶e̶… o̶r̶ d̶e̶m̶a̶n̶d̶i̶n̶g̶… o̶r̶—). He would simply attempt to start a conversation with them and praise their dance skills, hoping to learn more about that talent of theirs—maybe even ask them for a dance later in the evening—while also finding a way to subtly steer the conversation towards more personal matters.

N̶o̶, i̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶n̶'t̶ n̶e̶r̶v̶e̶s̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ f̶l̶u̶t̶t̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ i̶n̶ h̶i̶s̶ s̶t̶o̶m̶a̶c̶h̶. I̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ p̶r̶o̶b̶a̶b̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ e̶x̶c̶i̶t̶e̶m̶e̶n̶t̶ o̶f̶ t̶h̶e̶ u̶n̶k̶n̶o̶w̶n̶ o̶u̶t̶c̶o̶m̶e̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ a̶w̶a̶i̶t̶e̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶ a̶n̶d̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶—

Mhin

Sculpture

They noticed something was up because the MC. wouldn’t. stop. staring. at their face. The way their eyes lingered on Mhin's features made them feel self-conscious, as if every flaw and imperfection were being scrutinised under a microscope.

Mhin couldn't decipher the intent behind the intense gaze, but it left them feeling both uncomfortable and strangely flattered. They couldn't help but wonder what it was about their appearance that captivated the MC so intensely. It was as if they'd seen something in them that no one else did—something worth examining closely.

They tried to maintain a neutral expression but ended up shifting uncomfortably in their seat, trying to break the look that seemed to be piercing through their very soul. 

It wasn't until the MC finally spoke up, complimenting Mhin's bone structure and suggesting they would make a great model for a sculpting project, that Mhin made the connection.

The revelation made Mhin feel incredibly flattered and intrigued, as they had never considered themselves to be particularly striking or noteworthy. The idea of being immortalised in stone by someone talented was… intimidating. And somehow humbling.

Ais

Architecture

He is observant, and can easily notice a person who seems particularly interested in a specific thing. He observed them, their body language, facial expressions and the way they looked at things around them, their eyes tracing the fine details from afar—it was almost like they were analysing them.

What made his suspicions clear was...the Seaspring. F̶i̶n̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ d̶a̶m̶n̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ w̶a̶s̶ u̶s̶e̶f̶u̶l̶ a̶t̶ s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ b̶e̶y̶o̶n̶d̶ b̶r̶i̶n̶g̶i̶n̶g̶ d̶e̶s̶p̶a̶i̶r̶

It was the way they looked at the building in particular; their eyes darted around, as if examining every inch, every line and curve of the temple. He’d smirk to himself, eyes following their every move, as if he could read their thoughts.

He’d bring them anything; from papers, inks and rulers to wood and other building materials. He’d let them demolish, remodel, completely renovate the fucking thing—he couldn’t care less, as long as he had somewhere to rest at night. Besides, their smile was worth more to him than any amount of power he could be offered.

I could make another one with Singing/Music, Theatre and Design or Ceramics perhaps….

[eviemonroeer]

The Monroe Effect: Chapter 14

Set during Season 5, Episode 20 of ER. Spoilers if you haven't seen the show.

Warnings: lewd/suggestive conversation, vomiting, language

WC: 3.9 k

ER story belongs to original creators, just adding on my own original charter.

Taglist: @pleasecallmeunhinged, @rainmg, @arigoldsblog, @queenslandlover-93, @hagarsays, and @antisocialfiore

Main Story: prev | next

Snapshots: prev | next

I rubbed my forehead and tried with all of my might to keep what little breakfast I was able to eat in my stomach. I wasn’t running a fever, so I had to have food poisoning. It had happened once or twice before, but this was the worst case. I hated throwing up more than anything, even more than getting thrown up on. If this was a sign of what was to come, I was in for a long shift. 

I tried to steer clear of working with any patients that might upset my stomach. I know we’re not supposed to cherry pick patients, but it was either that or toss my cookies in front of everyone. That meant nothing oozing or bleeding too bad. So, I stuck to the headache, shoulder pain, and the ankle sprain for now. I even managed to take some blood a little later on, which made me want to pat myself on the back. Maybe I had this under control.

That strength of course had to be tested when Lucy, back in the ER fresh from her psych rotation, called me in to help with her newest patient. A woman coming in with shortness of breath and a history of heart issues would have been fine. But a woman with these issues coming in carrying a suitcase full of scents and sprays was not what I needed right now. And of course, sweet, curious Lucy had to go through all of them herself. 

“Here Evie, try this.” Lucy encouraged. 

“I’m not the best with smells right now.” I shook my head and started placing monitors for vitals. 

“Oh, come on, try it.” 

I sighed and relented, hoping my stomach would behave. I took the bottle and sniffed it. It actually was pretty good, almost reminded me of Carter. Especially when he wore that one cologne I got him for Christmas last year. It made my heart happy and sad at the same time. I still hadn’t given him an answer to the question of whether or not we should try a relationship. And I could tell the boy was getting antsy. I put the bottle back in the box. 

“‘Pher-Catch’. That’s what I need.” Lucy said, picking up a bottle with a pink liquid inside. 

“That one has no perfume enhancement.” The woman, Phyllis Farr, explained. “Just pure synthetic pheromones for those who want to maximize biologic signals.” 

“I should try this on Al.” Lydia purred. She and Chuny had come in the room to check it out once they heard what she claimed to have: perfumes that enhance your attraction to the opposite sex.

“No, you’re already in a committed relationship, “Full-Pher” is for you.” This time it was a bottle with a green liquid inside. “It has a sandalwood fragrance but with a dopamine-like boost.”

“Mhm, nice.” Chuny exclaimed. “And I’m not one for perfumes.” 

“This isn’t perfume! It’s biochemical-awareness therapy.” 

“They say pheromones are responsible for who you’re attracted to and why women friends get their period at the same time.” Lucy said and sprayed some on her wrist. Then, of course, she had to go and spray my neck while I was checking vitals. 

“Hey!” I exclaimed. 

“Exactly. Medical professionals always understand.” Phyllis and the others chuckled as the curtain pulled back. 

“Looking for me?” Carter asked, taking in the scene before him. 

“Oh, uh, this uh, Phyllis Farr.” Lucy started, handing Carter the chart as Chuny and Lydia left us. “And she experienced some shortness of breath this morning.” She handed Carter a pen, wrist up, and waved it under his nose as he looked the chart over. Phyllis and I both laughed, and I shook my head. “She has a history of A-fib and had an embolic CVA two years ago, and she is now on Coumadin and Dig.” 

“One teeny, tiny little stroke.” Phyllis shrugged. “And I was smoking like a chimney then.”  She leaned into Lucy as Carter put on his stethoscope. “Some men are inherently less receptive.” She mumbled. 

“Hmm?” Carter hummed, thinking she was talking to him.  

“I think it was just anxiety. I have a meeting with Marshall Fields—” She paused as he started checking her chest.  

“Miss Farr thinks she doesn’t need to stay.” Lucy informed him. “I’d like her admitted to telemetry. Her dyspnea was relieved by nitro, and it could be angina.” 

“Darling, I told you I am entirely too young for that.”

“I don’t think we need to admit you quite yet.” Carter started. “But we should get you on an EKG and monitor you here in the ER. Also check a troponin with a CPK.” He said that last part to me. I nodded.  

“You’re saying to cancel with Marshall Fields?” 

“They want you all the more when they know you’re busy.”

I walked around the bed and over to Carter, taking the chart from him. As I turned, I heard him sniff. “Hey Evie.” I stopped and looked at him. “Whatever you have on is really nice.” He said before walking away. I looked at Lucy and Phyllis, both giving me knowing glances. I rolled my eyes and walked back towards admit, grateful for the moment of fresher air.  

The lights went out just as I was headed for the bathroom. I had passed by the room of someone vomiting and I guess my body was audibly triggered. Now I wouldn’t get the chance. “Damn it.” I muttered. I took a couple deep breaths, calming down before I turned and headed back to Ms. Farr’s room. I needed to check to make sure her EKG monitor was still up and running. I opened the door to the exam room and stopped in my tracks when I saw who had joined her. 

“Hi Gen.” 

“Hi Roxanne.” I said, trying to be as chill as I could. The lights flicked back on, illuminating all three of us. “What are you doing back here?” 

“Oh, just waiting for Carter. Ms. Farr was so kind to tell me about her business. It’s such a great idea.” 

“It really is.” I forced a smile as I walked past them to the EKG monitor. The screen was mostly black and what lines there were on it, weren’t moving. Shit. I tried rebooting it several times, but nothing I was doing was working. And the two of them just sat there and talked while I panicked both about the monitor and the fact the woman Carter cheated on with me and was now probably going to break up with for me was two feet away. I couldn’t think right now. 

“Ms. Farr, I will be right back.” I said and left the room quickly. Thankfully, Carter was at admit, so I didn’t have to go searching for him. 

“Carter, can you help me reboot Ms. Farr’s EKG monitor? The battery pack was low. I think it shut off when we lost power.” 

“Yeah, I’ll try.” 

I walked ahead of him and made it back in the room before he did. I went back to the machine, trying to continue booting it back up. But when I heard the door close again, I turned my head slightly to watch him out of the corner of my eyes. He was tense and honestly looked kind of mad. And I didn’t really know if it was at Roxanne or me. 

“Look, some companies won’t consider clients with high-risk profiles, especially those with pre-existing conditions.” 

“Roxanne?” Oh, I knew that tone. Carter was pissed. 

“Oh, Dr. Carter.” Ms. Farr said, oblivious to it all. “I seem to be powerless.” 

“Yes, I know. I’ll take care of that in a minute. Roxanne?” 

“Yeah. Bye.” The blonde said to the older woman as she grabbed her things and headed out of the room with Carter. As soon as they were gone I physically and mentally relaxed, my brain finally clearing. I guess I must have audibly breathed a sigh of relief, because Ms. Farr turned to me and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sensing some tension here.” 

“I’m so sorry Ms. Farr. You should not have seen that.” 

“I’m guessing that she is Dr. Carter’s girlfriend.” I nodded, not making eye contact as I continued pressing buttons. “And I take it you didn’t know she was coming in today.” Nod. “Mm-hmm.” She hummed. 

I knew my face was red and the heat was rising up my neck. I pressed another set of buttons and thankfully, the monitor came back to life. I turned as the door opened again and Carter came in. 

“Sorry Ms. F—” 

“I got it working.” I announced and pushed past Carter. 

I headed straight to the bathroom to puke. 

Once I was settled back down for the moment and cleaned up, I left the bathroom into more hustle and bustle then normal. There were also a couple more security officers then normal. What the hell happened while I was in there? Was I really gone that long?

“Evie did you hear?” Connie asked as she and Haleh walked by. 

 “Uh, no.” I said, wiping the side of my mouth. “What’s going on?”

 “Corday and I found a girl in the hallway. Beaten and assaulted.” Haleh explained. 

“Turns out she was a patient upstairs in the medical ward.” Connie finished. 

“What? No wonder the cops are everywhere.” 

“I hope Dr. Corday got a good look at the bastard.” Connie said, shaking her head.  

“Pretty scary.” Haleh added as we rounded the corner to admit. A group consisting of Chuny, Jerry, Lydia, and Dr. Romano were already there. 

“You know, even I'm looking over my shoulder.”  

“Let’s keep our voices down.” Romano said, looking at us as we joined the group. “The police agree that we should alert all staff to the possibility of a tech or someone who looks like a tech and may be dangerous. But let’s try to avoid a general panic.”

“You mean not tell the patients?” Chuny asked.  

“Ah, at this point, it doesn't seem necessary.”

“The guy probably bolted.” Jerry offered.  

“Still, don't leave any patients unattended for any period of time and don't relinquish patients into the hands of anyone who you don’t recognize or who doesn't have proper hospital I.D.” 

“What if you're not sure?” Lydia asked.  

“There's a policeman stationed in every hallway. Call them. All right?”

We all nodded and went our separate ways. Thankfully, my patients from earlier had all been released, so I just had Ms. Farr right now. I went back into her exam room to find her still messing with bottles. I went over to the machine and started checking her readings.

“How am I looking, Evie?”

“So far so good. But that’s doesn’t mean things can’t change.” I paused and turned to her. “I’m very sorry about running out of here earlier. That was very unprofessional.”

“It’s alright dear. I imagine there’s a story as to why you didn’t want to be in the room with both of them. Especially after the way Dr. Carter reacted to you wearing that scent earlier.”

I scoffed. “You could say that.”

“How long have you known Dr. Carter?”

“Uh, we’ve been friends for five years.”

“Friends? I don’t react that way with my friends.” She scoffed. “Are you sure you and Dr. Carter have never been more?” I didn’t say anything, just copied down her current vitals. “I’ll take that as a yes, but you have not told anyone. It’s alright dear, your secret is safe with me.” 

Suddenly, Ms. Farr grabbed her head and let out some air. “Are you alright?” 

“It’s fine. Just a little dizzy.”

“I’ll be right back.” 

I stepped out of the room and found Lucy first. She looked her over, noticing Phyllis was becoming a little altered and wanted to take her up for a CT. Technically she was Carter’s patient, so I advised to let me go find him and get his opinion. I found him by admit talking to Jerry. 

“Hey Carter, can you come? Miss Farr's a little altered. Lucy wants to send her for a head CT.”

“Doesn't Lucy have her own patient?” He asked before standing to follow me. When we walked back into the exam room, Ms. Farr was sniffing one of the bottles. I went back to check her monitors and do a blood pressure check. “Hey Lucy. Did you get that hip x-ray result back on Mrs. Armstrong?” 

“No, it's not done yet and psych is on their way down. I'm actually a little worried. Miss Farr seems a little bit confused. I think she should have a head CT.”

“I’ll handle it.” 

“I'll see you later, Miss Farr.” Lucy said, turning and leaving the room. 

“Sex.” That word stopped the whole room. I couldn’t help but look up at Carter, probably looking like a deer in headlights. I shook my head and looked back at Ms. Farr.  

“What?”

“That's the name of the scent. "Pher-Sex."” She looked up at me and raised her eyebrow. 

“So, your head hurts?” Carter asked, walking over to the bed. 

“It may be stuffy in here.”

“We should put your perfumes away.” He said, motioning to how she turned one of our trays into a display table. “Some of them are a little strong.” 

“You have a very slender nose.”

“Do I?”

“Makes common sense.” She told me as I continued my checks while Carter did his. “The size of the VNO would correspond to the size of the nasal cavity.”

“VNO?” I asked. 

“Vomeronasal organ. The structure that picks up subtle messages from other people's glands.” She turned to Carter. “Do you find yourself affected by the opposite sex?”

“Oh, I'd say I notice them.” He said, his eyes briefly looking up at me. I kept my head down on purpose, focusing on the monitors. 

“What about your ability to bond?”

“Follow my finger. Are you experiencing weakness or numbness, Ms. Farr?”

“See, people with deficient VNOs often have trouble appreciating oxytocin which is the hormone that evokes deep inta-inim-intimacy.” She struggled with that last part.

“I think we should set Miss Farr up with a head CT.” He told me, us both having noticed the same signs in his exam. I reached around to adjust one of her monitors.

“Dr. Carter, were you breast-fed?” We both made eye contact and I shrugged, daring him to answer the question. He shook his head and came over to the side of the bed I was on, writing on the chart. Then, in almost a comical sort of way, the power went out and a bolt of lightning lit up the room. I groaned and immediately unplugged her monitor, switching it to the red plug. 

“Don't worry, Mrs. Farr. We keep flashlights by all the...” And in true Carter fashion, he knocked over the tray of perfumes, breaking some on the floor or tipping them over. “What did I spill?”

“Everything.” I said and started to pick up the broken pieces as best as I could. The smell was really overwhelming, and I tried to hold my breath as my stomach started to swirl. Carter joined me on the ground and looked at me. 

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine. J-just go call CT and see how backed up they’ll be now that the lights are out and we’re working on auxiliary power.” I stood slowly and put the broken pieces on the tray. He did the same before turning to exit the room. 

“He’s going to smell fabulous.” Ms. Farr purred. 

I continued cleaning up the best I could and checking in on her. I was almost completely cleaned up when her monitors started going off as she slumped. “Damn it!” I muttered and ran out of the room. “Carter! She's crashing!” I yelled to him as he, Lucy, and Mark were bringing in a new patient. 

“Oh, no!”

“Miss Farr?”

“Get on it, both of you.” 

The three of us ran back into the room and began working. We got her back in rhythm from a shock off the batteries, but anymore of that and we wouldn’t have a monitor anymore. Carter had me prep for a nasotracheal intubation. 

“Why are you doing a naso-trach?” Lucy asked as he got started. 

“Won’t have to paralyze her.” Carter said as he carefully and slowly sent it through her nose. “All right, I'm in. Go ahead. Bag her.” I moved the ventilator over.  

“Good job.” Lucy said as she connected the bag and began pumping. 

“Not really. Without a CT, I have no idea what to do next.” 

“Don't you think she threw a clot?”

“Maybe. If she's inadequately anticoagulated.”

“So, she needs heparin to thin her blood and to prevent further clotting, right?” 

“What if she's over anticoagulated and bleeding in her brain? Then she needs IK and

FFP. Heparin would kill her.” Carter checked her with his stethoscope. “Good breath sounds. Hook her up.” I handed him the vent tube. 

“That's why you needed a ProTime.”

“Bingo.” He attached the tube. 

“Is an AC of 14 okay in the vent?” I asked. But I barely saw Carter nod before the auxiliary power failed and we were surrounded by darkness. “We're dead.”

“I'll bag her.” Lucy said, removing the tube and reattaching the bag.  

“What the hell?!” Carter yelled in frustration. “Evie, go get Mark.” 

I nodded and hustled through Trauma One into Trauma Two. “Mark, Carter needs you!”  

“Okay. Go, Mark. I got this one.” Peter assured him before he followed me back to Exam Two.” When we got in there, Carter explained Ms. Farr’s history and symptoms to Mark. 

“So basically, we're boned. The wrong treatment could kill her.” He ended with.

“Don't worry, Ms. Farr. We're here with you.” Lucy said, stilling bagging. 

“Our hands are tied without the CT. Watch her chest expansions.” He told Lucy.

“I am.”  

“Whole-blood clotting time.” Mark said, standing from his check.

“What?”

“Something from the Dark Ages.” He walked over to me. “Evie, you don’t have an extra red top on you?” 

“Of her blood? Yeah. Lydia told me to always hold one.” I reached over and grabbed it off the tray. 

“How long ago did you draw it?”

“About 45 minutes ago.” 

Mark turned on his flashlight and examined the sample with it. “Yeah. No signs of clotting. I'll say she's over anticoagulated.”

“So, we treat her?” Carter asked.

“We do an LP first.” I nodded and took the blood, going to set up for the LP. The door to the room opened. A man who a recognized as a psych resident stood there. 

“Miss Knight, do you have a minute?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I'll take over.” I offered. “As long as you boys can set up without me.” 

Mark nodded and Lucy left the room as they began setting up. I just kept bagging, pressing in every three seconds at a steady pace. 

“Prep with the vitamin K?” Mark asked as he began the LP, Carter checking her pupils with his pen light. 

“And mannitol, in case she herniates.” John reminded.  

“Don't worry, Carter. I'm using a 22-gauge needle. You holding up, Evie?

“Oh, yeah. Strong hands.” I replied, though I could feel myself slowly starting to lose strength. I hadn’t really eaten today on account of all the nausea.  

“Don't be afraid to let Carter know if you need to be spelled.” Carter nodded at me from his spot holding her head. Mark put in the needle and began collecting. “Let's get the FFP. Give vitamin IK, milligrams, slow IV push. How are the pupils, Carter?” 

“Equal and reactive. Thanks for the backup.” 

“No problem.” 

Thankfully a few minutes later, as Mark finished up, the power came back on to everyone’s delight. Another nurse came in and switched out with me as other patients were able to be put back on vents again.  

“CT's holding a table.” Mark said as we wheeled Ms. Farr out into admit. 

“How are you doing, Mrs. Farr?” Carter asked. She pointed to the tube in her nose. “We'll take that out when you come back. I was very careful with your VNO.” 

“So, Carter, I need to ask you,” Mark started as we let transport take over. “What was going on in there?”

“I was worried that she'd herniate.”

“I mean between you and me. I was getting a weird energy.” I just sat back and listened, following behind them with the chart.  “I mean, it was almost like you were.... I couldn't tell if you were being territorial or admiring me. Ah, I don't want to say that you were flirting. Cause I mean obviously you weren't flirting with me, were you?” 

“Oh, man! You know, I spilled those pheromones on me, like a whole bottle.”

“Is that what I smelled?”

“Maybe that’s what you were picking up on, one of those chemicals.”

“That's pretty far-fetched.” Mark said, noticing Carter had put a hand on his shoulder.

“I mean, I admired you when you went for the LP.” Carter stuttered. “But that was it.” He held up the bag on LP fluids. “I better get these to the lab.” He took a moment before walking up. Mark came over to me. 

“Get him?” I asked. 

“Got him.” He confirmed. We both bumped fists before he too walked away. I took a deep breath and went back to my chart. 

 “Hey, Evie.” Carol said popping up next to me. “Kerry brought food. I saved you a piece of chicken.” She held out the piece of meat to me on a napkin. 

The smell hit me like a punch, sending a warning sign to get to the bathroom. I tried to keep my face as collected as possible. “That’s sweet, but I’m alright right now. Thanks though.” I turned and returned Ms. Farr’s chart to the holder and made my way to the hallway. I knew I wasn’t going to make it to the bathroom. All I had time for was to grab an emesis basin from the supply rack before I blew chunks. 

 “Woah. Are you okay?” I looked up and Mark was walking towards me, that concerned dad look etched into his face. 

“No.” I barely got out before I hurled again. “I think I have food poisoning.” I added with a cough. 

“How long has this been going on?” 

“All day.” 

“Really? You’ve been hiding it well. Okay, why don’t you get cleaned up and head home. I’ll tell Carol what happened.” 

“I’m fine Mark. I only have an hour left.” 

“Yeah, and in that time, you could pass out or vomit on one of your patients.” 

“I’ll wear an IV or take some Compazine.” 

“Gen, come on. Take the free pass and go home. I know I would prefer to get sick in the privacy of my own place.” 

I gagged again and Mark took the full basin, handing me an empty one. But thank God it was just a false alarm. I nodded slowly. “Okay, fine. I’ll go home.” 

I sighed and leaned my head back against the wall as the toilet flushed, the rain still heavily falling outside. All I could think was that I needed to brush my teeth badly, but I was scared the nausea would get triggered again if I stuck anything in my mouth. I had to get rid of this taste.  

Maybe mouth wash would be better? 

I slowly crawled over to my sink and opened up the cabinet door, looking for the container. I began digging through everything when my blood ran cold. 

 “Oh shit.” 

I sat back, holding up the unopened box of tampons. Nausea, vomiting, sensitivity to smell. Now that it was all right in front of me, I had the sinking realization that I hadn’t had my period since before the big storm. 

Since the night I had sex with Carter. 

“Fuck!”

[oshinohoshi]

Oshi no Ko chapter 166 thoughts - the end of all things

So uh... the only positive thing I can say here besides the beautiful Ai art is that I felt sad reading the page where Miyako was hugging Ruby. Everything else left me completely empty

This chapter is either:

A) A self-aware ending meant to show that life is suffering and the idol industry will suck out your soul if you let it

B) Outsourced to someone who skimmed OnK for 30 seconds on Wikipedia before putting pen to paper

It has to be A, right? You can't tell me that the same author wrote both of these pages without the right being ironic

But I don't think so because big brained Akane is the one clumsily narrating this crappy montage masquerading as a real ending

Aqua died for nothing. His sister is now a soulless cog in the idol machine

Ruby is mimicking Ai's speech - "Lies are an outstanding kind of love... We pile on the lies and no matter how hard things get, we sing and act happy onstage. It's a fun job!" But she forgot the rest of it: "Only, I'd like the 'being happy' part to be real. Nobody notices, but we have hearts and lives of our own. Happiness as a mother. Happiness as an idol. Normally you'd have to pick one, but I want both. Ai Hoshino is a greedy girl"

Ai wasn't only a misunderstood girl who worked hard to please her fans. That was a big part of her story but she also broke the rules to create her own family, her own happiness

Ruby, on the other hand, seems to have no real desires anymore, she's just following a path she believes her mother and Aqua paved for her. Never mind that Aqua only wanted it in the end because she wanted it and Ai just wanted her kids to be happy

You can tell that Akasaka is patting himself on the back for making a cyclical narrative where Ruby becomes Ai 2.0 by being commodified, scrutinized, and idolized like Ai was

But it's such a flimsy parallel when it comes to the theme of lies because lying to hide your grief =/= "lies are love" which was the only way Ai knew how to frame her genuine desire to love

And Ai's "I love you" to her kids was true whereas Ruby has swallowed her own lie that being an idol is fun even when you're just doing it to outrun your pain

What this chapter showed us is that the meaning of Ruby's life is to be Ruby of B Komachi and she was put on Earth to sing pop songs. Because that's what Ai did, right? If I remember correctly, her final words were "I'm so glad I got to be an idol #blessed"

My God was the Dome concert soulless. Miyako and Ichigo crying happy tears is a punch to the gut. Doesn't Miyako know her daughter is still hurting?

The last scene is so fucking depressing

Ruby, are you okay? Blink twice if you still remember your life outside the idol industry!

The last two pages work really well as horror. She has a brilliant smile but you can tell that she's dead inside. She's got more merch on her table than photos. Why doesn't she have a corkboard of family photos? Although I more or less have this Ai plushie and it's pretty cute so I'll give this a pass because it's hilarious

I guess the takeaway here is to live for others and life is painful so just grin and bear it. Oh yeah, and inspire other young women to join an industry where they get to act happy and lose their humanity. Cool

I mean I get that it's supposed to be about moving on with your life even while grieving and that's a good message, sure, but Aka's insistence on using the word "lies" multiple times as if saying it makes it make sense ruins the whole thing

The most insane part is that this chapter is a wholehearted endorsement of the lies sold by the entertainment/idol industry

I haven't even said anything about anyone besides Ruby because what's the point? Aka didn't have time to do justice to any of the characters I grew to love

It's clear something went wrong with the timeline of wrapping up OnK. No artist wants to execute a final chapter like this. I'm convinced the film reel edges are Aka and Mengo's way of telling the reader, "we know this is a shitty clips show so don't @ us on Twitter about it"

But it's so much worse than that. Aka really decided to tear to shreds everything he worked so hard on for 4 years. Damn

This is my favorite manga and I'll always love that it gave me Ai, my most beloved character of all time, but this leaves an extremely bitter aftertaste. It's really hard to believe that the same person who wrote vol 1 wrote this.

OnK has been pretty important to me. Reading weekly, chatting with fans, and reaching dangerous levels of Ai brain rot has actually been a helpful distraction. TBH I've been a little too invested in it but sometimes you need escapism. So it's crazy that I'm kind of glad it's over.

But this is why fanfic, fanart, and your own headcanons exist. In another universe, this manga wrapped up beautifully and I was depressed for weeks because I couldn't look forward to it anymore. In this universe, at least we're all suffering together here at the end of all things.

And at least the little Hoshino family is still adorable. Too bad Ai is dead, Aqua is dead, and Ruby desperately needs grief counseling. But NEVER MIND. Look at Ai's smile and the twins' faces. This was the Oshi no Ko I really loved.

[leaawrites]

Crosswords In The Morning

Ryan Mcmahon x fem!reader

Summary: a slow morning with Ryan.

Warnings: fluff

Wordcount: 0.8k

Masterlist, Inhaler Masterlist

Her skin was burning. Flames scattered over her exposed skin as her eyes opened. Coming face to face with the man she fell asleep next to the night before.

Lifting her fingers up to his face, she gently brushed away the strands of hair messily falling into his eyes. Shuffling closer, she left a kiss on his bare shoulder. Traveling upwards over his collarbone, his neck, up to his ear.

Murmuring a soft, "Morning, love," as she laughed softly hearing him groan, still half asleep.

"You don't want to have me around, huh?" she asked, acting hurt.

Pulling away from him, she slipped away from under the covers quick enough to be far enough form his reach. Ryan's hand defeatedly falling back on the mattress as he mumbled, "Get back."

Laughing at his needy tone, she took a step backwards, edging out of the room.

"No, can't do. I've got a job to attend, you know?" she reminded him, making him groan again.

Walking into the kitchen, she started getting breakfast ready. While she was waiting for the coffee to be ready, two arms softly wrapped around her waist. Ryan's lips falling on her shoulder like it was part of his routine, his teeth gently edging into her skin before they were replaced by his lips once more.

"You still coming to the gig later?" He wanted to make sure she was there.

Having a time consuming job made it harder for both of them to spent as much time together as they wanted to, so every opportunity they had to support each other was extra meaningful.

"Yep, making sure I get out of the office early enough to still arrive before the show," she confirmed, humming as he began swaying the two of them to the song playing from the record player. "And wish you good luck."

"Haven't heard that from you for a long time," he said, taking both cups that stood in front of her before carrying them to their little dining table. Setting them down, he walked back over, picking up both their breakfasts and setting them down too. Sitting down, he waited for her to sit opposite him before he started eating.

They spent the rest of the morning in silence, both going through messages and texts, talking about what they were doing that day, showing each other funny stuff they found on the internet.

When they were both finished, she sat cross legged on her chair, crossword sat in front of her. Pen tapping against her lips as she thought about each question and each answer.

After putting the plates in the sink, Ryan walked over to her, sitting down next to her and leaning his elbow on the table and his head in his palm to get a closer look to what she's struggling with.

"That's 'Avian'." He points out to one of the boxes on the paper. 'What are birds also referred to as?' it reads. "I swear, Bobby never shuts up about those damn things."

"Let that man have his fun," she chuckled, rolling her eyes and swatting his arm. Still she noted down each letter, clean and readable. "You're such a party popper."

"Says the woman who threw up when I tried to kiss her the first time," he recalled the memory, earning a wide eyed gaze from her with her mouth wide open in shock that h brought that up again.

"We agreed to never talk about that again," she reminded him. Genuinely taken back that he mentioned it. "I was absolutely plastered, alright? Not my fault that you guys have so much alcohol at your parties."

"We were nine-teen! Let us have our fun," he tried defending himself. Taking her hands in his as she tried writing down another word.

Forcing her to turn to him, he was looking into her eyes. Recalling every time they said forever to each other.

"What do you say about a trip?" he asked out of the blue.

Her eyebrows furrowed, not quite understanding his meaning and question. "What?"

"After the tour's over, you can take some days off and we'll just go somewhere, only us. What do you say?" His voice always carried a sort of excitement for everything in life, but now, explaining his thoughts to her, he had never sound happier.

Especially when she answered, "Yes. I desperately need to get away from this scenery for a bit."

Pulling her closer, he left a quick kiss on her lips. Already knowing er next words as her eyes slipped over to the clock.

"I need to go," she said, smiling apologetically as his fingers rubbed circles over the back of her hand.

With one last kiss goodbye, she slipped out of the door completely. Leaving him to his own devices. Until night would dawn and he had her back in his arms just before going on stage and right after it.

[paramountinplace]

Stick to the DVDs - Little!Van

Summary: A documentary causes some issues for Van (and eventually Mel) during a quiet day in with Taissa. Realized when I got done with this that I wrote it from Tai's pov and not Van's like I meant to...

"Tai?"

Taissa startles, hand flying up to her chest as she fumbles with her book, trying not to lose her place. Mel winces, standing in front of her and chewing on her lip as she watches timidly.

"Sorry, Mel," she breathes, giving the younger girl a gentle smile. "I must've gotten really into my book. What's up?"

"Have you seen Van?"

She's opening her mouth to respond when she realizes she actually hasn't seen Van since that morning at breakfast. It's been a quiet day so far with most of the girls on a trip to the zoo that Jackie had been begging for since her birthday. The previous night was rough for Mel, fraught with nightmares and bouts of tears that calmed only with Van's steady presence at her side as she tried to get back to sleep. Tai had been the one to made the executive decision to keep Mel home from the zoo trip, especially after the overtired blonde had burst into tears over picking between a green frog shirt and a blue one.

Van had politely opted to stay behind with them and Tai suspected she was secretly relieved for the excuse not to go. She knew the redhead had been more than a little hesitant about wandering around looking at large, toothy animals for a whole day.

With only a few people in the house, Tai had taken the chance to relax with a book she kept starting and abandoning before she got halfway through. She'd picked it up right after breakfast and hadn't put it down since.

"No, actually," she replies, marking her page and putting the book down. Mel's brow furrows and Tai's chest tightens. "You haven't seen her either?"

"I can't find her," Mel admits. "I looked everywhere."

Tai lets out a long exhale, closing her eyes for a long moment as she gathers her wits. She tries to remember if they're coming up on any tough anniversaries or if someone had accidentally said something at breakfast, but she can't put her finger on anything that might've caused Van to hide.

"Okay, kiddo. It's alright. She probably just got distracted looking at those neat Star Wars tapes in the basement again. I'll go take a look, hm?"

"Wan' come," the blonde says immediately.

Tai hesitates. On one hand, she doesn't want to leave Mel alone for too long, especially not with the girl as anxious as she is. On the other, Van disappearing for long stretches of time usually means something has set her off, and Tai knows the redhead struggles with letting others see her when she's upset.

"How about I set you up with a movie for now and I'll come check on you in a bit?"

Mel's lip quivers a little, but she nods slowly, sensing the seriousness in Tai's tone.

"'Kay."

"Thanks, bud." Tai isn't quite able to keep her relief at the kid's cooperation out of her tone, and she gives Mel a quick squeeze as she guides her to the couch. She flips on Mel's favorite show as of late and smooths a few escaped strands of flaxen hair back from her face. "Back in a jiff."

She hurries out of the room, about to make a beeline for the basement when she catches a flash of red out of the corner of her eye. Slowing down, she pivots to make her way down the hallway to the study. Relief floods her at the sight of Van seated at one of the few desks crammed into the room, back to the door. It isn't especially surprising that Mel hadn't been able to find Van in the study; the girls were usually discouraged from going into the study when they were younger, so she probably hadn't even thought to look.

Tai takes a few steps into the room, a joke on the tip of her tongue about the glasses Van usually wears when she does paperwork or reads. The quip dies before it leaves her mouth as Tai realizes that Van, while bent over a pile of paperwork with a pen in one hand, has the tip of her other thumb slipped between her lips, a telltale pointer finger hooked over her nose to keep it there.

Ah.

Tai tries to keep her retreat from the room as quiet as possible, backing down the hallway a ways before heading back towards the study, taking care to bring her feet down on the floorboards a little heavier than normal.

Van is already looking up at the door by the time she reaches it again, hands folded together in her lap as she blinks owlishly up at Taissa.

"Hey," she murmurs, leaning against the doorframe. It takes Van a few moments to reply, face scrunching up adorably as she does.

"Hi." Short and sweet, making Tai smile fondly.

"Watcha up to?"

Van turns back to the desk, fluttering a hand vaguely over the papers. She squints at them for a long moment, mouth working as she gnaws at the inside of her mouth. It takes everything Tai has not to chide her for it, because it's a habit they've been trying to break for months.

"Um..." Van starts, trailing off almost immediately as she turns back to Tai, face twisting again as she tries to remember. She shrinks a little under Tai's expectant gaze, sticking the very tip of her thumb back into her mouth.

"That's okay, baby," Tai says gently. She sees Van's nose twitch at the nickname, but the lack of any retaliatory complaint makes her think her hunch about Van feeling smaller than usual might be right. "Mel and I were about to put on a movie. You wanna join us?"

The Taissa Turner order of operations is always to get Van feeling calm and safe first, before trying to figure out any big feelings. Starting with the feelings is generally a one-way ticket to tantrum-town, which in Van's case involves anything from running away and hiding to pretending not to be feeling small anymore.

Van hesitates again, looking a little teary, and Tai uses the pause to take a few steps closer, opening her arms slightly as she approaches. The reaction is instantaneous—she finds herself with an armful of a tense-shouldered kiddo before she's even reached the desk.

"Hey," she coos, pressing a quick kiss to Van's hair. She can feel Van melting against her and starts swaying on the spot, just slightly. "What's goin' on, bud?"

She's breaking her own rules for her order of operations, but she's pretty confident Van won't pull away at this point. Not with her nose tucked into the crook of Taissa's neck and the way she's lifted herself up on her tiptoes to rest her head on her shoulder.

As expected, Van doesn't give her much of an answer beyond pressing a little closer with a sniffle. She doesn't even protest when Tai puts her on her hip for the quick journey back to the sitting room, where Mel's curled into the couch and staring intently at the television. The little blonde perks up when she sees them enter, about to leap to her feet, but one warning look from Tai keeps her glued to the cushions.

"What's wrong?" Mel asks worriedly, clutching her moose teddy a little closer as Tai eases them down onto the couch.

"Oh, nothing's wrong," Tai hums, giving Van a little bounce in her lap. She knows better than to believe her own words, but Mel doesn't need to be worrying about Van right now. The idea of having two upset kiddos who are prone to being flight-risks with no backup for the afternoon makes Tai exhausted to think about.

Mel, ever attuned to others' feelings, bites her lip and nods. She settles back against the couch, but Tai can feel her gaze flicking over to them every so often. Van doesn't acknowledge Mel, keeping her face tucked against Taissa's shoulder and taking in short, uneven breaths that usually tend to mean I'm about to sob.

"Mel, you want a snack?" Tai asks, already rising to her feet again. Van's hands scrabble at her back, grabbing fistfuls of her hoodie as they move. Mel nods slowly, confused, but Tai doesn't waste another moment in getting to the kitchen.

The second the door swings shut behind them, Van breaks. A sob wrenches its way out of her mouth, one hand flying up to muffle the next one. Like Natalie, Van is usually a quiet crier, but today, she's choking on the sound of her own tears before Taissa has even fully registered what's happening.

"Oh, baby," she intones, pulling Van closer. The redhead's face is hot where it presses up against her neck, sticky with tears already. "I've got you, shh."

Van cries herself out pretty quickly, body shuddering as she tries to stop the flow. Sniffling sadly, she goes limp against Tai's front again, and the taller girl sits her down on the worktop so they can be eye-to-eye. Van ducks her gaze, fists rubbing plaintively at her eyes.

"Did something happen, sweet girl?" Tai tries, smoothing her thumbs over the tops of Van's knees.

Van shrugs, running her thumb over her lips repetitively.

"Something today? Did someone say something?"

Another shrug. Tai nods to herself, tipping her forehead down to rest against Van's.

"Alright, kiddo," she murmurs. "We can figure it out later, hm?"

A few long moments pass quietly before the relative calm is interrupted by a muffled yelp from the other room. Biting back an expletive, Taissa grabs Van with a grunt and hurries back to the sitting room. Mel is standing with the remote outstretched, frozen and wide-eyed as she stares at the television in horror.

"What the—" Tai cuts herself off as she sets Van on the couch and turns to face the screen, understanding dawning on her as she sees what's playing.

One of the more startling aspects of their return had been discovering just how many people had been invested in the story of The Yellowjackets. Seeing their faces plastered across every tabloid lining the magazine shelves at the shops had been mildly horrifying and all news channels had been put strictly off limits for the foreseeable future.

Evidently, this rule hadn't been able to stop Mel from accidentally coming across a documentary as she flipped through the channels looking for a new show. Tai feels sluggish as she watched her own face pop up on screen, smiling in her soccer kit between a beaming Van and smirking Jackie.

A cry breaks free from Mel's mouth and she lunges forward, grabbing the remote and mashing the off button.

"Okay, that's enough of that," she mutters, pulling Mel into her side as she turns back to look at Van. The look on the redhead's face is enough for her to put the pieces together. Van had been obsessed with a documentary series about Amazonian bugs recently and had been watching each new episode as it came out. Unfortunately, the channel the docuseries ran on also played full-length documentaries.

"Was tryin' to find the green robot," Mel sniffles.

"It's okay, bud, I know you didn't mean to," Tai soothes, pulling her onto the couch as she sits back down next to Van, who immediately wriggles under her arm. "Did you catch that one by accident this morning, baby?"

Van nods, reaching up to fiddle with Tai's hoodie strings. The movement draws Mel's attention, who slowly comes to rest against Tai's other shoulder as she watches Van toy with the strings.

"Maybe we stick to DVDs for a while," Tai murmurs to herself as she runs a hand up and down each of the girl's backs.

She manages to get them both to doze off after a while, unmoving even as both of her arms go numb from the weight of their bodies. As she hears the cars pulling back into the drive, the others returning from their zoo trip, she reaches out with a foot and knocks the remote under the couch.

She'll deal with that later.

[parkerluvsu]

Could u write some Patrick angst where you guys are in a solid relationship but Patrick tries to breakup w reader bc he’s never been in a genuine relationship so his own insecurities take over? Happy ending tho if possible🥹

yes i can <333 sorry this is long and it kind of takes a while to get to the point i hope you like it anyway 😭

- as long as you've known patrick he's been known as a "playboy", previous room mates attesting to the fact that a new girl was leaving his room every night. patrick didn't know what he was looking for, there were no common links between his flings and he didn't care, he would buy them a drink and nod at their stories before he invited them back to his room, sending them on their way once he got what he wanted.

- you met patrick through a mutual friend in college, you didn't see too much of him because he was always late to class or never even showed up. of course, his grades started to slip and his parents noticed, immediately looking for a tutor for him and settling on you, since you were "friends". as it turns out it's pretty hard to contact someone who doesn't even have contact names for people, just " brunette from bar" and "chick from biology". you finally got a hold of him and told him the arrangement, he didn't like it (to be expected) but his parents threatened to not support his dreams of becoming a tennis star if he didn't get good grades, so he settled.

- outside of his frequent escapades, patrick was a nice person, he actually did listen and ask questions the whole time you were explaining problems to him. once he actually get to know you a little bit (simple things like how you always complain about being thirsty but never bring a drink, or only use pens and never pencils, not caring if it's more trouble when you make a mistake), he respects you and your time more and doesn't skip lessons as much and actually does his homework.

- once you become friends on a bit of a deeper level, not just tutor and student, he talks to you about tennis, eventually inviting you to come watch him play. usually he's playing doubles with art, but you personally prefer the days when he's playing solo, you really get to focus on his talent and passion for the game that way. and patrick comes to look forward to seeing you in the stands at his games, art makes fun of him and pushes his shoulder whenever patrick gets distracted. he notices a weird feeling in his stomach when he does find a moment to look at you, smiling at how you're biting your nails and leaning forward on your seat.

- that night, patrick invites you to come to his victory party, he reasons that you helped him archive this victory by bringing peace to his academic life so of course you should come. you spend the night sipping on a drink in the corner of the room, given you only knew patrick and art, who were surrounded by admiring friends and family. just when you were picking up your coat and keys to leave, patrick was able to escape his fans and come over to you, his brows furrowing as he sees you're about to leave. "what do you think you're doing?" he asks, "you haven't even said hi tonight", if you were looking closer it would almost seem like he's pouting. you explains that you're tired, you don't really know anyone and honestly you'd rather just be in bed. "well lemme walk you to your car then yeah?", he helps you to put your coat on, ushering you out the door into the quiet street, ignoring your argument that it's really not necessary, fighting back with "a pretty girl like you shouldn't be walking alone late at night" and that shuts you up as you walk next to patrick, neither of you saying anything. it's a comfortable silence though, and you think back on your time with patrick and realize you've never really felt uncomfortable with him.

- once you get to your car safely you lean against your car to continue talking to him, thanking him thoroughly for walking you to your car, even though he had to leave his own party. maybe it was the glasses of champagne you had at the party or the way his skin glowed in the moonlight but you leaned in and kissed his cheek as an act of thanks. as you opened your car door to leave patrick did something he's never done to a girl, he made the first move, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. he didn't know what it meant for your relationship but he didn't care in the moment, all he knew was how soft your lips felt against his. when he pulled away it was clear you were both quite awkward, so he gets you into your car and told you he'd text you the next day. and another first, he actually did text you the next day.

- from then on your relationship blossomed, for how experienced patrick was, he wasn't experienced in the more romantic aspects of a relationship, but just like you taught him chemical symbols and equations, you taught him how to have an actual healthy relationship. but still, patrick feels like he should know all these things already, you shouldn't have to ask for flowers or ask to go on a romantic date, you should be with someone who knows how to treat you right. about 4 months into your relationship he couldn't stop himself from thinking this way, knocking on your door right after practice and praying you'd answer. when you do, he makes you sit down on your bed and explains the whole ordeal, ending it with "you deserve someone better than me, that can treat you better.. we have to break up". you're immediately confused, the reason that he wants to break up is so stupid you feel like you need to slap him. you don't, of course but you certainly give him a firm talking to, reminding him of all the things you love about him and he feels like crying, his head falling into your lap as he holds your hand. he'd never imagined being in a relationship like this, and he promises to make you feel as lucky as you make him feel everyday <33