#i just want. to be fully staffed again.

[humphreybogie]

How many more lunch breaks can I spend just sitting in my car, shell shocked and staring at nothing like I just survived harsh battle?

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐭 𝟑

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: SEUNGMIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: MENTION OF NIGHTMARES, THERAPY MENTIONS, TRAUMA MENTIONS, FOOD MENTIONS, MENTION OF LOVE-BOMBING, MENTION KIDNAPPING, TEASING, ABORTION MENTION, PROTECTED SEX, ORAL (F. REC), FINGERING, SCAR MENTIONS, DIRTY TALK, EXHIBITIONISM (?) ☾ ━━━ WC: 4.1K ☾ ━━━ PART ONE PART TWO ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Y/n hated the nightmares. She hated that her mind kept replaying what happened with her psycho ex or making it worse. Making up scenarios of what would've happened if she hadn’t sent the text message. 

     She’d awake after another nightmare. Chest filled with anxiety as she tried remembering where she was. Home. Home with Chan and Changbin down the hall. Her rooms before hers. If anything were to happen, they would hear it first. 

     She laid back and took some deep breaths. Recollecting herself and her thoughts. She turned in bed, holding her blankets close to her. Attempting to try and sleep again but nothing. Staring into the dark seemed to make it worse. 

     Y/n grabbed her phone from the bedside table and dialed the only person who could understand what she was going through. 

     “Hey,” Seungmin’s voice came through the speaker 

     “Hey,” Y/n replied 

     “Have another nightmare?”

     Since they both had talked about the situation, they’d been helping each other. Late-night calls when neither of them could sleep were common. Just two friends that were trying to heal together. No matter how weird that word sounds when it comes to Seungmin. 

     “Yeah. Why are you awake?”

     “Can’t sleep either.”

     Y/n hummed, “How was your appointment today?”

     “Alright. My ribs are pretty much healed now which is great. The doctor still wants me to wait a few weeks before I do anything strenuous or return to work.”

     “Have you talked to your old job?”

     “Yeah. Unfortunately, they’re fully staffed but there’s another office hiring that’s actually a little closer so I need to just reinterview there. They let the manager know my situation but it’s basically mine.”

     “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

     “Thanks. I’m just getting a little stir-crazy at Minho’s now.”

     “Mm. I feel the same. One of the guys is always here so I’m not alone which is nice but they’re starting to suffocate me.”

     “You’re like their little sister. They’re just worried. But I can get where it gets annoying. Do you work tomorrow?”

     “No. Off for the next two days. Just have therapy in the morning.”

     “What time?”

     “Ten.”

     “Do you wanna go get brunch after? I can pick you up and take you too.” 

     “I’d like that,” Y/n smiled, even though he couldn’t see her.

     “You’re smiling, aren’t you.”

     “No, I’m not.”

     “You forget we were dating for three years.”

     “I didn’t forget.”

     “So you know I know when you’re smiling or what to do when you’re sad and need cheering up.”

     “You’re too observant sometimes.” 

     “Sometimes not enough.”

     “Stop it.”

     “What?”

     “Blaming yourself.”

     “Sorry. I was thinking about it earlier again.”

     “I don’t blame you, Min. You know that, right?”

     “Yeah. Just kind of blame myself a bit still…”

     “I know how you feel…”

     “Can I be honest with you?”

     “Of course.”

     “When he first had me locked up, I kept hoping you would reach out to me. Get worried about me not responding. Then the security footage started. And it broke my heart but I still hoped that you would still choose me…”

     “Min…”

     “Sorry. I didn’t mean to unload that…”

     “You know, when I met him, I was trying to forget about our break up. I wasn’t looking for a new relationship but he was so convincing and I know now he was just love-bombing me the whole time. I was heartbroken after our breakup because I only ever saw you as who I would spend the rest of my life with.”

     “What would you say if I asked for another chance?”

     “It’s always yes, Min.”

     “I’ll keep that in mind”

     The two talked until they somehow both ended up falling asleep. She woke up a few hours later with the call still running. Both got a bit of peace for once in their dreams. 

     Seungmin told her he’d pick her up for her appointment and left the call to get ready. Y/n let her roommates know Seungmin was picking her up and the two were going to brunch after. Chan and Changbin both smiled and said nothing Letting her get ready for her day.

     Seungmin was at the door not long after she finished getting ready. She let the two know she was leaving. Seungmin was standing out the door and smiled at her. She swore she saw him rethinking leaning in to kiss her like he used to greet her.

     “Ready?” He asked her.

     “Yeah.”

     The two walked back to the car and Seungmin opened the door for her before he walked to the other side and got in the car. She gave him directions to her therapist’s office while they discussed their plans for after. Walking up together once they got in. 

     “I’ll wait for you in the waiting room, okay?” Seungmin said once she was called into the office

     “Okay,” Y/n nodded. 

     Y/n walked back into the office, sat down, and started her session. Telling her therapist about the nightmares. Talking through them and mentioning Seungmin. 

     “Seungmin is your ex, correct?”

     “Yeah. He got kidnapped by Jeongin.”

     “So both of you have gone through the same trauma in a sense?”

     “Yeah. We’ve both talked to each other about what we went through separately.”

     “Sometimes it does help to talk with someone who has gone through something similar.”

     The session only lasted another fifteen minutes before Y/n walked out of the office. Seungmin was sitting in the waiting room waiting for her, just like he said. 

     “Ready?” He asked as she walked over to him.

     “Yeah,” Y/n smiled 

     Seungmin stood and led her back to the car. Getting her in the car before him then driving off to a small restaurant. It wasn’t too busy at the moment and they quickly got seated. 

     Y/n really did miss Seungmin. In the quiet moments when she wasn’t being suffocated by Jeongin, she’d think about him. She was grateful Jeongin kept him alive. Even if it was painful for Seungmin. 

     “What are you looking at?” Seungmin asked 

     “Sorry,” Y/n said and looked down at her menu. 

     “What is it?” Seungmin asked again. 

     “It’s nothing. Just…”

     “Just what?”

     “I’m glad he kept you alive,” Y/n said, looking up at him again 

     “I hate you sometimes,” Seungmin groaned 

     “Sorry….”

     “No. Not for that,” Seungmin quickly said. Reaching over the table to her and grabbing the menu from her hands, “I… I hate that you still get me flustered. And I know I’m bad at expressing my emotions and I don’t want to overwhelm you by saying what I actually want to say.”

    “Didn’t you ask me for a second chance last night?” Y/n smiled, knowing what he was trying to say.

     “I was sleep deprived,” Seungmin glared at her

     “Whatever you say.”

     Y/n smiled at him and kissed his knuckles before dropping his hands. The waiter came over a few minutes later and took their order. Leaving them alone after. 

     “You make it hard to kiss you right now,” Seungmin said as soon as the waiter was gone 

     “I haven’t done anything!” Y/n defended herself, her face getting warmer

     Seungmin just smiled and reached across the table for her hands again. Raising them to his lips and kissing each of her knuckles. Taking a little longer on her left ring finger before setting her hands back on the table. Y/n looked at him as he smiled.

     He teased her a little more throughout their brunch. Making her flustered just for her to fluster him back. Even their walk back to the car and the drive back to hers was a game for them. Up until he walked her up to the door.

     “Thank you for today, by the way,” Y/n said as she turned to him

     “Anytime,” Seungmin smiled

     Y/n didn’t make any move to leave. Neither did Seungmin. 

     “Can I kiss you?” 

     “I’ll be a little mad if you don’t.”

     Seungmin leaned in and pecked her lips. Quick but enough for them. 

     “I’m glad we’re alive,” Seungmin said 

     “Me too.”

     “You know you two can have this conversation in Y/n’s room.” Changbin’s voice came from the video doorbell 

     Y/n unlocked the front door and opened it, “Seo Changbin!”

     “I’m just saying!” He called from the living room

     Y/n stormed in and grabbed a throw pillow. Attacking her friend with it as Seungmin followed her in, shutting the door behind him as he watched. Eventually, Changbin got the pillow away from her and got her off him. 

     “Finally beat Changbin,” Seungmin laughed 

     “You two are on thin ice,” Changbin warned 

     The two laughed before going up to Y/n’s room. “Looks different,” Seungmin said 

     “I got rid of all my old stuff. Decided to just start fresh. Couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at everything again after what happened,” Y/n replied as she hung up her bag

     “I don’t blame you,” Seungmin said, taking a seat in her desk chair. “Should we talk about us?”

     “I think we should just forget the last two years,” Y/n joked 

     “Seems like a good idea,” Seungmin replied as she sat on her bed. He scooted the chair over to her. “How about we take it slow? Slowly get back to where we were while we’re still healing a bit?”

     “I like that idea.”

     “Okay.” Seungmin leaned in and kissed her lips again.

     Normalcy. That’s what Seungmin was to her. Her little bit of normalcy in the middle of the chaos around her. Even though they agreed to go slow, a little over a month later they were back to where they were before. Sitting on the couch at Minho’s having a movie night while he was out with Jisung. Seungmin had his arm wrapped around her as she fed him popcorn. A rom-com Netflix recommended playing on the TV. 

     “Getting tired?” Seungmin asked, noticing her movements slowing down a bit

     “No,” Y/n lied. She’d had a presentation over Zoom before coming over and she spent the night before making sure it was perfect.

     “Liar,” Seungmin chuckled as he took the popcorn bowl from her and turned off the TV. “Come on.”

     Seungmin helped her up off the couch and got her to his room. Y/n followed behind him groggily. He pulled back the covers for her and helped her into the bed.

     “Sleep with me?” Y/n asked as he went to pull them up over her body

     “You sure?”

     Y/n nodded, “Let me lock up the house real quick and text Minho.” Seungmin kissed the top of her head and walked out of the room. 

     He came back a few moments later with both their phones— she assumed he was texting Minho on his about the house being locked up when he came in for the night. He set both their phones on the nightstand, and then Seungmin climbed into bed with her. Covering them both with the blankets and loosely laying his arm over her waist.

     Y/n turned in his arms and put her face in his chest. “I knew you were tired.” he laughed

     “Mm.” Y/n huffed as he kissed her head again.

     “I love you.”

     “I love you too.” Y/n drifted off into sleep and it was probably the best sleep she’d gotten in a while. For once, no nightmares haunted her. She felt safe again.

     She woke up the next morning still in Seungmin’s arms. He was still fast asleep so she got to take the chance to admire her boyfriend up close for once. She remembered when he was released from the hospital he had the worst dark circles and multiple bruises on his face. They’d all healed and the dark circles were slowly going away.

     “Why are you staring?” Seungmin’s voice said

     Y/n smiled as he opened his eyes to her, “Because I can.”

     “Mhm,” Seungmin groaned as he leaned in and kissed her lips, “Stop it.”

     “No,” Y/n said

     “Brat,” Seungmin smiled before leaning back to lips. Kissing her again as his hand lay on the middle of her back. Y/n moaned into his mouth before both of their phones started ringing. Seungmin pulled away and sat up, grabbing her phone and answering the call, seeing it was from her lawyer, and looked at his, seeing the same.

     “Good morning Ms. L/n.” Y/n heard from the other end     “Good morning,” Y/n replied

     “I’m sorry if I woke you, but would you mind hopping on a conference call with Mr. Kim and his lawyer?” 

     “No, I’m actually with Mr. Kim right now.”

     “Oh, perfect! How about we end this call and you listen in on his phone?”

     “That works perfectly.”

     Y/n hung up the call and Seungmin placed his phone on speaker.

     “We’ll keep this short so you two can finally put this behind us and move on with your lives.”  Seungmin’s lawyer said

     “Mr. Yang has taken the plea deal.”     “He did?!” Y/n said

     “Yes. In pleading guilty to two counts of kidnapping, one of aggravated assault, and sexual assault, he is serving life in prison without the possibility of parole. He will not be getting out of prison.”

     “Thank you. That means a lot to us.” Seungmin said as he hugged his girlfriend from the side.

     “Of course. And the judge has granted you both restraining orders against him so he is legally not allowed to contact either of you.”

     Y/n thanked the team of lawyers over and over again before Seungmin ended the call and turned to her. Kissing her again as she cupped his cheeks. “He’s out of our lives.” Y/n cried

     “He’s locked up now,” Seungmin smiled and whipped her tears.

     Y/n giggled as he kissed her nose before he got out of bed. Y/n watched him walk over to his closet and grab something, sitting back next to her.

     “To a new beginning, I guess,” Seungmin said, handing her a black velvet box.

     Y/n looked at him as she hesitantly took it. Seungmin smiled as she opened it and caught sight of the engagement ring. “Min.”

     “I say we forget those two years now and just pick up where we left off now,” Seungmin smiled wide as he took the ring out of its box.

     “Yes,” Y/n smiled 

     Seungmin grabbed her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. Y/n squealed and tackled him in a hug onto his back. The sound prompted a knock on the door from Minho and Jisung.

     “You guys okay?” Minho asked as he opened the door.

     “Couldn’t be better.” Seungmin smiled 

     “He took the plea deal. He’s behind bars for the rest of his life,” Y/n explained

     “Thank god. I don’t know what I would do if you guys had to sit in a courtroom with him.” Jisung sighed in relief

     “Yeah. I don’t want to see a courtroom until wedding day.” Seungmin said

     “Wedding?!” Jisung yelled

     “Look!” Y/n smiled, showing the two the engagement ring.

     “Have fun celebrating,” Minho said as he shut the door.

     Y/n smiled at her fiancé and pressed her lips to his again. Pecking kisses all over his face as he laughed at her. “Hey,” Seungmin chuckled before her lips were on his again

     “I love you,” Y/n mumbled against his lips

     “I love you too,” Seungmin mumbled back and wrapped his arms around her.

     Seungmin rolled her onto her back so he was on top of her, pulling back to look at his fiancée, “You okay?” He asked

     “Why wouldn’t I be?”

     “We haven’t done anything since we both got out and I know you had the abortion. I know it all took an emotional toll on you.”

     “And having you by my side helped me heal,” Y/n reassured him. “I know you’re not him either. I trust you, Min.”

     “Let me check if I even have condoms.” Seungmin got off her and checked his bedside drawers.

     Y/n got up and sat on the edge of the bed just as he found a box and set it on the nightstand. “Feeling lucky?” Y/n teased

     “When have you ever known me not to prepare for something?”

     “Do you want me to answer that?” Y/n teased as he laid her back, his turn to smother her with kisses. 

     “Those two years don’t exist, remember?” he reminded her 

     Seungmin pressed his lips to hers. Grabbing her hands and lacing their fingers together. Laying them against the mattress and pressing his body to hers. Y/n smiled as her lips moved in sync with his. 

     Seungmin moved one hand to hold her side as she hooked her legs around his hips. Pulling his hips closer to her, feeling his half-hard dick against her. 

     “Tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable,” Seungmin breathed as his lips moved down to her neck

     “You’re too good for me,” Y/n giggled

     “I’m perfect for you.” 

     Y/n blushed as he moved his hands up her shirt. Warm skin holding her sides and not going up anymore, not sure if he should as he lightly kissed her neck. Y/n grabbed the back of his shirt as his lips ghosted a certain spot on her neck.

     “There’s my favorite spot,” Seungmin mumbled as he rolled his hips against her.

     “Min,” Y/n moaned

     “I’m right here. Never going anywhere again.” He told her

     “Need you, Min, please,” Y/n moaned

     “Tell me what you want pretty.”

     “Mouth.”

     “Where do you want my mouth, love?”

     “Eat me out, please.”

     Seungmin pulled away from her and stood up. He pulled down her pajama pants, checking over her reaction as he did before he kneeled between her legs. The fabric on the floor next to him. Y/n sat up a bit on her elbows, looking down at him as he put her legs over his shoulders. He placed a kiss over her clothed clit as he looked up at her. Y/n smiled at him as his fingers curled over the waistband of the fabric and pulled it away. Adding it to the starting pile on the ground of clothes. Y/n grabbed a pillow from the bed and placed it behind her back for support as his lips wrapped around her clit.

     Y/n laced her fingers through his hair as he lightly sucked on the bud. A moan left her lips as he wrapped his arms around her thighs. Holding them tightly around his head as he switched between sucking on the clit and licking with his tongue. Eyes locked onto her, watching her reactions. 

     Watching her head roll back from the pleasure as she gripped his hair. Y/n moaned as he pressed a kiss to her clit, tongue moving through her folds. Head knocked forward to watch him as his tongue dipped into her. 

     “Min,” Y/n moaned as he moved his hand down. Lips wrapped around her clit again as a finger slid into her. 

     Y/n laid back against the mattress as she tightened her grip on his head. Seungmin smiled as he worked on her clit. Finger slowly moving in and out of her. “More. Please min!” Y/n begged 

     “My baby needs another finger in her?” Seungmin teased 

     “Yes. Please,” Y/n moaned 

     Seungmin gently slipped a second finger into her. Fingers stretched her out as he sucked a little harder on her clit. Hips jolted against him as he pushed his face closer. Moaning into her— he missed being here.

     Her moans were unfortunately muffled to him with her thigh pressing against his ears. But he would gladly live with that to be where he is now. His fingers spreading her open as she gripped his hair. Barley hearing her warning that she was close or his name falling from her lips like a mantra.

     He felt her high coat his fingers as Y/n arched off the bed. Seungmin switched his fingers for his tongue. Cleaning her up with his tongue as he wrapped his arms around her legs. Smothering himself into her while she rode out her high. Only pulling away when he felt her push him away from the sensitivity.

     “Alright still?” He asked, kissing the inside of her thighs before standing up.

     “Yeah,” Y/n breathed as he pecked her lips then cheeks

     “We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.”

     “Do you want to keep going?” Y/n asked, snaking her hands under his shirt

     “I do but just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

     “Seungmin, if you’re dick isn’t in me soon I’m going to combust.”

     Seungmin laughed at her and pulled his shirt off over his head. Both of them stripping away the last bit of their clothing. Y/n noticed the healed scars littering his skin as he turned and grabbed a condom. She caught his attention when she ran her hands over the scars.

     “You look sexy with the scars,” Y/n said as she looked up at him

     “I wasn’t sexy before?” Seungmin asked as he tore open the foil and rolled the rubber onto his length

     “You were. The scars just add a little more to it,” Y/n smiled as he leaned down.

     “Glad you think so,” Seungmin smiled, lining his tip up with her entrance. Slowly, he pushed inside her. Y/n wrapped her legs around his hips. Seungmin grabbed her hands and kissed her engagement rings. Slowly sinking into her as he kissed down her arm to distract her. Ending up over her again and pressing his lips to hers. Y/n wrapped her arms around him, smiling into the kiss as he pulled his hips back. Gently rocking into her.

     “Fuck, I missed this,” Seungmin groaned

     “Good thing we’ve got forever now,” Y/n moaned, lacing her fingers through his dark hair.

     “Not letting go of you ever again.”

     Gradually, Seungmin picked up his pace. Mostly when she would beg him to go faster. Her walls slightly pulsing around him from her previous orgasm. His lips trailed down from her lips to her chest. Kissing the top of her breasts as his hips gently knocked into hers.

     Her limbs tightened around him as his tip hit a specific spot inside her. A gasp leaving her and Seungmin knew. She felt his smiled against her skin as he brought a hand between their bodies. Thumb rolling along her clit as a loud moan escaped her. He angled his hips to hit that spot again and again. Y/n tried covering her moans, suddenly remember there were two other people in the house.

     “Let them hear baby. Not like they don’t already know,” Seungmin teased, “Let our friends know only I get to fuck you like this for the rest of our lives.”

     “‘M close,” Y/n moaned

     “Just needed a little dirty talk to get you there? Huh?” Seungmin asked

     “Please Minnie.”

     “Missed teasing you. Always riled up to quickly when I did. Obviously you still do too.” Seungmin nipped at her skin as her legs shook around him as her walls got tighter around him, “Gonna cum for me baby?”

     “Yes!” Y/n cried just before her orgasm came crashing down.

     Seungmin kept his pace as she rode out her high. Waiting for her limps to loosen arond him and her body go limp against the bed just a bit before he came in the condom. Slowing his thrusts till he was full inside her and let the rubber fill while he came down.

     Both of them taking a minute to catch their breaths again. Seungmin wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his head in her neck for a moment. “I love you. So much.” Seungmin mumbled

     “I love you too,” Y/n kissed the side of his head as she held him close.

     “Bath?” Seungmin asked

     “Yes please,” Y/n agreed

     Seungmin stood straight and pulled out of her. He took of the rubber and made she it didn’t break before tying it off and tossing it. He gave her a t-shirt as he threw on a pair of boxers before bringing her to the bathroom. He ran them a bath and let her do her little thing while he grabbed more clothes for them. Y/n took care of the bath till he came back in and took over. Pulling her in with him once it was ready. Seungmin wrapped his arms around her as the  warm water surrounded them.

     “I know I just proposed but, what do you think about moving in together?” Seungmin asked

     “I think that’s a great idea,” Y/n smiled and kissed his arms

     “Start looking after a nap?” He asked

     “You read my mind.”

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[y-rhywbeth2]

Karlach and Durge's relationship has fun elements that I, for some reason, started thinking on this morning.

Aside from some similarities (the offspring/descendent of powerful beings of the lower planes, whose kind are brought into existence as pawns/displays of power; were given basically no choice about serving their evil relative; who are/were made into living weapons; and the homicidal rages they need to keep under control (and as Zariel is known for her seething homicidal rage, Karlach could actually have inherited it the way Durge gets it from Bhaal))

There's that delightful 'I can fix them' mentality Karlach is bringing to the relationship. Always a good sign. We learned nothing from the Gortash shenanigans.

She talks about getting Durge psychiatric help when they get the city and, while that's a nice sentiment (and I assume she's actually talking about clerical healing at a fully staffed temple or something), I do remember what Faerûn's 'asylums' ('howling keeps') are like, and being locked up in a cell forever (at best) does not strike me as a good time. I just picture Durge hearing that, thinking of how people handle the dangerously 'crazed-witted' and getting ready to bolt. No nope nope no.

Speaking of Gortash: assuming Durge's handwriting hasn't been fundamentally altered by the TBI, they're going to recognise themselves praising the evil genius that is the guy who sold their new friend/lover to slavery in Hell and then have to look Karlach in the eye.

Then there's issue that is Gortash and Durge vs Durge and Karlach vs Gortash and Karlach's relationships. Even though Gortash is projecting and doesn't think there is an issue. 'That was literally a month-to-a-decade ago, why are you mad?' And I'm pasting that conversation, because I like looking at it.

Karlach: 'I don't give a shit about your agreement.' Lord Enver Gortash: 'Then why in the Nine Hells have you come back here, Karlach? What could you possibly want?!' Karlach: 'How about an apology for sending me to the Hells?' Lord Enver Gortash: 'Sorry?! You want me to be sorry for helping you gain more power than you've ever known? That thing in your chest is a blessing I helped you receive. One you're too much of a fool to see. I gave you a clean slate. A chance to rejoin me for our mutual benefit - again.'

(What a guy. God, I want to cut his skull open with a spoon and stare at the contents.)

Durge, of course can start swooning over how brilliant the durgetash alliance is, or, not unreasonably, assume - having only Karlach's accounts of Gortash's betrayal, and the knowledge that they were brutally tortured for a month in the building where the guy works - that he might've fucked them over too.

'I seem to have trusted you once, and it ruined me. I'm not about to repeat that mistake.'

Are we stewing in mutual resentment of an old partner, or are we going to hit a massive problem if Durge wants something of their old life back? There is so much unexplored drama in this part of Act 3 and their mutual arc, it pains me.

Plus Karlach should probably be wondering if Durge had anything to do with her enslavement. They almost certainly didn't timeline wise, because if Karlach was shipped off to Avernus 10 years ago then she was gone the year Bhaal came back and gained the ability to pick Chosen, so the window of opportunity for Durge and Gortash to meet (if it exists) is insanely narrow. But the doubt should be there.

And of course the fact that if you romance her and she undergoes ceremorphosis you can tell her how hot it is when she eats people's brains and she goes 'thanks love.'

[melon-fodder]

I’D STILL KNOW YOU • T. Hiragi

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: exes w/ benefits, female bodied reader, semi-public sex, club scene, reader wears a dress, dirty talk, brief fingering & oral, p in v, basically pwp, not really angsty at all

Note: I don't really have an explanation for this other than I'm insanely hot for him lol. enjoy~

Your mouth is so sweet against Hiragi’s, plush and pliant as he kisses you until you’re breathless in his hands. 

“Said we would… stop doing this,” you mumble, smiling against Hiragi when he nips your bottom lip. 

“I know. We’re goin’ to. Last time, I swear,” he says as he backs you into the little table behind you. 

You laugh lightly as he starts kissing down your neck, inhaling your sweet perfume. He used to get high off that shit—still does but refuses to admit it out loud. Rose and vanilla and just a hint of lemon. He was with you when you bought it at that expensive uppity soap shop (had wanted to buy it for you, but you had slapped his hand away from his wallet at the time). 

“That’s what you said last week.” You scratch the back of his head as he moves lower and lower, pulling down the straps of your dress, fingers dancing over bare skin he’s seen countless times before, a good thing considering how dark it is in this little corner. 

Hiragi and a few others from Bofurin were asked to help out as security for a brand new club, just a temporary gig until they got fully staffed, and though the red light district was never his thing, it did give Hiragi a reason to see you in a less-than-modest setting. 

So, what if you were his ex? It wasn’t as if you’d ever stopped truly seeing each other. Near weekly sex hardly counted as a breakup, right? 

You squeal when he sets you on the table, too close to the edge so that it wobbles. Hiragi chuckles, hand splayed across your back as he leans over you to slowly lay you flat. 

“Keep squeakin’ like that and you'll draw attention,” he warns, not as put off by the idea of an audience as he should be. Let them see him with your beautiful body pinned beneath his. 

“I am not squeaking.”

All it takes is Hiragi’s fingers prodding into your ribs to make you release the same noise, and you frantically swat him away, legs kicking on either side of his hips. “S-stop! Not fair.”

“Just provin’ my point.”

You pout. “I liked it better when you were kissing me,” and if that isn’t an invitation, Hiragi isn’t sure what is, dipping further down to catch your lips in his teeth. 

He feels your back arch, pressing yourself against his while gently rocking your hips. Groaning, Hiragi snakes a hand between the two of you, hiking up your little black dress, gripping your thighs, thumb gliding back and forth on supple skin. 

“People could see us,” you pant, but your eyes are closed, and when he asks in a low voice, you want me to stop? you shake your head.  “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

He mouths down your neck, nibbling and sucking and purposely leaving marks. When he gets to your chest Hiragi can’t help but inhale again, nosing at the swell of your breasts as his hand travels higher between your legs. You shiver, the tiniest whimper leaving your throat when he pulls your already low-cut dress down just enough to expose one of your pert nipples.

“Ah, fuck.” You arch again, pressing the bud further into his mouth, hand at the back of his head to encourage him to suck a little harder.

Hiragi feels you reach down, the palm of your hand brushing over his covered cock, and he ruts into it a few times before refocusing his attention where it needs to be–the skimpy underwear that’s more or less plastered to you. He can feel your sticky, swollen folds through the material, running a finger up the seam and groaning around your nipple in his mouth.

“Hope you never stop gettin’ this hot for me,” her mutters just loud enough for you to hear over the club music. The only response he gets his a moan and your legs spreading a little wider.

Hiragi lets your nipple slip out from between his teeth and drops to his knees. In any other situation he would cringe at the sting of tile against bone, but he’s too preoccupied with sliding your thong down your legs, maneuvering it over your heels so that you can keep them on for this. The straps just look too pretty around your ankles, and he impulsively brushes his lips over one of them.

It’s difficult to show any semblance of restraint, but he doesn’t want this to be some sloppy fuck. You deserve more than that. Your perfect pussy deserves more than that, glistening with slick, beckoning to him. Hiragi licks his lips and leans forward, pupils fucking dilated as he spreads you open with his thumbs. Your little hole twitches for him, begging to be filled, and he can’t deny you.

One long finger pushing inside of you has you moaning his name, already clutching at the surface below you, grip tightening when Hiragi gently sucks your clit into his mouth.

His head is hiding you from view, but the fact that you’re spread over a table, letting him go down on you right here and now… It has him sticky with precum. His pants are far too tight, so much so that Hiragi clumsily unbuttons and unzips them to free his aching cock.

“Fuck, baby, you already got me leakin’.”

Your chest rises and falls with every deep breath he pushes from you, but he can still make out the way you whimper, “lemme taste you.”

He could cum right there, but fuck, he wants to feel you. Has to feel you.

Rising from his knees, Hiragi swipes a thumb over his weeping cockhead, gathering pre then leaning over you to press the digit to your lips. “Open up, then, sweetheart.”

You do, staring at him through half-lidded eyes while sucking his thumb into your mouth. So fucking hot and so fucking dirty, and Hiragi knows that he should stretch you out just a little bit more, but he presses his hips forward anyway, lining himself up like it’s second nature (it is).

Your jaw drops open as he works his tip past that first ring of muscle, wet enough that it doesn’t take much effort.

“Relax,” he breathes, kissing your jaw and rocking into you. “Open up for me–I know you can take me.”

He can feel when you start to let go, head lolling backwards as your muscles begin to slacken. Hiragi knows he’s above average length-wise and thick enough to leave your hole nice and loose by the time he’s finished. You’ve sung his praises many times, stroked his ego enough to leave him a little cocky. Your eyes roll aimlessly the further he pushes in, and he’s transfixed by the way your cunt swallows him, clenching around him as if to suck more of him in.

“Jesus–fuck, Ragi…”

“Feel good, baby?” he asks on a groan, bottoming out then shifting side to side to stretch you just a little bit more. “You like bein’ all filled up?”

You nod, yes, yes, yes, silent on your lips. Hiragi grins and sets a pace, not too fast, but every thrust is deep enough to kiss your sensitive cervix. He’s already coated in slick, a ring of thick cream forming at the base of his dick. You spasm around him like you’re struggling to take him, but Hiragi knows better, knows that he’d melded your pussy to the shape of his cock long ago. You feel so good, the perfect fit for him, like two puzzle pieces being snapped together over and over.

No wonder you can’t stop fucking.

Everything has faded–the music, the people. The entire club could be watching, and he’d be none the wiser, too far gone as he pounds into your soft walls. You’re trying to stay quiet, biting your lip, clawing at the table, thighs tight around his waist just the way he likes them. He can feel you quivering, feel how desperate you are for him, and it only makes him fuck into you harder, faster.

Grabbing your hands, Hiragi raises them above your head, presses them against the table with only one of his as he uses the other to reach between your legs.

You can’t hold back your cry when he starts toying with your clit, rolling it under his thumb, pausing to slide a finger alongside his cock to wet it, then returning to the engorged bud.

“G-god, oh my god, p-please.”

“Please what?” he teases, “want me to make you cum?”

You nod dumbly, meeting his thrusts now. The lewd squelching paired with the slap of his balls against your ass has Hiragi dizzy with lust. Why did you break up again? Why did either of you think you could give this up? You’re perfect–perfect for him, and he knows you feel the same way, otherwise you wouldn’t keep coming back.

“Pleasepleaseplease–” A moan catches in your throat, eyes going wide as your pussy seems to open for Hiragi before you start to clench around him. “C-cumming,” you pant like he doesn’t already know.

Hiragi groans, hips stuttering as you all but force his own orgasm from him. He does his best to fuck you through it, slamming into you while painting your insides, muttering the whole time, “take it, take it, baby. Every. Last. Drop.”

And you do. By the time Hiragi stills, his own cum is leaking out around the base of his cock, your cute pussy only able to take so much.

As soon as he releases your hands you’re reaching for him, pulling him into a long, sloppy kiss.

“We’re not gonna stop doing this, are we?” you murmur, not a hint of regret in your voice.

Hiragi grins, catching your bottom lip between sharp incisors, keeping it captive as he answers, “Not a chance.”

[benchwarming]

i meant to reflect a bit before the end of 2024 about the experience of quitting my job last summer, but then my holidays were disrupted by norovirus AND conjunctivitis 🤪 so i didn't get around to it. until now!

i quit my job in august. i'd been at a startup for 6.5 years and had no plans to leave, buuuut then we were acquired in '23 by a big multinational firm. i won't get into all the ways that our new parent company eroded what had been to that point a pretty good place for me to work, but man, it fuckin sucked.

i was admittedly sensitive to it because "toxic legacy corporation led by sociopaths and staffed by mediocre assholes" was exactly the environment i was escaping when i'd joined the startup. but having to kowtow to a new c-suite of boomer-brained idiots with no sense, strategy, or discipline at a company i never wanted to work for in the first place was excruciating. especially bc i then had to turn around and try to make the best of their idiocy for a team of people* looking to me for reassurance and motivation.

i've never quit a job without having my next one lined up. it took like a month to admit to myself i was serious about the idea. then another month to be convinced by friends and fam that i was allowed to quit. then a few business days to calculate how long my finances would hold up. then another month to figure out what would have to happen for me to actually go through with it.

but of course something did happen, and i did quit. it was very scary!!! and i felt so guilty leaving my team. but i was able to kick off some freelance copywriting work right away, and a freelance consulting project came my way after that, and more things popped up after that. and while i have a lot to learn yet about how to make freelancing a sustainable long-term career, i'm extremely confident that it's worth it to try, at least for a while, bc uhhhh i am. SO much happier?!

i don't think it hit me exactly how much work i was doing, or how hard i was pushing myself to stay on top of it all, until i didn't have to do it anymore. i'm still getting used to that honestly. for the first few weeks i'd jolt awake worrying i'd forgotten something on my to-do list or automatically pull up zoom bc i felt sure i had a meeting to attend.

in comparison to that garbage, freelancing has been easy breezy. but i don't mean easy like mindless, i just mean like - i'm able to dictate the terms and scope of the work, and as a result it doesn't feel like "stuff i have to do" so much as "stuff i'm working on." that may be a distinction without a difference for a lot of people but it's turned out to be a pretty big deal for me: if i gotta work to live (and right now i do), then getting to call the shots and fully own the results makes it easier to conceptualize the work as an opportunity (fun! interesting! good use of time!) rather than an obligation (annoying! inflexible! standing between me and fun stuff!). and after years of managing a team it's such a relief to be responsible only for myself again.

of course the other thing i had at that job was a good salary. and i won't lie, i really miss the money. but i think i can get my income back up in that ballpark by the end of 2025 if i play my cards right. and even if i don't, i know now that enduring corporate agonies for that kind of money is no longer a worthwhile tradeoff for me.

since quitting there have been moments where i've felt dumb for not realizing sooner that freelance would be a better fit at this point in my professional life than a staff job. but i went into 2024 knowing i needed to take some kind of step forward in my career, and i did, and i learned stuff about myself in the process, and now i hate being alive at least 25% less per day than i used to. and that's sort of the whole point of everything, right?**

*by december, 80% of our department would be laid off, and the few left over would be desperate to leave. a really unfortunate end to an incredible marketing organization.

**of course now my therapist is like "so since 2023 was your Living Situation year, and 2024 was your Career year, does that mean 2025 is going to be your Relationship year?" and ughghghfhfhgf. like she's right, but. ugh. but she's right! but UGHHH

[pfhwrittes]

for ✨♥️🗡 anon.

a little drabble for the retail hell au. all fluff, no TWs needed i think. female!reader. "love" used as a pet name and john calls the reader a "good girl".

pairing(s): john price x female reader, simon riley x female reader (or even john price x female reader x simon riley if you squint)

600ish words; barely edited again.

-- it’s been a slow start to your shift on the checkouts. your manager for some reason has overscheduled the team, so you’re drifting between the customer service desk which is already covered and the checkouts which is fully staffed. truth be told, you're a little bit confused. you’ve never seen this many people working on front end. you make another slow circuit from the checkouts, offering to take carol off for a break if she wants to, and up to the customer service desk where you chat with megan for a few minutes before a customer wanders over with a bit of receipt paper. 

you’re on your way back to the checkouts when john gestures you over to join him and simon where they’ve been watching the checkouts discreetly from the end of one of the aisles. 

“y’look bored as fuck” simon states matter-of-factly when you join them. john rolls his eyes and sighs at simon’s bluntness before shooting you a small smile.

“what he means to ask love, is if you’d like to do a job for us?” john’s still smiling at you and you’re very briefly distracted by the way the skin around his eyes crinkles. you wonder if he knows you’ll say yes to anything he asks if he shoots you a smile. probably not. he’s got most of the store a-flutter for his blue eyes and old-fashioned charms as it is. 

you twist the bottom edge of your gaudy orange apron between your fingers as you fight against your initial reaction of yes sir, anything you want! and the more sensible approach. 

“what’s the job?” you ask, flicking your eyes over to simon who as always looks like he’d rather pull out his own teeth than be standing on the shopfloor. despite his gruff manner, you quite like simon. he’s funny underneath the front he puts on in front of customers and members of management he doesn’t respect. 

“babysittin’” simon fires off with a completely straight face, folding his massive arms across his chest. you get the impression that he’s trying to look more imposing that he already does. all it does is pull the slightly dusty black polo top he’s wearing tighter over his massive chest.

“babysitting?” you repeat dumbly. you fidget with your apron again and turn your attention back to john hoping that you don’t look as flushed as you feel. 

“i was hoping you wouldn’t mind givin’ simon a hand in the warehouse today, love.” john explains. 

“‘specially considerin’ your prick of a manager’s fucked up the schedule.” simon adds with a scoff. “man couldn’t fill out a rota even if the only thing he’s gotta do is sign his fuckin’ name on the top.”

you press your lips together to stop yourself from smiling at simon. he’s right, after all this isn’t the first time your manager has mucked up the schedules, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. he spots the way you tamp down on your smile and his lips tick up in a brief smirk in response. 

john reaches up to scrub his hand over his beard and your attention is caught by the way he purses his lips. you miss the glimmer of mischief in his eyes as he clears his throat and you look away hastily to look over at the checkouts. 

“so what d’ya think then? gonna give us a hand? hm?”

you nod quickly, aware that carol is glancing over and shooting you a dirty smirk that you hope john and simon haven’t seen yet. 

“good girl. follow us then.”

and well, who are you to disagree when john places the flat of his hand on your lower back just above the apron strings and simon becomes a long line of warmth at your side as they walk you towards the warehouse.

[radiant-reid]

Irreplaceable

Summary: Sad about JJ’s sudden departure from the BAU, Spencer begins to hate her replacement

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst)

Content Warning: a tiny cm case description

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist | Navigation

Y/n met Jennifer Jareau twice before walking into the BAU for her first day at her new job.

The first time was a hush-hush meeting in Erin Strauss's office when JJ, as she preferred to be called, was informed she would be leaving the team and transferring to a highly classified job at the Department of Defense, and Y/n would be filling her role. She admired how well JJ took the news and dealt with Strauss.

It directly contrasted how JJ spoke about their mutual superior when they'd left Strauss's office and could speak privately. Clearly, she wasn't happy about it and assured Y/n it wouldn't happen once she told her Unit Chief.

Y/n wasn't worried either way. Her team at counterterrorism was okay. They didn't exactly make her feel like she was part of their unit, usually treating her like she was less than them for only being a communication liaison, but it wasn't a bad job, and she got to help people.

Still, there must have been something inside her that worried her because she pressed the sixth-floor button on the elevator and briefly showed Y/n around while explaining what her role was.

The second time was directly after JJ had been transferred from the team, unwillingly and unable to be stopped by her Unit Chief. It was awkward, to say the least, happening at the worst possible time, the blonde tearful as she explained her duties in more detail. She knew it was coming, judging by the list of responsibilities she already had made for Y/n.

The team had already gone home that night, aside from Aaron Hotchner who was clearly upset about JJ's sudden departure, but made an effort to sound welcoming.

Monday is the first day she'll be taking the elevator to the sixth floor instead of the seventh. Strauss didn't want to waste a moment in not having the BAU team fully staffed, even though it was her decision to remove their old communications liaison. Being new on a team is always scary, and knowing JJ's loss is still raw for them makes Y/n nervous. She knows they'll hate her or Strauss, and as bad as it sounds, she's hoping it's directed at the latter.

She goes to Hotch's office first, knocking on the door before worrying about if the knock is too loud, and he'll think she's overeager or annoying or too quiet, and he'll wish the Bureau had gotten someone more assertive.

"Come in." He calls.

She opens the door, balancing her box of stuff between her left hand and her hip. "Hi, I'm Y/n L/n. The new communications liaison." She says, unsure of if she's supposed to introduce herself.

"Of course." He nods, standing up to shake her hand before nodding to the seat in front of his desk. "Sit, please." She follows the instruction. "You didn't need to be here this early."

She cringes, realizing she's already appeared enthusiastic to her new Unit Chief, who's probably wishing she was JJ and that it was a regular Monday.

"I'm sorry if that's not okay." She quickly apologizes. "I just wanted to get my stuff from upstairs, set up before everyone else gets here, maybe have a trial run in the conference room." And now she looks like an insecure agent with no idea what she's doing.

Hotch proves how good a profiler he is quickly. "L/n, your evaluations show you're an excemplarary agent. You needn't worry so long as you keep up your high-standard of work on this team."

She nods, slightly more relaxed now, knowing he has some faith in her abilities. "I will, sir." She assures him.

"Settle into your office." He directs her. "There's a case file on your desk. Usually, they come straight to you, but I'm sure JJ explained that."

She nods again. "As well as leaving detailed notes."

"I'll present it to the team for you to observe, but you'll be liaising when we land in Denver." He informs her. "You have a go-bag packed?"

"Yes, sir." She answers, getting up to leave his office.

"You can call me Hotch like everyone else." He tells her. "And there's coffee in the kitchenette, help yourself to it."

Then he goes back to his paperwork, and she slips out with her box, shutting the door behind her. She tries not to focus on everyone's desks as she walks past, not wanting to invade their privacy, but she can't help figuring out who's messy and who's not, who has pictures or books.

JJ's office is slightly less cluttered than when Y/n first saw it. There are still stacks of paperwork, but there's room for the few personal effects Y/n brought.

The case file is there like Hotch said it would be, and she memorizes every detail in the time she has. It's not Hotch who comes to get her but another agent.

He smiles, dazzlingly, offering out his hand to shake hers. "I'm Derek Morgan." He introduces himself. "My office is down the hall."

"Y/n L/n." She introduces herself in exchange, standing and shaking his hand. "The new liaison."

Before he can say something else, someone else pokes their head around the doorway. "You're new." She states. "Are you nice?" She turns to Morgan. "Is she nice?"

Y/n stands there a little awkwardly at them discussing her in front of her, and she's a little worried that this is what it's like at the BAU.

"Baby girl, slow your roll." Morgan places a hand on her shoulder, soothing her. The petname doesn't phase her and Y/n wonders if they're dating or if they're even allowed to do that.

"I'm bad with change. I'm sorry." She apologizes quickly, visibly concerned about being rude. "I'm Penelope Garcia, the tech analyst."

"Y/n L/n." She introduces herself again. "I'm sorry about your friend leaving. I'm nice, though, I promise."

Penelope nods, accepting the answer. "Good. I think it's time for the profile briefing."

Y/n turns back to grab her copy of the file before following them out of her office. "Do you guys really have a private jet?" She asks as they walk along the hallway and through the glass doors.

"Not that I ever get to go on it, but yes." Penelope answers. "I spent my time in my lair, which you're welcome to come by anytime. I have fuzzy pens, toys, and lots of links to funny animal videos. As well as any and all information you might need."

"She's the woman who knows the most," Morgan says in agreement.

Garcia grins at him. "You're just saying that because it's true."

Before Y/n gains any more information, they arrive at the conference room, and she's got to calm her nerves before meeting the rest of the team.

Hotch is already there, as well as two other guys, one much older and one about her age, and a woman with dark hair. "This is Y/n L/n, the new communications liaison." Hotch does the introduction for her. "L/n, this is David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, and Spencer Reid."

She greets Rossi and Prentiss by shaking their hands, but upon offering Reid a handshake, he just turns away from her and sits down, not even acknowledging her verbally.

Thankfully, Hotch does something about the awkwardness they all sense from Reid's dismissive behavior and starts talking about the case.

~

For two months, she has worked at the BAU. For two months, Reid has despised her.

She's not sure if it was the offer of a handshake that started the hatred or if she'd fucked up some other way, or if she's just not who he wants to be communications liaison, but she walks on eggshells around him, terrified to slip up and have him yell at her or try to get her fired. So far, it's only been snarky comments, but it could get worse.

The rest of the team has been much more welcoming, even though they miss JJ. She's learned a lot about them. Rossi writes books, Hotch has a son named Jack, Morgan's from Chicago and he's not dating Garcia, and Garcia has the best collection of happy items.

Emily understands her the most, being the second newest team member, and Y/n can tell some of the time Emily comes by her office, it's just to chat and not for work.  

This time with the gift of coffee. They got back two days ago, having one day off before they had to be back in the offices, where it's time for Y/n to pick another case.

"How are you doing?" Emily asks.

"Good." Y/n answers, although it's not convincing to Emily, who raises her eyebrows. "Everyone has been really welcoming... except Reid. Did you have problems with him when you started?"

Emily shakes her head. "The first case I worked, I spent most of my time with him." She answers. "He was snappy with me when he- well, when he was going through something. I thought Hotch hated me, though."

"Why?" She prompts.

"Well, he thought I was sent here to bring the whole team down," Emily answers like it's casual gossip and not a crazy, complicated speculation.

Y/n's eyes widen. "I guess that's worse."

"I didn't say it so that my situation sounded worse." She assures her new friend, who did already know that. "All I mean is, maybe something more is going on."

Y/n had already guessed that the something more was JJ's departure. "They were really close, huh?"

"Yeah." Emily agrees. "I'm still on your side, though. I love him like he's my little brother, which is why I can say he's being a dick." She laughs at Emily's words. "Missing JJ and liking you aren't mutually exclusive."

"Thanks, Em." She replies, feeling a little more cheered up for the next few days she's going to have to spend with Reid.

"Good morning, pretty ladies," Penelope says, poking her head around the doorframe. "Oh, are you gossiping without me? You better not be."

Emily shakes her head. "I promise we're not. Just discussing Reid and L/n."

"Not like that." Y/n jumps in quickly, making sure an office rumor doesn't start. Worse than Reid hating her for existing would be Reid thinking she's pathetic for having a crush on him.

"What's happened?" Penelope asks, sitting on the edge of the desk and waiting for the gossip.

"He's just kind of mean." Y/n minimizes it, not wanting to seem rude herself. "I think he probably just misses JJ."

Penelope taps her on the nose. "Look at you, little profiler." She jokes. "I'll talk to him."

Y/n shakes her head. "Please don't. He'll get over it, or he'll just be cold to me forever." She jokes.

"Okay, well, Hotch told me to come to get you because he's ready for the case to be briefed, so we can talk more about this later." She informs them.

The three of them get up, trailing to the conference room so Y/n can kick off another case with a briefing. She's gotten better at it in her time there, now delivering the facts effectively.

Then they're off to Chicago to catch what's looking to be a vigilant killer.

Hotch divides the team up as usual, pairing Y/n and Reid together at the precinct to create a geographic profile. It's not unknown that he dislikes her to everyone besides Penelope, who doesn't see them on the field.

Hotch is just hoping that putting them together in the conference room will force him to get over it.

"There's no address on the second victim." Reid realizes, turning to look at the file on the table before looking at the map he's been drawing on hanging up on the board.

"Yeah, he was homeless," Y/n informs him, wondering why he hadn't been paying attention when she said that on the jet. "Oh, I can call Penelope and ask if there was a general area he made purchases." She suggests, reaching for her phone and getting up.

"No." Reid shuts her down, taking his own phone. "I will."

She lets out a deep breath. "Okay, I'm going to get a coffee." She leaves before he demands she gets him one too.

Reid ignores her, dialing Garcia's number. "How can I dazzle you with my bank of knowledge today, boy genius?" She asks.

So he asks for what he needs, holding the phone with one hand while he uses his other to trace over the suburbs. As usual, she has all the information he needs, but he can't get off the phone without metaphorically paying for it.

"How's Y/n?" She asks.

"Communications liaison L/n?"  He asks, pretending that he'd forgotten her name. It makes Penelope scoff at his childish antics. "F-fine. I don't know."

She taps her pen, trying to find a way to talk about Y/n without making the problem obvious. "Do you like like her?" She asks.

He scoffs at the suggestion. "Of course not. She's trying to be a replacement JJ, and I think she's doing a bad job."

"She's yet to mess up." Penelope reminds him.

He knows it's true, but he doubles down anyway. "She will. And I'll get to say I told you so to everyone."

"Come on, Reid-"

"I have to go, Garcia." He says, ending the conversation before she can add anything else.

His blood is boiling at what's just happened. The whole interaction, thinking about Y/n: he hates it. He misses JJ, and Y/n just turned up and started pretending to be her. It's not the same. He's furious no one else notices it either. Why everyone thinks she's good at her job and so perfect is a mystery that he doesn't want to solve.

Then the team gives the profile, Y/n sitting there without comment until the very end. "And we cannot stress how important it is to keep the unsub's possible location out of the press." She tells the local cops. "Our only advantage is we know where he lives and will strike."

Reid thinks it's reductive, nothing about their profile should be in the media, but Hotch nods in agreement with her. "Thank you." He dismisses everyone.

Another victim is not what they need, but it's what they get, and the media runs wild while Y/n tries to control them. The press conference where she informs the public of (common sense) safety directions goes seemingly well, and the team ends up in the conference room to go over more details.

"Hotch, you need to see this," Y/n announces, walking swiftly into the room and turning the tv on. It's a news channel, reporting on information they shouldn't have, the inner details of the profile. "I don't know where they got it." She tells him sincerely.

Hotch has been in this position so many times that he's not surprised anymore. It's always a beat cop with a big mouth.

Reid, however, flies off the rails. "Are you seriously that bad at your job!? You know how much media attention is going to affect this case, the profilers explained that to you!" He yells at her, gaining everyone's attention and shock. They barely see him angry, let alone at one of them. "The press isn't meant to know any of that."

She gulps at the telling-off, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable. She just stands there in shame, not sure what to say.

Thankfully, Hotch steps in. "Reid, walk with me." He demands, dragging him out of the room.

Y/n is mortified to stand in front of the team as well, seeing their sympathy. Reid has definitely made it awkward. "I'm going to... get some air." She decides, speaking quietly before spinning around and practically running out of the building.

She feels stupid to be sitting outside crying over someone not liking her. It's not like she needs everyone to like her, but the conflict makes it awkward for the whole team, and as the newest member, she feels guilty for throwing the balance off.

Emily comes to see her after a few moments, bringing her the jacket she'd left inside. "Hey, you doing okay?" She asks.

Y/n's decided it's easier to pretend she's over it to avoid everyone else's pity. "Yeah, no, I'm good." She assures her. "Just unexpected."

"You deserve to be on this team," Emily tells her. It's something she wishes she had been told when she struggled acclimating to a new unit. "It's not your fault the press got that, Hotch knows that."

She scoffs. "I wish Reid did." Emily looks at her pitifully again. "I just want to move past it, Em." She decides.

Emily nods, understanding her desire not to draw attention to it. "Okay, let's go solve this case."

So they do. They find the unsub at his house in the kill zone, and when he goes to slide the knife into his victim, instead of surrendering, Reid shoots him. There's a silent agreement in thoughts that it's better he's dead. This way, there's no trial, they don't have to testify, and a jury isn't going to find him not guilty of killing people they think deserve to die anyway.

By the time the final press conference is over, and the media has been informed of the case wrapping with a shoutout to the local police department in true BAU fashion, Y/n's beyond ready to curl up in bed.

Unfortunately, the bed is a hotel one and not her own, but a bed is a bed, and she's too tired for it to matter.

She's about to get into bed when someone knocks on her door, and assuming it's Emily coming to check on her, she doesn't ignore it and walks over to the peephole.

It's Reid.

Y/n sighs, not knowing whether or not to answer it. The light is still on, so she can't pretend she's asleep. Unhappily, she opens it, waiting for him to start the conversation while crossing an arm over her chest defensively.

"Can I speak to you?" He asks.

She can't bite down a snarky comment. "Speak to me or yell at me?"

"That's what I wanted to come to talk to you about, t-to apologize." He clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. He actually looks more uncomfortable than her, and she should be enjoying it more. He deserves to feel like that, she reminds herself.

"If it's just Hotch making you, I don't want to hear it." She tells him. He has defined how friendly they're going to be, she's just maintaining the attitude.

He shakes his head quickly. "He's not, I promise."

She steps aside to let him in, figuring it's a conversation that should be had in private. "Alright, keep talking." She prompts, standing in her room.

Spencer stands there awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I've been horrible to you since you joined the team." He admits, and she doesn't protest, just nods. "I'm really sorry about that and, uh, what I said today. It was out of line, and despite what you probably think, not like me."

She's not sure what else to say. She knows he can be caring and kind, just not to her. "Thanks for shooting him." She settles on.

"I didn't do it for you." He says before realizing it sounds bad. "I mean, I didn't do it because you did a bad job. You did great, you always do great, and you really don't need that validated by me. I'm sorry, I'll stop talking."

"Thanks." She says simply. "I'm sorry I have to be here and not JJ. I know I'm replaceable on this team, but I'm not horrible."

"I know that." He assures her. "And I don't think you're replaceable."

She frowns. "I am actually a replacement."

"I guess, but you fit on this team." He assures her. He doesn't know how badly she needs to hear that and feel how different the BAU is from her old unit. "Really well, Y/n, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like you weren't. I shouldn't have taken out how I was feeling about JJ leaving on you. You're amazing at your job, and we're lucky to have you."

"We can start over." She decides. He's trustworthy and kind, and she's sure he'll act like that toward her. "Hi, I'm Y/n L/n. It's nice to meet you."

Spencer offers his hand out to shake hers like he hadn't the first time. "Spencer Reid. When I prove that I'm not a terrible person, and if it's not inappropriate, I'd like to take you to dinner."

That surprises her, only slightly less than it surprises him that he let the words come out of his mouth. He'd been thinking about that since what Penelope said on the phone, but it wasn't his intention to come to her room and include it in his apology.

She can't say she's upset about it, even though dating him hadn't crossed her mind while wondering why he hated her so much. "I'd consider that part of us turning a new leaf.” 

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[bidisasterevankinard]

Wip Wednesday

tagged by @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @cal-daisies-and-briars @tizniz @smilingbuckley <3333

some more from chapter 1 of I'll cover his marks on your skin with mine (I'm sure I can post it before 7x4 so lmk who wants to be tagged)

nsfw bucktommy/tuck again

Buck takes a new condom from the box they left on the nightstand earlier, but before putting it on, he with his finger traces the line of the vein from the tip to the base, being mesmerized by how soft the skin is.

He puts the condom slowly, wanting to touch the man as long as he can, loving how Tommy tries to fuck his hand and makes some pretty moans. He stays like that, stroking Tommy in the slow rhythm till he is fully hard and ready to go, but before grabbing the lube he leans over and kisses the tip before taking some inches into his mouth, moaning around the cock from the feeling of being staffed. It was the moment he blew someone with a dick. 

He doesn’t stay for long, just goes up and down several times, not letting Tommy thrust up with his hands holding the man's strong hips.

“I need to practice doing it more,” Buck says, leaving kisses all the way from the pelvic bone to the lips, not kissing the lips, letting Tommy decide if he wants it. He is so satisfied when man leans to him, putting his big hand on his neck slightly squeezing it, and kisses him wild.

“I can give you as much practice as you need,” Tommy winks and Buck smiles at him, straddling his hips one more time. 

He quickly grabs the lube and slicks up his fingers, taking some time to warm it up before slicking Tommy and himself one more time. 

He can’t help the moan he let out when his two fingers touch his swollen rim, still pretty wet from the first round. He is so sensitive already and he loves it.

“You should see how hot you look when your face is all red, so that your cheeks, birthmark and lips are the same color. Just bright red. So so appealing and so kissable. And the picture of you fingering yourself? Mmm, is so sexy,” Tommy stroking his sides, kissing his neck again, but not biting just carefully kissing the marks, and Buck purrs from affection. 

tagging @wikiangela @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @evanbuckleysarms @rainbow-nerdss @rogerzsteven @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @underwater-ninja-13 @puppyboybuckley @pirrusstuff @aspecbuddie @say-bi-for-me @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @sunshinediaz @devirnis @dangerpronebuddie @fortheloveofbuddie @honestlydarkprincess @honestlyeddie @hoodie-buck @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @buddierights @buck-coded @mandzuking17 @monsterrae1 @steadfastsaturnsrings

[chaotic-orphan]

Hii! So I was wondering if you can do this Sick and Delirious Villain x Hero Story! If you do, there can be a part two. You don’t have to tho but this is what it’s about if you decide to do it. If you don’t wanna read all of it, there is a shortened version of both parts at the very bottom. (But you kind of have to read Villains past to understand)

TW: Panic attacks, SA, Vomit/Throwing up

Villain backstory: Villain had a terrible family. Their parents were neglectful and their brother was absolutely horrible. He would SA, torture (you can decide), and make Villain throw up. Sticking their fingers down their throat and then pulling out just in time to punching their stomach so hard and so many times that they throw up. And Villains parents stood there and did nothing. When Villain was able to leave, they were messed up in the head by the things their family did.

Part 1: Villain and Hero and secretly dating and Hero still doesn’t know how Villains past, and they never pushed. Villain was sick, a fever of 103 and delirious (preferably Hypoactive Delirium), and Hero was at work. Villain woke up from bed feeling really bad and ran to the bathroom to throw up. Seeing their past with throw up, they didn’t want to do it anymore and started crying and hyperventilating. Hero got home five minutes after and was on the phone with Superhero. They heard the villain throwing up and crying so they told Superhero they needed to go. Hero forgot to end the call and shoved the phone in their pocket.

Hero walked into the bathroom and saw a vulnerable, sick, mid panic attack, Villain. Hero tried to comfort them but the were so scared and acted like they didn’t even see Hero. Villain being delirious accidentally told Hero everything that happened in their childhood through sobs and vomiting.

After hearing that, Hero tries to coax Villain back to bed but they felt like they couldn’t move, so Hero carried them. Hero ended up calming Villain down and putting them to sleep.

All while Superhero was still on the phone, realizing Hero and Villains relationship.

Part 2: After last night, Hero decided to take the day off to take care of Villain. Villain was asleep but Hero was up and they got a phone call from Superhero, telling them that they have to come into work today because they are short staffed. Hero tried to protest but Superhero wasn’t hearing any of it. Villain eventually woke up while Hero was trying to sneak out Villain started whining and crying that they need Hero with them but Hero left, but not before putting Villain back to sleep.

While Hero was working, Superhero broke into their apartment while Villain was awake. Villain, being delirious enough as it is, thought it was Hero coming home from work but soon realized that it was Superhero, but it was too late. They were on the floor because Superhero sedated them to drag them out the house. But hero walks in on it.

Short story of it: Part one: Villain and Hero are dating and Villain is sick and delirious and has to throw up, causing a panic attack. Hero walks in on it while on the phone with Superhero and forgets to hang up before helping them. They put Villain back to bed and the next day they decide to stay home.

Part two: Superhero said they have to go in today so Hero does. Superhero brakes into their apartment and give Villain a sedative so they can take them back to their base, but hero walks in on it.

Delirious Villain x Hero, part One:

Anon, talk about putting in the work! This isn’t a prompt but itself a fully plotted out story that you should be proud of thinking of, I would never have imagined this no matter how hard I tried! It is such a fun concept to explore, and I basically have it roadmapped for me— so seriously, thank you for this prompt, it is my honour to put my spin on it <3

I hope you enjoy~ and very sorry for the hUUUUGE delay but part 2 + 3 will come, I will continue this, it was very hard to get the emotion right, so sorry for the delay again I just wanted it to pack the right punch

CW: vomit (described in disgusting detail, it made me a bit queasy ngl), general sickness, fever, hallucinations, distraught whumpee, villain whumpee, past abuse implied, past abuse described, PTSD, panic attacks, hyperventilating, anxiety, past fear, fear of being sick, past trauma, traumatic sickness, forced caretaking, Whumpee doesn’t want caretaking, hero caretaking, hero caretaker, hero x villain, weird listening superhero, being spied on, worried Hero, worried caretaker, familial abuse, abuse of power, vulnerable whumpee, past whump implied, past whump, invasive whumper, invasive Whump (making whumpee vomit physically)

*~*~*~*~*

Hero was checking their phone every five seconds. Villain was currently at home, burning up, after having barely slept last night. Everytime Hero tried to bring them a cool cloth, or ibuprofen or paracetamol, Villain batted their help away, saying with their usual reassuring smile it’s just a cold. I’ll get over it. It’s just a 24 hour bug, I’ll be fine in the morning.

The metro doors opened and the announcer chimed that they were below Hero Tower HQ, South. Hero put their phone away, worrying their bottom lip as they stepped out onto the platform and walked with the crowd up the steps. The bustling streets of Central buzzed around Hero as they ascended to the busy streets of the city.

Hero pressed the button for the traffic light, waiting for the green man to turn on. Hero pulled their phone out of their pocket again.

Still no messages from Villain.

Maybe Hero shouldn’t be here. Maybe they should call in sick and go home and look after Villain. Villain hated being sick, and not in the way that most people did. It was more than just an inconvenience that it would have been to Hero or anyone else. It was an absolute denial and fear, because Villain didn’t want to get sick so they never got sick. It was out of sheer force of will, that in all the four years Hero had known Villain and the last few months they had lived together, last night was the first time Hero had even known Villain could get sick.

The traffic lights changed to red, and the green man for walking turned on and Hero walked across the road, debating whether or not to go home and be with Villain.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Villain had said, their nose stuffy. “You have to work. You like working.”

“Yeah but I like you more,” said Hero. Villain smiled, put a hand on Hero’s knee and squeezed. “Vil—“

“You’re going. End of story. I’ll just be at home making soup and watching Judge Judy or something, I’ll be fine.”

“Why won’t you let me look after you?”

“You can look after me, after work, okay?”

“Vil—“

“Why are you arguing with a sick person?” Villain asked with a lacklustre grin. “Tell you what, if I get bad tomorrow and I need you, I’ll text you, okay Mom?”

Hero rolled their eyes when Villain leaned over and kissed their forehead, as if that was the end of the conversation and Villain wanted Hero to drop it. So Hero did.

And now they felt terrible. They should really go home. Hero turned to cross the pedestrian crossing again when they saw Superhero on the opposite side, grinning at them. Superhero raised a hand in a wave and said: “Hero! Glad to see I’m not the only one running late today.”

Well they were fucked. Now they had to go into work. Maybe they could fake an illness later and get away early. Superhero was beside them then and Hero naturally fell into step with them, turning to walk towards the Hero Tower that rose higher than the buildings surrounding it.

“That villain on twelfth by the docks, Patrelli got a lead in the case so we got a debrief on that this morning,” said Superhero in his thick Italian-American accent. “Plus the mayor has summoned us to City Hall for god knows what—“

“Probably giving out that he’s forced to pay a parking fine,” Hero grumbled, their eyes still glued to their phone as Superhero laughed. A booming, happy sound. Superhero opened the door for Hero and followed through to the foyer after.

“Probably,” Superhero agreed. The pair were stopped at the reception by Conny who held up a pen and a card. “It’s for Creta,” said Conny and Superhero nodded, taking the pen and signing his name.

“She still in the hospital?” Superhero asked, concerned, handing Hero the pen absently. Hero took it and signed their name beside Superhero’s. Then handed the pen back to a sad looking Conny.

“Yeah. She is furious. She hates being useless.”

Superhero nodded sympathetically, saying: “well tell her from me that she wasn’t useless when we put that maniac behind bars.”

“I’ll tell her,” said Conny. “It will mean a lot to her.”

They said their goodbyes and walked to the lift. When they got in, Hero took their phone out again after the doors slid closed.

Then the lift stopped. Hero looked up to see Superhero’s finger on the stop button, and raised an eyebrow in question.

Superhero nodded at the phone in Hero’s hand and said: “what’s wrong?”

Hero straightened on instinct, putting the phone down at their side. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why’re you checking your phone every five seconds?” Superhero asked, arms folded over a broad chest, moulded from years of gruelling training.

Hero thought about lying and playing it off, but they thought of Villain at home alone, sick and they had to tell the truth. Superhero already suspected something was wrong anyways.

“My partner,” Hero sighed, rocking back on their heels and slumping against the metal wall of the lift. “They’re sick at home right now, and they hate being sick and they wouldn’t tell me how bad they were yesterday but I know they had a fever last night and—“

“Okay, Hero,” said Superhero gently. “It’s okay.”

“They never get sick though, and they’re so stubborn that they refuse to accept any help. Last night they wouldn’t even take any painkillers and—“

Superhero put a hand on Hero’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “It’s okay, Hero,” Superhero said again. “It’s only natural to be concerned about the ones we love, especially in our line of work where we can’t exactly turn the hero thing off.”

Hero laughed weakly at that, mumbling a breathy “yeah.”

“And some people are also just bad patients,” Superhero continued. “Some people don’t want others to see them sick because they’re vulnerable and weak—“

“But I don’t think that,” said Hero.

Superhero nodded with that same gentle smile and said: “but your partner probably does. It must be hard for them to know you’re a strong Hero saving people everyday, they don’t want you to feel you have to save them.”

“But I want to help,” Hero pouted and Superhero nodded again.

“I know. So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go upstairs and attend the debrief from the docks and after you can go home and look after your partner.”

Hero’s eyes lit up at that, “really?”

Superhero nodded with a slight laugh and dropped their hand from Hero’s shoulder, turning to press the start button on the lift again. “Yeah really. You never take time off, I’ll tell the boss you weren’t feeling great.”

“You’re a good friend, Superhero,” said Hero softly. Superhero shot a grin back over his shoulder, “yeah you’re not too bad yourself.”

*~*~*~*~*

Villain woke from their fitful sleep in a panic, peeling themselves from the sticky sheets beneath them, their body slick with sweat acting like an adhesive with the bed. The movement was too sudden, too much, Villain’s entire world spinning as their knees hit the ground beside the bed.

That horrible, familiar warm feeling crawling up their throat and threatening to burst, but Villain didn’t… they didn’t want to. They didn’t want to.

“I don’t want it,” they said their speech slurred and far away as they swallowed and shook their head, trying to swallow to stop the inevitable. “I don’t want it. Idonwanto please… please don’t…”

A sudden rush from their swirling stomach climbing hot up Villain’s throat and despite themselves they pushed up off their knees and into the bathroom. Bare feet padding against the tile. Villain grabbed the lid of the toilet and yanked it up, along with the seat and grabbed the edges of the bowl, the cool porcelain barely offering any comfort. They were still too hot. Too warm. Burning from the inside out.

“No… no… no… please don’t…I’m sorry for eating, I said I was sorry…. Please…” Villain sobbed to the empty room, snot running readily down their lips and dripping from their chin into the toilet bowl.

A hand settled heavy on Villain’s shoulder, burning them with the touch. “If you don’t throw up in the next five seconds you’ll be sorry, Vil.”

“No,” Villain wail, then gagged on their own tears and saliva and shoved it down their throat again. “Please… I’ll be good. I don’t want… I donwantople—“

Another hot hand on the back of Villain’s neck and their head was slammed over the toilet bowl, pinning them against the bowl and with the force of it, Villain couldn’t fight the feeling that crawled warm and thick up their throat and despite every fibre of their being fighting against it Villain vomited violently into the bowl.

Villain threw themselves back with a sob, their back hitting the porcelain wall of the tub, legs bent beneath them on the cool tile as Villain wiped their mouth with the back of their arm, panicked sobs wracking through their body.

“You have to do it again, Villain.”

“I can’t please—“ Villain begged, pleading with air.

“You can and you will. Look at you. You’re pathetic. Crying and covered in your own snot and sweat.”

“Please brother, please,” Villain croaked. “Please I don’t—“

“You don’t want to?!” Brother snarled, and Villain shrunk back on themselves. Shivering on the floor and hugging their arms around themselves. “Were you going to tell No, Villain?”

“I—“ Villain began then they were on their knees, hugging the toilet as another wave of vomit slid vicious up their throat. They coughed and spluttered and still it came. All the while Brother stood beside them, phantom hand in Villain’s hair, screaming: “I decide what you do and do not want, Villain. You think you can look after yourself? You’re so weak you can’t even fight me off. Can’t even think about trying to fight me. So weak you can’t even tell your beloved Hero about any of this.”

“Leave… them… alone,” Villain said, then hurled for the third time into the bowl, hacking and gasping. Villain sucked in a breath through their clogged up mouth, because their nose was filled with still streaming snot. They were disgusting. They looked disgusting. They should be able to fight this, but no. Brother is right. Brother’s always right.

A phantom hand began petting Villain’s sweat slicked hair and it made them want to gag again. “It’s so cute how you defend your little Hero. You used to do that with Mom and Dad too, do you remember? They still abandoned you after you did that. Just like Hero will.”

“No,” Villain sobbed, their voice a strangled cry as a fresh wave of tears started rolling down their cheeks. “Hero love me.”

“Parents are supposed to love you too, Vil. You’re just… unlovable. Don’t worry, though, when I find you again I’ll love you how you should be loved. We can pick up where we left off… would you like that?”

“NO!” Villain screamed, throwing a weak arm behind them and wacking it off the radiator instead of Brother. “GET AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE ME—“ Villain descended into another coughing fit “—ALONE! Leave! LEAVE! You’re not REAL!”

Villain started coughing again, their chest rising and falling heavy from the effort of screaming and they moaned into the bowl of the toilet seat as they felt another gurgling in their stomach and knew they would be vomiting again in a minute.

They were miserable, and feeling sorry for themselves and all they wanted was to be healthy. They didn’t want to dredge that dark hole of their childhood up again. Didn’t want to hear Brother’s voice so clear… warmth creeped up their throat and this time Villain didn’t fight it.

*~*~*~*~*

Hero unlocked the door to the apartment finally. Their phone was between their shoulder and their ear, grocery bags hanging out of them filled with chicken and vegetables, chicken soups and more painkillers. Hero threw in a couple of those gel ice packs too just to make sure Villain would cool down and feel more comfortable.

“No, Superhero, they’ll be fine. You don’t need to come over…”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re sick and they don’t even want me seeing them like this,” said Hero, dropping their bags and their keys on the kitchen counters. “Thank you for the sentiment really— I’ll just need a few days.”

“Of course, Hero—“ Hero blanked the rest of whatever Superhero said as they heard Villain screaming from the bathroom then coughing up a lung.

“GET AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE ME—“ Villain cried, descending into a fit of coughs and Hero ran to the bathroom, giving Superhero a hasty goodbye and dropping to their knees beside Villain who was draped over the toilet bowl, vomit crawling thick up their spine like an alien followed by the unpleasant sound in the toilet.

“Villain! Villain! I’m here—“

“Alone! Leave! LEAVE! YOU’RE NOT REAL!” Villain cried, shaking their head and hugging the toilet bowl tighter.

“Vil…” Hero said softly, but they didn’t put a hand on them. Instead they ran back to the kitchen filling a glass with water and took the half melted gel ice packs from the bag and ran back into Villain. They grabbed a towel from the wall and draped it over Villain’s shoulders gently.

Villain flinched at the contact, jerking back violently and swinging a hand out aimed at Hero. Hero dodged it and sank to their knees beside Villain, gently pushing the ice pack to Villain’s forehead. Villain let out an audible sigh and let their weight fall into Hero’s hand.

“Vil… it’s me. It’s Hero. I got off work.”

“He… Hero…” Villain croaked and then broke down into a fit of sobs. Hero didn’t know what to do. So they just gently pushed them away from the toilet seat, let their back lean against the back of the bath and sat across from them, keeping the ice pack on Villain’s forehead.

“You’re burning up, Vil,” said Hero. “You should’ve called me!”

“Didn’t…” Villain said, out of breath and exhausted. “Didn’t wanna.”

“Why?” Hero implored, voice bordering on desperate. Villain put a clammy hand over Hero’s on their forehead and opened their eyes, looking at Hero.

“Didn’t want you to see h-him,” said Villain with an effort. “To see me like this.”

As if on cue Villain jerked forward and hugged the toilet bowl as another round of vomit wracked Villain’s body. Hero put a hand on their back and rubbed soft circles in their back as Villain groaned and spit. Then they started shaking over the bowl, and Hero whispered soothing sweet nothings to them.

Villain shook their head, sniffing. “You don’t know.. you don’t know,” Villain wailed.

“Don’t know what, Vil?”

Villain cried harder at the question, shaking their head.

“I can’t… I can’t… I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t want to vomit again please brother, please—“ Villain mewled, sobbing and shaking their head. Before Hero could say anything Villain gagged and another wave of vomit tore through them, shuddering and sobs followed the particularly violent attack.

“Just hit me,” Villain whispered, coughing into the bowl and spitting out phlegm. “Just beat me today, please. Just hit me. I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good, Brother, please.”

Hero was sitting on their calves, rubbing soothing circles on Villain’s back and stunned into silence. Hero didn’t know who Brother was. They had never heard that name before from Villain, but whatever they did to Villain clearly traumatised them.

Shocked tears refused to fall from Hero’s eyes, but Villain wasn’t the only one feeling sick as Villain continued to babble and plead between bouts of vomiting. It must have been an hour or two they spent on the bathroom floor, Villain begging with ghosts to stop hurting them, to stop making them throw up. Forcing them to vomit.

It became so heart wrenchingly clear why Villain didn’t like being sick, and didn’t want Hero to be there when they were.

Hero was glad they were there. Helping Villain, being there for Villain trying to comfort them in whatever way they could.

After what felt like years Villain sat back against the bath, smacking their tongue against their dry mouth. They found Hero’s eyes and they tried for a smile, a bit more clarity and recognition in their gaze.

“I… I think it’s finished now,” said Villain and Hero nodded, still frozen in place, but they forced their limbs to move forward. “Hero…”

“Let’s get you to the bedroom, Vil, then we can talk,” said Hero. Villain didn’t fight them, they didn’t have the energy. Hero put an arm behind Villain’s shoulder, gently placing Villain’s heavy arm around Hero’s neck, then under their knees. Villain let out a groan as Hero hoisted them up. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm,” said Villain. Hero didn’t know if that was a yes or no but it was okay.

Villain was dead weight in Hero’s arms, not even having the energy to hold themselves and lighten the burden they were putting on poor Hero. They shouldn’t be sick and they hated themselves for feeling like this, but having Hero see them like this.

They would never forgive themselves.

Hero drew the bedsheets back and lay Villain down on the mattress and pillow. “I’m going to get the ice packs, are you okay?”

Fresh tears were streaming down Villain’s face at the embarrassment… but they croaked out a hoarse: “yeah.”

Hero nodded, going back to the bathroom and picking up the stray ice packs before returning to Villain’s side. When they got back Villain was already asleep. Hero let out a soft sigh, worrying their bottom lip as they watched Villain’s chest rise and fall peacefully.

The ice packs were still cold in Hero’s hands but they were dripping, and they didn’t want to put them on Villain and risk waking them up. So they put them back in the freezer and walked back to the bathroom to clean it up.

They flushed the toilet and opened the window to let out the smell, gathered the damp towels from the ground and put them in the laundry hamper. They cleaned the toilet, and mopped the sweat up from the floor with a towel. They’d actually mop later. They didn’t really want to be away from Villain right now.

Before Hero left the bathroom they saw their phone on the ground and picked it up pocketing it.

They thought they had ended the call with Superhero so there was no need to check the phone.

No need to check the call logs and see that in their panic over Villain’s screaming, they didn’t actually end the call when they thought they did.

If Hero did check their call logs they’d have realised that Superhero didn’t end the call either. A two minute call turned into a forty-five minute call, Superhero too shocked to drop the phone from their ear when they heard Villain’s voice.

Villain.

Their enemy.

The person Hero was so worried about being sick, that they rushed home and left work early for. When Hero never left work early.

It all suddenly made terrible, awful sense to Superhero why they had never met Hero’s partner. Always an excuse made to stop them from meeting.

The betrayal stung in Superhero’s chest and when they finally ended the call, they nearly crushed their phone in their hand with how tight they were holding it.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here.

[austinsmutler]

EEK i’m so happy you answered the request so i’m sending another one🤯🤯))

Austin! Elvis going to a press conference and seeing reader who is a famous singer. they grew up in tupelo but instead of going to memphis, reader was big in New York. After finally meeting again, they become as good of friends as they used to be. elvis begins harboring feelings for reader again?

during this press conference, reader gets a lot of “who’s your s/o” or “are you married yet” questions. Elvis can see the visible discomfort and sadness from the reader so he decides to step in. He asks for different questions and holds her hand under the table in a way to comfort them? at the end of the conference, elvis kisses reader and says some cheesy stuff like “for the next conference, you can answer yes to all the boyfriend stuff”

thank you so much EEK

Anon, did we just become best friends? I think we did. Thanks so much for this ask, and keep 'em coming! This one was such a cute idea, and so fun to write.

Thinking About You - Austin!Elvis x Reader - 3,900 Words

What you’ll like: Protective Elvis, 70s Austin!Elvis, BDE Elvis, Elvis stands up for reader, second-chance romance between old friends

Warnings: Period-typical misogyny (in SPADES)

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Please tell me everything you want!)

The press conference wasn't until tomorrow, but the hotel was already packed. Just take care of business. That was the only thing Elvis could think through all the noise, the shouting reporters and camera flashes.

But he had an evening to prepare for the worst of it.

He’d been first to arrive at the hotel, But he was only one of the big names up for an interview. The other artist and the conference moderator were arriving tomorrow. He didn’t even know who they were- hadn’t looked at the conference program or really anything to do with the press event. He just knew it was about music, that the Colonel was trying to set up a collaboration between Elvis and this other artist. The Colonel said it was vital to make an appearance. So here he was, appearing.

Answering a few questions (“I’m so excited for the conference, we have a real talented musician coming out tonight and I can’t wait to meet ‘em”) he made a few excuses (“My manager’s calling me, sorry honey”) and went up to his hotel room. A penthouse suite that was big enough to feel empty. 

Graceland might have been a mansion, but Elvis liked to keep it full of family, friends, and music. This was the worst part of being on the road, Elvis thought as he pulled back the curtain to look at the New York skyline. The city was beautiful, but compact; crowded and cold. The Memphis Mafia were crashing on another floor entirely, exhausted from the day of traveling. This floor was reserved for VIPs only. 

Elvis wandered around his suite: a small kitchen area with fully-stocked cupboards catered to his tastes, a large bed with thick covers of purple satin and velvet, gold trimmings on the walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked half the city, the black roads dotted with yellow cabs and the gray sky above. 

“Although it's always crowded,” Elvis sang to himself softly, smiling down at the streets below, “You still can find some room… For broken-hearted lovers to cry there in their gloom…”

He shrugged the emptiness away, deciding to stroll along the floor instead of hanging there like a ghost in the gloom. The VIP lounge had a fully-staffed bar and a private kitchen, all fully-stocked with anything he could hope to order. 

“Whiskey and coke.” Elvis sat at the empty bar, surveying the green velvet booths. From this angle, there was a view of the brownish-grey Hudson river, just beginning to glow orange as the sun set over New York City. 

The bartender poured the drink just as the door to the lounge opened. Elvis turned in time to see a woman taking reluctant strides into the empty room, hair perfectly-coiffed, eyes darting around the room, only to freeze on him. His fingers tightened on his glass as he recognised who it was. 

You.

** ** ** **

“Elvis Presley,” A smile broke over your face, “It’s been a while, huh?” 

Your heart hammered in your chest as Elvis got up, drink forgotten on the bar, and gave you a hug. Almost a decade since you last saw each other, but his arms hadn’t changed a bit. 

“Wow, look at you.” Elvis pulled back, looking you up and down. It was hard not to feel self-conscious as he drank you in. You wore your best New-York-casual outfit. It glittered like the city lights with every movement, the egg-yolk orange sunset haloing you and Elvis as everything else seemed to melt away. 

You were glad you’d come dressed to impress- granted, that was due to the vultures outside with their cameras. Press conferences weren’t your thing, but your manager had insisted on coming here. 

Then you’d seen Elvis’ name on the program, heard about a possible collaboration, and your mind was set. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, E.P.” You grinned, using the old nickname everyone had called him in high school. Elvis returned the smile with his now-famous lip curl. He wore a red button-up that rose high on his neck, black flares and shiny boots that added to his already-considerable height.

“C’mon, let me get you a drink.” Elvis ushered you to the bar with one hand on your upper back. A respectful touch, but one that sent electricity sparking up your whole body. You fought it away with a shiver, which Elvis caught. “Are you cold? I can ask them to check the thermostat.”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” You grinned. Protective as ever, after all this time. “I’d ask what you’ve been up to since moving to Memphis, but I think there’s not a soul in America who doesn’t know that.”

He laughed, “You could say I’m a modest success.”

“You must be proud.” You smiled, ordering a gin and tonic. Anything to loosen up under the way he looked at you, blue eyes focused on nothing else. 

Elvis shrugged. “I always wanted to make music, and I’ve been doing just that. Rock ‘n Roll, Gospel, Rockabilly, Country. I’ve done a little of everything at this point.” He sipped his drink. “What about you? I heard you were doing well, but I haven’t heard from you since…”

“High school?” You could still remember the last time you’d seen each other: a tearful goodbye as Elvis went on tour and you went to college, certain never to meet again. “Well, you know I was supposed to go to college here, but I actually dropped out. Realized medicine wasn’t for me.”

You smiled at the memories of that simpler time, when you had no idea how the music industry worked. “My first album didn’t do too bad, if I do say so myself. I’m not exactly touring all 50 states, but I do alright for a lil girl from Tupelo.” 

“I’ve seen you on magazines. I almost didn’t recognize you at all the first time, when you did that cover for Modern Woman…” He trailed off, slack-jawed. 

“Well,” You chuckled, “They slap a lot of makeup on me. I use my pseudonym, and I never talk about my personal life. As far as anyone knows, I was born in New York at the ripe old age of eighteen.”

“I have your album at home.” Elvis murmured, looking down at his drink. Were his cheeks lightly pink, or was that the light? You couldn’t tell for sure. “S’nice. Your voice- I’ve never forgotten it. Always thought that record sounded just like you.”

“Wonder why.” You laughed. “It’s so good to see you again, E.P.” 

“You have no idea.” The smile on his face was happy, but not entirely. Sadness echoed in his eyes for a minute- if you didn’t know him so well, you might not have caught it. You pursed your lips but didn’t ask. 

Even after years apart, conversation flowed between the two of you all-too-easily. Eventually the two of you moved from the bar into a booth, still sitting side-by-side instead of across from each other. It was as if there were an unspoken agreement between the two of you: no more distance. A decade was more than enough. 

“You never told me you wanted to be a singer.” Elvis coked an eyebrow at you. “Any other secrets I should know about?”

You shook your head with a grin. “I didn’t know myself, to be honest. You taught me how to play guitar, and when I moved to New York I had nobody to talk to, so I spent all my time in my dorm, playing until my fingers bled.”

You showed him your calloused fingers, the sure mark of a musician. They matched his perfectly. 

“Anyway, one night my roommate pretty much forced me to go out with them to this bar, and they were having an open mic. I didn’t want to do it at first, but my roommate was like ‘You’ll keep me up all night playing, but when you have a real audience you’re suddenly shy? Come on!’ So she shoved me up and I played some Big Mama Thornton. Started with Up Above My Head, then Ball n Chain, Hound Dog... They didn’t let me off the stage till dawn.” 

You smiled at the memory. The crowd, the encouragement when all you’d felt before was fear, everything about being a musician pulled you in. Almost everything.

“The rest is history. Thanks for those guitar lessons, by the way.” You nudged him with your elbow. “You could really make a career out of this music thing.”

He laughed. By now the sun had long since set, and Elvis’ face was perfectly framed in the purple neon lights of the lounge, making him look dark and mysterious. Masculine and sexy. You squeezed your thighs together under the table, trying to fight the more inconvenient memories away. That would hurt too much. 

The last time Elvis had kissed you was the day he left for tour. He left first, leaving your hometown empty. Letters had hurt too much to write, phone calls became too strained and distant, so you’d agreed to stop. But there were no hard feelings- you’d always understood each other, and that hadn’t changed, even though everything else had. 

But here you were. Older, established artists, with separate lives that parallelled perfectly. When Elvis’ hand brushed over yours, you didn’t pull away. He shot you a shy smile- the same he’d had when he asked you out to prom all those years ago. Young, naive, vulnerable. Some things never change.

You stayed in the VIP lounge, talking about life. The music you both enjoyed now, experiences with other celebrities (you’d made an infamous movie with Marlon Brando, leading to a lot of unfounded rumors). Eventually you got to ask how things were back in Memphis. You hadn’t visited in years. 

“Well, we’ll have to change that.” Elvis gave you that curled-lip smile, the one that melted every heart in America- but it had touched yours first. A spark of pride flamed in your chest, but you squashed it down. 

“Is that an invitation?”

There was his hand again, fingers warm on yours. 

“You come to Graceland whenever you feel like it. Just rock up, I don’t mind.” Elvis chuckled. “When they ask, tell security at the gate your name is Blue Suede Shoes. They’ll know you’re alright.”

Your heart fluttered. “Elvis Presley, you can’t just go giving anyone and everyone your secret passwords.”

“You aren’t just anyone.” 

You did your best to ignore the gleam in his eye. You’d probably just imagined it anyway. So much had changed- too much- and yet he was still the same man you’d loved all those years ago. 

Loved. Suddenly none of those feelings felt past-tense.

“I should go to bed.” You pulled away, ignoring the flash of hurt in his eyes. “You should too, conference starts early tomorrow.”

“I don’t sleep much these days anyway.” Elvis offered a weak smile. “Can I walk you to your door?”

You stood on shaky legs- how many gin and tonics had you ordered? 

“If you like.” 

He frowned at your cool tone, but nodded. When you stumbled in your heels, he watched as you kicked them off without ceremony, padding along the luxurious, carpeted corridor in bare feet. 

“Remember when we’d drive down to the creek, in summer?” He spoke softly, and your pace slowed. “You wore those shorts your Momma hated.”

“You loved ‘em.”

“Wonder what she’d say to those shoes.” 

You shared a chuckle- while Elvis’ family maintained traditional Southern values, they also had a rebelliousness your family didn’t understand. Your mother went to special pains to ensure you kept your shoulders covered at all times, never touched makeup or booze, never wore a skirt north of your knees. 

The hotel room door loomed over the two of you, ornate and inviting. 

“Well, goodnight.” You turned to go, but Elvis’ fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you close. You looked up at his eyes, clear blue and inches from yours. His breath fanned hot across your face. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around you, tucking your head beneath his chin. 

“It’s been good to catch up, darlin’.”

He was still standing there, easygoing smile on his lips, when you locked the hotel door behind you. 

** ** ** **

Sleep didn’t come for you that night, and by the time sunlight streamed in through the ornate silk curtains you were kicking yourself for letting Elvis back into your head. The press were ruthless, ready to take any crumb of what you could give them and spin it into a national headline. You needed to choose your words carefully, to be ahead of whatever questions they could ask, but you weren’t. 

You put on a white suit with sharp shoulders and golden embroidery down the sleeves. It made you feel like a queen, but it didn’t take away any of the grogginess. You placed dark aviator glasses over your eyes and headed out with a sigh. 

“Excuse me?” You manager, Joey, ripped them from your face the minute he saw you. “We want them to see your face, sweetheart.”

They were about to announce names in the next room, the moderator taking initial questions from reporters. Your heart thumped so loud it drowned out every other noise. 

“The cameras flash really bright in there. I’ll look worse if I’m constantly blinking the lights out of my eyes.”

“Why do you think people buy your music?” Joey said with an exasperated sigh. “You’ve got a unique sound, sure…” 

He gripped your chin and you fought the urge to pull away. “But your face? There’s a reason we call that the moneymaker.”

“Is there a problem here?” Suddenly a large presence was behind you, and Joey released your chin so he could take two steps back. When you turned, Elvis was glowering at the other man. 

“No problem!” You squeaked. The situation with your manager was… standard, from what you could tell. Other female singers went through it all the time. “Joey was just giving me a… pep talk, before we get started.”

Elvis quirked an eyebrow, but his shoulders relaxed a little. “You’ll do great. You’re the queen of New York blues.”

Those two sentences filled you with pride, and your heart slowed, just a little. Elvis studied your face like he was trying to read your mind, and it was all you could do not to blush under those blue eyes. 

Then someone called his name, and he disappeared through the curtains to greet the crowd. There was only one rule at the press conference: each performer would have the spotlight, on their own, for ten minutes. Elvis’ manager swung it so he was on stage all by himself for the first ten minutes- even if you wanted to steal the spotlight, it would be impossible. Smart. 

His solo time was over in a flash though. Your name was called and Joey all-but pushed you out in front of the sharks. 

The flashes instantly blinded you, and you almost stumbled on your way to the table, but you sat down without a hitch. Step one, check. 

“Howdy.” You smiled into the microphone, prompting another roar from the crowd. Then the questions began.

“When are we going to see another album from the queen of New York Blues?”

“Keep an ear out. My new single will be out next week, and an album not long after.” 

“Your last album had a whole lot of love songs, can you tell us what - or who - your inspiration was?”

The question would have made you stutter, but with a glance to the moderator, you knew you were on your own. 

Then a warm hand found yours under the table. You could feel the cool metal of his signet rings, and it relaxed you. Elvis.

“Inspiration is a funny thing for any artist.” You managed to keep your voice steady. Almost friendly. “Blues comes from the South: work songs, field songs, church music, folk and pop all coming together. It’s full of pain and love. It just so happens that when I write a song, I draw more from love.”

Your fingers dug into your knees under the table as you realized your mistake. Too specific. It gives them too much of an in.

“So is it safe to say you’re in love?” 

“With my music.” You said with a firm smile. “Every Friday I put on my red shoes and dance the blues, gentlemen.”

A chuckle spread through the crowd, but one reporter wasn’t ready to drop it. “Are you currently seeing any men?”

“Yes, a whole lot of them. Right in front of me.” Another laugh from the crowd, Elvis’ hand gave you a reassuring squeeze under the table before withdrawing. When you chanced a glance from the corner of your eye, he was smirking. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Why, are you interested?” Your chuckle was a little high-pitched, forced. You could keep your cool well enough, but this was the part of the job you hated: the scrutiny of everything personal. It wasn’t enough to put your soul into your art, people wanted a piece of everything else too.

“Just interested in the truth.” The reporter smiled, but it was more of a sneer. “Who are you seeing?”

“Nobody.” Eloquent answers hadn’t worked, maybe short ones would. 

“Dating around?”

“No.” You shifted in your seat.

“What do you have to say to the rumors about your secret marriage?”

You rolled your eyes. “I starred in one movie with Marlon Brando. As a background character. We never even spoke.”

“Is that a hint of bitterness there?” A laugh- at your expense- broke through the crowd. You forced a smile. 

“Well-”

“Could we get some questions about her music, please?” Elvis leaned forward with a pointed gleam in his eyes. “C’mon, this is the queen of New York Blues here, fellas.” 

He glared at the moderator, who checked his watch. “Actually, it’s time to open up the floor to questions for both artists. Who would like to begin?”

The next few hours went by in a blaze of questions- mostly for Elvis, but a few about your upcoming album and collaborations. If any reporters asked personal questions, you deflected them- or Elvis glared at the reporter until they decided to change tactic.

By the time the event was finally over, you just wanted to go back up to your hotel room and collapse in bed. Maybe cry. Definitely cry. Something about giving away so much of yourself at once felt like being ripped to shreds, even if it was your job to feed the frenzy. 

“What were you thinking?” Joey said as he walked you to the elevator. He put on an insulting falsetto, “‘Oh, I’m not seeing nobody’, ‘No, I don’t date’- what was that? We need the fans to think you’re available, not a nun.”

“Yes sir.” Irritation knit your eyebrows together, and Joey pointed at your face. 

“And that. What have I told you about smiling? People want to see you as their happy girlfriend, not their miserable old crone of a wife.”

“I’ll get it right next time, Joey.” Your smile was all teeth. “They seemed excited about my next album.”

“Humph.” He grunted as you reached the elevator, you stepping inside while he hung in the doorway. “I’m going to be taking follow-up questions. I’ll try to sow some actual intrigue around your personal life, see what I can do to salvage this.” 

He took your aviators out of his pocket and tossed them at your feet. “You forgot these.” 

A growl interrupted the moment before you could think of a reply.

“You gonna get in that thing or what?” A low voice drawled from behind Joey, who turned to see Elvis glowering at him for the second time that day. 

“Not at all, Mr Presley. Fantastic job today, by the way.”

“Hmm.” Elvis dismissed the man with a wave of his hand that left no room for discussion. 

Once the elevator doors closed, he knelt to pick up your sunglasses. “You drop these?”

“Um. Yeah.” You blinked back tears, pasting on a smile. “Thanks, E.P.”

People want to see their happy girlfriend, not a miserable crone. 

Joey was a good manager. He could book you in anywhere- all the bars and clubs and even a few theatres, which was almost unheard of for a Blues artist, much less a female one. But the price you paid for that - aside from 40% of your royalties - was being ground into the dirt after every performance, musical or otherwise. You knew he enjoyed it, got a thrill out of tearing his performers down after seeing them built up. But there was nobody better in the business.

“You could do better than him.” Elvis said as you rode the elevator to the penthouse. 

“Who, Joey?”

“I know it’s not my place, but you’d really be better off with a player like Brando.”

“Me and Joey?” You laughed. “We’re not a couple. He’s my manager- just my manager. I wasn’t lying about being single.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, clamping a hand over your face. “But I can’t believe they asked about Brando. When I heard that rumor, I never thought they’d actually say it to my face.”

“Unprepared paps.” Elvis mumbled with a roll of his eyes. “Always ask stupid questions.”

“I hate them.” You spoke without thinking. It felt good. “Every time they ask me anything, it always goes the same way. Who am I dating? What does my non-existent boyfriend think of the album? When am I getting married? If I wanted to answer those questions I’d call my Momma."

Elvis smiled at his shoes, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. The elevator pinged and the doors opened on your floor. You both got out, but didn’t make a move. His room was on the right, yours on the left. 

"It’s not like anyone’s interested, anyway.” You'd meant it as a joke, a parting word, but Elvis stopped you before you could turn around.

Before you could open your mouth, his lips were on yours, hands cupping your face gently. Like you were something precious. He was the only man who’d ever touched you so reverently, like he was lucky to be so close to you. 

The kiss was soft, but hungry. Before you knew it, Elvis had you backed against the wall, his hands on your hips as he devoured your lips until you had to break apart to breathe. 

“Consider me interested.” Elvis breathed, thumb stroking over the small of your back. 

“E-” His name turned into a gasp as Elvis’ lips found your neck, finding the sweet spot where your neck met your shoulder, as easily as he had when you were teens in the back of his truck. He remembers everything, doesn’t he?

“Next time they ask,” Elvis kissed just below your ear, “You can answer yes to all those questions." 

He pulled back to look in your eyes.

“Please.” He said, even though he hadn’t phrased it as a question.

You nodded, leaning up for another kiss. “I forgot what it’s like.”

He looked at you curiously. 

“You. Being close to you. E.P, I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I know it’s only been a day, but you still make me feel… safe.”

His arms tightened around you. “I should’ve called you more, on that first tour. I was an idiot, darlin’. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Kiss me again. I’ll consider it.”

[talshiargirlfriend]

Trip/T'Pol #7

a kiss to shut them up…

This has been languishing in WiP Limbo long enough.

Trip had been in perfectly good form at the gathering, and yet T’Pol had felt a sense of agitation that she knew did not belong to herself pressing against her awareness all evening. Her mate was troubled. Prior experience had shown he may not appreciate her inquiring about emotions he hadn’t actually expressed. She wondered if he was even aware of them. Humans seemed to share the Vulcan propensity for completely ignoring inconvenient feelings. 

She and Trip planned to stay in a hotel overnight before meeting his parents for “brunch” the next day.  He had professed great excitement at the prospect. Trip had introduced her as “Commander T’Pol, Elizabeth’s mother” and then paused a beat before adding “and one of my best friends” when she met his parents just over a year ago at her daughter’s funeral. Perhaps he was having doubts about introducing her as his mate -his romantic partner-  this time. That would be unfortunate but understandable given their history. 

As they made their way out of the restaurant they walked close together, close enough for him to surreptitiously rub his pinky finger against hers. Through the physical contact she could feel the thrum of his anxiety more strongly. Her concern increased. 

Taking his hand fully in hers, she turned to face him, “Trip, is something bothering you?” 

He glanced down at their hands, clearly startled that she was touching him in public. T’Pol felt a flicker of unease and dismissed it. She wasn’t doing anything inappropriate. 

“Well, Anna’s leaving,” he said, as though that explained anything. His thought processes continued to prove baffling.

 “You are… concerned about staffing changes?” She allowed a trace of her puzzlement into her voice. 

“What? No. Uh, she’s leaving to get married, and that got me thinking… I don’t really know what your opinions are on the subject, but I always thought I’d get married someday.” He sounded wistful.

She eyed him warily. Did he no longer see that as a possibility? “I expected the same for myself,” she agreed a bit stiffly. 

He didn’t seem to hear her. 

 “And this whole psychic bond thing seems pretty permanent. I mean, I guess I don’t know, but it feels that way to me.”

“To my knowledge, a bond of this nature typically endures until the death of one partner,” she agreed softly. 

Again he continued without acknowledging her words. 

“It wasn’t easy to get used to it, but I don’t think I’d feel whole now without having you, this sense of you, with me.” Trip sighed, “It seemed to work pretty well for Lorian’s parents. I know, I know, we’re not them, and we’ve been through a lot since we … would've become them- god, time travel is weird.  Maybe too much has changed or not enough…” 

He took a deep breath and continued, “Look, T’Pol, I love you, and I know you haven’t had the best experience with marriage,” he grimaced outwardly and she did so inwardly. “So the last thing I want to do here is put you under pressure, but … I want to marry you. I think we should talk about it. Things are really good with us and nothing needs to change, but it feels like it’s at least worth having a discussion even if —“ 

She cut off his accelerating flow of words with a kiss. After a moment of surprise he responded enthusiastically, raising a hand to cradle her head. 

“Yes,” she said simply when they broke apart.

“Uh, yes to what?” Trip regarded her cautiously.

“Yes, you are correct.” 

“All right, I like the sound of that. … What exactly am I right about?” he pressed with a confused frown. That expression would look well on her children one day.

“You are correct that it is logical that we should discuss marriage at this stage of our relationship… although it may be a brief conversation,” she conceded.

“Because you don’t want to get married?” he suggested. He tried not to show his disappointment. That’s what he had expected, after all. He made a good show of neutrality. She might have been convinced if she couldn't feel the ache behind his words. 

“I did not say that,” she pinned him with a flat look. 

His eyes widened. “Oh! Well. Then I will look forward to discussing this with you further,” he grinned. 

“Trip. Do you remember when you encouraged me to ask for things that I want because my needs and desires are important to you?”

He nodded a little sheepishly. 

She looked at him pointedly. “You should remember I have a vested interest in your happiness.”

“Because a happy engineer is an efficient engineer?” he grinned cheekily as he used one of her old excuses against her.

“Because you are my mate, and I love you.” 

He blinked rapidly for a second and squeezed her hand. “That’s a good reason. I love you too.”

Quietly they made their way down the street. 

“Trip?” 

“Hmm?”

“I will not consider a ‘honeymoon’ in Cargo Bay Three.”

His amusement washed over her in a warm wave, as pleasant and familiar as his scent in her nostrils, the cadence of his footsteps beside her, and the weight of his hand against her own. 

“That’s ok. I've got my heart set on visiting Andoria, darlin’, and I know you’d do anything to make me happy,” he retaliated.   

“Within reason,” she amended.

“Well, that’s all a guy can hope for, really. Can’t wait to see the look on my mama’s face when I tell her we’re together…”

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Robert Tracinski at The UnPopulist:

Project 2025 is a governing blueprint prepared by the Heritage Foundation, one of the right’s most prominent intellectual organs, to ensure that an incoming Trump administration can count on personnel unshakably loyal to Trump to execute an agenda that fully reflects MAGA priorities. For much of the year, Project 2025 has been a controversial campaign issue: The Biden and then Harris campaigns tried to tie Trump to this unpopular and vaguely sinister-sounding plan, while the former president repeatedly tried to disavow all knowledge. Elon Musk, who is now Trump’s second-biggest financial donor, even suggested earlier this week that “Project 2025 is just QAnon for lefties,” implying that concerns over Project 2025 are equivalent to the far-right conspiracy theory that a network of Satanist cannibal pedophiles is behind opposition to Trump.

Yet the origins of Project 2025 are all out in the open. At a Heritage Foundation dinner in April 2022, Donald Trump acknowledged the crucial role that the conservative organization would be expected to play in the years that followed: “The critical job of institutions such as Heritage is to lay the groundwork, and Heritage does such an incredible job of that. ... [T]hey’re going to ... detail plans for exactly what our movement will do ... when the American people give us a colossal mandate to save America.” A year later, Heritage did just that when it published its 900-page policy document outlining a vision for a second Trump presidency. “Large portions” of that document, according to a New York Times analysis published last week, “were written by longtime Trump loyalists who were advisers to Mr. Trump during his first term.” And the connections between MAGA and Heritage go well beyond Project 2025’s origins: Trump’s pick for vice president, JD Vance, has written the foreword for Heritage President—and Project 2025’s architect—Kevin Roberts’ forthcoming book on “taking back Washington to save America.” To understand this connection, let’s establish some context.

An Administration in Exile

Donald Trump has repeatedly complained that he was prevented from doing what he really wanted in his first term. He blames the “deep state” of entrenched lower-level bureaucrats, but it was also the “shallow state”—his own direct appointees, including aides and cabinet officers—who watered down, slow-walked, and sometimes overtly resisted Trump’s urges, usually out of moral or legal concerns. For example, when Trump tried to shake down a foreign leader for political favors, he was ratted out by non-political members of the national security services who understood their loyalty to be to the United States, not to Trump personally. This led to his first impeachment.

Trump and his supporters complained bitterly about this “disloyalty” and insisted that the president should have unlimited ability to set the U.S. government’s agenda for whatever personal reason of his own. In effect, they felt he should be an elected autocrat. Russell Vought, Trump’s director of the Office of Management and Budget and a key figure in the development of Project 2025, summed up the problem: “We had people, appointees, that were not on board with the president’s viewpoint. ... I don’t think that will be the occurrence again.” Heritage set out to make sure the next administration would be staffed only by loyalists. In fact, this is precisely what big DC think tanks like the Heritage Foundation exist to do. They provide an administration in waiting, where political appointees in the executive branch—secretaries and under-secretaries and deputy under-secretaries—can find a refuge in exile, so to speak, while the other party is in power. Then, when it’s the incoming administration’s turn to govern, these institutions serve up a ready reserve of political appointees.

Heritage did unusually well in 2017 at placing their people within the Trump administration, and they have since adopted the goal of “institutionalizing Trumpism.”

[...]

A Punitive Agenda

What is that agenda? The sheer breadth of Heritage’s 900-page document detailing Project 2025 is possibly its best protection, since it allows Heritage’s Kevin Roberts to talk about it in vague generalities that make it sound eminently reasonable, knowing that it’s unlikely the average person will ever read any of it for himself. But the substance of Project 2025 is more insidious than has been widely reported.

[...] Let’s stipulate that even if this is Trump’s blueprint, he may not be able to implement all of it, particularly given his mercurial style of leadership. But in this regard, personnel is policy in another sense: Trump is likely to rely on Heritage people for the day-to-day running of his administration, and they will keep pursuing this agenda even when his attention wanders—because they see increasing Trump’s power as a way to increase their power. The specific abuses of government power envisioned in Project 2025 are less important than this attempt to stack the federal bureaucracy with pliant loyalists. Trump once publicly praised Heritage for the role he expected it to play in paving the way for a future Trump administration free from the constraints imposed by personnel loyal first and foremost to the Constitution. Project 2025 was instead designed to achieve Trump’s goal of making the entire apparatus of the U.S. government responsive to his personal whims. Many Trump supporters argue—conveniently forgetting small matters like Covid and Jan. 6—that his first administration was not a disaster despite all the dire warnings. To the extent that his first administration was not worse, it is because he was largely stymied in imposing his will by men of conscience. A study of how the “shallow state” of first-term Trump appointees blunted his worst urges lists one of their main motives: “appointees saw themselves as constitutional guardians or the ‘adults in the room’ who could protect the country from Trump's potentially unwise or illegal directives.” Project 2025 is an attempt to ensure there will be no such “constitutional guardians” the next time.

The regressive Project 2025 agenda from Heritage will guide a 2nd Donald Trump term, even though Trump has claimed to “disavow” it.

[robinsnest2111]

still hung up on the sum of all these stupid mistakes (once again somehow messing up calling in sick which led to logistical and staffing issues and just a whole damn mess in general, the failed joke making it seem like i hate my boss/job) having almost cost me my job tbh. that was the biggest kicker.

like yeah I wouldn't have been out of employment instantly BUT if people were more strict I would've gotten an official warning letter for this current bunch of mistakes. which could be the first step to losing my job if i keep messing up. like. a tangible thing. a letter. black on white.

(also the way this discussion was started. "just wanted to ask: do you like working this job?" me, not sensing anything wrong answer yes. and then "doesn't seem that way to me because reason xyz" and I get it I totally get it!!!!! i get how all of this combined can come across as a total asshole move from an outside perspective!!!! I should know better I should do better. I am an adult human being of 28 years after all. I'm fully grown. but. there's so much I still have to learn and experience for the first time at 28 because in my childhood and teen years I was too busy getting bullied by peers for being weird, getting punished by my parents for being mentally ill and having annoying symptoms and not being normal or functional and making their life hell and disappointing them, and constantly thinking about killing myself to properly socialise and learn conflict navigation/resolution skills and so many other crucial things that a normal 28 year old should know....

I feel so stupid and underequipped and just not fit for society. you know nothing you stupid little thing

[starry0-o]

Hey, I hope you're doing well. I'm thinking of you and sending lots of love 🌻!

This message isn't about pressuring you to post the next chapter; I just wanted to check in and make sure everything is okay and that you're alright 🩷🤗.

Hello!!!! I am doing well 😅 unfortunately, some staffing losses at my job has created a massive work uptick, increasing the hours I'm working by 10 to 15 additional hours every week. I do have a handful of hours at night and over the weekend that I could devote to writing, but that I simply am too tired to actually use that small time to do it lol.

But fear not! My job is hiring and we should be fully staffed again very soon (I hope) and I STILL AM COMMITTED TO FINISHING THE STORY THIS YEAR! Most definitely 😊 (I know you didn't ask this, but I am telling you anyway haha)

Thank you for checking in 🥹

[birdonawiresara]

Closed starter for @adsagsona

Ever since Sara had been reensouled, she had been bouncing around from one place to the next, living out of an old go bag that had somehow made the move to the bunker. She’d stayed with her sister - who Thea was now apparently living with - and spent time sleeping and stealing food. But mostly sleeping. Then she’d went and stayed with her dad for a few days, reminiscing a bit, which helped. Her memory was still touch and go, with memories being fuzzy, or combined with other memories, or missing altogether, so talking helped. She’d even gone to Central City to visit her mom. However, now she just wanted a place to lay low for a little while. To recover while also pushing herself to be field-ready again. And she loved her family more than anything, but they would hover - not that she could blame them. Still she’d intended on going back to some of her old safehouses, or setting up new ones, when Oliver offered to let her stay at his place. Oliver who knew when to hover and when to back off, when she should talk regardless of how she felt and when she needed silence. So she agreed, bag in hand as he opened the door to the loft he was currently living in, letting out a low whistle, “Wow. I mean, I know you’re used to fully-staffed mansions, but I was planning on sleeping in an abandoned building tonight, so...”

[reikurusu]

OMG GURL GO LOOK FOR ANOTHER JOB 😩 sheesh your work sounds a lot. and boss looking for you on a Sunday too?? 🚩🚩🚩

Aww Chromie, that's so sweet of you to send!! <3 T_T

The thing is, I actually really like my job! It's just been stressful lately.

We've had a colleague who's been out for 8 months because of burnout, so it was just me working full-time, a colleague who works part-time and a third colleague who works 4/5 but who's close to retirement so she... doesn't really do anything. Like, the bare minimum and even that's a lot to ask. Like, literally shopping online and booking trips the entire time she's there and it doesn't matter at all if anyone says something about it (and she's not the friendliest person around tbh) -_-

So because of that one colleague's absence, I technically had to work 6 out of 7 days to cover the opening hours of the library I work at (the almost-retiree covering most of the other hours, pretty much the only thing she's good for) + I had to cover the absent colleague's workload because my part-time colleague took on the head of dept tasks and didn't have time to take on even more because she works somewhere else as well. So it's been a lot. But luckily there were days I could leave early or take a day off (my overtime was just building up the entire time). So it sucked and it was tiring but all in all it wasn't too bad. I was alone at the office a lot of the time, so I could manage all of my work without distractions.

But since July, we have a new head librarian and he's... let's call it enthusiastic. In August, the colleague who was absent started again, but part-time for now. So we're almost fully staffed.

The thing is... Our head of dept wants to organize a lot of things. Because we were severely understaffed, we didn't organize any activities for almost a year, which he wants to change. So he organised author readings, wants new things in our collection, wants all classes of the elementary schools in the neighbourhood to be able to visit,... And he all wants it immediately.

He also started right when the part-time colleague had two weeks off, so I had to train him after only being there for like a year and half myself + having spent a large part of that time alone at the office. And I hate training people! So that wasn't fun. And during the times he is/was alone during opening hours and I'm not there (like during the weekend or something) and he has a question, I told him to call me so that I could help, but jfc dude you've been there for like 3 months already! Figure it out and don't call me on my only day off??

My one part-time colleague does a lot, but because she works part-time, she can only do so much. So our new librarian gives her extra work but realizes she can't do it all.

The almost-retiree doesn't get any extra work because she just doesn't care and wouldn't do it anyway (she's been there for 30 years!! She hates the job, literally calls people who read nerds(???), hardly does anything but apparently they can't fire her?? Fcking government jobs and their idiotic rules. I bet she's buddy buddy with the mayor).

And because the colleague who had burnout only works part-time and can't be given too much work because 'what if she can't handle it' or 'isn't healed enough to deal with a big workload', our head librarian has been giving me a lot of extra work because I'm the only other full-time person there.

I have my own work (adult non-fiction books), + still part of workload of the colleague who was absent for months (I have to order dvds, games and comics (+ maybe manga in the near future which is actually cool)) as well as covering shifts during opening hours and what not.

I like having a lot of work, so I always have something to do. But it sucks when someone constantly gives you extra stuff to do on top of your regular work, while not or hardly doing that to the other people there, and then has the audacity to send an e-mail telling you which things you have to prioritize, as well as the order in which to prioritize them. That's just insane to me?? Especially since I have my own to-do list and I know what I have to do and what's more important than other things. I just don't like someone looking over my shoulder like that.

I'm focused more the tasks he's been giving me than my own work! I have a delivery of books and comics that I have to put into the system that's been standing there for over a month because I just don't have the time to do it. I have to go through the old books and see which ones I should write off for our book sale in a month, but I just don't manage to get to it due to all the other stuff I have to do (and I have two weeks off in a week so I just can't do it).

On top of that, I also have to apply for my job! I'm working on a temporary contract right now and they want to keep me on a contract of indefinite duration, but because it's a government job, I have to apply for it and go through the whole process again!! And other people can apply for it as well, so there is a chance someone better comes out of it. So I have some low-key stress for that because I don't want to have to find a new job right now.

And I haven't even mentioned friends who constantly want to meet up and do things like I have nothing else to do on my days off

I hate being a people pleaser. I just can't say no or tell people that it's a lot because I feel like it's expected of me. Which really sucks. I should enter my villain era or something but I'm too much of a goody two shoes to do that aarrrhhhhh!!

Sorry this got so long... I feel like I needed to vent a bit xD Thank you so much for looking out for me, Chromie! It means a lot!! <3 x