#i think what i will probably do is take the parts that i think are good points and put them together into a post on my main blog.

[teaboot]

Things you can do as a security guard instead of acting like a dickhead: a vent post disguised as advice

Offer alternatives: IE, “Sorry, nobody’s allowed to hang out over there, but we have seats over here you’re welcome to use”. I recommend getting familiar with local parks, public seating, free food programs, outreach, mobile aid, etc., just in case those are needed.

Be polite: IE, “Excuse me, sir”, “I beg your pardon, miss”. This should go without saying but everyone deserves dignity.

Avoid phrasing requests as orders: IE, “Don’t stand in front of that” VS “Excuse me, could you move a bit to the side?”. This works best with an explanation, like, “There’s a sign behind you”, or, “you might get clipped by someone”. This helps communicate that you are asking for a reason, not just throwing your weight around. If you don’t have a reason, rethink whether or not you need to be doing anything.

Avoid directing blame or fault. Don’t say, “The owner says you gotta go” when you could say, “I’m not supposed to let people be here for X period” or “do X thing”. Again, try to have alternatives ready so people can use other resources or do something else instead of just abruptly changing plans.

Come from a place of compassion whenever you can. People are gonna tell you to get rid of the crazy screaming guy. They say that because they’re frightened and don’t know what to do. Your best approach is, “Hello sir”, followed by, “How are you today?”, “how’s it going?”, “are you doing alright?”, etc., depending on what the person is ACTUALLY doing / saying when you get there. You can offer help from there if needed, or leave them alone if they’re not in danger or a risk to anyone.

Remember you’re not a cop. This can mean whatever you need it to mean. For me personally, that means that with incredibly rare exception (like trying to sell to kids, contaminating other’s food or drink) I won’t report you for drugs. If I find you doing drugs on my site I’ll tell you a different place where you can do them instead and ask you to do them there. I have interrupted drug deals to ask the client and the salesman to both kindly move 15 feet to the left, I’m not kidding, I do not care.

Know who you can throw under the bus. Sometimes you gotta enforce rules and be the bad guy and if that’s the fault of some dipshit in a suit 200 miles away, you can say that. Sorry man, I can’t let you park your car on the lawn. I know you’re not hurting anyone and frankly I think lawn culture is stupid but there’s other parking stalls and if my boss sees you I’ll get a write-up for not doing my job. Shit sucks sometimes but if it wasn’t me telling you it’d be the new guy, and between you and me he’s an idiot and he’ll probably just report you to bylaw.

Don’t just act like you’re their friend, genuinely try to be a good friend. If you know that someone is doing something that will only result in a bystander phoning police, don’t let them go down like that. Let them know, “hey man, you seem like you’re having a shit time and I get it, I’ll do what I can, but we gotta have this conversation somewhere else ‘cause we’re freaking out the old ladies.”

Swallow your tongue. You can’t fix the world. People are gonna bitch at you about communists and 5G and gangster rap ruining the neighbourhood, that’s just part of the deal. Nod along, remain neutral, shut down any hate speech, redirect if you can, and keep a limit in mind where you’ll have to shut things down.

Accept that sometimes there are no solutions. Yes, that angry guy who blasts music will be back tomorrow. That homeless woman who asks you to help her find her dog that she hasn’t had in 30 years will ask again, and yes, you’re still going to take a description and promise to keep an eye out. That kid who smokes crack behind the building has been clean for a few weeks and still stops by to say hi, and you hope he’ll get his life together and be happy, but he also might relapse and OD before he hits 25. Sometimes you just have to do the best you can, even if nothing is guaranteed.

Be kind to teenagers. Being a kid is hard, and everyone’s on their ass all the damn time for everything.

Remember that the vast majority of bad people aren’t bad, just unhappy. The guy who keeps showing up drunk and puking on the carpet is unhappy. The lady who bitches about the service every single time and keeps coming back anyway is unhappy. The guy who leaves trash everywhere is probably unhappy. If they were happy, maybe they’d do better, but they’re not, and that’s kinda sad. You don’t have to let them get away with their shit, but they probably aren’t actually a worthless human being either.

It doesn’t matter if 12 is true or not. You need to believe it or you will become a harsh and bitter person. Look for evidence that people are not terrible and invent it if you have to

Don’t let yourself become a bastard

[ddejavvu]

no cause now I'm thinking about Garcia freaking out when Spencer comes to work with a smartphone and asking him what made him finally get one after years of her asking him too and Spence just going bright red and stammering trying to think of a reason that isn't related to your nudes 🤭

part 1

--

Spencer's text tone is what gives him away, because he's not interested enough in the device to use it for anything other than necessity. But the familiar whistle has everyone digging in their pockets until they see Spencer reaching into his own bag.

"Reid, I don't think it's your landline," Prentiss snickers, checking her own phone to find a blank screen.

"I got a new phone yesterday." Spencer grumbles, "And I keep forgetting to ask Y/N how to turn the sounds off."

Penelope blinks at Spencer owlishly as he retracts a brand new, shiny iPhone from his messenger bag, default background shining especially bright against the dark wood table. She'll tell him later that it's the switch on the left side, but now she gawps, "Spencer, you got a new phone?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?" He already looks mildly annoyed at the teasing, probably because he'd stubbornly stuck to his outdated mobile for so long that his pride has an iPhone-shaped bruise.

"What made you make the change?" Hotch asks, voice gentler but curious all the same.

"Yeah, I've been begging you for, like, years, Reid." Garcia frowns, "Texting me isn't really texting me if I can't send you gifs from the gif keyboard."

"She favors the one of the dancing baby," Rossi drawls, "But I'm sure that's not what Dr. Reid felt compelled to upgrade for."

The notification that's displayed across his screen is a message from you, but that's predictable because he'd adamantly refused to get notifications from anything but text messages and calls. He's still partial to his newspapers, and he won't fill an online grocery cart if he can help it.

'Y/N: Attachment: 1 image'

There's not much he can see from the little thumbnail to the right of the notification, but- it's enough. It's the color of your skin, mostly the color of your skin, with splashes of red in between. He knows he can't open it now, and he wishes he had just a little more experience with situations like this so that he could maintain some composure.

"Uhm," He starts, cheeks most likely bright pink, "I don't know, I just- I just thought it was time, probably. Y/N says she didn't like that my messages were green."

"Oh, it's Y/N," Morgan croons, and JJ consoles Garcia with a sympathetic smile and a pat to the arm.

"Well-! And, and it's good for the GPS, but I do still prefer paper maps," Spencer rambles, "And it's- it's nice to see how many literary-themed emailing lists there are."

"Emailing lists," Morgan scoffs, "Pretty boy, you're signing up for spam. But whatever text has got you blushing there isn't about Shakespeare. Just let me know when you need a lesson in taking your own pictures, m'kay? She doesn't want weird angles or bad lighting, trust me."

[inkandpaintsnowleopard]

Lol imma answer ALL of these like prev

Prepare for how depressing my mind is without tone indication

Yes. Very. Too good lowkey. If I leave their care I’ll instantly die

I never say that to anyone except my parents sooooo probably one of them I don’t remember who though

One time I broke a clay figure that I loved out of anger because I thought it’d be cinematic to carry that guilt but like. Man I really loved that thing. Among other petty things lol

Hell yeah I’m on Tumblr

Me and my Cyn plush are doing great thanks

Poetically

Toast

Pffft no

No, I rip them apart

………never? Idk I playfought some kids recently

As if I know, maybe?

Thankfully not yet

No

Everyone all the time. Babysitters I’ve had. Pets. Etc etc

DOG

✨sick or something✨

No??? Is that real?

Relatively. Like I love them but I ain’t holding one

Yes.

My dreams (never)

Birfday

YES, probably two, because that’s the optimal number

No, I fear stabbing

English, art related stuff

Oh I didn’t see this one before answering 14. Same answer

Toast (procrastinating on making some rn)

Hopefully not?

No

No. Well- A as in a random one? Probably still no but actually idk

MY GODDAMN THROAT

That’s what they all SAY… still prepared to survive if they turn on me though lol

gween /ref

oh. Does 31 answer that

@catnum6 actually. There were two copies of you and I was like “who’s this other person???”

I don’t remember

Lowkey yeah

Forgive I think, only cause for some reason I can’t hate anyone

It’s part of my Arc

That ≥ current age Who knows

I don’t think?? rest in piece 40-49 lol

51. Toast 52. Life is ultimately meaningless 53. Listened to an EPIC SONG 54. Unless you have a REALLY understanding partner; generally no but I’d say it’s probably a case by case basis 55. I hope not 56. 0 57. Eh, love is an illusion but it’s a fun one 58. RAIN AND SNOW 59. YES 60. If I meet the right chemical illusion 61. I mean no one has but I’d likely prefer something else 62. People taking an interest, people living their lives 63. Probably not, I actually quite like my name 64. Huh?? 65. Depends on which friend it is; some I’d just be like “huh ok thanks” and some I’d actually be interested in seeing where this goes 66. No 67. I mean without doxxing anybody, This One Guy I Know 68. Probably my dad, we do that a lot 69. Fictionally yes, in real life no 70. No one real

OKAY CE LA VIE, GO BE KIDS, GO HAVE FUN /ref

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[kneelbeforeclefairy]

What I think is most different and most striking about Sunrise on the Reaping is how CYNICAL it is. To some extent we knew it was going to be. This is a midquel. That the reapings go on and the Hunger Games only ends 25 years later is a forgeon conclusion. We know nothing that happens here is going to work.

The book is about implicit submission, and why, with numbers on their side, the many submit to the few, even when the few are unjust. And it's because, the book seems to say, numbers aren't ENOUGH. the Newcomers alliance is much bigger than the Careers. They should be able to team up and defeat them easily. But they don't. Eighteen of them are killed outright, because the Careers have the strength, the skill and the training. And that's just that.

Plutarch asks why the tributes don't overwhelm the Peacekeepers during training, and Haymitch is rightfully outraged at the privilege of this question. Why don't they? Because they probably couldn't kill them all, and even if they could, what good would it do? It wouldn't stop the Hunger Games. It wouldn't change a thing. No one would even know about it outside that room, because the Capitol would change the narrative. Just like Katniss and the Star Squad can't REALLY take on the Capitol single handed and assassinate the president, the scrappy alliance of kids can't really do any real damage to the system the Capitol has in place. All they can do is choose if they want to die now or later. So why don't they, if there's no difference to them, as Plutarch asks. Because, as Snow puts it. Hope. The slight chance that one of them will come out of it. And, more cynically, the hope that if they are good tributes and obey, their families will be left alone. If they choose to rebel and choose to die now they guarantee retaliation against their families and perhaps their entire district. We see that even in the tributes that attack the Gamemakers in the arena. They rise up, they break that bond of implicit submission--and they die bloody for it.

Why don't they rebel? Because they don't have the privilege to lose.

Even Lenore Dove, the Joan of Arc of Twelve, fails to do any real damage or have any real effect. All she does is get herself a reputation for being a trouble maker, and eventually get herself killed. Was she killed as part of the retaliation against Haymitch, or was her punishment because she's a rebel, and that's what happens to rebels? (and Snow hates covey girls.) but she fails because she IS alone. She focuses on small, symbolic acts that do nothing, but that she hopes will rally the people to action.Unfortunately, the people of Twelve don't want their lives to get any worse, and they don't have the privilege of spending time and energy on revolution the way a teenager girl whose family doesn't need her income to survive does--sadly, Twelve will remain this way, in an uncanny valley where they're beaten down enough to need change, but not enough to have NOTHING to lose. They are not one of the districts that rise up. So acting alone does nothing, teaming up does nothing. How does one fight an enemy with better technology, better weapons, and better organization? Beetee's plan doesn't work out. Of course it doesn't. Could it ever? Was it just borne out of grief for his son? And even if it had, then what? What was the plan? Haymitch's poster gets edited away. The Newcomers fail. Lenore Dove dies. The most you can say is Haymitch himself becomes too important to kill, like Beetee, and Snow let him live to fight another day, but so destroyed that he no longer WANTS to.

So, then, what WORKS?

The answer is, quite cynically, Plutarch's version of the world. Numbers mean something, there are more of US than there are of THEM , but that isn't enough. You need weapons, you can't bring a knife to a gun fight, you need EVERYONE on your side. You need organization, not just a series of disconnected rebellions, and you need an Army, provided by Thirteen, as problematic as they are. The timing just needs to be right. And most crucially, what I think Plutarch and everyone involved here learned is that victory belongs to those who control the narrative. Those who control the flow of information and tell their story. And it's not Plutarch, for all his cameras and his propos and his idea behind The Mockingjay, who eventually does that well.

It's Haymitch.

Who learned to tell a story and sell a narrative with himself and the Newcomers. Who tried to paint his poster in the arena only to see it rewritten in front of him. Who won't make that mistake again. When it's time for the deciding factor in the revolution, it's Haymitch who creates the Mockingjay-- and is he also using Katniss and her image? Yes. but he at least sees Katniss and the human she is inside it, unlike Plutarch who hasn't changed much from the man who makes a grieving family do reshoots over and over so he can get his footage, while congratulating himself for letting Haymitch have his goodbye.

When Katniss sets off the spark twenty five years later, the world is ready. The work is in place. Plutarch, Haymitch, Beetee, everyone can say GO , and this time it'll work. So buckle in, and wait for the Long Game, even though only Plutarch really has the privilege to wait, the rest of them don't have a choice. It's cynical. It's awful. People die. The lone rebels and the plucky girls and the alliance depending on its numbers all fail. Plutarch motherfucking Heavensbee, the richest of the rich the privilegedest of the privileged, pulls off the revolution, takes the credit, and lives to see the end of it, without ever once examining his own privilege, and unpacking the fact that despite his head being on the right side of history, he's never managed to see the Districts as PEOPLE . (and you could argue, ANYONE as people. ) But it's just the only way.

But this book isn't the middle of the series. It's the end. How awful would it be to read if we didn't know that Katniss and the Mockingjay rebellion would eventually succeed. We know that despite the cynism of a failed revolution and all its players, that one day it WILL work out. This book is called sunrise on the Reaping....the sun rises on a world where this is inevitable. But one day it won't be.

[softtdaisy]

need your touch / Aaron Hotchner

summary. Hotch didn’t realize he developed an aversion to being touched until he became touch-starved.

words count. 2 776

what to expect. kind of grumpy x sunshine, very sad, mention of foyet and the attack, but very sad

a/n. I had this idea reading a book and I felt so sad about the man suffering from that, that of course I wanted to do with Hotch too so here it is

criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

The shivers. The disgust. The sudden need to wash his skin.

Hotch didn’t realize he developed an aversion to being touched until it was too late.

It wasn't until he actually became touch-starved that he realized this. 

The first time he realized something might be wrong was after a case. One that they all thought would take days but was surprisingly done after a few hours. After they finished packing, Rossi walked behind him. “Well done,” he congratulated Hotch by patting his shoulder. 

He had a slight and unconscious movement of recoil. Something Rossi didn’t notice, already focused on someone else. But something that stayed in Hotch’s mind and didn’t leave him. 

Soon, he realized how every little moment where he was touched by somebody else made him feel sick. 

He had to fight against the need to run to the bathroom after shaking hands with anybody.

He started avoiding every form of affection from the team, not that they were numerous but still present.

And if after his divorce with Haley, Hotch stopped the whole dating process, the idea of being intimate with someone became a real anxiety issue. Hands getting lost on his body, the feeling of lips leaving wet marks on his skin… this was too much for him. So much so that he didn’t even know how to get over this now.

And with months spent staying away from any type of physical contact, he started to feel the consequences on his mental health. He was the one avoiding it, but in his mind, the idea of being repulsive started to grow.

The thing was, he knew exactly where it came from. 

It could have been “the best part” of this if he could find a way to fight against it.

But it was definitely the “worst part” of this whole mess.

Because there was nothing he could do about the memory of almost dying in the hands of George Foyet. Every physical contact was a reminder of the worst night of his life. His brain ended up associating it with the feeling of dying. Again and again.

If he had been feeling better, he probably would have found it funny that the universe decided to put you in his life at the exact moment he was starting to lose it.

Just like that, one day, when he arrived in the meeting room, you were there next to Penelope.

“Let me introduce you to the most amazing little fairy you will ever meet,” she said, her hands on your shoulder like a proud mom. Which, of course, caused some laughter from the team. Not that they doubt you could be some kind of fairy, especially if you were the one Penelope chose to work with her. 

“As you know,” she pursued, “I asked to have another pair of hands to help me, and so here is my little ray of sunshine.” 

“Ok,” you laughed, patting her hand gently. “I think we can stop with the cute nicknames; they got the idea.” 

The whole time you spent explaining what your job would be, basically supporting Penelope in her office but also going more on the field with the team to be the connection between them and her, Hotch never stopped looking at you.

Penelope was right: you were a pure ray of sunshine. You lighted up the whole room in a way he forgot was possible after years of discovering the worst cases between these walls. You kept smiling and laughing, joking with Derek at his silly remarks and blushing when you heard Emily’s compliments on your hair. You were already a part of the team in less than five minutes.

And when you walked to him to shake his hand, he realized there was something even more special about you.

For the first time in months, he was able to touch someone else without feeling any disgust. It was even pleasing.

“Nice to meet you,” he said in a low voice, still in shock from the lack of reaction his body gave. He got lost in the beauty of your eyes when you looked at him. More than the color of them, which was straight from a painter’s palette for him, he found some peace in it. You didn’t know all the struggle he was going through. 

You were like an open door to something new. To feel like himself again.

Of course, it would have been too easy if he could have just started to feel at ease next to you and put his touch revulsion away in a flash. 

Hotch was still the boss, and you were working for him. If he were being as responsible as he felt he had to be, he would put a respectful distance between the two of you. He couldn’t be there, longing for your touch.

But, without meaning to, you were making things way harder for him.

You were the affectionate type. And soon the team learned that they couldn’t escape your overflowing need to have physical contact with them to show your appreciation. Even Spencer, who made it clear from the start that he wasn’t comfortable with this type of affection, ended up asking for some of yours. 

Like the high five when the team progressed in the case, the handholding—or grabbing, in your case—for the person next to you in the plane or the comforting touch when you felt like one of them needed it. A hand on the shoulder, a squeeze on the arm, your fingers patting your thighs softly when a meeting was going wrong, or even a hug when it was necessary. It was a normal habit for you, and soon it became one for the team too.

You weren’t sure Hotch was appreciating it though. He was your boss, and for obvious reasons, you tried to keep a distance so you wouldn’t get fired for sexual harassment. But if you felt like some of them barely needed your affection—yet, still appreciated it—like Emily or Derek, and some truly loved having you around, like Penelope, there was something different with Hotch.

That man was the incarnation of sadness, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

The first time you overpassed your feelings about it was during a case involving children. The meeting with the sheriff went terribly wrong, and Hotch, who always seemed so calm and composed, let his anger out when he got up. Slamming the chair against the desk and closing the door just as hard. 

You didn’t hesitate a single second before running after him. “Hotch!” you yelled, a little louder than intended since people turned around. Well, most did, except for the one concerned. You had to run after him outside to finally be able to grab his arm. “Oh god, I’m not trained for this stuff,” you said, out of breath. 

He stayed silent. Still in shock that you went after him. Still in shock that your touch didn’t make him feel sick. Once again. He even found some comfort in the way your thumb was naturally brushing his wrist; he could feel your tenderness even through the tissue of his shirt.

“Are you ok?” you asked before laughing. “I’m stupid; of course you’re not. But…can I do anything?” 

Hotch was impressive for many, many reasons. He was your boss, sure. He was older than you; it was a fact. But he was terribly and undeniably handsome. It wasn’t easy to be in front of him most of the time. But right now, alone in the street, facing his eyes that were leaving your face and his deep silence, it was even harder.

“Can I offer you a hug? Maybe?” Your voice was so low that you were convinced he didn’t hear you. Which was probably for the better. You could live with the idea of missing the opportunity because you didn’t speak loud enough. Less with the idea that he deliberately ignored you.

But soon, you watched his movement as he made a step towards you. As his arms opened up before closing against your body. As his head is buried in your neck. It took you a second to react, and you held him tight against you. Your hand went to his back to caress it slowly. 

You wondered when was the last time he experienced a comforting hug.

Hotch knew it had been roughly a year. 

The following weeks, you noticed Hotch took some distance with you. You’d like to say he did it again, but the truth was you don’t think he was doing it deliberately before the hug. Now he was doing everything to not be close to you.

It was late at night when your bell rang. The camera on your phone immediately gave you the image of the man standing in front of your door. A tall man with dark hair and a dark coat that you knew well since these days have been cold and it was your boss’ favorite.

You didn’t question Hotch's presence at your door until you opened it and were met by his sad figure. “This has to stay between us,” he immediately said in a hoarse voice. And before knowing what this was about, you nodded. You had the feeling you couldn’t refuse what he was asking for. 

You watched as he entered your apartment. As he took off his coat, putting it on a hanger and hanging it on the coat rack in precise movements. Like he repeated it in his head many times to make sure everything went smoothly. Or to reassure him that if he didn’t mess up here, it meant he was doing the right thing.

And you watched as he faced you, again, and went to your arms immediately. This one took you by surprise. You were used to being the one initiating the hug, not the one receiving it. Or, more exactly in this case, giving it without offering it in the first place.

Because Hotch wasn’t holding you. He was being held by you. More than that, he was holding onto you tightly, craving your touch. You could feel his fingers grabbing the thin tissue of your pajamas. Like he feared you might disappear any second. Fearing that he would lose the only person that made him feel good about himself again.

The hand you put on his back slowly moved to his neck, softly touching and caressing his skin. In any other moment, this was something that would have stressed him. Hotch always felt sensitive in this part of his body. He used to love being touched there, but after these past months, the idea of someone else's hand here was impossible to conceive. But here he was, longing for your touch. Hoping you never stopped.

And when you leaned back, he was glad that your hand didn’t leave its place. “Let’s sit so we can talk, ok?” you offered in a whisper. It seemed right to grab his hand at that moment to guide him, as if your apartment wasn’t small enough that your living room was more than apparent from the door.

You found it funny, once you both settled in your vintage sofa, how you looked like two opposites. You are in your pajamas, far from the professional outfit you wore all day. While Hotch was still in his suit, it looked like his day had just started. 

Except for the tired eyes and the exhausted expression. You knew it wasn’t even caused by work; you had a very casual office day. Maybe that was the saddest part. How life has exhausted him to a point of no return.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, suddenly realizing that maybe you should give him the chance to decide instead of imposing an explanation. 

At first, Hotch didn’t reply. His eyes were still on your hand holding his, how little it looked compared to his big fingers. There was something almost fragile in his behavior, how he looked smaller, trying to disappear in your cushion. 

And so, you started to talk for him. You told him what you did when you got home, what you ate, and what you watched during dinner. Trying to keep his mind entertained. And since you had the habit of speaking with your hands, you kept playing with his fingers or hitting his thigh. 

“You’re the first person that can touch me,” he finally said after hearing one of your silly facts about burning your soup the other day. But his revelation didn’t ruin the mood. Sure, you weren’t laughing anymore, neither was he—even if he didn’t truly laugh, simply giggling. But the way you turned to him, your knee falling on his lap and your hands grabbing his in a protective way, he felt at ease. 

Hotch couldn’t look at you when he told you about Foyet, what happened that night, the stabs, and how he actually remembered everything compared to what he said to the others. But he was still looking at your hands. “After that, I realized that the idea of being touched was frightening. I just couldn’t handle it and avoided it at any cost. The feeling of someone else’s skin on mine was just…” He didn’t finish his sentence, closing his eyes at the memory of the sickness it used to give him. 

When you stopped brushing his skin with your thumb, he put his hand on top of yours. “But not you,” he continued, looking up at you. “Being touched by you is like an antidote. I can’t explain it.” 

Now that you were thinking about it, you realized that more than once you saw Hotch step back to not be touched by anyone. Something you never paid more attention to. You weren’t a profiler, not like the team. So you didn’t question his freeze when someone approached him, the tension in his jaw when he had to shake hands, or that the only person he sat next to on the plane was Spencer, the one that wouldn’t touch him without permission. 

“I don’t want to escape your touch.” He said after a long pause. You could tell from his eyes that it wasn't easy for him to say those things. “I need it.” 

This sounded like a confession. It was actually the first time that Hotch acknowledged that more than accepting your skin on his, it became a necessity. An urge to be touched by you. And feel alive. 

“What are you asking me, Aaron?” You asked. You were confused about the situation. “I’m happy to help, and I would have understood if you had asked me to stop being this affectionate with you because it makes you feel uncomfortable. But here…”

Something changed in his eyes; you could see it. And before you could understand, Hotch was up and already walking to your door. “I’m sorry. This was inappropriate.”

Running after your boss in your pajamas and slippers was not on your to-do list today. So you grabbed his wrist, but when you tried to pull him close to you, he stopped at the same moment. And so you fell against his chest. Naturally, one of his hands went on your back to secure your body. You did the same, putting a hand on his chest. 

It was hard to ignore the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other. “I want to help you,” you said in a low voice, like a secret you wanted to keep between you. “I’ll gladly do it.” 

Something softened in his body when he couldn’t find the one thing he was convinced people had for his behavior. Judgment. Hotch had been convinced that anyone was judging him. And maybe some did, for what he knew.

You didn’t. All he could see was a comprehensive look and a will to do right. 

“But I need you to guide me,” you added. Slowly, you went for his other hand, held it, and brought it to his chest. 

You stayed like that. Skin to skin, body to body. This moment lasted longer than all the physical contact Hotch had in the past months. And you could feel his fingers untighten slowly, just like most of his body. Accepting your embrace, your touch, your help. You even saw a little smile grow on his lips, very subtle but that meant so much.

Maybe Hotch died a few months ago. Maybe a little part of him had accepted it.

But now, he had the feeling that in between your hands, he could experience life again. And with your help, making it worth living.

Tag List: @kiwriteswords @monzabee (if you want to be in it, ask me and I'll be happy to add you x)

[partiallysame]

Ok i wanna talk about price's lil wife some more because im obsessed with it obviously

Ik a friend who often joke about getting a divorce for something stupid (her husband was ok with it, they just joke like that, like to make ppl concerned)

But like, imagine if reader does that. Like, oh- dirty laundry on the floor 🤨? Divorce. One dirty cup left in the sink? Divorce. Hogging the blanket? A bit too late te reply text? D I V O R C E.

Of course reader didn't actually mean it and probably giggled as it was said it but i feel like their reaction wont always be what reader expected

These are my fave types of jokes. Nothing like a good running bit

You weren’t even married yet the first time you said it. John brought you the wrong flavor coffee “so you want a divorce?” Was your reaction and suddenly he’s panicked. Looking around for the cameras that have to be recording his reaction. How fast and sincere he apologizes almost made you feel bad but after that he was in on the joke. He doesn’t want take out that night? Divorce. You don’t want to watch the game with him? Divorce. Forgot something on the shopping list? divorce for real. Now you have 3 other husbands. That means 3 times the causes for divorce. Price had been waiting for you to finally pull this joke on his men. He knew they’d panic just like he did the first time. Poor Kyle. He just had to be the one to mess up first. You had asked him to grab you a drink from the fridge when he went in the kitchen and he forgot. “Kyle I think we should get divorced.” Voice monotone and face serious. He is sprinting back to the fridge. He’s on his knees holding the drink out for you like that one knight holding a sword meme. He’s never been so sorry in his life. And now he’s in on the joke. Next is Sweet Innocent Johnny. Accidentally sat on the remote and changed the channel in the middle of your show (you had already seen this episode and it wasn’t even an exciting part). “Oop sorry love let me change it back” “Johnny I think we should get a divorce.” He’s crying. Literal tears pouring from his face. Snot dripping. How did that even happen so fast. Took an hour of you holding him and reassuring it was a joke for him to calm down. Mental note not to play this game with Johnny. Now lastly was Ever Stoic Simon. You were proud of your boys for keeping the joke a secret until you could get Simon too. He made steak and it was a little more rare than you had asked. “Simon I think we should get a divorce.” He turned to look at you and just stared for a moment before responding. “I understand. I’ll clean up and be out in an hour.” Immediately started packing up his things. WAIT for Christ sake Simon it was a joke. Now you’re the one crying like Johnny did. Simon then got a talking to from the rest of the group even tho he still wasn’t sure what he did wrong. “Can’t just leave the missus, Riley!” “It’s what the missus said to do!!”

[actyl]

cw. they make out.

her face was still flushed from the argument. it wasn’t the first one—god knew it wouldn’t be the last one—but for some reason, this one had just gone too far.

heat roared beneath her skin in a way that made her head pound. sweat clung to her hairline, beads threatening to slide down the back of her neck. she could feel it steaming off her skin as her anger burned hotter, searing through her veins, setting in her bones.

her scowl twisted deeper, muscles pulling taut until her jaw ached and cheeks throbbed from the strain. every breath felt like stroking a first: sharp, shallow, scalding. her chest heaved as she took in breath after breath, but it still wasn’t enough to cool the fury coiled inside her, something nearly suffocating.

“you should go,” her voice was low and tight.

“you’re not serious.” he scoffed, taking a step back in disbelief. “you’re gonna throw me out just ‘cause i proved you were wrong?”

“this isn’t about that.” she shot back, arms crossed in defense, completely guarded.

“it’s about you being completely impossible. always picking a fight, always pushing like you’re trying to pick a fight.”

“well,” his voice was smooth, the smile on his face dangerous. “you just make it so easy—”

“god, you’re so insufferable.”

“i know.” yet his smile, sharp and triumphant, never disappeared. she was used to his cocky demeanor, the teasing that lived permanently on his lips. but his eyes were different—something darker, something warmer—something that made her stomach churn. every hair on her body stood up, like she knew danger was coming.

“you just love to show up like you know everything—like you’re just waiting for me to fail so you can swoop in and prove you’re better.” she snapped.

he chuckled, an exhale more than a sound, stepping closer.

“please,” his voice was sharp. “i don’t need to wait for you to fail, you make that part pretty easy all on your own.”

she clenched her fists at her side, breaths shallow as hos words stung deeper than she’d like to admit. his smirk only added salt to her wounds, the way he stood, so effortlessly self-assured. she was used to this, his arrogance, but she’d never seen him push her buttons so purposefully.

“is that what you think?” her voice trembled with a mix of frustration, irritation, and something she couldn’t quite place.

his head tilted, smirk growing wider as he took a step closer. he could feel the heat radiating off her, her skin just a few inches away from his own. there was something in the way he looked at her, a knowing glint in his eyes that made her blood run hot in ways she’s always hated.

“i don’t think you want me to show you up,” he clarified, voice barely above a whisper. “but we both know you wouldn’t mind if i did.”

her eyes narrowed. “you love to think you’re better than me, don’t you? like you’ve got everything figured out, like you’ve got nothing better to do than look down on me.”

he met her glare, unflinching, the tension between them palpable. for a moment, they just stood there, her words hanging heavy between them before he broke the silence.

“it is pretty amusing seeing you like this. but don’t lie—deep down, you like this. you like the challenge.”

his gaze was intense, she took a step back and he took another step forward, maintaining the distance. “we’ve been at each other’s throats for so long, you’d probably miss it if i wasn’t here.”

her breath caught in her throat, the air felt thick, a knife wouldn’t be enough to cut the tension between the two. heat built up with every word; she wanted to scream at him, but he was right. she would miss it, and some part deep inside her knew she would miss him, as insufferable as he was.

“we’re supposed to hate each other.”

“supposed to.” she was suddenly aware of how close he was, too close. his presence felt overwhelming, and she struggled to maintain her composure even as her pulse quickened. his cologne tickled her nose, clinging to the air—something sharp and clean. it made her head spin.

she wanted to step back, to create some distance, but her feet felt rooted to the floor. the way he looked at her, the maddening intensity of his gaze made the world disappear.

“i don’t think either of us know what we’re supposed to do anymore,” he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a quiet challenge daring her to admit what they both knew.

she swallowed hard, she could hear her heartbeat as her heart threatened to jump out of her chest. she opened her mouth to say something, anything—to push him away, but any words she could muster up caught in her throat.

instead, she stood there, staring at him, her mind a chaotic swirl of what they were, and what they weren’t supposed to be.

she didn’t expect it—didn’t know how it happened—but suddenly, his mouth was on hers, hard and demanding. it was messy and heated and too much; it was all teeth and heat, clashing of frustrated breaths, as if neither of them could hold back any longer. she gasped against him, the intensity of the kiss stealing the air from her lungs, making her knees weak beneath her.

his hands were on her, one on her waist, one threading through her hair, pulling her closer until she was pressed against him. the way he kissed her felt desperate, almost angry—as if he was trying to prove something to her, or perhaps to himself.

it was like fighting and surrender all at once—like neither of them could decide if they were given in or trying to win.

their lips found a steady rhythm, molding into each other. his grip on her waist was firm, fingers digging deep enough to leave her dizzy, like he was grounding her and setting her on fire all at once. her hands fisted in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan into her mouth—a low sound that sent a shiver down her spine.

his hand slid from her waist to her back, she was sure if they pressed against each other any closer they’d become one. it felt as if they couldn’t get enough of each other—like every sharp word, every bitter stare they’d shared had all been building to this.

“i hate you.” she gasped between kisses, breathless and burning.

“i know,” he murmured, “i hate you, too.”

“you’re impossible.”

she could feel his grin against her lips as he kissed her again—deeper, slower kiss, like he knew exactly how much it would unravel her.

“you love it.”

mikey sano, takashi mitsuya, shinichiro sano, KISAKI TETTA, rindou haitani, RAN HAITANI / yuji terushima, TETSURO KUROO, tooru oikawa, hajime iwaizumi, akaashi keiji / EDWARD ELRIC, roy mustang / tomura shigaraki, TOUYA TODOROKI, KEIGO TAKAMI / JASON TODD, tim drake, damian wayne, DICK GRAYSON / shin asakura, YOICHI NAGUMO / EREN YAEGER, jean kirstien, armin arlert

actyl -> do not copy or repost my works

[matchatarot]

My dear Bunny, this reading is all about the community you’re attracting at the moment. Who are you energetically manifesting and who’s manifesting you? To pick a pile don’t overthink it; choose the one that draws you in the most while thinking about the reading’s intent. Only take what resonates! & Don’t forget that you have free will, you’re not forced to accept anyone in your life if you don’t see fit. Love, Matcha ♡

☆ masterlist

Pile 1 ₊˚.༄

You’re attracting people you’ve been manifesting since a child, the friendships you’ve been dreaming of. You’re also attracting old friends from childhood or people you’ve been in school with want to comeback to you, possibly some people with whom you had a falling out a long time ago but from whom you still cherish good memories. The type of people you’re attracting are successful and reliable. They’re young and if not they’re in spirit! They’re very smart level-headed people, the type of people that pursue knowledge no matter their life situation, they’re humble. They’re confident in their unique qualities and their aura is powerful. They’re also understanding and loving, they truly care about the people around them and the spirit of community. The people you’re attracting don’t shy away from emotions, they’re empathic. These individuals have a sensitivity that make them highly aware of any shift in moods of the people around them. The reason why they’re so attentive to others emotions is because they’ve been through some trauma that heightened their perceptions of other’s vibrations. The friends you’re attracting are well-liked, they’re social and fun. The collective you’re drawing towards you are really similar to you energetically, they’ve had a similar life story to you, and when you meet them you’ll notice how you mirror each other in your mannerism. With your energy you’re pulling in artists, artisan creators and creative people over all. The people you’re attracting went through a major transformation at some point in their life and they’ll never be the same anymore. If you decide to let these people enter your life, they’ll totally change the way you see life and vice versa. You’ve probably been good to the people around you because you’re getting your good karma with these people. I see that you’ve been yearning for relationships like these ones and that a recent spiritual awakening you went through is making them come in faster. To attract this wonderful collective continue following your heart. Trust that this is for you and do not dwell on your social or romantic life if it’s not what you want for yourself right now. Understand that you’re the one that has the power to move in their direction by following your intuition and that growing relationships needs action on your part. Work on your discernement when you meet people, observe their shadow side for any alarming red flags. If after your assessment you realize that someone from your past might have done the necessary work, let yourself consider letting them in again, especially if it’s been years.

The year of the dragon in the Chinese zodiac might be relevant to this pile; 1988, 2000, 2012, 2024.

2, 333, 10, unicorn, deer, owl, 417hz

↳ book a personal reading with me on ko-fi ★

Pile 2 ⊹˚˖ ☆

The people you’re attracting in your life will bring you an happiness that you’ve once thought you didn’t deserve. You seem like you’re someone that can be pretty hard on yourself but the people you’re attracting will help you heal that. You might feel like you’re not quite in your element right now, doing a job you don’t wanna be doing, going to school with people that don’t understand you, having a style completely different then other people that share similar interests etc. You’re manifesting people that are similar from you in that sense and with them you’ll realize that you can create a sense of home in any environment as long as you’re comfortable in your skin. This realization will make you see how you’re actually very flexible and this community also is! The group of people you’re attracting have a powerful aura. They really have a go-getter quality to them; finding opportunities everywhere they go and being able to be quick and jump on those opportunities. However, they can be very chill and sweet at the same time with their clan, looking out for any danger but not being too intense or alarming when there’s no need. You’re manifesting people that will feel fated for you, you’re manifesting a group of friends that will lowkey feel cult like because the friendship will feel so sacred. You’re manifesting people that have a lot of knowledge that goes beyond what school teach you, like having knowledge in the occult, in history, skills that are evolving in real time (like producing, dj, any computer stuff, new scientific studies) etc. You’re attracting people that refuse to bend to the status-quo and that want to create their own path in life! You might meet these people in the city, they’d rather live a fast entertaining city life to be honest. You’re manifesting people that dive headfirst in solving their issues instead of being avoidant. They might be workaholic but it’s just because their building the foundation of their life and they can’t wait to impact the world with their findings, art, craft or whatever it is! If you’re in a period of your life where you want to evolve and find who you are and start taking actions towards what you want, you’re manifesting the right people for that. However! You’re attracting an other type of people as well that in the outside can seem similar but that aren’t as well intended. The first group of friends and acquaintances I talked about could attract a lot of … fans? There’s people that will want to integrate this because it’s so high vibrational but that are actually here to sabotage the people doing better than them. You’ll recognize these individuals because they’ll try to make you go back into vices you’ve let go off (partying, drugs, cigs, etc), they won’t really believe in your plans and they’ll flake on you when you need them. This is just a little warning about these kind of people that could create drama in this friend group, you know it can’t always be sunshine and rainbows! These people might already be part of your life and you’ll maybe sacrifice them for the group you’re manifesting right now. Anyways, you’re protected by your guides and you’ll have good discernment. The good people will see through it as well. The right people you’re attracting will make you feel so warm and happy, like summer all year long! You’ll help each other blossom in your authentic self and it’s gonna feel so ethereal and surreal because they will let you be who you always were deep inside out in the open!

blood moon, 3, 44, 55, 10, leopard, hummingbird

↳ book a personal reading with me on ko-fi ★

Pile 3 ‧₊˚ ♡

It seems like you have been consciously manifesting new people in your life, Bunny! I think you’re tired of making compromises in relationships and you wish to meet people that view the world like you. That’s what you’ve been wanting and that’s what you’ll get! You’re getting it pretty soon as well. You’ll meet people that match your strength, that are courageous and loving leaders. You’re attracting people that are really good at holding conversation, people that are really interesting but also interested. You’re attracting people that are considered as popular in their social circle and that are seen as attractive. They’re the type of people that are aware of their good features and they highlight them. The friends you’re attracting are the type of people that bring love and joy into the world, others are easily influenced by them because of their positive vision. You’re attracting friendships that are healing, helpful and loyal. However, they can be vicious to their enemies, luckily they don’t seem to have many, they just don’t have patience for anyone opposing their good vibes. That’s a little bit hypocritical I am not gonna lie, the shadow aspect of the people you’re attracting is that they seem to care about what others think of them, making them a bit superficial at times. Let’s not judge them though, we all have our shadow side, and I wouldn’t want to be too rough because they seem to be connections from past lives you’ve had. I think you are also attracting romantic interests and if so they might be a loverboy/lovergirl or someone that had a lot of relationships. The friends you’re attracting also have a lot of friends. Yet, when you’ll meet these people you’ll feel so pulled to them like you’ve always been searching for that feeling, when you’re having conversations it seems like you already know each other so deeply! You might be sexually attracted to them initially, even if it doesn’t end up becoming a romantic connection, I think it’s because it’s going to feel so intense … Haven’t you ever felt like you’re a little bit in love with your best friend, Bunny? Something like that. You also might actually end up falling in love with someone that starts off as a friend. The energy is just so strong, the union of this group is really positive for the collective, you guys will bring a lot of love and light into the world together. There’s a big potential of building a strong supportive peaceful community here. You’re manifesting people that are gonna make you feel comfortable in your skin… even though meeting them will make you go through a major shift and completely shed the old skin. You might travel with them or meet them while traveling! You’re manifesting people that are very independent and emotional. The people you’re manifesting can be a bit impatient and overwhelmed, maybe they have anxiety, so be careful about how you talk to them so to not hurt them, that could impact the connection and it goes both ways. You’re going to be vulnerable with them and they’re going to be vulnerable with you, sharing things you’ve never shared with anyone before, so you must be patient with them and yourself for everything to go smoothly.

2, 3, 7, 8, tiger eye, lotus, beetle, dolphin

↳ book a personal reading with me on ko-fi ★

decks used for this reading : modern witch tarot deck by Lisa Steele, animaux totems by Else Oreve & Pricilla Moore, art oracles by Katya Tylevich, modern witch tarot deck by Lisa Steele, oracle of heaven and hell by Travis McHenry

★ photo credits go to their rightful owner ★

[sixty-silver-wishes]

okay so I was scrolling through the notes because like, it's nearly 3 am and I'm genuinely sort of fascinated by this. are people actually upset about pluto being classified as a dwarf planet? I always thought the "vitriol" around that was like, a joke thing. like, people aren't really angry over pluto; are they? they just like having a fun and harmless thing to argue over, like pineapple on pizza. in casual parlance, it's polarizing, but like, in a silly way where you get to spar with people over something that doesn't matter too much. everyone knows pluto is just a rock millions of miles away. but it's fun to imagine it being sad, right? we're humans; we like projecting ourselves onto stuff. that's what we do. but we're not actually serious about all that, are we?

and then I saw this comment that sorta made things click. once I read it, I was like, "huh. maybe people are taking this more seriously than I thought."

so, dinosaurs probably had feathers and body fat. that makes sense, and they're finding more evidence to prove it. but I've seen actual anger over this information. people are genuinely upset that their cool jurassic park dinosaur fantasies have been shattered by images of like, giant chickens or whatever. there are even some weirdos who have made this into a masculinity thing. suddenly, it's "woke" to... reevaluate dinosaur biology based on new evidence? they're... emasculating the dinosaurs by making them look less manly? or something? can a reptile be manly?

but like, then I considered how these things are part of the cornerstone of many people's introductions to scientific concepts. when you're a kid, you're taught a song to memorize nine planets. you play with naked plastic dinosaurs. you begin to learn about the universe through concepts like these. you're taught that these are basic, unquestionable, objective truths. so then when something comes along to challenge them, people get defensive. pluto is a dwarf planet. dinosaurs probably had feathers. and you see this in a more serious application, too- some people will react the same way if they hear that there are more than two genders, for instance. that "basic biology" isn't so basic after all.

I'm not saying that thinking of pluto as a planet is some sort of pipeline to bigotry or whatever. but it does illustrate a certain rigidity people have when it comes to what they're taught, especially when it comes to science as an objective concept. but just because science is based in evidence doesn't mean that we can't find new evidence. and sometimes that ends up challenging old evidence. accepting that pluto is a dwarf planet means accepting something you were taught about science wasn't entirely true- that something came along to challenge it. and if something as seemingly basic as nine planets or naked dinosaurs or two genders can be disproven, then what else? what other fundamental truths will be called into question?

I don't know if this is a "school system bad" problem or a philosophy problem or a societal problem or what. but I can certainly see why the pluto thing might get people up in arms after all.

the internet is so awesome because it connects me to other autistic girls who have also spent a decade being really mad about people who cry and scream over Pluto not being classified as a planet anymore.

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae, you wrote a Spencer smut blurb a while ago about him helping reader speak up in the bedroom and at the end it mentions him using his handcuffs on reader. Just wondering if you would write a followup to that heheh 🌚

Thank you for requesting babe ;)

cw: smut mdni, bondage, slighttttt dom spencer but not really it's a collaborative effort haha

Spencer Reid x afab!reader ♡ 652 words

You make an involuntary whimpering sound. 

Spencer lifts his head to look at you. “You okay?” 

“Y…yeah.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Very sure.” 

Your boyfriend’s look softens. “Okay. Try not to sound so distressed, please? It makes me think you’re not having fun.” 

“Sorry.” You want to tell him that you’re not having fun, but you are, really. The bite of metal into your wrists is a welcome, if frustrating, restraint. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, sweetheart,” Spencer assures you, voice turning slow as he lowers his lips back to your shoulder. The brush of his knuckles against your inner thigh is enough to make another whimper rise in your throat. 

The handcuffs were your idea. You don’t think bringing work into the bedroom would have ever crossed Spencer’s mind, but your stomach had flipped excitedly when he’d locked them over your wrists. He was careful not to make them too tight, told you to say something if they started to rub your skin wrong, but you sort of enjoy the pressure of them each time you tug against the bed frame. 

Spencer’s curiosity is just as fervid in the bedroom as it is out. He takes his time with you, cataloguing each movement and sound. Your breath hitches, and he tilts his head, an academic. Scientific fingers explore every curve and bend. 

You’re seeping arousal from between your folds before he even gets there. 

“Spence,” you plead.

“Hm?” 

“Can you just—” You can’t say it. You know Spencer appreciates plain language, but you can’t make yourself. You push your hips up, hoping he gets the hint. 

He does. He smiles, the asshole. “Can you be patient? I’m getting there.” 

“Today?” 

“Okay, fine.” Spencer laughs as he pushes two fingers into you, their path slick and easy. You gasp in surprise. “Is this what you want?” 

“Please.” 

“I told you I was getting to it.” His voice gentles. He touches his lips to the side of your throat, fingers moving slowly in and out of you. Curling. Gently, so gently. “You know you do better when we build up to it.” 

You almost miss the days when Spencer was still shy around you. When sex made him nervous, when he didn’t know your body quite so well or feel so confident in how to make you tick. 

He’s right, of course. 

“I’m—ahh…”

“Yeah, I know.” Spencer kisses the flat of your chest. Doubtless feeling your erratic heartbeat. “You never like it when it’s happening, but you’re happy afterward. You’ll thank me.” 

It’s not violent, your undoing; Spencer takes you apart gently, with careful fingers, and then swallows the cry that escapes you like it’s his favorite flavor. 

Your wrists are lined with agitated circlets when he pushes into you. You’re well worked open by then. Time is lost to you. You gasp and roll your hips, desperate to grab him, your fists curling around nothing. 

“Hey.” Spencer’s thumb presses over your pulse, a barrier between you and the cuff. “Relax. Be careful with yourself.” 

His lips are parted, pupils blown but eyes soft with concern. You love him. It’s not the first time you’ve thought it, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve said it, but suddenly you feel it achingly, urgently, tearily. You love him you love him you love him. 

“Come here,” you beg him in as nice a voice as you can. 

Spencer listens, because he always listens to you, really, even when you’re all tied up and helpless and probably a little delirious. His mouth covers yours with reassuring warmth. 

“Still okay?” he asks, just to be sure. 

“Yes.” You press towards him, kissing his chin, his jaw, his sweaty cupid’s bow. “Oh my god, yes.” 

“Okay.” Spencer links his fingers through yours. Pushing you back, but staying close to you. You shudder at the contact. “We’re okay.” 

“Just stay here, please.” 

“Where do you think I would go?” 

[chogiwow]

the law of unintended consequences. | jake sim (part two)

→ posits that actions often have unforeseen and unanticipated effects, which may be positive, negative, or neutral, that are not part of the actor's original intent. PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

pairing: astrophysicist jake x assistant reader

genre: co-workers to lovers

wc: part 1 – 20k | part 2 – 17.3k

warnings: even more slowburn than before lol, topics of abandonment issues, jake has his first kiss, makeouts, some touching (that's as far as it goes), cheesy ass astronomy rizz :'D

a/n: part 2 finally here !!!! guys, i think i'll complete it in one more part, we haven't even got to the juicy parts, they're both still Realising their feelings for each other i'm really taking the slowburn to another level :'D posting this now since i have a busy weekend ahead and it'll take some time for the final part to come out, so enjoy <3

nine.

jake wasn't sure when he started noticing the small things.

it wasn't dramatic. it wasn't some grand realization, some epiphany that crashed into him like a runaway train. no, it was more like a slow leak in the ceiling – subtle at first, barely noticeable, until one day, he looked up and realized the whole thing was caving in.

you were still there. still at your desk. still doing your job. but something had changed.

for one, you no longer lingered.

before, you used to wait by his desk after reminding him of a meeting, hovering until he actually got up because you knew how prone he was to getting lost in his own head. you used to place his coffee just within reach of his right hand, knowing that he’d grab it without looking. you used to let out these small sighs when he worked through lunch, before eventually caving and placing a takeout container beside him with an exasperated, “at least eat before you starve.”

but now? now, you just told him his schedule and left. you still got his lunch, but it was left on the side of his desk, impersonal. you still reminded him about meetings, but you never waited for him to actually stand up. and the worst part? he knew it was because of him. because he had snapped at you. because he had made you feel like you had overstepped when, in reality, you were just doing what you had always done – taking care of him.

the guilt sat heavy in his stomach.

well, he had got what he had wanted, right? he had told you to stop caring, to make yourself scarce, and you were doing just that. you were back to being background noise again, the week before had probably just been a blip in time. maybe none of it had even happened – he hadn’t been late to his meeting, he hadn’t spent an entire evening with you sorting through his emails, he hadn’t brought you coffee like a delirious fool. he hadn’t snapped at you – acknowledged your efforts and put you down regardless.

there’s a law in physics, the law of unintended consequences.

jake had spent his life studying the rules that governed the universe. he had built entire theories on cause and effect, on how one action – one force – could change the course of everything around it. but there was a gap in every equation, an unpredictable variable that not even the most meticulous calculations could predict.

it was a rule he had known but never thought to apply to his own life.

and yet, here he was, watching as you followed the letter of his words but not the spirit. he had wanted distance. he had told you as much in sharp, thoughtless words. he had thought, idiotically, that space would bring things back to how they used to be.

instead, it had set something irreversible in motion.

at first, he told himself it was fine. he had bigger things to focus on, deadlines to meet, research papers to finalize. but the problem with noticing something was that you couldn’t stop noticing it. you were efficient, precise, the perfect assistant; exactly as you had been before.

except now, he felt the absence of you.

before, he never had to wonder if he’d make it to meetings on time. you would wait, standing by his desk with that look, the one that told him you knew he’d ignore you if you gave him even a second of leeway. but now? you simply reminded him and left. no hovering. no pointed sighs. no exasperated nudges to get moving.

and then there was the coffee.

it was a small thing, but jake noticed. before, the cup would be exactly where he needed it, always within reach of his dominant hand. a quiet, unconscious act of care. now? it was placed neatly at the edge of his desk, just out of immediate reach. he had to go out of his way to grab it.

it was ridiculous, the way these tiny details unsettled him.

he told himself it didn’t matter. that he had asked for this. that he shouldn’t be so thrown off by things he never even realized he relied on.

and yet.

he wasn’t sure what did it.

maybe it was the moment he saw you cleaning up a stack of files and, in your hurry, ran your hand along the sharp edge of a paper cutter. you barely reacted, shaking off the small drop of blood, about to move on like nothing happened. but something in jake stilled.

something made him sit still and watch like a creep through the crack of his door as you paused in your actions and moved your finger to your lips, gently sucking on the wound till the bleeding stopped.

it was such a small act. so innocent, something akin to a first aid, but his breath hitched. his breath hitched when his eyes tracked your actions, your hand going back to sorting through files, your wound long forgotten.

his body moved before his mind could catch up, his chair scraping against the floor as he stood.

for the first time in days, you actually looked surprised when he placed a bandaid in your palm instead of just tossing it onto your desk.

“you should be more careful,” he said, his voice coming out gruff, almost scolding.

you blinked at him, clearly thrown off, before your expression shuttered back into polite professionalism. “it’s just a small cut.”

jake clenched his jaw. he knew that. of course he knew that. but that wasn’t the point, was it?

still, you thanked him with a nod, applied the bandaid, and carried on like nothing had happened.

and that should have been the end of it.

but it wasn’t.

because jake, who had always been so good at solving problems, had stumbled upon one that didn’t fit neatly into any equation.

the unintended consequence of his distance wasn’t just that you stopped lingering. it was that he now felt like an observer in his own life, watching as something essential slipped away, and—

and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

jake had never been one to believe in regret. he made decisions, and he lived with them. he adjusted. he recalibrated. he hadn’t cared much when only his mom could make it to his annual school competitions, doing her best to cheer louder, to compensate for the missing person in his life. he hadn’t given two shits when people in high school had stared and pointed at him like he had been an anomaly. not when his overbearing aunts had disguised their praises for him as something he should inherently be able to do to make up for the absence of the person in his life.

he hadn’t wasted time pondering upon silly questions like ‘was i not enough?’ or ‘was i not lovable enough for him to stay?’.

even in his young mind, those had seemed futile questions, ones he would never have an answer to and therefore, not worth his time.

but now, he was finding himself staring too long at the empty space you used to fill. he was realizing that, for someone who prided himself on understanding the fundamental laws of the universe, he had overlooked the most important one.

he had always thought that if he pushed something away, it would eventually return to its natural place. like gravity pulling a comet back into orbit.

but now, he wasn’t so sure.

now he was actually questioning things – emotions, feelings, hurt.

had he hurt you?

but why would he care? why would he start now? why would you care about him to the point that you would let his ineptitude hurt you?

jake didn’t consider himself the kind of person who fixated on things. he was methodical, pragmatic, someone who could compartmentalize problems into neat little boxes and only open them when absolutely necessary.

but this?

this was a crack in the foundation he hadn’t accounted for.

he told himself it was fine – your distance, your absence, the way you had begun to retreat from him in increments so small he might not have noticed if he weren’t already looking for them. he told himself he had wanted this, and that it didn’t matter.

and yet.

jake found himself watching. noticing. keeping track of the subtle ways you had begun to slip from his periphery, like sand through his fingers.

before, he had always known where you were. even if he wasn’t actively looking, you were just there, orbiting around him in a way that felt natural, unshakable. but now? now, he caught himself scanning the office for you, only to realize you were nowhere nearby. it wasn’t that you weren’t working – you were still efficient, still meticulous, still the perfect assistant – but you were no longer his constant.

the worst part? he had no idea why it bothered him so much.

he kept trying to rationalize it, to shove the thought into a mental folder labeled irrelevant and move on. but it was harder than he expected.

because there were moments, tiny and fleeting, where he thought he caught glimpses of something deeper beneath your polite professionalism. a hesitation before answering him. the way your lips pressed together just slightly when he handed you a stack of papers without so much as a please or thank you. the way you never quite met his eyes for too long anymore.

it had been a series of choices, he realized. small, inconsequential decisions that had snowballed into something much bigger than he had ever intended.

like the way he had dismissed you, snapping at you in a moment of frustration. he hadn’t thought twice about it then – just another conversation, another fleeting exchange in the middle of an exhausting day. but the weight of it lingered, heavy and suffocating, because now he could see the ripple effect in real time.

he had thought pushing you away would return things to normal. instead, it had left him standing in the ruins of something he hadn’t even realized was important to him.

and the most frustrating part? he didn’t know how to fix it.

jake wasn’t used to being at a loss. he had built his life around solutions, around having the answers before anyone even knew there was a problem. but this? this wasn’t a puzzle he could solve with logic or calculations. this was different. this was messy and human and something he didn’t even fully understand himself.

so he did what he always did when faced with something he couldn’t control – he observed.

he started paying closer attention. he told himself it wasn’t because of you, not really, just a vague curiosity that had no deeper meaning. but then he noticed how you laughed more with others now. how you lingered in conversations with coworkers, how your shoulders relaxed when you weren’t around him.

it was disorienting, realizing that you had found ways to exist outside of him. that you had always been capable of doing so, but he had just never seen it before.

and maybe that was what unsettled him the most.

one afternoon, he caught himself staring at the untouched coffee on his desk. it had gone cold. the same coffee you had placed there earlier, just slightly out of reach, like an afterthought.

jake had always taken for granted that it would be there. he had never even considered the effort behind it, the simple, thoughtless care that had gone into something as small as placing it within easy reach.

but now, staring at the lukewarm liquid, he felt something uncomfortable twist in his chest.

he didn’t like it.

he didn’t like how things felt off-kilter. how he had let something slip between his fingers without even realizing what it was. he didn’t like how aware he was of your absence now, how much space you had unknowingly occupied in his life before you started retreating.

it was frustrating, this gnawing feeling of wrongness.

so he did something stupid.

“hey,” he said one evening, catching you just as you were gathering your things to leave.

you blinked at him, clearly surprised. “yes?”

he hesitated for a fraction of a second. he hadn’t actually thought this far ahead.

“i—” he cleared his throat. “did you—uh. did you send the reports to finance?”

your brows furrowed slightly. “yes. i emailed them over earlier.”

“right. okay.” he shifted, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. “thanks.”

you nodded, waiting for a beat. when he didn’t say anything else, you adjusted your bag on your shoulder. “alright. goodnight, dr. sim.”

and then you were gone.

jake exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. what the fuck was that?

that wasn’t what he had meant to say. it wasn’t what he wanted to ask. but the words had lodged themselves in his throat, heavy and unfamiliar.

because what had he wanted to say?

had he wanted to tell you he noticed? that he missed something he couldn’t even name? that for someone who prided himself on understanding the fundamental laws of the universe, he had failed to account for the one thing he should have seen coming?

gravity.

every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

he had pushed you away. and now, he wasn’t sure how to pull you back in.

jake sat back in his chair, staring at the empty doorway where you had just been.

he needed to fix this. he needed to rise up from his inability to form human bonds or interact like a normal functioning adult. he had never felt the need to do so before, but for once – he wanted to. at least try and make amends.

because  jake never meant to offend anyone, much rather put them down. but he had done, willingly so this time around. but he wasn’t so broken as to not hold on to the semblance of a decent human being and not apologise.

he needed to fix this. he just didn’t know how yet.

ten.

its 10:09 am when the phone on your desk rings.

your fingers hesitate for a second before picking it up, already half-expecting it to be a mundane request from another department. but the voice on the other end is unfamiliar.

“hello, this is dr. sim’s office, correct?”

you straighten slightly at the mention of jake’s name. “yes, this is his assistant speaking. how can i help you?”

the woman on the other end exhales, relief threading through her voice. “oh, thank god. i’ve been trying to reach him, but he’s not answering his cell. can you please tell him his mother is calling? it’s urgent.”

your breath stills. his mother? you’ve never spoken to her before, but something about the way she sounds – strained, worried – has your heart clenching instinctively.

“of course, ma’am. please hold for a moment.”

you press the receiver against your chest as you rise from your desk, walking toward jake’s office with quick steps. when you push the door open, you find him at his desk, eyes glued to his monitor, expression unreadable.

“dr. sim,” you say carefully. he barely glances up. “your mother is on the line.”

that gets his attention.

his head snaps up so fast it looks like it might hurt, and the second he sees your expression – neutral but carefully watching – something in his own face shifts. a split-second crack in his usual control.

his mother wouldn’t call the office unless something was wrong.

you see it the moment his mind catches up to the implication. his face goes pale, and he pushes back his chair roughly, standing so fast it scrapes against the floor.

“transfer it,” he says, voice clipped, but his hands are already trembling as he reaches for the phone on his desk.

you nod and return to yours, quickly pressing the button to connect the call. as soon as it clicks over, you hear his voice – lower now, tight with something close to dread.

“mom?”

you should turn away. you should focus on your work, give him the privacy he needs. but something keeps your gaze locked on him, even as you try not to make it obvious.

there’s a pause. then, whatever his mother says has the color draining from his face entirely.

his fingers clench around the phone. his jaw sets tight, lips parting slightly like he wants to say something, but no words come out.

then, finally, he exhales.

“when?” his voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it, a sharpness that makes your stomach twist.

another pause. then he nods, even though she can’t see him. “okay. i’ll be there.”

he hangs up.

for a moment, he just stands there, fingers still curled around the receiver like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. his head is slightly bowed, his shoulders tense.

and then he turns.

his eyes meet yours. and for the first time in a long time, you see something raw and unguarded in them. not frustration. not cold professionalism. something else entirely.

something that makes you forget, for just a moment, that things have been different between you. that there’s been an invisible wall between the two of you, made of everything unspoken.

“is everything—” you catch yourself. it’s not your place to ask. but the words are already out there. “is everything alright?”

he swallows. a muscle in his jaw jumps. he looks like he wants to say no. but he doesn’t.

instead, he exhales slowly, like he’s trying to ground himself. “i need to leave for a bit.”

“of course.” you hesitate, but then add, “do you need me to reschedule anything?”

he nods once, curtly. “yes. i’ll send you a list.”

the phone call had been brief – too brief for how he looked now. his face was pale, fingers twitching slightly at his sides as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. the usual sharp focus in his eyes was gone, replaced with something unsettled, something raw.

you had barely heard what he’d said when he hung up. just a quiet, clipped response before he set the phone down with unnatural care, as if it might shatter in his hands. then silence. a long, heavy silence that made you shift in your seat.

he’s already reaching for his coat, but the way he moves – it’s not the usual controlled efficiency he carries himself with. his hands are stiff, his grip on the fabric just a little too tight. like he’s barely holding himself together.

“…dr. sim?”

jake didn’t respond.

you hesitated, glancing toward the doorway of his office. no one else was around – just the two of you in this unsettling quiet. you had been ready to move on, to keep things professional, to pretend you weren’t still hyper-aware of the strange coldness that had settled between you both. but this? this wasn’t something you could ignore.

you took a step forward. “jake.”

his head snapped up.

it took you off guard, the way his gaze sharpened at the sound of his name. but then, just as quickly, the tension in his shoulders collapsed. his expression flickered – like a fault line deep underground, cracking beneath pressure.

you tried again, softer this time. “what happened?”

jake inhaled, but the breath barely reached his lungs. “it’s my mom.”

your stomach twisted.

you had remembered jake’s phone call with her a few days ago. how he had sounded so agitated back then. jake never spoke much about his family, but you knew enough to understand that she was important to him in ways he didn’t know how to express. that, for all his cold rationality, all his carefully measured distance, she was a gravitational force in his life that he could never quite pull away from.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice gentle.

jake didn’t answer right away. he looked at his hands – like he wasn’t sure when they had started shaking. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, nearly inaudible.

“she’s in the hospital.”

something in your chest tightened. “jake…”

he shook his head once, as if physically stopping himself from unraveling. “i—i need to go,” he said, already reaching for his coat, movements stiff. “i don’t—i can’t just sit here.”

“of course,” you said immediately. “do you want me to call someone? arrange a flight?”

“no,” he said, too quickly. he pressed his fingers to his temple, exhaling hard. “i’ll handle it.”

you watched him, watched the way he was barely keeping himself together. and despite everything, the growing distance, the unsaid things, you couldn’t just let him go like this.

“jake,” you said carefully, stepping closer. “let me help.”

for the first time in weeks, he met your gaze directly. and for the first time in weeks, you saw something unguarded in his eyes.

not calculation. not control.

just fear.

his throat bobbed. he looked like he wanted to say something – like he didn’t know how. but then his jaw clenched, and he nodded once, just slightly.

you reached for your phone. “i’ll book the next flight.”

jake exhaled slowly, as if grounding himself. he didn’t thank you – not verbally. but the way his shoulders loosened just slightly, the way his hands stopped trembling—

it was enough.

the drive to the airport was quiet.

jake was in the passenger seat, fingers curled into fists on his lap. he had barely spoken since leaving the office, only responding in brief nods or single words when necessary. the weight of the unknown pressed heavy between you both, thick like fog.

you had booked the first flight you could find, mere hours from the phone call and you had made sure he had gone back home immediately to pack his necessities. you knew you had a hard time coming with all the meetings and deadlines that needed to be pushed back, but that could wait. you had to make sure he was fine first.

you were in half a mind to offer to go along with him, but that would be crossing a line, right? afterall, you both were still at crossroads, still just assistant and employer. you couldn’t possibly even dare to suggest this in the first place.

when you pulled into the departure lane, you hesitated before reaching for his bag in the backseat. “are you sure you don’t want me to—”

“no,” jake said, shaking his head. his voice was hoarse. “you’ve done enough.”

you swallowed. he wasn’t saying it unkindly – just…tiredly. hollow in a way that didn’t suit him.

still, you lingered. you weren’t sure why. maybe it was because of the way he gripped the strap of his bag too tightly. maybe it was the way his breath came uneven, like he was bracing for something.

maybe it was because, for the first time, jake sim looked small.

he was out of his lab coat for the first time, a hastily found hoodie on his frame but his eyes. they looked so lost, so panicked and scared all at the same time, you couldn't even start to think what was going on in his mind. but you know for once that it hadn’t got anything to do with numbers and the universe.

you don’t know how to comfort him, not without knowing the situation and you definitely do not want to feed him empty reassurances. he would see right through them, the logical man that he was, he would probably even scoff at you for being presumptuous. so you do the best you can with the situation.

“i hope she’s okay,” you said quietly. “let me know when you land.”

he hesitated. then, finally, “yeah.”

“and don’t worry about work, i promise i’ll reschedule everything, take as much as you need.”

this, you mean too. because you will make sure of this, it’s the only thing you can do, to be quite honest. so you decide that you will, and you’ll give it your all.

you didn’t expect more. and yet, just as he was about to turn away, he stopped.

for a second, he looked like he might say something else. like he might let something slip through the cracks of whatever walls he had built between you both.

but then he just inhaled sharply and stepped away from the car, disappearing into the terminal without another word.

and you were left there, watching him go, wondering why it felt like something in you had gone with him.

eleven.

jake sat in his old car, the one his mom drove now. he had tried to convince her to buy a new one, but she insisted on using this beaten up junk he had used for most of his university life.

his day had been hectic, to say the least. he had touched down within two hours of leaving, all because you had managed to book him the earliest flight possible. his first stop had been the hospital where his mother had been admitted. she had fainted apparently, in the middle of a grocery store. someone had helped her and when she had come to, she had called jake immediately.

of course, as an understanding woman, she had hesitated before calling, but then she figured she’d be abandoning her son the way his father had, so without a second thought, she had called. she had buried the feeling that she was being a burden and explained to jake what had happened.

something very minor, a quick surgery would fix it, she’d be up and about in a week, but she would require someone by her side for that time.

jake talked to the doctors, a decision was made almost immediately, whatever his mother needed, he would do it. the surgery was in three days, she would not be in any major danger till then.

and then he had called you. well, he had called his front desk and asked to be transferred to you because he did not have your number.

“dr. sim?” your voice sounded distant and it only hurt a little that you didn’t call him by his first name like you had back then.

a long silence. then, his voice – low, rough, exhausted.

“she needs surgery.”

you had straightened in your chair. “surgery?”

“a minor procedure,” he clarified, though his voice sounded anything but reassured. “the doctors said she’ll be fine, but…”

he trailed off. you waited.

“but i don’t know if she wants me here.”

that was the part that made your stomach twist. not the surgery, not the hospital – those were tangible things, things jake could analyze and categorize, things with numbers and statistics and measurable risks. but this? the unspoken weight of old wounds, of things left unresolved between him and his mother?

this was something jake couldn’t quantify.

“dr. sim…” you started, hesitating. you weren’t sure if he wanted comfort, if he would even accept it. “i’m sure she’s glad you’re there.”

a dry, humorless chuckle crackled through the receiver. “i have been pushing her away for so long, i won’t blame her if she doesn't want me here.”

and he had done the same to you too. he had convinced himself that you did not need him or have any requirement of him in your life for it to function.

you closed your eyes. “have you talked to her?”

another pause. “not really.”

the admission had made something in your chest tighten.

“i don’t know what to say,” he muttered. “i don’t know if i should even be here.”

you exhaled slowly, gripping your phone tighter. “dr. sim, she called you.”

that made him pause.

“she called you,” you had repeated, softer this time. “if she didn’t want you there, she wouldn’t have.”

for a long time, there was nothing. just his breathing on the other end, slow and uneven. then, finally—

“maybe.”

it wasn’t certain, but it wasn’t dismissal either.

you had glanced down at your planner, at the list of tasks you still needed to get through before the day ended. none of them had seemed as important then.

“if you need anything,” you had said, voice steady, “just let me know.”

jake hadn’t responded right away. but when he finally did, it was quieter, softer than before.

“yeah,” he murmured. “thanks.”

and then the line went dead.

his hands rested now on the wheel, unmoving, but his mind was anything but still. he had been sitting there for ten minutes now, staring at the house in front of him, telling his mother to go on first, that he would follow soon after. it was the same house he had grown up in, the same porch light flickering against the damp evening air, the same worn-out welcome mat his mother refused to replace because she said it held memories.

memories.

jake hated memories.

but lately, they kept creeping in, unwelcome and persistent, just like the thoughts of you that he couldn’t seem to shake. he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before finally stepping out of the car. the moment he knocked on the door, it swung open almost immediately.

“come on in, i was starting to think you’d spend the night in that old thing.” his mother’s voice was warm but held that gentle chiding tone only mothers could master. she must have been waiting.

“yeah,” jake muttered, stepping inside. “sorry.”

his mother gave him a knowing look but didn’t push. instead, she motioned for him to sit at the kitchen table. it was strange, being back home. the familiarity was both comforting and suffocating.

they ate in silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the occasional clink of cutlery against ceramic. his mother had made all his favorite dishes, even before she knew he was coming like it was something she did regardless of whether or not her son was in town, and he hated how easily that made his chest tighten.

“so,” she finally said, breaking the quiet. “how’s jay? sunghoon?”

jake nodded. “they’re good.”

his mother hummed, waiting. jake knew she wasn’t just asking about them.

“and you?” she prompted.

“i’m fine,” he answered automatically.

her eyes softened, but she didn’t call him out on the lie. instead, she reached for his empty plate and stood to rinse it. that was always how it was between them. no forced conversations, no prying. just patience. it used to drive him crazy.

“you don’t visit as much anymore,” she said casually, but jake could hear the weight in her voice.

jake leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. “i’ve been busy.”

“too busy for your mother?”

his throat felt tight. “that’s not—” he sighed. “i don’t know.”

she shut off the sink and turned to him, drying her hands on a dish towel. “you’ve been running, jake.”

the words struck deep, hitting something raw inside him. he opened his mouth to deny it, but what was the point? she saw through him, as she always had.

“ever since your father left,” she continued, voice gentle but firm, “you’ve been running from anything that makes you feel too much. you push people away before they can leave you first.”

jake clenched his jaw. “that’s not true.”

her expression didn’t change. “isn’t it?”

he wanted to argue, but flashes of his past screamed otherwise. his father’s car pulling out of the driveway, his mother’s silent tears in the kitchen, the way he had stopped asking when his father would come back. how he had pulled away – from her, from the warmth she tried so hard to keep alive in their home. because what was the point? if his own father could leave so easily, then wasn’t everything temporary?

his mother sighed, walking over to sit beside him. “i don’t bring this up to hurt you, sweetheart. but i see the way you hold yourself back. you’ve always done that, even when you were a boy. you care, but you don’t let yourself feel it too deeply.”

jake exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around the edge of the kitchen table. the weight of his mother’s words settled heavily in his chest, pressing against old wounds he’d buried for too long.

“maybe,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

his mother didn’t gloat, didn’t press. she only gave him that quiet, patient look that somehow made him feel both seen and uncomfortably exposed. it was always like this with her – gentle in the ways that hurt the most.

“i know why you’ve been distant,” she said softly, moving back to the table. “and i know it’s not just about me.”

jake stilled. he knew what was coming next. he could feel it in the way his mother studied him, in the way her eyes carried an understanding he wasn’t ready to face.

“you always bottle things up,” she continued, her voice steady. “you don’t let yourself get attached. you let people slip away before they even have the chance to stay.” she paused, letting her words settle.

then— “but there’s someone you don’t want to let go of, isn’t there?”

jake’s breath hitched. his immediate instinct was to deny it, to shut down the conversation before it could go any further. but the words refused to form.

because she was right.

because for the first time in years, there was someone – someone who had slipped into his life so effortlessly, so quietly, that he hadn’t noticed until the absence of their presence started to eat away at him. someone whose voice still echoed in his head, whose absence left a hollowness he couldn’t explain away.

you.

his mother didn’t push. she just waited, as she always had, offering a space that was safe even when it didn’t feel like it. and maybe it was the exhaustion from the past few days, or maybe it was the fact that, for once, he didn’t want to run from this conversation.

jake exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

his mother simply hummed, waiting.

“i’m… off,” he admitted, hesitating. “lately, everything feels – wrong. like i’m forgetting something important, like i’m missing something. but i don’t know what to do about it.”

his mother tilted her head slightly. “and does this have something to do with the person you called earlier?”

jake’s fingers twitched against the table. “i didn’t call her directly,” he muttered, because even now, he wasn’t sure if he could handle what saying your name out loud would do to him. “i had to go through the front desk to reach her.”

his mother smiled knowingly. “that’s not the point, sweetheart.”

jake swallowed. he knew. he knew exactly what she was getting at.

“it’s just… she’s just been there,” he found himself saying, his voice hesitant. “always so put together, always knowing exactly what i need before i even have to ask. it’s like she—” he stopped himself before he could say too much, but his mother was already watching him with an expression that told him she understood more than he wanted her to.

“she takes care of you.”

jake’s jaw clenched. “yeah.”

“and you don’t know what to do with that.”

his laugh was hollow, humorless. “i don’t think i deserve it.”

his mother sighed, her eyes soft. “jake.”

he shook his head, leaning back against the chair. “i hurt her.”

the words felt heavier than he expected. saying them out loud made them real, made them impossible to ignore.

his mother didn’t look surprised. “how?”

jake hesitated. he wasn’t sure where to begin. it wasn’t just one thing – it was everything. the way he’d dismissed you, the way he’d taken you for granted, the way he’d let you become part of his routine without ever stopping to consider what that meant.

“i pushed her away,” he admitted, his voice tight. “i didn’t even realize i was doing it until it was too late. and now…”

his mother’s gaze was patient, understanding. “and now?”

jake exhaled slowly. “now, i feel like i’m losing my mind.”

his mother’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “because change terrifies you. and she’s become part of your life in a way you never expected.”

jake stared at the table, his thoughts a tangled mess. “i don’t even know when it happened,” he murmured. “i just… one day, she was there. and now, when she’s not – it feels wrong.”

his mother reached across the table, placing a gentle hand over his. “that sounds a lot like caring, jake.”

he let out a slow, shaky breath. “maybe.”

his mother squeezed his hand. “sweetheart, i’ve watched you close yourself off for so long. and i know you think it’s safer that way. but it’s okay to let people in. it’s okay to care.”

jake closed his eyes. he wanted to believe that. he really did.

“i don’t know how to fix this.”

his mother’s smile was sad but encouraging. “then start by not running away.”

jake swallowed hard, her words settling deep inside him. for the first time in a long while, he felt like maybe – just maybe – he didn’t want to run anymore.

jake’s fingers curled against the table. “i don’t know how i feel about this.”

his mother reached out, resting a hand over his. “that’s okay. but don’t let your fear stop you from figuring it out.”

jake didn’t respond. he didn’t know how.

his mother sighed, squeezing his hand once before letting go. “just don’t push her away, jake. don’t make the same mistake your father did.”

the words hit harder than he expected. he wasn’t like his father. he refused to be. but deep down, he knew – he had spent so much time trying to avoid being hurt that he had been the one keeping others at arm’s length.

maybe that needed to change.

later that night, as he lay in his childhood bedroom staring at the ceiling, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. the way you carried yourself, the way you fought for your place, the way you—

the way you made him feel.

jake turned onto his side, exhaling heavily. maybe it was time to stop running. maybe, for once, he needed to stay.

twelve.

you sat at your desk, staring at the chaotic schedule in front of you. jake had only been gone a few days, but it felt like an entire month’s worth of work had piled up. between rescheduling meetings, handling review dates, and ensuring the interns didn’t completely destroy the office system, your plate was overflowing. but that was your job. and you were good at it.

jake’s absence, however, made things feel heavier.

you had never been more aware of how much of your day revolved around him until he wasn’t here. normally, he’d be in his office, shooting you the occasional exasperated look over paperwork, or stepping out to ask for another coffee despite already having two. you had gotten used to the rhythm of his presence, the way it filled spaces without needing to demand attention.

now, that presence was gone, and you were left to make sure everything didn’t completely fall apart before he returned.

you let out a sigh, rubbing your temples before picking up your phone. another call, another problem to solve.

by the time jake’s return was only a few days away, you were running on caffeine and sheer determination. you had managed to keep everything under control, but it had taken everything out of you. your mind barely had space to wander – except for the brief moments when you remembered your last conversation with jake. the way his voice had sounded so lost, the hesitation behind his words.

but you couldn’t dwell on that. he wasn’t here. and when he came back, things would fall back into place.

a knock on your office door snapped you from your thoughts. you looked up to see one of your colleagues peeking in.

“hey, dr. sim called. he asked for you specifically.”

you blinked. “me?”

“yeah. said he wanted to check in.”

you hesitated for a moment before grabbing the office phone and dialing the number.

it barely rang once before he picked up. “y/n.”

his voice was different. not as tired as before, but still carrying something heavy. you straightened in your chair. “dr. sim. you called?”

a pause. then, “yeah. i just… wanted to check in. how’s everything?”

you glanced at the never-ending list on your screen. “under control.”

jake let out a small huff, almost like a laugh. “of course it is.”

silence stretched between you, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what else to say. but then his voice softened. “thank you. for everything. i know it’s been a lot.”

you smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “that’s my job, dr. sim.”

jake inhaled sharply, like the words had physically hurt him.

your job.

like this was just a role, a duty to fulfill. like you were only here because of professional obligation, not because you had ever cared beyond that.

and maybe that was the worst part – knowing that at some point, you had cared. that at some point, he had meant more to you. but now, all that remained was distance, formality.

“right,” he said after a moment, his voice unreadable. “i’ll be back soon.”

“of course. safe travels.”

the call ended before either of you could say more, but the weight of it lingered. you sat there for a long time, staring at your desk, trying to push away the uneasy feeling settling in your chest.

meanwhile, on the other end of the line, jake sat in his childhood home, gripping his phone tighter than necessary. for the first time in a long time, he felt like he had lost something important.

and he had no idea how to get it back.

jay keeps him updated, the way you’re single handedly managing his schedule, making sure kang doesn’t fire his ass straight up (not that he would, jake’s too much of a genius for that to happen). but more than that, jay spoke of the way you kept things running, how you barely took a break, how you worked yourself to exhaustion, making sure everything was still intact for when jake returned.

jake listened in silence, the pit in his stomach growing heavier with each passing word. you had always been efficient, always been reliable. but there was something about the way jay talked about you now – how you were overextending yourself, how you hardly left your desk unless necessary – that made him uneasy.

by the time he finally stepped back into the office, the weight of unfinished conversations, of unspoken words, was pressing heavily on his shoulders. his absence had given him clarity, but clarity didn’t mean anything if he didn’t act on it.

when jake does come back, it’s a surprise to you too. he hadn’t called in advance, hadn’t mentioned anything, hadn’t even asked you to book a flight. just shown up to work on a thursday like he hadn’t been on a leave the past week.

it surprised you, you thought you were hallucinating.

jake was the same, yet different. he was still dressed impeccably, his dark suit fitted just right, his tie slightly loosened as if he had already had a long morning. but his eyes – those damn eyes – were sharp when they landed on you, scanning you like he was seeing you for the first time in months, not weeks.

“morning.” his voice was smooth, composed. if he was affected by anything, he didn’t let it show.

you forced herself to breathe. “morning.”

a pause later, you added, “how’s your mom?”

jake smiles, faintly. he looks tired, but also like he was well rested. like the week away from his office had given him the rest he had deserved.

“she’s fine,” he says, and you realise you had missed the warmth of his voice, “she’s recovering pretty fast.”

you nod, thankful that things were alright. you want to say something more, ask him how he was doing, ask him ask him if he’s really okay.

the words sit on your tongue, hesitant, unwilling to be spoken. you don't know if you have the right to ask anymore.

jake, for his part, watches you like he’s waiting for something. like he’s expecting you to say more, but when you don’t, he only nods. there’s something restrained in his expression, something that makes you feel like there’s more he wants to say too – but neither of you does.

instead, the moment passes.

“i should—” you gesture vaguely to your desk, to the endless tasks that had piled up in his absence. “i didn’t know you were coming back today, if you want , i can set your schedule up today. maybe a meeting in an hour with director kang, if you’re up for it, and then a review session with the legal team later in the afternoon. i can send the details to your email.”

jake exhales, eyes flickering to his office door. you’re rambling and he finds it amusing. or endearing. the thought of the latter feeling makes him tighten his hold over his bag, but he doesn’t look away, just nods along to whatever you say.

afterall, you know what’s best.

“right. i’ll look through it.”

you nod once, curt, and then turn back to your screen, as if that conversation hadn’t just been something fragile, something that could’ve cracked open if you had let it. you think that’s the end of it. that he’ll walk away, go back to his office, and things will return to the way they were.

but jake doesn’t move.

he lingers.

and then, in a voice softer than before, he says, “thank you, y/n.”

your fingers pause over your keyboard.

it’s not the words themselves that make your breath hitch – it’s the way he says them. the way they aren’t just polite acknowledgments, aren’t just an empty phrase meant to brush past the weight of everything left unsaid. no, this is different.

this is him meaning it.

this is gratitude in its truest form, held in his voice like it’s something delicate.

you inhale slowly, schooling your expression before you look up at him again. “of course,” you reply, but the words feel distant, like they don’t quite match the way your heart stumbles against your ribs.

jake’s lips press together, as if he wants to say something more. but then jay appears, calling out to him from the other side of the office, and the moment snaps in half.

just like that, he’s gone.

for most part of the day though, jake is drowning in work.

it had been that way since he got back – nonstop reviews, overflowing emails, projects that had stalled in his absence. the moment he stepped into the office, he had been pulled in every direction, barely given room to breathe. and he let it happen. work was easier to focus on. it was something he could control.

but every now and then, between the numbers and the reports, he felt it – the weight of your presence just beyond his reach.

you were there. moving around the office, talking to coworkers, slipping in and out of the conference room with files in hand. he caught glimpses of you in passing, his eyes drawn to you more times than he could count. you weren’t avoiding him anymore, not like before, but the distance was still there – an unspoken, lingering thing between you both.

he wanted to talk to you. he really did. but every time he so much as turned in your direction, something else demanded his attention – a call, an urgent email, a meeting running longer than expected. so he buried himself in work, knowing that if he just got through all of it, if he could just clear his plate, then maybe he could finally sit down with you. no interruptions. no distractions. just you and him.

but the day passed, and the timing was never right. not until lunch.

he didn’t notice at first – too caught up in his screen, typing away furiously. but when he finally leaned back to stretch, his eyes landed on your figure, knuckles raised against his door as if you were just about to knock.

your eyes widen as if you had been caught doing something scandalous, but you school your expression, clearing your throat hastily.

“you should eat,” you said, voice careful. “it’s been a long day, and it's only going to get busier later. dr. lee called for an impromptu review at four pm.”

you sound apologetic, almost as if you’re the one who put him through this predicament, especially after his first day back.

for a second, he just stared at you. it had been so long since you had done something like this for him. since you had even looked at him like this – cautious, hesitant, but still caring. and for the first time in what felt like forever, the words weren’t automatic, weren’t distant.

jake exhales, pushing away from his desk. his shoulders ache, his mind heavy from the sheer amount of work waiting for him, but for the first time today, his focus shifts entirely – to you.

you’re still standing there, waiting for his response.

his gaze flickers over your expression, taking in the way you hover, like you’re unsure if you should even be here. like you’re debating whether you should have said anything at all.

and suddenly, he doesn’t want you to leave just yet.

jake clears his throat, shifting in his seat. “have you eaten?”

you blink, clearly thrown off.

“uh,” you hesitate. “no, not yet.”

jake nods once, contemplative. then, without overthinking it, he pushes back his chair, standing to grab his coat.

“let’s go, then.”

your brain stutters. “go where?”

“lunch.” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. like it’s not entirely unprecedented and completely out of character for him to suggest something like this.

you stare at him, almost suspicious. “like, together?”

a corner of his mouth twitches, though he quickly tamps it down. “yes, y/n. together.”

you should say no. you should.

because this? this is dangerous territory. jake doesn’t ask you to lunch. he doesn’t ask you for anything, really – at least, nothing that doesn’t pertain to work.

but then he tilts his head ever so slightly, waiting. and maybe it’s the exhaustion talking, maybe it’s the way your stomach actually growls at the worst possible moment, or maybe it’s just that he’s looking at you like that.

like he’s trying.

“…okay,” you say before you can stop yourself.

jake nods, satisfied, before leading the way out of his office.

thirteen.

the café jake picked was a little ways away from the office, tucked into a quieter street lined with small shops. it wasn’t anything extravagant – just a cozy place with warm lighting and a surprisingly extensive menu. you weren’t sure what you expected, but it definitely wasn’t this.

“you come here often?” you asked as you both settled into a table near the window.

jake hummed, glancing over the menu. “not really. but i figured somewhere away from the office would be better.”

you blinked, caught off guard by his thoughtfulness. “oh.”

he didn’t elaborate, just focused on the menu like this was something normal. like he hadn’t just, for the first time in forever, actively chosen to spend time with you outside of work.

the waitress arrived, and after a quick back-and-forth (in which jake somehow convinced you to order something other than your usual go-to sandwich), you were left with nothing but your drinks and the thick air of unspoken words.

“so,” you started, wrapping your hands around your cup. “how’s your mom doing?”

jake leaned back slightly, fingers tapping idly against the table. “better. still recovering, but she’s been more energetic these past few days.”

“that’s good to hear.”

“she actually told me to stop hovering over her,” he added, lips twitching in amusement. “said i was more of a nuisance than a help.”

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “i can imagine. you don’t seem like the type to sit still when you’re worried.”

jake’s brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t deny it. “you’re not wrong.”

there was a beat of silence, comfortable this time. jake studied you for a moment before tilting his head slightly. “what about you?”

you frowned. “what about me?”

he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “how have you been? you’ve basically been running the office while i was gone.”

“it’s nothing i couldn’t handle,” you said, brushing it off.

jake wasn’t convinced. “jay made it sound like you barely had time to breathe.”

you huffed, shaking your head. “jay exaggerates.”

“does he?”

you hesitated. “okay, maybe a little. but it’s my job. it’s what i do.”

something flickered in his expression, but before you could dissect it, he changed the subject. “what do you do after work?”

you blinked. “huh?”

“when you’re not running the office or making sure i don’t completely destroy my schedule—what do you do?”

you narrowed your eyes, suspicious. “why do you want to know?”

jake smirked slightly, but there was a sincerity behind it. “just curious.”

you hesitated for a moment before sighing. “not much, honestly. i usually just go home, maybe read a little. sometimes i go out with friends, but it depends on the day.”

jake hummed, nodding. “sounds… peaceful.”

“sometimes.” you tilted your head. “what about you? when you’re not buried in research papers or ignoring kang’s calls?”

jake exhaled a laugh. “ignoring kang is a full-time job in itself.”

you snorted, shaking your head. but you’re also slightly malfunctioning. never in a million years would you have even imagined that you’d be sitting across jake sim, making small talk. is this a dream?

“but,” he continued, “i guess i read, too. or watch documentaries. i used to play soccer more, but it’s been a while.”

your brows lifted slightly. “soccer? really?”

jake smirked. “what, don’t believe me?”

this side of him is new. the smirk, the unguarded laughs, the way he sometimes bites his lips. you will yourself to stay calm, clench your fingers in your lap and exhale slowly.

you shrugged. “i just can’t picture you running around on a field when you’re usually glued to your computer.”

“i contain multitudes,” he said, mock-offended.

you rolled your eyes, but the smile lingered.

then, seemingly out of nowhere, he asked, “so, are you seeing anyone?”

your entire brain short-circuited.

“wh—what?”

jake leaned back, utterly unbothered. “you know. dating. boyfriend, girlfriend, situationship. whatever people call it these days.”

you stared at him. “why do you want to know?”

he shrugged, playing it cool. “just making conversation.”

your eyes narrowed slightly, but you answered anyway. “no. not at the moment.”

jake nodded slowly, almost like he was committing that information to memory.

you crossed your arms. “and you?”

his expression didn’t change. “no.”

“not even someone waiting for you to finally look up from your research and realize they exist?”

jake exhaled a laugh, shaking his head. “not that i know of.”

you hummed, unconvinced, but let it go.

for a moment, the conversation lulled, and then you found yourself blurting, “why did you choose astrophysics?”

jake glanced up, slightly surprised by the question. but after a beat, his lips curled up faintly. “you really want to know?”

you shrugged. “i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t.”

he leaned forward slightly, his voice taking on that familiar, passionate undertone he always had when he spoke about his field. “i guess it started when i was a kid. i always liked figuring things out, but space… space is different. it’s infinite, unpredictable. the more you learn, the more you realize how much you don’t know.”

you watched him, absorbed by the way his eyes lit up as he spoke.

“it’s terrifying,” he admitted, a small grin playing on his lips. “but it’s also incredible. there are entire galaxies out there, black holes that warp time, planets that could be habitable. the laws of physics as we know them could be completely different somewhere else.”

you smiled slightly, resting your chin on your hand. “you sound like you’re in love with it.”

jake blinked at you, momentarily thrown off.

then, he huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “maybe i am.”

and for some reason, something about that made your chest feel oddly tight.

the food arrived then, breaking the moment. but as you both ate, the conversation continued – easier now, lighter. and you didn’t miss the way jake kept looking at you, like he was memorizing this, like he was finally realizing that outside of the office, outside of schedules and meetings and deadlines, there was you.

and maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to miss out on that anymore.

jake walks beside you as you both make your way back to the office, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his coat. the lunch had been... nice. unexpected, but nice. and now, as the two of you walk in comfortable silence, he seems more at ease than you’ve seen him in a long time.

then, without warning, he speaks.

"did you know that if you fell into a black hole, time would slow down for you compared to someone watching from the outside?" his voice is contemplative, as if he’s only now realizing he said it out loud.

you blink, caught off guard. "um. no?"

jake nods, as if he expected that. "yeah. it’s called time dilation. the closer you get to the event horizon – the point of no return – the slower time moves for you, relative to everyone else. so technically, if you could somehow escape, you’d find that far more time had passed for the rest of the universe than for you."

you process his words, lips twitching. "so what you're saying is... if i ever want to time travel, i should just jump into a black hole?"

jake huffs out a laugh. "not unless you want to be spaghettified."

you stop mid-step. "spaghettified?"

he turns his head, eyes glinting with amusement. "yeah. because of the intense gravitational pull, your body would stretch into thin strands, like spaghetti. it’s called ‘spaghettification.’"

you let out a short laugh, shaking your head. "you’re messing with me."

"i swear i’m not." he grins, and for a moment, you see a different version of him – one without the weight of responsibilities or expectations pressing down on him. "the gravitational pull at your feet would be much stronger than at your head, so you’d get stretched out like a noodle before—" he snaps his fingers. "—being ripped apart."

you stare at him, utterly baffled. "what a horrifying way to go."

"oh, absolutely," he says, like it's the most natural thing in the world. "but theoretically, if the black hole was big enough, you might not even notice you’d crossed the event horizon. you’d just... fall. forever."

you don’t know what’s funnier – the fact that he’s so nonchalant about it, or the fact that he’s clearly enjoying this little tangent.

"so, the moral of the story," you say, crossing your arms, "avoid black holes."

jake chuckles, the sound low and genuine. "exactly."

for a moment, the two of you just walk, and you realize something – you actually like listening to him talk about this. there’s something comforting about the way he explains things, the way he gets lost in his own thoughts, his usual guardedness slipping away as he speaks about something he genuinely loves.

you glance at him, curious. you suddenly wonder about the jake sim you don’t know about. the one who apparently plays soccer and reads for leisure at home. what does he read? books on astrophysics? does he read fiction? does he have a favourite soccer team? does he still watch matches?

the more you imagine, the more you want to know.

who is jake sim outside of the brilliant astrophysicist you’re an assistant to?

but you don’t have to wonder too long. you’re already at the office doors and jake pushes them open first, holding them so you can step inside before him.

and that’s when jay sees you.

he’s standing near the entrance of the cafeteria, cup of coffee in hand, and the moment he spots the two of you stepping in together, his brows shoot up to his hairline. his eyes flicker between you and jake, and then – because he’s jay – his lips curl into a knowing smirk.

"well, well," he drawls, taking a slow sip of his coffee. "look who decided to have a little lunch date."

you freeze. "it wasn’t a—"

jake, to your surprise, doesn’t even flinch. he merely tugs off his coat, shrugging. "we were hungry."

jay’s smirk deepens. "uh-huh. sure."

you roll your eyes and push past him, but not before catching the way jay mouths "okay, i see y’all" at you behind jake’s back.

you ignore him.

you ignore the warmth in your chest too. however, if you know jay, you’d know that he’s anything but dismissive. that’s how you find yourself cornered in the printer room not even twenty minutes later.

jake had barely settled back into his office when you made your way to the printer room, hoping to grab some reports before his next meeting. it was supposed to be a quick trip – get in, get out, avoid any unnecessary interactions. but, of course, jay had other plans.

you didn’t even hear him coming.

“so.”

you nearly jumped out of your skin. “jesus—”

jay leaned against the printer, arms crossed, watching you with an all-too-knowing look.

you should’ve known. the moment you and jake had stepped into the office together, jay had been watching. his eyes had flickered between the two of you, brows raised ever so slightly, but he hadn’t said anything much at the time. which, in retrospect, had been a warning in itself.

and now, here he was, looking way too entertained for your liking.

“what do you want?” you asked, feigning nonchalance as you grabbed the stack of papers.

jay grinned. “oh, i don’t know. just wondering how your little lunch date went.”

you almost dropped the reports. “it wasn’t a date.”

“sure,” he nodded sagely. “just two colleagues, having lunch together, alone, outside the office, for the first time ever.”

you exhaled sharply, fixing him with a look. “he asked. i said yes. that’s it.”

jay hummed, unconvinced. “and what did you two talk about?”

“nothing special.”

“uh-huh. so, just to be clear,” jay continued, tilting his head, “jake sim—our very own resident workaholic, who has never once asked you out to lunch—randomly decides to do so today, and you think that means nothing?”

you shifted, feeling cornered. “jay—”

“because, and hear me out,” he interrupted, grinning wider, “it kinda seems like he’s making an effort.”

you blinked, lips parting slightly, but no words came out.

jay watched as realization flickered across your face, the way your fingers tightened around the papers in your grasp. and then he smirked, patting your shoulder before sauntering off, leaving you standing there, replaying the conversation in your head.

making an effort.

no. no way.

…right?

fourteen.

it started, as most things did between you and jake, with work.

you had long since grown used to your role as his assistant, leaving meticulous reminders on his desk so that he wouldn’t conveniently forget to review reports or attend meetings. it was a well-oiled system by now. you left him a note, he (sometimes) actually followed through, and the world kept spinning.

but now there was a comfortable dynamic starting to form between you two.

now jake would stop by your desk for a whole minute, greeting you warmly and in fact, he had started receiving his coffee from you at your desk itself.

there was always a polite but warm ‘good morning’ and ‘thanks for the coffee’ greeting you. and you liked it. you liked that jake would mirror your smile. the first time he had smiled at you – like, openly grinned, with his eyes crinkling – you had been blindsighted. you were probably too shocked to even return the gesture, sitting still for a whole minute, imprinting and memorizing the sight you had just been graced with in your memory.

turns out, you didn’t have to memorise it, because you were suddenly a regular recipient of it. every damn morning. well, it certainly was one reason to start looking forward to your mondays.

this was still jake, he was still the same old sleeves rolled up deep in calculations person inside his office. but when he passed by you? or when you entered his office? a permanent grin etched on his face. those eyes that had been focused on some report? positively sparkling behind his thick rimmed glasses.

he was suddenly starting to resemble a puppy in you reyes and the more you sneaked glances at him, the more you were concerned of this comparison.

so when you left a neatly written sticky note on his desk one evening—"reminder: review kang’s quarterly report before 10 am meeting tomorrow."— you thought nothing of it.

the next morning, you arrived to find the note on your desk. only, something had been added beneath your writing, in jake’s neat, slanted script:

"did you know that the universe is expanding at an accelerating rate? just like kang’s expectations."

you blinked. then blinked again. what the hell?

you turned your head toward his office, where the glass door remained shut, jake nowhere in sight. he had to have done this late last night. and he hadn’t even addressed your reminder – just hit you with a completely random space fact.

you thought it was a one time thing. maybe he saw the post notes on your desk and decided to leave one for the fun of it?

the next evening, after finishing up your reports, you left another note on his desk: "don’t forget to go through the intern evaluations before friday."

when you returned the next morning, there was another addition:

"forwarded you the evals.” below it, in his slightly scratchy handwriting was an addition: “incidentally, did you know that time moves slower in stronger gravitational fields? maybe that’s why this week feels endless."

you covered your mouth, suppressing a laugh. this man.

and just like that, it became a thing.

it started slow, with simple reminders laced with cosmic facts, but then it evolved. jake’s responses became more elaborate, slipping in more than just dry science.

one day, you left: "you need to approve the lab’s funding proposal by end of day. no exceptions!"

by the next morning, jake’s response was waiting for you: "did you know that some stars shine brighter when they have a companion? also, the proposal is on your desk, don’t nag."

your heart stuttered for an entirely different reason that day.

but jake never acknowledged it out loud. when you interacted in person, he was the same – calm, composed, occasionally brooding but never ignoring your reminders anymore. yet, on paper, in these little sticky notes, something else simmered beneath his usual cool demeanor.

it was a language only the two of you seemed to understand.

the next time you found a note, you stared at it a little longer than usual before pressing your lips together to suppress a smile.

"scientists believe there’s a ninth planet in our solar system, but we haven’t been able to find it yet. kind of like how i never see you taking breaks. go home on time for once."

like he’s one to speak, pulling long hours on days you leave on time anyway. regardless, you read it three times, warmth unfurling in your chest before tucking the note away in your drawer – right next to all the others you had kept. because you were keeping them now.

even if he didn’t catch you in the act of placing them carefully in one of your drawers, you had a feeling jake knew.

sometimes he was straight up funny, or so you thought. it was a side that you could usually only see through these notes because jake sim in person? he never said stuff like this.

once you reminded him of  a deadline: “the research proposal deadline is on friday. let me know if you need anything."

he replied: "there’s a giant storm on jupiter that has been raging for over 300 years. that’s still shorter than some of the meetings we sit through."

you had laughed. you had tried to be discreet about it but you couldn’t help the chuckle that had tumbled out and jake had caught you in that moment.

it was unfair, really. how easily he managed to make you smile. how effortlessly he turned something as mundane as sticky notes into something… else.

your cheeks had warmed up and very sheepishly, you looked away. but you missed the way jake had smiled to himself, pushing his glasses up and scratching his ears. cute, he had thought.

and proceeded to malfunction the rest of the day.

and of course jay noticed. of course he had something to say.

he started with jake first, because believe it or not, his friend was an absolute loser.

jay had been watching jake all morning. well, technically, he’d been watching jake for weeks now, but today was different.

jake was fidgeting.

now, jake sim did not fidget. he was the type of guy who could stare at a complex data set for hours without breaking concentration, but today? today, his pen was twirling between his fingers with a sort of nervous energy, his glasses had been pushed up his nose at least five times in the last two minutes, and most damning of all, he kept sneaking glances at your desk.

jay smirked, leaning back in his chair, watching the way jake’s ears tinged pink every time you so much as moved.

“oh, this is so good,” he muttered to himself.

jake ignored him, as he usually did. but jay knew the truth.

he wasn’t the only one who had noticed the sticky note exchanges. it had started small, easy to brush off as just another one of jake’s quirks, but then jay had seen you laughing at a note one morning, your eyes lingering a little too long on the writing before tucking it away. tucking it away. as in, keeping it.

jay, of course, had confronted jake immediately.

“you like her,” he’d accused one evening as they left the office.

jake had barely given him a glance. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“oh, come on, dude. you’re writing her space facts like it’s some secret code for flirting.”

jake had hesitated then, the barest of pauses in his step before he scoffed. “it’s not flirting. it’s just… facts.”

jay had groaned. “you absolute loser.”

the worst part is, jay actually reads one of those notes. 

you don’t even notice. he was leaning against your desk, waiting for you to find him one of those empty files you usually kept handy when he saw it. the yellow paper peeking out from under your keyboard.

you hear him scoff.

you turn just in time to see him pluck the sticky note off your desk, holding it between two fingers like it’s the most scandalous piece of evidence he’s ever seen.

“really?” he deadpans, reading the words aloud. “fact: the andromeda galaxy is on a collision course with the milky way. kind of like how you’re on a collision course with burnout if you keep staying past office hours. go home, y/n. – jake’”

he blinks. then looks at you. long. hard. smug.

you snatch the note back. “mind your business.”

“oh, no, no,” jay grins, crossing his arms. “this is my business. because you–” he points at you, then at your drawer, which probably has a whole stash of jake’s little science notes, “are clearly stockpiling these. and he” —cue the dramatic hand gesture in the direction of jake’s office— “is clearly trying to rizz you up with astrophysics.”

your soul leaves your body. “he is not!”

jay just laughs. “oh, honey. he is. and the fact that you’re keeping them? you’re down bad.”

you groan, pressing a hand to your forehead. “please shut up.”

“but like—are you guys flirting through the cosmos?” he’s grinning so hard, it’s physically painful to witness. “is this—interstellar rizz?”

“jay…”

“a universal love story?”

“jay.”

“gravitational attraction?”

“oh my god!”

fifteen.

it's been a whole entire month now. an entire month from the day you had been venting to jay about how you were just a paperclip to jake. a whole month since you quietly but seamlessly made your presence known in jake’s daily routine.

funny, how things change.

jake’s never been good with change though. 

it unsettles him – the way you’ve become this constant, the way he’s started to notice you in ways he never used to. at first, it was just small things. the way you always showed up in the lab before him, already setting up for the day. how you somehow remembered his preferred coffee order better than he did. the way your presence always lingered in the room, even when you weren’t speaking.

but then, those small things started becoming something more.

like how he started looking for you before even realizing he was doing it. how your voice, your laughter – hell, even the way you sighed when you were frustrated – started threading itself into the fabric of his days.

and the worst part? he let it happen.

jake liked routines, formulas, things that followed a set pattern. he liked knowing what to expect. but you? you were anything but predictable. and yet, somehow, you were still there, right in the middle of everything, shifting the entire equation of his life without permission.

how your presence had become something…expected.

jake didn’t like expecting things. expectations led to disappointments. people left, and routines shattered. he had learned that early on, and he had learned it well.

jake hadn’t meant to think of you. really.

he had been sitting at his desk, staring at the notes sprawled out before him, running calculations and double-checking measurements for the upcoming visit to the observatory. it was standard procedure – his advisor had asked him to review the telescope’s latest readings, compare them with the simulations, and ensure everything was in order before they proceeded with the next phase of their research. it was work he could do on autopilot, something he’d done dozens of times before.

and yet, he found himself pausing.

because for the first time in a long time, he didn’t want to go alone.

it wasn’t unusual for jake to make solo visits to the observatory – he actually preferred it that way. it was quiet, isolated, just him and the endless expanse of the universe stretched out before him. no distractions, no expectations. just the comfort of knowing that the stars above would always remain as they were – constant, unmoving, predictable.

but ever since you had slipped into his life, disrupting the structure he had so carefully built, everything felt different.

the observatory had always been his space. a place where he could think, where the world made sense. it was the last place he should be considering bringing someone else. and yet, the idea had wormed its way into his head and refused to leave.

he frowned, tapping his pen against the desk.

why did he want you there?

it wasn’t logical. you weren’t a physicist. you had nothing to gain from being in the observatory, nothing to contribute to the calculations or the data collection. the rational part of his mind told him there was no reason to invite you.

still, he found himself gripping his pen a little tighter, watching you from the corner of his eye as he wondered what you would say if he asked. but technically, he could use an extra pair of hands. he needed to cross check some numbers anyway, maybe you would be willing to help?

or is he rationalises his thoughts and actions as he finally makes his way over to you. it seemed, lately he had been doing a lot of that – seeking you out at your desk. 

“are you busy this evening?”

you looked up from your notes, brow arching slightly. “depends. are you about to ask me to do something tedious?”

jake scoffed lightly. “define tedious.”

you narrowed your eyes. “dr.  sim, you’re asking me to stay back after work. that email disaster was a one-time thing, but if you’re going to make me stay late to organize more files or proofread another hundred pages of data sheets, i will be charging overtime.”

jake huffed out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “it’s not that.”

you tilted your head, waiting for him to continue.

he shifted his weight slightly, gripping the edge of your desk like he needed something solid to keep himself grounded. “i need to check something at the observatory tonight. cross-check some numbers, recalibrate a few things.” a pause. “figured an extra pair of hands wouldn’t hurt.”

you blinked. “and i’m the extra pair of hands?”

jake nodded. “yeah.”

you stared at him for a long moment, trying to decipher his expression. you weren’t exactly well-versed in astrophysics, and you were pretty sure there wasn’t much you could actually do to help. but jake wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t think you were at least somewhat useful, he wasn’t the type to waste time.

still, something about this felt… off. not in a bad way, just unusual. jake rarely asked for company, let alone your company outside of work hours.

you leaned back in your chair, arms crossed. “i’m not sure how an assistant is supposed to be helpful at an observatory.”

jake shrugged, nonchalant. “moral support.”

you gave him a flat look. “moral support?”

“yeah. you know. in case i get emotionally overwhelmed by all the equations.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “right. that definitely sounds like something you’d struggle with.”

there was a glint in his eyes, like he was amused by your skepticism, but he didn’t argue. just watched you, waiting for your answer.

you exhaled through your nose, considering. the observatory wasn’t exactly your idea of an exciting evening, but… you couldn’t deny you were curious.

and maybe – just maybe – a small part of you liked the fact that he had asked.

“…fine,” you relented. “but if i get bored, i’m leaving.”

jake smirked. “noted.”

which brings you to now.

the observatory was quieter than you expected. it stood at the edge of campus, slightly isolated, its large dome stretching into the night sky, a dark canvas dotted with stars, and though you've never really considered yourself someone particularly enthralled by space, you can't deny the way the sight steals your breath.

in the center of the room, a massive telescope stands like something out of a sci-fi movie, its lenses gleaming under the soft glow of the control panel. but what steals your breath is the view beyond the glass ceiling – an entire universe stretched out above you, vast and infinite.

you exhale, stunned. “wow.”

jake watches you, something unreadable in his expression. “yeah,” he murmurs. “i thought you’d like it.”

there’s something about the way he says it – soft, almost hesitant – that makes your pulse skip.

jake was already setting up, his movements methodical. you hovered near the entrance, taking in the scene before finally making your way to him.

“so, what now?” you asked, clearing your throat.

he glanced at you, then gestured to a set of notes on the table. “just cross-check these while i calibrate the telescope.”

you nodded, flipping through the pages. silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. just the soft rustling of paper, the occasional click of buttons, and the steady sound of jake adjusting the equipment.

after a while, you looked up, watching him in his element. his brows were slightly furrowed in concentration, his fingers moving deftly over the controls. there was something almost peaceful about seeing him like this, completely immersed in his work.

“so.” you clear your throat, still taking in the sky. “this is where you go when you disappear for hours?”

“sometimes,” he admits. “it’s quiet here. no emails. no meetings. just… this.”

he moves to the telescope, adjusting the dials with practiced ease before glancing at you. “want to see?”

you hesitate for only a second before stepping closer.

jake’s hands brush against yours as he guides you to the eyepiece, and you pretend not to notice the way your skin hums from the contact.

you peer in, and suddenly, it’s just you and the stars.

it’s breathtaking. planets and constellations in sharp clarity, galaxies swirling in a cosmic dance.

“this is insane,” you whisper.

jake chuckles. “insane in a good way?”

“in the best way.” your voice reduces to a whisper on its own accord. through the eyepiece, you feel like you’re experiencing something intimate, only for your eyes. “i think i’m starting to understand why you like doing this work.”

you don’t know what motivates you to actually say it out aloud, but the comfortable silence that had settled between you may have been a catalyst.

jake laughs a tiny little laugh, almost quietly as if he wanted to preserve the sanctity of this moment. nothing but the hum of the machines surround you now and he can hear the way your clothes rustle when you adjust yourself to the telescope.

“it makes sense,” he said simply.

you tilted your head. “more than people do?”

his hands stilled.

for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. but then, he let out a quiet breath, gaze still fixed on the telescope.

“people aren’t predictable,” he said finally. “science is.”

you set the notes down, stepping closer. “predictability isn’t everything sometimes.”

he turned to look at you then, something unreadable in his expression. the air between you felt heavier, charged with something neither of you could name. the way his gaze lingered made your stomach twist, and for a second, you thought he might say something – something important.

there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again, voice quieter. “you ever think about it?”

“think about what?”

“how small we are,” he muses. “how, in the grand scheme of the universe, we’re just specks of dust on a floating rock.”

you pull away from the telescope to look at him, but his gaze is fixed upward.

“you’re telling me,” you start, amused, “that we came all the way here so you could have an existential crisis?”

jake huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “no. i just—” he hesitates, choosing his words. “i guess i wanted to show you why i love this.”

you don’t know why, but that confession makes something tighten in your chest.

you watch him for a moment – how the glow of the dim lights casts a soft halo around his face, how his brows furrow ever so slightly in thought. the glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, reflecting the stars above you. how his eyes shine behind those glasses, holding things you didn’t dare to ask him about. the soft smile tugging on the corners of his lips as his neck craned up in familiar appreciation.

for once, you don’t feel like an outsider in his world.

“this is where it started for me,” he said suddenly, his voice quieter than usual.

you turned to him, curious. “what did?”

his lips curved, not quite a smile, but something softer. “my obsession with space. the stars. everything.”

you waited, sensing that he wasn’t finished. and after a beat, he exhaled, tilting his head back as if he could reach into the past and pluck the memory right from the sky.

“i was ten the first time i saw saturn through a telescope,” he murmured. “my mom took me to an observatory for my birthday. she—” he hesitated for a fraction of a second before continuing. “she wasn’t exactly the type to understand science, but she knew i loved it. so she made the trip just for me.”

you watched him, noting the way his fingers twitched slightly before curling into his palm.

“she let me stay up late,” he went on, voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “and i remember looking through that telescope and seeing saturn’s rings for the first time. it didn’t feel real. it was just this perfect thing, floating out there in the dark. and i thought, ‘if something this beautiful exists so far away, what else is out there?’”

you felt your heart twist at the wonder in his tone, the lingering traces of a child who had once stared at the universe with wide-eyed fascination.

“she sounds like she really cared,” you said gently.

jake’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “yeah,” he admitted. “she did.”

a comfortable silence stretched between you, the weight of nostalgia settling in. when he spoke again, his voice was a touch lighter. “anyway, that’s how it all started. one night, one telescope, and a planet millions of miles away.”

you smiled. “and now you’re here. making it your whole life.”

he huffed a soft laugh. “yeah, guess so.”

the two of you stood there for a while longer, the silence stretching between you – not awkward, not uncertain, just there. comfortable. quiet. something unspoken settling in the air between you like stardust.

and when jake finally broke the silence, it wasn’t with another question. it was with a quiet, thoughtful, almost teasing murmur—

“you know, saturn’s rings are actually disappearing.”

you turned to him, eyebrows raised, almost alarmed. “what?”

he smirked, a knowing glint in his eyes. “slowly, of course. give it a hundred million years.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small, amused smile that pulled at your lips. typical.

jake had been careful in his explanations at first, as if gauging whether you were truly interested or simply indulging him. but the moment he realized you actually wanted to listen, something in him loosened. the words started flowing, effortless, unfiltered. he spoke of nebulae and galaxies colliding, of stars that lived and died before the earth had even existed. he pointed out constellations, filling the silence with a quiet reverence that made you feel like you were standing on the edge of something infinite.

you wonder if anyone else has ever seen this side of him.

not the researcher, not the reserved and often too-intense scholar, but the man who could speak about the cosmos with a fascination so deep it bled into his voice. the man who, for all his cool detachment, still carried the kind of awe that made you believe in something bigger than yourself.

and that’s when it happens. that’s when you feel it.

that slow, creeping realization that something has shifted. that this isn’t just about your inherent respect for this man. no, it was more than that. sure, you had started this month with a reluctant motivation to make this person acknowledge your existence.

but now that he is? it does something to you.

a quiet, unsettling shift that settles deep in your bones, in the spaces between your ribs where your heart beats just a little too fast. the realization slinks in slow, insidious – like the tide rolling in, creeping past where you thought the shore ended, until suddenly, you’re in deeper than you meant to be.

jake is still speaking, voice steady and sure, filling the silence with his quiet reverence. you barely hear the words anymore. something about the life cycle of stars, about the sheer immensity of time itself – how the light from some of these constellations has taken millions of years to reach earth, how when you look up, you are peering into the past.

it should be overwhelming. it should make you feel small.

but instead, all you can think about is the man beside you. talking so animatedly, his lips splitting into a grin, his teeth biting into the flesh every once in a while when he pointed out another constellation to you.

the paperwork you were here for in the first place remained forgotten. insignificant, almost as if you hadn’t really been required for it in the first place.

because you realize, then, that this isn’t just admiration anymore. this isn’t just you being awed by his mind, by the way he sees the universe with such unguarded wonder. it’s not just about the way he listens when you speak, or how he’s begun to answer your notes with scribbled facts, or how he’s been looking at you lately, with something unreadable in his gaze.

it’s him.

jake, with his impossible knowledge and even more impossible depth, the way his fascination bleeds into his voice when he speaks of things so much bigger than himself. the way his eyes are fixed on the sky, dark and gleaming, reflecting galaxies you’ll never touch but somehow feel closer to just by standing here next to him.

and it terrifies you.

because this isn’t what you planned. you were supposed to break down the walls between you, supposed to demand acknowledgment, supposed to pull him out of that self-imposed solitude and make him see you.

but now that he does?

now that he’s speaking to you like this, sharing this piece of himself so freely, without reservation?

now that you’re standing here, heart stuttering in your chest, wondering if maybe – just maybe – you don’t want him to see you just as his assistant anymore?

the thought makes your breath hitch.

“—are you listening?”

jake’s voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, and you blink, snapping back to the present. he’s turned toward you now, brows raised in mild amusement, but there’s something else in his eyes, too – something patient, expectant, like he’s waiting for you to catch up to whatever just shifted between you.

you clear your throat hastily. “yeah. of course.”

his gaze lingers for a moment, like he doesn’t quite believe you. but then he huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he looks back toward the sky.

“good,” he murmurs. “i’d hate to bore you.”

as if he could.

you don’t say it out loud. instead, you let your gaze drift up to the stars, to the vastness of everything above you.

and you let the realization settle, no matter how terrifying it is. because something’s happening. something has happened in the span of a month already. you have an inkling as to what it is, but you’re not going to admit to it. not yet.

the tiny voice in the back of your mind is here to support you on that cause it seems, chanting in tiny font: just an assistant, just an assistant, just an assistant.

but when jake shifts closer, his shoulder brushing yours ever so slightly, you’re not sure who you’re trying to convince anymore

sixteen.

the office is eerily quiet at this hour, save for the rhythmic scratch of a marker against the whiteboard. the usual hum of ringing phones and hurried conversations has long since died down, leaving behind an almost sacred kind of stillness.

you glance at the clock in jake’s office – 7:34 pm. way past your office hours, but jake’s still in his office.

jake should have gone home hours ago. so should you. and yet, here you are, perched on the edge of his desk, watching as he works through whatever calculations are currently consuming his mind.

you’ve seen this scene play out before, too many times now.

it used to be just an observation. a fleeting thought that it couldn’t be healthy to spend so many hours so completely submerged in work. but lately, that thought has settled into something heavier, something almost akin to concern.

he’s been stuck for the last twenty minutes. you can tell because he’s frowning at the whiteboard like it personally offended him, one hand on his hip, the other tapping the marker absently against his thigh. you can practically see the gears turning in his head, equations unraveling and reforming, one possibility after another spinning behind his sharp gaze.

you don’t know when you started caring like this. you really don’t.

but you do.

so, as you hover near his desk, watching him scribble something with an almost frantic energy, you decide – he needs a break. and you, apparently, have taken it upon yourself to make sure he gets one.

“dr. sim,” you say, but it barely registers. his pen doesn’t even pause. nothing.

with a sigh, you reach forward and pluck the pen right out of his hand.

that gets his attention.

he blinks, finally looking up at you, and you don’t miss the way his brows furrow, like he’s only just realizing you’ve been standing there this whole time. you would have laughed at the way he looks at you like a kicked puppy. like you just snatched his lollipop right from his hands. although, given the situation, that’s an accurate comparison.

“what are you doing?” he asks, voice slightly rough from lack of use.

“saving you from yourself.” you twirl the pen between your fingers, giving him your best unimpressed look. “when’s the last time you took a break?”

he exhales sharply, rubbing his temples. “i don’t have time for a break.”

you shake your head. “that’s not an answer.”

jake lets out a quiet groan, leaning back in his chair. “i just need to finish this.”

“that’s what you said two hours ago.” you glance at the clock pointedly.

his lips press together, but you see the way exhaustion flickers across his features. he’s wearing himself down, the way he always does, and for some reason, that doesn’t sit right with you anymore.

“you look like you’re about to fight that thing,” you tease, breaking the silence.

jake exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “might as well. it’s being stubborn.”

you tilt your head, pretending to examine the mess of symbols and numbers scrawled across the board. you don’t understand a fraction of it, but that’s never stopped you from trying. “have you tried… asking nicely?”

jake gives you a flat look, and you grin, making your way over to the whiteboard in question.

“or,” you continue, voice laced with mischief, “you could let me help. i’m very good at doodling. that squiggly line right there?” you gesture vaguely toward the board. “desperately needs a smiley face.”

for a second, he just stares at you, expression unreadable. then, to your surprise, the corner of his mouth twitches. “that’s not a squiggly line. it’s a sigma notation.”

“yeah, well, i think it would be a lot friendlier if it had some personality.” before he can protest, you lean forward, swiping the marker from his hand. with a few quick strokes, you turn the apparently very serious mathematical symbol into a little doodle of a face, complete with tiny arms raised in triumph.

jake huffs out something that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. “that’s sacrilegious.”

“it’s art,” you correct, grinning as you cap the marker and toss it back to him. “you’re welcome.”

he shakes his head, but there’s a softness there, something warm and reluctant in the way he looks at you. like he can’t quite believe you’re here, in his space, disrupting his routine with something as simple as a smiley face on a whiteboard.

like he hasn’t just surprised himself by not losing his mind over the fact that you just doodled on his very important notes. like he doesn’t even mind.

for a long moment, he just stands there, marker still loosely gripped in his fingers. then, with a quiet sigh, he lifts it and – to your utter delight – draws something beside your doodle.

he started with a small star in the corner – sharp, clean lines. then, next to it, he hesitated before adding another one. then another.

you tilted your head, watching him with something warm in your gaze. “what are you drawing?”

he glanced at you, then back at the board. “…orion’s belt.”

a slow smile stretched across your lips. “of course.”

jake didn’t know why the warmth in your voice made his pulse stutter, but it did. and when you stepped closer, your shoulder brushing his ever so slightly, he felt it even more acutely – the soft graze of fabric against fabric, the fleeting press of warmth before it vanished again

he doesn’t know when he started paying attention to things like this. the way your laughter fills up a room, how effortlessly it winds its way into the air, sinking into the corners of his office like it belongs there. the way you nudge him – not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, in ways no one else ever has.

he doesn’t know when it started, but he knows now that he’s in too deep to ignore it.

because right now, he’s standing at the whiteboard, marker in hand, with you beside him, doodling what can only be described as a catastrophically inaccurate solar system.

and somehow, impossibly, he’s smiling.

actually smiling.

he catches himself in the reflection of the glass across the room, and it startles him a little. he looks different. softer, somehow. the lines of his face, not weighed down by calculations or theories, but by something lighter. something he doesn’t quite have a name for yet.

jake doesn't know how long he stands there, marker in hand, staring at the mess of doodles you've scattered across his once-pristine whiteboard. he should be appalled, maybe even annoyed, but he's neither. if anything, he feels... lighter.

your laughter still lingers in the air, curling around the edges of the quiet like something tangible, something warm. and when you shift beside him, stretching lazily with a satisfied hum, he catches a faint trace of your perfume, something soft and familiar, something he has no right to associate with comfort but does anyway.

"i think we did some great work here," you say, stepping back to admire your collective masterpiece. "a true collaboration between genius and artist."

jake huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "you mean vandalism."

"semantics," you counter easily, nudging his elbow playfully. your touch is fleeting, barely there, but jake still feels it long after you've moved away. he grips the marker tighter than necessary.

you glance at him then, a knowing glint in your eyes. "alright, dr. sim. time for your verdict. did my artistic intervention help at all?"

he exhales slowly, letting his gaze sweep over the board again. and maybe it’s the exhaustion, or maybe it’s you, but he realizes that, somehow, the problem no longer seems as daunting as it did twenty minutes ago. the frantic mess of calculations, the numbers that had refused to align, don’t feel as suffocating now.

it’s absurd. it’s ridiculous. but somehow, your ridiculous doodles make the whole thing feel less intimidating.

jake turns his head slightly, watching you from the corner of his eye. you’re still looking at the board, a pleased little smile on your lips, completely oblivious to the way his mind is currently betraying him.

when did this start? when did you start creeping into his thoughts, into his space, into his carefully structured life with your easy laughter and casual touches? when did your presence start feeling like a constant, like something that belonged?

the realization unsettles him.

he clears his throat, looking away. "it’s… better."

your smile widens, and for some reason, jake has to fight the urge to look away again. "see? i told you i’m helpful."

he rolls his eyes, but there’s no real exasperation behind it. if anything, it’s just an excuse to look at something other than your stupidly pleased expression, which, annoyingly enough, does things to him he’d rather not analyze right now.

"well," you say, clapping your hands together, "my work here is done. i’ve successfully distracted you from overworking yourself into an early grave. i should get a raise."

jake snorts, shaking his head. "you’re already overpaid."

"lies and slander," you gasp dramatically, pressing a hand to your chest. "i should report you to hr for emotional damage."

he’s about to retort when you suddenly step forward, reaching for the marker in his hand. jake’s breath hitches – completely involuntarily, because that’s the only explanation – as your fingers brush against his.

it’s brief. a fraction of a second, really. but it’s enough.

jake freezes.

the touch is light, barely there, but his mind registers it in excruciating detail – the faint press of your skin against his, the subtle warmth of your fingertips. it’s nothing. it’s everything. it’s enough to send his brain into a sudden, inexplicable shutdown.

you don’t seem to notice. or if you do, you pretend not to. you just pluck the marker from his hand and uncap it, adding one final detail to your masterpiece.

jake watches, still unnervingly aware of the ghost of your touch lingering on his skin. his fingers curl slightly, as if trying to hold onto something that’s no longer there.

you step back with a satisfied nod, capping the marker with a flourish. "there. perfect."

he barely registers what you’ve added – a tiny shooting star trailing behind orion’s belt – because he’s too busy trying to school his expression into something neutral, something that doesn’t betray the way his heart is currently behaving like it’s lost all sense of reason.

silence stretches between you for a beat too long. jake wonders if you can hear it – the way his pulse feels too loud, the way his carefully structured composure feels like it’s cracking at the edges.

then, mercifully, you step away, stretching again as you let out a small yawn. "alright, for real this time. i should go before i become permanently attached to this office."

jake nods, not trusting himself to speak just yet.

you glance at him one last time before heading for the door but for a moment, you just stand there, your fingers hovering over the doorknob. then you turn, looking at him with something softer in your gaze. something thoughtful.

"you should go home soon too, dr. sim."

it’s the first time you’ve said his name like that. no teasing, no playful lilt. just quiet. just sincere. jake’s heart clenches, aching to hear you call him but his first name. but he doesn’t say anything. not yet.

and for reasons he can’t quite explain, it sends something dangerously warm curling in his chest.

jake swallows. he nods.

you smile – soft, small, something just for him – and then you’re gone, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you somehow louder than it should be.

jake exhales slowly, staring at the empty space you left behind.

then, finally, he looks back at the whiteboard.

the equations are still there, unsolved. the numbers are still a mess, waiting for him to untangle them. but in the midst of all that, there’s something else now. doodles and stars and smiley faces. a small, stupidly drawn solar system that doesn’t belong in a room like this, in a world like his.

and yet.

jake lifts a hand, absentmindedly tracing a fingertip over the edge of one of your stars.

and yet, somehow, impossibly…it fits.

jake wonders if maybe, just maybe, not everything in his world has to be so rigid, so calculated. maybe some things – some people – aren’t meant to be neatly solved, but simply felt. and as his fingers linger over the soft curve of your drawn star, he realizes, with quiet certainty, that you’re the first anomaly he doesn’t want to solve.

[shares-a-vest]

cw: smoking. also the brief contemplation of drinking and driving (Steve and Eddie would be like this, but don't do it kiddos!!)

Ever since Dustin made the mistake of begging one of his older male friends to help him find the other, his life has been reduced to, well...

Shit like this.

Standing in the middle of Hawkins High's parking lot like a lost puppy, lingering like a wet, rotten fart in Mike's basement as he waits for Steve and Eddie to finish up their conversation. A little chat that must be oh-so-hilarious this evening judging by all the chuckling Steve is doing.

And the fact that Eddie is allowing this new friendship to encroach on Hellfire? Well, that part is just plain weird.

He cut the night off early and pushed ahead of all the boys to skip on his merry way to the Beemer, where Steve was waiting with a big stupid smile that Dustin quickly discovered was for Eddie and Eddie only.

Dustin must have been a fool to ever think it was a good idea for Steve and Eddie to become friends. Oh, how he regrets that crisp spring morning!

Well, maybe he doesn't regret the whole thing. Y'know, saving the world and keeping Max and Eddie alive, and all that.

Dustin purses his lips. Because screw this. Eddie should be more grateful.

He steps forward, narrowing his eyes as he hopes to grab the attention of his traitorous, rude friends.

"Can I help you with something?" Eddie asks after a long moment of nothing but dead-eyed staring back at him like he's the idiot.

"I thought you were driving me home?" Dustin raises a brow to Steve.

But Steve doesn't notice or say anything as Eddie reaches into his jacket pocket to retrieve a lighter and a pack of smokes.

Dustin scrubs a hand over his face. Jesus Christ, he is going to be standing here for hours now!

He should have just taken a chance with Ted Wheeler's snoozefest talk-back radio. Or risked his precious life in Grant's car. Maybe he should have found better friends in the first place. Maybe he should have stopped this friendship from blossoming months ago when Eddie was still half-dead in the hospital.

"I thought you quit smoking?" he says, folding his arms with a disapproving huff.

Eddie makes a face at him as if such a suggestion is utter nonsense. Steve meanwhile, plucks a cigarette from the pack, pauses and glares.

"Was your mom within earshot when I said that?"

"Yes!"

Eddie lights up his own cigarette and then reaches for Steve's. Steve meets him halfway, smirking with a look in his eyes that Dustin cannot help but think is some kind of knowing glance. Great – they must be doing this on purpose!

"Tell your mom we smoke and I'll kick your ass, Henderson," Eddie mumbles around a puff, "We have reputations to uphold."

Steve nods, "Respectable."

Ironically, that oxymoron is when Dustin catches the streetlight reflecting off a can. A beer can. One of a six-pack sitting on the hood of Steve's car. His friend must notice (or more likely, Steve's pea-brain remembers the existence of the beverages) because he quickly straightens up, snaps one free and offers it to Eddie.

Eddie giggles and twirls a lock of his hair before taking the beer. Goddamnit, these two are so irritating!

"What is this, a fucking tailgate?" Dustin shrieks.

"Shut it," Eddie shoots back before he takes – probably too many – desperate slurps.

"Relax, worry wort. I'll get you home before I drink anything."

Eddie holds up his beer and jingles it in Steve's face, taunting him. Steve stops to ponder the temptation – he truly is operating at a snail's pace here! – as he glances between Eddie, the Beemer and the now-five pack. So much for being 'respectable'.

Eddie takes another sip and belches, "Come on, Stevie, let's get the kiddo home."

Steve sighs and pushes himself up from the hood of his car.

"Finally! Thank you!" Dustin sighs, exasperated, "Y'know, none of this was supposed to happen!"

But Steve just pushes past him, spinning his keys on his finger as Eddie scoops up the beers, cradling them like they are his babies.

"Watch your shoes when you get in the car."

"And I'm picking the music."

[donutpwns]

I think about her line about her original goal being about protecting her district partner and how she never really stopped trying to protect the kids. How I don’t know what would be worse, caring for them only to watch them die or watching what the Capitol does to them if they manage to survive. We know from what Druskilla says that the trafficking of victors is already happening by the time of the 50th and Mags was the first victor to be 'elevated' so she got to witness the start of that, if she wasn't a victim of it herself. How she was one of the first mentors, the first one forced to take part in the games every single year, how she has to go home to all the families of children she was powerless to protect just as she couldn't protect her partner. How so often the most she could probably do is what she did for Haymitch, be a shoulder for them to cry into.

And if I said Mags was one of the most tragic characters in The Hunger Games? What then?

No but seriously this woman lived an entire lifetime with the cruelty of the Capitol and the games, watching as it twisted and changed and found new ways to torture the people of the districts. And for years and years, decade after decade, she mentored these kids (even ones not from her district). She cared for them and watched them die, over 100 kids.

And yet when we see her in Catching Fire she is still kind and capable of joy. She cares so much about not only Finnick but Katniss, who she’s only just met. And she is still fighting for the rebellion, hoping for a better future after 80 years.

And then she dies. She dies in the arena, sacrificing herself for the people she loves and for the hope of a brighter future. She dies in the arena, the very thing that has haunted her entire life, the thing that has stolen so much from her. And she dies without ever getting to see a future free from the Capitol and The Games.

[motorsportbarbie13]

Post It - Part 6 - LN4

when lando stumbles upon a random tiktok of a pretty american influencer, he can't stop himself from sliding into her DMs. what happens next is more than both of them ever bargained for.

warnings/notes: angsty and descriptions of anxiety. swearing. Big giant huge thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl as usual for helping me out with the motivation in this chapter. You’re the bestest 🫶🏻. pairing: lando norris x influencer!reader word count: 4.3k words

|| - Part 1 || - Part 2 || - Part 3 || - Part 4 || - Part 5 ||

*Transcript of sit down interview between McLaren Formula 1 Driver Lando Norris & ESPN Commentator David Croft (“Crofty”) LIVE on ESPN* 

Crofty: This year has started out with a lot of pressure on you, more so than years before. 

Lando: *grinning* Yeah, it’s a bit nuts isn’t it?

Crofty: Well deserved though, well deserved. After your performance in Abu Dhabi and then the first few races this year, it’s been non-stop pressure.

Lando: It has, but the pressure is a good thing. At least for me it is. It means we’re doing good, the expectations going into this year were high and so far it seems like the team and I are living up to them. 

Crofty: I’d say so. A win in Australia, Japan, and last time out in Saudi Arabia. For someone who just got their first win in Formula 1 last year, that’s a lot of success real quick. 

Lando: The team worked hard, I worked hard, we all deserve the rewards of it. 

Crofty: How has it been personally? You look like a different person compared to last year. A lot more confident, more relaxed. Are you doing anything different this year? 

Lando: I mean, coming off the Constructors win last year was a huge boost to my confidence. I’ve got a lot of good people in my corner and I’m focusing on finding time between races to really center myself and make sure I tune out the noise.  

Crofty: Tuning out the noise. What does that look like?

Lando: I’ve been using those off-weeks when I’m not in Woking to disconnect. My girlfriend and I spent the week before the Japan GP in Osaka. We just totally unplugged from everything. It was really nice. 

Crofty: (smirks because he *knows* he’s got a viral clip on his hands.) And then you went and won that race?

Lando: *nods, small smile on his lips* I did. 

When Lando finishes his interview with Crofty ahead of the Miami GP in May, the first thing he sees is his press officer looking like she swallowed a lemon. 

“Everything okay, Corinne?” He asks, following her towards McLaren’s hospitality where they have some more content to film later that afternoon. 

“Next time you confirm the fact that you have a girlfriend to Crofty on Live TV, could you at least give me some warning?” She snaps back, fingers flying furiously over the keyboard of her iPhone. 

Lando stops in his tracks, starting after his press officer as she continues to speed walk through the sweltering Miami heat. “I did what?” He chokes, suddenly terrified to open his phone. 

Corinne stops, finally noticing her charge isn’t beside her anymore, trowing him a ‘are you kidding me’ look. “‘My girlfriend and I spent the week before the Japan GP in Osaka’” She mimics.  “Does that ring a bell, Norris?” 

Despite the humidity, Lando breaks out in a cold sweat. You probably hadn’t seen the interview yet, you were flying into Miami from Boston right now and as far as he knew you hadn’t landed. “Oh God,” He groans. “She’s going to kill me.” 

Corinne looks up at him, taking a momentary break from monitoring the comments on McLaren’s latest post. ESPN hadn’t posted the clip but she was certain once someone registered what Lando had said, it would be up on all platforms. Twitter was starting to chatter about it now though, so it was only a matter of time before it broke elsewhere.

 “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think? You two have been begging people to gossip about you since she showed up at the track with you in China. Much to my dismay, might I add.” 

That was true, Lando supposed. The Japan trip had been a turning point, with both of you freely and brazenly including the other in your own social media. Nothing had ever been confirmed but it had been obvious and when you both had seen the kind of engagement and fun fans were having, you both kind of leaned into it. 

So, it wasn’t the fact that he thought you’d want to hide. That wasn’t it at all. 

“She’s going to kill me because I haven’t actually asked her to be my girlfriend yet.” He groans before reaching for his phone. 

“Lando Norris.” Corinne sighs heavily, shaking her head. 

Lando trails behind Corrine as he types a quick text to you, ignoring the amount of red bubbles above his Intagram and Twitter icons. That was not a good sign. 

*Whatever you do, don’t check any socials before you call me when you land.* 

In hindsight, he probably could have led with a different message but in his defense, he was beginning to spiral. Everything had been going so well between you two and he was so scared to rock the boat. You’d been all but confirming your relationship since Japan but you hadn’t ever really hard launched anything. Mostly because you hadn’t discussed it. You knew you were a better person when he was around and he knew that he craved your presence like starved man in the desert. You and Lando were both a bit gun shy when it came down to it though so the serious discussion of what you two meant to each other just hadn’t happened.

As he walks behind Corinne back to hospitality, another wave of panic washes over him. Girlfriend. You two had known each other for less than six months. He knew how he felt and how full send he was prepared to go for you but what if this was too fast for you? What if, while you didn’t want to be hidden or denied, being outed like this so quickly was going to be too much for you? He knew about your anxiety, the pressure you faced, the way you took things to heart just a little bit too much. He knew that because he saw himself do that and recognized it in you instantly. 

What if publicly outing you too quickly scared you off? 

“Lando, are you okay?” A thick Australian accent yanks Lando out of his spiral. His head snaps up to see Oscar standing in the middle of the second level of the hospitality suite. 

He wasn’t even sure how the hell he got up here, to be honest. 

Lando groans as he sits down on one of the couches in the open room, watching as Corinne joins some of the other comms staff probably trying to figure out how best to fix his blunder. 

Oscar looks around, fairly confused. He’d just woken up from a quick nap ahead of some more media obligations and had no idea what was going on. “What happened now?” 

Lando shoots him a look, as if Oscar wasn’t totally aware of his teammates innate ability to put his foot square into his mouth at the most inopportune times. “I resent the fact that you just assume I fucked up.” 

Oscar just blinks at him, patiently waiting. 

It takes a few moments before Lando huffs, throwing his hands up in the air. “I called her my girlfriend during my interview with Crofty.” 

Oscar quirks a brow. “Is she not your girlfriend?” He asks carefully. 

“We haven’t talked about it and now she’s going to think I’m a psycho outing our relationship to the public without even discussing it with her first.” Tipping his head  against the back of the couch, he closes his eyes. “Relationship? I don’t even know what the fuck we’re doing or if she even wants to be in a relationship.” 

“You’ve never talked about it?” 

Lando sits with the question for a moment. He was obsessed with you, that was for sure. He craved being around you and was starting to feel like he knew you deeper than anyone else in his life. But beyond the very ‘in the moment’ relationship you two seem to have been developing, there hadn’t been much discussion about the future. About what spending time together now meant for a year from now. 

10 years from now. 

And now he’s sped up the timeline of having that very scary, very serious discussion all because of his stupid mouth. 

A discussion that needed to happen though, to see if you two were on the same page. He knew what he wanted and it was you but you always seemed to shy away from talk of the future, from talk beyond the next few months. 

What if you didn’t see a future with him and you were just enjoying the moment with him because you knew it wouldn’t last? What if you didn’t want him for the long haul and what if he had just brought everything delicate and raw to the surface where it didn’t belong?

“Fuck, Osc. I wanted this to be different. I wanted to do things different with her. Better.” He glances up towards his teammate who’s looking at him with soft, understanding eyes. They’d become close over the 2 plus years they’d been teammates and Oscar hated seeing his friend like this. “I wanted to be better for her and here I am, still the same fuck up that can’t watch my mouth and now it’s going to ruin everything. I already got a second chance with her, I don’t think the universe is going to give me a third.”  

Miami race weekend was supposed to be a fun weekend. It was supposed to be the first time in two weeks that you’d seen Lando since leaving him after the Bahrain race. It was supposed to be a weekend spent in the face paced world that revolved around this man that smiled at you with stars in his eyes. 

But it started off as anything but. 

You had stayed up until 3am the night before, attempting to finish editing your most recent travel vlog that followed you from Bahrain to the brand trip in London and then home where you’d been for the last two weeks. Once you had nearly finished you had practically passed out, forgetting to set a second and third alarm like you usually needed to when you pulled a late night. As a result, you had slept through your one and only alarm. Normally it wouldn’t have been a problem because you were psycho about getting to the airport early enough and you usually had plenty of time from when you woke up to the time you had to leave but apparently today was going to be an exception to the rule. 

When your third Uber canceled on you, you knew you were in for a difficult travel day. Finally on your fourth try, you had to order a more expensive Uber Black but it got you to the airport just in time. Thankfully, the security line was short enough so you weren’t booking it through the airport at a flat out run, just a light little jog. 

And then as soon as you went to pay for your over-priced smoothie and croissant sandwich for breakfast, you realized you had left your debit card at home. Thankfully, you always carried a credit card or two just in case, but it was going to be annoying to have to make that extra step at the end of the month to make sure you paid off the balance of the credit card instead of just using cash. 

With the late arrival and card debacle you were able to get to your gate just as boarding was finishing up and you barely made it onto the plane. As soon as you flopped into your window seat in first class, stretching out while looking forward to the sick nap you were about to take to make up for your lack of sleep the night before you realized you had left your headphones at home. 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” You sigh, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. 

It was almost just too much. The lack of sleep, the forgotten debit card, the fact that you missed Lando so fiercely it was starting to scare you. It all just felt like too much to deal with and suddenly, as you sat in the seat listing to a baby back in economy start to sob violently as the plane pulled away from the gate, you wondered if you really should be going on this trip at all. Because it certainly seemed like the universe was throwing everything it had at you to keep you away from Miami. 

In a break from how your day seemed to be going, your flight takes off on time but the flight itself is a drawn out exercise in frustration. The baby’s cries, initially a sharp piercing sound morph into a dull, persistent ache behind your eyes. You had brought a book to read but every time you attempted to start the next chapter, the words just blurred together in a watercolor mess of ink and anger. 

Every bump of turbulence, every ding of the seatbelt sign, every offer of assistance from the well-meaning flight attendant pushes you just a bit closer to the edge until you’re ready to scream half way over South Carolina. You were desperate for a glass of some sort of alcohol, longing for the way the drink would dull your senses and lull you into what you knew would be a fitful sleep. But at least it would be sleep. 

You didn’t ask for anything though, knowing that the Miami heat you were about to spend the weekend in would not be good mixed with a hangover. Not to mention it was about 11 o’clock in the morning. Getting drunk, even in first class, seemed like a good way to tempt fate and ask for trouble. Besides, you wanted to be fully present when you finally got to see Lando after what felt like an eternity away from him. You didn’t want to extend your streak of bad luck you were experiencing today so instead of dropping off to sleep with the help of some wine, you settled for staring out the window. 

Eventually, a few hours into the flight, you try to distract yourself by finishing the last bits of editing your vlog needed before posting it but just the thought of starting at a screen for any length of time makes your head throb even worse. Instead, you’re left with your own thoughts, which spiraled into a vortex of anxieties. You had a habit of creating the most ridiculous worst case scenarios in your mind when you were like this, all worked up and sleep deprived. You should have pulled yourself out of the anxiety spiral but you miss all the signs of where you’re headed until it’s too late. 

Thoughts of Lando and how much you miss him and the strange uncertain territory your relationship was at dominate your thoughts. How, despite spending a stupid amount of time with him and getting to know him on a level that you’d never experienced before, you were still uncertain with where you stood with him. Close enough to post each other on your socials, spinning up rumors and speculation but not close enough for him to ask you to be more than…whatever it was you were doing.  

By the time the plane began its descent into Miami, your body felt like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. You were exhausted, frustrated, and overwhelmed. The thought of facing whatever awaited you in Miami felt like a challenge you weren’t ready to deal with, even if you had no idea if anything at all was even going to go wrong. You could just feel it in your bones something was going to happen. It was just that kind of day. 

You knew, deep down, that you were being dramatic and that everything you’d dealt with today were just a string of minor inconveniences but for whatever reason, they felt like the heaviest things you could carry. It felt like the weight of the world had settled heavy and thick on your shoulders and you tried not to wander into the thinking that maybe this weekend was a mistake. 

And then you switched your phone back on as soon as the plane landed and your worst fears were confirmed. An explosion of notifications littering the screen along with an ominous text from Lando: Whatever you do, don’t check any socials before you call me when you land.

Oh fuck. 

 The doubts that you’d spent the entire flight stewing over resurface all over again, panic washing over you like a tsunami. As you wait for the plane to get to the gate, the scenarios of what could have happened in the brief time you were flying race through your head. You choose not to check social media, wanting to hear the worst of it from Lando himself. You’re certain it’s bad because he didn’t follow it up with anything light hearted like he usually does. No jokes. No silly memes. Nothing. Just ‘call me when you land’. 

Fuck. 

Maybe he’d been caught cheating on you. But was it cheating if you’d never actually had a conversation about what you were to each other? Probably not but you knew it would still hurt like hell. You hoped it wasn’t with Allegra, although she had been spotted in Saudi Arabia. Lando had never mentioned her though so…

Maybe he’d been photographed with a different girl all together. Maybe he was bored of you. You’d been accused of being just another bland blond influencer more times than you could count and maybe Lando had finally started to see the same things your critics did. Maybe he’d deleted all of his posts with you because you were bad for his image. 

The scenarios flew through your mind, spreading like wildfire as you followed your seat mate off the plane. The airport was busy, with people arriving for the race weekend already and the typical crowds that Miami attracted combining together to create an unusually busy terminal. You didn’t want to do this here though. Not in the middle of an airport. You refused to cry in public and you just knew that that’s exactly what was coming. 

It takes you nearly half an hour before you’re able to find a quiet corner tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the busy airport. You had to do this now before you left just in case you needed to make an emergency trip back to Boston. Which you suspected you’d need to do once you got done speaking with Lando. 

How had it gone so bad so quickly? You were just thinking about how much you missed him. How you wanted to talk to him later tonight about what you two were doing, what you meant to him and how much he was beginning to mean to you. And here you were, about to get dumped before you were even official. 

Tapping his contact info in your phone, you decide it’s time to face the music. 

Lando picks up after one ring. 

“Hi baby.” His voice is shaky when he answers, thick with nerves. 

Here it comes, you think, leaning against the cool stone wall of the alcove you’ve tucked yourself into, hoping it gives you some privacy when he drops the news of whatever’s happened. 

“Hi Lan.” You breathe, voice equally as shaky. “So…what happened?” 

“Fuck. I’m so sorry baby but…” His voice drops away and you squeeze your eyes shut, fingers gripping at the handle of your tote bag. “I slipped up in my interview with Crofty about an hour ago and called you my girlfriend on live tv.” 

You swear your heart stops and your stomach drops out of your body. 

“What?” You whisper, blinking away tears that have been threatening since you slept through your alarm this morning. 

Lando sighs heavily, “I know. I’m so sorry, my love. I really am. It wasn’t intentional, I swear. I guess I’ve been calling you my girlfriend in my head for so long, it just kind of slipped out. I didn’t even realize what I’d said until Corinne pointed it out ” 

He is totally spiraling, you realize. Just like you are but for a totally different reason. “Lan…” You start but he interrupts you before you can even get his name out of his mouth.

“I know, I know! I fucked up. I am so sorry, baby. So fucking sorry. I’ve been working so hard the last few months to think before I open my mouth but Crofty was asking how I’m handling the pressure this year and it just…came out. Talking about you and how you’re helping me deal. It just felt natural, calling you my girlfriend. I didn’t even blink. And now you’re probably freaking out because we haven’t even discussed what we mean to each other and I just went ahead like a bull in a china shop.” Lando drags in a shaky breath on the other line and you tip your head back against the wall. 

“Lando…” You try to interrupt but he’s on a roll. 

“I wanted to do this right. I wanted to tell you how you make me want to be a better person, how your presence calms the noise in my head and how when I’m around you I feel like I can breathe. How the last two weeks without you have been fucking shit because I can’t seem to sleep without you next to me. But instead, I had to open my fucking mouth to Crofty and ruin everything…” 

The genuine panic in his voice tugs at your heart. Here you were worrying that he was about to break up with you, to confess he’d been hooking up with other girls while you’d been in Boston but he had just simply outed your relationship to the press? You can hear the genuine panic in his voice, the fear that he’s ruined everything. Lando is so convinced you’re going to be furious, that you’re going to reject him, that he’s tripping over his words trying to explain himself and confessing things he probably didn’t mean to.

Suddenly, something unexpected happens. 

You start to laugh.  

It bubbles up from deep within you. It’s a wave of relief and amusement that washes over you. All of the tension, the anxiety, the fear of being rejected you’d been spiraling over for the last however many hours just dissipates in a burst of laughter. 

“You’re…laughing?” Lando asks, confusion clawing at his voice. “But…I thought you’d be mad.” 

“Mad?” You repeat, still chuckling. “Lando, I’ve had the absolute worst day today and then I get that text from you? I’ve been picturing every worst-case scenario imaginable for the past hour. I thought you’d been caught with another girl or you’d decided you didn’t want me or…I don’t know, something equally as dramatic. Calling me your girlfriend on live TV? That’s tame compared to where my brain was going.” 

“Cheating?” Lando scoffs, relief flooding his entire body as he listens to you chuckle. “Jesus Christ, baby, I’m obsessed with you. You should know that by now.” He pauses, dragging in a breath. “So, you’re not mad?” 

“Not even a little bit.” You say, your laughter subsiding finally, a smile playing on your lips. “In fact, I think it’s kind of sweet. Also a unique way to finally hard launch. How mad is Corinne?” 

Now it’s Lando’s turn to laugh. “Oh she was pissed at me but I think she’s happy she’ll finally get to stop seeing the comments asking the official McLaren account if we’re actually dating or not.” 

“I’m going to get some wine and chocolate for the entire comms team on my way to the track for what they put up with from us.” You murmur, standing up to stretch out your aching muscles. Mood lightened, you start towards baggage claim so you can attempt to find an Uber to get to the hotel. 

Lando chuckles, “Are you still at the airport?” 

You hum, “I hid myself in an alcove because I didn’t want to cry when you dumped me before we were even official.” 

Lando groans, “I’m so sorry. That text probably wasn’t the best thing to lead with, was it?” 

You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips. “No, lets add that to the list of things not to start off a conversation with.” 

“Done.” Lando chuckles. “Now can you please go find the driver I sent for you and get your ass to the track? I really fucking miss you.” 

Your eyes soften as you walk through the final doors of the terminal where the baggage claim was along with the hired drivers. “You sent a driver for me?” 

“Of course I did. He’ll get you to the paddock and then take your bags to the hotel. I booked you your own room but you if you want you can stay with me this weekend…” 

Something warms deep in your belly as you spot the man dressed in black holding a sign with your name written on it. “Cancel the other room, Lan. I want to stay with you this weekend.” 

You can practically hear Lando’s shoulders sag in relief. “Okay. Now please hurry to the track, I’m 2 weeks behind in kisses.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” You chuckle as you approach the driver Lando sent for you. 

“Ridiculously obsessed with you.” He quips. 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.” You roll your eyes, but smile despite how cheesy his line was.

“See you soon, my love!” Lando shouts before you end the call, smile on your lips and an extra bit of kick in your step as you follow the driver towards the car.

lando posted

lando oops. secrets outtt yourusername STRAIGHT to jail for that second one >>>lando but you're so cute, pretty girl ❤️ >>>yourusername unfair use of my favorite nickname, 5 second time penalty. >>>lando i'm taking this to the stewards >>>yourusername ok, george russel >>>user938 now this is the content we've been BEGGING for >>>user223 oh she is going to be a PROBLEM. I love it. user109 SECRET??? boy bye. you two were the worst kept secret on the internet. User238 anyone got eyes on Allegra??? 👀 👀👀

yourusername posted

yourusername can confirm ☺️ lando god DAMN your boyfriend is a lucky man >>>yourusername ikr??? user928 girl is out here living the DREAM >>>user029 nah, lando's the lucky one. out here waking up to HER. (liked by @/lando) user2929 literally the 'cute couple aesthetic' from pinterest user445 the way he just confidently said 'my girlfriend and i'. i've NEVERRRRR seen him act like this before. >>>user202 ik allegra WISHES this was her >>>user445 oh she is somewhere in europe SEETHING rn

its_allegra_babes posted

its_allegra_babes miami for a bit...heard there was a car race going on or something ;) user939 ohhhhhhhh no babes. there is still time to delete this user029 oh. oh no. who's gonna tell her? >>>user299 SHHHH lets see what happens when she finds out herself user002 oh this is going to be messy. user0929 starting a gofundme to send SOMEONE to the paddock this weekend to just...record.

Tag List: @shelbyteller, @martygraciesversion381, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff @sarx164 @xoxomansee

[linkons-most-wanted]

LIs Build IKEA furniture

I couldn’t get this out of my head, so enjoy 🤣

Zayne ❄️

Immediately takes charge of the process, doesn’t realize he’s doing so until you tease him about it

Treats the process like a surgery, you become the assistant. “Hex wrench. Number sixteen screw. Panel C in a vertical orientation.” When you tease him, he pretends to brush it off but then leans into the bit. “Phillips head screwdriver, stat.”

Never gets confused by the diagrams. Quietly notes errors and typos in the instructions. Seems to be able to use the tiniest details to know the correct orientation for each piece

Somehow had sandpaper on hand for when the pieces don’t fit perfectly

You hardly got a chance to look at the instructions but he still made you feel like an essential part of the process

Furniture is assembled perfectly in record time

Xavier 💫

Happy to help you out, starts reading the instructions while you sort the parts

Falls asleep reading the instructions

You take charge, waking him up on step 3 when you need him to hold something. He falls asleep holding it but somehow doesn’t drop it

When you ask for a part he just stares at the pile and picks up random things to offer you until he gets the right one or you point directly at it

Ask for the same part a second time, “Which was it again?”

You attach the last part and turn to high-five him—he’s sleeping again

Rafayel 🎨

“You want to spend time on this weird project instead of hanging out with me?” “This is us hanging out.” “What? But it’s boring. Can’t we, like, get someone else to put it together?”

You start building anyway

When you ask for something specific (“hold this”) he does so without hesitation but keeps complaining

“If I have to hold this board up any longer I’m going to get wrist cramps and then I won’t be able to paint for a week!”

“Ow ow, I think that gave me a splinter! Look at it! It might get infected! I need first aid, like, immediately.”

“This color is boooring, we should paint it later.”

This might be taking longer than if you just built it yourself

Sylus 🚗

“Did you steal this?” “No.” “Then why is it still in pieces?” “It’s how they sell it. It saves money.” “Why didn’t you say something? I’ll take you to a real furniture store.” “I want this exact one though.” “Can’t you pay them to assemble it?”

All you have to say is “I guess you’re not up for the challenge” and then he’s sitting on the floor next to you, also staring at the instructions

You both get confused on the same steps. Which side goes up again? Can you tell by the number of holes? Eventually you both shrug and hope for the best. Sylus brute forces a few pieces that probably don’t actually go together.

You realize you put a piece on backwards three steps ago and Sylus patiently helps you backtrack and fix it

“You’re being surprisingly cooperative.” “I am?” “Yeah, I thought you’d be way more annoyed.” “I never feel annoyed when I’m with you.”

“Where did that piece go?” (Mephisto stole it, it was shiny)

Caleb 🍎

“Hey Pipsqueak, remember when I built that bed for you? Even though you were in high school you still reeeeally wanted a pink one…” “Ugh, stop! It’s embarrassing!”

Takes the bag of pieces and the instruction book right away, uses his gravity Evol to hold up the parts. “Caleb, you took all the jobs! Let me help!” “You can help by getting us some snacks.”

“Caleb, I don’t think that goes there.” “Of course it does, are you really going to doubt the mechanical skills of a former fighter pilot?” Ten minutes later when it’s clear you were right the whole time: “Caleb, you dummy.”

“I switched the delivery notification number in your account over to my phone number since you’re going to need me to build whatever you buy, anyway.”

“You should come over to help me build my furniture too.” “But you didn’t let me help at all!” “Snack duty is very important, Pipsqueak.”

[starconstruction]

Friendly Gigs: Spur of the Moment

Pornstar Sakura x Pornstar Male Reader

smut tags: porn video, rough, pussy eating, ass eating, 69, throatfucking, daddy kink, face painting, gaping, pronebone, anal fingering, anal creampie, pussy fingering, objectification. Reader shows sympathy at the end, all fiction in the end of the day.

Word Count: 1693

happy sakura day, or slightly late? i dont know, i forgot all about it so heres something light.

can be read standalone but is part 2 of friendly gigs, read part 1 here

The sounds of chatter came from your TV, listening to whatever was playing. Laying comfortably down on your bed, not tired but just relaxing. Sakura was somewhere in the house, after all she lived with you. Made the rent cheaper.

It's like thinking of her summoned her, Sakura opening the door without knocking. Wearing pajamas, pink shorts that swallowed her ass with a white "Fuck me like you mean it" shirt on.

"Oh hey Sakura" you said casually, turning back to the television.

"Heyo, I'm not going to lie Y/N." She climbed onto your bed, sitting on your lap. Arms wrapping around your neck as she purred, "I'm bored."

"Okay? What does that have to do with me Sakura?" You asked, hands embracing her back in return.

"Well, we could make some money..." She whispered, your body tightened at her words.

"Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?" You asked, eager as ever. Was it the money or her? Probably both.

"Crazy amounts of dirty talk, you throatfucking me and a special surprise I'll set up. Sound good?" Her bluntness made you reel, but you nodded so so fast.

"Good boy... I'll go get ready."

-

The camera locked in on you, sat in your desk as you had an excel sheet open. Pretending to work as Sakura waltzed in, taking long strides as she appeared next to you. Camera basking in her glory, shorts replaced with a thin pantyhose - which revealed her underwearless pussy - that emphasized her curves.

"Daddy... Stop working already! I'm so needy!" She whined, voice uncomfortably shill as it pierced your ears.

"Not now, I have an important project to work on." You responded, voice comparatively calm.

"Bu-"

"No."

Her body jumped over you, turning the computer off as the show started to roll, she was about to get the fucking of a lifetime.

"Fine, you fucking whore! You want my cock so bad? Take it!" You grabbed her body, manhandling her frame as you threw her onto her knees. You ripped your trousers off, meaty cock right in front of her face.

"Such a big cock da-" You shut her off, jamming your shaft right in the opening. Eyes widening with sudden surprise as she took you into her whorish mouth, using her mouth like the cheapest fleshlight.

"Take it! Fucking take it slut! " You growled, her mouth was warm, hot and delightful. Entirely at your whims as you hit the back of her throat, which vibrated against your tip as you punched it with your cock.

You let her breathe, pulling out of her fuckhole as she panted. "I fucking love choking on this, Daddy more!" She begged, taking it in her hand. Rubbing the meat into her face, saliva coating her luscious cheeks as your cock found it's way back inside.

"Such an impatient, desperate, insatiable whore!" You yelled, hands gripping her hair as her body bent to your whims. Thrusting deep into her throat, back and forth. The viewers deserved more than this, going off book. Pulling out again as Sakura drooled down her lips, looking up at you with her best puppy eyes.

"Lay on the floor, needy slut." She complied immediately, you followed. Cock finding her mouth as she slurped up your meat like it was her favorite thing. You had your own ideas, ripping her leggings right where her holes were. The torn fabric giving prime access to her ass, tongue delving right onto her asshole, rimming the flesh as you slapped her fat cheeks, jiggling for the camera.

"Such a good fucking ass for a good whore." You praised, licking up and down. She made noises that were completely unrecognizable, sinful retches as she gagged on your cock.

Your tongue alternated between both holes, drinking in her juices then tonguing her perfect asshole, pulling her in as you ate her out.

"Gonna finger this ass, you want that right whore?" You asked, listening to her positive hum as you wet your finger in her filthy juices, finger fucking her hole as you sucked on her folds. The scene was so hot, obscene. You were always improving.

Her ass gripped onto your finger, greedily accepting the second one that followed. Her entire body getting thoroughly fucked, "You are my whore, take it all!" You yelled, feeling her hands fondle your full balls as you kept fucking her throat.

You were close to orgasm, needing to pull away from her pussy. Grabbing her body as you picked her up, sitting her on the chair as she arched forward. "Jerk me off slut, paint your face." You moaned, Sakura's hand jerking your meat with hungry eyes. Tongue outwards as you shot your semen all over her chin, tongue and forehead. Painting her with your filth as she smiled, "Thank you for the load Daddy." swallowing what pooled on her tongue.

You shut the camera off, rushing to Sakura's side. "You okay Sakura? That was a lot..." You asked, rushing back with a towel.

She stopped you.

"I'm fine, but we aren't finished remember?" You had completely forgot, the thought rushing heat back down below.

"Let's go, Y/N." She purred, getting off your messy chair. You'll wash it later.

-

Sakura laid bent over your toilet, legs spread open as you resumed eating her slutty pussy. Giving the audience a POV shot of her ass with the GoPro attached to your head, getting to see her sweaty back. You readjusted your head, trapping the audience in her thick cheeks for a second.

"EAT MY PUSSY, FUCK!" She screamed, head dangling over the edge of your toilet as she took your tongue that writhed in between her slippery folds, slurping up her liquid. Your hands grabbed her cheeks, spreading her asshole for your loving fans.

"Daddy, fuck my asshole please!" She chimed, you got up. Rubbing your prelubed cock against her ass, Sakura gasped as she turned to face you. Cum caked onto her fan alongside the earlier saliva.

You entered her backdoor quickly, warmed up from your fingers and her previous sessions. Her warmth wrapped around you, clamped firmly as she tried to suffocate your cock. Your head went numb from the pleasure as you thrusted your big cock into her ass.

"OH GOD!" She yelled, struggling against your harsh rams. Cock entering and leaving the sinful hole of Sakura, the sight of your length pressing in and getting swallowed was so divine to witness.

Her arms grabbed onto the toilet for support, getting treated like a fleshlight once more. "USE ME USE ME!" She yelled, feeling your fingers on her clit once more, screaming at the top of her lungs.

You thanked your lucky stars that you picked this house, separated from any neighbors so they couldn't complain about the rawdogging Sakura was taking.

"Oh wow!" She screamed, on cloud nine. You were slowly getting addicted to her asshole, pulling her off the toilet as you fucked her standing up, the new angle felt even better as it took an olympic amount of effort to fuck her. Worth it.

You licked her neck, not caring for the viewers as you lapped her sweat. Pushing her body against the door, her bubble butt popped out as you spanked her luxurious flesh.

"Such a fucking whore, getting banged in the bathroom because of your impatience!" You growled, fingers shoved into her pussy as you used her for your own pleasure. Falling into your character.

"Yes! Yes I'm a whore! Fuck me harder!" She screamed, hands pressed up against the door as you fucked her into it. Rattling under your thrusts.

"I don't know, do you deserve it?" You asked, slowing your movement to a halt as she whined

"Yes! I deserve this cock! Please!" She sobbed, cracking under the sudden lack of pleasure.

"Prove it then!" You pulled out, turning her around as she took your dick in her mouth again, tasting her ass as she fucked her mouth on your cock, giving the camera a show as she showed her fluttering fucked out eyes.

"Damn! Such a good mouth!" You let her slobber on your cock for a good while, letting yourself enjoy the moment as she gagged for you.

"Fuck okay you proved it..." You praised, manhandling her as you pressed her into the bathroom ground, sticking yourself into her ass as you proneboned her. Firmly inside as the new angle provided a new level of tightness, one unfathomable.

"Fuck! Fuck me into this filthy floor!" She begged, the length dipping in and out with a harsh sting.

You spat on your hand, collecting a healthy amount before you lifted her head, covering her mouth as she licked your spit out of your generous palm. "Eat my fucking spit!"

You spat on her asscheeks, rubbing in the transparent liquid as you kept pumping. Masturbating yourself with her ass, bringing yourself to the apex as you were so close to cumming.

"You want my cum? Want it so bad?" You asked, voice a loud howl.

"Y-Yeah! Fill my asshole with your load! I'm your whore fuck!" Her words were the catalyst, filling her ass with semen your hand rubbed her clit, squirting her juices against the floor as it pooled over the floor.

"Fuck..." You let out involuntarily, watching her gaping asshole filled with your load. Recording the entire scene of your fucked out pornstar friend.

You ended the recording once more, discarding the GoPro as you picked her up out of the shared bodily fluids. "You okay Saku?" The nickname was accidental, but she either didn't care or didn't notice. Cum leaking out onto her legs as you held her close.

"Y-Yeah... That was a lot, even for me.." She said, panting and gasping.

"I'm sorry." You replied.

"Don't be, you did what I asked, though. I can barely walk, help me shower?"

"Of course Sakura." You helped her in the shower.

-

Sakura laid in her bed, drinking the water you grabbed her as she recovered, watching the TV.

"I'm going to go clean the house, rest up." You said.

"Come back when you are done! Let's have a movie night!"

What a night.

This one was doing numbers.