#like if someone asked me “hey how you figure out your labels?” how would I explain a fictional skeleton man that kills people

[toffeesbabbles]

Bro, someone hced killer as aceflux. I was like... looking into right. I think I may be aceflux 😭😭😭😭 LMAOOOO!!!

[kairakeiji]

note: situationship/fwb!

how do you hate something you once loved?

atsumu used to think this all the time. the way you fooled everyone with stolen moments, silly photos, and lies that made the world believe you were his. he doesn’t deny the way he relished in your touch, in the faux comfort your words gave him, even if you both had no label. you would never truly be his. atsumu made sure of that after his mistake, the mistake that felt like it had taken away the only thing that truly made him sane.

why am i here?

he stands outside your door, uncertain of how he got here. honestly, atsumu swears he blacked out. but somehow, his trip back to his place turned into a supposed wrong left turn onto a road that led straight to your apartment, the place that some part of his brain still believes is home.

he won’t ever forget your last argument. you both never had a label, never defined the relationship, yet there you both were screaming as if you did. he spent one night with someone else, one drunken night that he finds himself regretting more often than not. it was never off the table, it was never fully discussed, despite how much he told you he regretted it, despite how much he told you it was a mistake. yet the way you cried and screamed and hit him in every place you knew he was vulnerable led to the state you were both in now. angered, isolated, with an unknown amount of tension and rage murmuring between you both.

separate, without ever getting the chance to be together.

how do you hate something you once loved?

atsumu stands outside your door, partly paralyzed and dazed out. what if you’re not even home? what if you’re out seeing other people and moving on and forgetting him? a part of him feels pathetic, still wishing for something that never truly belonged to him. a part of him misses you, a part of him still wishes you were still a text or a phone call away, that you could still be in his arms, and that he can live in the false narrative of being yours.

can you even stop loving someone?

he knocks without thinking.

a beat goes by, then another, and then one more. the silence leads to his thoughts running a million miles a minute. one question, one hypothetical, one worry following the next. the guilt hits him again and the silence seems to mock him. he steps back from your door, figure slumping slightly.

atsumu swears he hears the doorknob turn.

the door opens hesitantly, his heart beginning to pound.

and then he sees you.

how do you stop time?

“hey,” his voice doesn’t come out the way he had hoped it would. it’s a bit too high and a little too quiet.

“what are you doing here?” your voice doesn’t come out the way he knows it does. it’s shaky and timid, rather than the typical upbeat tone you carried. your eyes looked swollen, the hoodie you wore covering most of your figure and hair.

his heart sinks, “i wish i could tell you.”

“can you leave then?” his heart drops at the way your voice quivers. “i kind of don’t want to see you right now, i’m sorry.”

“can i ask you something first?” atsumu tries. “one question and then i’ll leave you alone i swear. you never have to hear from me again after that.”

you shake your head, “you know i don’t want that, tsumu.”

tsumu…he loves it when you call him that.

how do you want something so desperately? how do you want something more than anything else in the world and not know how to fully say it?

atsumu steps closer to the door, “so you’ll hear me out?”

the door opens more as you step out of the shadows of your apartment.

“was it real to you?” atsumu questions.

you scoff, “of all things you have to ask me.”

“just answer,” he meets your gaze, and his heart sinks at how sullen your eyes are. “please.”

“of course it was,” you tell him. “i know we weren’t together, well, relationship-wise at least. but i meant everything i said and everything i did.” you shake your head, blinking rapidly. “that’s why what you did hurt so much.”

“i know and-”

“please let me finish,” your voice is gentle, laced with the reassurance he grew to depend on, the same tone you used every time he lost a game or failed a test. “i don’t know what we are…or were. i just knew everything was real,” you meet his eyes. “everything was so real.”

memories play in atsumu’s head. the time he made you ditch your class just to take you to get matcha from the new place that opened down the block. the long afternoons you kept him trapped in a library to actually study. the days he spent in your company, the nights he spent holding you in his arms, exploring parts of you that he knew no one had yet before. the mornings that followed as he used ice cubes to soothe the marks he left on you, the little giggles you left as you found yourself counting each one in the mirror, watching in your reflection as he kissed each one.

“did it feel real to you?”

your question snapped atsumu out of his thoughts.

“of course it did,” he answers almost instantly. “nothing in my life has never felt more real.”

“for so long i never thought you truly cared like that,” you sigh.

“what do you mean?” he questions.

“it felt like i was just another fling of yours,” you explain. “that you’d toss me to the side once you got bored of me. and some stupid part of me thought that maybe that wasn’t the case. that for some reason i managed to strike you differently than any other person you had gone out with.” your gaze moves to the ground. “i guess i was wrong.”

“i wasn’t thinking,” he mutters. “you were right. no one’s ever made me feel as much joy as you. and i’m so sorry things turned out like this.” he runs a hand through his hair. “one dumb mistake, and i feel like i’m losing the one person i feel like i truly love.”

is it possible to find love for something you hate?

he meets your eyes, and he swears he sees them soften. “you love me?”

“i do,” he tells you. “i do love you, and i’m sorry i didn’t say so sooner. i’m so sorry that i never asked you to be mine. i should’ve asked you so so long ago instead of leaving you here like this.” atsumu stretches out his hands. you look down at his hands before looking to him, and he feels like he’s almost begging you to take them.

relief washes over him when you do.

“if you want to forget about me and move on with your life, you are more than welcome to do so,” he tells you. “i mean i deserve it, what i did was so wrong.”

“it was,” you mumble under your breath.

and atsumu doesn’t even have the strength to fight you. he just wants nothing more than to fight for you.

“but, if you can forgive me,” he starts, “then i would love nothing more than for you to be mine. i promise to spend the rest of my days making up for this. whether it’s in matchas or nights together, or study sessions against my will, or convenience store runs, or osamu’s food.” the last portion makes you laugh, and atsumu would give anything to hear it again. “please, if you can find it in you to do so, please give me a chance to treat you right and be mine.”

he lets out a breath, heart thrumming in his chest before meeting your gaze. “what do you say?”

and he feels his heart sigh as you nod.

“okay.”

i am a true situationship survivor who, for some reason, loves writing about them...lowkey telling...

anyway thank you for reading!! <3

[valeisaslut]

Hey val! just wanted to say collide is genuinely incredible. genuinely one of the best pieces of writing i’ve ever read, not exaggerating. I’ve been seeing you absolutely burning ellie to shreds and it made me wonder, what’s popstar!reader’s backstory? read she came from the voice but is there more to her pre-ellie life? she seems so layered and complex on her own, and i’d love to know how she got to where she is now. any lore you can share??

omg first of all—thank you so much for this, seriously. it means the world that you’re even asking about reader’s backstory. i’ve spent just as much time building her as i did ellie, and i love that she’s getting some of the spotlight too!

popstar!reader’s backstory is a little quieter than ellie’s, but it’s just as important.

she was just a normal girl, honestly. small town, two parents, one younger sibling. soft-spoken, always lost in her own little world—writing lyrics on her forearm in pen and humming melodies while unloading the dishwasher.

her parents were sweet but practical, the kind of people who clapped at school recitals and told her to make sure her dreams had health insurance. supportive in that detached, surface-level, “good for you, honey” way.

she taught herself how to sing, how to play guitar, and later piano—mostly in secret. lessons felt like too much of an ask. her family wasn’t struggling, but money was always discussed with that careful tone, like even wanting something made you selfish. so she figured it out alone. saved up for her first guitar by babysitting, bought a secondhand keyboard off Facebook Marketplace, and sang quietly into her pillow late at night so no one would hear.

she taught herself how to produce on GarageBand when she was fourteen, recording rough demos on an old laptop that overheated if she used too many vocal layers.

she'd mimic runs from old YouTube covers, learn chords from blurry tutorial videos, and practice until her fingers went numb. there were nights her voice would crack and she'd cry out of frustration, but she always came back to it. because no matter how hard it was—music made her feel like someone.

she wasn’t popular. not disliked, just… overlooked. you’d find her sitting in the back of the bus, hoodie up, scribbling verses in the margins of her homework. she barely even spoke in class, but when she sang? people shut up and listened. she just didn’t let them very often. the want was always there, but the fear was just as loud.

and then came 10th grade. her first real heartbreak. a girl from her English class—older, confident, the kind of girl who knew the effect she had on people. reader fell hard. it was messy, unrequited, and when the girl said “i’m not into girls like that” with a casual shrug? it destroyed her. she wrote ten songs that month. none of them were happy. she posted one of them on SoundCloud under a fake name. it got 43 listens. she made it her phone wallpaper.

no one thought she’d actually do anything with music. her teachers told her to “focus more on the sciences,” and her guidance counselor literally said, “sweetheart, music is a lovely hobby, but not a career.”

no one ever really believed she’d make it.

and honestly? most of the time, neither did she.

but something clicked her senior year. she was tired of being scared. tired of hiding. so she said fuck it—and auditioned for The Voice with one of her own songs without even asking her mom about it.

the rest happened fast. all four judges turned. her clip exploded online—TikTok, Twitter, YouTube, everywhere. people were calling her “the girl with the pain in her voice”. and yeah, she won. of course she did. got signed to a label before she even had time to process it.

her debut album was a glittery, razor-sharp pop masterpiece. dramatic, vulnerable, unapologetically girly. every song sounded like crying in the back of a club bathroom and screaming in your car on the way home. girls memorized the lyrics. gays dissected the bridges. critics tried to play it cool but couldn’t help calling it a cultural reset.

but through all the fame, reader stayed pretty much the same. she never really leaned into the chaos of it all. she wasn’t into parties. barely drank. never touched drugs. she didn’t care about being seen—she cared about being good. her team would throw her into red carpets and she’d sneak out early to finish demos in her penthouse. at one event, she literally left mid-party to go sit in the parking lot and hum a harmonie she couldn't get out of her head into her voice notes.

she barely dated. not because she didn’t want to—but because she didn’t have time. she never let herself have time. the industry was demanding, to say the least. she had something to prove. to everyone who doubted her. to herself.

she built herself from the ground up. no shortcuts, no handouts, no famous parents or flashy connections. just talent. obsession. the belief that maybe—maybe—her voice mattered. and a little bit of spite.

she gave everything to her career. and she became a star.

and then came ellie. and for the first time… she stopped thinking about the next song. because suddenly, someone made her want to stay in the moment. and god, that scared her.

[coldfanbou]

Manor: Shared Fun

New Manor part with a little fun with Moonbyul and Nayeon. Maybe Nayeon is going to take up Moonbyul in the future.

Length 2.3K

Mreader X Moonbyul X Nayeon

You open the door to your new home. It’s a good-sized apartment named after Moonbyul; something meant to hide you. Moonbyul pushes past you, walking into the new apartment, “Oh wow, this is pretty nice. I should’ve asked you to get me a place like this.” The detective looks around the apartment building, scanning the new furniture. “You’ve got pretty good taste,” she says, sitting herself down on the sofa. “When you handed me that list, I had no clue what I was looking at, but I see if I ever need to get someone to redecorate my place, I can call you. There should be some beer in the fridge.” 

“Yeah, If you need it, I can always help. It’s the least I can do,” you reply, heading to the kitchen and returning with a few beers. You hand one to Moonbyul, who quickly cracks it open, and you offer the other to Nayeon. She hesitantly accepts it, opening it and taking a sip before recoiling. 

Moonbyul points and laughs at Nayeon, “Haha! You can’t drink!”

“I can, too!” Nayeon yells back, taking a long drink from the can. She keeps the alcohol in her mouth, struggling to swallow. She manages to but grimaces. 

Moonbyul continues laughing, “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.” She sips her drink, letting out a long breath as she relaxes. “Hey, you don’t mind if I stay here for the night, do you? I kind of just want to drink and relax.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay the night.” The three of you sit in the living room drinking until you grow tired. From there, you head to your bedroom and Nayeon to hers. You hand Moonbyul a couple of blankets for her to use as she sleeps on the couch. 

You lay awake in bed, though, unable to go to sleep. Leaving home was something you had imagined would occur because of different circumstances. You sigh and take a deep breath as you stare at the ceiling. You’re tired and want to rest, but something gnaws at you. You wonder where exactly things went wrong. Your ex cheating was the big explosion, but where had you gone wrong? 

A knock on your door breaks your train of thought. You get out of bed and walk to the door, opening it. It’s Nayeon. Her nightgown stretches to the floor; she’s clutching part of it in her hands. “Hey, I can’t sleep. Do you mind if I slept with you? You know…we’re both going through the same thing I thought-”

“I get it, Nayeon. Come in.” You walk back to bed and climb in; Nayeon follows. She faces you, staring at you silently for a few minutes before huffing. “So we’re on our own now.”

“Yeah, we are. What are we going to do?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, I guess so. There’s something else too. I-I want to date…you.” Nayeon’s voice goes to a whisper at the end of her sentence, growing shy as you linger on a response. “Say something.”

“I appreciate that, Nayeon, the thought that is. I don’t know if I’m ready to date yet. This isn’t a no; it’s just…I don’t know. We have so much to do now that we’re alone. I want you around, though; I just don’t know if I’m ready. And don’t think this is about sex; it’s not. I’m just- we’re going through a lot.”

Nayeon sighs but smiles at you. “I know.” She cups your cheeks. “I just think being in a relationship with you puts my mind at ease, you know? Like, I have someone to really rely on. I’ll stay with you; let’s just not put a label on ourselves then. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good.” You pull Nayeon in, holding her against you. She digs her head into your chest, smiling as you both become drowsy and fall asleep. You hold Nayeon as you continue to chat, your words slowly becoming mumbles as you find comfort in Nayeon.

The following morning, you wake up with Nayeon in your arms, facing away from you but keeping her body next to yours. She used your arm as a pillow, drooling on it as she slept. You sneak away, getting out of bed and leaving the room. 

In the living room, you find Moonbyul lying face down on the floor. Her blanket barely covered her nude form. It covered her top half but left her ass wholly uncovered. You drag the blanket over her, covering her body before heading to the kitchen. You check through the fridge, but you don’t see any food. “What are you looking for?” You look over your shoulder and see Moonbyul standing behind you, still naked. She rubs her eyes and repeats her question.

Your eyes are glued to Moonbyul’s body, taking in every curve. “I, uh,” you shake your head and start again, “I was looking for food, but I guess I need to go grocery shopping.” 

“Yeah, you’ll need to do that handsome.” Moonbyul pats your chest and pokes her head, seeing an empty fridge except for some beers. 

“Ya! What are you two doing?” You look over and see Nayeon standing at the kitchen entrance. “Moonbyul! Why are you naked?”

Moonbyul looks down, noting that she was naked. “Is there a problem with that? I like sleeping like this.” A smile creeps onto Moonbyul’s face, “Ah, are you jealous?” Moonbyul reaches into your shorts, grabs your cock, and strokes it slowly. “He’s already hard. I guess he liked what he saw.” Moonbyul says, teasing Nayeon. 

“He’s like that because of me! I was right next to him all night.” Nayeon says as she grabs the bottom of her gown and lifts it over her head. Both women were naked now, and seeing their bodies got you hard. Nayeon walks over to you and pulls down your shorts before grabbing your cock. “You’re hard because of me, right?” You’re silent, only able to groan the women’s names as they stroke your cock.

“I’m sure it’s because of me.” Moonbyul glances at you and kisses your neck. “I’m the better fuck, right?” The older woman kneels before you, releasing your cock and moving Nayeon’s hand aside. Nayeon watches with surprise as Moonbyul plants her lips on your cock, allowing the tip inside her mouth. You moan Moonbyul’s name as you feel her tongue slowly swirl around you. After watching Moonbyul begin to suck your cock, Nayeon kneels too. She’s anxious about losing you and willing to match Moonbyul’s actions. Moonbyul meets Nayeon’s gaze and smiles. She moves back, moving her lips alongside your shaft and allowing Nayeon to work the other side. The younger woman does so; Nayeon presses her soft lips against the side of your cock and runs it along your shaft. You moan, struggling to contain yourself because of the two women. You place your hands on their heads, guiding them along your cock. Moonbyul fights you, staying at the tip of your cock and moving her tongue up and down the tip. Nayeon follows suit. Precum leaks from your cock, and the women lap it up, almost fighting for it.

They can feel your cock begin to throb; Moonbyul pulls away and stands up. Nayeon pauses as the older woman bends over the kitchen table and spreads her cheeks for you. Moonbyul teasingly sways her hips, telling you to fuck her using only body language. Getting the hint, Nayeon does the same, bending over next to Moonbyul. With both women offering you their bodies, you struggle to make a decision. You know that you’ll be living with Nayeon for some time, and it would be better to maintain a good relationship with her. As much as you want to fuck Moonbyul first, you get behind Nayeon and press your cock against her entrance, driving your cock into her slowly. As Nayeon moans, Moonbyul pouts. The older woman chuckles before standing up and running her finger along your chest.

“I guess I’ll wait for my turn.” She says before kissing you. You moan into the kiss. The pleasure you got from thrusting into Nayeon’s cunt was great. You grip the younger woman’s waist, holding her still as you speed up. Moonbyul watches Nayeon’s body quiver, smirking as she listens to the younger woman’s moans. Moonbyul breaks the kiss and squats down, getting under Nayeon. She drags her tongue along her slit as you thrust into Nayeon, flicking her clit. Nayeon feels the older woman’s tongue and cries out. She places all her weight on the table, her legs unable to hold her up as Moonbyul continues to pleasure her, using her skilled tongue to repeatedly flick Nayeon’s clit. “You taste so good, Nayeon. I might get addicted.” Moonbyul remarks in a low, sultry tone.

You felt Moonbyul’s tongue, too, and while it gave you some pleasure, it was nowhere near what Nayeon was feeling. The younger woman was tightening around your cock, her walls clamping down as she was rushing toward her climax. Nayeon began to whimper, the tightness in her core becoming tighter, her body tensing up until she exploded. Nayeon shuddered as she squirted her sweet nectar onto Moonbyul’s tongue. She felt ashamed for cumming so quickly, even though two people were working her over. On the other hand, the older woman greedily drank it all, only missing out on a few drops as they ran down her cheeks. As Nayeon’s orgasm ended, Moonbyul ran her fingers along Nayeon's slit, making the younger woman tense up.

“You came, I guess it’s my turn now.” She teased, rising from under the younger woman and placing herself on the table. You pull out, on the verge of cumming. Moonbyul spreads her cheeks for you again, “I want that cock somewhere else this time, handsome. This tight ass needs to be stretched. Get me ready, will you?” You glance at Moonbyul’s puckered asshole and then move your eyes over to Nayeon’s wet cunt. Pushing your fingers into Nayeon, you coated them in her juices before moving your fingers over to Moonbyul and pushing them in. The older woman groans, a giant smile on her face as she feels you play with her ass. “That’s it, get it nice and wet.”

You repeat the process a few more times before becoming satisfied. Grabbing your cock you press it against her asshole and push in. You and Moonbyul groan as you stretch her asshole, pushing apart the brown hole as it takes the tip of your cock inside. “God, you’re big,” Moonbyul grunts while you continue to push yourself inside. The tightness of her asshole was something else entirely. You could hardly control yourself. You gripped Moonbyul’s waist and thrust the rest of your length inside, cumming inside her. Moonbyul gasped, her eyes rolling back as she felt your warm cum pour into her. “F-fuck,” she groans, her toes curling as she revels in the feeling of being filled. Your cum continues to pour into Moonbyul; when you’re finally done, you begin thrusting. Moonbyul bites her lip, the pleasure flowing through her body as she feels your cock stir the cum inside her. 

You were nearing another climax quickly, having become more sensitive after your orgasm. Still, you were determined to make Moonbyul cum, so you continued thrusting deep into her ass. You kept one hand on Moonbyul’s waist and moved the other to her face, hooking her mouth with your fingers and pulling her back. Her tongue wagged in the air as you continued thrusting. Recovering slowly from her intense climax, Nayeon looks at the look of utter bliss on the older woman’s face and recognizes that she’s something else entirely. She watches in awe as your continued thrusts bring Moonbyul to orgasm. Her ass squeezes your cock, and you're about to cum. Nayeon notices the look on your face and kneels, pushing on your thigh to get you to pull out of Moonbyul. Her body reacted before her mind had time to register what she was doing. Nayeon drags the older woman down to the floor and presses her face against Moonbyul’s, giving you a large canvas. You cum at that moment, painting their faces. Nayeon opens her mouth, some drops of cum landing on her tongue while Moonbyul is fully coated with not a single drop making it into her mouth.

You take a step back and look at the women, your cum staining their pretty faces. The women look at each other, with Moonbyul chuckling. The older woman places her hand under Nayeon’s chin and drags her tongue across the younger woman’s cheek. “Not bad, Nayeon. I think I’d enjoy another session with you, just us, though. I want to see what your body can do.” Nayeon felt the heat rise to her face; she was stunned at the older woman’s words. “What? Did you think I was interested in your friend over there? Don’t get me wrong, I like a good cock, and he has one, but I like women a little more.” Moonbyul licks Nayeon’s other cheek, this time making the process slower. “You don’t have to answer now, but I’ll leave you my number if you ever want to have a little fun. I can even teach you some things.” 

Moonbyul grabs the edge of the table, using it to stand up. “Well, that was a great way to start the day.” She says while wiping the cum from her face. “Let’s take a shower before we get you two used to your new lives.” Moonbyul takes Nayeon’s arm, helping her to her feet before leading the two of you to the bathroom. 

Today was the first day of the rest of your lives.

[finnbbl]

Hey, I saw your requests are open. Would you write something for 3Racha where something sad happens and the reader turns non-verbal to try and cope with it?

It's just a problem that I always have and I would like to know how you think the boys would react :)

3Racha when you’re nonverbal

3Racha Written

Prompt: Being friends with the main producers of a music group had its perks. But when you’re asked to accompany them a certain gathering, you hesitate when you figure out who will be there.

Genre: Angst/Comfort

Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Implications of trauma, alcohol and dr*g mention, I don’t think there’s any swearing, reader goes nonverbal.

A/N: I wanted to first start off by saying I apologize it took me a bit to get out. I’ve been in my own slump and I’ve found it super hard to find motivation for anything, especially writing and posting.

I wasn’t sure if you wanted a specific incident to happen where the reader goes non verbal, so I hope this is okay. I also wasn’t sure if you wanted it romantic or not, so I just kind of wrote what felt right in the moment. I tried to leave the situation vague so it could match with anyone’s experiences. I personally don’t like it too much (I honestly hate my writing so it could just be that LOL) so I can make a separate post with a text version, of course it would be a little bit different than this. Please let me know your thoughts 🙏

Requests - OPEN

Masterlist

Please read disclaimer in masterlist

Parties were the absolute worst. If you were forced to choose a least favorite thing on the planet, parties would be it. They’re loud and crowded; Worst of all, he’s always there.

3Racha had been nominated for an award. They had been invited to a big award show, a one where afterparties usually follow. You were incredibly proud of them, knowing just how hard they worked. They meant the absolute world to you, and to see them put their best foot forward and exceed tipped you over the moon. Previously, you’d turn them down when they’d ask you to attend with them, and you had a very good reason. Firstly, parties just weren’t your thing. You never fit in with everyone else growing up. Secondly, you knew that he was going to be there. You didn’t know what to call him. Putting a label on things had never felt right to you before. If someone were to ask him, he’d tell them you were together. But if someone were to ask you, you’d say it was complicated and you were content with how things were. You did that with everyone that seemed to be more than friends with you, commitment was a scary thing. But you did know that he was someone you never wanted to be around ever again.

You remember the way he’d always ask you to accompany him to one. He was the partier in the “relationship.” However, you’d always preferred to stay in. Nice and cozy in your blankets. One night, you decided to try and get out of your comfort zone. You wore something different, and put effort into your appearance. The moment he let his hand “accidentally” linger over your ass was the first sign of a mistake. The night only went downhill from there. Next thing you knew you were drugged and taken advantage of. It took you months to recover, months to find the will to get out of bed. Only Chan out of the three knew of this incident, but only very very vaguely. He only found out because he was the one nursing you back to your normal self again. You avoided giving him details, he doesn’t know the person, time, nor the place. You wanted to stick to using being tired as an excuse to politely turn them down. There was no way you could let them find out that you were just too weak to attend said gathering, especially because they don’t know what happened.

You listened to the boys explain how excited they were for this one. How this was such a big award, and how it was going to be so much different. The excitement that laced their voices made it hard for you to deny the question you knew was coming. “Do you think you could go with us this time?” They knew the answer every time they asked this question. A hesitant no, almost as if you were thinking about it. In reality, your mind was fighting off bad memories. It was hard not to think of it when even the topic was brought up, there’s no way you could bring yourself to revisit the place it happened. He was always going to be there, just like he was at every one while you knew him. Again, parties were his thing. So you were confident no matter which one you attended, he would be there. You were scared, to say the least. Scared of seeing him, scared of being pushed back into that dark room, scared of reliving what had made you feel so lifeless.

However, Han’s unintentional puppy eyes drew you closer and closer to the edge. How you wanted to see them happy. You weren’t sure if it was only platonic or if there was some hint of romantic feelings for them there, but you knew you loved them so much. Although the three knew the usual answer, they still proceeded to ask. They felt as they should always invite you, even if they know what your answer would be. However, this time you surprised them. With a quick purse of your lips, the words fell from your mouth. “Fine, but only this once.” The way their faces lit up when you agreed to go to with them brought a smile to your face. Though it quickly dissipated as your brain grabbed back at those awful memories. The guys were too lost in excitement to notice, but you’d prefer it that way. Everyone else had their own problems, so you hated adding your own on top of them.

The last few nights leading up to the award ceremony were filled with anxiety. Sleepovers with Chan were a mutually agreed way to get both of your minds off of stress. However your anxiety still managed to claw its way through what was supposed to be a comforting barrier with him. Chan was next to you, fast asleep which was something that was rare for him. Meanwhile, you silently cried next to him. Hours passed and you were still unable to fall asleep, too busy fighting off the horrible memories. Horrible memories of a time in your life that left you numb. You couldn’t shake it, knowing that he was going to be there. He was a popular artist, and you’d already checked the lineup for the event. His name was there, and now you were petrified. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell them you changed your mind. They were so excited, so you dealt with it.

The night of the party arrived. You’d isolated yourself for the day, hoping to prepare yourself enough for what was about to come. Hours passed and next thing you knew you were sat between Chan and Changbin on a fancy couch. Despite it being a fancy event, Han sat on the back of the couch with his feet on either side of you, his hands slowly running through your hair. It was a common thing for you to do with the three, often being very touchy with each other. It was to the point where you questioned if you were more than friends. While you didn’t kiss, or do anything beyond that, you were very hands on. Cuddling, hugging, playing with each others hair or outfits, you name it. However, you couldn’t decipher whether it was platonic or if there was a hint of romance in there.

Suddenly, an all too familiar voice snapped you out of the peaceful thoughts that managed to distract you for.. at least a little while. Soon enough, your worst fear of the night happened. He placed himself on the couch right across from you guys. The first 20 minutes or so, he had the subtlety evil smirk on his face.

However, you knew it would dissipate sooner or later. Based on your experience with him, he was an extremely jealous person. And given, how important skin-ship was to you and the three boys, it was only a matter of time. It happened when Han noticed you were quieter all of the sudden. His fingers came to a slow stop in your hair to travel down to your shoulder. His head leaning down to your ear to whisper something.

“Are you alright, jagiya?”

It was quiet, quiet enough where only those within a 3 inch radius could hear. So you wonder why you saw that man who you feared, drop his smirk to a frown. Maybe he read Han’s lips and noticed the word ‘jagiya’ ? Either way, you ignored it, and with a nod and a small smile which was noticeably forced, you brushed off Han’s worries insisting you were just tired. Changbin took notice of his member’s concern, and leaned in close to reassure you that the event would be over soon. You gave him the same smile and quietly thanked him.

Thats when he suddenly started staring daggers at you from across the room, his hand clenching onto the almost empty soju bottle. He was drunk, for sure. That had to have been the scariest part. It only added more fuel to the fire, you were silenced. Except nothing was physically stopping you from speaking. Your head dropped down, staring at your nails that now started to dig into the palms of your and in an attempt to quiet the voices in your mind. It was a bad habit you picked up when you got anxious. Recently, it’d been worse so you currently had crescent shaped markings left behind on the center of your hand. Han noticed the tension in your body, and leaned down to express his concern once again.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re very tense.”

No response. As much as you wanted to reassure him that everything was okay, you couldn’t. It felt as if your throat was closing up, you couldn’t speak or move. You were anxious, overstimulated and all you wanted to do was jump out of the window. Anything to escape.

Your eyes were now staring daggers into the floor, and your body was completely still. Did you even hear him? He wondered at your lack of response, however it didn’t take long for him to pick up on it. But before he could say anything else, Chan’s hand gently but swiftly grabbed yours. Holding your hands in such a way that your nails couldn’t fight their way through your skin again. Chan was a very observant person, so it didn’t take him very long to notice the marks on your hands. That’s when Han recognized what was going on, Changbin following in their suit not but a few moments later. Once again, Han leaned down to say something. He was well aware that you were nonverbal right now, but he said it anyways hoping you could at least muster the energy to tell him you wanted to leave. You suddenly felt a hand on either shoulder, which were now rubbing soothingly into your tense muscles. “Do you want to leave? Chan still has to say his goodbyes to everyone, but I can take you outside.” This sentence was whispered into your ear, and the word ‘leave’ sparked your attention. You nodded almost too eagerly.

With that, Han motioned for you to stand up, saying something to you excuse yourselves. Chan let your hands slip out of his, looking over at his band mate and Changbin to silently communicate everyone would be leaving soon. You were unsure of what he said, now focused on not making eye contact with a certain someone right across from you. The closer to you that Han got, the more anger you could feel emitting off of the man in front. That only left you more anxious. Suddenly, Han put his arm around your waist gently to guide you out. The anxiety started to die down as you stepped out of the building, but the tears you were fighting didn’t. “You okay?” Han softly questioned as your eyes looked up to meet his. It took him not but a brief moment to notice your glossy eyes. He immediately pulled you in for a hug, which caused you to break down. Still unable to speak, you only mumbled out incoherent words that the male tried so hard to pick up on. Fortunately for him, he was able to make out a few words which told him everything he needed to know.

You felt unsafe is what it was. Although he wasn’t sure why, it was a step. Han would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t sense anger and tension in the room. The reason was what he couldn’t figure out. His head rested on yours, gently rocking you back and forth hoping to calm you down. Suddenly the door opened, but you remained still. As Chan and Changbin walked over, your breathing began to slow down. “Sorry n/n, I did my best to get us out as soon as possible. They don’t know when to shut up.” Chan apologized and rubbed his hand up and down your back. “Come on, we’ll talk later. Let’s get her out of here.”

Once you all arrived home, everyone went to their dorms. Except you stayed back at Chan and Jeongin’s. Although the younger was in the middle of a brand deal, which left you and the latter alone in the dorm. The trio agreed it would be better if you stayed with one of them for the night, so they decided on the leader’s as it would be the calmest. Your body lay next to him on his comfortable mattress, the lights set to a soft and comforting purple color with the tv playing a movie on the lowest volume. The male laying next to you, with his hand running up and down your back. Your eyes followed the movements of the character on the screen, but your brain wasn’t absorbing any of the plot. It was obvious this was a difficult night for you, but Chan just had to know.

“Feel free to not answer, I know you’re still not in a talking mood..” He led on, and your head raised to make eye contact with him. “Was that the guy… from you know.”

You did know, you knew exactly what he was talking about. Your facial features remained still, looking back and forth between both of his eyes as you mustered up the energy to get some form of response out. With that, you only nodded before turning back to the movie. Chan could swear he felt his heart break and everything suddenly clicked in his mind. If he had known it would only cause you anxiety, then he wouldn’t have pestered you to go for so long. “I am sooo sorry y/n.” His other arm found its way around you as he rested his head on yours. “We wouldn’t have pressed so hard if we knew what was going on.”

Although you didn’t respond, your hand found its way to his and gave him a light squeeze to reassure him that it was okay. “I know I don’t know the whole story but you can always talk to me about how you’re feeling, alright?” A small smile formed on your lips and your head nodded against his, nuzzling further. He let out a light and squeaky giggle as he ran his fingers over your knuckle gently. It was in this moment that you realized it was all going to be okay.

[posts-from-pluto]

Humans are weird - life expectancy

Quinn always found the idea of figuring out how they would spend their time if they only had two-hundred years to live to be an interesting hypothetical. There were animals out there who lived such short lifespans after all, though none of the ones they had encountered had the mental capacity to develop long-term goals, but if they could what would they choose to do? It was one of their favorite questions to ask to get to know someone, what they prioritize.

Or at least it was until they met Edith, a researcher part of a species that had just barely begun their existence as space-faring creatures, more importantly: a species that struggled to even make it to a hundred, let alone two-hundred years old.

...The end of her first day was rather awkward, I mean how could they have possibly known that that species would just so happen to be the first ones with such a short lifespan that had managed to make it into space.

Lords it was awful, remembering it still makes them wish they had the same memory issues as the Soweps

----

After being shown around the Cultural-Exchange Station, (C.S. for short), Edith decided to go join Quinn in the Lounge. A good, casual chat to get to know one of the people she would be spending at least the next few years with seemed like a good way to spend her first day aboard. What could possibly go wrong? It wasn't like there was much else she could do, unfortunately. Quinn had made it quite clear that she didn't have to couldn't start work until the next week, something about giving her time to 'get settled before entrusting her with a position on the team'.

Under normal circumstances, that would've been great... but now? After she just spent a week trapped alone on a ship without the ability to do anything productive? She'd be damned if she was going to spend another minute of her day just sitting around alone in an unfamiliar bedroom with weird furniture. Fixing her room could wait until tomorrow. She just had to go do something, anything that wasn't using her sitting by herself in that room. She walked over to one of the terminals to pull up the way to the lounge, or at least what she assumed was the lounge given the fact that nothing was labelled, before heading off to find Quinn. Hoping that her horrible sense of direction wouldn't embarrass her on her very first day.

She made off towards the general direction of the area on the map, passing by numerous rooms with widely different appearances from one that seemed oddly... cave-like? to another that would fit in more in an aquarium than it does a space station, or atleast what you'd expect in a human one anyways. Turning the corner into the maze of long corridors, Edith continued straight, which luckily, was in fact the way to the main lounge area.

Edith: "Hi Quinn!" She shouted from halfway across the room as she walked towards the couch they were sitting on.

Quinn: Hey, did you need something?

*Carefully choosing her spot to not make them uncomfortable, Edith sat on the other side of the couch*

Edith: Nope, I just wanted to walk around a bit. Get to know everyone better and stretch my legs a bit more, you know?

Quinn: Oh okay that's cool.... How's setting up your room going?

Edith: I haven't started yet. I'm still thinking about where I'm going to put everything.

Quinn: Not at all because you're procrastinating???

Edith: *GASP* How could you accuse me of such a thing? I would never~~~

Quinn:... That reminds me I never got around to asking,

How would you spend your life if you only had 200 years to live?

Edith: where did that come from?

Quinn: We were talking about procrasination and that got me thinking about time which made me remember I didn't ask you about how'd you'd spend 200 years. It's just something I ask everyone.

Quinn:...sooo I know it 's a really short amount of time but how would you spend it?

Edith: short???

Quinn: Yeah??? Am I missing something here?

Edith: .... Humans generally only live 80ish years naturally. Like at most some people make it into their hundreds but that's extremely rare

Quinn: ....oh

Edith: .... yeaaah

Quinn: I just remembered I actually have to go work on some very long paperwork- *They rush to get up, nearly tripping over their own legs* -I'll see you later! *They continued as they started speed walking away, the look on their face told her that they'd probably be running if it wouldn't make things more awkward*

Edith could barely stop herself from bursting out laughing at the scene... She'd have to tease them about that later....

Hmmm.....Good ways to answer how'd she'd spend 200 years???

....Annoying them?

Well She'd have plently of time to think about it while she unpacked.

____

Side note: This was going to be an angsty conversation between the two of them but the second I started writing the first bit the idea of it being one of the first questions Quinn asked Edith popped into my head and it just took on it's own life so I hope you enjoyed this instead :)

[bigassmoth]

continuation of this here

It's been a week and a half and Leo is already complaining again.

Sho half-listened to Leo as he polished Bonnie in the garage. Just five minutes ago, although it felt much longer, Leo had flopped onto the couch and launched into a rant about his comment feed.

"It's been foreeevvveerrr and they are STILL calling that NPC a gold digger- as if they have the brains to dig! Our ~Honorable Senpai~ doesn't even know about designer labels- one time they complimented my jacket only because-" Leo changed his voice to mock the honor student, "-it looks very nice with your hair."

Sho remembers that incident, Leo met your casual compliment with aggression when he assumed that you recognized the brand and was vying for scraps. Your response was confused and then to sheepishly admit you hadn't realized it was a luxury brand and just liked the colors. Leo spent a good 10 seconds being too flabbergasted to speak and then later called Romeo to gossip about how much of a country bumpkin you are.

"Uh huh." Sho gave a disengaged comment while Leo paused in his ranting.

"Ugh, that gorilla is saying they are coming back from doing recon. I can't believe I keep getting left here- especially when senpai knows how bad Mido fumbles every interview."

"Didn't they leave 3 hours ago? I bet Sasquatch got them lost" Sho joins in on the discussion with passion this time, sharing a smirk with Leo as they imagine the likely scenario that Mido confidently leads you to dead-end after dead-end.

Leo sends off a text and a few seconds later Sho's phone vibrates in his pocket. He puts down his shop cloth to pull it out and after reading the text he frowns at Leo. A text from the prefect-

"You asked them to stop at Starbucks and didn't tell me? What if I wanted something you asshole?"

"Ehh that's not my fault, I figured if your precious bff really cared about you that much then they would reach out. And lo and behold..." Leo looked at Sho with a faint glimmer of envy in his eyes before directing his attention back to his phone. He scoffs. "Seriously, what's the point of posting that NPC if the 150 thousand followers I gain are all annoying as fuck?

"Your account really grew that much just from pretending you have a toxic relationship?"

"Duh. Everyone loves watching someone elses relationship go up in flames."

"You have issues, dude." Sho sighs and types you a reply with his order.

--

"We're back." Alan announced himself as usual, walking past the two ghouls while carrying a cardboard box presumably full of files for them to comb through for the next day. You were a quick step behind him, holding a drink tray and several paper bags.

"Hey." Sho greeted you while Leo only grunted in acknowledgement. You handed Sho his drink and bag- which he opened to reveal a chocolate muffin he promptly split with Bonnie. You set the remaining treats onto a nearby toolbox and turned around.

"Could you unzip this real quick?" You tilt your head forward so Sho can access the covert zipper at the top of your neck. With a face full of muffin, Sho hums and deftly yanks down the tab so you can free yourself of the cop costume.

Leo watches the casual exchange with crossed arms.

"Can you hurry up and give me my stuff already?" His voice is flat with irritation. You step out of the second-skin as it dissipates and hand Leo his drink and a paper bag.

"Mido senpai." You call out simply and, as Leo would make fun of him for later, Alan appeared like a dog hearing his name.

"Hm?"

"Turn around, please." He follows your instructions without question and you quickly reach up and unzip him as well. Job complete, you grab your drink and treat and sit on the couch near the center.

"Thanks." Once upon a time Leo and Sho would have assumed that Alan was just adept at hiding his embarrassment but time has proven that such deference to you made no blemish on his ego. You could ask him to play pattycake and he would.

Alan sat down next to you, the sink of the couch almost pushing you into his lap as you instinctively scooch further into the center.

"Oi, idiot." Leo claims your attention as soon as he is able, "This isn't starbucks. And this isn't a whipped rose latte either." He thrust the cup into your face, making you recoil into Alan.

"Starbucks tastes awful." You offer a half-explanation as Leo lowers the cup and instead presses his face into yours.

"How the fuck am I supposed to post this boring shit on instagram, huh?" He was razing you, Alan stopped his delicate sips on his black iced coffee to say something but you beat him to the punch.

"Then don't post it." You sigh and put a hand on Leo's head, pushing him away from you. Without him practically breathing down your neck, you are able to unstick yourself from Alan and get properly comfortable on the couch.

"You don't really get this whole influencer thing, do you?" Leo grumbles and slumps into the arm of the couch, stretching his legs onto your lap. You adjust easily, lifting your paper beg to rest it on his knees so your precious baked good didn't get squished.

"They didn't have any rose latte's, so I go you a chai. I figured you would like it beca-"

"Chai? Chai tea? Isn't that just black tea and milk?" Leo kicks his heel on Alan's leg.

"Actually 'chai' means tea." Sho chimed in 'helpfully', bemused by the display in front of him. Leo was a professional at riling people up, capable of getting the most extreme reactions with just a few words. But Alan was an immovable rock, so caught up in his own head and goals that everything in his periphery seemed worthless to pay attention to. You didn't have Alan's temperament but have gained an elusiveness that made you float above Leo's tactics. It was interesting for Sho, watching Leo vie for your attention and Alan's acknowledgment.

"I don't give a fuck." Leo looked at Sho as if he betrayed him.

"I think you will like it." You begin again, "I asked them to make it extra spicy." Leo had seen the 'xtra spic' written in sharpie on the cup.

"Ugh, whatever. This cookie better be good."

"It's peanut butter." Alan interjected now, without looking up from the file in his hand.

"I- What!?" Leo gaped at you as you sipped your drink. You shrugged.

"I was in charge of drinks, Mido senpai picked up the snacks."

"You need the protein."

At Alan's (unwanted) comment Sho erupted in laughter. Leo scoffed and fully laid back on the arm rest.

"This is so stupid." He muttered and without thinking, took a deep drink from his cup. The mixture warmed his bones, pleasantly sweet and spicy.

The conservation turned to details about the case as you and Alan relayed what you had learned on your excursion. Leo listened while tapping blankly on his phone notifications, not even taking in the information on the screen while he thought about how one would go about catching an anomaly. It was reflexive, that he took a selfie as he sipped his drink and posted it with the generic hashtags: #latte#girlfriend#bestgfever#couplegoals.

Everyone returned to their rooms after making a plan for tomorrow and sending you off to your decrepit dorm. It was only in the bath that Leo realized what he had posted would become an issue- because someone had made a video about it.

"-As we all know, Leo only likes light floral drinks. Which we love about him- but apparently his girlfriend bought him this drink which is an EXTRA SPICY CHAI. She doesn't even know his taste preferences-"

The comments were predictable: This is the same one boring girlfriend that is using him for money.

Leo rolled his eyes so hard he swore they got stuck in the back of his head for a second and shut his phone off before throwing it onto his pile of clothes on the floor.

"Seriously, that NPC brings in way more trouble then they are worth."

[bloggingboutburgers]

Hey, allo anon with an ace partner here. I wanted to say thank you so much for the well wishes! I figured I would send this in here again, so anyone else who is curious about what this experience looks like from the other side can see it.

My girlfriend came out to me a little over 2 years into our relationship. At the time it surprised me a lot, because she'd never given me any signs that she wasn't enjoying what we were doing. After we talked more I understood that she wasn't repulsed by sex and she didn't hate it, but she didn't really love it either and wanted to stop doing it for a while (so a sex-neutral ace).

Honestly, at the time, I did get anxious about it. Not just because of social conventions, but because I had viewed sex as an important bonding part of our relationship. I don't do well with change, and I was super worried about how a lack of sex would change our dynamic. I also had some insecurities about my own body, and my girlfriend admitting that she didn't see me as sexy was upsetting. But after speaking to my therapist, I realized that I was projecting my own issues on to the relationship. So I spoke with her again, and she reassured me that she wanted to be with me, and that she was confiding these feelings because she trusted me. She likes how I look, she just doesn't have the same sexual impulses I do.

So, I realized this was pretty much like cuddling. I love physical touch a lot, and I want to cuddle for a much longer time than she does. I like it when someone lies on top of me. She doesn't want me on top of her chest during cuddling. She still cuddles with me, but she tells me when she's satisfied, and we stop.

A few months went by, and I noticed that she wasn't spending any less time with me; she was actually spending more. We would still call every evening when we didn't meet up in person, we would still joke around, and she still told me she loved me and did everything she could to show it to me. We also began trying out new stuff together, and playing games and watching stuff more often. We also still had plenty of physical intimacy with things like cuddling and kissing, which made me really happy.

I realized that I didn't feel like anything was missing from the relationship. I just needed her to show and tell me she loved me in the ways she normally did. Sure, I am still attracted to her that way, but it wasn't something that would make or break the relationship.

It's been years since she came out, and at this point, I never expect anything sexual. It happens rarely, and I always check in with her multiple times before and during. We stop at any point she tells me. There are quite a few hard boundaries about what is and isn't off limits, and I always keep them in mind. I would rather satisfy myself forever than make her uncomfortable, and she knows it.

It's been over 5 years and we are still going strong. I am hoping to ask her to marry me in the next few years, because honestly, I can't picture wanting anyone else by my side. She is kind, funny, beautiful, intelligent, and treats me well. I could never ask for anything more from a partner.

Thank you SO MUCH for sharing. I myself definitely lack knowledge of what it feels like from an allo's perspective, so this was very educational for me, but beyond that... You have no idea how much hope this gives me.

From you being aware of how much sex meant to you in the context of your relationship and still being fine without it, to just... Heck, even your therapist for not blaming her for the situation. Therapy is still very much, in my country at least, an area where the absence or lower levels of sexual attraction will be hastily labelled as something wrong physically or mentally, so... Yeah, the amount of relief I felt reading that, you have no idea. And I can only imagine how much your partner appreciates it too.

Honestly I teared up a bit reading this - I sincerely wish you guys all the best and I hope you have a bright future ahead! (Also fun fact, seems you guys have been together as long as my partner and I have, it's nice to be able to relate to that too hehe^^)

[brianwashere]

So, hear me out. A male reader that is Roy‘s teenage brother. Roy and Jason started dating a few months ago (bcs JayRoy gives me life) and Jason starts hanging out at Roy‘s home more often and is initially really cold to reader (because it‘s Jason, he needs his time). But eventually he really warms up to reader and becomes almost a paternal figure? Just maybe? For me? Please?

-🌱

You are so real for that 🌱.

Have this as a little post op treat! I hope it went well and your happy with it!

**I do not own any characters or part of the franchise from DC**

Pairing: teen!male!reader x platonic!father figure!Jason

Genre: family? Found family?

Summary: go to req

Tw: cussing

Your older brother didn’t have many partners. Serious partners. A few flings, some one night stands, nothing permanent. So when Jason showed up you expected it to be just like that

So when he never even recognized your presence—and when he did he was an asshole—you expected it to just blow over and have him gone in a week max.

The one week mark was 3 weeks ago.

“So…what’s the deal with Jason?” You asked Roy one morning after they’d been together for about a month.

“The…deal?” He asked, confused.

“Well is he like—friends with benefits? A quick fling? One night stand that’s happened 15 times? A booty call?” You suggest, Roy’s face getting more sour with every label you throw out.

“What?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly irritated.

“He’s just been spending more time here and I just thought maybe you shouldn’t sleep here with your fling—“ Roy cut you off.

“He’s not a fling!” Roy yelled.

His tone surprised you. Sure he yelled at you sometimes, but never over something as small as this.

“Jeez man, ok. Calm down…” You muttered.

Your older brother ran a hand down his face.

“He’s my boyfriend. Not friend’s with benefits. Not a one night stand. Not a fling. Not a hooker. He’s my boyfriend.” Roy explained in a clipped tone.

You just blinked at him.

‘Seriously?’

“Mkay…” You said skeptically, grabbing your backpack for school.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You and your best friend, Matty, walked out of school together. You two always walked as far as you could together before you had to go separate ways.

“—No that’s what I was telling him because what if they actually want that and just don’t know how to tell him.” You explain to them.

“Yeah, yeah, I get your point.” Matty agreed. “On the topic of relationships…” they started, laughing some.

“How’s your brother and that asshole going? He gone yet?” They teased.

“No! No! No! You’ll never believe it—hold on. Today. This morning. Roy told me they were like—an actual relationship. Like. Boyfriends.” You spoke quickly, still in shock at your stupid brother and his stupid boyfriend.

“No fucking way.” Matty barked a laugh, shoving you slightly.

“Yup.” You smiled at their reaction and pushed back against them.

“It’s just so fucking annoying. Jason’s such an asshole. He’s so—so mean. Roy can do better. I know he can!” You groaned in annoyance.

“Hey man, I’m sure it’s not actually permanent. Just give it time, they’re bound to split eventually.” Matty advised.

“Yeah yeah…” You sighed as the split in paths approached. “Anyway…bye Matty! See you tonight? Street race, right?”

“Yeah man! I’ll pick you up at 8:00.” Matty confirmed.

“How gentlemanly of you.” You teased, walking off towards your apartment.

Matty rolled their eyes and waved.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You walked inside and your eyes were assaulted by the image of your brother and Jason cuddled on top of the couch in the living room. Cuddled was the PG version of it. They were more like cramming each other’s tongues down their throats.

You grimaced and made a face like someone shoved a lemon slice in your mouth. Even that would be a more pleasurable experience than this.

You started to walk off when Roy finally noticed you and shoved Jason off because Jason was keen on ignoring you. He gave you a look when Roy’s attention was turned to you.

“Hey, how was school?” Roy was breathless and had disheveled.

“You have spit on your chin.” You deadpanned, walking to your room.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You were sitting on the couch, waiting for Matty to pick you up when Jason walked into the living room. You glanced at him then returned to scrolling on your phone.

That was until Jason slumped down on the other side of the couch.

You side eyed him but didn’t say anything. He put his feet on the coffee table.

“Take your feet off the table.” You instructed.

Jason glanced at you and then at the table.

“Yours are on the table.” He pointed out.

“I live here. You don’t.” You said simply, not looking up from your phone.

“Where are you going?” Jason asked, sounding only half interested.

“Why do you care? Thought you’d be face sucking my brother right now.” You spit back.

“We did. Lots. Passionately. He’s showering right now.” Jason gave in too much detail for you.

“Surprised you’re not in there with him.” You snipped back.

“Is it a street race?” Jason asked.

That made you look at him, curious.

“How’d you know?” You asked, eyeing him.

“You’re dressed like it. And Roy told me you sneak out to them a lot.”

“S’not sneaking out…I’m not exactly keeping it a secret…” That was half a lie, you never brought it up and would definitely try to hide it if you could but Roy just knows.

“You didn’t hear this from me. But, south Blüdhaven has some pretty good races. And the pigs don’t care enough to pull you over there.” His advice seemed so random you had to pause and process the information he just spewed out of his mouth. “You‘ll probably have to watch for that Nightwing dickhead though. He’s got a real thing for setting ‘troubled teens’ on the right path.” Jason’s mouth quirked slightly when he said this. Almost in something akin to…fondness?

“Ok…” Matty texted you saying they were there and to “hurry your ass up.” You sighed and stood up, walking out of the door.

‘That was strange…an interaction with Jason that wasn’t outwardly hostile.’

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

A week or so later you were sitting on the couch again. Roy was gunna be gone for a week or so, “doing something important,” he’d said.

The handle to the door jiggled and you raised your eyebrows at it. You heard the very recognizable sound of a key unlocking the door and waited for Roy to walk in.

To your utmost surprise and dismay, Jason walked through the door. Alone.

“Get a jacket on, we’re going out.” Was all he said.

“What, he’s just giving you a key now—?” You started, angry at Roy for giving some guy a key to where you live.

“Get a jacket on, we’re going out.” He stated again. His voice was firmer this time, irritation singeing the edges.

You paused, contemplating this. You were bored out of your mind. You sighed and stood up, grabbing a jacket and walking out the door with Jason, who locked the door. With his own key.

You looked around the parking garage.

“Where’s your car?” You asked, looking around at the selection of cars.

“I don’t have a car.” Jason stated plainly as he walked away from you.

“Oh, what? So we’re just gunna call a cab?” You sighed, annoyed.

“Nope.” You failed to hide your excitement when Jason walked up to a motorcycle.

“You—you own a bike!?” You exclaimed. He nodded.

“Wear this.” He tossed you a helmet. It collided with your chest with a thunk. You caught it then spun it around, examining it. The helmet was black,—at least you think it was…at one point— coupled with numerous scratches and several stickers that had scuff marks to match.

You pulled the helmet onto your head and clicked the chin strap together.

“How’s it look?” You asked rhetorically. Jason knocked you on the head.

“Too loose. Here.” He reached towards the chin strap but you shoved him away.

“I can do it myself, dumbass.” You grumbled, fumbling with the strap to tighten it.

“Well I’m sorry for trying to keep your head from splattering all over the pavement.” He quipped sarcastically. “Roy wouldn’t like that very much.”

You scoffed.

“And you would?” You pressed him. Half joking, but also not surprised if he said yes.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“You remind me of my brother.”

At this you were at a loss. You didn’t know whether that was good or bad and you weren’t about to ask. You just kept your voice and face neutral. Not that it would’ve mattered; he couldn’t see through the helmet visor.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The night was filled with high speed driving and greasy diner food. You learned that Jason wasn’t such a bad guy. He even payed for your meal. When he took you home it was probably 1:00 am.

“Get good sleep tonight.” Jason was leaning on his bike with his hands in his pockets.

“That a threat?” You teased, tossing him the helmet.

“It can be if you don’t listen.” He responded, smiling slightly.

“Yeah ok. Goodnight, fuckface.” You said with no real malice in your voice.

“Night, asshole.” He responded with a tone equal to yours. “Yell if you’re getting murdered.” He added

“Mhmm.” You hummed, already walking up the stairs.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Bonus:

When Roy came home he wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a few dirty dishes, some clothes laying around. He knew you could take care of yourself and therefore didn’t need to have someone checking in on you. But that didn’t stop him for asking Jason to pop in every couple of days. Mainly to try and get his brother and partner to at least tolerate each other.

So when he heard two different voices shouting angrily from inside the apartment his mind jumped to the worst. He unlocked the door and mentally braced himself as he pushed it open.

“—OH YOU DUMB BITCH! LOOK AT THE EXIT! RUN AWAY!”

Roy was met with you and Jason sprawled out on the couch, watching a horror movie, shoving your faces with snacks, and yelling at the protagonist. It was an unexpected but not unwelcome sight.

“I’m just saying I would totally survive! Don’t you think I could survive?” You asked Jason.

“Oh you could totally survive! He’s slow as hell!” Jason responded enthusiastically while shoveling popcorn into his mouth.

You two hadn’t so much as glanced at Roy and he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“Oh hey, Roy.” You greeted, eyes still glued to the tv.

“Hey, babe.” Jason acknowledged.

Roy just sighed, smiling despite his annoyance.

“I’m gunna go unpack.” He said, kissing Jason’s head as he passed by.

“We were thinking Chinese for dinner!” Jason called.

“‘We’ who the fuck is ‘we’? I wanted Vietnamese!” You argued.

“Shut up. I’m paying, I get to choose.” Jason responded, shoving you off the couch with his foot.

Roy just rolled his eyes at the banter and headed towards his room.

[in1-nutshell]

Hi, could you write a story about the version of Susan Farmfield from the TMNT 2012 universe?

Susan goes to the same school as April and Casey.

She's known throughout the school as a weird conspiracy theorist.(Which is why she is being bullied)

She's running around New York City at night with a camera trying to capture something strange and post it on her blog.

She lives with her parents, who are not the most pleasant people.

TMNT 2012 Version of Susan? Lets do this!

Hope you enjoy!

TMNT 2012 Version of Susan Farmfield

SFW, Platonic, Slight Angst, Human reader

TMNT 2012

It wasn’t strange for April and Casey to rant about school life.

The turtles sometimes got invested in the stories.

But there seemed to be one reoccurring figure in the pair’s stories.

Susan Farmfield.

The school’s renown conspiracy theorist.

The person who in charge of the ‘incident’ in the lab that made it smell like graham crackers and pine cones for an entire month.

And the pairs unofficial shadow.

April was nice enough to let Susan stick around, despite Casey’s dismay.

Sure, the girl would go on deep rambles and had that annoying camera around her neck, but she wasn’t hurting anyone…

…Besides the eardrums.

Casey had no problem asking the girl to leave when she got too chatty.

…Until the pity set in…

April and Casey are walking out of school when they hear something in one of the dumpsters by the building. They go to investigate. The lid pops open revealing a smelly Susan gasping for air, garbage juices and a banana peel on her head. April: “Susan?” Susan looks over and perks up waving. Susan: “Hey April! Hey Casey!” She struggles to get out of the garbage bin, landing on her back. Susan: “Ow…” Casey: “That’s gotta hurt.” Susan sits up and smiles at them. Susan: “How was your day?” April helps Susan onto her feet. April: “I think we should be asking you that. Why where you in the garbage bin?” Casey: “To find big foot in the dump?” Susan gets rid of the peel on her hair. Susan: “Nah, that’s next week. I just got dumped in, that’s all.” April: “Wait, someone tossed you in?” Susan: “Actually it was four people—no six if you’re counting the other two who dumped the extra trash on me. But hey, just another Tuesday am I right?” Casey: “Umm…” April: “Have you talked to your parents about this? A teacher? Any other friends?” Susan rubs the back of her neck a bit embarrassed. Susan: “Yeah, mom and dad aren’t in town right now, teachers kinda don’t trust to me after the lab incident and, well, you guys know now.” April and Casey: “…” April takes Susan’s hand. April: “Lets get you cleaned up. Casey grab her bag.” Casey: “but we were going to go—” He shuts up seeing April’s glare. He sighs and grabs Susan’s bag. Susan is just glad her only friends are hanging out with her after school.

Casey didn’t label Susan as a friend, really.

She was just another person they knew from school that hung around them a lot.

The three of them hadn’t had any sort of adventure or talks that weren’t related to school or a sighting of a pigeon.

The turtles were all for hearing Susan’s latest theories at first.

That was until some of her photos she had shown to April and Casey were starting to hit a little too close to home.

Just last week, Susan had shown April a photo of a blurry picture of Pigeon Pete on her blog.

Her blog was dedicated to showing mutant conspiracies in a safe space.

Susan did not tolerate any bad mouthing on her blog.

April had tried to get Susan to gently stop doing her search, but that only made the girl go out for longer periods of time.

As much as Casey found Susan annoying, he had to respect her passion for searching for the ‘truth’.

The turtles are warned about Susan potentially showing up on their patrol routes.

On a roof top… The turtle brothers are resting a bit on a roof top. And by resting, it means Leo and Raph are fighting again while Donnie and Mikey try to stay a lookout. Raph: “Maybe if you’d had acted earlier, maybe they wouldn’t have gotten away!” Mikey: “Guys—" Leo: “Oh, so it’s all my fault!” Mikey: “Dudes—” Donnie: “Just let them be Mikey.” Mikey: “But—” Raph: “Of course its your fault! What kind of leader tells his team to retreat like that!? We had ‘em!” Mikey: “Dudes—” Leo: “Well, if you hadn’t—” Mikey: “Dudes!” Leo, Raph, and Donnie: “What!?” Mikey: “I was gonna say that there was someone on that rooftop over there, but now they’re gone.” Donnie: “Wait! You saw someone watching us and you didn’t say anything!?” Mikey: “You kept on interrupting me! Anyways, you think that’s Susan?” Meanwhile with Susan… Susan was watching the entire fight and just backed away slowly after realizing the one day she found proof of mutants, her camera was dead. Susan: “I just saw some mutant Shrek… no, maybe frogs… no turtles. Yeah turtles have shells…April and Casey are never gonna believe this…”

[occultbooks]

no one asked but here are my favorite passages from all of my oneshots on ao3. gonna put a link to this post in my pinned + update it regularly as my version of a portfolio.

[Sep 8 2020] R is for Roy - Maurice Moss/Roy Trenneman (The IT Crowd)

Moss thought about that. "I dunno. Labels help me figure things out, but I can see why you don't like them. They sort of put you in a box, don't they? You wouldn't like it in a box, I wouldn't like it in jail. We're similar in that way, aren't we? Anyway, I could just keep you filed under R," he smiled.

[Oct 21 2020] Please Don't Touch Me - Jared Dunn/Richard Hendricks (Silicon Valley)

The water cascaded over him, drowning out every sound and every thought, the bathroom light like a sole streetlamp at the end of a dark cul-de-sac. He’d left the fan off so the steam would blind him. He sat on the shower floor, his head in his hands. He didn’t know why he was crying so much. Not that he thought crying was a bad thing, because he knew it wasn’t, but he didn’t know why the simple thought of Richard made him so sad. All he wanted was to help him, to understand him, and he couldn’t even do that. He felt absolutely powerless.

[Jan 20 2021] you just forgot your one pet name for me - Dinesh Chugtai/Bertram Gilfoyle (Silicon Valley)

”hey. dinesh.” he said to the mirror. practicing. he’d never done that before, at least not to prepare a talk with dinesh. “how’s it going, babe?” that word felt wrong in his mouth. it wasn’t a thing he wanted to say. he said it over and over but it was still uncomfortable.  he couldn’t use “darling,” because jared said that to richard all the time. the last thing gilfoyle wanted to do was turn into jared. ugh. “doll” was just too 50s. he didn’t want to say “honey,” or “sweetie.” those were too lovey for a casual conversation to begin with.  fuck it, who cares.

[Jun 6 2021] MCBC and the Rambling Robot - The MC Bat Commander/Jimmy the Robot (The Aquabats! Super Show!)

The Commander was more interested in science in concept than he was in practicality. He liked explosions and chemical reactions and...explosions! When Jimmy started talking about what all the little gears and gizmos do, internal hardware and whatnot, the Commander often tuned it out. He would just stare and stare and stare at Jimmy, almost longingly. The way he got all exasperated when asked about science stuff. How his eyes would (literally) light up with excitement. How happy he seemed, just to be sharing his knowledge with someone else. The good vibes and energies were so nice to just sit there and soak in.

[Oct 2 2021] Helping Out in the Lab - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

“How long have you been wanting to do that for, Spengs?” Ray asked softly. “Do you want honesty or something that sounds sane?” Ray mulled it over. “Honesty. Please and thank you.” “The first day we met.” “When we first met…at the university,” Ray stifled a laugh, grinning, and looked up at the ceiling. “How about that, eh?” Egon blushed again. More silence, the buzzing of fluorescent bulbs horribly apparent in Egon’s head, but he was too lost in the sound of his own heartbeat to care.

[Oct 4 2021] I Need You to Breathe For Me - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

The most terrifying thing known to mankind is the unforeseen consequential altering of previously fixed objectives and other consistencies. Or, at least, this is the most terrifying thing known to Egon. In other words, this is the changing of things that seemed, even if illogically so, safe and unchanging; such as, one losing something sentimental and meaningful.

[Jan 29 2022] The Questions of Who and Why - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

“Spengs!?” Ray didn’t mean to sound so bemused, but it wasn’t often that he saw Egon outside of work. They’d known each other since college, and Ray wasn’t entirely sure that Egon didn’t still live on campus. But here he was, in the dead of night. Ray, realizing this wasn’t as much of a big deal as he was convinced it was, let out a frustrated breath. He motioned with his hand. “Get inside, it’s freezing out!” Egon obliged. Much like a vampire, Egon wasn’t one to enter a house without being invited in, even if he’d been in said house before, and was given express permission to barge in whenever he liked. “Don’t send a Spengler to do a Venkman’s job,” Ray liked to joke. Once inside, true to form, Egon waited until Ray gave him permission to “make yourself at home” before sitting down. From the kitchen, he called, “You want anything to drink?”

[March 4 2022] Starfish - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

Ray pressed his forehead to Egon’s in a reassuring way. Ray was never very good at clear verbal communication on an intimate level, and when it came to expressions of appreciation, or love, most of the time he just seized up. He loved Egon so dearly, and he wished he could say all the things that were in his head; all the things he knew Egon needed to hear. But his mind was either scrambled to no end, or it felt completely blank. He felt guilty about it, because logically, if he talked so much anyway, it should be easy. He only wished it was. Sometimes, all he could really do to show Egon how much he cared was to hold him. In Egon’s head, that was enough.

[May 5 2022] Last Kiss - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

The way Egon looked at him was enough to make Ray crumble to the ground. His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt young again. In his 20s, when him and Egon had met, their studies were the only things they were supposed to be concerned with. They would meet in each other’s dorms, narrowly avoiding Ray’s nuisance roommate, and help each other prepare for tests. Soon enough, it changed. It all changed because Ray caught Egon looking at him in the way he tended to do. Knowing that he’d never be looked at like that again, Ray became somber, and the fleeting lonesome feeling filled his heart again. The look so filled with admiration that it was almost an out-of-body experience. The look that made the insecurities disappear and reappear with fluctuating frequency. The look that made him think, “This face? This body? This soul? You want me?” but allowed every question mark to melt when Egon’s hand brushed his arm. In his isolated months, Ray’s self-image had no doubt deteriorated back to that time. Even with a hand on his face, he felt himself thinking, “This old face? This old body? This old soul? You want me?” 

[May 25 2022] now it's sweat, it's sweat now - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

In my thoughts, a swirl of colors surrounds me. I am an abstract concept within myself, and Egon, who sits adjacent to me in my reality, is surrounding me on every side, watching me with a million eyes. I want to be his only objective. A primal urge rushes through me and I feel overwhelmed, though I am sitting still. A muddled tango of feeling, literally proverbial, yet conceptually literal, as the figures in my mind dance around my stand-in and become more distorted, until they are inky black snakes slithering towards me. I feel shame, and abandonment; not that it has happened, but that it could. Where it is all coming from, I cannot place, but I cannot make it stop. My mind and heart race in syncopation until I’m no longer sure I’m human.

[May 27 2022] conversations with a stone - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

Eleven roses littered the ground, bruised by boots, sunken in soil. Petals were perturbed, stems were severed. A stone engraved; 8 digits and a name. No quote, no relatives, no “loved by many” messages. 8 digits and a name. No service was held for the man under the dirt, being eaten by the inhabitants of the home his body invaded.  Leaves crunched beneath the shoes of a man who’d walked the same path almost a dozen times before. He approached the stone to greet it, to pretend he was speaking to the one lying beneath it, to continue maintaining some placebo of a connection. As he kneeled next to the grave, he felt his lip begin to tremble. 35 years ago, he was alive, and they talked every day. 15 years ago, he was alive, and they talked whenever possible. Two years ago, he was alive, and Ray should’ve called.

[Jul 31 2022] ray gets hurt and then other stuff happens - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

But Egon said nothing. He leaned closer to Ray, clearly unsure of himself. Ray could feel his own heart beat, and he swore he could hear them both. Their noses almost touching, Egon breathed in softly, then let out a small nervous sigh as his eyes flew around Ray’s face, looking for any sign of discomfort so he could pass off what he was doing as something inconspicuous without verbal confrontation. He felt so pathetic; he was like a teenage boy with a crush on a girl, except he was a grown man, and Ray was not a girl, and these alterations to the trope formula only made him feel more terrified. After a beat, he said, “May I…” and then he forgot how to speak. He was paralyzed by the fear of rejection, and he didn’t want to finish the sentence. Egon hated feeling vulnerable; he thought Ray was vulnerable enough for the both of them. Now he felt as exposed as ever, like an outside dog during winter at night.

[Aug 27 2022] The After-Effects of Synthesized Positivity - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

“I love you,” Ray responded earnestly. He’d said this a lot tonight: a couple times at the museum, a few times as they walked to the car, many times on the way home. But he hadn’t yet said it to Egon, alone. It was always “I love you guys,” “I love both of you,” “I love my friends.” A couple times, Egon had considered telling him to shut up. Not that he was jealous. Not that he would ever admit it if he was, which he wasn’t. Egon wasn’t jealous. He didn’t care that the attention wasn’t on him and him alone. He didn’t silently grit his teeth at the simple fact that Ray had enough love to go around, or that he enjoyed expressing this love. Egon was not jealous. He wasn’t. Not at all. Despite this, upon hearing the words, a palpable sense of adoration filled his chest, and his face was so warm he couldn’t blame it on the steam.

[Nov 19 2022] Feeling Lighter - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

Ray held his trusty Zippo lighter in his hand. Old faithful. Sure, Bic lighters had become more common overtime, but why exchange comfort for style? He had closed all the windows. He didn’t want a Story of an Hour revelation. Though, this was unrealistic; nothing could change his disposition, no matter how retrospectively he stared at the sky. Another reason he closed the windows was that the urge to jump through one of them repeatedly was stronger than he cared to admit to even himself. What else could he do in solitude except to break every bone in his body trying to justify his survival? What else could he do now? Flick…flick. Open…closed. He glanced at the door that no one was going to walk through. He looked at the kitchen where no food would be made. There was no saving grace this time. Egon was dead. He couldn’t just take a cab home from the afterlife. Ray had been in the business long enough to know that much. Death is permanent. His leg bounced like he was waiting for something. Every sound he heard made his heart drop. He was an anxious dog lamely waiting for his owner’s return, even though it had been a year. He didn’t have a concept of time. Egon left just last week, right? He’ll come back, right? Flick, flick. Open, closed.

[Dec 22 2022] my job is to love you - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

Egon could predict that Ray was going to get upset no matter what he said. “Raymond, I’m sorry for chastising you, but you’re behaving like a child.” “At least children have a future to look forward to!” Ray yelled, his voice breaking. “This is it for me! I’m stuck with this life!” And then the room became silent. The world stood still, as if it, as well as them, was waiting for one of them to walk out the door and never come back. But then, something shifted. Ray’s breath wavered as the echo of what he had said made its way off of the wall and into his brain. “I don’t…I didn’t mean that.” He whispered. “What am I saying?” Ray stared at his hands, unclenching his fists. Egon stood up, concerned. Ray covered his face with his hands, letting out choking sobs as he fell to the floor.

[Mar 3 2023] doesn't subtract from the fact that i love you for psychological reasons - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

Maybe it was the way that Egon smelled. Like pages of a book, bathed in vanilla. Maybe it was the way his mouth tasted. Always like something sweet. Always. Maybe it was the way he gripped Ray’s neck like the scruff of a cat as they kissed, being careful not to hurt him while still being charmingly possessive. No matter what it was, Ray found it hard to act normal around Egon; it was nearly impossible. They’d only known each other for a year and a semester, but that was enough for Ray. His heart pounded in his chest, and it felt like high school all over again. 

[Jul 5 2023] Bad Ending - Daniel Cain/Herbert West (Reanimator)

They were numbers on a sheet. Time stamps. Statistics. Limp, lifeless bodies.  As Herbert looked out at the sea of those limp, lifeless bodies, he felt no guilt in his chest. No metaphorical blood on his hands. Only literal. His subconscious was colorblind as a greyhound, and he smelled only opportunity. The metal pipe at his feet was dented to oblivion, but still retained its shape. The man holding the pipe, dead on the ground, was not yet beyond recognition. His wounds – a gash across his stomach, scratches and bites in his arms and legs – were no longer gushing blood, yet the wide-eyed expression on his face screamed silently, as if he could still feel what was done to him. Herbert looked at him, feeling something unfamiliar creeping into himself and reverberating throughout his ribcage. His heart was beating hard and uncomfortably as he knelt down. The beaming fluorescents were giving him a headache, or he was allergic to something in the air. He thought that was why his eyes began to water as he took in the battered face of Dan Cain. 

[Jul 27 2023] You're the Man, Jones - Conrad Earp/Jones Hall (Asteroid City)

Silence again. Conrad kept writing. Jones was wondering if the incessant pounding in his head was necessary. He was paranoid, still. He was afraid, still. The world wasn’t ready for a man like Conrad. Jones could handle it himself, but even Conrad couldn’t. He would crumble under the pressure. He was delicate. He was a flower, and there was a shoe crushing his spine and his petals, destroying everything that made him special. And the flower was on top of a tripwire that set off a bomb. The tripwire was Conrad. And the bomb was Conrad. And the shoe was also Conrad. 

[Nov 4 2023] jonah, he was swallowed by a whale - Egon Spengler/Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters)

Can you have love without it being noticed? How do you love without shouting it to the clouds and the sun, the birds and the butterflies, the stars and the moon? Is it possible to be half a whole and still allow people to think you are a unit in and of yourself? How do you mask love? How do you hide something so impossibly consuming? How can you be eaten by a whale and continue to behave like you are not being digested?

NOTE: from here on, the fics have the tendency to be sexually explicit. heed this warning.

[Dec 4 2024] don't have to guess the color of (my) underwear - Gregory House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

"Sickle cell?" Foreman suggested. Wilson felt a vibration begin. He gasped sharply. Everyone looked at him, and Wilson tried not to look ashamed. "I forgot to mention. Wilson is wearing a shock bracelet on his leg. Every time someone says something idiotic, I shock him." House pulled the remote out from his pocket. "Sickle cell doesn't cause nausea." Wilson prayed to a god he didn't believe in that this got diagnosed as fast as possible so he could go home and let House have his way with him. 

[Dec 7 2024] drunk in love or whatever - Gregory House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

He got obscenely close to Wilson’s face. Wilson looked up at him like he was seeing the stars for the first time, and House would never admit how warm that made him feel. He didn’t like being “lovey-dovey” or “soft,” even around Wilson. It didn’t necessarily make him feel weak, it just made him feel vulnerable. He wasn’t worried about weakness; he was weak all the time. But opening his ribcage up and letting someone poke and prod around at his heart…sure, surgeons did it all the time, but what if he loved someone who didn’t know what they were doing? What if he loved someone who really did?

[Dec 14 2024] there he is - Gregory House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

Of course that’s what did it. Of course the words “I love you” made Wilson cum and moan like a bitch. He slowed his thrusts down to a halt as he filled his husband. “God, you were so good, you’re so good for me, I love you, I love you so much, Christ, you’re perfect, I love you.” He fell softly on top of House, kissing at his neck and jaw fervently, practically singing praises as if they were the only things he knew how to say. 

[Dec 19 2024] how out of control we are this evening (darling) - Gregory House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

Beautiful. Wilson had such a complicated relationship with that word. It was so often used, in his youth, to mean like Aphrodite. To be soft, and feminine. To be desirable to men who wanted you to act like a woman. Everyone in Wilson’s life saw him, and they thought, why aren’t you a normal girl? Wilson thought it when he looked in the mirror. He knew he was beautiful. But if that was beauty, well, he would rather have been an amorphous blob, hibernating in a cellar, alone, with no reflective surfaces. Why did he have to choose between being beautiful and being a man? When House—Greg—said he was beautiful, it always meant something different. It felt different. Adonis-like. With the qualities of the feminine beauty he once admonished himself to be rid of, but harnessing them in a masculine way. It was strange, incredibly so. There was still a tinge of the old meaning (how could there not be?), that made Wilson wince when he thought about it for too long. But, when the man who had known him as Dr. James Wilson for the past 20 years had his head between his legs, gripping his hips and thighs for dear life, it was hard to believe he was anything other than a man. What a strange world.

[Dec 30 2024] baby cut me open, take my blood in your mouth - Gregory House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

“Are you an idiot? Of course I liked it. I had all of my power taken from me, and you, in all your wide-eyed sluttiness, gave me some of it back. I kicked you out because I didn’t want to take advantage of you.” “I wouldn’t have let that happen.” “You just did.��

[Jan 6 2025] i could do this forever - Gregory House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

House hated how much that affected him, his cheeks heating up despite himself. He tried not to think about what Wilson was really saying, how that meant that he was loved unconditionally, how that meant that Wilson was choosing to stick around despite House’s frequent power trips and insatiable appetite for bickering. Wilson had lied: he was not at House’s mercy. He chose to play by House’s rules. Wilson was the one trying to keep him around.

[Jan 15 2025] you're like the stars - Robert Chase/Chi Park (House M.D.)

Undressing in this way felt vulnerable. Sure, they’d had sex, but this was different. This was baring your soul to someone who then had to help you carry it gently across a sea of broken glass. This was letting someone look at a story that you were in the middle of writing, asking them if they liked it, hoping they would understand that it’s not quite done. Hoping they would help you finish the book.

[Jan 30 2025] we drink and i bandage your wrists - Gregory House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

He sat down again, dropping the gauze. “Open,” he ordered, producing a single Vicodin from the bottle. House obeyed. Wilson placed the pill on House’s tongue. He felt his muscles relax at the taste. Not just of the dusty pill residue dissolving, but also the taste of Wilson’s fingers. He swallowed the pill, closing his lips around the digits in his mouth, knowing they would be pulled away. Wilson gasped sharply and retracted his hand, wiping it off on the side of his pants. “What’s wrong with you?” “Lots.”

[Feb 12 2025] without the pretty pink ribbon, you'd end up just like me - Gregory House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

House decided she was She like the sun. House was She like a boat or a car. House was She like Mother Nature. House was She like the Universe. House was She who chain smoked in the office of a film noir detective. She put out her cigarette on his wooden desk and pulled a gun out to press it to his head. She whispered in his ear and her lipstick brushed his cheek so he smelled like her.  “How hard is this going to be?” House asked earnestly.  Wilson looked at her with watery eyes. “Hard,” he admitted. “But I’m going to be here.”

[Feb 28 2025] it's like you're in heat - Gregory House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

“I can’t kneel. T-this is the next best thing.” If he keeps talking like this… “I’d kneel for you, though. If I could. I’d pray to you. I’d kill for you.” Wilson squeezed his eyes shut, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. House connected their lips. “I’d let you kill me if you wanted to. If you needed it.”

[Mar 10 2025] codependency and pillows - Gregory House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

The pillow smelled nice. He settled back down against it. He thought about running his hands through House’s hair. The vague scent of his 3-in-1 shampoo permeated the fabric and found itself lodged in the cotton beneath the pillow cover. Wilson felt like a rabid bloodhound as he buried his nose in the cushion, managing to glean more notes with every inhale. The smell of House’s sweat mingled with the woodsy soap. Wilson caught himself whimpering as he breathed it in.  I need to get a hold of myself.  Easier said – thought – than done. Wilson turned the pillow vertically, allowing it to be parallel to his body so he could put his arm around it and hug it close to himself. He nuzzled his face into it like a cat. Once again, he was intending to go back to sleep, but suddenly, the scent felt like it was getting stronger. Maybe he was just drifting into a place between sleep and consciousness where all sensory input was impossibly intense. Or maybe he just missed House so badly that he was having olfactory hallucinations.

[Mar 27 2025] something you all want - Gregory House/James Wilson/Female!Reader (House M.D.)

The problem came thusly: you knew James was also in love with Greg. It took a few months before he was able to admit it, and a few cautious, carefully-timed questions regarding the nature of their relationship. James hadn’t done anything about it, obviously, because he had a reputation at the hospital, but you couldn’t help but think it would do them both some good to get the feelings out there in one way or another. Sure, you loved having James all to yourself, but you didn’t really have him all to yourself as it was. He was with Greg every other day anyway. But, maybe if your hopeless romantic boyfriend was getting what he needed on all sides of his life, the tension in his shoulders would ease. That’s all you really wanted for him: to see him relax. Soon enough, a mischievous idea formed in your head. Maybe we can all get a little something out of this. But it couldn’t be presented like it was your idea. Oh, no, no, NO! Absolutely not. You didn’t want him to think it was for you…even if it kind of was.

[Apr 2 2025] re: my reputation - Gregory House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

House came with a shout that melted into a groan. Wilson slowed to a halt and bent down, kissing the skin of House’s cheek that was beginning to bloom red, kissing the beginnings of tears that threatened to fall. An apology went unspoken, but Wilson understood it regardless. He just continued to kiss the man’s face until they joined their lips together, and all was forgiven.

[klinefelterrible]

Draco: I can’t believe I am saying that but maybe sometimes I would like Harry to be more like Ron

Hermione: what

Hermione: you want whom to be more like whom?

Draco: *sigh* so yesterday I was with Blaise and Ronald in a bar

Draco: they were dressed regularly like they usually do and I was a vision

Draco: I copied my mother’s look from last year’s July Charity Event

Hermione: bark

Draco: thank you

Draco: so there we were, chatting, talking, having drinks and everything and all of the sudden Ronald, this shapeless chump of human clay asks Blaise:

Draco: „are you using your butt right now, sweet cheeks?”

Draco: and I thought he meant me but clearly he didn’t

Draco: not that I would sex talk with Weasley, but anyway

Draco: and I saw Blaise’s eyes going full sparkly and his lips saying „just sitting”, and a second later he bit his lips and added „that means it’s free” and Ron

Hermione: been there

Draco: he was all grabby of Blaise’s ass and he just made that cute little magic barier and without further ado they just knew and Blaise was suddenly bend over on all fours and Ron took him on spit lube

Draco: and I was like whaaaaat

Draco: and it took Ron like a minute from start to end but girl that was hot

Draco: he just used that ass because Blaise wasn’t

Draco: Potter isn’t a romantic like that

Hermione: I saw him choke you and shove his dick into you roughly and without any preparation like a hundred times

Draco: yeah

Draco: but he never asks if my ass is free for playing

Hermione: you guys have different vibes, that’s all

Draco: yeah maybe

Draco: but I think I would like Potter to sometimes ask me too

Draco: not that I would like to be asked, I would never have sex with such a loser

Hermione: what

Draco: he has this sex fantasy

Draco: and I play along

Hermione: you guys are so cute

Hermione: I mean you and Harry

Hermione: Ron and Blaise are not as cute as you two

Draco: oh look, you know what to say

Draco: how nice, thank you

Hermione: I did learn it hard way, didn’t I

Draco: oh please, I only called you a bitch once

Hermione: I—

Draco: I mean in that situation

Draco: it’s like your second name now

Draco: Hermione „bitch” Granger

Hermione: Draco „slut” Potter Malfoy

Draco: actually it’s Draco „cockslut” Malfoy Potter, because I always come first

Hermione: that’s clever! But not official, right?

Draco: yeah no those assholes from the ministry of magic didn’t want to add „cockslut” to my name officially

Draco: I still cannot figure out why

Draco: it’s not like I am telling it to everyone

Hermione: …because everyone knows you already?

Draco: are you saying that my reputation precedes me?

Hermione: okay, that’s that

Hermione: also since 4th year of school I have never seen you not in miniskirt and fuck-me-heels, devouring Harry with your cold, smokey eyes?

Draco: oh

Draco: am I that obvious

Hermione: uh—

Draco: so a girl cannot wear what she wants without being labeled as slut by society?

Hermione: YOU WANT THEM TO KNOW YOU’RE A SLUT

Draco: do I?

Hermione: yes!

Draco: then I’m okay with it

Draco: fine! I’m officially a slut

Hermione: waiter! We need another two margaritas!

Draco: uhm—

Hermione: SIX MARGARITAS!

Draco: good girl

Draco: see? You’re not always a bitch

Hermione: and what about your order?

Draco: …oh you cunning little bitch

Hermione: I was kidding, some of them are for you

Draco: some?

Hermione: …one? *wink*

Draco: do you want to taste my butt when I am repeatedly forcing you to eat it under the table while I am drinking all of my margaritas?

Hermione: can’t decide if I am a good girl or a bitch or a bad bitch

Hermione: which one should I choose to eat your ass for a reward of a one lousy drink?

Draco: do a good job and we’ll see

Draco: because there is not such thing as good bitch

Draco: but maybe, just maybe…

Hermione: I’m on it

Hermione: I just need to wash my throat with at least one margarita

Draco: if you don’t hurry up, I will find someone else to—

Draco: hey! There’s only three left!

Draco: I will make you order more when you finished

Hermione: mmmm

Draco: oh shut the fuck up and learn your place

Hermione: mm-mm

Draco: you wanna talk or make my ass feel good?

Hermione: mmhm

Draco: you indecisive bitch

Draco: enjoy my sweetest little butt

Draco: I might give you a little seasoning later

Hermione: for the record: you mean your cum, right?

Draco: of course! What else?

Hermione: I thought you wanted to shit in my mouth or something

Draco: don’t worry

Draco: you are not that kind of bitch in this family

Draco: this particular pleasure is reserved to my aunt Bellatrix

Draco: the one and only both death-eater and poop-eater

Draco: my aunt Andromeda calls her death-breath

Hermione: mmm—

Draco: or a bitch, you’re right

Draco: I used to hate your being right in everything but now it’s kind of comforting

Draco: oh yeah right there

Draco: but you will never be as graceful as us, Malfoys

Draco: or make potions so well

Draco: but I can honestly tell you that my mom said that you are almost as good as her

Draco: in some cases

Hermione: MMGGBBLLGBBB

Draco: and she likes you

Draco: like likes-likes you

Hermione: *comes*

Draco: did you just come

Hermione: I started fingering myself when you mentioned your mom

Draco: that shows dedication

Hermione: it’s an unconditioned reflex

Draco: come here, Hermione, we have another round of margaritas to order

Hermione: you were supposed to leave me one!

Hermione: wait, did you just call me „Hermione”?

Draco: I wanted to know what it’s like to be a bitch

Draco: also I drank all the margaritas, you deserved a little treat

Hermione: WAITER!

Hermione: you owe me, Malfoy

Hermione: ANOTHER SIX MARGARITAS!

Draco: now about that seasoning…

Hermione: I will drink my margaritas first

Hermione: I am not taking any chances with you, you—

Draco: with me, me— what?

Hermione: I am thinking!

Hermione: I think now you are a little bitch

Draco: I can live with that

Hermione: margaritas come first

Draco: I—

Hermione: not this time, slut

[keithisbae1]

Mission Gone Wrong Part 1/2

Art commissioned by the amazing @sorceressmyr to go with the snippet below. I hope you enjoy 😊

Part 2 is here

~~~

“Mama, can we get this one too please?” Sakura asked pointing to the packet of sweets on a higher shelf. “You know eating too many sweets is bad for you.” But nonetheless she grabbed a packet for her.

“Only one though.”

Sakura could only grin skipping happily ahead.

“All right, what else is there?” Tsunade muttered to herself looking at the list of groceries they needed. As Sakura waited for her by the end of the aisle, she watched as two suspicious looking men carrying what Sakura could only think of was stolen goods?

Quick, hurry, hurry. One of them was thinking opening the door for the other guy. They looked quite beat up too, but she was too far to know for sure.

She knew better than to follow but her fascination for adventure and curiosity tend to get the best of her, so she looked behind to make sure Mama wasn’t looking and wandered off after. The door in question led outside an alley much to Sakura’s surprise and she quickly dashed behind a trash can to spy watching them.

“You think we lost him?” One of them panted, perhaps they were injured. “I took care of him, no worries about that.”

Are they bad guys?

Of course they must be, just like the ones in her shows. They indeed were hiding/carrying items, but she couldn’t quite figure out what they were entirely.

“Oi, what are you doing here?” Sakura squeaked feeling herself being lifted from her hiding place, having no idea there was another behind. The other two seemed shocked as to how she got there.

“When did she get here?”

“You idiots! Weren’t you two careful?” The ‘boss man’ Sakura labelled him as in her head yelled at them. “Well, we DID have to go through an entire building! He was already on our case!”

“Doesn’t matter, take care of her.” He shoved the little girl into another man’s arms, and he froze looking down at her and back at the man.

“Hey! Is that necessary? She’s just a child, what could she possibly do.”

“What part of take care of her don’t you understand? We can’t risk any witnesses, including a child.”

“I’m sorry, I got lost,” She tried to explain/lie hoping they would let her go. The two did seem hesitant and whilst she had no idea on what exactly ‘take care’ meant she knew it was bad. If only she stayed with her Mama.

“But-”

“Do as I say, who do you think you-” The man was interrupted as another figure jumped on top of him promptly knocking him out.

Papa! Sakura instantly recognised the person but knew better than to scream his name. He was wearing a mask since it was daylight, but Sakura knew of his ‘work’ and recognised his eyes.

Dan was surprised to see her there but made sure not to get too off guard. If they knew he was related to her, she would be in even more danger.

“Stay back, or I’ll-” Despite the threats they both knew he was not capable of doing anything to the innocent girl, so instead he gently placed her down surprisingly and told his friend to leg it. They knew he would most likely be distracted making sure the child was safe, thus giving them time to escape.

“Are you hurt?” Dan went to check on the girl, Sakura shook her head no. “Good, listen I need you to go to your parents, anyone. Lead them over here and they can call someone to take care of this guy.”

“Okay.” She nodded and ran around the building.

It wasn’t likely that he would be able to catch up to them, but he needed to get out of here before Tsunade came along.

As Sakura rounded the corner she saw her Mama outside, perfect! Well maybe not, it seemed she was aware that she ran off again and Sakura knew she would get into trouble later. However, her first instincts were to do what Papa said, before the guy woke up.

“There you are! What did I tell you about-”

“Mama, you have to come with me quickly!” Sakura tried to pull Tsunade’s hand with all her might to move her, but the woman didn’t budge.

“Slow down,” she picked up the little girl settling her with one arm.

“What’s gotten you so worked up?”

“Over there.” Sakura pointed to the alleyway where she just came out of. “There were some bad men and they tried to hurt me.”

“Eh?” Tsunade quickly ran over to the area thinking/hoping that it was her imagination and playing. Indeed, there was a guy who Dan had previously knocked out laying on the floor. No one else was there though. How’s he so fast, Sakura thought but at least the bad guy was still unconscious.

Tsunade spotted a weapon that had fallen and had promptly slipped it under the trash so Sakura wouldn’t see it and be spooked by it. She doubts Sakura was fully aware of how much danger she was in.

“How did you…” Escape?

“I got lost. A stranger saved me, but he… he left…” She won’t say it was Dan but felt safe knowing she had a Papa who could protect her.

“See, this is why I tell you to stick by me.”

[sgiandubh]

honestly don't think it's stupidity, but rather the desire to stir the pot.

Dear Stir The Pot Anon,

How about both: stupid and dying to stir the pot?

I feel, however, I would have to explain myself, just to make sure my point will be properly understood. You see, lack of information/knowledge or social clumsiness has never been my own definition of stupidity. To me, intelligence will always and above anything else be equated with being flexible enough as to take into account the opposite POV, while assuming full responsibility for your own opinions, in all good faith. Thus, stupidity would be the contrary of what I just defined.

The person mentioned in that context never seems to consider the opposite POV, which she readily dismisses as 'confirmation bias' : this, to me, is a sure sign of arrogant intellectual laziness and oh, how conveniently so, when things do not suit your own agenda! She also never seems to take full responsibility for her own opinions. Instead, she would always state she was misquoted, took out of context or simply misunderstood - that is insulting her readers and making me chuckle, every single time. I mean, d'oh, how many times could that statistically happen in an organic, honest fashion? You either fuck with your audience's good faith or you really do have a miscommunication problem, right? You simply cannot drop nuclear bombs in a row and then hide behind a hypocritical 'oops, didn't mean it that way' every single time people call you out or question your motivation. It's obvious they know what they are doing/writing and they do it while insinuating all sorts of things, primarily for attention and weighing in the debate, at all costs. If that is not 'stirring the pot', I don't know what is, Anon.

Being FIRST and ALWAYS RIGHT seems to be the mandatory complement to constantly stirring the pot. That probably explains why she was also repeatedly used in the past to push a certain agenda, until her own unchecked Taliban zeal cooled down that strategy, at least for a (good) while. Add to this that propension to constantly bring attention to herself and create drama every single time her integrity is being questioned (enroll other bloggers, invent Anons, you name it) - insecure, anyone?

In a nutshell, stupid is as stupid does: equating the entire shipper community with just one of the trusted or believed theories, thus conveniently forgetting 'our' side of the fence is far more tolerant and open-minded than 'theirs'. Labelling bloggers you do perceive as a potential threat as 'nutcases', just because you probably resent their traffic figures and perceived 'success' (WTF?). Never taking responsibility for your own shortcomings and simply say 'hey, I was wrong, things like this happen and this is not a beauty pageant', which seriously is the least thing one could do if wanting to show they really respect their audience.

Enough said, Anon. I have mercifully just scratched the surface. You have asked for my sentiment and I honestly gave it to you, while also trying to be cool and collected about someone who sent more than a fair share of spite, lies and insults right down my alley. It is what it is. Some things will probably never change. The intelligent way is to go ahead, keep a cool head about it all and never waiver. Thanks for asking.

[snazzydwarf]

More Then Love, Less Then Romance

For as long as everyone has known him, Cale wasn't someone who thought about romance. Sure he may indulge in a book or two pertaining the subject, but other then that? Nothing. Nobel women may bat their lashes or men could puff out their chest, but all they got in return was an annoyed glance before he would turn back to the children. It was something they had come to accept about him, but they also couldn't help but grow curious and wonder about their own relationships with the man.

THAT'S RIGHT, WHO JUST STARTED A ARO!CALE FIC AT 3AM? ME!

I'm so tired but I hope y'all like it! and yes the first chapter is a feels fest with the Soo's. Love them <3

You can read it there on Ao3 or bellow the cut! Hope you like it anyways! (it's short for now-)

Kim Rook Soo knew he was Aromantic.

Experiencing no romantic attraction was something he felt… not ashamed of, but it wasn't something he liked to talk about while he was in Korea.

He already knew what others thought of him, how he was someone with no emotions, someone that was cold and borderline cruel and loath he would admit it, he didn't want to prove them right, after all isn't love something that all people experience?

He remembers seeing it everywhere growing up. Movies, books and even holidays where focused on the love between two people. Being surrounded by stories of "love at first sight" and "waiting for the right one" always made a little Kim Rok Soo feel even less human as he did before.

The first time he ever got a phone — once he left the orphanage and saved up enough money — Kim Rook Soo couldn't help but search for answers.

"how to love people?"

"can someone learn love?"

"what does love feel like?"

"can you create love?"

Kim Rok Soo couldn't recall how long he was staring at the screen that night reading articles, blogs and even scientific journals, all in a attempt to find an answer to the question he always asked but received no answer too.

Until one day he stumbled upon a blog post.

"Aromanticism is real, and what it's about."

It was recently made, only a few days old and had very little attention, but to Kim Rook Soo it was a lighthouse in the stormy sea he was born in.

Aromantic…. yes that's what he was.

It felt right, if not a little daunting.

Like a ill gotten suit that was much too big for his body, Kim Rok Soo knew that with time he would grow into this new label for himself. For now he wrapped that coat around his bony shoulders and felt the rocking waves ease a little.

For awhile it was a comfort, even when he lost everything and his own mind to his memories, he never lost that part of himself.

Getting close to Lee Soo Hyuk and Choi Jung Soo wasn't apart of the plan; but like all misfortunes in his life they never left him alone.

Of course after knowing each other for so long and spending almost every waking moment being together after becoming Team 1, the questions started.

"Do you ever want to settle down Rook Soo?"

Of course he did, the farm and his slacker life remember?

"Hey, hey Rok Soo! That rookie from the other team was looking at you~"

Probably just staring at his scars Jung Soo, or maybe they where staring at your dumb expression.

"Is there any girl you like dongsaeng?"

Grandma Kim was always nice.

"That's not- okay what about guys? Any interest there Rok Soo-ya?"

Of course not. Only you two like me

After awhile the subject dropped.

He never figured out weather they thought he was that oblivious or they came to understand he simply never felt that way like others do. He hopes they did, they knew him better then anyone else did, maybe even better then he knew himself.

When he- when everyone lost them the grief was insurmountable.

The label he surrounded himself in comfort became a collar that tightened at every word that spilled from their lips.

He cried no tears, so therefore he didn't care.

His face was stone and so was his heart.

He was already a freak in their eyes, what would happen if they ever found out he couldn't feel something as human as love, the love they knew at least.

He knew love, they wouldn't believe him.

Love, was late nights in a broken building squashed between two bodies as they whispered to each other thinking he was asleep.

Love, was giving up the last piece of food because you knew that Choi Jung Soo had a rough day.

Love, was combing through Lee Soo Hyuk's long strip of hair he refused to cut for what ever reason.

Love, was feeling your world crumble around you but choosing to keep putting one foot in front of the other, all because you made a promise.

Love, was waking up in new world and all you can wonder was who would replace the flowers by two graves.

As Kim Rok Soo, no, as Cale lazied in his bed surrounded by pillows and three warm bodies pressed up against him, he couldn't help the feeling of contentment welling up inside him.

Bassen is the heir, so the pressure for him to marry and have kids was off his shoulders and he was confident enough in his family to not pressure him into choosing a wife anyways.

Cale strokes down Hong's back in thought, lips quirked up a in soft smile as two tiny paws begin to make biscuits on his tummy.

'I already have kids anyways' he thought while darkness envelopes him once more.

Two faces meet his in the darkness, but this time his heart was already full and the warmth didn't fade as they called out his name.

'Kim Rok Soo!'

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Remembrance of Things Past: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fearing for your life

Summary: Someone leaves an unmarked package by your door that sends you into a spiral of fear. Meanwhile, the team joins forces with Virginia police on a case Rossi was on decades earlier, one that he will have to go back into in order to figure out the one that's staring at him in the face.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were." - Marcel Proust

"I swear I'm not making it up," you say as you turn the coffee machine on. "I felt eyes on me last night. Like someone was watching me. Like someone was in my apartment. I don't know. Maybe I'm going crazy."

"Was anything missing from your apartment?" JJ asks over FaceTime.

"No."

"Maybe you just had a bad dream or something."

"Yeah, maybe." Spencer walks into the kitchen as he finishes tying his tie, and he walks over to the coffee maker. He looks at your phone propped up against the flour container and smiles when he sees JJ. "Hey, Spence."

"JJ! It's good to see you."

"I miss all of you."

"We miss you, too." Spencer pours himself a cup to go before kissing you briefly. "I'll see you at work, okay?"

"Okay," you nod.

Spencer loves to get to work early when he can while you like to take your time in the morning and enjoy it before heading out.

"So, this mysterious person... Is there any energy left behind?"

"No or none that I'm seeing."

"I thought you saw them all."

"No, not everyone. I barely notice Spencer's. I don't notice half the team's anymore. I guess the ones that I've gotten to know personally, I don't see anymore."

"Hmm, I'm sure it's nothing."

You grab the coffee pot and pour what's left into your thermos so you can take it to work even though you know Spencer will have a cup waiting for you on your desk.

"So, are you excited for your new job?" you grin.

"It's going to be new, that's for sure."

"You're going to do great. Seriously, you're really valuable."

"Thank you. Listen, I have to get Henry ready before my meeting with the Pentagon."

"Give Henry my love. Oh, and JJ?" She looks at you through the tiny iPhone screen. "I'm proud of you."

"I'm proud of you," she smiles back.

You two hang up and you finish getting ready for work. You grab your purse and open the front door but frown when you see a package sitting at your front door. Was this always here? When did it get here? Who dropped it off? Spencer would have noticed a package when he left so it had to have come after he left. Why didn't anyone knock on the door?

You set your purse and thermos on the small table near the door and pick up the box to inspect it. There is no label or anything on it indicating who it's for but curiosity gets the better of you. You only realize how stupid of you it is to pick up an unmarked box when you hear something click inside of it. Rhythmic and steady beeping comes from inside the box and your entire body is paralyzed in fear.

Someone sent you a bomb in a box and you're holding it. Any slight movement will cause it to go off, killing you and potentially everyone else in this building. You have both hands underneath the box so you can't lean over and grab your purse which has your phone in it.

"Siri!" you yell loud enough for your phone to hear. "Hey, Siri!"

No response comes from her. You must be too far for her to hear. You're forced to wait until someone comes to your rescue, and you let tears fall at the many possibilities this can have.

After making a cup of coffee for you, he expected you to be at your desk. Since you're not, he takes the cup to the briefing room, passing by JJ's empty office. He pauses by the door and sees Penelope already inside of it. This is the first day since JJ left and not everyone is ready to do this without her.

"I miss her, Penelope sighs.

"Me too."

Penelope removes the nameplate from the door and heads back to her cave while Spencer walks into the briefing room. He sets the coffee on the desk where your spot is and takes his seat. Derek and Emily walk into the room with Derek nose-deep in his phone. He chuckles at a text he gets and sits down.

"Is that Ellie again?" Emily asks.

"She texts me every morning on her way to school."

"How is she doing?"

"She's already got herself a bff named Jill, and she thinks she wants to play soccer."

"She's adjusting. That's good."

The rest of the team walks in to start the briefing, and Hotch looks at your empty seat. Rossi isn't here since he is on vacation.

"Where's Y/N?"

"She should have been here by now," Spencer frowns. "Probably morning traffic. She'll be here shortly."

"Alright, we can't wait for her. Let's get started." Hotch hands out files to everyone. "The body of twenty-five-year-old Jenny Delilly was found yesterday in Bristol, Virginia. She had been tortured, sodomized, and electrocuted before being forced to make a goodbye call to her parents. Her body was then dumped off Elden Street. A week ago, the body of Kara Kirkland was found in the same area having suffered identical injuries."

"This reminds me of the Butcher case," Derek says.

"Why does that name sound familiar to me?"

"The Butcher was a sexual sadist who killed twenty women in the same area of Virginia from 1984 to 1993 and then vanished. He tortured blond women in their twenties who lived in or near Bristol."

"That was one of Rossi's old cases, wasn't it?" Emily asks.

"Yes."

"Does he know?" Rossi walks into the briefing room holding an opened box in his hands. "Some vacation. Did you get any sun?"

"I never got any anything."

"Do you think the Butcher's back?"

"I doubt it. We profiled him as a white male in his late forties back then. He'd be in his seventies by now."

"Didn't you almost catch him?"

"In the spring of '93, we narrowed the geographical profile. We alerted every blonde in their mid-twenties in Bristol and the surrounding counties. The pressure got so intense that the killings just stopped," Rossi sighs.

"Well, the Copelands killed into their seventies. This could be him coming back," Spencer suggests.

"It's probably a copycat. If he's emulating the Butcher, he could just be getting started. Alright, let's go over victimology."

"Both Jenny Delilly and Kara Kirkman were single professional women. Jenny had just gotten a job as a web designer, and Kara worked for a nonprofit. Each woman was taken from a populated area with no witnesses. Jenny from a crowded drugstore parking lot and Kara from the back patio of a ground-floor apartment when her roommate went inside to answer the phone."

"Why not take the roommate?" Derek asks.

"She's brunette. He prefers blondes."

"These vics were forced to make phone calls. Jenny left a message and Kara spoke with her fiancé."

"Garcia, were you able to trace the calls?" Hotch asks.

"My pretties, they're using disposable cells so I'm coming up empty."

"We do have a timeline, though. According to the ME's report, both victims were dead for about three hours before they were found which means based on the times of their messages, they endured five additional hours of torture after making their goodbye calls."

"It wasn't enough that he caused his victims pain and suffering, it extended to their parents as well?" Spencer wonders. "Rossi, were the phone calls the Butcher made his victims leave similar?"

"Yeah, but the content varied. Thirteen vics left answering machine messages for loved ones, five actually talked to someone before they died, and two reached no one."

"Didn't the Butcher make his victims end their messages by saying they were enjoying it?"

"That was his signature."

"Wouldn't that make a sadist flaccid?" Derek asks.

"It wasn't about him. It was about the parents. He wanted to make sure that they knew he had complete control and dominance over their daughters," Rossi shrugs.

"Alright, Morgan and Prentiss, go to the ME. We need to compare the ritual and MO. Rossi, Reid, and I will interview the families and go over the messages. Reid, where's Y/N?"

Spencer frowns at your absence and takes out his phone to call you. It rings six times before going to voicemail, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He tries you once more but the same thing happens again.

"Something's wrong. I need to go home. We'll drive up together once I figure out what's going on. It's only a thirty-minute drive to Bristow."

"Okay. Keep me informed."

Spencer is out of his seat before Hotch can finish speaking. Spencer races home and practically sprints up the stairs to your apartment.

"Y/N?" he calls out.

"Spencer," you cry. He steps off the top stair and pauses when he sees the brown box in your hands. You're trying hard not to shake and sweat is rolling down your forehead. "Don't come near me."

"What's going on?"

"I think this is a bomb. There's something ticking in here."

Spencer's eyes widen in concern. "Don't move. I'll call it in." He takes out his phone and calls the head of the bomb squad. Yes, he's been in enough situations to have him in his contacts. He quickly explains the situation to the man who says he'd be right over with his team. He dials Hotch next and keeps a close eye on you. "Hotch, we have a problem."

"Is Y/N okay?"

"She thinks someone sent a bomb to our house. She's standing in the doorway holding a brown box terrified. I don't know much more about it but I'll let you know when I do."

"Is the bomb squad on the way?" Rossi asks.

They must be in the car and the call went through Bluetooth.

"Yeah."

"Should we turn around?"

"No, you keep working the case. I'll be right here with her. As long as she doesn't move, she'll be fine."

"Please be careful and call when you know more."

"Of course." Spencer hangs up and looks at you. "It's going to be okay, Y/N. You're going to be okay. The bomb squad is on the way. Just try not to move."

"I'll try," you cry, trying to keep yourself from shaking.

The whole team is worried about you and Spencer but they have a job to do. They get to Bristow and meet with Detective Green who is eager for their arrival.

"This isn't the Butcher, believe me. Unless the Butcher is Jack Lalanne, this is a younger copycat."

"We need a room with a whiteboard, a window, and six chairs," Rossi says. "The bodies were left in the exact same location."

"Everybody knew the details of this case. The paper even printed part of the answering machine messages. It's a copycat."

"Have you been able to step up police presence on Elden Street?" Hotch asks.

"It's a seven-mile stretch that runs through the city. I've done what I could considering our budget."

"Are detectives Clemmons, Benton, and Gallagher still here? They worked on the first case," Rossi says.

"Clemmons and Benton both died two years ago. Gallagher retired from the force when his wife was killed at the Pentagon on 9/11."

"So, you're the lead detective on this?"

"Unfortunately. Look, the families of the victims should be here any minute. If there's anything I can do to help you guys, let me know."

"Thank you."

Both victims were assaulted with an electrified object based on the burn wounds that could have been by a curling iron, poker, or some other object. Both also have lacerations on their bodies with slight ones near the throat and deep ones on the chest. Whoever did this used multiple knives. The unsub was creative. There are also contusions on the backs of their heads likely sustained during the abduction.

It's a slightly different approach than the Butcher's abductions. Based on Rossi's profile, the Butcher was a smooth-talker who lured his victims without initial physical force. Clearly, this unsub doesn't have the same confidence or finesse. He's sloppy.

Derek and Emily head to the place where Jenny was taken and watch the security footage to understand what might have happened.

"Alright, this is right where she parked her car," Derek points to the empty parking spot, "and then she rushed in there to get a prescription. Then, she comes back to her car and somebody gets her attention."

"They call out to her. She throws her stuff in the trunk and runs off that way," Emily points, "and that's when we lose her. So, how do you snatch someone from here? Push her into a car?"

"It's way too crowded, but there is a blind spot right there. There's enough of an obstruction here to park your car, blitz her from behind, and then push her into the vehicle. Could you do that alone?" Derek asks.

"I doubt it. Two people would explain how the first victim was abducted so quickly from the patio when her roommate went in to get the phone."

"It would also shed light on the ME's findings. There wasn't one unsub with two knives, it was two unsubs with their own weapons."

Derek turns off the iPad and looks around the parking lot with a sigh.

"I'm worried about Y/N."

"Me too." Emily takes out her phone and calls Spencer. "Hey, Reid, is there an update?"

"The bomb squad is here and they evacuated everyone out of the building including me. I hate waiting knowing she's up in there terrified out of her mind."

"She's going to be okay. You have to believe that."

"Yeah, I know," he sighs.

"Keep us informed."

Spencer looks up at the building in wonder and wishes you're doing okay.

x

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