#like mildly just about nonexistent

[xxsabitoxx]

JJK Men: Who is Most Likely to Have a Daddy Kink

Warning: this contains smut but not like... explicit smut. More so NSFW talk about kinks and such hehe

A/N: Listen... I used to have a real big daddy kink and I grew out of it forever ago... but sometimes y'all use "daddy" just right in some of your fics and it has me kicking my feet. So, for funzies, I wanted to share my personal HCs on who has a daddy kink and who doesn't lol

Geto Suguru

Sitting pretty and number one is none other than Suguru. Listen, I think this man has a massive daddy kink. I think this man gets off on you calling him daddy in and out of the bedroom. Like honestly? If you are really into it just like he is, he wouldn't mind it if you called him daddy all the time. Like, maybe save for calling him daddy in public or around friends. But in the privacy of your own home? In bed? When no one else can hear you? He'll be putty in your hands if you sweetly call him daddy. Part of the reason I say this is because I think Suguru is 100% a brat tamer, I think he lives for you being a little brat to him just so he can assert his authority over you and put you in your place. He thrives off of the ability to feel superior.

But, roughness aside, he will absolutely give you the best aftercare. Suguru will make sure you know how loved you are, he will constantly ask you for your reassurance that you are alright and he wasn't too hard on you. He'll shower you in love and praise and assure you that you are everything to him. He can get mean when he's in the mood to put you in your place, so he always prioritizes the aftercare.

2. Nanami Kento

I think Nanami has a daddy kink but he's kind of shy about it. Nanami actively hopes that you take the initiative and call him daddy. He's a bit embarrassed about the fact that he really likes the idea of being called daddy. He fantasizes about it when you aren't around to help him get off, stroking himself to the idea of you whispering that one word to him when he fucks you stupid. If you aren't going to take the initiative and call Nanami daddy, he'll eventually give in. He'll likely be balls deep in you when he grits out that you are to call him daddy. He'll be too lost in your body to even feel shame or embarrassment about the request and fuck will he come fast when you finally utter that one pretty word to him. All breathless and fucked out, you'll have Nanami falling apart every time you call him daddy.

Nanami also enjoys alternatives to Daddy, like calling him "sir". Unlike Suguru, he enjoys how respectful it sounds. Nanami won't make you call him daddy or sir outside of the bedroom, it's strictly a sex thing for him unless you express the interest in trying it outside of that scenario. Then, just maybe, Nanami will entertain the thought.

3. Ryomen Sukuna

Before you come and chew me out for the king not being at the top of this list... hear me out. Sukuna is from the Heian period, the man canonically speaks in old Japanese. Hell he asked Megumi to bewitch him. The term "daddy" is a little too new for Sukuna. That's not to say he won't grow to find interest in it. Sukuna much prefers when you call him things like "my king" or "my lord" he even enjoys "sir". But daddy will definitely take some getting used to for him. Once Sukuna gets acquainted with the idea, he will thoroughly enjoy it. He rather likes how flustered you get when you utter the word, making you say it in front of others just to watch them get uncomfortable as you so politely refer to him as daddy. He gets off on the embarrassment more than the word itself, but he does enjoy the nice little ring it has.

Aftercare can be mildly nonexistent with Sukuna. Sometimes his form of aftercare is making you cock-warm him after he just spent hours abusing your most sensitive bits. But other times he'll wrap you in his arms and whisper about how "nobody will ever love you like daddy does." brainwashing you into being content with him.

4. Gojo Satoru

Satoru has mixed feelings about the whole "daddy kink". Depending on your relationship, it may not be rare for you to jokingly call him daddy. Just as he will jokingly call you mommy. But these little "jokes" take a steep turn one night when he's fucking you stupid and he asks you to call him daddy for real. For some reason, it does him in. You'll later learn that you rather enjoy when he calls you mommy while you fuck and then it turns into this awkward little "we shall not speak of this outside of the bedroom" topic. You'll use the words against each other when in public just to see the other get worked up. But, much to Satoru's dismay, he realizes he really does like it when you call him daddy. He can't even explain it, especially since he would relentlessly tease Suguru for having a daddy kink.

Satoru loves aftercare, especially after times when he's punished you. The same can be said for when you provide aftercare after punishing him... having a daddy and a mommy kink is a whirlwind for the two of you. Satoru will clean you up and the tuck both of you in under the nice comfortable blankets, whispering about how he adores you and appreciates you for letting him live out his little fantasies.

5. Fushiguro Toji

Toji isn't really into the daddy kink... mostly because it reminds him of the responsibilities he ran away from... but if you really have a thing for calling him daddy, he's not going to stop you. Toji actually prefers it when you're mean to him, calling him filthy and rude names, belittling him, and calling him a nasty old pervert. He gets off on you being rude to him while he fucks you stupid. Nothing gets him off more than being called a sleazy fucking perv. He doesn't know why but you degrading him will have him blowing his load shamelessly in minutes. But if you really want to call him daddy, Toji will for sure entertain you. Because fuck does he love putting a brat in their place.

When it comes to aftercare, it really depends on your relationship. Toji may just blow his load and then dip, leaving you to clean up and pull yourself together. But if Toji has feelings for you, or if you fucked him really good? He'll clean you up before collapsing in bed beside you.

[charliedawn]

Hello i really like your fanfics about the slashers and I have a request as to what if the nurse one day walks in with a baby in her hands and the slashers think it's hers but not knowing she was just babysitting

(If you do not want to do this request I understand I was hesitant when I wanted to ask this😭)

Warning: Reckless babysitting involved

Freddy: "That thing yours ?"

Freddy is cash.

He ain’t gonna beat around the bush.

The moment he sees a baby in the hospital, he’ll ask himself two things: first, who shagged and brought that thing to life. And two, why is it looking at him like its gonna suck his nonexistent soul out of his body ?

And since there aren’t that many women in the hospital and you were the one holding the baby, he would automatically assume that the pink fleshy thing is yours. He would then be relieved to find out that it wasn’t yours. (Not because he doesn’t think you would be a great parent, but because he kinda sees you as the mama bear of the asylum and could get jealous of not receiving enough attention.)

Freddy *proceeds to carry the baby and puts shades on him and moves its little arms to make it dance on the table*

The baby *stares at Michael*

Michael *stares back*

Michael didn’t really care who’s baby it was. He just stared at it. It was such a funny thing to find in an asylum and he just kept staring at it. But then, he thought about who would be irresponsible enough to leave a baby unattended in an asylum with cannibal clowns ? He hence took it upon himself to take the baby and protect it until the mother or caretaker would arrive…

The baby will be safe if given to Michael.

"Oh ! Nursy laid a child overnight ! Didn’t know your species could do that !" Penny joked as he found the baby.

He did have the craving to take a bite at first, but then he realised the baby was under your care. And as he does respect you to an extent, he decided to spare the child. Besides, the child wasn’t ripe enough for him…It wouldn’t be as nutritious as it would be if it were 4 or 5. He would hence say that he would wait until it is older. He would however observe it and smile at it or do funny faces at it when you’re not looking. He would also throw it in the air (giving you a small heart attack in the process) and giggle as he managed to successfully catch it each time.

The baby *crying his lungs out*

Pennywise: "Give it here."

You *suspicious* : "Why ?"

Pennywise : "Do you want it to sleep ? Give it."

You then witnessed Pennywise use his powers to sing the baby to sleep. Pennywise would lull the child to sleep by singing him a song. Pennywise is older than Penny and has hence a greater repertoire and remembers…everything. He would find a song to make the baby sleep and be extra gentle with it. Unlike Penny, Pennywise is much wiser and careful. He understands the fragility of a baby and would know best what to do with it, even more since Pennywise used to have 7 siblings growing up when he was still human. But, do not leave the kid unattended for too long with Pennywise because after all…old habits die hard and unlike Penny, Pennywise isn’t fussy about the food he eats.

"…Ew."

Patrick Bateman is NOT a baby person, he isn’t a person person on a regular basis, but babies ? They are the worse in his book.

Loud, dirty and can’t do business.

What are they even for ?

The only baby he would get along with would be boss baby. But since he is a character in a cartoon, they would never meet. So the very real baby will stay FAR away from him and he wouldn’t even touch it. He would mildly be interested if the baby is yours, but not a lot more…

You: "Jack. You were a father, right ?"

Jack: "Yeah. Why are you asking ?"

You *dump the baby in his arms*: "Here. I’ll be back in 5."

Jack *momentarily stunned and then calling after you.*: "Hey hey ! No ! Nurse Y/N ! Come back here !"

Jack finally sat down on a chair while the baby was just chilling in his arms and staring at him.

Jack *looks down at the baby and huffs* : "What are you looking at ?"

Him and the baby proceeded to chill all afternoon.

You *forgot the baby in a room*

The baby *chilling on a table and about to roll off said table*

Bo *uses his unexpectedly big brother superpowers and catches it before it falls and then looks down at it…wondering what the hell he just did and why*

The baby *giving him the most baby smile ever*

Him *smirks* : "Well…Ain’t you an absolute sunshine, huh lil’ ugly ?"

Also him *carries the baby to the garage* : "Don’t worry, uncle Bo’s gonna take good care of ya. Lemme show ya how to fix a car now."

Brahms would be happy to take care of it, but he would be clueless and would be afraid to hurt it. Brahms is strong and sometimes he doesn’t even realise how strong. He could involuntarily crush the child. So, he would just sit in front of it and be on guard duty. He would make sure no danger gets near the child and keep an eye on it until you are back. He would then ask if the baby could come back when it is a little older so they can become friends and play tag together.

Brahms *making puppy eyes at you and keeps asking when is the baby going to come back*

[redvexillum]

Will you ever write for Hazbin again?

Hello Annonie,

I know I've recently started talking about a different fandom and it's been a hot minute since I've last posted BUT it's cuz I want to write in advance before I start to post to give an illusion of a regular update schedule 🤣 just for you, here's a little sneak peek into my chaotic organization scheme (translation: nonexistence)

*clears throat and open my word document folder*

Disclaimer: these are all RAW as f♡ck, like salmonella risk. Please don't mind the grammatical/syntax errors! 😢

Caught Chapter 51 (Raw) Excerpt

Untitled ABO (Raw) Alastor x F!Reader Excerpt

Showstopper Chapter 6 (Raw) Alastor x F!Reader Excerpt [currently 18 chapters have been drafted]

Little Red Part 2 Alastor x F!Reader (Raw) Excerpt

Enchante Alastor x F!Reader Chapter 2 (Raw) Excerpt

Untitled Request #1 Alastor x F!Reader (Raw) Excerpt

Untitled Request #2 Alastor x F!Reader (Raw) Excerpt

Untitled Request #1 Vox x F!Reader (Raw) Excerpt

Now, these are all raws and the order of releases have not been planned. Currently I'm working on Showstopper (human!alastor x f!reader set in @redfoxwritesstuff Misdemeanour universe) and Your Boyfriend Fanfic (a gift for a dear friend of mine 🍑). Then I plan to tear through my request list in between updating Caught and Signal.

So TL;Dr, I am still very much entrenched in the Hazbin Hotel fandom. The f♡cking deer demon and TV demon has me by the b♡lls 💖

Thanks for giving me the opportunity to punt my raws out into the world and give an update for other readers mildly interested in my writing status, Lol! 🥰

[saintkunii]

PAIRING. Albedo x F! Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS. College Au, smut, some sneaky office sex, raw sex, crossposted on ao3

WC. 2.6k

SUMMARY: some sneaky sex with your department president.

MINORS DNI

Albedo sees your troubled look the moment you step foot inside the office, your brows furrowed, lips pulled in scorn while your hands clutch around a folder. You didn’t mean to slam the door behind you but it was enough indication for Albedo to know that you failed in your little search for your irresponsible treasurer who’s quick to ditch every meeting.

Still, he asked from his place behind the table, fingers atop the keyboard on rest. “No news?”

You sighed in exasperation and plopped down on the sofa intended for visitors. “That bastard can fucking go to hell-”

Strings of curses rolled off your tongue in practiced ease.

“Language,darling.”

“-I’ve been trying to contact him since earlier and I’ve been looking for him everywhere on campus,” you rattled on and on, complaining about your little adventure and quest to find the hidden boss. “My feet hurt!”

Albedo momentarily glances at your heeled shoes and frowns, “Why were you wearing heels? You knew we would be busy this week.”

He leans down pulling the drawer at the most bottom part open and takes out a pair of slippers that he uses sometimes. He rose to his feet and strode to your place.

“I know, I know, Albedo. But they were cute and it goes well with my skirt. What do you think?”

You crossed your legs to emphasize your pencil skirt, but it only managed to hike up to your thighs and expose your thigh high stockings, your smooth skin peaking through the bands. Albedo didn’t mean to stare as he kneels in front of you and sets the slippers by your feet, but the sight urges him for a touch. He looks away discreetly.

There was a momentary silence and you became greatly aware of your privacy in the room with Albedo, the slight hum of the air conditioning unit easily picked by your ears.

“What are you doing?” You raised a brow at him, embarrassed at the distance.

“I’m changing your shoes.” comes his reply with a soft smile. There was a slight mischievous twinkle in his eyes that went unnoticed by you. “You can use my slippers.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s okay, let me,”he insisted.

He unclasps your shoe starting from the right foot, hands warm against your stockings with the light friction tickling you. He carefully sets them aside before he turns to the other pair and repeats the process. There was a slight teasing in his touch as he lightly rubbed his fingers purposely on your calves, his eyes locked on your feet like he was devoted to his actions of removing said footwear and not riling you up.

As soon as he was done, he glanced up to you, eyes asking for permission with your stockings. You were quick to get the message and nodded uncharacteristically enthusiastic about his actions, thinking, after all, you can’t properly wear the slippers without removing them.

He mildly pries your knees open, just enough for him to dig his fingers inside your skirt and reach for the gartered band. Slowly, as if taking his time to roll off your stockings, his nails deliberately presses enough force against your skin that goes straight to your core. He does the same thing again to the other leg while you stay still watching him in silence, same lithe fingers brushing your skin. He slips the slippers to your feet individually and stands up patting off nonexistent dust.

Albedo then extends his left hand to you.

“Hand me the request form. I’ll sign it on his behalf.”

That- What was that? There was a bit of disappointment in you but you pretend as if it didn’t affect you that much. Sneakily though, you took a quick peek of his pants and saw the slight bulge while passing the folder to him.

“Here.”

Albedo takes the seat next to you, sofa dipping at his weight. Using the coffee table, he pulls out his extra pen he keeps in his breast pocket and signs the documents swiftly and stacks them back again before placing them aside. Your eyes never left his hands, seeing every roll and twist of his joints and muscles, stares boring holes in the back of them.

“What?” He turns to you in amusement as he stores his pen, quick to notice your actions.

You shake your head hastily. “Nothing.”

It’s not nothing though. It’s your hormones wanting more of his touch.

You heard him chuckle lightly and sigh shortly after, exhaustion quite apparent in his face.

“Come here,” he says, patting his lap. You rose to your feet as he held your wrist to guide you to his lap.

Albedo wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head in the crevice of your neck, inhaling a deep breath and exhales. His tense muscles relax a bit, now that he has you like this in his arms.

“What’s gotten into you?” You ask, gingerly combing his hair with your fingers. It tickles a bit against your cheeks.

“I miss you,” his voice is soft, a whisper against your skin, and you feel the slight tremor of his voice.

“Stressed?”

He hummed. “That too. It’s not easy to pull this event together.”

A rare moment of vulnerability from your boyfriend who seemed to always have it together. The tone of his voice is as if he’s asking to be spoiled. He’s often so strict and serious so you relish moments like this.

You reply to him by nodding while grinding your hips down his growing bulge.

Albedo inhaled sharply, his grip on you getting tight as he kept himself from thrusting up. The hand on your waist snakes down to your thigh as he planted a soft kiss on your neck.

“Care to help your boyfriend out?”

Twisting your neck to his direction, you grinned widely. “Thought you’d never ask. We should wrap this all up so we can go back to the dorms.”

You rose to your feet, intending to go to your table and finish up all the paperworks, but when he didn’t even bulge, you looked back to him and see the way he looks at you with hooded gaze, lips tugged into a suggestive smile that you shivered slightly at his intense eyes.

Realization dawns on you and you mouthed an ‘o’, heat warming up your cheeks.

“Here?” you questioned, thoughts running about the possibility of getting caught having sex in the student council office. You admit, that was definitely something you’ve considered in your head. A little guilty that you can’t help yourself about wanting to take Albedo right then and there every time he exhibits what authority he has in your meetings.

It’s an exciting thought, to watch someone as calm and composed as Albedo fall apart, to know that he’s just as driven in desire as much as you whenever you’re present.

“Why not? I heard you talking with your law friend.”

The revelation made your jaw drop and you felt embarrassed as the memory of your small talk with your friend returned. Descriptive scenarios left your mouth then, of how you wanted to be held in the office with your legs on his shoulders or the guilty desires you have of your stern looking partner sucking him off under the desk, reduced to a puddle of pleasure. You didn’t expect him to overhear them. And you certainly did not expect that he would be open to the idea as well.

You stood closer to the edge of the couch, standing in between his legs while his palms claim post on the curve of your waist, rubbing affectionately and in invitation. There was slight hesitation in your features that was slowly crumbling at Albedo’s reassuring gaze. You lay one hand on his shoulder and the other on his hand to stop his actions.

“What if someone comes in?” you mumbled although your mind was already half ready, your core throbbing in excitement.

“We’ll be done before anyone does. There’s only a few students left on campus so there’s only a slim chance of anyone walking in on us.” He kisses your hand and ushers you back to his lap again. “So, what do you say?”

Your reply comes in a roll of your hips as you straddle him once again, your pencil skirt riding up your thighs, drenched underwear exposed for him to see. He latches onto your thighs with an amused smile.

With a shy nod, you inched closer for a kiss, mouth hungrily catching his while satisfied hum escaped your lips. It’s desperate. It’s exciting. The moment his tongue touches yours, you hear him moan which prompted you to move your hips once more, wanting to feel more of that excitement building below.

It’s driving you mad. The last bits of your rationality leaving you at every nip of Albedo’s teeth on your lips and every suck to your tongue. Whoever said Albedo looks too disciplined and boring to even know how to give a proper kiss haven’t witnessed the ferocity of the man driven by his desire and how you’re one lucky person to experience it firsthand.

Albedo’s hand wanders upward, pressing a finger to your clothed cunt, your arousal sipping through. Your thighs clenched under his hold and a whimper of his name echoed in the office.

“Albedo…”

You’re growing impatient. You push your cunt against his hand, wanting that touch you’re so familiar with. Albedo teased you by swiping your clit through your damp underwear, toying with your core and pressing it until you’re huffing and panting in obvious need. His teeth digs into your throat and he sucks into your skin, careful not to leave a bruise. He couldn’t keep himself from wanting to leave a mark, but knowing you’d be mad if he does so, he holds back a little. It feels a little prickly but the pain sets you on edge as you gulp and grind down.

Albedo unbuttons your shirt just enough for him to slip your bra down and release your boobs. Having set his eyes on your nipples, he takes it into his warm mouth and sucks the bud, alternating between licking and sucking. You caught your breath in your throat and mewl at the sensation, heat pooling in your core and dripping with need. Your chest heaves up and down under his ministration.

“Put it in, please.” you whine, frustrated at his teasing.

You reach for the metal band of his belt keeping his pants. A bit too hasty in removing them. You drew back, giving room for him to pull down his pants and let his rigid erection free. While he’s at it, you take the time to slip your panties off to the side before you return to your position with your hand on his shoulders for stability. He nudges the flaring tip of his erection to your weeping entrance, and slowly, you sink into his cock, taking him in carefully.

Albedo swallows your cry of his name, cradling your neck as he kisses you roughly and full of eagerness, teeth clashed with teeth, hot breaths mixing in and fanning your face. You feel so completely filled as he sheathes himself inside you, length throbbing in the warmth of your fluttering cunt sucking him in.

You keep still, tongue slipping into his mouth with your sighs of relief bouncing off the walls.

You moaned as you moved your hips, rocking up and down his lap at a growing pace. Albedo leans into the couch and watches you bounce into his cock, so wet and warm that he twitches at the wanton display of your boobs bobbing at the motions. Every wet slap of your skin into his lap, your pussy squelching with your clasp, it’s punctuated by the high pitched mewls leaving your lips.

Albedo keeps you steady with a grip on your waist and chases after you with a buck of his hips. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his hard length keeps bumping into your sweet spot, slipping almost to the entrance of your cervix. With a grunt, he keeps a steady pace to fuck into you.

Your breath quickened and you squeaked, moaning and crying at the pleasure, tears forming in your eyes as you eagerly matched his frenzied pace.

Your climax lingers, your head feeling lighter. Albedo coaxes you into your release until white light pokes through your sight and the knot comes undone. You spasmed helplessly, calling out to albedo with a whine.

“Not yet.” he growls low into your neck and lays you to your back as he sensually rocks his hips to and fro, assaulting you through your high with fervor. He lifts your legs up and prompts you to wrap it around his waist while he presses his lips on you once more.

Your ankles cross behind him as it digs into his back pressing his hips impossibly closer to you. He surges forward deeply with what space he can maneuver with and steadily sheathes himself into you with fluid motions. Your back arch into him as your jaw hangs open, overly stimulated all over your senses. His name spills from your lips in an endless stream.

Your entrance is rimmed with the white coat of your juice as his cock sinks into you. His body jerks and his hot fluid of semen spurts into your insides as he grunts into your ear and huskily calls out your name. Your tight walls milk him till you’re filled to the brim with a few more rolls of his hips.

Albedo nuzzles into you and pecks at your neck, breathing heavily against your twitching form, his pants are hot against your skin. His erratic heartbeat falls into its normal rhythm. It made you shudder. Your limbs grow limp in exhaustion.

“That was nice.”

You broke the silence, giggling as Albedo pushes himself up and grabs the box of tissue to clean you up. He chuckles as he wipes at your leg and takes care of himself as well, carefully tucking his shirt back and fixing his pants.

“We should do this again next time,” he says with a teasing smile and you blush, furiously shaking your head.

“No way. We were lucky this time no one was here.”

As if on cue, you hear feet shuffling past the door and voices growing closer to your office. You shoot up and brush your tousled hair and straighten your blouse, buttoning them back with haste.

“Damn, speak of the devil.” You frantically pull down your skirt. “Ah, Albedo. My panties. It’s by your feet.”

He leans to pick it up and looks at the item in his hand but before he can give it to you, the door bursts open and kaeya strides in with a takeout box. You see Albedo shoving your underwear into his pocket and steps aside for the newcomers.

“Ohh. Pres I’ve figured you’d be here and I see, our precious vice president is also here. We brought you guys dinner. Knowing Albedo, he’d still be nose deep into the preparations.” Kaeya sets the takeout on top of the table and takes a seat. Jean is right behind him, also bringing some drinks.

you can’t help but blush knowing what just transpired in the room, embarrassment fills you up, unable to look at any of them in the eye like Albedo does.

He’s quick to act casual and nonchalant.

“Well, how thoughtful of you.”

The two of you look at each other, silently amused at your own dirty little secret.

[transmutationisms]

do you feel like SSRIs are mostly pseudoscience? I'm not sure if I should be open to trying them or avoid them at all costs since I'm not sure if they even work or if they will mess me up permanently

a preliminary note that i don't find the category 'pseudoscience' to be useful & would classify SSRI research more as 'methodologically shoddy science' or 'ideologically slanted' or 'part of a centuries-long effort on the part of psychiatrists to secure themselves professional prestige by claiming neurobiological etiologies where none are shown to exist' &c &c. imo the notion of 'pseudoscience' is itself pretty positivistic, ahistorical, and ideologically noxious (particularly apparent in any analysis of epistemological imperialism).

that aside: you raise two major issues with SSRIs, namely whether they work and whether they will cause you harm.

efficacy of SSRIs is contested. a 2010 meta-analysis found that in patients with mild or moderate depressive symptoms, the efficacy of SSRIs "may be minimal or nonexistent", whilst "for patients with very severe depression, the benefit of medications over placebo is substantial". a 2008 meta-analysis found a similar distinction between mildly vs severely depressed patients, but noted that even in the latter population, drug–placebo differences were "relatively small" and argued that the differences between drug and placebo in severely depressed patients "seems to result from a poorer response to placebo amongst more depressed patients" rather than from a greater efficacy of SSRIs. a 2012 meta-analysis found some SSRIs consistently effective over placebo treatments, but several authors disclosed major relationships with pharmaceutical companies. a 2017 meta-analysis concluded that "SSRIs might have statistically significant effects on depressive symptoms, but all trials were at high risk of bias and the clinical significance seems questionable" (emphasis added) and that "potential small beneficial effects seem to be outweighed by harmful effects".

when evaluating any of this evidence, it is crucial to keep in mind that studies on antidepressant trials are selectively published—that is, they are less likely to be published if they show negative results!

A total of 37 studies viewed by the FDA as having positive results were published; 1 study viewed as positive was not published. Studies viewed by the FDA as having negative or questionable results were, with 3 exceptions, either not published (22 studies) or published in a way that, in our opinion, conveyed a positive outcome (11 studies). According to the published literature, it appeared that 94% of the trials conducted were positive. By contrast, the FDA analysis showed that 51% were positive.

meta-analyses are not immune to this issue, either. in addition to the problem that a meta-analysis of a bunch of bad studies cannot magically 'cancel out' the effects of poor study design, the authors of meta-analyses can and do also have financial interests and ties to pharmaceutical companies, and this affects their results just as it does the results of the studies they are studying. according to a 2016 analysis of antidepressant meta-analyses,

Fifty-four meta-analyses (29%) had authors who were employees of the assessed drug manufacturer, and 147 (79%) had some industry link (sponsorship or authors who were industry employees and/or had conflicts of interest). Only 58 meta-analyses (31%) had negative statements in the concluding statement of the abstract. Meta-analyses including an author who were employees of the manufacturer of the assessed drug were 22-fold less likely to have negative statements about the drug than other meta-analyses [1/54 (2%) vs. 57/131 (44%); P < 0.001]. [...] There is a massive production of meta-analyses of antidepressants for depression authored by or linked to the industry, and they almost never report any caveats about antidepressants in their abstracts. Our findings add a note of caution for meta-analyses with ties to the manufacturers of the assessed products.

so, do SSRIs work? they are certainly psychoactive substances, which is to say, they do something. whether that something reduces depressive symptoms is simply not known at this point, though it is always worth keeping in mind that the 'chemical imbalance' narrative of SSRIs (the idea that they work by 'curing' a 'serotonin deficiency' in the brain) has always been a profitable myth. look, any medical treatment throughout history has been vouched for by SOME patients who report that it helped them—no matter how wacky it sounds or how little evidence there was to support it. this can be for a lot of reasons: placebo effect, the remedy accidentally treating a different problem than it was intended for, the symptoms coincidentally resolving on their own. sometimes the human body is just weird and unpredictable. sometimes remedies work. i'm sorry i can't give you a more definitive answer about whether SSRIs would help you.

as to potential risks: these are significant. SSRIs can precipitate suicidal ideation, a risk that has been consistently downplayed by pharmaceutical companies and studies. SSRIs are also known to contribute to sexual dysfunction and dissatisfaction, again a risk that is minimised and downplayed in much of the literature and in physician communication with patients. further (known) side effects range through emotional blunting, glaucoma, QT interval prolongation, abnormal bleeding & interaction with anti-coagulents, platelet dysfunction, decreases in bone mineral density leading to increased risk of osteopenia and osteoporosis, jaw clenching / TMJ pain, risk of serotonin syndrome when used in conjunction with other serotonergic substances, dizziness, insomnia, headaches, the list goes on.

i don't mean to sound alarmist; all drugs have side effects, some of the ones above occur rarely, and you may very well decide the risk is acceptable to you to take on. i would, though, always encourage you to do thorough research into potential side effects before starting any drug, including an SSRI. more on SSRI side effects in david healy's books 'pharmageddon', 'let them eat prozac', 'the antidepressant era', and 'the creation of psychopharmacology'; 'pillaged' by ronald w maris; and 'the myth of the chemical cure' by joanna moncrieff.

in addition to the above, SSRIs are known to come with a risk of 'discontinuation syndrome'—that is, chemical withdrawal when stopping the drug. this, too, is often downplayed by physicians; many still deny that it can even happen. some patients don't experience it at all, though i can tell you purely anecdotally that SSRI withdrawal was so miserable for me i simply gave up on quitting for over a year, despite the fact that at that point i was already thoroughly experienced with chemical withdrawals from other, 'harder' drugs. again, i am not telling you not to go on SSRIs if you decide these risks are worth it to you! i simply think this is a decision that should always be made with full knowledge (indeed, this is a core, though routinely violated, principle of medical 'informed consent').

ultimately this is not a decision anyone should make for you; it's your body and mind that are at stake here. as always i think that anyone considering any kind of medical treatment should have full knowledge about it and should be making all decisions freely and autonomously. i am genuinely not pushing any agenda 'for' or 'against' SSRIs, only against prescription of them that is done carelessly, coercively, or without fully informing patients of what risks they're taking on and what benefits they can hope to see.

[imagine-silk]

Fallout characters reacting to Sole who (with the Ghoulish/Solar Powered Perks) are practically immune to all radiation, and maybe that perhaps they learn this when they step in apprehensively into the Glowing Sea with them and notice they don't need a rad suit or anything to fight those rads? (Thank you for what you do!!)

》It's such a big flex out in the wasteland. Imagine the world's biggest threat not applying to you.

【Cait】 "Ya eat lead too?"

She doesn't believe you until you're walking around the Glowing Sea unfazed. Is she jealous? Yes. Is she going to make that your problem? Not really. Other than demanding chems to get rid of the problem she keeps on going. The faster you are the faster you leave.

【Codsworth】 "Oh! That's new."

You weren't like that before. Not that he's complaining, any advantage you have is fully condoned by him. As long as you're alright he has no issue with it. Besides, he likes the fact he's also not effected by it so he can go with you in these places.

【Curie】 "Marvelous!"

She immediately starts identifying why you are like this and reinforces her body accordingly. She will do further test just to be sure she's right but other than that she won't ask much.

【Danse】 "Good thing I have power armor."

Unlike most synths, his resistance to radiation is nonexistent. He was made to blend in with the masses. But he kept his armor/ got a new armor and there's always rad-away.

【Deacon】 "I can do that too."

He can't, but he hides it very well. You won't see the symptoms of radiation poisoning so whether or not you believe him is up to you. He will complain about the green everywhere though.

【Hancock】 "How come you get to keep your smooth skin? I feel cheated."

It's all in good fun. He knows if he stays in radiation too long he'll go feral but he does like the idea he can tolerate it more than any of your human companions. Might even stick his tongue out at them as you leave with him.

【MacCready】 "You wanna share that superpower with me?"

He's annoyed to put it mildly. Why did you ask him to come out with you to the waking sea? Just wanna show off? He still needs to take rad-away and radX. Next time take someone who can go into radiation no problem. He says all that but will always follow you into the Glowing Sea.

【Nick】 "That's one less thing to worry about."

He constantly worries over your well-being. You need to do so much he doesn't; eat, sleep, and drink to name a few. He decides not to question the development because he doesn't want to jinx it, like if he found out it would be taken away.

【Piper】 "And here I thought vault dwellers would shrivel up and die at the color green."

She laughs at the idea more than she asks questions about why you're like that. She figures you just got tolerate over time on the surface. That being said, she tells Nat and immediately starts a rumor you were some sort of superhero before the bombs.

【Preston】 "I can't imagine what happened that allowed you to do that."

He's relieved, impressed, and tired all at the same time. At some point he just learned you're going to defy every rule he knows and to let it go when that happens. Would it be nice to have your plot convenience? Yes. Will he ever tell you that? No.

【X6-88】 "It is assuring you can handle this endeavor."

He was made to handle the surface, radiation has no effect on him. Not that he would like to test it or spend any unnecessary time in the Glowing Sea.

【Travis Miles】 "You kind of seem impossible. I-I mean that as a good thing."

After everything he's seen of you he can't imagine anything could kill you, radiation included. Still there is a fine line between impressing him and scaring him and you seem to use that line like a God damn jump rope.

[eldritch-spouse]

Oughh, for a second, I lost your account, and I was so sad because I love your world and oc's so much!!

Okay so I read again the Morell and Nebul interchanging pets for a day, and it made me curious.

Would they actually trust each other to babysit each other's obsessions for long spans of time? Would they ever schedule some kind of "play dates " for their humans, as a treat, maybe?- 🪶🍵

[Howdy! Thenk you and welcome back. :7]

[Ooough I had to go back and fetch context for that one.]

Likely not long spans of time.

Nebul knows that he can trust a properly trained obsession in the hands of one of his coworkers for a short span of time, because they're already trained to a fine level and can behave without provoking any sort of unfortunate incident. However, the longer he leaves his pearl in another's hands, the higher the probability of disaster is- He just doesn't perceive his coworkers as being able to properly care for or discipline you.

Morell's biggest fear is that Nebul will poke around your brain too much and that you'll come back to him an empty shell of your former self. To the point where he'll sometimes ask you everything you did with the wraith, just to try and make sure that no memories were eaten in his absence. So no, the chef naturally doesn't want you around Nebul for too long.

Play dates can happen, following a short evaluation of how stable both of you are. Both monsters agree that this should be a reward for good behavior, or otherwise utilized as a means to normalize the situation to one or both of you. Purpur, Turnip, Alfredo and Pepper may be involved. While Nebul is more partial that these get-togethers happen in his shop and Morell prefers them in the restaurant space, both have agreed that maybe the garden works well enough.

It's got scenery and enriching wildlife (very not-normal wildlife).

Likely not.

He wants your online presence to be as diminished as possible, ideally nonexistent.

Nebul will allow you to submit verified scores in competitions, but he holds all the information of your every account and never allows you to stream anything or interact with anyone.

Offline games are at your disposal if you happen to showcase good behavior. He particularly finds it amusing how you torture yourself with souls games. Beneath all that sweltering rage that nearly has you smashing controllers, there's an undercurrent of satisfaction that keeps you going.

He usually swoops in when you're defeated and sulking about it.

[Hawhawhawhaw-]

To be fair, Xiko himself is mildly embarrassed.

He usually plans what he deems to be his. Because it's kind of humiliating to chase after something he can't physically attain, isn't it? Kind of like holding a stick with a carrot in front of a pig. Except that pig is aware of what's happening, and can't do anything to stop the chase.

Here, Xiko didn't get to decide that you would be his over a decent period of time where he determines it's plausible to obtain you. No, he just saw you, listened to his urges, and paid for it via being forced to sprint after you until he can steal some poor sap's car and turn this into a news-worthy story.

He's angry at himself as he burns his own undead leg muscles with the rabid urge to reach you, he's furious! But the process cannot be stopped. And he will have you.

Honestly, he understands he looks scary to the average human -Even some demons find him gnarly- But if you crash and end up dying because of this, he's going to be so mad Xiko might actually reach into his mouth and pull his eyes out.

[Pip? 😭]

Make no mistake, once a certain level of efficiency is reached, you are effectively a glorified lap cat.

Cuddling is used many times as a subtle way to reinforce certain responses, without you even knowing. Nebul conditions you such so that you'll seek cuddling him even after he does something traumatic to you- Because even if he's the one that hurt you, you have already been trained to believe that he's also the only one that can comfort you.

While to you it might be nothing more than a relaxation session, the wraith is constantly testing how you respond to certain touches. How easily do you lean into him? How much do you fidget? Do you lean away? Do you seek his hand after he removes it? How bold are you in the way you position yourself? Are you relaxed enough to miss certain gestures? Yes, Nebul is enjoying himself too, but he's still evaluating you.

Cuddling is used a lot during the process of training you precisely because Nebul notices that you respond so intensively to it.

[seokjinsonlyone]

build a bridge

pairing: yoongi x f! reader

summary: “God, sometimes I’m happy when you go off on me because at least then I know what you’re thinking.”

genre: co-parents to lovers; angst; fluff

rating: pg

warnings: brief mention of general/postpartum depression other than that it’s just the fact that yoongi’s a DAD!!!! CERTIFIED DILF!!!!!!

wc: 3.2k

You heard a muffled, “Guess who’s here?” then the sound of small footsteps pattering towards the door. After a few more seconds of shuffling it opened and your daughter all but flung herself on you. 

“Mama!” 

“Luna!” You opened your arms wide, expecting the tackle she always greets you with when you pick her up from her father’s. You pepper kisses all across her cheeks, heart melting at the way she giggles in your embrace. “Hey, baby. Did you have a good time with daddy?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around your neck, snuggling into you further.

“I missed you.”

She pulled back, lightly grasping your cheeks and pressing her own mildly slobbery kisses to your face. “I missed you.”

Before you could get overly emotional, her father cleared his throat reminding you two that you weren’t alone. You plastered a fake smile on your lips. “Hey Yoongi.”

He nodded back at you, lips pressed in a straight line.

“Do you have her stuff ready to go?”

“Uhhh… just about. Time got away from us a little bit. You want to step inside while I finish packing her up?” he asked, gesturing for you to come in.

You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips as you entered his house. You don’t understand why he couldn’t just have her things ready to go. Whenever it was his turn to pick her up, you always had everything ready and waiting for him. Your goodbyes may have been a little long and drawn out, but once he was able to pry you two apart it was quick and easy. “Luna, baby, why don’t you show me some of your toys while daddy gets the rest of your stuff?” you suggested, setting her down and letting her guide you into the living room.

Her eyes lit up at the request, light bulb going off in her little toddler brain, rushing to the corner to find whatever item your statement sparked. 

It was then that you noticed her outfit. You rolled your eyes at the shirt he donned your daughter in—bright pink, with sparkly gold lettering reading “Daddy’s Little Girl.” It was gaudy and definitely not something you bought for her, but she looked cute anyway. She always did. She had half of your DNA, why wouldn’t she? You shook it off. You know he only did things like that to get under your skin, as if he needed to put in any extra effort for that. 

Your eyes roamed around the room, inspecting the interior. A nice sleek, modern yet homey design only interrupted by the sight of dolls and cars spread over the floor. He had good taste. You paused looking over the mantle where he had a few photos displayed. Your eyebrows shot to your forehead, realizing that the one stationed in the very middle was of you and your daughter from when she was about two months old and just started smiling. Your lips were pressed to her cheek and she had a big, toothless baby grin that was nearly identical to your own spread across her face. You knew the photo well seeing as it’d been your lockscreen pretty much ever since he snapped it. 

Your inspection was cut short by your daughter calling out to you. “Look at my tabby, mama!”

“Huh?” Your brows furrowed in confusion. Your daughter’s speech was pretty good. And what she lacked in vocabulary and pronunciation you usually made up for on account of you being fluent in Luna, but you’d never heard her speak of a ‘tabby’ before. All confusion was cleared up, however, when you turned around and saw the tablet in her hands. You were already irritated, but now you were pissed.

“My tabby.”

“Oh wow,” you said, feigning enthusiasm. “When’d you get this?”

“Daddy got it for me,” she replied. That didn’t really answer the question, but you didn’t think she would. As a three year old, her concept of time was all but nonexistent. He must’ve just gotten it for her, though or you would’ve heard about it long ago. One thing your child did was talk. She began flipping through the apps, showing you each one, and you wanted to give her your full attention. You really did, but inside you were seething.

Yoongi came out holding both of her bags just in time to feel your wrath. You stood abruptly cutting Luna off. “Really, Yoongi? A tablet?”

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. You know I didn’t want her having one of these. Not at this age.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” you snapped back. “You know what? Never mind,” You snatched her bags from his hand ready to just leave. You could feel yourself getting worked up by the second and you did not want to traumatize your child by having her watch her parents argue in front of her. “Come on, Luna. Put that down, it's time to go.”

“I bring my tabby with me.”

You stooped down to her level. “No. You’re leaving it here. Go put it back. It’s time to go home.”

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes as hers filled with tears and soon after she burst into sobs. You counted to five in your head, willing yourself to exercise the last bit of patience you had. “Miss Luna,” you said sternly, forcing her attention to you. “We’ve talked about this. Babies cry because they don’t know how to talk. But, you know how to talk. Are you a baby or a big girl?”

“A- a big girl,” she sniffled, sobs dying down a bit.

“Okay. So you need to calm down. Come on. Take some deep breaths with me. In,” you inhaled deeply, “and out,” you exhaled. You did it a few more times, Luna following suit until she was calm again. You wiped the tears from under her eyes. “Now talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I want my tabby,” she pouted, looking like she was about to get teary again.

“You know that you have some toys that stay at mama’s house and some toys that stay at daddy’s house. The tablet stays at daddy’s house. You can’t bring it with you.”

“It’s fine. Just let her take it,” Yoongi piped up.

You turned to him with fire in your eyes. “Can I talk to you in the kitchen?” He sighed, slumping his way to the area, while you brought your attention back to your child. “Luna. Go put your dolls and your cars back where they belong, then you can play with the tablet until mama finishes talking to daddy, okay?”

She nodded, happy to have reached some sort of middle ground, and did as you said, and you all but stomped into the kitchen. “I hate it when you do that,” you fired immediately. 

He rubbed his hand down his face, looking like he was already over it. “What did I do now?”

“Yoongi,” you stressed, “I’m sitting over here telling her that she can’t bring it with her, and then you telling her that she can. How does that make me look? Who is she supposed to decide who to listen to? What are you gonna do when she doesn’t listen to either one of us? Stop undermining my authority.”

“I’m not trying to undermine your authority, but you’re making a big deal out of nothing. I don’t see why you’re so against the tablet in the first place.”

“She’s only three, Yoongi! What does she need to be on the internet for? There is so much out there that she absolutely does not need to be exposed to. And on top of that she doesn’t need the constant stimulation. You know she already has a predisposition to ADHD. Do you even monitor her when she’s using it?”

“She’s only three, __! Of course I monitor her. And for the record. I hate when you do that.”

“Me?” You pointed back at yourself, raising your eyebrows incredulously. “What did I do?”

He leaned back against the cabinets and ran his hand through his hair, trying to maintain his calm exterior but you’ve obviously ticked him off. “You bottle everything up! I know that in your head Luna is just your daughter, but I’m sorry she’s not! She’s mine, too. I’ve mentioned getting her one of those things several times, and the only thing you’ve ever said was ‘I don’t think that’s a great idea,’ and then you would switch subjects. I respect you as her mother, but I’m not just going to blindly accept everything you say. How was I supposed to know you felt this way about it if you never told me? I can’t read your mind, __. And, you always do this. God, sometimes I’m happy when you go off on me because at least then I know what you’re thinking.”

The anger dissipated from your body with every sentence he spoke and by the time he finished speaking, your lips began to wobble. Yoongi watched as your eyes slowly filled with tears and the only thing he could think of before they broke loose was how eerily similar to your daughter you looked. The same expression having crossed her face not ten minutes ago. He sighed, pulling you into his chest much in the same manner that he would do her as well. 

You allowed yourself the comfort of his touch for all of thirty seconds before stepping back and wiping at your eyes, ridding them of the few tears that slipped out. You turned around peeking past the wall, making sure your daughter was still occupied. She was. Dolls successfully put away as you told her, while she sat tapping away on the tablet.

Unfortunately there weren’t many other things you could do to stall for time. You had no other option but to turn around and face the truth. “You’re right,” you conceded, ripping the band aid off. You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t want to argue with him, but you were just so passionate about anything concerning your daughter that you let your emotions get the best of you more often than not.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, and I’m not just trying to win an argument, you know?”

You nodded, bottom lip tucked between your teeth, even though you didn’t know, not really.

“Can we sit?”

You nodded again, taking the seat adjacent to him.

“___, you know I don’t do things to intentionally piss you off, right?”

“Except when you put her in shirts that say ‘Daddy’s Little Girl,’” you pointed out, trying to lighten the mood. You hadn’t had a heart to heart with him in god knows how long. Hadn’t been in this proximity to him in even longer.

He rolled his eyes in return. “Well, yeah. That’s like the one thing. I like the way your eye twitches whenever you notice it.”

You breathed out a laugh. “My eye does not twitch.”

“It does. Your eye twitches, you stare for like two minutes, then give me one of those exasperated sighs. But, that’s not what we’re talking about. I’m being serious.”

“Look,” you exhaled shakily, “I’m sorry for snapping at you and for not communicating effectively. I–“

“I already told you I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I just– I really hate the way our relationship is now. When Luna was first born, we agreed that we would do this together. Now I feel like I can’t even talk to you anymore. The only reason I even got her the thing was because I felt bad for her.”

“Why?”

“She was, like, inconsolable a couple days ago because she wanted you so bad. Poor thing cried herself to sleep and everything. The next day she was still sad, so I took her to the store, and we picked it out. That was the only thing that got her to stop crying over you.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve came and gotten her.”

“I didn’t want my time cut short, and I didn’t want you to think that I couldn’t handle her,” he admitted softly. “I want you to trust me with her.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Yoongi,” you called with your stern voice and waited until he made eye contact with you. “You’re her father. Of course I trust you with her. If I didn’t, I would’ve taken you to court and you’d be seeing her every other weekend at best. I know I can be overbearing, but it’s only because I’m scared,” you replied, slipping out a confession of your own. 

He reached out, covering your hand with his own. “Scared of what?”

“Everything? I’ve spent the last three years terrified. She’s my whole world. I don’t know what I would do without her. I wish you would’ve called me when she was throwing her tantrum because all I do when she’s away from me is worry and wonder and wait until I can see her again.”

He tutted. “See. This is what I mean. Luna wanted you. You wanted her. I wanted to call you, but I didn’t. Because of what?”

“Because of me.” You felt yourself getting worked up again, tear ducts beginning to well up. “You said it yourself. I bottle everything up. I push people away. I pushed you away, and we were supposed to be in this together. All I want for our daughter is for her to have the best life possible, yet I’m the one ruining it.”

“Hey, now. Cut the crap,” he deadpanned, cutting your spiral session short and scooting closer to you. “You’re not ruining anything. You’re the best mother that–“

“Mama?” you hear a little voice call, followed by small footsteps pitter pattering, and a few seconds later your daughter came rounding around the corner.

You quickly swiped at your eyes. “Yeah, baby?”

She handed her tablet to Yoongi, before turning back to you, lifting her hands up so you could hold her. She gripped your face in her little hands. “You sad?”

“Yeah, mommy’s a little sad,” you answered honestly. You always tried to treat her like a human. You wanted her to know it was okay to show emotions, and that you were human just like everyone else. You weren’t a superhero, just someone who loved her very very much. 

She pressed big, sloppy kisses on each of your cheeks then laid her head down on you, putting you in a position very similar to when you first entered the door, except then you wanted nothing more than to leave and now you found your brain cycling through reasons you should stay. “Feel better now?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you very much.”

At your confirmation, she wriggled out of your lap and into Yoongi’s reclaiming the device and continuing her game. Your heart melted as you looked at them, really looked at them together for the first time in a while. She really was a good mixture of you both. Your face shape and lips, curl pattern at least a standard deviation looser than your own but flowing wild and free nonetheless, his cute button nose and crescent shaped eyes. She was absolutely adorable, they were adorable together. You sighed heavily, suddenly nostalgic over all the time you missed together. “I’m sorry. It really is all my fault.”

“I told you to cut it out,” he said seriously, eyes focused on whatever your daughter was doing.

“No, really, Yoongi. I wasn’t okay for a long time after she was born.” He grimaced, likely remembering the time period after your daughter was born. Postpartum depression transitioned into general depression and for a while you found yourself just floating through life, unable to find a balance between being a human and being a mother. It was rough. He tried to help you so many times but more often than not he just bore the brunt of your emotional instability. “By the time I finally got some help, there was so much time and space between us. I just… I had to go.”

He squeezed Luna a little tighter. “I wished you didn’t. I hope you know that.”

You bit your lip. “I do. You tried to get me to stay, but my mind was already made up.” You weren’t quite sure if it was the right decision, but you know that you definitely feel more stable now than you did then. Although today had been proving that your road to recovery had not been fully traveled. 

“What about now?”

“What do you mean?”

He locked his eyes on yours. “Is your mind still made up? Because I love you.” Your breath hitched. “I’ve loved you for a really long time, and I think my biggest regret out of everything was not telling you that sooner.”

“Yoongi I-I…” You were at a complete loss for words.

“I know there’s a ton of time and space between us, but I’ll build a bridge and we can walk across it together.”

You wished Luna was in your arms at that moment. She was your excuse, your scapegoat. Whenever you felt uncomfortable or vulnerable you’d just hug her to you and give her all your attention until whatever it was went away. You suppose it’s a good thing she’s not seeing as it was that mentality that got you here in the first place. You had to stand on your own two feet now. Easier said than done. Your mouth opened and closed a few more times, still no words being formed. 

“Baby, go play in your room for a bit,” Yoongi told your daughter, then placed her on the ground, keeping hold of the tablet. She reached for it, but he held it at bay.

“Daddy,” she whined.

“Nuh-uh. I think we’ve had enough playtime on this today. Room. Now.”

He ticked his head to the side and she stomped away, rolling her little eyes, which would be a topic of discussion sooner rather than later. For now though, you focused on trying to process the fact that Yoongi was in love with you.

“C’mere.”

You stood wide-eyed and allowed him to pull you into his lap. You were stock still as he wrapped his arms around your middle and pressed his face into your neck simply breathing you in. “Yoongi…”

“Shhh… Just let me hold you for a little.” And he did. Until you completely relaxed into his embrace. It was a lot. It’d been nearly two years since you were this intimate with him and anybody else for that matter. “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t want to take more than you’re willing to give.”

You sighed. “You’re a good man, Yoongi. A great father. I care about you, but you deserve more than I have to offer.”

“I don’t want any more than that. The only thing I want is a chance. Let me be there for you. Not just because you’re the mother of my daughter but because you’re you, and I love you.” You inhaled sharply at his admission once again. He smiled into your neck. “Will you let me be there for you? Can you do that?”

It was nerve wracking to open your heart up again, but honestly you weren’t sure if you ever took it back from him in the first place; so, you shakily brought your hands up to cover his that were around your waist, interlocking your fingers together. “I can do that.”

[cakerybakery]

I’ve been searching for music for another project but I heard this song again and instantly thought of this scene

- title: Top Shelf Confessions

A lounge wasn’t somewhere Adam would normally go but it was Husker’s turn to plan the group outing. And while he was out on the casino floor gambling away the nonexistent shirt off his back, with Angel Dust on his arm for good luck, there wasn’t much else to do in this place that interested Adam.

It wasn’t like the group stuck together either. As soon as they passed a poster for the big show for that night Charlie had lit up, grabbed Vaggie and insisted they had to watch the casino’s big giant floor show. “They have dancers! And musical numbers! And it’s got acrobats! And we have to gooooo! Please Vaggie?”

‘Of course Vaggie would agree.’ Adam thought some rather vulgar thoughts about the two and why exactly Vag-gie would agree to whatever the little princess wanted.

On occasion he caught sight of the little maid. She was having the time of her life, scuttling after the little bugs that thrived in the debauchery and darkness of the corners of this center of sin.

Adam lost track of Alastor the second they walked through the door and couldn’t tell if he was skulking around in the corners with the other creepy crawlies or just left them all here.

The only one he couldn’t shake was the only one he really wanted to. Lucifer sat in the half circle booth with him. VIP section, so it wasn’t all bad. Adam just wasn’t use to being the entourage instead of the VIP.

Adam was still on his first drink. It was virgin, which Adam had bristled at and nearly started shit with Lucifer over, except the waitress had confirmed their order and Adam’s drink as being without alcohol. So Adam opted to pretend he’d known that the whole time.

Lucifer slipped the waitress a large bill and told him, "for the service," with a smile.

Ten thousand years apart and there wasn’t much to talk about. What was Adam supposed to do? Pretend he gave a shit about Charlie’s baby photos? Ask how marital bliss with his ex-wife was? Were Lilith’s tits as fine to grope as they had looked in Eden? How’s work as the king of hell?

Lucifer was halfway into a bottle into something he called top shelf shit before either of them actually spoke.

“You ever miss Eve?”

Adam didn’t want to talk about Eve and told Lucifer as much.

“I miss Lilith.” Lucifer stared out at the stage. He spoke like Adam wasn’t actually there. “Sometimes I’ll be fine, then I’ll see something that reminds me of her and I’ll spiral. The only thing that helped was the ducks.”

“Why the fuck are you telling me this?”

“You’re probably the only person I know who can relate.”

Adam pulled the bottle away as Lucifer reached to pour himself another glass. “I want you to be sober enough to hear me and understand. I don’t give a shit. I didn’t ask Lilith why she wanted to be in heaven. I agreed to get her in, because I hate you more than I hate her.”

Lucifer laughed, it was deep and throaty, “alright.” He propped his head in his hands and leaned as the next singer took the stage. “It’s just funny that you don’t know. Lilith is gay.”

The liquid in Adam’s throat caught and he choked, sputtering at the ease of the confession. Lucifer didn’t sound bitter or like this was some secret confession. Rather, he sounded like it was simply common knowledge.

He just smiled his drunk little smile. “We had the same goals and shared an interest in the same type of hole. If you catch my meaning. Well, I'm more flexible on that point.”

“Why did you get married?” Adam didn’t mean to get involved in Lucifer’s drama but he was mildly curious why Lucifer would marry and miss a woman he knew didn’t, wouldn’t, love him.

“Show. She only had her voice. Not the claws or teeth, nothing to protect her from the other sinners. She was a good friend. I loved her as such. The sex was good, even if our preferences differed. And when they differed we simple found other lovers.” Lucifer swished his now empty glass in Adam direction. “Come on barkeep, ain’t the story worth another glass?”

Adam rolled his eyes and pushed the bottle back over. Lucifer drunk little smile turned predatory, he slid closer and pushed the bottle back.

“Un uh. You wanna take it from me, you get to keep it. Now pour me another drink, sweetheart. Daddy’s thirsty.”

Raising an eyebrow and the bottle, Adam poured a drink for the man pouring is heart out. “You always get like this when you’re drunk? Shouldn’t you be slurring and shit?”

"Ever hear the term, high functioning alcoholic?"

"No?"

"Oh, well, never mind then. My joke won't make sense." He paused a beat, "I'm not, you know. If you look up what that is. I burn off most of the alcohol as I drink it by the nature of my domain. Most of it never reaches my brain. I could burn off all of it, if I wanted to. Be stone cold sober no matter how much I drink, but it's fun to be a little tipsy. And it lowers the guard of those around you when they think you drink like a fish."

In the low lights of the lounge Adam hasn't noticed how close Lucifer had gotten. The candle on their table flickered with hellfire, red and low. Lucifer's eyes shined, reflecting the light of the candle. Adam hadn't noticed how softly Lucifer had been looking at him. As though nothing else matter but him.

A new song started up, the melody low and sultry. The singer on stage opened her mouth but all Adam heard was Lucifer's voice, low and quiet, singing just for him.

"I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me And if we go someplace to dance, I know that there's a chance you won't be leaving with me"

Lucifer's hand brushed his as the instrumental break played.

"Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you""

Lucifer's thigh pressed against his.

"I can see it in your eyes, that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before"

"Adam," Lucifer took advantage of the break in the lyrics to whisper his name. "And though it's just a line to you, for me it's true, and never seemed so right before"

Leaning in until their breathe mingled, Adam could only see those shining eyes.

"I practice every day to find some clever lines to say to make the meaning come true But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late, and I'm alone with you"

A hand took his and Adam's quickening heart skipped.

"The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you", I do."

Lucifer moved closer and Adam let Lucifer's lips met his. Adam closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. It felt too brief and he leaned in to follow as Lucifer pulled away. "I love you" Lucifer held the final note as the song ended.

A bottle of champagne they never ordered was left in a bucket of ice at some point as Adam and Lucifer had been so focused on each other.

A thought came to Adam's mind and he had to know, "did you plan to seduce me from the beginning?"

"Since Eden, at least." Lucifer's half closed eyes looking up at him matched his soft half smile. His fingers clasped together under his chin. "I love you." it was as though once Lucifer said it once, the floodgates opened and he couldn't stop himself.

Lucifer's wedding band glinted in the light of the candle. His eyes followed Adam's gaze. With a simple twist he pulled the ring off and dropped it on the table.

"I'm a single man, Adam. How about you?"

Adam's voice was hard to find. He didn't like talking about it, "Till death do us part. And she parted a long time ago."

"Did you ever forgive me? For the things I did?"

"No," he croaked out as Lucifer once more leaned in.

"Then, perhaps, if you'll allow me," Lucifer voice was husky in his ear, "I can begin to make up for all the wrong against you I've committed."

Adam felt the tip of a tail press against his knee, sliding up to his thigh.

He should run. His spine tingled as Lucifer slid a hand into Adam's hair.

It was wrong. The lips on his felt so right.

"You have a lot to make up for."

"I have a lot of time to make it up to you."

Adam didn't notice that the lounge was now empty. The house and stage lights were out, and in the dark was a sea of flickering candles. The song Lucifer sung for him played over speakers. It wasn't the same, but it started up again.

When was the last time anyone had put this much effort and time into trying to win Adam's heart before? Never.

He'd seduced women before, but never had he been seduced. Adam found he liked it. It felt good to be chased. To be the one someone puts effort into loving.

"I love you." Lucifer sang along before meeting Adam in a kiss again.

"You're growing on me." He wasn't in love, there was a lot of history between them. But, he was willing to let Lucifer try to change his heart.

-

[frozenwolftemplar]

'Tis the season for *fun* conversations

Fandom: Carmen Sandiego (2019)

Rating: G

Word Count: ~1,152

Just a little Christmas fun, inspired by my thinking about the societal constructs Carmen wouldn't have encountered growing up sequestered on VILE Island.

Apologies if this isn't very good, I've been trying to get out of a writer's block rut and this is the end result :/

+++

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

As one, Zach and Ivy turned from the television set to stare puzzled at Carmen, feet curled under her as she reclined on the hotel suite's armchair, then each other, exchanging baffled looks. The boss didn’t usually watch TV with them, spending post-caper evenings chatting with Player or people watching from hotel balconies or lobbies or nearby concourses; questions were to be expected on the odd occasions she did join them. But for this show?

“What’s what supposed to mean?” Ivy asked, setting down her can of Coke precariously on the arm of the couch.

Carmen gestured at the screen, indicating the kiddie Christmas cartoon that was the night’s main event. Really, she couldn’t see what made it, per Zach and Ivy’s insistence, "a classic" that “they had to watch:” most of the characters were on the mean side, especially the season’s ubiquitous Santa Claus (guy was a jerk to rival Shadowsan; what about him was worth celebrating for a solid month?), the music was tinny and off-key more than it was on, and the story about a deer who couldn’t catch a break was more aggravating than amusing (another seasonal mystery: what was festive about watching someone get bullied?).

But cartoons had been nonexistent on the Island, and watching the little stuffed animals seemingly, on their own accord, move was a diverting novelty. So while it was snowing too hard to avail themselves of what Chicago had to offer and she was gaining firsthand experience of what it was to be ‘snowed in,’ (something Player had found wildly amusing: “You said you wanted to know what living in Canada was like.” “I take it back.” “Too late!”) she’d accepted the siblings’ offer to pass the night with what was apparently an essential component of American Christmas, letting herself be mildly entertained by the childhood magic she’d missed out on in the form of an admittedly cute deer prancing across the screen, singing songs with an aspiring dentist (American Christmas did not make much sense).

Being mildly entertained did not preclude having questions, though.

“Man’s work,” She clarified, repeating Donner’s justification for excluding his nameless wife from searching for their runaway son. “What even is that?”

Neither sibling reached for the remote as the cartoon cut to a commercial break and ads began to blare, the television forgotten as they stared at Carmen like she’d just sprouted antlers to match the puppets on screen. “…Seriously?” Ivy asked, the word tight with disbelief. “You’ve never heard anyone say somethin’ like that? No one, like, ever said you couldn’t do something ‘cause you were a girl?”

“Um…” Carmen furrowed her brows, thinking back over her previous life on the Island. There were plenty of times she was told she couldn’t do something: play with Dr. Bellum's inventions, hike into the jungle by herself, poke around Countess Cleo’s wine cellar, rifle through Countess Cleo’s closet (the countess had been one of the main issuers of ‘don't-do-that’s, right after guess-who (again, jerk)), enroll in the Academy, sit in on Graduation (something she never did see but that still turned her stomach), leave. But the reasons had always boiled down to her being too young, too immature, too unruly; being a girl never had any bearing on the 'why's behind the 'no's.

“Ever?” Incredulous italics slanted through Ivy’s voice as Carmen slowly shook her head. “Wow.” She sat back on the sofa with a huff and crossed her arms over her chest, the Colgate spokesman’s smile taking on a suddenly nervous air at the venom in Ivy's glare. Grabbing her soda, she slammed back the rest of the can, then crushed it with a hand that had the innocent polar bears giving a growling crunch in alarm. “Guess VILE had something going for them after all.”

Confusion deepening (because how could VILE have anything going for them?), Carmen turned to Zach, the bowl of popcorn speckled with M&Ms and marshmallows sitting uncharacteristically forgotten in his lap. “Did I miss something?”

Zach blinked. “Apparently, sexism.”

“Sexism?" Carmen repeated slowly, the word an unfamiliar texture on her tongue. She flicked her gaze down at Ivy’s venomous snort, then bounced back to Zach. "What’s sexism?”

Zach's ears suddenly flamed to match his hair. "Uh..." He turned his attention to the all-consuming task of rummaging through the popcorn bowl for any bits marshmallows that’d survived Carmen’s turn with the bowl (a futile endeavor; she’d been commendably thorough). “You wanna take this one, Ives?”

“No.” Zach yelped as Ivy, face black, snatched her own handful of candy-dotted popcorn and champed it viciously, letting the unfortunate kernels pay for the insults of those idiots back at the track.

“But you have experience!”

“Experience?” (you could have experience at sexism? What, was it some sort of sport?)

“Which I’m *not* interested in rehashing!”

“Hey guys.” The brewing argument was doused by the sudden appearance of Player on the laptop monitor as it flickered to life on the coffee table. A bright lilt of laughing voices filtered through the door of the unfamiliar room he’d set up in, combining with the Santa hat sitting askew atop his head and array of snowmen, smiling elves, and red and green garnitures scattered about the space to give the (mostly) familiar tableau an unusually festive air. “Managed to snag a break from the family get-together festivities, so I thought I’d check in on how the snow day- well, night’s going.“

“Carm has a question for you!”

If Player was taken aback at Zach’s just-this-side-of-desperate interruption, he didn’t show it beyond a brow jumping into the faux-fur brim of the hat, merely turning to Carmen with a willing smile. “Sure thing. Fire away Red.”

“What’s sexism?”

The grin dropped, replaced with an expression that was dead-ringer for the ones Zach and Ivy had worn minutes before (was this a part of sexism?). “Sexism? For real?”

“Yes.”

Silence filtered through as realized that yes, his speakers were functioning properly, meaning that no, he hadn’t heard wrong. “Uh-huh…what are you guys watching again?”

“’Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.’”

Ah (well, now he had something else to add to the list of why he didn't like that cartoon).

“Ooooohhh boy.” Blowing out his cheeks, Player pulled off the hat and ran a hand through his hair, tipping the chair onto its back legs. He didn’t mind explaining things to Carmen, and really enjoyed being her guide to the world beyond VILE (truly; he wouldn’t have it any other way), but some things…well, some things are never fun to explain.

But she’d asked, so he’d do his best to answer. This should be interesting. “Well, you see Red…”

Ten eye-opening minutes later, Carmen was seething hotter than Ivy and on her way to blow off steam in the hotel’s complimentary gym, the cartoon having lost all magic.

Because while the truth of sexism was upsetting in and of itself, the realization that VILE, of all places, was free of the sin, and the mess of raveled feelings that burst from it, was a thousand times worse.

+++

Because at VILE, they believe in equal-opportunity evil, and they have a zero-tolerance policy for sexist comments. 🙃

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! 💙

[trillscienceofficer]

tom/b’elanna and chakotay/seven double date is possibly the funniest trek romcom/horror movie pitch I can imagine. please say more about tom and seven's "banter"

TRULY I'm very glad you see the horrifying potential of this post as well

okay just imagine. they've been back on earth for a couple of months, no one in this group of people knows what the future holds exactly for them (two ex-maquis, one ex-maquis AND ex-con, one ex-borg), tom and b'elanna are exhausted since they're looking after a newborn baby. b'elanna is very pissed at chakotay for this relationship with seven thing (per this other post), chakotay resents that hostility and he's now mad at her and tom (whom he never liked, very understandably so because in addition to tom being kind of a dick to chakotay for no reason i don't think he ever truly forgot about janeway and tom making a fool of him with tom's fake defection, and now janeway isn't their captain anymore, so). tom in turn knows that chakotay doesn't like him and i don't think he'd lose an opportunity to get one up on him. then there's seven and b'elanna's whole rivalry (need i say more?)

to make a long story short probably the two people who are able to tolerate one another the most in that situation are tom and seven, and tbh i can see tom coming up with this whole double date thing and getting seven on board with the idea of "maybe we can make b'elanna and chakotay get along again". (except of course in addition to the more 'noble' motivation they both definitely have a score to settle)

but neither tom and seven are very good at banter in unfamiliar situations, i feel; i mean, at least tom can crack a joke (chakotay would not laugh) but seven would straight up just try a list of conversation starters, which would make b'elanna roll her eyes so hard. tom would start reminiscing about voyager and it'd inevitably be anecdotes involving him and harry, which after a while i think would make b'elanna upset because once again he's not including her. chakotay would respond with his own memories of tom's being insubordinate or some shit, which would make tom temporarily shut up but make b'elanna even more upset. seven might mention something mildly horrifying like she and icheb finding sleep on a bed uncomfortable compared to their old alcoves but finding the privacy of actual quarters refreshing, which would make chakotay and tom cringe but b'elanna would retort that it must be nice to get any sleep at all. if the topic moves to what starfleet plans to do with their requests of joining it will get immediately more awkward (since we know chakotay and tom got recommissioned and seven was shut out, b'elanna still a question mark). i can definitely see the night ending with a dessert half-eaten and a tom making a half-drunk allusion at his and b'elanna's nonexistent sexual life (see: newborn baby), and seven trying to make a joke about her sex life having gotten more interesting recently but really NOT nailing the tone. everyone goes home kind of scarred by the experience and in utter silence.

tl;dr i don't think a second double-date would happen

[thisismysecondrodeo]

Twitter Famous (Jason Sudeikis x Reader) - Chapter 1

wc: 2.4k

Story Page | Story Tag

You had never planned on being a musician. When you were younger you thought maybe astronaut or author—there was still time for one of those things but it seemed you hadn’t made it out of the A’s in your career book—but after getting into songwriting in college, selling a few of your songs, and a few viral videos of you actually performing, you had carved out a small niche for yourself as a musical artist. It was strange to think about, but you had reached exactly the level of celebrity you were comfortable with—very famous to a decent-sized group of people, and absolutely nonexistent to everyone else. 

The combination of medium celebrity and the fact that you’d never sought fame at all was probably why you were a little looser with social media than your manager, Kayla, would like. You were never offending anyone, you mainly just tweeted personal information that she’d rather you kept to yourself—like how finishing the show Normal People made you sad and horny or the story of the worst date you’d ever been on that ended with you peeing your pants in an In-N-Out. 

You were taking a break at the recording studio while working on your second album. It was hard to handle the writing block sometimes, a lot of pressure to keep creating something greater than what came before. The studio was wood-paneled and a little smokey, but comfortable. You’d recorded your debut album there as well and so it felt like being in your own living room when you told your producer you needed a break and flopped down on the black leather couch in the corner to pull out your phone. 

“Headed to the corner store, need anything,” your producer, Chris, asked, sliding his vape out of his pocket and wiggling it. You didn’t need the hint that he was going to get pods, he vaped so much that talking to him was like trying to peer through fog at the San Francisco bridge. Though you and weed were well acquainted, neither vapes nor cigarettes were your speed. 

“All good, thanks, Chris.” 

He nodded and shut the door behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts which was never a good thing, especially when a recording session wasn’t going well. The songs were technically all written, but when you went to record you realized they needed work and inspiration just wasn’t hitting you. It didn’t help that a lot of what you were recording were love songs, written during a relationship that ended poorly, to say the least. Your ex was mildly famous himself and a musician as well, which you had hoped meant he’d understand you. After all, what was being a musician if not just trying over and over again to make yourself understood? But he had wanted fame more than he ever wanted to be comprehended, which meant wanting your relationship dragged into any tabloid that would report on it and every date you went on filmed for Instagram and TikTok…and on one memorable occasion, live-streamed on Twitch. So it was hard to record songs you’d written while deeply in love now that you were rather apathetic to the whole thing. But you also couldn’t just rewrite every song as a breakup song no matter how much you wanted to when you’d already started recording, so you tweaked what you could to make sure you didn’t sound…inauthentic. 

But when tweaking lyrics wasn’t enough you scrolled social media and tried to inspire the feelings you had when you wrote the songs. And as embarrassing as it was, you normally did that by looking at pictures and videos of your celebrity crush, Jason Sudeikis. You’d been a fan of his since you were young watching him on SNL but your little crush had ramped up since the Ted Lasso craze which meant lots of content for you to lust after. You scrolled past a video of him performing onstage for a charity event called Thundergong and thanked your lucky stars that Chris was gone so you could watch the video 3 times over. 

You chuckled as you tweeted: 

You weren’t surprised it was relatable as the notifications started rolling in but after bantering with a few people Chris came back swinging a plastic bag on one finger and you locked your phone to get back to work. 

A few hours later, you’d had more success recording but you were still mentally and emotionally exhausted by the time you hopped in your car to head home. You certainly weren’t excited to sit in LA traffic but you had just downloaded an audiobook you were looking forward to listening to. Connecting your phone to Bluetooth made you realize just how much you’d missed since you tweeted—a slew of Twitter notifications, more Instagram follows, 2 missed calls from Kayla, and a dozen texts. 

You chuckled, calling Kayla back and bracing for her playfully admonishing you to keep some thoughts to yourself. 

“Hiiii Kayla.” 

“Hi Y/N…how are you,” she sounded genuinely curious which only amused you more. 

“I feel like I’m pretty good…but I also feel like you’re calling to tell me I’m in trouble.”

“Not trouble…,” Kayla trailed off, but she laughed and so did you. “WHY did you tweet that? I mean don’t get me wrong it’s not a bad thing I’m just suddenly fielding requests from interviews trying to find out what over 40 man you’re dating, and I’d like to know too.” 

“No one! I’m not dating anyone,” you laughed. “Honestly? I had just watched a video of Jason Sudeikis singing.” 

If anyone knew the ins and outs of your crush on Jason, it was Kayla, who you regularly asked if the two of you would ever be at the same place. It was mostly a joke, you knew you’d lose your mind in the same room as him, but there was a non-zero chance you’d run into him considering you'd started playing the late-night show circuit. 

If you thought Kayla was laughing before she was really cackling now. “THAT’S what that’s about?! Oh my God, Y/N, you’re ridiculous. I would still recommend you keep that to yourself—an age gap like that will shoot you straight to trending.” 

“You say that like if he found out he’d be at all interested. I guarantee you that man doesn’t want me.” 

Kayla sighed. “How many times do I have to remind you that you are more famous and more beautiful and more talented than you seem to think?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah I think I pay you to say that though,” you laughed, taking the exit towards home. “Appreciate it though. And sorry to make your life harder.” 

“Nah, it was funny. And I know fame isn’t your goal, but…not the worst thing for album promotion.” 

“God, I’m going to be asked about this constantly aren’t I,” you groaned but you only had yourself to blame. “Oh well, my fault. Night, Kayla.”

“Night, Y/N.”

When you got home, made yourself dinner, and worked up the nerve to open Twitter again. It was mostly people guessing who you were talking about, trying to get you to tell them, or just volunteering their own Over-40s and it was a solid list: Chris Evans, Oscar Isaac, Sterling K. Brown, and so on and so forth. A few valid critiques of heterosexuality, considering you weren’t straight yourself. 

You thought about just picking one person and telling them the truth but for the sake of Kayla’s heartburn you decided to keep that to yourself for now—instead, you added: 

Still relatable, still honest, but also still clearly a joke and it took a little heat off of people wanting to know who you were dating. You were just being thirsty on the internet and who could blame you for that?

- 

Another week, another studio session and this one was worse than before. Your tweet was still getting the occasional notification but obviously, it blew over. It wasn’t like you were the first person to think that, and you certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

“I can just tell that your heart isn’t in it,” Chris sighed, pausing the recording playback. “I mean you always sound great, but we both know this ain’t it.” 

You spun around in the chair next to Chris, your face pointed at the ceiling, eyes closed, as you took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I know, I know. But the lyrics are garbage.” The studio door opened and closed but you didn’t open your eyes.

“The lyrics aren’t garbage. They meant something to you at one point, they’re good. You’re just singing them like they’re sarcastic.” 

You laughed because you knew he was right. “Listen, I just—”

“Need to get laid?”

You picked your head up to see it was Andie who had entered, your best friend since college, and an up-and-coming actress herself who you hung out with more than anyone. She had just gotten off set and told you she’d swing by to hear your new stuff, and you weren’t surprised she showed up just in time to see you close to freaking out. 

“Me getting laid isn’t going to make this song any better. Hear it for yourself.” 

You motioned for Chris to start the recording over and the three of you listened to about 30 seconds of it before he cut it again. Andie was sitting on the couch with her knees pulled up to her chest as she listened, gently rocking to the music.

“So,” you asked, “you see?”

“Lyrics are good, music is good…I stand by my assessment, you just need to get railed so you sound like you actually believe what you're saying.” Chris laughed and you gave him an exasperated look but he only shrugged and motioned that he was stepping outside. Andie came over and took his seat. 

“Okay, so if you don’t want to get railed—” 

“Didn’t say that, it’s just not that easy.” 

“Then I don’t know…what’s something you can do that makes you FEEL like you just got railed?”

It was classic Andie to be so preoccupied with you having sex, but she only wanted the best for you and she knew your ex had…not been it. She just wanted to see you having fun. And in truth it wasn’t a bad suggestion, you thought on it for a moment, humming. 

“Honestly? I watch Sleeping with Other People for the 100th time.” 

Andie laughed, “You should tweet that, it's funny.” 

“You know Kayla hates when I’m funny,” you joked, but you were already pulling out your phone. “Soooo, movie night tonight?”

Andie stood up as Chris came back into the studio and returned to the couch. “I don’t know dude, that sounds like something you should do in private.”

You chuckled and Chris looked confused but didn’t ask any questions which you appreciated. “You, uh, ready to get back in the booth?”

“Let’s try the next track, just give me one sec,” you were staring at your phone as you responded and then you locked it and sat it on the desk before opening the door to the booth. 

When you came back out Andie was looking at you wide-eyed.

“What, was it that good?”

Andie just grinned. “Check your Twitter.” 

You couldn’t help it, you squealed and Andie cackled like a fool. Jason Sudeikis liked your tweet. 

“That recording was really good, I think—”

“Not now Chris, can’t you see her crush liked her tweet,” Andie giggled and Chris rolled his eyes, but you were embarrassed so you just locked your phone. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m here, I’m focused. That can wait.” 

“Can it?! @ him right now and tell him you have a crush on him I swear to god,” Andie’s face was enthusiastic and you wanted to join her in her excitement but you also wanted Chris to take you seriously. 

“Andie! It's alright, just come over later, we’ll drink wine and squeal. Promise.”

“Alright, I get the hint. I’m just gonna go flirt with the front desk guy again, get me when you’re done." 

A woman of your word, after the two of you left the recording studio you poured Andie a glass of wine and listened to her try to convince you that you should try to DM Jason Sudeikis. 

“He doesn’t follow me.” 

“Okay, but everyone knows he, like, searches his name or whatever. He clearly sees tweets about him…”

“And?” 

“Annnnd you should tweet at him.” 

The two of you were standing in the kitchen, picking at a premade charcuterie board you’d picked up on the way home. It was already dark out and chances were high that Andie would be staying the night, which only added to the sleepover vibe. 

“We’re strangers Andie, he has no clue who I am, I’m not just gonna harass him on Twitter.” 

Andie threw her hands up in the air. “How many times do I have to remind you that you are hot and also famous? He might be interested! Look, why don’t you just go back to last week’s 'men over 40 tweet', pick one of the people clamoring to find out who you were talking about, and mention him. If he doesn’t see it, no harm, no foul. If he DOES see it and he’s not interested, you were just interacting with fans. And if he IS interested…then I’m a genius, you owe me a hundred bucks, and I get to name your first child.” 

You scoffed, a small smile on your face. You loved Andie, you loved how she encouraged your nonsense, but you knew there was no way anything would ever come of it. You groaned playfully, “Okay but no children.” 

“Fine, dog.” 

“Deal.” 

You pulled out your phone and followed through, butterflies in your stomach the whole time. You tossed your phone away from you like a bomb as soon as it was done. 

When you woke up a little hungover with a missed call from Kayla, you thought you might be trending again. You weren’t really surprised to see Jason liked the tweet, even if it did make you swoon. You were more surprised that he followed you. But you were stunned that it wasn’t you that was trending… It was #ShootYourShotJason

Every other tweet you saw was “Jason ask her out” and “Jason make a move”. A few that suggested you were out of his league, a few more wondering who the hell you were. But most importantly, Jason was liking every single one. 

“ANDIE,” you yelled, knowing she could hear you from the guest room. She came in rubbing her eyes and grunting. “What the hell did we do?!”

[holymusicalmothman]

Heat of the Moments - Dan Avidan x Reader

This is based off that second dream I had about Danny.

Also I’m tagging the people who liked that post in case they were interested.

Anywho, as per usual. No Ashley. I’m not including her in any of my Danny Fic

The way I had to google the weirdest stuff for this lol. I’m going to try to be writing more, it keeps me calm and wedding stress is driving me nuts since it’s only a month away. ANYWAYS. So while requests aren’t technically open, I’m totally cool with being sent fic ideas for the characters I typically write for. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be inspired

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of anxiety, mentions of being led on

Word Count: 2610 (gosh dang. good job me!)

Comments are always appreciated! I love hearing y’alls brain thoughts after reading lol.

Masterlist

Two years. It had been two years working for Game Grumps. Quite honestly, it had been one of the best years of your life. You had always been fascinated by the Youtube Gaming community, and you were grateful to finally be a part of it. Granted, you were mainly putting your art and animation talents to the test, but knowing what it all went toward was more than enough. You were more than content to live as you were.

However, it was not without its challenges. Outside of the fact that you were doing what you loved, over the last half couple months it had begun feeling rather tense-ish with a certain coworker. Well, tense for you at least.

Dan Avidan, Game Grumps host, musician extraordinaire, and coworker had been seeming rather…flirtatious? Was that a good way to put it? 

Yes, you supposed it was. It was one of those things, however, where it’s such casual flirtatious comments that you can’t tell if he’s actually hitting on you or not. If you thought about each moment from different angles, you genuinely couldn’t tell if he was being flirty or friendly.

Moment No. 1

It had been a Monday morning and everyone had seemed to have a case of the Monday Morning Blues. It had rained all weekend and everyone seemed to have that bleary eyed sleepiness. Even Arin was having a bit of trouble bringing what he called his “Internet Funny Man” energy to the office that morning. The weather seemed to be making everyone feel sleepy.

And you were certainly no exception. You stood in the kitchen, in front of the Keurig, just staring into the nonexistent void as you waited for your coffee. 

A light touch on your arm startled you out of your stupor and you found a mildly concerned looking Dan at your side.

“Oh, hey, sorry. What’s up?” You asked lamely, unsure of how long he had been standing there.

Dan’s brown eyes furrowed in confusion. “You didn’t hear what I said, did you?” 

You just shook your head. 

The confusion vanished as it turned into mirth. “That’s alright,” he smiled, “you seemed like you were witnessing the depths of the abyss for a second, so I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

A light chuckle escaped you. “I can’t say much for right now, but if you give the coffee a few minutes, I’ll be good. It’s just a case of the Mondays.”

“Good, wouldn’t want my favorite animator succumbing to madness. Talk to you later, sunshine.” 

And with a quick pat on the shoulder, he was gone. Leaving you alone in the kitchen wondering what the hell just happened. 

Moment No. 2 

Late. Late. Late. You were oh so terribly late. You somehow managed to sleep right through your alarm and were now rushing to work. Not good. 

Granted, you were only going to be fifteen minutes late, and you also knew Arin would understand and no one would mind. However, it still sent you rushing around in a state of panic. 

You hurried into the office with a relieved sigh. As you sat down at your desk, you let out a frustrated sigh. 

Brian raised an eyebrow from his spot across from you. 

“You good?”

Shoving the frustration to the side, you smiled. “Yeah, just ran late and skipped breakfast, then left lunch on the counter. It happens, but this is what DoorDash is for right?”

Brian gave you a concerned look that only a father could manage. “Just make sure you eat something.”

“Yes, sir, Ninja Brian, sir.” You gave him a mock salute before tucking yourself into today’s work, unaware that another set of ears had heard the exchange. 

After a few hours, you stood to stretch and take a quick restroom break. Upon returning to your desk, however, there was now a take out bag resting next to your computer. 

You blinked. The restaurant was familiar, it was close by and also an office favorite, so it wasn’t uncommon for take out to be seen around the office.

But you hadn’t ordered lunch from anywhere yet. 

You peered inside the bag, immediately catching sight of the blue sticky note.

Hey!

Heard you missed breakfast, so I grabbed you some lunch! 

This one’s on me, so don’t sweat it.

♥️ Danny.

You stared at the little heart. Not only had Dan bought you lunch, he had also signed it with a heart. 

What was going on. Was he into you?

Moment No. 3

It wasn’t very often that you got to sit in on a Ten Minute Power Hour, but when you did it was always a blast. 

So you were crammed off screen next to Allie, watching the guys try and do a Draw My Life but with their friendship over the years.

Arin was red in the face from laughing. “What is that?!” he wheezed. 

Throwing up his hands in exasperation, Dan exclaimed, “IT’S LINK! CAN’T YOU TELL BY THE HAIR?”

Cue the entire room dying. 

This only spurred on Dan’s frustration. “Someone come fix this!” He threw his marker down and stood, walking over to the background shelves to dramatically sulk. 

Arin only laughed harder and waved you over. “Come help him out, cause I can’t think right now.”

You hesitated for a moment. Watching on the sidelines was one thing but actually being on camera and involved in an episode like this wasn’t something you had prepared for. 

Allie nudged you gently and you stood. You were an artist, it was essentially what you did for a living and had been doing your whole life. So why were your hands sweating.

As you grabbed the marker and surveyed Dan’s disaster of a drawing, you spoke. “It’s not that bad. I mean, it’s not good, but its salvageable.”

You quickly erased the stick-figure Link’s hair as Dan pulled away from the shelves to watch you work.

“This is the only Get Outta Jail card you’re getting, dude.” Arin said, grinning. 

“I’ll take it, man. This is a nightmare.”

You laughed and shook your head as you finished redrawing the hair and added a little sword in the figure’s hand. 

“There we go!” You stepped back and quickly rejoined Allie, anxious to be out of the momentary spotlight.

“Hey! It looks like Link!” Dan grinned at you. “Thanks, lovely!”

Your heart stuttered against your will. “Anytime.” You said, covering up your momentary malfunction.

Lovely. Granted, Dan called the fans “lovelies” but something about the way he had just said it was different than how he addressed the fans. You had to force yourself to not think about it. To not play into the way your heart was slowly starting to formulate a crush. You were just reading into things.

Moment No. 4 

It wasn’t unusual to find yourself working on a quick little Grumps animation for one of the videos. Every now and then, Arin asked if you could make a little one to slip into a video, never anything super long. Just long enough to keep people entertained. He tended to use them as intermissions of a sort, in case they got interrupted by something mid video. 

You had just finished one up and were going over it to double check on everything when someone leaned over you. 

“What’cha working on?” Danny asked, looking at your screen with curiosity. 

You felt your palms go clammy at the close proximity, but hid it well. 

“Just a short animation for one of the recent recordings.” You explained. “Wanna see?”

Dan gave an excited nod and you handed him your headset, trying (and failing) to not watch how he brushed his hair out of his face. 

It had been a little bit since the Ten Minute Power Hour moment and you were still warring with the fact that you might have a crush on the lanky musician. 

Dan braced one hand on your desk and the other on the back of your chair, “Show me what you got.”

As you hit play on the animation, the only thing you could think of was those stupid cliche moments in novels where the guy leans on the girl’s desk because this was exactly how you pictured it looking and feeling like. Your palms went from a nervous clammy to an anxiety sweaty. Or somewhere in between, you couldn’t tell.

You were very aware of the way he was leaning over you and you swore you could smell him. He had a very faint woodsy scent to him, you couldn’t tell if it was a cologne or if it was just him. A lock of unruly hair brushed against your shoulder and it took everything into you to keep pretending to watch the video. 

Eventually it was over and your headset was handed back to you. 

“That was really good!” He was smiling at you. “Is that for the ‘technical difficulties’ from yesterday?” 

The air quotes he put up when he said technical difficulties had you laughing. 

“If you mean when the resident ghost knocked over the shelf,” You said. “Then yes.”

Dan’s smile was infectious as he leaned closer and dropped his voice. “It was the ghost of all the games we never finished finally coming back to haunt us.” 

You both laughed. 

“Anyways, I was just curious to what you were up to. It looks really good, you’ve got an insane amount of talent.”

And the war was lost. Because with just that sentence, you knew you had a major crush.

Moment No. 5

The next moment didn’t even happen at work. You weren’t even around him at the moment.

All you had done was throw a quick pic of a work in progress up on your instagram. It hadn’t even been up for ten minutes before you got a comment notification.

@dannyavidan : This looks so good! I’ve got to get you to do a piece for NSP someday!

You stared at the comment. Dan wanted you to do a piece for his band? 

You don’t know how long you sat there thinking. Eventually, a ding sounded and you checked your instagram again. 

Dan had messaged you.

Dan: Hey! I was totally serious about having you do a piece for the band! We’ve got a new project coming up and I would love to have someone as talented as you on the team for it!

You: Seriously?

Dan: You wound me! Of course. You put a lot of effort into what you do and it’s really good. Why? Dost the fair maiden think I jest? 😆

Your fingers hesitated briefly before responding, your heart and brain going a million miles an hour. Yes, he was being kinda dorky, but it was endearing.

You: I’ll think about it. But it shouldn’t be a problem. 😀

A few hours passed and you were scrolling through Instagram before bed. Just a few minutes and you’d go to sleep, it was a weekend night after all. Flicking through stories, you almost passed NSP’s insta story. 

“Guess who may have just gotten the coolest animator ever to do a video!”

Whelp. There went any hope for sleep. 

Present. 

It had taken a lot of internal thinking, panicking, and general theorizing over the past few month for you to finally make up your mind.

But all the past moments had you sure of your crush on Dan. And, after confiding in a longtime friend, you were sure he felt the same. It couldn’t be a coincidence. 

So you had decided to take the plunge. You were going to take the initiative. You were going to ask him out.

And the thought almost left you breathless. 

But as you walked into work that morning, ruminating over the past few months, you mustered your determination and found Dan in the kitchen area.

“Morning,” you greeted him, smiling. 

He gave a little wave and continuing making his tea. There was a pretty large recording session for the guys that morning.

“Can I ask you something?” You said, not giving yourself a chance to abort the mission at hand.

Dan nodded. 

“Would you wanna go on a date this Friday? With me?” And there it was.

He froze. 

A moment passed. Then another. And a third.

And both your heart and stomach went through the floor. 

Dan finally spoke, his voice coming out strained. “Um, listen…”

You held both your hands up. “No, it’s cool, I misinterpreted. It’s fine. You don’t need to answer. I’ll see you around the office, ‘kay?”

And you bolted without giving him a moment to even try to respond.

You felt sick. The rug under your feet was gone and the tears pricking your eyes were starting to sting from you trying to hold them back. You made a beeline for the Power Hour room, knowing it’d be empty and you collapsed onto the Grump Couch. 

You took a deep breath and let them slip silently down your face.

You felt like such an idiot. Yes, Dan had seemed like he was flirting, but obviously it hadn’t truly been that way.

You heard the door open and close softly and you jumped up to see Arin standing there.

“You okay? Need to talk about whatever it is?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

You sat back down and wiped your eyes with a shaky breath.

“It’s nothing. I just misinterpreted signals and it’s on me,” you admitted. “Mistook friendliness as flirtiness, that’s all.”

“Was someone leading you on?” He asked, seating himself next to you.

So he must’ve not seen you get rejected by Dan, becaused he sounded like a concerned older brother who was about ready to fight someone.

You shook your head. Dan didn’t even seem capable of something like that. 

“It honestly was just a misunderstanding. With any luck we’ll just both forget it ever happened and things will just go back to normal.” 

The door opened again, albeit a lot less gently than it had when Arin entered. 

“Hey, I didn’t—” 

You stared at Dan like a deer in headlights and you knew that he was looking at the tears on your face.

Arin stood. “Alright you two, play nice and get this sorted out.” He said, shaking his head as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

A awkward pause, and then Dan was sitting next to you. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I did not mean to make you cry. You must think I’m such an ass.” He rambled. “I didn’t mean to sound like I was rejecting you at all. God, I must’ve sounded like a jerk.”

You said nothing, staring at him. Your silence urging him to continue.

“I wasn’t expecting you to ask me out first, and you caught me with a giant piece of turkey in my mouth and I was trying to find a way to tell you that there was way too much food in my mouth but you were already gone. I am so sorry.”

“You weren’t expecting me to…” your words failed you.

“No, not at that moment,” Dan looked away, suddenly going from panicked to rather shy. “I honestly was still trying to get enough courage to ask you.”

A moment of charged silence passed as you both mulled over your thoughts.

“So, will you…?” Dan trailed off.

You snapped your gaze to meet his brown eyes.

“Will I…”

“Would you go out with me? This Friday? Seven o’clock?” He asked, nervousness, uncertainty and hope in his eyes. 

You grinned, ignoring the way that tears once more tried to make an appearance. “I’d love to.”

Dan’s eyes sparkled in response. 

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For the people who liked the other post: @perhaps-im-dave-rolland @shnashq​ and @pwudding-pwup

[theseshipsshallsail]

Summary:

Today had been exhausting. To put it mildly. A thick layer of snow enveloped the Upper East Side when Oliver left for work; extending his regular ten minute commute to a miserable, half-hour schlep. His office radiator was on the fritz - everyone and everything demanded his undivided attention - and to make matters worse, he’d skipped lunch entirely due to an irate phone call from his parents.

HEAD ABOVE WATER (IN THE EYE OF THE STORM)

There’s a wash-thin t-shirt from his pre-grad days draped over the dresser mirror: one of several incorporated into Elio’s casual wardrobe since his much-anticipated move to the States. A Yawn is the Body’s Silent Scream it declares in faded, vinyl lettering, yet when Oliver’s jaw cracks twice in as many minutes the bone-deep contentment that follows feels nothing short of euphoric as he smothers the sound in the petal-soft skin of his boyfriend’s freckled forearm. 

To his right, a constant drip-drip-drip emanates from the brownstone’s fire escape. An occasional heavy gust rattles the frosted panes. As with most evenings, next door’s television drones low and muffled beyond the party wall, but their bedroom itself remains a bastion of calm: silent, by and large, save for the unbroken susurrus of their steady inhalations. 

The ubiquitous creak of worn-out box springs. 

The lub-dub ballad of the adagio heartbeat cushioning his cheek, soothing him into a trance-like inertia.

Elio doesn’t mind, however. Not if his indulgent chuckle is any indication. Just carries on humming his latest composition whilst weaving those clever fingers through Oliver’s sweat-damp hair: holding him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

“Close your eyes, amore mio,” he whispers at length; each caress an unspoken reassurance in the marginal space between them. “You’ve earned it, no?”

“I shouldn’t…” Oliver mutters, receiving a stubble-rough kiss to his muzzy forehead. “Those Ontology papers -”

“Aren’t due back ‘til Monday,” Elio reminds him: headstrong as always. “And you’ll have all weekend to grade them, regardless.” 

An admirable proposal: though easier said than done with such welcome distractions.

Today had been exhausting. To put it mildly. A thick layer of snow enveloped the Upper East Side when Oliver left for work; extending his regular ten minute commute to a miserable, half-hour schlep. His office radiator was on the fritz - everyone and everything demanded his undivided attention - and to make matters worse, he’d skipped lunch entirely due to an irate phone call from his parents. 

They still haven't forgiven him for cancelling his engagement. For refusing to be railroaded into the status quo. He’d honestly thought himself immune to their bigoted condemnation, but listening to his father rant about selfish perversions soon rendered his appetite nonexistent, and by the time he’d limped back to their Morningside apartment - feet throbbing, migraine building, throat scraped raw by the frigid, December air - Oliver would be the first to admit he was circling the proverbial drain.  

In any event, the rich aroma of basil and marinara greeted him like a warm hug when he locked the front door behind him; Mafalda having gifted them a folder of handwritten recipes to combat the mostruosità ingrassante of American cuisine. Elio - wearing the blue-and-white sweater Oliver’d purchased in Sicily - was curled up on the couch with a German copy of Don Quixote, yet shimmying free of his blanket burrito the shameless clothes thief marked his place in the dog-eared pages, returned the novel to their brimming bookcase, then pointed imperiously at the kitchen table.

“Siediti,” he’d commanded, ushering him into the nearest chair. 

“Eat,” he’d implored, plating up some Pasta alla Norma before pouring a glass of wine. 

Straightaway, Oliver’s stomach growled like one of Pavlov’s dogs, and grabbing his fork he’d speared a chunk of roasted eggplant - groaning in undisguised relief when Elio set about removing his water-logged shoes and socks as he offloaded his petty grievances between absent-minded bites. 

He has a vague recollection of downing the leftover pinot in a single swallow. 

Of an unwavering grip urging him to stand: guiding his leaden limbs towards the moonlit bedroom. 

His memories grow a little clearer after that, and Oliver smiles as he nuzzles the dusky peak of Elio’s nipple; breath escaping on a sigh when a calloused thumb skims the ridge of his gently rising rib cage. Smiles even wider at the blatant reminder of oil-slick palms bestowing a tender massage. The feathery brush of bee-stung lips mouthing southwards that preceded a truly exquisite orgasm.

He’d offered up a grumbling protest at Elio’s insistence he need not reciprocate - though Heaven knows he was far too drained to actually try - and snaking both arms around his partner’s slender waist he’d melted into a boneless embrace; arching like a satisfied tomcat as ghostly fingertips mapped the crest of his liquified spine.

“You’re out for the count,” Elio murmurs then, tracing the curve of his ticklish earlobe. The mottled birthmark adorning his shoulder. “So do as I say, d’accord? Rest. Récupérer. Let me take care of you for once…” 

Again, he means to argue. And very nearly does. But the Hispanic rhythms of their lively neighbourhood aren’t the only things dulled by the unseasonal blizzard, and as Oliver’s muted senses drag him further under, he finds himself immeasurably grateful for the man who’s no longer a dream.

No longer a memory.

His Elio. His malakh. The other half of his earthbound soul.

[dangermousie]

The biggest surprise of the first six eps for me is how much I like Life 2 Yan Lin and how I wish all the good things for him. Heck, I could see myself ship this rabidly if given half a chance.

He is such a sunshine puppy but not annoying in the least. I adore him.

Who knew...

Also, I will eat my nonexistent hat if our ML is not his lost cousin.

Getting serious Ling Buyi vibes here. I wonder if he's as bad at birthday parties.

Also, this made me choke.

I was going...ok, ok, ok, let's all spell v-a-m-p-i...

Meanwhile, FL:

Ummm WHUT. Now I know why old time people all died of hangnails. That is some...interesting medical diagnostic abilities. And no, it's not brought on by hypothermia slowing her brain because here she is again:

Ummm - what what what how is one of these sentences lead to another?

Though I got to say, when I saw that flashback:

He's gorgeous as hell and obviously competent between his vampi...errrr, dementia fits (just move to a warm climate) but to say he's a work in progress is to put it mildly. Ladies who want a turnkey partner look away.

PS Honestly, seeing that she fed him her own blood AND that she dragged a man who weighs twice as much for that long, I am cutting her some slack about his precious precious qin (which I am sure is connected to his tragically dead fam.) I mean, to expect her to lug him and the qin? No way no how. Her bedside manner could use a lot of help tho.

Ok, cool it, Ms Motivation!

[beestriker015]

Rika x male s/o headcanons

Everyone who knows Rika and s/o would tell you that they are absolutely made for each other.

S/o’s friendly and outgoing personality pairs really well with his girlfriend’s calm and confident nature.

Rika and s/o got together in their second year at the academy when s/o transferred there after his family moved to Paldea from the Kalos region.

Having been charmed by s/o’s warm and extroverted personality, Rika immediately began subtly flirting with him every chance she got, successfully leaving the handsome young man flustered every time.

Eventually, Rika stops with the flirting and bluntly asks s/o out.

“S/o, I think you’re really awesome and I want to go out with you. What do you say babe, wanna go out on a date with me?”

He accepted, much to Rika’s delight, and the two have been together ever since.

When they both graduated from the academy, s/o smiled ear to ear when his girlfriend was offered a spot as one of Paldea’s Elite 4.

“That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you babe! Though I’m not suprised, I already knew my gal was one of the bestest trainers ever!”

Rika chuckled at her s/o’s praise, while also trying to hide the faint blush on her face.

Now, you would think that being an Elite 4 member, Rika would struggle trying to find time to spend with her s/o due to her busy schedule right?

Nope.

Rika always finds time for her boyfriend, whether it be multiple phone calls all throughout the day, or s/o coming to pay her a visit at work occasionally.

One time, Rika was in the middle of a battle when s/o showed up for a visit and began cheering her on.

“Woo! Go, Rika! You got this babe!”

After the battle, Geeta told s/o he couldn’t come to visit anymore when there is a challenger, though that isn’t to say she wasn’t mildly amused by his antics.

Being Rika’s boyfriend means that s/o is well acquainted with the other Elite 4 members.

Poppy loves s/o and views him as her big brother, much like how she has a little sister/big sister relationship with Rika.

Hassel is easily the biggest proponent of s/o and Rika’s relationship, always going on and on about how great they are together.

“You two’s love for one another is stronger than a Draco Meteor from even the mightiest dragon!”

He exclaims before bursting into happy tears as Rika and s/o deadpan at the sight.

Despite Larry’s brooding and tired nature, no one has ever seen him smile as much as he does when s/o is around.

Seriously, s/o has such an infectious personality that even the most stone-hearted person can’t help but lighten up when he’s near them.

As for Geeta, she gets along fairly well with s/o.

While she does scold him occasionally for his antics when he visits, Geeta does generally like s/o and has a small smile on her face whenever he comes to the Pokémon League to visit Rika.

Jealousy is pretty much nonexistent between Rika and s/o, as she is too secure and confident to believe that s/o would ever leave her for someone else, and s/o is too positive minded to have any jealous thoughts.

If s/o would ever be hit on by someone else, Rika would take it in stride.

She understands very well that s/o is an incredibly hot guy that a lot of people would want to be with, but would smirk pridefully to herself fully knowing that s/o is hers.

Should someone ever hit on Rika, s/o wouldn’t think too much of it, as he knows that despite her being a massive flirt, Rika would never flirt with anyone other than him.

However, if the flirting would ever get to a point where it gets uncomfortable for either of them, the other will step in and put an end to it.

When she’s not busy with her Elite 4 duties, Rika and s/o are practically connected at the hip, whether they be battling each other or are simply spending time together alone in their shared home.

Dates often involve Rika and s/o going someplace peaceful and quiet, not just as a way for Rika to unwind after a long day of battling, but also so she can have s/o all to herself without any distractions.

“I missed this babe. There’s no one around, people or pokémon. That means you and I can enjoy each other’s company for as long as we want.”

“Sounds good to me babe. As long as I get to spend time with you Rika, it doesn’t matter to me where we are.”

One thing Rika really loves about s/o, besides everything, is how much he adores her Clodsire.

There has been multiple times when Rika has caught s/o giving her Clodsire a belly rub and feeding him berries, causing her to gush at the sight every time.

“That’s so adorable s/o!”

He blushes and chuckles.

“I can’t help it Rika, I love this little guy. He baby!”

S/o exclaims while holding Clodsire like Simba from the Lion King before he gently places him back on the ground.

“I swear s/o, I think I’m falling more and more in love with you everyday.”

Rika says before getting pulled into a kiss by her boyfriend, surprising her before she sinks fully into the kiss.

They both pull away for air as s/o smiles warmly at his girlfriend.

“I love you too Rika.”

She grins and drags s/o off to the living room so they can chill and watch movies together, Clodsire watching his trainer and her boyfriend with a carefree smile on his face.