#like writing four pages is super hard and no one should ever do it

[thehusbandoden]

You Flinch During an Argument -Amajiki Tamaki

A/n: so sorry this took so long! I had a good thing going but my power went out and it got erased </3

I do think this one's better though. Technically this is the third legitimate try <33

Edit: I'm trying out a new format for my info.. is it better or worse O.o

General info:

Wc: 1,176 words | angst to fluff/comfort | Character/s: Tamaki Amajiki

Warnings!: loneliness, snapping, flinching, a little bit of crying. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi

The night was cold as you sleepily flipped through your journal, not wanting to write but knowing you should. The entries from the last three months have been short and filled with a dull ache of lonliness. They lacked the usual length and warmth you poured into the pages, ranting on about how sweet your timid Tamaki is and how much you adore him and his ever lasting warmth.

The rambling would go on and on, but now you wrote a paragraph or two about how your life has been 'fine' and that Tamaki has been super busy- if you wrote at all.

There was one or two that held multiple paragraphs of your frustration and not knowing who to blame- knowing that it wasn't Tamaki's fault that there weren't enough heroes to protect the innocent of your large city.

Tamaki was doing his best to protect the defenseless, and you admired that- but the dull ache that sat in the pit of your stomache couldn't go ignored much longer.

Sighing, you closed your journal, standing up from your desk to head to the living room, deciding to talk to Tamaki tonight.

~~

Four hours later Tamaki walked through the front door, tall form drained from exhaustion as he made his way inside, already stripping off his hero gear.

"Tama?" You call, poking your head out from the living room to sadly smile at your Tamaki.

"Oh. Hey y/n." Tamaki yawned, dropping both his cape and mask onto the floor as he dragged his feet towards your room, tossing his belt onto the kitchen table before moving onto taking off his gear further.

"Wait, Tamaki!" You call, stopping at the bottom of the stairs as Tamaki paused, looking back at you.

"Yes bunny?"

"Ummm.. can we talk?" You ask, smiling at the nickname Tamaki gave you the first week into your marriage- though he later admitted that he thought of it when you two were simply friends but was too shy up until that point-.

"Baby, I'm really tired.. is it important?"

"Yes.. it'll only take five to ten mintues."

"Okay baby, where do you want to talk?" Tamaki yawned.

"How about the living room? I can give you a shoulder massage while we talk if you like." You smile, causing Tamaki's eyes to shine as he smiled down at you.

"I'd like that."

~

After you were both situated you started by squirting some lotion on your hands before spreading it onto Tamaki's left shoulder, immediately noticing his many knots.

"Okay bunny, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh.. so I know that you're working really hard and are really tired.. and I also know that we haven't had us time in a while.. so I was wondering if you could take a day or two off? Not much, just a day or two would be fine."

Tamaki was silent as you bit your lip in anticipation, hoping you didn't upset him somehow.

"Y/n.. are you serious?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you know how many people might be dying right now? I can't just laze about spending time with you because you're feeling lonely. Why don't you go hang out with some friends?"

"T-that's not the same.."

"How so?"

"I want to spend time with you Tamaki. You know, my husband?" You scoff, starting to get annoyed.

"And I want to spend time saving people y/n, why don't you stop being sensitve and start thinking about other people?"

"But I've been holding my feelings back for months! Please! I'm just asking for a day- even a few hours is fine!"

"Y/n. No. Now if you're done I'd like to get to bed."

Jerking his shoulder away from your touch, Tamaki started standing up.

"But wait Tama-"

"No. I'm disappointed in your selfishness y/n."

"Wai-"

"Stop."

"Pl-"

"I said stop!" Tamaki hissed, turning around to face you within a second.

At the sudden movement and change of tone you flinched back, tears gathering in your eyes as you stared up at Tamaki, eyes wide.

As Tamaki glared down at you he froze as you flinched, heart immediately breaking as he saw the tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Y-y-y/n I-"

"I-it's okay Tamaki.. you don't need to say anything. I get it. I-I'll just go to bed now."

"B-but y-y/n.." Tamaki whimpered, guilt consuming him as he watched you walk away.

"Y-y/n.. I'm sorry.."

~

You quickly got in bed after hurrying up the stairs, wiping at your eyes as you clung to your pillow, staying as far away from Tamaki's side as possible.

~~

You awoke the next morning to the sun shining in your eyes.

Wincing, you turned around to feel for Tamaki, forgetting all about last night and the dreadful few months.

After feeling how cold Tamaki's side of the bed you sighed, memories coming to you in flashes as you stared at his side of the bed.

Wiping away the stray tears, you got out to get ready for a day worse than the one yesterday.

After getting dressed you made your way down stairs, deciding to get on top of your piling to-do list to help get your mind off of Tamaki.

Stepping into the kitchen, you stepped back at the sight of a lavish breakfast filled with all of your favorites spread across the newly cleaned kitchen table.

"T-Tamaki.." you whimper, looking at your beloved with tearful eyes as he guilty studied you with his indigo orbs.

"Y-y/n I-"

You interrupted Tamaki as you rushed into his arms, clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for comfort from the man you've grown to adore.

"Y/n I- I'm so so sorry." Tamaki mumbled, burying his face into your hair to mask the tears falling from his eyes.

"I forgive you Tamaki, I know you were just over worked and didn't mean to take it out on me."

"I promise you- I really didn't me an to, a-and I feel terrible about it."

"Shhh it's okay baby.. I already forgave you. We just need to reflect on what we did wrong tonight and make sure not to do it in the future. Next time, I'll wait until you're less exhausted, and you'll make sure to remind me that you're too tired, mkay?"

"O-okay.."

"Now baby.. why are you home? Don't you have work?"

"Nope, I took the next two weeks and a half off. I know that it won't make up for the months of loneliness, but I'll try to be better, I"ll take less shifts and make sure to only leave for emergencies when I'm off the clock.

"Alright, that's a good start."

"I may need today and possibly tomorrow to sleep.. but I cleaned the entire house -besides our room- and looked at your to- do list and did a few of the bigger things on there.. oh and I made us breakfast.."

"Tamaki. I love you. So, so much."

"I love you too bunny. I'm really rea-"

"Shh, I already said I forgive you. Now, let's eat!"

~~~

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[jonathanrook]

okay so i’ve settled on four main problems with scene’s character, so let’s break those down quickly.

how to solve the scene problem

warning: this is nearly four thousand words long. also, at one point i just start rewriting scenes and i promise i can write but this is not going to prove that. style matching literal garbage is my excuse what else can i say.

1) her appearance

i understand why scene looks nothing like a scene kid: the costuming and makeup departments wanted lainey to stay cute bc that’d be a better portfolio piece, and traditional scene kid aesthetics can be kinda unappealing to the ~uninitiated.~ this honestly really shows in s2 when they completely forgo any attempts to make scene look scene and instead make her a normal pretty girl who likes colors.

frankly, i think wardrobe does a good enough job, but her style steers a little too close to emo or even normie most of the time. personally, i think she wears pants too often and nowhere near enough tutus (she wears NO TUTUS in the ENTIRE SERIES. the fucking. scene fashion staple). her wedding dress should have been way more over the top and had a super poofy tutu to match. here’s a polyvore style moodboard of what i mean:

and if they didn’t want in her strapless dresses? toss a neon tank top underneath and boom problem solved.

also, i’ve already said that her hair could’ve been solved by putting another wig over her hair but i’m going to elaborate in case any hair/makeup department folks who need to dress a scene kid are reading this:

get a bob length wig of any quality that matches her real hair color and chop the everloving fuck out of it. make sure it has volume in the top and swooping bangs.

pin up ~½ of her real hair and just pile it on her head. attach colorful clip in extensions at the top of her real hair; it doesn’t matter what length they are as long as they’re not longer than her real hair. don’t forget raccoon stripes. you can put some short clip ins in the wig too if you want.

put the wig on her head, no wig cap needed. if it sits too high no it doesn’t that’s just more volume and the swoopy bangs cover the forehead seam.

congrats you have scene queen hair.

also her entire upper eyelid should have been caked with black eyeshadow i don’t make the rules. why did they never smoke out her lower lash line.

2) her personality

not only does scene not look the part, she doesn’t act it either. granted, from what i remember the scene culture is more defined by music and aesthetics than behavior, but it’s not populated by, ehm, babies.

while i appreciate scene’s excitability, it needed to be toned down and reserved for times when it would, well, make sense. her sense of humor should have been dryer and, frankly, more crude? like, i genuinely don’t know how the f*nes managed to draw “uwu baby who doesn’t know anything about the horrors of the world uwu” from a music genre almost defined by themes of sex, drugs, and violence. even aesthetically, motifs of skulls/bones, knives/razors/blades in general, blood, and just straight up tits were all popular.

another thing that always pissed me off was the fact that her and techno and dubstep never got along. scene culture falls under the rave culture umbrella, and to make her literally afraid of dubstep music made absolutely zero sense. she didn’t have to be best friends with them, but maybe they could have met up every once in a while to trade kandi (which could be funny if the three of them all had drastically different aesthetic preferences so it’s like a secret santa party with your relatives who make an active effort to not know anything about you). maybe she also sorta speaks dubstep but not really, so whenever she talks to him she always gets something wrong and either ends up hitting on him or offending him (maybe that could be a side plot, where he thinks she has a crush on him but she Really Doesn’t and he Really Doesn’t either so things get awkward? i know i hate miscommunication as a plot device too but i’m trying to script doctor a fucking. f*ne bros show i think we could live with a little of it).

there are things i like about scene's interests, like the avatars. they’re a clear rip of games like gatchalife/imvu/movie star planet, all of which are arguably levels of scene-kid-approved, but her enjoyment of them wasn’t handled like a 3edgy5me teenager creating wish fulfillment stories, but like an eight year old playing webkinz. again, this alone isn’t an issue, and i think the juxtaposition could have been really funny if handled differently. for instance, maybe all her avatars are named after her favorite band members, and she uses them to act out salacious fanfic, but when 4chan shows up to kill them all, we also learn that she actually takes really good care of them (like, setting bedtimes for them, making sure they’re always full and happy, etc.), so them getting killed in and of itself reveals another layer of her character.

i’m also not opposed to scene not practically understanding relationships, but it should have been played more like, say, richie in ch2: he’s clearly a repressed 40 year old virgin but that’s not gonna stop all of his dialogue from being sex jokes. for instance, she could always be hitting on indie in obvious and borderline inappropriate ways, but then, in s2, when jeff starts to show interest in her, she’s completely out of her depth, turning to her pop culture circle for help (which could lead itself to some reference humor, like her using out of context and wildly unsuitable song lyrics when texting him to get her points across).

this leads me well into

3) her relationships/the college arc

ngl i think jeff is the best character in the show, and i do like the arc with their relationship. but with the changes we just made to scene’s character some issues arise, so let’s fix those. aka i’m about to rewrite the last three sitcom episodes of the show.

idk if this should have been in the personality section but fuck you her first scene in college sucked. having her squeal when the professor calls her name in roll is meant to establish her as a weird outsider, but it could have been handled better. i think scene needs a generic myspace handle name that she goes by outside of work but is also nothing like her real name. so we’d get something like this:

professor: haish? norma haish? scene: that’s me, but everyone outside of work calls me “maddy massacre [or some other equally horrifically gaudy scene username].” a hush falls over the room as the other students in class exchange mocking and disgusted glances. some snicker or giggle. professor: i’m not calling you that. he looks directly into the camera. professor (cont.): i don’t have to call her that, right? cut to theme song.

the exact same effect is achieved, along with a classic f*ne favorite fourth wall break, but now scene performs the stereotypical scene persona much better.

similarly, her first conversation with jeff should have gone differently, esp since this is the second season and we’re humanizing our characters a bit now. i’m thinking he could have had a different last name that’s instead lifted from a big pop punk figure because for a show based on personified music genres they really didn’t do anything with that concept at all.

professor: way? jeff way? jeff: here. scene leans over to jeff, getting way too into his personal bubble. scene: way? like gerard way? jeff laughs. jeff: yea, but we’re not related. scene: a shame. jeff: totally; i love my chemical romance. scene’s face lights up. scene: me too! jeff: i even named my favorite avatar after them. do you play avatars? scene squeaks involuntarily, at a loss for words. it’s loud enough to draw attention from her classmates. cut to next scene.

i recognize the same exchange could work with the original set-up, but unfortunately the original set-up makes literally zero sense, and we get the same information out of this one as we did in the original with the two still conversing like real people, esp since jeff isn’t supposed to be ~zany~ like the staff; he really is just some guy.

furthermore, their relationship doesn’t develop naturally, and we need more scenes with them to build up the finale. i also think things would work a lot better if we didn’t know scene had never been kissed until said finale, or a couple of episodes prior. this being a revelation, or acting as a twist of sorts, helps add context to her actions while also upping the stakes of whether or not they’re going to kiss. as it stands, with us knowing the whole time that she’s never been kissed, that fact doesn’t add as much tension as it theoretically should. this is, more or less, the way their relationship should have played out for maximum effect:

i’ve already described the scene(s) when they meet, so let’s continue from there. in the show, the very next scene with them is him asking her to study, and we need a buffer. i that scene starts with the professor starting a debate in class and everyone basically agrees on an idea, but scene has the dissenting opinion. maybe she’s even blatantly wrong. while everyone else is laughing at her, jeff tries to bridge the gap and calmly explain why he disagrees with scene. after he shares his idea, the professor dismisses class, and we see all the students leaving while making fun of scene. of course, when jeff calls her aside she assumes he’s gonna mock her too, but he doesn’t, and asks her to study.

the next scene where we see them studying is also fine, but we’re getting rid of the pervy professor joke in favor of just ending the scene at scene saying “i need an internal monologue so bad” because i am barking grr at the f*nes i’m after them. also when he asks her out the first time she should run away like a normal person instead of...whatever the fuck actually happens. an, “oh sorry my boss is, like, blowing up my phone i have to go,” would suffice queen.

i digress. the next scene that i think should have any substantial changes is when his avatar first kisses her avatar. at this point i don’t think she’s seriously mentioned that she hasn’t had her first kiss yet to jeff specifically and we need to keep it that way for now. i know she’s admitted it to other characters before but those scenes should get cut too what the hell. after she accepts the avatar kiss request she should bring up that that was her avatar’s first kiss. jeff reacts to this like it’s a little weird, and even makes a comment that implies that both his avatar and him have done a lot more than that. scene doesn’t react to it and we move onto the next scene.

at this point i should note that every time she turns down a kiss from him she should give an excuse that relates to them being in a public/semi-public space, like school/work. the scene where they’re in her room together should be altered moved to later, after their avatars have already kissed. this is important because a) after jeff started working at mymusic the fact that they go to college together is almost completely ignored and b) this is the first time we see them together in a private location. they can even have some dialogue that further highlights that they’ve never really hung out in private before.

scene and jeff enter scene’s room. they’re both carrying their book bags. scene: sorry i haven’t invited you over sooner, i just haven’t had much free time lately. jeff: hey, don’t worry about it. i’m happy to be anywhere as long as it’s with you. the two sit down. scene smiles and reaches for her book bag. scene: we should probably start studying now. it’s not long before we have to get to work. jeff: yea, sure, but this is the first time we’ve really been alone? we can study anywhere, isn’t there anything else you’d rather do? jeff leans forward to kiss scene, but she stops him. scene: i don’t know if i’m ready for that. jeff doesn’t pull away; their faces are still very close. jeff: that’s no problem; we could just make out? scene: no, that’s what i meant. jeff turns away from her, pulling away completely. jeff: oh. scene: i’ve just never kissed anyone before. long pause. scene scrambles with her words, trying to recover. scene (cont.): it’s not that i don’t like you! i really like you, i just imagined it being… jeff: special? scene: yea. scene turns away; they’re both left sitting on the edge of her bed, books in hand, facing the camera. cut to next scene.

the next scene with the two of them is when jeff avatar proposes, and then of course the avatar wedding.

this is where i have to do my Melvin Tangent™ because i can’t in good faith conclude this without acknowledging that he’s realistically the best endgame match for scene but also the f*nes couldn’t have set it up any worse.

first things first, scene needs to actively flirt with melvin starting in the first season. this is never taken seriously. she’s just that kind of person now. in the shows where lainey actually gets to make decisions in regards to her character, we see her portraying scene as someone who’s very touchy-feely, and i support this. in #yesmycanon she is constantly grabbing arms, leaning into people, hugging them with little warning, and since her and melvin literally work next to each other, he’s often at the mercy of this. we also see in canon that scene’s the only character who never hated melvin (even nerdcore only starts to warm up to him in the rotfl:brbttyl:) arc). all this combined leads melvin to start to like scene in a visible and obvious way as early as season one.

i’m also gonna go ahead and make nerdcore/melvin/scene an ot3 and get her involved more directly in nerdcore’s coming out arc. melvin being nerdcore’s sole confidant queer codes him (and i believe that was intentional as well), and that’s not a problem aside from the fact that he ends up with a woman with no indication that he’s attracted to her/women in general at all. if we toss scene into their friendship that gives scene more time to bond with melvin, but also just gives nerdcore another friend, which he so desperately needs (and the two of them get along when we do see them talk so it’s really a shame).

there are two changes i’m going to make to how melvin’s crush on scene is handled once he gets to the acid factory. for one, he’s going to have lots of photos on his corkboard, not just the one of scene. they’ll be photos of him and his coworkers all together, with a focus on nerdcore and scene. honestly, the cast took tons of bts photos together, so those could just be used? if i were one of the directors, we’d film melvin’s cubicle scenes on the last day, and on the first day of filming that season i’d make an announcement like, “hey, jack and lainey, we want to fill flowchart’s cubicle with pictures of him and scene together, so can you guys take a lot of fun selfies together in costume?” and they’d be like, “totally,” and that problem is completely solved. hell, there can even be a couple of just scene, as long as they’re her doing something interesting and could have reasonably been taken by melvin.

the second thing i’d do is, in the scene where reggie comes in and melvin’s lurking on scene’s twitter, i’d have him on the phone with her instead. start the scene with a simple, “i’m gonna have to call you back, scene. it was great talking to you!” and bam that problem’s solved why are the f*nes so fucking stupid.

anyway back to the finale. i have exactly two (2) complaints about the jeff/scene scenes in this episode and those are 1) their argument should have built up a little more. she could’ve been a little more low-key mad before she started screaming at him but that’s a nitpick. in general though it gets a little zero to a hundred but like i said. 2) get rid of the harry potter reference (and all pop culture references but fuck that one in particular.) it doesn’t work no real person would ever use it there we don’t need it.

scene: how could you do that to me? jeff: c’mon, they’re just avatars. scene: just avatars? just avatars? i thought this wedding meant something! jeff: yea, it meant that i like you, but you blow everything out of proportion! i would never do anything from that silly game in real life. scene: why should i believe you when you have a whole separate life without me? jeff scoffs. scene (cont.): you ruined our wedding and smooch’s [i think that’s still her avatar’s name; it was the first season and idk if she renamed the ones indie remade for her] first kiss… jeff: there you go with that "first kiss" thing again! i don’t know why i even bother with you; you’ve built it up so much in your head that you’re bound to be let down. scene: no, because i’m waiting for the perfect person, and the perfect time– jeff cuts scene off by kissing her. it lasts long enough to be awkward before she pushes him away, mouth hung open in shock. jeff: there. first kiss over with. no more pressure. another pause. scene [low, slowly]: get out. jeff: oh, please. scene [gradually getting louder, angrier]: get. out. i am breaking up with you forever. you are no longer my boyfriend. jeff: whatever. i can’t even imagine how long it would have taken to get to third base with you.

then i’d cut the joke about scene not knowing what third base is because remember we covered this and that doesn’t make any sense. instead jeff just leaves and she collapses in a heap yadda yadda.

(also i’d style her hair so her tracks aren't showing oh baby what did they do to you.)

okay so now we’ve covered the jeff/scene relationship arc so it’s time to move on to the conclusion of the scenechart arc which also sucks who would’a thunk it. the problem here of course is that melvin literally sexually assaults her as a means of comforting her after she just got sexually assaulted. also she deadnames him during this conversation which is also really sexy and totally not a surefire way to kill the mood. so if we just rewrite their exchange, along with the previous changes made to their relationship, everything’s fine and there are no problems at all :)

(also, to give credit where credit is due, an old mutual gave me a suggestion regarding this scene that i’ll be using in my rewrite. unfortunately i don’t remember their name or whole url, but s/o liongirl. couldn’t do this without you.)

flowchart: ...and those are the kind of traits that are gonna make some guy really lucky one day. scene: thanks flowchart. i just always imagined my first kiss to be so amazing, but he stole that from me. i wanted it to be memorable but with being left at the alter and breaking up with my boyfriend and the sight of metal covered in afterbirth it was memorable for all the wrong reasons! pause. flowchart sighs he leans in to scene and lets out a breathy laugh. flowchart [hushed]: well, it’s funny you mention metal, because he was my first kiss. scene: what? no way, i don’t believe you. flowchart laughs. flowchart: no, remember? when he was afraid i was trying to date rayna and wanted to scare me off. scene: yea, but, that was your first kiss? he nods solemnly. flowchart: mmhmm. and it sucks, don’t get me wrong. but you know what? one day i’m gonna have another first kiss, with someone i love and who matters a hell of a lot more than him. and we’ll laugh about metal, and i’ll remember her instead. by the time flowchart finishes talking, him and scene have leaned into each other, their faces almost touching. scene: flowchart? flowchart murmurs inquisitively. scene (cont.): can i remember you instead? flowchart smiles. flowchart: of course. the two kiss.

and then we get the nonsense with techno and dubstep and the series ends and there is no more sexual assault in the mymusic universe :) and everything is perfect and fine :)

4) why the fuck is scene a literal child

i am so glad t*mblr isn’t dead yet bc where else could i say “i want to hunt the f*nes for sport” in earnest and not be kicked off bc i want to hunt the f*nes for sport.

they wrote a character who straight up acts like an eight year old, but is like, idk 24 (i think that’s how old jack was in 2012), but when doing auditions no woman that age was able to convincingly be a fucking eight year old but then! luckily! a literal child walks in (according to the incredibly reliable [/s] famousbirthdays.com lainey is not significantly older than lia, the actress who plays METAL’S LITERAL DAUGHTER) and the f*nes were saved bc she was a convincing child (i wonder why). anyway let’s remember what scene goes through as a character now real quick:

her love interest is the oldest main character in the show (aman who is old enough to be her literal father) in a way that’s hinted at being at being reciprocated/the intended endgame

outside of her boss, she’s the love interest of two (2) other characters, the most of any of the cast (excluding idol’s speed dating plotline)

she’s routinely traumatized, with a majority of those instances being played for laughs (see: the death of her parents)

she gets sexually assaulted

and i understand, rationally, that the “joke” is that the interns get abused (see: melvin), and i wouldn’t have as much of an issue with that idea if a) she was played by someone jack’s age and b) she wasn’t written with the mindset of a child. she’s not just childlike (that’s not an issue, and most of my favorite characters are quite childlike in their own right), she truly doesn’t understand many basic concepts on an adult level, which gives me major creep vibes.

5) in conclusion

someone please hire me to showrun your project.

me, yesterday: i think i'm done talking about scene/mymusic for now

my brain while falling asleep last night: you will now imagine in vivid detail exactly how to solve the scene problem

me, sighing: okay *starts writing a literal essay on all the problems with her character and details descriptions of how to fix them while keeping in style with the mymusic universe*

[shycoconutt]

I Need You (Kakashi x Reader Smut)

A/n: Oh boy do I got some smutty smut for you. This is my first time writing smut and I think I did okay! Please let me know what you think and, as always, feel free to send some requests my way! 🤍

Summary: You find yourself unbelievably horny waiting for Kakashi to get home from work. The night goes exactly as planned.

Word Count: 4200

Warnings: NSFW ( minors, there's the door -> 🚪), fem!reader, vaginal sex, rough sex, doggy style, cunnilingus

Gods, why am I so horny?

Sat in the reading chair in the corner of your and Kakashi’s bedroom, you find yourself unable to focus on the new novel you picked up at the bookstore this morning. Each time you try to focus on the words in front of you, your eyes start to drift off the page and fall on your bed across the room. The bed where Kakashi and you have had sex now maybe a dozen times. You two have been platonic partners for years, but it wasn’t until recently where you both allowed your feelings to blossom into romance. Some would say that your relationship with Kakashi came on fast, but those who say that don’t truly know either of you.

After the war, and after keeping your feelings for each other bottled down for years, Kakashi took you on a vacation to a quaint village on the outskirts of Konoha. During your stay, you two could finally relax and find comfort in each other. The future seemed less uncertain, and you allowed yourself to open up in ways you never had before. You both knew you loved each other, that you were meant for each other, but the stress of war and the lack of knowledge that either of you would come out alive prevented anything from happening. The last thing either of you wanted to do was take the other’s heart six feet under.

It was the third night on the trip when he proposed to you. Kakashi and you were naked together in the natural hot spring, embracing each other in the water. The words he spoke to you that night are etched in your brain, never to be forgotten.

“My whole life I’ve been fighting; fighting for Konoha, fighting for my team, fighting for our friends, fighting my demons, fighting the truth, and fighting the feelings I have for you. I never understood why it was so hard to escape you, but it isn’t until now where I finally understand. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. Our love is so natural, so pure. It pains me to know that our reality has muddled it for so long. You are the best thing that’s ever come into my life, and the gods only know how thankful I am that you have been by my side through it all. Everything I’ve ever gone through, every challenge I’ve had to overcome, you’ve guided me along the way. I used to think I was undeserving of your love, but now that we both are standing here, bruised and battered by our past, I realize that it was always supposed to be this way. You and me. Forever.”

That was the night you and Kakashi shared your first kiss. The night you first held each other in a naked embrace. The night you touched the skin normally concealed under each other's clothes. The night you trailed kisses down his chest, to his stomach, his hip, and up his shaft. The night you grabbed him in your hand and stroked him while looking into his eyes. The night you felt his tongue draw across your nipples. The night you felt him suck and nibble at your neck. The night you felt his fingers, god his fingers, trace up your wet heat to rub onto your most sensitive spot. The night he held onto your hip and slid into your tenderness. The night you whispered sweet nothings in each other's ears while he pumped into you. The night you made love, four times.

It’s been a week since your mini-vacation of ultimate bliss. Immediately after arriving back to the village, you both moved out of your individual apartments and moved into the Hatake estate, per Kakashi’s request. When you asked him if this is truly what he wanted, he assured you that this was the place he wanted to make a home with you and your future children. He also liked that the estate is largely removed from the Hokage tower, where he will be spending the majority of his time in the future. Renovations are far from over, but your bedroom was the first area of the house to be set up. It’s your shared sanctuary, and to be completely honest, you’ve never felt more at home.

The only word to describe this week between you and Kakashi is passionate. Even with opposite schedules, you both make time for one another every day. You’ve been insanely busy at your new job that you acquired post-war, spearheading the mental health resource center for war veterans and shinobi still in active duty. Kakashi is busy shadowing Tsunade while she sorts out post-war rehabilitation plans for the village. This is your first day off and, unfortunately, Kakashi is out doing future Hokage duties. Though frustrating, both of you are super understanding of each other's roles in this village and you respect that time with each other may be limited in the coming years. That’s why any chance you get, you both check in on each other throughout your day. Whether it’s offering to take his ninken on a walk while he’s in the office, or him bringing you breakfast when you get to work, you find opportunities to be present in each other’s daily lives.

The evenings, however, are a whole other story. Both of you are usually home a little after eight, and you’ve adapted to having late dinners with each other. After cleaning up, the rest of the evening is spent wrapped up in each other. One thing you weren’t expecting about being with Kakashi is that he is constantly touching you when you are alone together. His hands are either on your thighs, wrapped in your hair, caressing your face, squeezing your arms, massaging your shoulders, touching your lips, or any other way he can get them on you. You crave his touch, so to say that you enjoy this side of him is an understatement. Not only does Kakashi adore touching you, he also adores being touched.

Touching leads to caressing, caressing leads to groping, and groping leads to passionate lovemaking.

Well, geez (y/n), maybe if you stopped daydreaming about Kakashi’s hands all over you then you wouldn’t be this goddamn horny.

Here’s the thing with you and Kakashi’s newfound sex life. You are in the early stages. All the sex you have is all about romance, making up for the lost time, and finally expressing your feelings with your body. It’s amazing and you wouldn’t change your lovemaking for the world.

But right now, you don’t desire lovemaking. You desire rough, animalistic, dirty, dirty sex.

The kind of sex that makes you shudder in desire and fear.

The kind of sex that makes in between your legs sore the next day.

Realizing you’ve been daydreaming for the past fifteen minutes, you close your novel shut and toss it aside. You look over at the clock on your nightstand to find that it’s almost time for Kakashi to be home. Usually, you would already be cooking something up for dinner, but you have a feeling that any food you make would just get cold. Eating is not your priority right now, Kakashi is.

A devious smile forms at your lips when you consider what you plan on doing with him when he walks through the front door. Should you take him right there? Get down on your knees and beg for him? Run a warm, candle-lit bath? Put whip cream on your tits and tell him that you’re his dinner? All great options, but none are really representative of how much you need him.

In one swift movement, you are up off your chair and running towards your closet. He could be here any minute and there’s no time to waste. Once there, you take in how disorganized your closet is. You have yet to unpack any of your clothes, as all you’ve worn the past week is your jonin uniform and your pajamas. Rummaging through the boxes sprawled out on the floor, you finally find which box you are looking for. The box looks like any other box, but written on the side in marker is the word intimates.

Bingo.

One might think you are a sex fiend with all the lingerie you own, but that is far from reality. The truth is, lingerie has always made you feel sexy. Most of all, it’s just so pretty. You love the power it gives you. You love the fact that no one knows that some days you are wearing the world’s skimpiest lingerie underneath your uniform. It’s like you have an edge on someone that they don't even realize. Also, when you did happen to end up in bed with a man, you were over-prepared. The look on their faces when you stripped off your clothes was priceless. It was your way of telling them that you expected them to want you.

There are way too many options to choose from, and you find yourself starting to panic as time passes on. You know you’re overthinking this as, honestly, Kakashi would love anything you put on. Some things you know about Kakashi are that his favorite color is blue, he loves your thighs and is obsessed with how soft your skin is. Therefore, you should obviously go for the baby blue lace and silk set. It includes a lace balconette bra, a thong connected to thigh garters, and a silk robe to go over the top. After putting it on and taking a look at yourself in the mirror, you knew you made the right choice.

Before finding a comfortable spot on the bed, you quickly grab some baby oil and rub it all over your body. The oil will allow Kakashi to slide his hands all over you effortlessly, which is exactly what you need. Satisfied, you grab your book and lay on top of your made bed. You weren’t planning on actually reading, but you think your casualness while wearing such a sexy outfit will have Kakashi’s head spinning.

So there you were, belly down, ass out, feet intertwined, book in hand, when you heard the lock click and the front door open. Perfect timing.

You could hear Kakashi kick off his shoes and take off his vest as he walked into your home. Usually, you would be standing in the kitchen where he would come and give you a warm embrace and kiss you until you told him that he has to eat dinner. But, you're not there, and you can sense his confusion.

“Where’s my babygirl?” Kakashi’s voice projects throughout the house, a hint of concern in his voice. You smile at the thought of the pout that’s probably on his face right now.

“Sorry sweetheart, I’ve been caught up in my new book. I’m in the bedroom,” you call back to him.

You hear what sounds like a sigh of relief as his footsteps make their way down your hallway in the direction of your bedroom, the sounds of pieces of his uniform dropping off of him every few steps. You make sure to keep your head turned to the door so you can take in his reaction to your state.

“Oh, the new book you got this morning? How is it? Let me guess, you already finished-”

An indescribable feeling shoots through your whole body as Kakashi enters your bedroom. He just finished pulling his mask down his face, as his hand is still caught to the fabric pooling around his neck. With a smile on your face, you soak in his expression as he’s stood in the entrance of your room, a deep blush forming on his cheeks and his mouth still agape in mid-sentence. His eyes dart back and forth from your face to the bottom of your ass that’s hanging out of your silk robe.

Damn, you really did that (y/n).

“What’s wrong, Kashi?” You say in the most innocent voice you can muster. You bat your eyelashes and flip over to sit up so he can get a good look at you. You let your book drop off the bed and land on the floor.

There’s another pause before Kakashi slowly walks towards you on the bed. Without speaking, he reaches a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you up so you're kneeling on the bed as he stands in front of you. His dark eyes bore into yours as both of his hands drop to your thighs. Slowly, he grazes them up over your hips, your waist, up the sides of your breasts, to wrap around the back of your neck. You can feel the hairs on your skin stand in anticipation. With his hands still wrapped around you, he brings his head down to you and grazes his mouth on your jawline. From there he plants small kisses up the side of your face until he reaches your ear where he nibbles before speaking to you in a strained, low tone.

“You’re a very dangerous woman, (y/n).”

He must have felt you shudder because you could feel him smile against your cheek. Standing up straight again, Kakashi’s hands drop to the tie of your robe around your waist.

“May I?” he asks, giving you the sexiest look you’ve ever seen. Kakashi has been so effortlessly attractive since you met when you were young. Having these intimate moments with him almost seems surreal.

“Of course, Hatake,” you smile up at him.

Taking the tie in his hands, he starts to unravel the knot keeping your robe together. Once loose, he lets it fall over your shoulders and off your body completely.

After a few moments taking in the sight of you, Kakashi lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head.

“You’re so out of my league,” he confesses to you.

You let out a small giggle.

“Absolutely not,” you protest.

Without missing a beat, Kakashi grabs on to you and tosses you back on the bed so you are laying down underneath him. One of his hands wraps around the back of your head while the other cups your breast. Pulling the fabric of your bra down, he kneads your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. One of his knees lands in between your legs and he brings it up to press on to you. You can’t help the moan that escapes as you feel him all around you.

“So what’s the deal?” Kakashi teases. “I leave you alone in the house for one day and I come back to this?” He looks down at your body and back up again. “Where did you get this outfit, hm?”

“Oh baby,” you start teasing him back, “I guess one thing you don’t know about me yet is that I wear lingerie like this all the time.”

“Oh really?” he questions.

“Yep, all the time.” You smirk at what you’re about to say next. “Actually, remember that one time we were stationed together in the Earth country for a month for that S-rank assassination mission?”

Kakashi nods, confused where you’re going with this story.

“We let our guards down and almost hooked up the last night before we came back to the village.”

“I remember.”

“Well,” you pause for effect, “guess what I was wearing underneath my uniform that night?”

Kakashi remains silent, brows furrowed waiting for you. You smile at him deviously as you say your answer.

“This.”

Kakashi lets out what can only be described as an aroused, defeated groan when you utter your confession. He quickly comes back down and your mouths crash together in a heated frenzy. It isn’t until now when you realize that his bulge is hard against your leg, asking to be broken free from the confinement of his pants. While making out, you reach down and slip your hand under his waistband and grab onto his throbbing cock, stroking it in your hand. Although rock hard, the skin of his cock is soft and velvety.

Kakashi moans in your mouth when you make contact with him, but quickly escapes your grasp and gets up off of you. Sprawled out on the bed, you watch him strip down naked in front of you, starting with his shirt, then his pants and briefs. His body is truly something to marvel at, as decades of being a ninja have carved his body into perfection. You love the way his member slaps against his lower stomach when he pulls it from its confinement, excited and eager for you. He stands for a moment, contemplating what to do with you.

“I don’t want to take that pretty outfit off of you just yet. I guess I’ll just have to work around it for now,” Kakashi says as he stands at the end of the bed. Grabbing your ankles, he pulls you towards him and bends your legs upward until your knees meet your chest. Holding both of your legs up with one hand, he takes the other and spanks your ass cheek with a loud slap. You whimper from the sting while he rubs the mark he left. Kakashi sucks in another loud breath.

“Ugh, (y/n), you look so good for me.”

Before you can respond, Kakashi takes your thong and slides it over so you are exposed to him. Getting down on his knees, he brings his face to your glistening cunt and flattens his tongue against it. There he gives you one long lick up your slit to taste you. A moan erupts from him as your wetness meets his taste buds.

“You’re already so wet for me baby,” Kakashi breathes before going in to suck on you.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you confess through your moans. “I only get this wet for you.”

“That’s because you're mine and mine only.”

Kakashi takes his time with you, almost as if this is his last meal on earth and he wants to savor it. He’s delicate in some moments and fierce in others. Incorporating his fingers, he slides them into you and curves them up to hit your g-spot repeatedly while eating you. Your hand instinctively cradles his face while the other intertwines with his silver locks. You start to feel tightness in your lower stomach as he brings you close to climax. The sound of his moans muffled inside you is enough to send you over the edge.

“Kakashi, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Come for me, baby,” Kakashi nods, giving you permission to let go.

Letting go of Kakashi, you grip onto the sheets around you, feeling the tightness build and drop out of you. Closing your eyes, the waves of ecstasy ripple throughout your body causing you to scream out in pleasure. Riding with you, Kakashi slowly continues to work you through your climax, cleaning up whatever juices spill over.

“Good girl,” He says to you while bringing your legs back down onto the bed. Slowly, he kisses up your thighs while hooking onto your thong, bringing it down off of them. While he does this, you reach around and unclasp your bra, throwing it aside. Once the thong is thrown aside as well, Kakashi lifts himself off the floor and flips you over so you're laying on your stomach, another smack landing on your ass cheek. The high from your orgasm is immediately replaced with anticipation for what he plans on doing to you next.

You feel Kakashi’s naked body slide on top of you until he's flush against your skin, his body completely enveloping yours. Once his face is level with yours, and his cock is hard against your backside, he brushes your hair away from your face.

“Are you ready for me?” Kakashi whispers into your ear.

You nod into the mattress, chest rising and falling with every strained breath.

“You need to use your words, (y/n),” Kakashi scolds you while tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I need you, Kakashi. Please, I need you.” Your words come out as a plea, not being able to take his absence any longer.

You feel Kakashi’s weight lift off of you as he reaches around your waist and lifts it up so your ass is tilted upwards. From there you can feel him position his tip at your entrance, slowly rubbing it up and down to spread your wetness.

“Please, Kashi, I need your cock inside me,” you beg.

Without further hesitation, you feel every inch of him slide into your folds until he’s bottomed out inside you. The feeling of him deep within you sends you into euphoria and you can feel yourself tighten around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Kakashi whispers.

Starting off slow, he pumps into you with control. You feel pleasure and pain as Kakashi kisses your neck while grabbing onto your hair. After each thrust you feel him going faster and harder, your bodies smacking against each other. To gain more leverage, he lifts off of you and brings you up onto your hands and knees. With his hand gripping your shoulder, he pumps into you with ferocity.

“For years I’ve touched myself thinking about getting to fuck you like this baby. You’re so beautiful and so good to me. Everything about your body draws me to you,” Kakashi says in between moans. You feel him start to twitch inside you, his thrusts getting more out of control. You look over your shoulder and meet his gaze.

“We deserve this baby. You deserve this. Give me everything.” You both know your words mean more than just sex, and Kakashi relishes them.

Lifting you up by your neck, Kakashi brings you toward him so you're both kneeling while he continues thrusting inside of you. He brings one hand around your front to circle your clit and the other cups your breast. Your hands lift up behind you to grab onto his face. Turning your head to him, you kiss him with every ounce of passion you have left. This new position is hitting you at your core and you can feel yourself tighten again. Kakashi must have felt it too, as he broke free from your mouth to tilt his head back in pleasure. Without exchanging words, you know you both are at your limit.

With a few last staggering thrusts, both of you reach climax in unison. Feeling yourself go limp, Kakashi wraps his arms around you to keep you steady. You feel streams of his hot semen pool inside of your contracting walls. With Kakashi’s moans singing in your ear, you can’t help but smirk at his vulnerability. With him still inside, you hold onto each other, trying to catch your breaths. After a few beats, you both begin to laugh at your exasperated states.

“Stay here, I’m going to get a towel,” Kakashi says while shifting out of you. After pulling a towel from the cupboard in your bathroom, Kakashi brings it to you and cleans up between your legs. Before you have time to move, Kakashi picks you up bridal style and spins you around in his arms.

You scream and start to laugh as he plants kisses all over your face. “Kakashi!”

“Hm?” he hums in your ear, pretending he didn’t just lift you with little to no effort.

Holding you up with one arm, he grabs a blanket off the bed and carries you to the chair in the corner of your room. There he sits down and places you sideways on his lap so you’re facing each other. He then takes the blanket and wraps it around you both so you can stay warm while cuddling each other. Kakashi has always had a knack for knowing exactly what you want at any given moment.

“I thought we could get some inspiration for our next round,” Kakashi says with a smirk as he pulls out a copy of Icha Icha Tactics from underneath the cushion.

“What? How did that get there?” you laugh.

“Oh, I have multiple copies of these everywhere,” he jokes, waving the book in the air.

You laugh and lightly hit his chest. Tucking the blanket up closer to your face, you lay your head down on Kakashi’s shoulder while he flips open to a page in the book.

Before he starts to read to you, Kakashi lifts your chin to kiss you. Every time your lips touch his, flashes of your joint past enters your mind. Although it was hard, and you faced many difficult trials on the way, you are forever thankful that you were both able to live long enough to experience these moments. You took care of each other, lifted each other up when they were in the dirt, and now you can finally share the love you’ve always held for each other. You wouldn’t change any of it. After your kiss, before pulling away from you, Kakashi looks deep into your eyes.

“I love you, (y/n).”

You smile up at him, tears brimming in your eyes.

“I love you too, Kakashi. Forever.”

-

A/n cont.: Well, whattdaya think? :)

[kuekyuuq]

How Lex finally drove Lena mad... [Another take on s05 Lena Luthor]

I was trying to prove, that Lena suffered burn-out in season 5 and I think, I stumbled across the somewhat unexpected real reason for it.

[Disclaimer: I do not mean to condone Lena’s acts nor plans in season 5. But rather to make a case of how and why this character fell off the path of good.  I still disagree with the show’s depiction of Lena taking a full season to realize she was indeed acting like a villain. But I believe, at last, I may have found a puzzle-piece that may explain Lena’s state of mind a bit better - prolly not what the show-writers thought about much, but should have.]

TW: abuse, manipulation

...everything covered? Okay? Then, let’s take a walk: 

___________________________________

I don't think, Lena's decline started with this:

but already with this:

Lex dropping the truth-bomb in Lena just gave her emotional spiral something to focus around, and - ironically - to follow in his footsteps, sort of.

I argue, Lena shooting Lex, killing him, unleashed a landslide of thus far undealt with issues Lena had: She never really got to truly process what Lex had done to her, her whole life, rather had used her “boxes” to ignore it all. Shooting him dead was not the solution for her herself. It only (presumably) freed her from the Damocles’ sword, but the damage was still there, deep wounds that never got to heal. With the immediate thread gone, this particular box sprung wide open... 

Lena's relationship with Lex was always... complex.

To Lena Lex used to be her big brother, and he at least pretended to be a good one.

While Lionel was absent and cold, Lillian cruel and bitter, Lex was kind. He was there for Lena, supported her, encouraged her.

For 16 years, from the age of four to twenty, Lena only knew this version of Lex, even if sometimes his mask cracked. And if it did, he blamed her for it and Lena being adopted and raised in a home where love always seemed conditional and she was constantly told by Lillian what a failure she was, most likely did believe that. Intelligence has little to do with this, but scarring experiences, fear of abandonment and emotional dependency have everything to do with this... Her big brother could do no wrong, even when she rationally found herself disagreeing with him and his views more and more.

But the charming boy Lena had trusted and had become emotionally dependent on, in the cold and heartless Luthor household, gradually turned into this: 

...This was Lex kidnapping Lena and tying her to a chair, to show her how he was supposedly exposing / killing Superman. This was after he had kicked Lena out of LuthorCorp for refusing to help him destroy the Super. After she had managed to move on, with Jack and their start-up. Lex had simply snatched her up, without warning. And when Lex gave himself to the police as a martyr, Lena was left to go on the record, get publicly tied to the Luthor crimes... and play a key-role in sending her brother to jail, convicted to 32 consecutive life-sentences.

 All while he was using her as his social experiment and manipulated her, from early childhood on:

[Lena reading Lex's diary about her. During Lena and Kara inspecting Lex’s prison cell, the camera panned over some of the pages; some were jibberish (still in tone with Lex being mental or writing in code, so no shame on the props department) and others were repetitive (..okay.) but the coherent texts all told the same story, about Lex using Lena as his psychological lab-rat ever since the four year old girl entered the Luthor manor...]

Even without being aware of the above, even despite the manipulation and grooming since her early childhood, Lena tried so hard, not to be(come) like him...

and I think, she lied to herself, believing she had overcome him

And he'd been lingering in the back of her mind - what he was, what he became and his power over her...

...

And it took a lot for Lena to grow past him, to cut herself free from his abuse.

I cannot imagine what Lex’s return to the living was like for Lena.  On one hand, it did gave her an opportunity (see below).  On the other... she couldn’t even rid herself of her life-long abuser by killing him.

(I think this ^ is where her healing started, not because of the violent act, but because this was a gut reaction, not a pre-meditated or rational move (like her shooting him). Up until there, Lena knew Lex was bad, but she had not been able to truly despise him, to not keep giving him yet another chance, to not hope for the (fake) sweet boy she had grown up with to return.)

So, yes, a burn-out of sorts. But not from overworking as a CEO, but from fighting Lex, his influence on her, her whole life... until she freed herself.

And I kinda like, the depiction of how she took the last steps without Kara's help, and for herself. Making her own self-worth the priority. A real and (eventually) healthy end to her dependency relationship to him. Not ended by him being in jail or her taking a last resort measure (killing him), but by telling him in the face that she means more to herself than he does and walking away. Not to avoid/ignore him, but to move forward.

Or, in other words, while Lena’s initial feelings of betrayal by Kara were valid, they got amplified by her feeling and realizing the full weight of her Lex-trauma (the other person she had trusted and loved - and, no, while Lena had loved Jack, their relationship had been an escape for Lena, from Lex no less, and Lena had never fully opened herself up to Jack).

So, in a scrambling attempt to keep the Lex-box shut, she projected her whole emotional pain, the blame and anger/frustration/rage at Kara, in an attempt for control (of her own life), or at least the illusion of it. 

#Kue out

PS: I acknowledge that this is a very complex topic and may be triggering to some while hard to relate to for others. Hence the trigger warnings, and I hope we can all agree, that while I spent some time on this post, it is still just an interpretation of merely a piece of fiction. 

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body. 

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm. 

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered. 

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.” 

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?” 

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.” 

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.” 

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.” 

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month. 

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair. 

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly. 

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.” 

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head. 

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.” 

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.” 

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.” 

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die. 

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room. 

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground. 

“Who is it?” You asked. 

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered. 

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.” 

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled. 

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.” 

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.” 

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.” 

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.” 

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.” 

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.” 

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom. 

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well. 

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

[willwriteforhugs]

how stray kids asks you out <3

skz scenario - all members (individually) x reader

genre: fluff, dating au, angst if you close your left eye

word count: 1.6k (total)

warnings: some cursing, but nothing else :)

a/n: hello, lovelies!! this is my very first (posted) stray kids fic- i hope you all enjoy. it’s nothing major, but i really had fun writing it. if you’ve found me on the explore page, hello! i’m a hot mess. pls validate me by reading what i write.

just kidding.

maybe.

ANYWAYS- please keep in mind that this is written in a totally lighthearted way, and this is 100% fictitious. this is for entertainment purposes only. thank you for reading!

chan: 

he is actually so shy about it :’(

but he knows he’s gonna go through with it

cause that’s the kind of person he is

he just wants his emotions to be out in the open

whether the feeling is mutual or not

so he just improvises 

he approaches you with completely no context? like he just walks up and starts a convo but you can’t tell why

you think he’s just. being chan

but no

he’s pretty chill, actually

his face is so tho red but he doesn’t know that so don’t say anything

a few minutes in he kinda just snaps because he just couldn’t wait

“y/n-ah, do you wanna- i don’t know, get together sometime? are you free?”

this takes you off guard completely

he misunderstands your reaction *screams*

and he immediately regrets saying anything

but you scramble to reassure him 

when you say you’d like to get together, he loses all humility

becomes a total flirt

this flusters you but the two of you have such CHEMISTRY 

“so it’s a date?”

“it’s a date.”

minho:

is the type to completely deny his own feelings until the very last minute

plus, tbh

he probably thinks you hate him

so he has a hard time convincing himself to finally ask you out

but when he does...

he just bites the bullet (lmao pray for him)

walks RIGHT THE FUCK UP TO YOU

“y/n.”

when you respond he just kinda:

“will you go out with me?”

you also probably thinks he hates you too (go communication!!)

so you’re just like *surprised pikachu face*

but he just stands there and waits for your response

he’s sweating on the DL

but you kinda just go with it and say yes

he’s hella surprised but doesn’t wanna show his excitement

so he just smirks and is like

“okay. what would you like to do, and when?”

(just because he’s a cocky lil shit doesn’t mean he’s not a gentleman)

but he’s also secretly planning the whole first date in his head

will i hold y/n’s hand? what will they wanna do? should i-

- minho’s brain

(aw)

changbin:

is on the bolder side

(be careful with this one)

(he’s feisty)

he probably let his feelings fester for a long time

so this is overdue

but he spends the whole day shamelessly flirting with you

he finally just asks if you want to grab some food

you don’t even really realize it’s a date until he insists on paying for everything

this makes you all clumsy and embarrassed

but he thinks it’s the cutest shit ever

well now he’s clumsy and embarrassed (sobs)

TECHNICALLY he doesn’t officially ask you out until after this

he pretty much just straight up confesses

the audacity i can’t

“y/n-ah... i really like you- will you let me take you out? on a real date?”

* gesturing to the take out *

he isn’t embarrassed at all

you CANNOT stop looking at his eyes

they’re so genuine and loving that you almost forget to answer

once he gets confirmation he promises to both plan and pay for the whole thing, even as you protest

how are you already in love with this man 

hyunjin:

poor hyunjinnie probably spent the last four months trying to decide how to ask you out

he’s been head over heels for you for a while now

and he knows he needs to make his move

(cause, let’s be honest- you’re a catch, and he’s protective. could i make it any more obvious?)

he ends up thinking that just being straightforward is the way to do it

so he spends the whole day just trying to get you alone

this is harder than he anticipated

so finally he just grabs you while you’re in conversation

and goes

“y/n, i’m sorry-it’s important, can i just talk to you a sec?”

you go with him, if not out of pure curiosity 

literally the SECOND you’re alone he just swivels around says

“did you know that you are really hard to catch alone?”

and you’re kinda just like: 

huh

but he continues

“anyways, i just had a question for you?”

“oh, okay. what is it?”

this is when the nerves hit him 

“oh, uh- i guess i was just wondering- if you would go out with me sometime? nothing big, i just-”

you interrupt him without thinking

“yes.”

* cue one completely flustered and w h i p p e d hyunjin *

jisung:

is not shy at ALL

but he wants to make sure you’re comfortable

so he doesn’t make a big deal out of it

he spent a lot of time debating how to do it

but he decides to write a note (so cute)

he waits until you leave the room for a sec

he slips a note into your bag that just says

“date? -jisungie”

with a lil heart next to it

then he panics and just books it

when you find it a bit later you’re initially confused

but then it kinda hits you

you FREAK out and track him down-

only to realize you have no idea what you want to say to him

but he knows you too well

and he just laughs when he sees your face

this makes you laugh too, even though you’re nervous

when the two of you finally recover he’s just

“but really- please? let me take you out.”

you know your face is on fire

so you just nod

but that’s all the confirmation he needs

felix:

king of overthinking 

we all know felix has EVERYTHING planned in his head

like, to a T

he’s been very stressed about asking you out, but he also doesn’t want to miss his chance

so he just thinks and thinks and thinks

he just wants it to be perfect for you

he decides to just hang out in the comfort of your home to do it

the two of you are just chilling (y’know. FRIEND THINGS.)

but he is completely in his own head

and you can tell

you get to be a little worried for him, so you just ask:

“hey- are you alright? you seem a little off tonight.”

he turns super pink and tries to play it off

but since you’re a stubborn piece of work, you pry a lil

and he cracks under pressure (I FEEL BAD OMG)

he finally just looks up and snaps:

“y/n- i’m really sorry. i wanted to to this well, and make it cute and romantic and have you fall in love with me in an instant. but you- god, you’re so nerve-wracking!”

you just sit there

completely flabbergasted

he bursts into awkward laughter, and between coughs he’s just like

“y/n, i was gonna ask you out. i’ve loved you for a while now.”

he continues: “but i guess i fucked up, didn’t i...”

you jump and interrupt him

and insist that he was being crazy- what was he doing letting his mind run free with that?

finally, to shut him up, you just lean over and place your lips over his.

seungmin:

is surprisingly confident

but also low-key has no idea what he’s doing

he decides to send you a text

he asks if you want to grab coffee, which you absolutely do

he doesn’t realize until later...

that he didn’t actually specify it was supposed to be a date.

oops.

but he kinda just goes with it, and the two of you maintain good conversation

finally he interrupts you mid-sentence and is like

“y/n, will you answer a question for me?”

you nod, and he continues:

“what is- uh- this- exactly? to you?”

* nodding down at your long empty coffee cups *

you don’t really understand the question (valid)

he kinda just sighs and starts laughing

“well. it was supposed to be a date. i’m just really bad at this.”

you just. cannot believe your ears

he just laughs harder and says

“so. can we try again?”

you start laughing too

and you know that even if it wasn’t the best first date,

you’d felt right at home. 

jeongin:

poor baby is SO NERVOUS 

he’s spent like,,,,

the last 6 days trying to plan how to finally do this 

but he decides to approach you and let it try to come up naturally

you two carry a conversation for a few minutes and then he asks

“so...do you- you know- like anyone?”

your face turns bright red

you can’t stop thinking

does he know oh my god am i that obvious i-

but you end up just looking away and being like

“i mean- i guess?”

he can’t decide how to respond

because on one hand- that person could be him

but on the other hand, it’s more likely that it’s not, and then it would be awkward as hell for him to ask you out

he kinda panics

then against his own will he just goes for it

“y/n-ah. i don’t really know how to say this- but will you let me take you out? i really like you...”

his ears are RED OH BOY

his voice kinda just trails off and you can tell he feels insecure

but when you tell him yes...

he was literally born for this

he gets so excited and doesn’t hide it at all

thank you so much for reading!! p.s. my asks are now open, feel free to send in your requests !

[heliads]

Still Into You

Based on the request “Luke x reader based on the song Still Into You by Paramore?”

masterlist

Luke is leaning up against the wall, legs stretched out idly in front of him. His girlfriend is curled up on the bed next to him, lips pursed in thought as she considers the lines of music in front of her. They have the same habit of writing songs in worn and torn notebooks, of writing over and tearing out pages until the books themselves are reduced to nothing then reanimated with the sheer frenzy of their music. Luke likes that they have this shared trait, like it’s a sign that they were meant to be together ever since the start.

Y/N feels Luke’s eyes resting on her and looks up, blushing slightly. “I’m not very interesting company, am I? Sorry about that.” Luke just grins. “Don’t worry about it. You writing songs makes me think about songs, and that’s one of my favorite things to do.” Y/N smiles at that, leaning up to kiss him gently on the cheek before settling down again in front of her notebook. She squints at a line, then rubs it away with her eraser.

Luke glances down at the lines of music, but his head’s at an angle and he can’t read a single note. “What’s the song about?” Y/N flashes him a teasing grin. “It’s a surprise. You’ll find out soon enough.” She considers the main melody, adding a few notes as she goes. “I’m not quite sure if it’s happy or sad, not yet. It’s fast, and it’s fun to sing, but that’s all I’ve got right now.” Luke nods, leaning his head back against the wall and letting the faint sounds of scratching pencils and Y/N’s occasional humming take him back to the time he first met her.

Y/N was Julie’s friend, and had been her best friend long before Luke showed up. Luke smiles in spite of himself, remembering the first time he had caught a glimpse of the girl. Julie had been talking with Y/N in her room, and Luke had made a point of walking by so that Julie would be forced to introduce him. From the second Y/N had locked eyes with him, Luke knew he was head over heels for her. Even the way she said her name sounded like a melody, a pure and beautiful sound that Luke couldn’t write even if he tried for the rest of his life (or death).

Every moment spent with her was better than the last, every inside joke and casual conversation inspired him. It hadn’t taken Luke long to realize he loved her, and an even shorter time to ask her out. Luke laughs inwardly, remembering how nervous he’d been to first ask Y/N on a date. If ghosts had heartbeats, Luke’s would have been pounding so loud the entire town could have heard it. Luckily, she had said yes, and the rest was history.

There had been hard times, sure, but the good easily made up for the bad. When the business with Caleb and his club had finally come to an end, with Luke, Alex, and Reggie being able to finally touch people, Luke had practically sprinted over to Y/N’s house. She had looked up at him through tear-glazed eyes, having thought him dead, but her gaze quickly changed to happy shock when he had gathered her up in his arms, picking her up and turning in a lazy circle.

Then there were late nights with the two of them cuddled up close together, and early mornings with kisses pressed to cheeks, and date afternoons with hands entwined for all the world could see. If, you know, they could see Luke at all. It didn’t matter, though. Not with her. Not for anything as long as Luke had Y/N.

Luke is snapped back to reality when Y/N gently shuts her notebook cover, yawning. “It’s getting late. I think I’m going to go to bed.” Luke glances out the window, surprised to see that night had fallen and the stars were already shining through the dim patches of cloud. Luke stands up, stretching, then leans back down to kiss Y/N one last time. He says his goodnights and turns to go, pausing only once to look back at the girl he loves before disappearing back to Julie’s studio.

Luke is frustrated. He’s not sure why, but his blood is practically boiling. Maybe it’s because it’s been a long, stressful week, where he’s convinced himself that things have been good for too long. Caleb wouldn’t just give up, not like this. Something’s coming. It has to be.

Then there was the problem of Luke’s obvious ghosthood. It’s amazing to perform with his friends as a guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms. To play music again, in front of a crowd that can see him and cheer along as if he were just another lifer? It means everything to him. But for every stellar performance, there’s always that one moment when it ends. When the last chord is played and the drumbeats fade away to silence, when Luke finally disappears to the crowd. It just feels like a constant thorn in his side, a reminder that no matter how hard Luke works he will always just be a ghost, unnoticed by anyone except the rare exceptions.

Luke can’t stand to go inside the studio, at least not yet. He doesn’t want to be stuck inside again, in those same four walls with the same few people. So he heads out down the streets, walking casually down the sidewalk as if he were just another ordinary teenager heading home from school. He’s so lost in his surroundings that he almost doesn’t hear someone calling his name, and even then, it takes the person’s running footsteps that stop just behind him to convince Luke that they’re not just calling out to someone else on the street.

When Luke turns around, his frown turns into a smile when he realizes it’s Y/N. She looks amazing today, eyes shining with the bright light of the afternoon sun. She beams at him. “Look who’s out and about! I didn’t expect to see you here.” Luke chuckles, scratching the back of his head absentmindedly. “I figured it would be nice to get out of that studio every once in a while.” Y/N nods, then her happy gaze turns into one of slight guilt, as if she’d just realized something.

“Actually, about that. You remember how we had that date planned in a few days?” Luke nods. He’d been really looking forward to that. The two of them had decided to visit the boardwalk again, and stroll up and down while taking in the wind and the waves and all of the shops that dotted the faded horizon. Y/N winces. “Something came up unexpectedly, and I think I’m going to need a rain check. This honor society at school just announced that they’re meeting at that time, and I can’t skip it. I’m really sorry.”

This should just be a normal occurrence, something that Luke can brush off with a smile and an understanding nod. Yet for some reason, he feels his previous anger start to bubble up again inside of him. “Really? At that exact time?” Y/N nods, looking to all the world like a girl utterly distraught at the news. “It was supposed to be later, but they changed it. I didn’t have a say in it, but I can’t miss the meeting.”

Luke frowns. “But we agreed on that date. I mean, we’ve been talking about it for a while now.” Y/N glances back at him, evidently surprised at his tone. “I don’t have a choice about this, Luke. I can’t change the meeting.” Luke looks back at her. “And what, we can definitely change this?” Y/N raises her eyebrows. “I thought so, yes. It would be super easy to just move it to be the next day.”

Luke shakes his head. “Can’t do it then. I’m spending time with Alex and Reggie.” Y/N furrows her brow. “You spend time with them literally every day. Can we not have our date then?” Luke stops walking, suddenly exasperated. “Your meeting is important and so is this.” Y/N turns to face him. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this? I’m literally just asking if you can put off talking to your friends for a couple hours. I don’t think that’s very hard to do.”

Luke folds his arms across his chest. “Of course it wouldn’t be hard. I’m a ghost, after all. Everyone knows that ghost problems aren’t nearly as important as your problems.” Y/N looks taken aback. “That’s not what I’m saying at all! What’s up with you?” Luke stares at her pointedly. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just tired of feeling unimportant.” Y/N holds up her hands in front of her. “I never said you were unimportant. I’m just confused as to why you think me not being able to make it to one date is equal to an entire argument.”

Luke feels himself getting irritated, and tries to put on a calm face, but all hopes of salvaging this are out the window. “Well, we wouldn’t want you to get too upset about this. How about we just cancel the date? All future ones too, for that matter. It would be too bad if I interfered with your schedule.” Y/N looks horrified, but Luke’s already poofed away, leaving her standing alone and in shock on the sidewalk.

It’s barely been a few hours, and Luke already feels bad about everything. Did he really just say all that to Y/N. And over what, a schedule change? But if Luke knows one thing about himself, it’s that his pride is too big of a stumbling block to overcome. He can’t bring himself to go back and admit that he was wrong, even though he knows that he very much was. So he waits, and waits. A day passes, and then another, and then another. Y/N avoids him the entire time.

After a week, Luke feels crushed by guilt. He’s made a terrible mistake, and he knows it. Why did he have to be so rude just because he felt bad about himself? The other boys have picked up on his bad mood, and try to be extra nice to him. That just makes Luke feel even worse, like he’s upset them too.

Luke’s lying on the sofa in the studio when Julie appears in the door. She knocks twice on the door, alerting him to her presence, then walks in. She comes to a stop in front of Luke, handing him a flyer for a band performance at her school. Luke takes it, frowning. “What’s this about? You think we should do something like this?”

Julie shakes her head. “No, I think we should go. It’s for Y/N’s band. She’s performing, and we should be there to support her.” Luke sits up, looking at his friend. “Y/N doesn’t want me there. Trust me. I messed up things with her big time, and the last thing she wants is to see me in that crowd.” Julie sighs, perching next to Luke on the arm of the sofa. “I would disagree. I think this is the perfect time to get up the courage and see her again.”

Luke is more than hesitant at first, but Julie talks him into it through a combination of calm advice and emotional blackmail. What would you do without friends? So, Luke drags himself out of Julie’s studio and towards Los Feliz High School, regretting his decision the entire time. What if Y/N’s already moved on? What if she really doesn’t want to see him there, and his presence will just make things worse?

Luke wants to turn and leave a dozen times over, but Julie and the boys are there with him, forcing him to stay. Luke follows them into the crowded gymnasium, where he can see a stage is prepared and ready for the upcoming performance. Just as Luke is seconds away from talking himself out of the entire thing, the lights dim and a voice comes over the speakers, announcing Y/N’s band. So this is it- no backing out now.

Y/N and a few of her friends walk on stage, waving to a cheering audience. Y/N is the lead singer, and grabs a guitar from a stand before taking her place in front of the mic. She flashes an easy grin to the crowd, then starts playing.

Instantly, Luke recognizes the song. It’s the one she had been writing all those nights ago, when the two of them had been at her house and everything had been perfect. It’s just like she described- fast, certainly. He still can’t decide if it’s happy or sad, maybe reminiscent or hopeful, even. Then she gets to the chorus, and Luke feels himself lean forward involuntarily as Y/N grabs the mic, singing directly into it as if she were speaking to him herself.

‘Cause after all this time

I’m still into you

I should be over all the butterflies, but I’m into you, I’m into you

And baby, even on our worst nights

I’m into you, I’m into you

For the first time all night, Y/N turns to look directly at him. There’s a twisting feeling in his heart as Luke realizes exactly what the song is about. Him, and her, and everything that went wrong. It’s funny- even as the full extent of the hurt Luke has caused Y/N hits him, he still feels his heart swell with relief. She still loves him, even after all this time and all this heartbreak.

Some things, some things just make sense 

And one of those is you and I

Some things, some things just make sense

And even after all this time

I’m into you

Luke’s heard Y/N sing before, in quiet rooms and empty streets. He’s seen her on stage too, felt goosebumps as she performs with that same captivating electricity every time. But he’s never felt anything quite like what he feels right now, this combination of relief and guilt and love, sheer love, that rocks him to his core.

Before he knows it, the song is over. Y/N and her band perform a few more songs, all excellent, and then he realizes that they’re starting to step off stage. Instantly, Luke poofs away to the hallway just backstage. He opens a door that leads outside, making sure Y/N sees him go, and stands there in the slight chill of the night.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Luke’s barely been there a minute when the door swings open again, revealing Y/N walking towards him. The door has barely closed behind her when Luke moves towards her, crashing his lips onto hers. She looks up at him with this startled smile, reflecting his own teasing grin when he pulls away. “Y/N, I’ve been such an idiot. I messed up. I don’t know what I was thinking that afternoon, but I regret it all. Of course it’s not a big deal to move the date time, and I don’t know why I thought it was.”

Y/N considers him for a moment, a light smile playing on her lips, then speaks. “It’s okay, Luke. Julie tells me you’ve been miserable this whole time, so I knew you didn’t mean it.” Luke frowns. “Julie said what?” Y/N laughs. “She made sure to tell me so I didn’t feel bad.” Luke’s about to say something about how he’s sure Julie has no idea what she’s talking about and he’ll be speaking to her later, but Y/N grabs his hands, pulling him close. “Don’t say anything to her. It was what I needed to hear.”

Luke stares at her for a second, weighing her words, then breaks into a grin. “If you insist. Oh, and by the way, you killed it out there. You were amazing.” Y/N smiles up at him. “You think?” Luke kisses her cheek. “I don’t just think, I know. Loved the first song especially.” Y/N laughs, the quiet sound somehow making the darkness of the night brighter, like the sunrise came a few hours early. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been working on it for a while and it just felt right.”

Luke grins, kissing her again. Of course it felt right- it was the truth, the unspoken truth that both of them had been dancing around this entire time. No matter what, the highs and the lows and the worst of the nights, they still loved each other. That’s the way it would always be.

[hes-writer]

To You (4)

Summary: harry dates y/n to get closer to her best friend

Warnings: mild angst (what else lol), not a lot of dialogue for this one, and a bit of fluff

Word Count: 2775 words

A/N: I've had the worst writer's block for this series but then inspiration struck me at 2 am and I had the chance to write a lil sumthin sumthin for the next part :D

Read the full series in my masterlist (bio)

As I mentioned before, this story kind of goes backwards.

____

As self-deprecating as it is, Y/N couldn’t help but feel her guard lower with each fleeting glance at her phone. She didn’t mean to, really. It wasn’t as if she was bored out of her mind because she was the opposite of that. 

Going on her phone and tapping on Instagram was more of a distraction from studying if anything. She was hounded by piles of homework and pages of readings to do by the end of next week. It seemed that her brain was working in constant overdrive to try to remember the endless concepts and theories that were catapulted at her with no signs of stopping. Her eyes were straining from the constant stimulation from her laptop screen, and from trying to read the small letters plastered on the computer. 

Y/N was studying on her designated studying days, as usual. She was quite proud of sticking to the schedule, except for the few weeks that she opted to coddle herself in the confines of her warm blanket because that was around the time that she found out her boyfriend, Harry, was only using her to get close to her best friend, Louise. 

——

In retrospect, Y/N should have seen all the signs blaring right in front of her face all along. She gave herself facepalms more than she could count by the way she was—quite literally—blinded by love to realize that Harry’s feelings were nothing but a façade. That Y/N was nothing but a pawn in his game; a character to manipulate, disposable in order for him to get the woman he actually wanted. And Y/N had no doubts that her ex-boyfriend was treating Louise like a queen. 

Y/N wore red-tinted glasses while she was with Harry and she didn’t see the red flags rising every time he shaped their evening around Louise’s schedule. She thought that Harry was making such a good effort in getting to know the people close to Y/N’s life that he insisted on having Louise around whenever they hung out with her friends. 

Harry asked endless questions about Louise; from where she worked to what she was interested in—to which Y/N had foolishly answered, believing that she had found the perfect man to share her life with. But she should have known when he didn’t do the same for her other friends. Hell, he didn’t even do the same to her!

___

When Harry and Y/N were just friends, he didn’t bother getting to know her as thoroughly and comprehensively as he did with Louise. In fact, it could be argued that Harry hated Y/N when they were first introduced by—and this was ironic—Louise! 

Louise spoked highly and excitedly of ‘my friend, Y/N’ and with Harry being the loved-up simp that he was—wanted to please Louise by appearing interested in her friend. He guessed that he was probably too good of an actor (not to toot his own horn) because that meet up turned into a set-up. 

Louise had planned a date for her friends, Y/N was indifferent to it; she was even a little excited because she thought that Harry was sort of nice. Despite the fact that he was indirectly rude to her in their first meeting, Y/N didn’t hold grudges on people for their first impressions. She believed that anybody could have a bad day and that might just be the time when Harry was dragged by the arm to be introduced to her. 

Y/N understood if that was the case. She was not too keen on acting nice and friendly after a stressful day at work, or a hard study session at the library. So even if Harry was practically snarling at every word she said from his seat around the rounded booth table of the bar—she agreed to go on a first date with him. 

——

Harry was in shambles.

He got himself into quite an intricate mess trying to attain the woman of his dreams. He was such a pleaser that he was now contemplating inside his car, outside of Y/N’s address. Was this all worth it? Of course, it was. As much as Harry would like to say that this was part of his plan to make Louise his girlfriend, it really wasn’t. 

But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t use it to his advantage. 

It was a good thing that he was early—about twenty minutes or so. That was only because he was huffing the whole time Harry was buttoning the clutches of his dress shirt, shaking his head at the bathroom mirror and reprimanding himself for letting his lovesickness to get him deeper than he would like. But hey, the sooner Harry got to Y/N’s place, the sooner this ‘date’ would be over. 

So here he was, hidden in the shadows of the night sky and shielded by the heavy tint of his Range Rover. Palms were pressed on the lush leather steering wheel as Harry formulated how he could turn this around in his favour. He was already in Louise’s good books for even agreeing to this in the first place—why not make Y/N his own personal wingman?

Granted, that she didn’t actually know Harry well enough but maybe this date could reach Louise’s ears about how much of a romantic, perfect, and chivalrous gentleman Harry could be. That would surely make Louise like him, right?

Wrong. Absolutely wrong.

It was safe to say that Harry was feeling guilty the moment he decided to use Y/N in order to get to her best friend, but that ship sailed long ago when anger and frustration took over. Why in the hell was he so perfect to Y/N’s eyes that she had gushed about him to her best friend minutes after he had dropped her off?

Why did Harry have to knock on her door with a single-stemmed rose clutched in his fingers, doing a little bow to add humour when she opened the door? And what in God’s name possessed him to say that she looked beautiful that night in her pretty, deep green dress that he thought was absolutely gorgeous on her—but his heart was with another woman—fully knowing that it would look better on Louise?

“Why. . . just why,” Harry asked himself as he sat at a table with Y/N, Louise and her boyfriend, Dylan. 

That was what being romantic got him. That was where declaring Y/N as his unofficial wingman ended him upon. A double date with the woman he wanted with Y/N looking at him as if they’ve been together for years, when in fact, they had only known each other for a few weeks. 

Harry’s pride was too big to admit that this time; he couldn’t get the girl. And so, his bruised ego declared that this date was just another unplanned situation that would benefit him—somehow, someway—in the future. 

Wrong again. 

Because a month later,  Y/N was running off to her lecture with a bag strapped over her shoulder, leaving Harry a passionate kiss on the lips. He was quite ashamed to say that he enjoyed the affection, but not enough to ignore the throbbing of his heart

Harry wasn’t all in with his relationship with Y/N and he knew exactly why. For months, he had been pining for Louise and well, he ended up with her best friend, Y/N. Now that was just super unlucky for him. And he wasn’t usually a mean person, but Harry was very annoyed with fate (or destiny) for leaving with an ultimatum. 

First, leaving Y/N risking her tattling to Louise about him breaking her heart was a no-no. Second, staying with Y/N until she realizes that both of them were no good together. The latter was a much more pleasant choice, except the fact that it could take months for Y/N to acknowledge that she and Harry were both too different for each other. 

—— 

It was another four months later when Harry drew upon an epiphany very similar yet completely different from the ultimatum he had presided. 

Y/N was sure of her feelings more than ever, even dropping the ‘L’ word during a drunken stupor of wine and bubbly champagne. Harry was sure that she hadn’t remembered her confession the next morning because she never brought it up. However, those words that escaped her lips were enough for Harry to overthink each night one or the other slept over. 

Sometimes Y/N’s snores would serve as background noise to his serene imagination, wondering why the images of Louise and him doing couple-y stuff were now replaced with Y/N’s figure instead. 

He also pondered if his memory was so impeccable that he could hear Y/N’s laugh fluttering in his ears while she was sound asleep beside him or was it just because she released a chuckle every time he made a horrible joke?

(It was true. Y/N never left Harry hanging in the air with a questionable punchline of a head-scratching joke. Both of them knew that her giggles were pity laughs. Harry was thankful for it and Y/N just couldn’t resist painting a genuine smile on Harry’s face, looking so proud that he had made her laugh.) 

Harry was certain that his feelings for Y/N wouldn’t quite reach the threshold that he held her for now. But it seemed that he was getting a lot of his sworn predictions wrong lately. Sure, their first encounter (and the second, and the third. . .) were purely for satisfaction’s sake. A mere plot for Harry to build his boyfriend resumé for Louise. 

Harry wasn’t sure when his feelings shifted from civil and friendly to an ever-evoking, lovesick puppy. 

Maybe it was the way Y/N walked, straight into his heart and stole it, keeping it safe in her tender hands when she pressed a lingering kiss on his lip while she ran off to catch the bus. The way Harry would pout when Y/N forgot the routine she had set, resulting in him whining her name and sometimes chasing after her to get his much-needed kiss. He even started calling it his ‘good-luck charm’ because it seemed like without it; Harry came home more drained and tired than usual because nothing went right that day. 

Or maybe it was the way she giggled while reading something on her phone, laptop, or a book—even if it was for school purposes. How absolutely pleased he was to hear her melody of giggles, straining his ear to listen more closely and wanting to do nothing more than to hear it again because it was music to Harry. It usually ends with Y/N’s heaving breaths, begging him to stop tickling her. 

Was it because she was the most adorable little thing while she was asleep? No, it couldn’t be, Harry thought, even though the admiration in his eyes cannot be described as anything other than glazed over with love and affection with the way he stared at Y/N’s sleeping face. 

But why can’t he stop thinking about her when she wasn’t around? Harry felt like he was missing a part of himself as soon as he shut the door to his house because Y/N had to go to her own place. 

Why did a smile splinter his lips visualizing Y/N studying at her kitchen table with a topknot wobbling on her head and a pair of her thick-rimmed glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose? Harry still remembers the first time she asked him to redo the bun on her head, complaining that it was loosening and that she couldn’t focus when strands were haywire. 

Harry made sure to be extra careful as to not accidentally pull on her scalp, stretching the hairband around his fingers. 

Now, he only had a minute experience in hair styling, reminiscing to his long-haired days were he slipped his hair into a neat ball in a few seconds or less. But this was Y/N, his girlfriend, who had an adorable pout on her face. The finch between her brows deepening when she tried to understand the concepts written on the screen yet she would giggle when Harry would ask her, ‘Am I hurting you?’ and shake her head ‘no’. 

——-

So it was a bit questionable when Harry jumped at the chance to kiss Louise when the time came. 

She had just broken up with her boyfriend and called Y/N for comfort. However, Y/N was about to leave for an exam worth half of her grade and she couldn’t just not attend it. She may love her best friend with all of her heart, but not enough to waste thousands of dollars to redo a course because she missed the final exam. 

Hence, why Harry was sent in place of Y/N instead. And that was also how his plump lips managed to lock itself with Louise’s’ glossy ones. He should’ve felt guilt stab him right away when he tasted wet, salty tears on his tongue when he battled for dominance with Louise. 

Harry should have pulled away when his phone buzzed in his pocket; a message from girlfriend that she had just finished her exam and was ready to be picked up now so that she could give love and comfort to her best friend. 

Harry’s subconscious must have reminded him that this was the woman whom he had spent months pining on; desperately trying to make her his yet failing. And now that he had the chance to, he couldn’t stop. 

Instead of doing everything his conscience had practically yelled at him to do, Harry’s brain had buffered—his body numbed every nerve except the ones controlling his mouth because their persisting kiss was captured by a photographer hidden amongst barricades that Harry had failed to take notice of. 

Harry was sure that his presence was hidden to the best of his abilities, but he guessed that Louise’s hands had pulled his hoodie off in the midst of their make-out session, revealing his side profile and the unruly curls on his head. 

And that was how Y/N identified the image on her phone the time she felt her heart being ripped out and crushed into pieces. That, and the fact that Harry wore the same clothes she had seen him in before she left. 

____ 

And now, as Y/N paused her thumb from scrolling away from the image on her screen, the same pain and heartbreak still throbbed in her chest. 

She couldn’t seem to forget, as a lot of people say, what Harry did to her. Despite the fact that he was spotted outside her door, leaving boxed gifts of chocolate and flower bouquets a few minutes ago—Y/N simply didn’t have the capacity to sweep everything under the rug. 

The wound was still fresh—feeling air was enough to have her hissing, aiming to cover the cut in fear that it would become too painful to even ignore. For weeks, Y/N had to wallow in agonizing self-pity to remind herself that Harry didn’t deserve her or her love for him and now she was somehow ready to run back into his arms? 

She absolutely despised the way her hands twitched to send him a text. To leave him a voicemail or to simply tap his contact just to hear him speak to her again. Y/N was ashamed to admit that he thought about knocking on his front door just for another chance at seeing him again. An opportunity to ask him if he was happier with her (ex) best-friend—if Harry loved Louise more than he did with her. Or—and most of all—if Harry ever did love Y/N during their short relationship. Was everything just a game to him? 

She was doing good so far; she was strong enough to withhold from the urges of communicating with an ex. However, Y/N knew it was only a matter of time before Harry took extreme measures to speak to her, unlocking her door with the spare key she had given him. One day she would be met with his figure in the hallway with a sad smile on his face and three long-stemmed sunflowers in his hand and Y/N wouldn’t be able to resist him. 

Y/N hated herself for being so weak whenever Harry was involved. He was her Kryptonite; getting too close to him was what ripped her to shreds. 

___

Let me know what you thought!

____

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[pit-and-the-pen]

Kissing In Cars

hi it’s 1:30am. I was listening to a song that inspired a sappy, painfully cute fic.

No one asked for this but I felt the need to create this after hearing a specific song.

George Weasley x Female Reader. 

Warnings: A shit ton of fluff, angst if you squint super hard at one point Fred gets his shit wrecked by a bookshelf, 

flashbacks are in italics 

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George couldn’t believe his eyes. If someone had told him he was dead and in heaven, he would have gladly excepted that idea. Because it was easier that the person in white walking towards him was anything less than an angel. 

The only thing that was grounding him in that moment was his twins hand clapping down on his shoulder. “Pinch me” George threw over his shoulder in a whisper. 

“Why?”

“I have to make sure this is real.” George chuckled out. 

“Trust me mate. It’s real.” Fred elbowed him in the ribs lightly. 

If someone had told him how beautiful you would look coming down an aisle he would have married you the first time he saw you. 

-Year 4- 

He had bursted into charms five minutes late. Flickwit only glancing up slightly before giving the red head a quick glance telling him to hurry up and join the class. His normal seat next to his twin was taken. The only one available next to the timid girl in his year that no one really ever heard speak. As he sat down as quickly as he could, he noticed she spelt mildly of strawberries. George shrugged it off and took out a notebook and franticly tried to catch up with what was on the board. 

A heavy sigh came from besides him and suddenly two pages were shoved under his arms. In small tight cursive was what George guessed as the earlier notes. He flicked his eyes over to the girl next to him who gave him a small eyeroll before looking down at her papers with a small smile. That smile made him stop in his tracks. How had he never noticed how warm it was after four years in classes with her. 

The aisle was impossibly long. His muscles tensed, trying to stop himself from running up just to grab your hand. Just to feel how soft the lace would be against your skin. To make sure this was in fact real. 

His eyes locked on yours for the first time since you stepped into the room and the smile that crossed your face nearly swept him off of his feet. 

-Year 5-

“Stop it you prat, we really need to study.” You said through giggles as you balled up a piece of scrap paper to throw at the older twins head. 

“No but seriously. We could do it. We’d make a killing if we made them available for all students.” Fred piqued up from the corner, shoving down his own laughter. 

“And where would I fit into this?” You said, going along with it for a second. 

“Why you’d be our second in command.” 

“Technically third since there are two of us.” George added with a wink towards you “No hard feelings I hope.”

“Oh no.” You said throwing your arms up. “Just choose your brother over me I see.” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave a small fake pout. 

“See that’s a hard spot to be in. My best mate and brother, or my best girl?” He taps his chin for a second before giving you a full on smile. “Sorry Fred. Gotta make her happy.” He says grabbing both sides of the top of your head and giving you a small kiss on the crown of your head. 

“Ass.” You said smacking him lightly at the sarcasm dripping from his voice. George was your best friend. Regardless of how fast your heart was beating at the small act of affection, joking or not.

You lock eyes with Fred and he gives you a knowing look before you give a very rude hand gesture and he just laughs. Shaking his head. 

Finally, you reach him. He vaguely processes the person next to you placing your hand in his. This felt right. Like his hand was always meant to be in yours. Like it was a missing puzzle piece that finally had been found under the couch. 

-Year 6-

“If you pull at your dress one more time. Love, you look amazing.” George Said, pressing a small kiss to your temple. 

“What if she doesn’t like me. What if she doesn’t like the color of my dress. Merlin, I knew I should have gone wit the blue one.” You voice breaking into a full panic. George grabs the sides of your face lightly. 

“Hey, hey.” He looks into your eyes and makes you take a deep breath with him. “She’s gonna love you, you know why?” You shake your head. “Because I love you.” He bends down and gives you a soft peck on the lips. Quieting any protest that was about to come out of your mouth. 

The words being spoken in front of him didn’t seem to matter. They floated in one ear and out the other like an unknown melody. The only thing he could focus on was the person in front of him. Her voice, the way the dress clung to her in all the right way making her look impossibly more beautiful. All that mattered right now was how much longer until he got to officially say he was your and you were his. Every word just brought him closer to the thing he wants more than anything in the world. You. 

-Battle of Hogwarts-

How did you manage to lose him. That was the first thing you promised him. Pinkies wrapped against each others. Foreheads pressed together. 

“Promise me you won’t leave.” You whispered as the battle started around you. 

“If you promise to marry me once we get out of this” He vowed, giving his fist a small kiss as you did the same to yours. 

You tried to stop the tear from rolling down your face as your mind raced at what was happening all around you. The sound of the battle only seeming to get louder as the castle was breached. 

A second later, before you could answer, a familiar voice screamed his name and before you knew he was bolting in the other direction. You called after him as his red hair got lost in the hoard of people. He didn’t mean to break the promise. It had been a silly request anyways. A selfish way to make sure you didn’t lose him. But George can handle himself. Still you found yourself running down after him. 

You saw it as it happened. The flash of green light hit so close to Freds face that when you saw him get blasted to the ground you were instantly paralyzed with fear. Percy and George instantly ducking down to check on their brother as you aimed a curse right at the person that had done it. A cry coming out of your throat as you tried to tell yourself it didn’t hit. As you rushed over to help them clear the rubble currently covering Fred, you let out a sigh of relief as you see him wince. 

“Well that wasn’t very nice.” He groans as the two boys get him onto his feet. 

Once Fred is into safety in the great hall, you snatch up George’s arm and throw your arms around his shoulders. 

“I love you. When we get out of this, I’m marrying you Weasley.” You said into his chest. Answering the question George had blurted out earlier. He smiled as he gave you a long kiss. 

“I do.” He heard your voice ring out loud and clear, the weight of the wedding band slipping onto his finger. He smiled so wide he could feel how much his checks hurt. He processed the happy tears slipping out of his eyes. Matching your tear streaked face now. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife.” The voice called from behind him. This was it. This is what everyday since that day in Charms class had been leading up to. As he leaned in to press his lips against yours, he murmurs “Finally” before wrapping his arms around your waist and putting every ounce of love he ever felt for you into that first kiss. 

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[thewhitejournal]

“The Intern” Part Six

Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader Series

(not my gif)

hey guys! i know i haven’t been active in awhile and i apologize, but i hope this final chapter (unless y’all want like an epilogue or something of that nature) of ‘the intern’ makes up for it. i’m so sad to see this series go because it was one of my favorites to write but we got more series, one shots, and all that good stuff on the way!

please enjoy my loves :) <3

content warnings: cursing, super fluffy and sappy towards the end

thewhitejournal’s masterlist

“the intern” masterlist

-

The past four weeks have flown by quickly. You were out of the cast and back on your feet in the bullpen. You were helping out everywhere; between running errands for Garcia and helping out with the rest of the team, you were dead tired by the end of the day. But it didn’t matter to you. You were finally getting a taste of what you loved, even with school and classes still a part of your daily routine. You were eternally grateful for the geniuses you had on hand when you were doing homework in between tasks. Everything be damned if you didn’t take advantage of it.

A groan slipped from your lips, filling every nook and cranny in Garcia’s office. It broke the comfortable silence between the two of you, other than the sound of her fingernails clicking away on the keys at record speed.

“What’s a matter, babe?”, she asked, gaze never wavering from the work in front of her. Your head now rested on your arms on the table in front of you. You let out an exasperated sigh.

“I hate math.”, you stated simply, earning a chuckle from her. She rolled her chair over next to yours, placing a gentle hand on your back.

“Let me see it.” You sat up so she could look over your work. The page was littered with dozens of scratch work equations that were slightly visible from having been erased. Most of the questions had half-completed answers or none at all. She shook her head.

“You should ask Reid. Why do they change the way people do math every year?” You sighed again as she rolled back to her desk. You gathered your book and assignments up in your arms and carried them out into the bullpen, eyes falling on Dr. Reid scribbling away on a file.

“I’m glad I caught you here, I need the help of a genius.”, you explained, pulling an empty chair up to his desk after having sat your things down on it. He looked taken aback by your sudden approach. He didn’t say anything at first, not meeting your eyes. “If you’re too busy right now, then don’t worry-“, you started, but were cut off by his stammering.

“N-no, I’m not too busy for you, (Y/N).” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say a slight blush crept upon his cheeks. “What’s the w-work?”, he asked you, clearing his throat and meeting your eyes for only split seconds at a time. You smiled and shook your head at the awkward doctor, letting him take a look at the papers. He quickly realized what you were working on, then tried helping you, going on ramblings about the equations and variables you didn’t understand. Eventually, you could form answers to your questions on the pages.

“You’re a lifesaver, Spencer. Thanks.”, you said, flashing him a bright smile. He offered you a small smile and minimal eye contact. You just turned and left, satisfied with the completed worksheet. You returned to Garcia’s office to see Hotch there, standing over her. They were talking about something; pictures of criminals and crime scenes flashed the screens on the walls as she clicked around and typed. You froze in the doorway.

Aaron Hotchner was a wonderful boss and an amazing man; he thought of you as an outstanding addition to the team, so you had no reason to be so intimidated by him. But you couldn’t help it. Maybe it had something to do with the way you’d seen him interrogate suspects so intensely, or maybe with the fact that you had a bit of a crush on him. You’d never admit to the latter though. It was unprofessional and wrong, but it felt so right all at the same time.

Almost as if he could sense your presence, he called you in the room without ever turning to face you. You moved towards him, setting your things down on your desk. You stood next to him in the already small, getting smaller space. His body heat radiated onto your skin, cologne filling your senses. You swallowed hard, hoping he didn’t hear it.

“(Y/L/N), see if you can help Garcia find a connection between some of these victims. If you find anything, just drop by my office and let me know.”, he stated, turning to face you. There were only inches between your bodies; you couldn’t meet his eyes. You could feel his gaze looking down on you, so you looked up, ready to maintain composure.

His brown eyes looked black in the minimal light of the room. “Yes, sir.” You could hear your voice waver slightly and you kicked yourself internally for it. You couldn’t help but think that if Garcia weren’t here, this would be a very different story. He looked in your eyes a little longer than might’ve been necessary, then gave you a smirk before leaving. He shut the door behind him.

You exhaled immediately, nearly doubling over. You hadn’t realized you’d barely been breathing.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N), I’m surprised he didn’t fuck you right against that wall!”, she hissed under her breath, in case he was still in earshot. You gasped.

“Garcia!”, you exclaimed, lightly slapping her shoulder.

“You could cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a knife!”, she retorted. The two of you made eye contact.

“Really? It’s not just me?”, you asked with full sincerity.

“Hell no! You need to get on that, (Y/N).”, she said with a knowing smile, sending you a wink. Your cheeks flushed hot red and you rolled your eyes.

“Garcia, I can’t do that. You know it’s wrong.” As much as you wanted to pursue anything with Hotch, you were telling her the truth. It was wrong. You walked over and sat in your seat, sighing and starting to work on your homework again.

“Honey, love is never wrong.”, she said in that soothing and comforting voice. You knew that, on some level, she was right. You dropped your pencil, unable to focus on your work. You swiveled to face her.

“Yeah, cause that argument would go over well with Strauss. Or whoever is above her.” She sighed. She knew you were right, too.

“Just don’t count him out yet. You two…deserve happiness. I think you could give each other that.” You knew she was serious. She placed a hand on your knee, squeezing it.

“Thanks, PG.” You gave her a half-smile. She shrugged.

“What’re friends for?” She flashed you a huge smile, and the two of you returned to your respective workloads.

-

Nearly four hours later, you’d long ago finished your homework, and now you were helping Garcia with the workload provided to the two of you by Hotch. The two of you agreed with each other that you’d need some eye bleach after this; the images flashing on the screen were those that most people could never stomach seeing.

You rubbed your eyes, blinking afterwards. Your eyes physically hurt from staring at the screens for hours. Suddenly, a pattern caught your attention. “Garcia, do you see that?” Your finger prodded the screen. She pulled her glasses so that they’d rest on top of her head, and leaned closer to the screen. She pulled a window from the top left corner so it would sit next to the one you two were looking at. Then, she pulled another picture from the fray of images and documents.

“A signature…”, the two of you muttered in unison. You locked eyes and shared a laugh.

“We finally found a pattern!”, you exclaimed, the life returning to your body as the joy flowed through you. Maybe it was because you were new, but making a connection like this and getting one step further to a solution felt so good. Garcia chuckled. You knitted your brows, looking over at her. “What?”

She gave you a sly smile. “You know you have to report to the boss, right?” Your heart sank in your chest. She was right. Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall.

“It’s kinda late, do you think he’s even still-?”

“(Y/N), you know damn well he’s still in his office. If he could, he’d live here. Now go!” She ushered you out the door, almost by full force, but not before trying to undo a button on your top. You swatted her hand away and left the room, the sound of her laughter fading with every step you took forward.

Entering the bullpen, there were few agents left for the night. Dr. Reid still lingered, hunched over and lost in his paperwork. He looked up when you walked in, eyes following you as you walked and ascended the stairs to Hotch’s office. Not that you knew his gaze tracked you; you were too nervous about being alone with Aaron in his office to notice anything other than the floor beneath your feet.

Your knuckles rapped softly on the door and you heard him call you in from the other side. You exhaled, trying to get yourself together. It was ridiculous, the effect he had on you. You wondered if he knew.

You turned the knob, pushing the door open and shutting it behind you. The desk lamp illuminated a stack of papers, his pen scrawling what was likely his signature on the bottom of a sheet of paper. He looked up momentarily, then his gaze fell back on his desk. “(Y/L/N). Did you and Garcia find anything?” The sound of your heels echoed in the room as you carried yourself to his desk. You took a seat in the cushioned leather chair that sat spaced evenly from his desk and another chair that looked exactly like it.

You cleared your throat before saying, “We did find a pattern, a signature on all the victims.” He perked up, raising an eyebrow at you. You presented your findings to him, careful to keep your voice steady and not make eye contact with him for too long. It then occurred to you there was really no reason to try to hide your feelings around him; he was, after all, one of the best profilers the BAU had ever seen. You were sure he already knew. Worth a shot to try and keep it hidden, though, you figured.

After your rant was over, he nodded approvingly, a small smile on his lips. “Great job, (Y/N).” Your heart pumped quicker in your chest at the sound of your first name on his voice. But his voice was different than usual, so was his tone. He was tired, resulting in his voice being barely an octave deeper. Which didn’t help your nerves settle.

“Thank you, sir.”, you said with a twinge of confidence in your tone. It made you happy to impress him; his validation made it feel like you were getting better at your job every day. He suddenly chuckled, and you weren’t sure why, until he spoke up.

“I told you, (Y/L/N), you can call me Hotch. Or Aaron, if you’d like.” He leaned forward in his chair more, dark amber eyes burning a hole through you. Did he ever offer anyone else to call him Aaron? You weren’t sure you’d ever heard anyone else call him that – not to his face, anyway. Other than Rossi, maybe. But they were close friends.

“Thanks, Hotch.”, you spoke softly, stifling a small yawn. You’d play it safe for now, but the gesture itself meant everything to you. He smiled, almost satisfyingly so, leaning back in his office chair. He raised his right wrist to look at his watch, noting the time, before meeting your eyes again.

“It’s late, (Y/L/N). You should head home. You’ve been a lot of help today, as usual, of course.” You would never get used to hearing him compliment you. Your eyes flickered between the stack of paperwork and him. You’ve spent enough time at the BAU to know that those files needed to be reviewed, signed, and done by the end of the weekend, which crept closer with every passing second. As amazing at his job as he was, there was no way humanly possible he’d finish it in time and get a wink of sleep at the same time.

“That’s a lot of paperwork.”, you noted aloud. He nodded, likely knowing where you were going with the words that would follow.

“It is.” His eyes narrowed at you, a small smirk playing on his face as he awaited your question.

“You can’t finish all of that and still have time to sleep.” He was silent. He knew you were right. “What can I do to help?”

Hotch just chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll burn yourself out, you know.” Nevertheless, he passed you a black ink pen, your fingertips brushing each other’s hands in the process.

“I could say the same thing about you.” He chuckles deeply and shrugs. You smile to yourself, successful in making him smile, which is a rare accomplishment for most.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as hours pass and the pile dwindles to only three or four files. The two of you migrated to the leather couch in his office, a more comfortable place to work on a tedious assignment for hours. You’d lost count of the yawns you’d let slip from your lips. Even Hotch seemed to have trouble staying awake. You glanced at the time. You’d been in his office for almost four hours. Your mind wandered to what Garcia will have to say about ‘what really happened last night’. The time slowly crept into the early morning hours of the next day.

“(Y/N)”, Hotch begins, breaking the silence. You look up at him, waiting on him to continue. “I’ll drive you home if you’re too tired to drive. And a ride back to the office in the morning for your car. But you can’t oversleep.”, he jokes. You hit his arm lightly.

“I don’t oversleep!”, you exclaim, trailing off. “That often.” You stifle a yawn before answering, “Let’s just finish these last few and I’ll drive myself home. I wouldn’t want to be in your way.”

His mind was filled with one thought: “How could you ever burden me, (Y/N)?”. But he didn’t answer you. He just handed you a file and took one for himself, the two of you finishing the workload quickly. On your last one, it took all your strength to focus on the words on the paper and your handwriting. It felt like the couch was pulling you in. The cushions wrapped you up, softer than how you’d imagine a cloud would feel. You didn’t mean to, but your eyes fluttered shut and stayed that way as you drifted to sleep.

Aaron didn’t even notice at first that you’d fallen asleep. He continued working, lost in the papers and his mind. He got so enveloped with the case, he hadn’t noticed the slow rise and fall of your chest and your body relaxed into his chest. Once he did notice though, that he wasn’t just being used as a cushion, it was all he could pay attention to.

It wasn’t that you always looked stressed, but it was a nice sight to see you so relaxed. He kept thinking about how you deserved it, what you might be dreaming about, even. Thinking about if it might’ve been him. A dread grew within him, knowing he’d have to wake you. He didn’t want to; you just looked so peaceful, angelic. Beautiful.

So he didn’t.

Instead, he draped a blanket – which he happened to have, thrown across the back of the couch, in case he had a late-night himself – over your resting form. He made sure to cover you fully, from below your neck to your toes, without waking you. Another thought soon crept into his head: he couldn’t just leave you here, overnight, alone.

He evaluated his options. He could try to sleep in his office chair, which he’d done before. It wasn’t the most comfortable. There was no room to lay down on the couch, for obvious reasons. He had a couple of chairs in the office, but…

His gaze fell upon you again. Was it risky, waging a war with fate in the chance that the two of you might be caught snuggling on the couch together? Absolutely, it was. But he was willing to take that chance. Besides, who could tell him, their boss, that he was wrong? Sure, the two of you may never quit hearing about it, but he wouldn’t mind. And something told him you wouldn’t either.

After doing a quick scan of the bullpen for remaining agents, and finding none, he shifted his weight ever so slowly, letting you fall gently onto the couch. He stepped quietly over to his desk to flick the lamp off, then closed the shades slowly, and shut the door, careful not to let the door handle click too loudly. He shrugged off his suit jacket and shoes, draping his jacket over your already-covered body.

He got as comfortable as possible on the cushion that he’d previously occupied, slowly, as to not shift the cushions and risk waking you. His eyes were trained on you; you never moved as he settled himself down. As cliché as it was, he seemed to fall asleep faster with you in the room.

-

The sun woke you up, in a disorienting way. The simple fact that the sun had woken you was strange in itself since the sun rises on the other side of your apartment complex. Suddenly, you remembered, you weren’t in your bed. The surface you were lying on was comfortable, but not your bed comfortable. The strangest thing was that your pillow was uneven. And warm. With a pulse.

Your eyes opened, and you instantly snapped them shut. Bad idea. The sun hurt your sensitive eyes, and a groan involuntarily slipped from your lips. You sat up, stretching out all your limbs. You looked over at your ‘pillow’, putting a heartbeat, chest and a smell to a face. The blanket and jacket you were covered with smelled of him, so you didn’t need to open your eyes to know who it was.

“Aaron?”, you asked in a sleepy voice. Your eyes finally focused, the sun losing its effect on you. He was awake. How long had he been…?

“Good morning, (Y/N). If you want a ride home to change out of yesterday’s clothes, I can drop you off on my way home.” A small smirk danced on his pink, soft-looking lips, the sun sparkling in his eyes like rays of light through a glass of whiskey. You started panicking. What if the team caught you like this? Would they tell Strauss? What if you lost your job?

“(Y/N).” You’d broken eye contact with him. He knew you were freaking out. You met his gaze again. “Nobody’s here. It’s eight o’clock, on a Sunday morning. Calm down.” Regret started flooding his mind. Should he have just taken you home? You exhaled a breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. “Are you okay?”, he asked you.

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” You rubbed your eyes, realizing too late you were wearing makeup, smearing it over the rest of your face. “Oh, shit.” You looked down at your hands, laughing at yourself. “I probably look a mess.”

Hotch laughed. “No, you don’t.” The words slipped from Aaron’s tired lips, no thought behind them. But it was true, it was how he felt. A blush crept up your neck and to your cheeks. Suddenly it was harder to meet his eyes. You chuckled nervously.

“Thanks, Hotch.” You wrung your fingers through your hands. A truthful atmosphere fell over the room, it seemed. “That was the best sleep I’d had in a while.” Hotch was a little taken aback at your honesty but flattered. He blushed a bit himself. He cleared his throat, then laughed.

“Me too, honestly.”, he muttered in a deep morning voice. Your eyes met. There wasn’t much space between the two of you in the first place, but you could’ve sworn he leaned forward to close the distance. His huge hand gently caressed your face, his thumb rubbing over your cheek. You watched his eyes flicker from yours to your lips. You could feel the blood rushing to your heart; you wondered if he could feel it running through your veins against his fingers.

His lips brushed against yours when suddenly, the alarm on his phone went off. The two of you jumped back like you’d been shot, your heart rate climbing. “Jesus Christ, Aaron.”, you exclaim, laughing to try and hide how startled you were. You hear him curse under his breath, digging his phone out of his pocket and silencing it. He sighed, shaking his head. He chuckled at himself, you assumed.

“I’m sorry.”, he said lowly. The apology wasn’t very specific towards anything; if it was, it wasn’t clear to you. How many things was he apologizing for? What thoughts were running through his head? He was hard to read, but maybe he liked it that way.

“For what?”, you asked softly, scooting closer to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. You felt him tense under your hand, then relax. He looked up at you.

“For ruining that…”, he trailed off as his eyes met yours. He searched your face, trying to understand exactly what feelings you were experiencing. Hopefully, he knew you weren’t upset with him. Your hand snaked down his arm, taking his hand in yours. Now it was your turn to cup his face in your hand; you felt his five o’clock shadow prickling against your fingers, but his cheek was soft as you smoothed it under your thumb.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”, you whispered. His eyes were a dark brown, despite the sunlight coming in. The rays were softer now, an orange color. His dark eyelashes shone under the light. He was enthralling in every way. You felt yourself falling harder and harder for him every second, especially now, but you’d never change that.

Your thumb lightly brushed over his lips, taking him in. He watched your every move, just as entranced with you as you were with him. You felt his hand behind your neck, pulling you closer to him until your lips finally touched. His lips on yours were better than you could’ve ever anticipated. He was slow, soft, gentle, like rain in the spring. Then again, there was a need behind it. A longing; he’d been waiting for this as long as you have, maybe even longer.

You wanted to kiss him all day, be in his arms and wrap yourselves up in each other. You were falling, hard. Harder than hitting every branch on the way down, harder than the way the first boom of a firework echoes in your chest.

Both of you were breathless by now, but neither of you seemed to care about the lack of oxygen. The kiss was deeper now, hotter, needier, messier. You’d thrown a knee over his lap, your hands fisted in his white button-up. His hands rested on your sides, dangerously low past the waistband of your pants. His lips suddenly broke from yours, the sound of your heavy breathing filling the room. He never stopped for a breath; his lips were making up for lost time, trailing from your chin, down your neck. He took his time with you, as you’d always imagined he would.

You’d barely caught your breath when you whisper his name in his ear. He stopped, pulling back. “(Y/N)? Are you okay?” His concerned eyes searched your face. You didn’t answer him with any words, just by kissing his lips again but only for a moment. The single kiss took a lot of your self-control, but you knew you were moving fast.

“I’ve never been better, Aaron. But…”, you said in a low voice, trailing a finger down his neck until you hit the first button on his shirt. “I want to take it slow with you, Hotch. I want to know all your little quirks and I want to be there for the stuff that you don’t do in front of anyone else because you trust me that much. I know how sappy it sounds…”, you paused, watching for his reaction through your spill so far. He watched you move and speak like you were the most important thing he’d ever had to pay attention to. And that’s exactly what you were to him. “Aaron,” you started again, running one of your hands through his hair, “I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for you. And here you are, everything I’ve ever wanted, right in front of me.”

How did he feel? He answered you with a kiss, one more passionate than any from earlier – if you could believe it, that is. “(Y/N)...you’re everything I’ve been waiting on. I can’t believe I’ve gone this long without you.” You chuckled, earning a small smile from him.

“Well, good luck getting rid of me now, Aaron Hotchner.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

-

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[bondsmagii]

My wife writes online recipes.

It’s just a little hobby of hers. I don’t really get it myself. She’s a great cook, and she gets a lot of great comments on her recipes – she’s one of those people who’s just good at teaching, you know, makes everything super simple and easy to follow – but she tends to write absolute essays at the top of all her recipes. Backstory, where she got the recipe from, how she adapted it over the years. It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just a lot of words, and I’m not a chef. I don’t know what she means by half of it. I look at the pictures, though. She’s a great food photographer as well. Manages to make the food look great – no shininess there, no congealing. It’s a neat little page, and she enjoys doing it, so what’s the harm?

Only thing is, she always stays up really late to update it. There’s no reason why she does this, that I can see. When I’ve asked, she just tells me she was busy during the day and had no time, and I believed her for a while. Then I began to notice that it didn’t matter how busy she was – she’d always wait until one, maybe two in the morning. Then I’d hear her downstairs, tapping away on the keyboard. Once, she even got up to do it. Like, out of bed. I was too tired to ask at the time, but during breakfast she just gave me a blank look and told me I must have been dreaming. We got into a bit of an argument about it, actually. I was so sure I hadn’t been, but… now I’m not as sure. I’ve definitely seen her down there, though. Late at night, when she thinks I’m asleep. I’ve stood at the top of the stairs, where I can just make her out on the couch. She writes with such grim concentration. She doesn’t look much like she’s enjoying it at the time. Looks like she hates it, if I’m honest. Then I’ll catch her reading it back during the day, and she’s smiling again. Perhaps the writing process, I don’t know.

One day I got kind of curious. That night, at about four in the morning, I woke up to my wife getting quietly out of bed and tiptoeing downstairs. Sure enough, soon I heard her fingers going over that keyboard at a rapid pace, like something had driven her out of bed and had her in a frenzy. I was so curious as to what simply couldn’t wait until morning. I thought about asking her over breakfast again, but I didn’t want a repeat of last time. Instead I went back to sleep, and when I woke up she was in the shower like she was every morning, and I pulled up her recipe site on my phone.

The latest recipe – the one she had posted that morning – started off normal. A greeting, a quick update about her life. The first thing that struck me as odd was in the second paragraph. Only a little thing, but still. She said that she was up so late typing the recipe because she hadn’t been able to sleep, but that was a lie. She had been sleeping soundly when I’d come to bed, and when I got up a few hours later to get a drink. Why would she lie about something like that?

More normal paragraphs followed. She talked about where she had picked the recipe up, about barbeques when she had been a little girl. There was a real poetry to how she described those late summer afternoons, the lazy drone of the bees, the golden air. It was beautiful, but I wondered just how many people actually read all of this stuff, and how many people scrolled rapidly down to the recipe. The thought caused a pang of sympathy to go through me. She worked so hard on these introductions, and the thought of nobody reading them made me feel heavy. Then I saw it. About five lines in, at the seventh large paragraph.

Now everyone has stopped reading, here’s what you really need to know.

I sat up a little straighter.

This recipe has a slightly stronger sauce, because the meat wasn’t as fresh as I would like. If you have fresher meat, you’ll probably want to reduce the ingredients by half, or if you don’t mind strong flavours, adjust to taste.

I sank back a little, disappointed. What had I expected to find, really? The water in the shower changed in pitch as my wife moved around under the jet, and I found myself tuned in, listening for the creak that would let me know she was stepping out of the tub. For some reason, I did not want to be caught doing this.

I caught this one on Friday night. Friday evenings are good, because a lot of people go out on the trails. They take some of the longer ones, because they have the next day off. Unfortunately when I went to check the snares, a bunch of teenagers were using the parking lot to goof around and drink, so I had to wait hours before I could collect the catch. You’ve read about how my snares are designed in the Long Pulled Pork and Slaw recipe, so you can see my problem here, lol! The snare worked perfectly, but obviously the meat had been dead for a few hours by the time I had it up and out of there, and I’m a sticker for getting to it as quickly as possible.

Here's the thing. My wife is not a hunter. She has no problem with eating meat, and she can cook up a mean steak and pull pork better than any restaurant I’ve ever been to, but she’s never had any interest in catching the animals she cooks herself. She goes to local places for the meat, likes to source it farm to fork, but snares? She’s never mentioned snares once. She doesn’t own any hunting rifles. She’s never been hunting in her life. I have no idea what she’s talking about. I wonder, briefly, if she’s delusional – some highly specific delusion from a condition that somehow impacts no other part of her life – and then I scroll up slightly and click the link to the pork and slaw.

This time the extra information is hidden in the fifteenth paragraph, in the middle of a long-winded but beautifully written story about catching fireflies with her little sister.

They showed me how to make the snares when I was nineteen years old. It’s fairly time-consuming to set up, but well worth it! If you’re interested please don’t hesitate to email me for more information, but it’s my little secret so I don’t want it right out in the open ;) The important thing to know is that the snares are quick and humane, and designed to kill the catch immediately. This is why it’s super important to check them regularly! The longer the catch is dead, the more the taste of the meat is affected – and this meat needs so much work to begin with in order to make it palatable. You don’t want to give yourself extra work! (And for those of you wondering about the obvious, don’t. They will take care of the rest of the body. This is the payment for using their techniques, and besides, we couldn’t eat that much anyway! My husband and I barely make a dent in all the food I have stored away in the freezer. Just take the cut you want, and leave the rest to them.)

The shower was still going strong, and I got to my feet before I could think too much about it. I was starting to realise I might have made a mistake, leaving all the cooking to my wife. She loves it – cooking is her real passion in life – and I’m abysmal at it, so it makes sense. Having said that, I should have probably taken more of an interest in what it was, exactly, that she was cooking.

There’s a huge box freezer in our garage. I never look in it. She doesn’t like me to, anyway. She has everything arranged and knows where it is, and she likes to be able to run out and grab something without wasting too much time. It felt almost dishonest to crack the lid and peer in – like I was snooping in her diary. All I can see are bags upon bags of frozen meat, but that’s not unusual. She stocks up sometimes. You can never be too careful. Like I said, I’m no chef, so I can’t make heads nor tails of it. It’s dark meat, red, and I mean, it’s really dark. Beef, maybe. Venison. Is she out there catching deer in snares? If so, why would she have to wait until the teenagers had gone to bring it out? It’s not illegal to hunt deer around here – not at this time of the year. And why wouldn’t she mention it to me at all?

Cautiously, I move a few of the packages. My hand closes around a strangely shaped one and I pull it out so I can see better. My heart skips a beat before I realise it’s probably just for her stock. She makes stock out of bones, you see, so it’s not unusual to see a whole shin bone in the freezer.

Except this shin bone is long and thick. It doesn’t look like any kind of shin bone I’d expect from an animal. Looking at it, it’s about the length of mine.

You know, I never could quite place the flavour of the steaks she’s been serving me.

I swallow hard. I slide the shin bone back into its place. I realise, too late, that the gurgle of the pipes stopped long ago. I realise, also too late, that I left my phone on the bed.

I think I hear the garage door creak.

[recurring-polynya]

[Renji birthday] Hey, hi. What about Orihime does smt to surprise Renji for his birthday, a thank-you him helping her at New Year celebration? Include fireworks that Renji secretly enjoys? Thanks. Anything (fic, hcs, sketch..) is fine.

I’m sorry this is late, but it’s still the Renji - Orihime Birthday Weekend, so I think it’s okay!

I love the idea of the Renji - Orihime BroTP, but somehow it’s so hard for me to write, I always do a bunch of false starts or get stuck. For this round of prompts, I was trying to do the ones that inspired me the most and I liked the idea a lot more than I had ideas, if you get my drift. Anyway, I love them both too much, though, so I muscled through.

I’m sorry if this is a little ramble-y and quite silly and I didn’t manage to squeeze in fireworks (I’ve written several fireworks scenes in the past and didn’t want to repeat myself), but what it is is four thousand words long. Also, I managed to remember that Kon exists, this is possibly the first time I have ever put Kon in anything. I hope you like it!

Read on ao3 or ff.net

🎁    🎈    🎊

“Inoue,” Renji hissed. “Why am I here?”

Orihime took a quick step backwards as Keigo ran past, screaming. Ryo followed a second later, also screaming. Renji, who had served at Squad 11 for many years, managed to leap out of the way just in time. “It’s Ichigo’s birthday party,” Orihime explained. “He wanted you to come.”

“It’s not though,” Renji pressed. “It’s Arisawa’s birthday, and we’re at Arisawa’s house. I don’t think Arisawa even knows who I am.”

“Yes, she does, silly,” Orihime replied. “I told her lots of stories about you and she said she wanted you to come. There’ll probably be a football match later, and Ichigo told her we could have you on our team, as long as he got Rukia.”

“I got hauled in all the way from Soul Society for football?” Renji asked, sounding not-at-all upset about this.

“No, I told you! Ichigo wanted you to come.”

“But it’s not his birthday.”

“But it is his party. He and Tatsuki share, you see, because their birthdays are so close and they have all the same friends. It’s Tatsuki’s year to host the big friend party. Ichigo just had a little family party on his actual birthday.”

“Ohhhhh,” Renji replied, finally understanding. He nodded for a moment. “What’s a family party?”

---

Orihime cleared her throat, and tapped her in her palm. “Thank you all for coming to this very important meeting.”

Chad, Ichigo, and Tatsuki were all crammed together on Orihime’s couch. Rukia sat on the arm, next to Chad, Kon in her lap. Uryuu sat in Orihime’s desk chair, which she had hauled in from her room.

Orihime thwapped her pointer against the large pad of paper on an easel that she had borrowed from the Student Health Advisors Club. On the first page, she had drawn a large picture of Renji and written his name. “It has come to my attention that Our Friend Renji has never had a Family Birthday Party.”

“Quick question--” Tatsuki interrupted. “Is he wearing a… fur bolero in that picture? And is the bone dragon an actual thing or just...Orihime artistic spice?”

“It’s a cowl,” Rukia said, at the same time as Chad said, “It’s a stole,” and Uryuu said “It’s a capelet.”

“Thank you, that cleared up nothing,” Tatsuki replied.

“It’s his bankai form,” Ichigo said, grumpily. “His sword turns into a giant flying snake skeleton that screams like a pterodactyl. It’s super sick and he let me ride on it twice and that cape thing is really soft, actually, but he says it gets hot. As far as I know it has nothing to do with his birthday.”

“Er, no, I just got carried away while I was drawing,” Orihime admitted. “Your bankai is very cool, too, Kurosaki-kun.”

“Got it, right,” Tatsuki nodded, sounding very much like she just wanted to move on. “He doesn’t have a family?”

“I think you’re worrying over nothing, Orihime,” Rukia said, sounding a teensy bit defensive. “Many people in Soul Society don’t have families. If there’s anyone in Soul Society who’s good at scraping up friends to spend a holiday with, it’s Renji. Everyone likes him. Half the Gotei turns up at the bar for his birthday parties.”

“I know that,” Orihime said quietly. “I know that because last New Year’s, when I was lonely, he played badminton with me, even though he was very, very hungover and pretending like he wasn’t, and then he went and rounded up all my friends in the middle of the night, and before he left, he told me there was nothing wrong with making your own holiday. But family birthdays are different! Family birthdays are about the people who love you most doing special things, just for you!” Orihime set her jaw. “When I was little, Sora always tried to make my birthdays super special! We didn’t have a lot of extra money, but he would take the day off just to spend it with me and we would go to the park or watch movies or he would let me paint his nails and braid his hair. He would take a picture of me and put it in my special birthday album with my height and weight and current favorite food.” Orihime’s mouth snapped shut. Everyone was staring at her. She’d said too much, just like she always did. Her cheeks started to burn.

“When I was little,” Ichigo suddenly said, a little bit too loud, “my mom told us that we could have whatever we wanted for dinner on our birthdays. One year, I…” he paused, his eyes darting over to Tatsuki. “I had just seen Kiki’s Delivery Service, and I was obsessed with that fish and pumpkin casserole the old lady makes?”

Orihime gasped, and clapped her hands over her mouth.

Uryuu rolled his eyes. “Who wasn’t, Kurosaki?”

Ichigo snorted, but his shoulders relaxed a little. “Anyway, it took her most of the day, and I think she must’ve gotten really frustrated at some point because me and my sisters got sent over to Tatsuki’s house so the Old Man could help her. It came out kind of lumpy and huge, but it was delicious, it was exactly what I had imagined it would taste like.”

“I remember that thing,” Tatsuki added. “She made us come over for dinner because there was so much of it. It was incredible.”

“We didn’t do Birthday Dinners for a few years after she died,” Ichigo said slowly. “But then after Yuzu got good at cooking, she said she wanted to try doing it again. My dad really likes the Godfather movies and he always used to ask for spaghetti for his birthday, which it turns out isn’t that hard to make. Karin and me helped out, and we’ve been doing it again ever since. We don’t usually do fancy stuff, it’s just nice to get to pick.”

“Ichigo made me omurice on my birthday and let me use his body to eat it!” Kon announced.

“You didn’t have to tell everyone that,” Ichigo stammered, turning pink. “It’s the only thing I’m good at making.”

“My abuelo always used to sing Las Mañanitas on my birthday,” Chad put in. “First thing in the morning. Sometimes he would come into my room and wake me up. Sometimes I would come down for breakfast and he would be there, with his guitar. He wouldn’t even say ‘good morning’ until he’d sung Las Mañanitas.”

Orihime’s spirits lifted a little. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”

Rukia crossed her arms over her chest. “Renji gets up at the crack of dawn. I’m certainly not going over to his place to sing at him while he mixes up his horrible protein beverages.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have to be exactly that,” Orihime went on. “I just thought, since his birthday was coming up in a few weeks, maybe we could throw him a party here, in the World of the Living that was… I don’t know… a little more heartfelt than just going out drinking.”

“I think that’s a very thoughtful idea, Inoue,” Uryuu said.

“Oh! I was worried you wouldn’t want to help, because… you know.”

“I had a row with Ryuuken last week,” Uryuu sniffed. “I’m honestly in the mood to do something nice for a shinigami. Besides, it’s Abarai, he doesn’t really count anymore.” He paused for a moment. “You either, of course, Kuchiki.”

“You wanna have it at my house?” Ichigo offered. “Since me and Tatsuki are the only ones with backyards, and I don’t imagine Tatsuki would want to explain this to her mom.”

“I appreciate that,” Tatsuki put in. “I can help though, if you want. In my family, we like to decorate, and I still have a bunch of streamers and balloons left over from last week.” She gestured at Orihime’s drawing. “We could probably make him a banner or something out of that. It’s pretty good!”

“Oh, that’s such a good idea!” Orihime exclaimed. She should have known her friends would be helpful. She flipped to a new page on her notepad, and began to write things down.

“I can help decorate!” Kon piped up. “I am very artistic, you know!”

“I can bring my guitar,” Chad offered. “I don’t know if Abarai wants to hear me sing…”

Ichigo shoved him in the shoulder. “Shut up. We always want to hear you sing and you never do. If Renji doesn’t want to hear you sing, he’s got no taste and also, he can suck it.”

Rukia rubbed her forehead, like she felt a headache coming on. “Renji goes to all his friends’ poetry readings and community theater and open mic nights. I am sure he would be overjoyed to be serenaded by Chad.”

“What about you, Uryuu?” Orihime asked. “I know you and your father don’t get along, but is there anything that you associate with feeling special on your birthday?”

Uryuu’s face contorted for a moment. “Ah, there is, but I’m sure it’s not helpful.”

“Maybe it will give us an idea,” Chad prodded.

Uryuu frowned. “Well, when I was very small, my mother used to make me a new kimono every year. She was… a very skilled seamstress.” He frowned. “I don’t have Abarai’s measurements, and besides, he couldn’t take it back to Soul Society anyway.”

Kon perked up. “Ichigo! Ichigo, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Ichigo jabbed a finger Uryuu. “Yuzu just got a bedazzler and she has a ton of t-shirt paint! We could bedazzle him a t-shirt! For his gigai! I’ll even keep it in my closet for him with all of Rukia’s crap!”

“Kurosaki, no,” Uryuu insisted.

“Kurosaki, yes,” Ichigo insisted. “It’s like you’ve never even met the man. I’m gonna make the most Renji t-shirt you’ve ever seen and he’s gonna love it so hard he’ll make me his new best friend.”

“I want to help,” Chad put in.

“You may,” Ichigo replied magnanimously.

“It was my idea-- whoa, Rukia, watch out!” Kon cried as he went tumbling to the ground.

Rukia was practically crawling over Chad, trying to punch Ichigo in the head. “He’s my best friend, you ass!”

“He is for now,” Ichigo replied ominously.

“You are my beloved protege, but I will end you, Kurosaki.”

“Kuchiki-san?” Orihime asked tentatively. “Do you think you could come up with a way to get him to come here? I think it should be a surprise, so you would probably have to make up a story...I understand if you don’t want to.”

Rukia looked up from where she was half-hanging over Chad’s shoulder. “Of course I can do that. I love lying to Renji. He can usually tell when I’m lying to him, but he’ll go along with whatever I say anyway.”

“Oh, good!” Orihime replied, a wave of relief washing over her. She had no idea how they would get Renji here otherwise. Mr. Urahara, maybe. Maybe.

Rukia’s brows creased as she rearranged herself to sit on the back of the couch between Chad and Ichigo. “Did you think I would say no?”

“Well… it didn’t seem like you thought this was a very good idea.”

Rukia’s cheeks colored and she waved her hands. “No, no! It’s not that at all! I think it’s a great idea! It’s really sweet of all of you. Renji’s so easy-going, people always… never mind! I’ll help however I can!”

“Try to find out what meal he might like,” Uryuu suggested. Kon was now sitting on his head. “That sounded nice and I can help cook.”

“That’s a no-brainer,” Rukia replied. “He hasn’t stopped talking about Chad’s burritos since the Advance Team mission ended.”

“Burritos are easy,” Chad agreed, “especially if Uryuu helps.”

“What about you, Rukia?” Tatsuki asked. “You have a brother, right? What do you do for family birthdays in Soul Society?”

Ichigo made a Big Yikes face, and Rukia shoved him in the head again. Orihime had stayed with the Kuchiki siblings when she was training in Soul Society, and while Byakuya could be pretty stiff, she was under the impression that he and Rukia were both working to have a better relationship.

“Kuchiki birthdays are very formal,” Rukia said regally, and then frowned. “Mostly, a bunch of Honored Relatives come over for dinner and you have to wear fancy clothes and it’s kind of a pain.” She thought for a moment. “Brother gave me a beautiful set of colored pencils for my last birthday. It’s hard to buy him presents, because he’s so particular and he usually just buys the things that he wants. He writes a lot of letters, though, so I went to my favorite stationery store and bought him some pretty paper I thought he would like. I figured that if I picked wrong, he could just use it to send letters to people he hates.” Rukia’s eyes softened. “He really liked it, actually. I guess he’s not very used to getting gifts that people have spent any time thinking about.”

“Thoughtful gifts are such a nice idea!” Orihime nodded eagerly.

“It’s hard, though,” Uryuu added, “because of the whole matter conversion issue.”

“What,” Ichigo bit off, “is not thoughtful about a t-shirt covered in rhinestones?”

“If all of you help me think of something, I will buy it for him back in Soul Society,” Rukia promised. “Not sunglasses, though. I already bought him sunglasses.”

“Isn’t his birthday, like a month away?” Ichigo frowned.

“Sometimes I plan ahead! Shut up!” Rukia scowled. “Brother and I also like to make each other cards. Brother is an amazing artist, obviously, mine hardly compare to his, but he is very gracious about my efforts.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, Rukia!” Orihime agreed, writing down “cards” on her notes. She looked over her list. “I think this is shaping up to be a very good birthday!”

---

“Thanks for agreeing to come along,” Rukia said to Renji when he showed up at her front door on the morning of August 31. “How’s your head?”

“I feel great, but I hydrate tirelessly and also, I wasn’t the one who got into a drinking contest with Captain Komamura. How’s your head?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rukia replied.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just go? I’m sure I can-- did I read your text right? Ichigo got his soul stuck in Kon’s lion body and we have to go get him out? I… can probably handle that if you need to stay home and sleep it off.”

“Learn to read, oaf. Ichigo got his soul stuck in Kon’s lion body and we are going to laugh at him. Obviously, I wouldn’t miss that for anything.”

“Ahhhh, okay, that makes a lot more sense!”

“C’mon, we should get moving before Orihime takes pity on him or something.” She waved him inside. “Don’t worry, Brother said it was fine to use the family senkaimon.”

“Ah, good morning, Captain!” Renji said, his voice bright with nervous energy.

Rukia turned around and blinked. Sure enough, Byakuya was looming in the foyer. He had definitely not been in the entry thirty seconds ago.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” Byakuya replied. “How delightful to see you in my house on a Sunday morning.”

“Brother, we talked about this,” Rukia pressed. “We had a whole discussion.”

Byakuya ignored her and plowed on. “I did not expect to see you today, but since you are here, I have something for you.” He held out a handsome, hardcover book. Gingerly, Renji accepted it and frowned at the cover. “It is the next book in the Tales of the Iron Army series,” Byakuya explained. “You are a fan of that series, are you not?”

Renji’s mouth gaped a little. “This isn’t… out… yet…”

“The publisher is an acquaintance of mine,” Byakuya said, looking off into the middle distance. “He offered me an advance copy, so I asked for two.”

“Uh, um, thanks, sir!” Renji managed.

“Think nothing of it,” Byakuya said stiffly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am extremely busy this morning.”

Rukia stared, gape-mouthed at the spot where Byakuya had been standing a moment previous. She wasn’t allowed to use shunpo in the house.

“What?” Renji choked out.

“Sometimes people just give him things,” Rukia shrugged, trying to play it off, but secretly fuming. She had told Byakuya that Renji was coming over and to (1) not mention his birthday and (2) not be weird. 0 for 2, Brother.

“Rukia,” Renji reiterated, and when she finally looked over, he was holding up a little slip of cardstock that had apparently been tucked into the front cover of the book. On it was painted a little watercolor Wakame Ambassador. He was wearing a humorous hat. In Byakuya’s immaculate calligraphy were the words ‘Congratulations. You are now older. You will still never defeat me.’ Renji stared at Rukia, as if this were somehow her fault. “W-h-a-t?” he mouthed very slowly and deliberately, no actual sound coming out of his mouth.

“Give me that!” Rukia snapped, grabbing both the book and the card out of his hand. “I told him we were going to the Living World, I don’t know why he couldn’t have given you this when we got back. Mikan!”

Rukia’s loyal maid immediately appeared at her elbow. “Yes, miss?”

Renji blinked. “How does everyone in this house move like that?”

“Hold onto this for Renji until we get back, okay? You can put it with the, um, other stuff.”

“Yes, miss.”

“What other stuff?” Renji asked, a grin tugging at the side of his mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You just said ‘put it with the other stuff’?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You must have misheard, Lieutenant Abarai,” Mikan added sweetly.

“Maybe you should clean your ears out once in a while, dummy,” Rukia suggested.

“Are we really going to the Living World today, or was it just a ploy to get me over here?” Renji asked, doing a double take when he realized that Mikan had disappeared again.

“We’re really going!” Rukia protested, marching into the bowels of the house. “‘A ploy’, ha! You wish.”

“It is my birthday,” Renji pointed out, sounding a little suspicious.

“And we had your birthday party last night! What more do you want?”

“Nothing, actually! Very good birthday, as birthdays go!” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Thanks for coming, by the way.”

Rukia rolled her eyes. “As if I wouldn’t come.”

Renji shrugged. “Well…you didn’t, for a long time. And those weren’t as fun. So thanks. For coming.”

Rukia opened her mouth and then closed it again. She didn’t know what to say to that.

Fortunately, Renji had a keen instinct for changing the subject when things got awkward. “Were you there when Rangiku’s boob fell out? She says that since it was the right one, it’s a sign that this is going to be an auspicious year for me.”

“I did! I was talking to Momo and we were basically at Ground Zero when it happened! I can’t believe Hisagi was in the restroom.”

“He’s probably still sobbing about it.”

They continued to recap the best parts of the party as they traveled through the senkaimon and picked up their gigai from Urahara’s, but there was something nagging at Rukia, something that had been nagging at her ever since Orihime, with her giant, squishy heart, had suggested that Renji deserved something better on his birthday, something which Rukia knew was unequivocally true.

“Oi, Renji,” she said suddenly as they turned onto Ichigo’s street. Renji was in the middle of a story about Iba’s sideburns, but she’d heard it before, and they both knew he was only telling it to fill the time.

“Eh?” he replied.

“I, uh, I just wanted to say, I’m sorry that our birthdays were so shitty growing up,” she said quickly. “Sorry in the sympathy sense, not the guilt sense. We were just kids, it’s not like there’s much more we could have done. Just... it sucked and it’s not fair and I’m sorry.”

Renji was staring at her with a look of mild horror on his face. “You thought our birthdays sucked?”

Rukia stared back at him. “They weren’t great, that’s for sure.”

Renji’s face fell a little. “Oh. I’m sorry you feel that way. We… we did try, you know. I remember stealing blankets for your birthday, to make sure we had enough for all of us. We always used to try to make sure we had something to eat that day, too.”

Rukia flushed. “I wasn’t talking about me, dummy!” She paused. “You did? Crap. Now I feel even worse.”

“My birthday’s in August,” Renji shrugged. “We didn’t need to worry about freezing our asses off. And we almost always managed to do something fun that day. Going fishing or making a bonfire or lying on the roof and looking at the stars.” Renji gave a rueful little chuckle. “You know, it’s fun when everyone gets together to get smashed on my birthday, but there are so many people and you can hardly hear what anyone is saying. Those old days… I dunno. I guess maybe they just felt a little more personal. When we were here on Tatsuki and Ichigo’s birthday, Orihime was telling me about family birthdays, and I think our old birthdays were a lot like that. Just some nice time spent with the people I like best.”

“You’re such a sap,” Rukia said, trying to keep her voice from wobbling.

“Like you didn’t know that,” Renji snorted. “I’m definitely gonna give Ichigo a hard time, but I’m actually kinda glad he managed to pull this bonehead move on my actual birthday. It’s a good excuse to come see him, and I got to spend a little quality time with you, to boot. Was kinda nice to see the captain, actually, even though he made a quick exit.” Renji sucked his teeth for a moment. “After we get Ichigo sorted, I don’t ‘spose you’d mind taking a little stroll around town and seeing what the other kids are up to today?”

Rukia had her hand on the gate that led to the Kurosaki back yard. “That… could probably be arranged.” She pushed the gate open.

“SURPRISE!”

Confetti filled the air. Someone was blowing an air horn. Everyone (except Uryuu) was wearing very bedazzled t-shirts. Even Kon, sitting on Chad’s shoulder, wore a tiny one with an even tinier lion on it.

“Happy birthday, Renji!”

“Happy birthday, you old geezer!”

“We made you burritos!”

Rukia looked up at Renji. He had one hand clapped over his mouth and his eyes were wide. “Happy birthday, dumbass,” she said softly.

“Excuse me, I will be right back,” Renji said, turning on his heel and walking out the gate.

Orihime’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no! What did we do?”

Rukia held up her hands. “Just give him a second, he’s fine.”

The Karakura kids barely had time to exchange worried glances when Renji burst back in through the gate, at full volume. “What the Hell is this?” he roared. “And where did you get those t-shirts?”

“We made them!” Ichigo shouted back, and thrust a poorly wrapped bundle into Renji’s hands. “We made you one, too!”

Renji enthusiastically tore open his present and held up its contents. “Rukia,” he gasped. “Rukia, look.”

“Chad drew the Hihiou Zabimaru,” Ichigo explained proudly. “I was the one who wrote ‘OH YEAH!!’”

“It’s so beautiful,” Renji sniffed. “Here, Rukia, hold this!” He shoved the shirt into Rukia’s arms and immediately began to wrestle off the one he was currently wearing.

“Uh… buddy…” Tatsuki frowned, trying to throw her hand up in front of Orihime’s eyes, but also unable to tear her eyes away. “That is… a lot… of tattoos…”

“It’s okay, we’ve all seen it,” Orihime reassured her, pushing Tatsuki’s hand away.

“Never mind seeing it again,” Kon added philosophically.

“How does it look?” Renji asked, once he’d gotten dressed again. He was flexing his biceps for good measure.

“It’s a little tight,” Rukia replied, but it didn’t stop her from looking.

“That’s how hot people wear their clothes, Rukia,” Ichigo informed her. “Get with it.”

“I love this so much!” Renji declared, looking down at his own torso again. “I can’t believe you all made this for me. I am so happy!”

“Brace yourself, Abarai,” Uryuu said, “but this is about 1% of the birthday festivities Orihime planned for you.”

Orihime’s cheeks turned pink and she waved her hands frantically. “Everyone chipped in, I hardly did anything!”

“We know you don’t like cake, so we put a candle in a burrito for you,” Ichigo said, jerking his thumb toward the picnic table. “Come sit in front of it, so Chad can sing you your birthday song.”

“We saved you the lawn chair without any wobbly legs,” Kon added generously.

On his way past, Renji slung his arm around Orihime’s shoulders. “Thanks, kid,” he murmured.

Orihime looked up at him. “You’re our friend and I just wanted you to know how special we think you are on your birthday.”

Renji stared at her for a moment, an expression on his face like he wasn’t sure how to make words come out. Suddenly, he tightened his elbow around his neck and crashed the knuckles of his other hand fiercely into her scalp. “I love all of you, too!” he laughed.

“You can’t noogie Orihime!” Ichigo and Tatsuki yelled at the same time, and promptly tripped over each other in an attempt to tackle him. Uryuu flung a pinecone at Renji’s head. With his typical perfect aim, it would have been a direct hit, except that Kon had leapt from Chad’s shoulder directly into its trajectory and got beaned in the face instead.

Orihime was laughing and shouting “That tickles, that tickles!” Renji was cackling. Chad stood, dumbfounded, his guitar hanging around his neck.

“Rukia… avenge us…” Ichigo groaned from the ground.

“On one hand, it’s his birthday and Renji should get to noogie whomever he wants,” Rukia declared loftily. “On the other hand, Orihime is a precious angel. On the third hand, suck it, Abarai!”

She launched herself at him.

[sixstepsaway]

Writeblr/Artblr/Tumblr Introduction 2022

Hi, hello, I am Jess. I'm 29, mostly femme, any/all pronouns you literally cannot fuck my pronouns up, you also can't misgender me lmao, ADHD and autistic, and I've been on Tumblr since... Oh no. I must have been 16 or 17? Yikes. 2009, ish. With different blogs. I find it hard to maintain multiple social medias and have mostly been doomscrolling Twitter for a few years, but I always end up coming back to tumblr, I guess and let's just say my page is, right now, a bit of a WIP again because things have changed since 2020.

Anyway I am a Jess of all Trades, I do a little bit of pretty much everything. I draw, I write, I code, I do videos-- honestly, I do too much to list, so let's do some sub-lists.

About Me:

I am pro-ship, pro-expression, pro-fiction, anti-capitalism, anti-radfem, pro-kink, anti-terf and anti-swerf and big time anti-censorship. I don't believe that just because GRRM writes about twins murdering children he thinks twins should go murder children. It's art. It's a book. I believe that fiction is often an escape. Fiction is not reality.

If you don't agree with that you likely won't enjoy my blog or my work? So yeah.

I'm also hecking queer as heck and make it everyone else's problem, much like my hyperfixations, I believe in practicing radical kindness though I don't believe in being nice to the detriment of myself and others (for example I like helping out when I can if I see a GFM or something like that, but if someone tells me to Kay Why Ess I'm going to tell them to go fuck themselves with a cactus, ya know?), and I'm constantly working on my mental health and my life outlook.

What I Write:

♥ Speculative fiction (sci-fi, fantasy, superheroes etc) ♥ Queer. I might write M/F relationships sometimes, but all my work is queer at its core. ♥ Genre-bending/mixing: I love a good space romcom or fantasy slice of life or whatever. I like mixing it up. ♥ Long AF/Episodic: Most of my work runs long and written like reading a TV series. All my work has 'volumes', a lot of them have 'parts'. Runners, for example, is three parts each with three volumes a piece. ♥ Often 'problematic'. I like dark fiction as well as happy fun times! ♥ Fanfic. Usually E-rated.

My Current WIPs:

🌿 RUNNERS : Believing them to be their saviors in a time of war, the mages of a land of myth and magic known as Aosi summon four young adults to their world to fight their battles for them.

🌈 THE RAINBOW LEAGUE : It's been known since superpowered individuals first showed up that 'all supers are gay', be they superheroes or supervillains. When Kyle Jordan Kramer discovers his abilities at the ripe age of 16 and has no doubts in his mind that he is, in fact, heterosexual and cisgender, the only superhero group that will have him is the 0.5 star rated 'Rainbow League', a group made up of every jaded superhero that's ever had enough of the life of super-ing. Determined to turn the poorly rated group around and make it something special, he embarks upon a journey of discovery for himself and drags those around him along for the ride.

🏴‍☠️ QUARTZ SHORES: The seas have risen and a new golden age of piracy is upon the world. Captain of the Cursed Cutlass, Evie Quartz is devastated to discover one day that the one person she trusted above all else, her first mate, Robert Deniau, has seized the loot from their last few hauls and made off into the mist. Hunting him down and retrieving the gold becomes the prime objective of the ship, but when the Cursed Cutlass makes berth at an equally cursed vacation island, things soon get out of hand.

💞 MY SOUL REMEMBERS: It's been 21 long years since the death of Elizabeth and Damien's sire, Sebastian, and finally they've found his soul, reincarnated into the body of a young woman desperately trying to keep her family afloat after the untimely demise of her parents. It was simple once, to imagine forcing the soul to roll back to Sebastian and reunite the group as they're meant to be, but faced with Jazz and her small group of kids all reliant on her and her alone to see their next meal, Elizabeth and Damien are forced to confront the question: How far will they go to see their Sebastian again?

🤖 WHITE SCAR: Rescuing Alec has been Danni's prime objective for as long as she can remember, but once he's back within her grasp and safe once more, what happens next? Luckily for Danni, her rescue of Alec is primed to begin a chain of events that she may not be able to stop…

🚀 BOUNTY: Melanie Day was rich, spoiled and trying to find her own place in the world, up until the day her parents died. Now depressed and struggling more than ever, she might just be grateful when a group of alien bounty hunters inadvertently kidnap her and take her out amongst the stars.

CURRENTLY POSTING/IN EDITS:

🌻 FARM HANDS: Trying to keep her dead parents' farm from going under, Ashley West takes on a rich and famous uptown boarder who is hiding from a stalker. [This has already begun posting and you can find the links to reading it in my sidebar! ♥]

What Else I Do:

I'm a freelance editor always looking for new clients. I try to be affordable while also providing a good service.

I also make book covers!

And I draw!

I'm branching out into painted book covers this year, I hope.

My Current Fandoms:

My fandoms come and go because of my ADHD, but my current loves are:

• Our Flag Means Death (blackbonnet, izzy hands, and generally the whole crew have my heart) • Doctor Who (9, 11 and 12, haven't watched 13 yet, I tend to fall behind) • The X Files (Mulder/Scully/Skinner canon triad polyamory YOU CAN FIGHT ME ON THIS BUT I'M RIGHT) • The Untamed/MDZS (wangxian, xiyao, chengxian) • Word of Honor (wenzhou, gx surviving the show) • Guardian/Zhen Hun (weilan! I'm reading the book too)

Misc Other Loves:

Crafting, painting, bullet journaling, tarot/stuff like that, sewing, knitting, collecting notebooks I'll never use, animals (I have pet indoor house ducks (UK has bird flu rn), pls ask to see them, I desperately love showing them off), candles, video games (loving Hades at the moment, and Green Hell), and falling into endless YouTube holes.

Follow Me If:

You like any of this, I suppose? If you're interested in my work, which I'd like to post a lot of honestly, but I always forget. I'm hoping to get my ADHD medicated in the next couple of months, so my writing should uptick!

Talk To Me If:

Same as the above! Please send me asks. Interact with me. I am but a queer little goblin person who longs to be spoken to like a zoo attraction.

Okay, that's about it. End captain's log or whatever.

[finiteuniverse13]

Bravo's Banned List

With the help of @bravo-four-seal-team, @@jayhalsteadfan-2417 and @rebelwrites, we made a list.

A list, posted on various walls throughout the Naval base, the plane and the cage room. About 1/3 of it is typed up, the rest is in hastily written pen. Made by Blackburn to try and corral Bravo. It's doing its best.

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Just so you're all aware, this is a 6.5-page document.

0: On the days of Adam and Swanny’s Death, leave the group be to remember them. I will not protect you.

1: Brock Is Not Allowed Coffee. No exceptions.

1.1: Do not leave Metal alone with Brock when Coffee is around.

2: Dick jokes are not required in briefings

3: If a single one of you bastards get between me and my coffee, we will be having issues

5: You made the dog sad; you die.

8: DO NOT GIVE THEM NERF GUNS

9: WHO THE HELL GAVE THEM WATER GUNS

9.1: STICKS DO NOT GIVE THEM STICKS THEY WILL PRETEND THEY ARE GUNS

10: Dirt bikes (don’t ask)

11: ARCHERY IS A BIG NO

12: FISHING. WHY AM I BANNING FISHING

13: Fire. That is all

14: KNIVES. WHY ARE YOU GIVING THEM KNIVES?

15: LADDERS (NEVER AGAIN)

16: PLASTIC CUTLERY ONLY UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES GIVE THEM METAL CUTLERY

16.1: Scratch that, they stab people with the metal cutlery. Let them suffer the consequences of their actions. They can eat with their hands.

17: MEMES ARE NOT ALLOWED IN THE MEETING ROOM

18: Horse riding. (METAL IT IS NOT A TACTICAL DISMOUNT ITS CALLED FALLING AND GETTING A CONCUSSION)

19: BOY BANDS (not allowed to be played on the plane)

19.1: GIRL BANDS (for the love of god, they will try and imitate them)

19.2 RAP MUSIC (they think they are the next Eminem and will make your ears bleed)

20: Do not tell Jason he is not allowed to do something. He finds a way to do it

20.1: Apparently Ray will do the exact same without question

21: Do not leave any members of the team with upper brass. (How did you make an Admiral with years of combat CRY!)

22: Clay is under Jason’s protection don’t go after him they will not find your body

22.1: If Clay calls Jason dad just leave it ok

22.2: Actually, check on Jason, he’s been standing staring for the past hour now

23: Hairdryers are banned (HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET YOUR BEARD CAUGHT SONNY)

24: Only Trent is allowed to call Metal by his legal first name. Ensign Williams learnt that one the hard way.

25: Paintball is banned from the base the last time it was extreme and got violent

26: The transformers movies because clay tried to do a stunt it ended badly

27: Thumbtacks apparently

28: Any Marvel movie (Jason you’re not Captain America)

28.1: DC movies are out as well

28.2: Disney Princess movies as well (don’t ask)

30: Do not leave phone unlocked around Sonny, he will not hesitate to change everything

36: DO NOT LET THEM GET SO DRUNK THEY START SINGING. IF I HEAR IN THE NAVY ONE MORE TIME, I WON'T BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS

37: IF THERE IS SILENCE DROP EVERYTHING AND START HUNTING AND PANICKING

38: Grenade launchers are not required for every mission Trent

39: WHO GAVE METAL A SWORD

42: Yes, Clay does know an Admiral by name. Don't ask questions you don't want answers to.

45: If Clay starts angrily ranting in a foreign language, don't worry. He's thinking out loud, not plotting to destroy the base

45.1: If Clay is calmly talking in a foreign language just back away slowly

48: SpongeBob is a Bad Idea because they are way too Annoying and make References (I’m looking at you, Clay)

52: Sharpies. When I find whoever gave me this sharpie tattoo sleeve, there will be hell to pay

56: DO NOT LET CLAY HAVE A GRIMM REAPER OUTFIT! THIS IS THE THIRD TIME HES NEARLY GIVEN SONNY AND TRENT A HEART ATTACK AT 3 AM

57: Red paint. I went to check something at 3 am and Clay was painting a satanic ritual on the floor

58: 3 am checks are a bad idea. (I have seen things, people!)

62: Explosives are to be locked away when not on mission Sonny and Clay will try and play catch with a live homewrecker

62.1: I expected Metal as a Master Chief to know better - he falls under the same rule as Clay and Sonny.

63: Don't wake Clay when he is sleeping back away slowly and leave the room

64: If I'm sleeping, back away and leave the room. Interrupt me if they've broken a rule, or if the base is actively being bombed. If not, I don't care.

65: Have multiple phone chargers or they will disappear and you’re not getting them back

68: If you call Clay anything other than a nickname expect to get punched or stabbed or sniped in the ass when least expected

68.1: Metal will stab you. Please remember he has a shovel and lye in his truck (WHY DO YOU HAVE IT)

68.2: Don't try to take the shovel and lye off of Metal

69: NEVER say the number 69 around them they are all immature children and expect tongue in cheek comments

70: NEVER interrupt Sonny when he is eating breakfast, he is grumpy in the morning

72: If they are all asleep make no sound - YOU WAKE THEM THEY ARE YOUR PROBLEM NOT MINE

73: For the love of god, stop giving Clay earth mineral nicknames. This is the third time this week I've watched Sonny empty limestone dust from his pack

75: Do not give them hammers! What is wrong with you people?

79: Do Not talk to Trent unless it’s after 2 coffees

83: For the love of god, don't ask Metal if he ever did nude modelling in art school. He will begin stripping, literally anywhere

91: Cerberus is a good boy and you hurt Brock you die

98: Super Glue (never again)

99: MY COFFEE IS OFF LIMITS WHOEVER PUT SALT IN IT WILL PAY

100: Do not give in to their peer pressure while they are drunk, I will not be doing it again

100.1: WHY AM I HEARING IN THE NAVY AGAIN?!

100.2: Sweet Caroline won't work twice

100.3: WHY ARE YOU SINGING BARBIE

100.4: SONNY, CLAY IS NOT A BARBIE GIRL

103: Don't tell Sonny he looks good in pink because you better believe he will keep wearing it (and probably some girl clothes too) to keep getting compliments

114: I ALREADY WROTE SUPER GLUE WHY DO I NEED TO WRITE IT AGAIN

115: HAIR DYE (Why did you dye Metal and Trent’s hair pink?!)

115.1: Face paint (Sonny, their faces did not need to match their hair)

116: Do NOT touch Clay, Charlie team learnt that, and someone ended up nearly losing a finger. (And it wasn’t because of the dog)

117: If they offer you a drink whilst smirking DO NOT take it

118: Sea shanties – if I hear one more SEA SHANTY while we are FLYING

119: If you hear someone shout incoming, run, it’s not an attack, it is Bravo, someone has done something and they’re coming to tell me

120: Vegemite is not allowed in the base after Jason let Clay eat it

121: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (JASON I DONT CARE IF YOU THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY TO ACT LIKE LEO IT WAS A BAD MOVE)

122: Hawaii 5-0, if I hear one more thing about how we should hang people of the rook of buildings I am going to shoot someone

124: Mortal Kombat (Clay was acting like Scorpion for a month)

130: Itching Powder (looking at you Brock)

131: DO NOT TOUCH JASONS TOMATOES - you will get a bamboo cane jammed into your thigh

134: Capes - YOU ARE NOT SUPERMAN CLAY STOP PRETENDING YOU CAN FLY BY JUMPING OFF THE HOOCHES

134.1: Edna Mode said NO CAPES - I EXPECT NO CAPES WORN BY ANYONE ON MY TEAM

138: Laser Tag is fun until someone gets hurt (Sonny and Clay you know what happened)

138.1: Laser Tag! (Ray needed to go to the hospital guys, come on)

143: Basketball. My nose will never be straight again.

144: Bravo and Ice skates don’t mix (the only person good on them is Jason but no other member of Bravo is allowed on the ice again)

144.1: Same goes for rollerblades

145: Ash Spencer is not allowed to be alone with Clay (Jason punched him last time he was on base)

145.1: Do not leave Jason, Metal or Sonny alone with Ash Spenser, it’s going to end up with a murder charge.

146: Clay is Jason’s adopted kid and needs to be supervised when Jason is away

151: SLIME - FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DONT GIVE THEM SLIME

152: GLITTER WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE

153: SCISSORS - Jase cut a chunk of Clay’s hair in the night now the base is a war zone

153.1: DONT FUCK WITH COVERBOY'S HAIR see point 68 for consequences

154: NAIR (why do you even have it?)

156: Call Of Duty (Clay must be supervised when playing it)

157: Do Not leave Clay unattended with Metal (They are both recovering from the ONE CHIP/DEATH CHIP Challenge)

158: Marshmallows (don’t ask)

163: The Hunger Games (are not a good training exercise)

164: The Olympus Has Fallen movies are not allowed to be mentioned in any given time)

173: If you mention the word ice-cream just run, run for your life

176: If I am sleeping STOP THROWING PAPER AT ME

177: Yelling FOR NARNIA is not an appropriate battle cry

178: The Fast And Furious movies (Clay you are not Brian so stop)

182: Nap time is important if their asleep do something else but if you wake them run like hell

190: Any movies about WAR are BANNED (I need a drink to talk about that one)

200 (From Bravo): Blackburn isn't allowed any more paper

200.1 (From Bravo): or pens

200.2: (Blackburn) Handcuffs. They handcuffed me to my desk and wrote that

200.3 (Blackburn): Bravo will not be allowed to tell their Commanding Officer what to do

202: Who keeps giving them superglue? This is the 8th time we are having to unglue Sonny and Clay’s hands

203: Do not let any of them take point on Briefing EVER

205: Are you serious? Paperclips! Do not give them PAPERCLIPS

206: Leaving anyone unattended with fire is a bad idea - I can still smell burning

210: This is Sparta (Jason don't kick people off the roof)

210.1: JASON I SAID NO KICKING PEOPLE YOU DONT LIKE OFF THE ROOF

213: Ash Spenser is not allowed on base. DEVGRU heard about what kind of dad he is, and now its kill-on-sight

213.1: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT ASH BEING ON BASE

214: Puppy dog eyes because Clay has been using them on anyone to get out of doing paperwork

215: RAY STOP DOING JASONS PAPERWORK

216: GO TO A HOSPITAL IF INJURED, TRENT HAS A LIFE OUTSIDE OF YOU LOT

217: THE GLEE CAST SOUNDTRACK IS NOT TO BE USED ON THE BASE

218: DO NOT PUT LION KING ON - they will cry like babies and there’s no consoling them over Mufasa

220: If I have to explain why BRAVO will not be joining teaching GREEN TEAM please see rule 1 and understand from that then ask the Green Team Instructor. (Brock terrified them by running the O Course in 30 minutes, all because someone gave him coffee)

220.1: And yes, that is the on the 50-minute-record O course. The time hasn’t been counted since it involved performance-enhancing substances

221: WHO THE HELL INTRODUCED THEM TO FROZEN

221.1 NO I DONT WANT TO BUILD A BLOODY SNOWMAN

221.2: WE WERE DEPLOYED TO SERBIA YOU BASTARDS

222: Gray’s anatomy (That is all)

227: VAPES - YOU DONT SMOKE AND ARE NOT PUFF THE MAGIC FUCKING DRAGON (clay I’m looking at you)

228: HATS ARE NOT ALLOWED IN BRIEFINGS (Sonny you know what you did)

229: MAGIC MIKE AND MAGIC MIKE XXL (still haunts my dreams)

233: I am begging you can you please BE NICE TO THE FLEET ADMIRAL (it's the 3rd time he's left in tears)

234: Chocolate - just run ok

235: Please stop re-enacting the screen from titanic when we are on a boat (I’m looking at you Brock)

235: PIZZA NIGHT IS A FREE FOR ALL AND IF YOU DONT WANT A BROKEN NOSE JUST BACK AWAY

236: Jokes. JOKES ARE BANNED - IF I NEED TO EXPLAIN WHY I WON'T BE HAPPY – NO ITS NOT FINE TO JOKE ABOUT THE FACT YOU HAVE BEEN STABBED CLAY

236.1: STAB WOUNDS ARE NOT ADDITIONAL POCKETS

237: Monopoly got violent last time and Jason got punched

237.1: In fact, any board games turn violent even snakes and ladders

237.2: Board games. Just please stop playing board games

240: Why am I revisiting the nerf guns people? IT WAS A FAMILY BARBECUE! (You lot need to learn to let your kids win!)

241: Brock is banned from Cooking - I do not want food poisoning again

244: WE DO NOT NEED A FLASH MOB EVERY TIME DONT STOP MOVING BY SCLUB 7 COMES ON

246: If they pass out around the fire pit for the love of god move them Clay and Sonny tend to like melting the sole of their boots on the flames even when passed out

251: Plastic cups only (this rule is to stop sonny from smashing them)

254: Why am I needing to revisit Sharpies? They aren’t allowed them, give them Crayola's or crayons

254.1: Scrap that YOU CAN’T EAT THE CRAYONS

256: Clay you are not Spiderman get off the walls

257: WHO GAVE COFFEE TO BROCK!!

257.1: THIS IS RULE ONE ON THE LIST WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

258: Don't mention Hawaii five 0 just don't

258.1: They will attempt the intro to it, it’s just painful

259: Don't mention Harry Potter because they will all cry over different characters deaths

287: Soup is now banned (Ray. I honestly thought you were the normal one of the team. I am disappointed)

321: If you see Clay and Sonny cuddling just walk away, pretend you didn’t see anything, one of them had a bad day and the other is the only one they will confine in

322: Don't mention the Philippines or India just don't

330: If Metal and Trent are talking, just leave them be. (No one wants to know if Metal is yelling about something stupid Trent did)

331: Popcorn is not allowed on base it ended up in everyone's gear

342: Non-Aerosol Deodorant. (Two of them tried to eat it before realising it wasn't edible)

344: Aerosol Deodorant. (Metal and Sonny used it with lighters. to create a flamethrower)

344.1: Side note LIGHTERS ARE BAD

345: Headphones. DO NOT ASK

346: Rubber bands are not slingshots

FINAL NOTE: FROM BRAVO - BLACKBURN LOVES US REALLY PLEASE IGNORE THE ABOVE LIST ITS ALL LIES

[swan-of-sunrise]

The Winter Soldier (Chapter Three)

Summary: Steve drops by the VA and listens in on one of Sam’s meetings and later that evening, (Y/N) reflects on her unusual day with the super-soldier.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Brief discussion of PTSD

A/N: Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Three (Previous Chapter)

After placing sugar packets and stirring sticks next to the coffee maker, (Y/N) took a seat beside the refreshment table and watched as Sam took his place at the front of the crowded room and began the meeting. One by one, each person would share their struggles with PTSD and how it had affected their lives as civilians; with each person’s story, (Y/N)’s heart clenched in sympathy. These vets have put their lives on the line to protect us, they don’t deserve to suffer, she thought with an inward sigh. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d woken Sam up from a nightmare or had seen him suddenly grow silent and have to distract him from his memories of war. But it was wonderful that people like Sam, people who face the same exact struggles, run programs to help each other out.

Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) turned to see Steve Rogers leaning against the doorframe of the room, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the meeting. Smiling and tugging her sweater tighter around her, (Y/N) turned her attention back to the woman speaking. “The thing is I think it’s getting worse. A cop pulled me over last week, he thought I was drunk. I swerved to miss a plastic bag. I thought it was an IED.”

Sam nodded. “Some stuff you leave there, other stuff you bring back. It’s our job to figure out how to carry it. Is it gonna be in a big suitcase or in a little man-purse? It’s up to you.” Everyone clapped and began standing, so (Y/N) jumped to her feet to man the table. She greeted each person with a smile as they grabbed cookies and filled their cups with coffee, delighted to see so many new faces among the usual crowd. After about twenty minutes of mingling and making small talk, the crowd started to leave so she decided to begin packing up the refreshments as Sam bid them goodbye out in the hallway.

“Don’t take those away those cookies just yet, darlin’, I wanna bring one home to my gran’daughter.”

(Y/N) looked up to see Gary, an older man with an incredibly bushy grey beard and a Vietnam War veteran’s baseball cap, and she smiled brightly before offering him the half-full container. “Take the whole thing if you’d like, Gary, and be sure to say hello to Katie for me!”

That made Gary grin toothily as he took the container. “You know, darlin’, you’re sweeter than this whole damn box of cookies. I’ll be seein’ you next week!” (Y/N) gave him a small wave and resumed cleaning as he limped away.

“You’re pretty popular around here.”

She turned away from the coffee pot and smiled when she saw Steve standing before her, his blue eyes glimmering and his hands shoved in his pockets. “If I am, it’s only ‘cause I give away free cookies; the vets that visit all have a massive sweet-tooth, you know.”

“Are you a vet, too?”

“Nah, I just work here.” She tossed several used paper coffee cups into the trash and chuckled. “A year ago, when I finally graduated with my master’s degree, I started writing my novel and since I was writing about soldiers and government agents I needed to interview some about their personal experiences. So, I decided to come down to the VA. I met with Sam, who had just started working here, and asked if I could interview some people for my writing. He agreed, and I spent the whole day just talking to the vets. All sorts of vets, too; men, women, old, young, you name it. And at the end of the day, after hearing about their struggles with PTSD and how hard their lives became once they returned to civilian life, I went back to Sam and asked if he needed any part-time employees. He said yes, and we’ve been best friends ever since.” Steve smiled, and the impressed look he was giving her caused her to blush so she hurriedly changed the subject. “So, did everything work out earlier? It’s just that it seemed a little serious, so I hope that everything’s okay.”

Steve’s smile fell a little but he nodded. “Yeah, everything’s fine…I was just visiting a friend who hasn’t been doing too well lately.”

(Y/N) impulsively placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, that sounds difficult. I hope they get better soon.” The ghost of a sympathetic smile pulled at the corner of her mouth and Steve’s eyes softened after a moment; realizing that her hand was still resting on his arm, she hastily withdrew it and began folding the tablecloth to keep her hands busy. “Um, Sam and I were planning on going out to dinner after we finish packing up, you’re welcome to join us if you want.”

She glanced up at him and saw a glint of something in his eyes, but it disappeared before she could get a closer look. “Thanks for the offer but I’ll have to pass; I’ve already got some plans later…”

“That’s okay, maybe next time!” (Y/N) smiled, but inside she couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

Just then, Sam walked into the room with a stack of pamphlets in his hands. “Pretty good turnout today, huh? Five new faces and Captain America!”

Steve chuckled. “Well, I’m glad that I stopped by.” He glanced at the clock on the wall before continuing, “I should probably get going, but it was good to see you two again.”

(Y/N) shook his hand. “I’m not gonna lie, it was a little weird seeing you in your own exhibit earlier but it was great hanging out with you!”

“You too, and good luck with For Queen and Country, I’ll keep my eye out for it in the bookshops.” His bright smile caused her heartbeat to once-again quicken as their hands dropped.

“It was good seeing you too, Cap, you made me look really awesome in front of Maria, so thanks for that.” Sam grinned and shook his outstretched hand.

“Glad I could help, Sam; see you two around!” Steve gave them a small wave before turning and walking out of the room.

Tearing her eyes away from the doorway, (Y/N) resumed her cleaning and glanced at Sam. “What do you feel like tonight, Thai or burgers?”

Sam grinned and began unplugging the coffee maker. “Burgers. So, did you have a nice day chilling with your new boyfriend, Booksmart?”

“Sam…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, (Y/N) sat down at her desk and put her music on shuffle before flicking through her notebook to the pages of notes she’d taken that day at the Smithsonian. She bit back a smile when she recognized the difference between the carefully printed notes she’d taken by herself versus the illegible scribbles taken from the elderly security guard’s long-winded explanations. He was kind of a fast talker, wasn’t he, she thought to herself; as a way of honoring the enthusiastic old man, she ultimately decided to name one of her minor characters after him.

“Stan.” She sounded out the name and gave a satisfied nod. “Yeah, that’s got a nice ring to it…”

(Y/N), now finally having all the information she needed to best describe Soviet Cold War missiles, wrote for nearly three hours straight, only taking breaks to skip songs or to glance down at her notes. She would’ve probably continued writing well into the next morning except that her eyesight was beginning to blur around the edges, an unfortunate symptom of exhaustion.

Well, you have had a pretty busy day today, (Y/N) silently reasoned as she saved her evening’s progress and booted down her laptop. Since Sam was already fast asleep in the room across the hall, she went about her bedtime routine as quietly as she could, washing her face and brushing her teeth before tiptoeing back into her room. She slipped on her mismatched pajama set and was about to crawl into bed when the record player on her bedside table caught her eye. Making her way over to what Sam affectionately called ‘The DJ Bookcase,’ she scanned the shelf devoted solely to her record collection until the right one stood out to her, and then she carefully placed the record on the turntable and lowered the needle. After a moment, the soft tones of Glenn Miller’s ‘Stardust’ filled her room and with a smile, she finally got into bed and turned to watch the record spinning on the turntable.

Thoughts of the super-soldier who’d inspired her choice in bedtime music began to fill her mind, making her smile softly to herself. (Y/N) had enjoyed seeing Steve again, even if it had been in a highly unconventional place like the Smithsonian, and she quietly marveled at how effortless it had been to talk to the larger-than-life man. He really was different from how the history books portrayed him: not only was he kind and polite, but he was also intelligent, sarcastic and extremely understanding. Also a little lost, I expect, (Y/N) thought, remembering his guarded expressions and withdrawn replies whenever she’d ask him a personal question; it couldn’t be easy adjusting to a brand-new reality, especially without a fixed support system to rely on.

“Hopefully he ends up getting the help he needs.” (Y/N) murmured to herself, her sleepy eyes continuing to watch the rotating record as more thoughts of Steve Rogers filled her mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all liked my little Stan Lee cameo in this chapter and the last :) I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V

Tagging: @mrs-obrien​ @lahoete​ @awkward117​ @cminr​ @momc95​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @khuang3​ @supersouthy​ @benakenalove​ @brooke0297​ @hufflepeople​ @becausewelie​​ @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum​

Chapter Four

“The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

[ayellowcurtain]

I always imagined Sander to be secretly super smart, but he’s sort of quiet about it? Could you write something about Robbe and Sander working on homework and Robbe getting frustrated and not knowing an answer and Sander offhandedly answering it and then it turns into a game when Robbe is trying to stump Sander but Sander has a bunch of random, back brain knowledge and is unstumpable (not a word, but I tried)?

Robbe should be mad that he can’t focus on his homework, but it’s hard to be mad when he has the most beautiful and sexy boyfriend that seems to really like giving him all his attention. And Sander is not completely wrong in his theses: there’s nothing Robbe would rather be doing than kissing Sander instead of studying.

He would choose Sander over anyone and anything.

“Hey, hey, limits, sir!” Robbe smiles, noticing the bump under the sheet coming closer and closer, feeling the wet kisses around his ribs and under his shirt and sheets. Sander’s hands are the smartest hands Robbe has ever seen. They’re constantly filled with intentions, Robbe feels like he can read Sander’s mind with the way he touches Robbe at times like right now.

He squeezes Robbe’s sides, not pulling, not pushing, just gripping like he needs to make sure Robbe is there.

He has to bite his lip not to whimper he won’t go anywhere because he knows the second he gives in, there’s no more room for studying today. And he really needs to do this.

“San…”

He stops instantly and grunts, his hair tickling Robbe’s belly. A second later, Robbe smiles, finally looking at his boyfriend, the sheets around his neck and he throws himself on the bed, away from Robbe.

“What are you studying? So we can finish this already.”

Robbe moves his legs, checking if they’re still there and he feels the cold air drying where Sander was kissing a second ago, his shirt still on his sternum.

“Physics.” It hurts to even say it but Sander lifts his eyebrows, watching as Robbe pushes his shirt back down.

“I like that one. It’s fucking nice.” Sander sits on the bed with that coy smile that knows Robbe gets a little, a tiny bit annoyed when he mimics Robbe like that.

“Give me that!” Sander steals the book from his hands and Robbe sighs, more than happy to give it to him, climbing to sit on his lap, putting his hand carefully underneath Sander’s shirt to not start a fire, just needing his warmth to comfort and help him relax. He wraps his legs around his waist too and buries his nose right where his neck and shoulder meet.

Sander starts reading what Robbe was supposed to be reading and he whines, regretting his decision to study because now all he wants is to be with Sander.

He’s not even hearing what Sander is reading until he starts correcting some facts, adding even more details to a book, or just answering the problems Robbe had to answer at the top of his head like he has all this knowledge about any and everything stored inside his big brain.

Robbe sits up and Sander has to put the book aside to let Robbe sit more on his thighs.

“What?” Sander is looking at him, a little confused but clearly also a little off guard for being caught being a smartass.

“How do you know all these things?”

“Which things?”

Robbe laughs, confused if Sander is playing him or if he was just bullshitting his way through the book. It didn’t feel like it, felt a lot like he had all the facts at the tip of his tongue.

“You’re correcting a book that’s supposed to be teaching you.”

“I used to like Physics, not just yours…” He wiggles his eyebrows and Robbe grabs the book back, opening at a random page between them, holding it up so Sander can’t see what he’ll do, asking Sander one of the questions.

Again, he answers right away and Robbe frowns because he thinks Sander is right, but he grabs his phone and makes a quick search on the internet.

Sander is right. He looks at Sander and he’s still there, relaxed, confident of his answer. Robbe opens the book two, three, four times at random pages again and asks something different every time and every time, Sander gets it right.

“Just Physics then?” Robbe has a feeling of all the things Sander said to him in the past few minutes, the lie is that he only likes Physics. Sander shrugs and Robbe lies back, his hips on Sander’s lap, his legs still wrapped around his waist and as he stretches all the way to get the rest of his books on his nightstand, most of his homework from the other classes already done, he feels those hands again, filled with intentions somehow, holding him just right around his waist, back to kissing his belly and it’s hard to gather his strength to focus on grabbing the books but he manages it, sitting back up, hearing Sander’s complaints because of it.

“What do I get if I answer all of your questions right?”

Robbe opens and closes his mouth, putting the books between them, “This is not a competition.”

“Everything can be a competition. Come on, I want a prize!” Sander hugs him tighter around his waist, the distance between them getting smaller and smaller. The books are basically the one barrier from both of them just making out for the rest of the day, forgetting all about school and homework.

“Okay…” Robbe bites his lip, so many ideas popping inside his brain instantly but he doesn’t want to go too far, putting all his fantasies out into the real world, inside Sander’s big brain and photographic memory, “We can do anything you want if you get them right.”

“You’re giving me a lot of freedom with that, cutie.”

Robbe leans down, putting his forehead against Sander’s, whispering shyly, “I trust you completely.”

Sander grunts, lifting his hips just a little bit to make Robbe understand how painful he’s making this. He understands, his pants are getting tighter too.

Sander slaps his ass gently, “Okay! Ten questions and then we’re done.”

“Ten questions plus you reviewing all my homework.” Robbe puts his hands on Sander’s chest, standing his ground because he really doesn’t want to end up with bad grades, overthinking them for weeks, where he went wrong.

“But you’re the one that needs to be learning all these things!”

“And I did! I just want to make sure I get good grades so we can go on holiday and not worry…”

Sander sighs loudly and rolls his eyes while Robbe opens his first book, sitting up straighter on his boyfriend’s lap.

The silence grows with anticipation and a little bit of arousal and Robbe can’t believe it, can’t move so Sander puts his hand on the cover and closes the last book. Ten questions answered so fast. Robbe was watching him closely and Sander didn’t even flinch before answering.

Sander moves his arms back, leaning against them, feeling so good about himself, with that smirk on his face.

“Since I won...I say we’ll let the reviewing for later, after dinner.”

“Sander…” Robbe tilts his head to the side, knowing very well they can so extremely easily forget all about homework, school, time, and the world around them.

“Trust me, cutie, I won’t forget. You need good grades and we had a deal…” He slaps Robbe’s ass carefully again, “Off your clothes, Robin, come on.”

Robbe doesn’t move on his lap, he needs a little more certification that his homework won’t be forgotten in the pile of disposable clothes that’ll be soon forming on his bedroom floor.

Sander snorts, sitting up as long as he can to reach for Robbe’s lips above him, whispering against his mouth.

“You’ll pass out before I can say a word, and I’ll have a lot of free time to take a shower and review all your homework.” Robbe smiles softly, wrapping his arms around Sander’s neck, feeling his skilled hands back inside his shirt, quietly going up on his back, his short nails purposefully scratching his warm skin, making Robbe shiver, “Maybe if you’re a good boy, I’ll even leave some future homework already done for you.”

Robbe nods his head unconsciously, finally kissing Sander slowly.