#like. I use 'you're making money off of me' as part of my defense

[mrnnki]

The YouTube copyright system is so fucked, man

[writersdrug]

Bartender Simon, who cuts of a drunk costumer. The costumer is angry and begins insulting Simon, particularly his looks. It doesn't bother Simon but how does Waitress!Reader react?

Alas... the much-awaited ktih

Warnings: making out, groping, dry-humping

It was only seven pm, and Cole was already drunk. Simon knew this would happen - it usually does, at least every Friday night. He comes in, drinks for a solid two hours, until Simon finally has to cut him off and steer him in the direction of his apartment. The man at least lets him add twenty percent auto gratuity if he has to be sent home like that - and, more often than not, it's every week.

Today, however, is a different story.

Cole had come in at four, right when the pub opened. He gave you his usual, tight-lipped smile, making his way to the seat he took every Friday evening. Simon was already pouring his beer by the time he removed his coat. The conversation continues (mostly one-sided on Cole's part), as does the night, and he never ceases to tip the beers back - rattling on about how much money he makes, only getting louder when a group of women walks by.

Around nine at night is when he began to get drunk enough that the numbers on his tab begin to blend together. "A'aight- 'nother one for good fortune." He smacks his empty glass against the bartop, making you jump slightly as you did your tips at the end of the.

"Not tonight." Simon says, hovering over the POS and punching buttons on the screen. "You got 'nuff for good fortune. You can pick it back up next week."

"Bahhh, c'mon - I'll pay double." Cole slurs, leaning over the bar.

"What's your wife's name?" Simon asks, turning back around and leaning against the liquor shelf.

"... Sharon."

"Ya not even married, Cole."

He laughs, eyes glassy as he smacks the bartop and wheezes. "Tha's good! Real good- ya got me. Can't keep a woman 'f I tried."

Simon doesn't comment. He slides Cole's receipt across the bar, before promptly turning back and grabbing a glass.

Cole sighs, crumpling the receipt in his fist. "Y' don't want business?"

"Don't want you gettin' lost findin' your Uber." Simon replies, polishing a glass.

"Y'know..." Cole leans back in his seat, very adamantly refusing to leave, "I know you're strugglin' t' bring in the money with... whatever ya got goin' on behind the mask."

Maybe when he was a lieutenant, constantly dealing with jabs and stabs towards his ego, it would have gotten to him. But Simon just huffs in annoyance. "This what you resort to when you can't get a beer?"

"Defensive much?" Cole bites back. "You could use the money to fix y'r fuckin' face. Should stop bein' such a cunt n' worryin' 'bout me like you're my mum."

"Hardly - your mom probably wishes she'd swallowed you instead."

Simon nearly drops the glass - it takes him a moment to realize that you had spoken, and another one to process just what exactly you had said. He turns around to find you, staring Cole down with the most disgusted, angry expression he's ever seen you display. He's speechless - mostly because he didn't know you had an arsenal of insults, ready to fire off like this.

Cole chuckles drunkenly, turning in his seat to face you from down the bar. "Don' like it when I insult y'r bank account, do ya?"

"Aren't you supposed to be dumpster diving or something?" You snap, getting up out of your seat - Simon's never seen such a look in your eyes, and he quickly steps out from behind the bar to jog over to you. He places a hand on your shoulder, but you don't back down.

"You realize who you're talkin' to, little girl?"

"Draco Malfoy if he'd gone into British Parliament."

"Oi-" Simon snaps, fingers digging into your shoulder - surprisingly, you swat his hand away. You're fuming at this overgrown cabbage, running his mouth like he actually means something to anyone in this pub.

Cole purses his lips; your insults are getting to him. "You gonna do somethin' with this chick?" he asks Simon - who nearly blows a cap, but you beat him to it.

"Y'know, maybe you should spend your money on fixing those fucking teeth - because I see they're still social distancing - instead of wasting our time here, you grey, fucking sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake-"

"Hey- stairwell. Go." Simon gives you a gentle shove towards the stairs, and you throw your hands up and storm off. He stares after you, wide-eyed and tense, watching as you disappear behind the stairwell door. He's quickly growing hard, concerningly, after witnessing you fire off at Cole with a loaded gun full of wit and anger - it was quite possibly the most attractive thing he's seen you do.

Cole huffs, breaking Simon's focus. "Women - sticking their noses where they don't belong." he looks at him, expecting the bartender to agree.

Simon's holding back the urge to drive his fist into the man's skull. He grabs Cole's jacket from the back of the chair and shoves it into his chest so hard he nearly falls from his seat. "If you're not gone in the next ten minutes, Soap 'n I will make you leave, you understand?" he doesn't even wait for a reply, turning on his heel and stalking towards the stairwell, boots thudding heavily against the ground.

He's got bigger priorities at the moment.

You're standing in the stairwell, chewing the edge of your sweater as you stare at the dustpan and broom. Simon can surely fight his own battles - he didn't seem irritated in the slightest by Cole, why did you step in? Simon isn't yours (unfortunately), you don't need to defend him. You don't have the right to defend him other than the fact that he's your coworker. Manager. And you were definitely doing it based on other, unspoken reasons. It was obvious. Is it obvious to him? Forget possibly losing your job, is he going to be mad that you lost your shit like that? That you put your foot where it doesn't belong? That-

The door to the stairwell swings open, and you stop your pacing. His eyes are lidded. Angry? You can't tell. He looks rather intimidating, tall and tense as the door swings shut behind him, mask bunched into his fist as he shoves it into his back pocket.

You think he's about to let you have it, to chew you out for your outburst. "Simon, I'm-"

His rough hands are around your face before you know it - right as you open your mouth to yelp in shock, he leans down and kisses you.

Your eyes force themselves shut. You don't have a chance to pull away, not with his hand cradling the back of your head. He won't let you; you don't want to. His breath fans across your face, fingers calloused yet gentle as they relax around you, and you sigh into his touch, tilting your head to let him get closer. Your arms rest against his shoulders, squeezing the muscle as you feel months of worry and anticipation melt away-

And then, as quickly as it had begun, Simon has the audacity to stop and pull his head back.

His eyes find yours, still cupping your face in his hands. He looks breathless - good. At least you know he's just as riled up as you are, now. There's a hint of pink on his cheeks, and a need for reassurance in his hazy stare. He needs to know he was right, despite the months of flirting and the little chase you've been leading him in; now that he's finally caught up, caught you in his grasp, he needs you to tell him you want this. Though he doesn't know how he'll survive if you don't.

"You ok?" He pants, brow creased with uncertainty.

You let out a noise of frustration - threading your fingers behind his neck, you pull him back down, sealing your lips against his once again.

He exhales through his nose in relief. His hands find your waist as you part your lips, letting him slip inside and explore your mouth. Your fingernails dig crescents into his skin - he lets out a rather needy-sounding groan, backing you up until you hit the wall. You whine; your tongue flicking across his lower lip sends a shiver down his spine, heat building and twisting and tangling in his gut until you break away for a moment, nipping your teeth into his lip.

His mind short-circuits; he grunts, all the blood in his head rushing south to his cock, where it's getting uncomfortably warm and tight. He grabs you underneath your ass and hoists you up, and you squeak, instinctively locking your legs around his hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he kisses you feverishly, desire brewing in your stomach as he presses you into the wall, tongues and teeth clashing, the both of you unable to satisfy the ever-growing blaze. It threatens to burn up the stairwell until there's nothing left but a sweaty, naked mess.

Simon breaks away to latch onto your neck, taking the thin flesh and rolling it between his teeth You bite back a whimper, carding your fingers through his hair; he bucks his hips in response, albeit involuntarily. You can sense the knot in your pelvis tightening, underwear growing slick as you feel the size of his erection with each thrust. Even through his clothes, you can tell it would be a challenge, but you've never been one to back down.

Fingers slide under his shirt, feeling the solid wall of muscle and fat beneath - his retracts a hand and drags it up your stomach, kneading and groping your tit through your shirt, silencing your moan with another searing, wet kiss. He's grinding into you now, hips rolling, cock twitching through his pants as you lock your ankles behind his back, and fuck he's ready to strip you bare right here and fuck you against the wall, ready to get back at you for teasing him for so long, ready to listen to your cries as you take each and every rung of his piercing-

He catches himself, lips moving away from yours to kiss along your chin, all the way up to your jaw. He sighs as he stills his hips, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he leans his weight into you. You feel him relaxing, wondering if he's worried about you again, but you so desperately want this to continue where it's heading.

"I'm alright, I'm alright-"

"I know..." he mumbles, his hand sliding back to your thigh and squeezing the flesh there, fingers barely slipping past the hem of your shorts. He wants to go further, to feel the hem of your panties snap against his fingers, but he forces back the urge.

"What's wrong?" you pant, craning your neck to the side to look at him.

"'M not..." he huffs, pulling his head back and gazing down at you. "Not fuckin' you in the stairwell, dove. 'S filthy back here."

Your face heats up even more - the fact that he had to hold himself back from disheveling you right now is an unspoken compliment. "Can we take it upstairs?"

He chuckles and gently sets you down, much to your disdain. "No. Got a bar to run." He says, preening at the way you pout at that. "And I'm takin' you out, first."

"Out?"

"Yea, for lunch."

"Wh- where?"

"You decide. Monday."

Monday - that's deep-clean day. "Don't we have to be here at noon?"

He chuckles. Always worrying about losing your job. "I'll make an exception. Won't fire ya for goin' on a date with me."

Date. God, you could scream. "But what if Price-"

"If that man ever threatens your position at this pub," Simon leans down, gently grabbing your chin between his fingers, "you come to me, n' I'll knock some sense into 'im. Sound good?"

You're too starstruck to register half of what he's said. Simon Riley's just kissed you. AND admitted to wanting to fuck you. Now, he's taking you on a date on Monday. Did you have any plans? Doesn't matter. If you do, they're cancelled.

"Uh huh..." you say, absentmindedly leaning into his touch.

Looking down at you: you, you... god, can he call you his? Is that too soon? The stars in your eyes while you're staring at him, the struggle within himself to avoid both adoration and getting hard(er)... He takes another deep breath, thumb running down the blossoming hickey on your neck.

"Right." he taps your cheek softly, then goes to tuck his shirt back in from where you'd torn it from the waistband. "Go ahead n' take a minute. Come to the bar 'fore you leave."

He grabs the handle to leave, hesitating only for a moment. Both of you seem to have the same idea, sharing a hive mind with each other. You quickly move forward and he leans down as you both kiss again, slower, trying to savor this one. Honey drips from your brain into your chest, every cell in your body screaming in relief, satisfaction, and pure joy...

He breaks away again, laying a kiss to the crown of your head. You sit down on the stairs as he walks back onto the pub floor. He's still hard, and it's plain as day - but he could care less right now. He's got you just as much as you've had him. There's a lightness in his shoulders, a voice in his head that you've finally plucked free and thrown into the abyss, only to be replaced by your own being.

You're still sitting on the stairs, massaging your tits through your shirt as you try to smooth your nipples out. Your mind is racing a million miles a minute. What should I wear? Will Price be upset? Should we try to hide this? Will anyone care? Should I wear perfume or just body spray? Is work going to be weird now? He's not going to treat me differently, is he?

You sigh, biting your lip and trudging up the stairs. Your fingers run over the hickey on your neck. I need to find a whisk.

[jwonsite]

“happy birthday, pretty boy” - sim jaeyun

part 2 of e(nnn)- (a nnn series)

pairing: switch!jake x switch!fem!reader

warnings: oral (f&m receiving), making out, 69 position, lingerie mentioned, idk what else to put help me

synopsis: while your boyfriend is trying his hardest to win a bet made by his best friends to not have sex for a month, you couldn’t help but give him a little show on his birthday

masterlist!

"jake i'm telling you right now there's no way you're winning that ps5"

"you really have that little faith in me?!"

"have you met yourself? last week you begged me to let you eat me out because you were 'pussy deprived' while i was on my period. it had been 3 days."

your boyfriend sighed in defeat, knowing you were right. but was it really his fault? you were just so perfect, he could never get enough of you!

"well i'm going to prove you wrong, just watch. on december 1st when i'm collecting my ps5 from sunghoon i'll remind you of this very moment," jake said, crossing his arms as he dramatically turned away from you

you laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. you knew your boyfriend, and you knew there was absolutely no way that he was lasting this entire month, especially with his birthday being a few weeks away. he can tell himself whatever he wants, but you both know in the end, he's not getting that ps5.

______________________________________________________________

it had been two weeks and he was honestly doing way better than anybody expected. everyday the boys waited for a text message saying he lost, some even placing further bets on how many hours days he could last before he lost

"can you believe them?! i was on the phone with hoon earlier and i heard heeseung give jungwon money after saying i lasted longer than he thought! i can't believe theyre making bets on me, like, am i really that horny?" he complained to you as you were eating dinner together

"in their defense, you are a pretty big man whore. i mean, have you seen the videos of yourself from the concerts? licking your lips, showing your abs, grinding the air, they definitely aren't wrong for thinking that. plus i am 100 percent sure they have heard us have sex in the dorms multiple times", you said back to him. everybody knows that jake practically lives off of sex. not in a weird way, but you just energize him so much. with so much stress of being an idol, getting to come home and fuck his frustrations out, or eat you out for hours until you're overstimulated, it's an instant destresser

"well, yeah but, they could at least have a little more confidence in me", he said with a pout, continuing to eat the food you had made for him earlier

"okay you big baby", you said with a laugh, getting up to take your empty plate to the sink to wash

your boyfriend followed soon behind with his empty plate, slightly pushing you out of the way and taking the sponge out of your hand to wash the dishes for you. you smiled at him fondly as you moved to sit on the counter directly next to the sink. you sat and admired your boyfriend, looking so domestic as he washed the dishes in your apartment. you looked forward to the day that he could finally move in with you full-time, after the pressures of being an idol aren't so heavy

"you're staring, pretty girl", he said with a smirk, not moving his attention from the plates in front of him

"yeah cause you're just so handsome", you said not being able to hold back your smile

he giggled a bit at your statement before refocusing on the task in front of him

"so!" you said, clapping your hands together, "what are we doing tomorrow, birthday boy?"

"i didn't really have any plans in mind, probably hang with the boys for a bit, get dinner or whatever then come back and chill here with you. nothing too crazy", he said nonchalantly, turning of the sink and drying his hands as he finished washing everything

"are you serious? its your 21st birthday jakey, you have to do something!" you said, wrapping your arms around his neck as he stood between your legs. because you were sitting on the counter you were eye level with him. he put his hands on your thighs as he looked at you with a smile

"yeah yeah i know but... i dont know. not really in the going out mood, id rather just chill and spend it here with you", he said moving his face close to yours, noses rubbing together. you hummed as you closed the gap between you both, lips molding together as your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck. he pulled away, rubbing your noses together once more before standing back to look at you

"you sure you don't wanna go out somewhere tomorrow? nothing at all you can think of?" you asked once more, intertwining your hands together

"nothing, i promise. we can go out to eat with the boys and then come back and have a movie night or something. just wanna be with you", he said with a smile. you flushed at his words. even after dating for so long he never failed to make you flustered

"okay, now come on pretty boy let's go to bed, i'm tired", you said, wrapping your arms and legs around your boyfriend to signal him to carry you to your bedroom. he laughed and shook his head before putting his hands under your thighs and picking you up, walking to your room

______________________________________________________________

the next day was filled with multiple surprises for your boyfriend, waking him up to breakfast in bed, giving him a beautiful white gold bracelet you had found for him a few weeks ago, the boys showing up early to your house to give him the gifts they had bought him before all going out to dinner together that night.

you all had a great time, talking and laughing loudly for hours, probably annoying the rest of the patrons in the restaurant. your boyfriend thanked his friends, as well as you for making his birthday such a fun day, but what he didn't know was that you had one more surprise for him.

you had been planning this for a while, being very glad he opted to staying in for his birthday as it helped your plan go smoother. you knew he had that bet with his friends but, we all knew he was gonna lose at one point or another, so why not have it be on his birthday? he wasn't even a big gamer anyways, it wasn't like he would be super disappointed if he didnt get the gaming console.

you were gonna make some excuse to get him back to your place, changing into your brand new black lingerie set you got specifically for this occasion. you knew he loved when you wore black, since it was one of his favorite colors. you hoped the lingerie set would get him to break, giving up on his bet with his friends

after dinner was paid for (thank you jay🙏🏼), your boyfriend bid goodbye to his friends, walking back to your car with you

you drove home in a comfortable silence, his hand on your thigh as you looked out the window, music lowly playing in the background. you were getting excited for your plans, feeling the heat in your core grow as you slightly shifted in your seat

"you okay babe?" jake asked, looking at you slightly

"yeah, i'm fine" you said with a smile, grabbing his hand off your thigh to intertwine it with yours, as the close proximity to your core was getting you more worked up than you already were

you thought you were being slick, but your boyfriend knew about this whole ordeal. he had accidentally seen the lingerie in your dresser, and when he didnt recognize it he figured you had bought it for this reason. and after seeing the way you tried to hide yourself getting worked up during dinner, snd in the car next to him just now, confirmed his suspicions. he smiled to himself before focusing back on the road, feeling your stare on the side of his face. usually he would tease you, but right now he wanted nothing more than to get you home and fuck you til you can't walk

the ride back to your apartment felt longer than usual, your arousal continuing to pool in your panties the more you thought about the night to come. you finally arrived, and jake got out the car quickly to open the door for you, helping you out of the car. he grabbed your hand as he led you inside. he unlocked the door to your apartment, letting you go in first, following behind closely

before you knew it, you were pushed up against your front door, your boyfriends lips clashing with yours passionately as his hands roamed over your body

your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to be the one to initiate the intimacy. you soon melted into your boyfriends arms, wrapping your arms around his neck to tangle in his hair as your tongues clashed in each others mouths. he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, not breaking the kiss as he walked to your bedroom, placing you down on the bed, leaning back to take of his shirt, throwing it across the room before coming back down to kiss you again

"fuck, jakey, what about your bet?" you moaned out as he moved his lips down your neck and chest

"first of all, fuck the bet. second of all, you think i didn't know all about your little plan for tonight? that pretty little lingerie set that you bought just for me. lucky for you, i'm gonna let you save that for another day, right now i just wanna feel you around me" he said as he continued to leave open mouthed kisses down your neck and chest, putting his hands up your shirt to massage your breasts over your bra

you moaned as you moved your hands to take off your shirt, sitting up for a second to lift it over your head, discarding it somewhere in your room

jake moved further down your chest now that he had more access, taking one of his hands to unbuckle your bra skillfully, like he had done it a billion times

after your bra was off, he moved his mouth down to suck your nipples, licking and kissing then as he used one of his hands to roll your other nipple between his fingertips. your hands were in his hair, pulling and tugging on it slightly, making him moan into your breasts, sending vibrations all through your body

"baby please, i need you so bad" you moaned out, becoming impatient

"so needy, my baby. can't believe i was gonna make you wait a whole month without my dick" he said, kissing down your body as he made his way to where you were craving him most

"wait", you said, putting your hand on his head to stop his motions. you put your hand under his chin to pull him back up to your face, before pushing him over so he was under you

he gasped at the sudden movement before smirking at you, immediately putting his hands behind his head

"wanna take care of my pretty boy" you said as you moved down to his dick, kissing and lick his defined abs on the way down. you unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down off his legs before cupping his clothed dick in your hands

he moaned out at the feeling as you palmed him through the thin fabric of his underwear, cursing lowly under his breath

"please don't tease princess, it's been way too long i need to feel your mouth around me already" he said with a whine

"whatever my birthday boy wants" you said, slipping your fingers into the sides of his boxers, sliding them down his thighs. his dick sprung up from the fabric, stand so tall and prettily. you swear his dick was the prettiest one in the world, the veins going up the side were just so perfect, he wasn't bigger than average, but he was so thick, and his tip was so red and pretty, already leaking precum

he groaned as he was finally released from the constraints of any fabrics, moving his hands down to tangle in your hair

you took his dick in your hands as you slowly licked all the way from the base to the tip, your boyfriend moaning out loudly as you did so. you began to suck his tip gently, licking his slit and tasting his precum on your tongue

"fuck, baby, you said anything i want right? i want you to sit on my face please. you take my dick so well in your mouth but i want to taste you too. please baby", he whined out as you continued to suck only the tip. you smiled up at him before standing up to remove your pants and underwear

"of course pretty boy, it's your night" you said as you climbed onto the bed seductively, moving your legs over your boyfriends head so you were hovering above his mouth. you could feel his warm breath on your pussy, and his nose rubbing against your clit. you moaned slightly as you leaned forward to take his dick into your moth again

you began sucking on it harshly, before feeling jake pull your hips down harshly, suffocating himself with your pussy. he was licking and sucking on your clit so well, you could barely concentrate on what you were doing. you continued to bob your head up and down over his cock as he keep eating you out, your moans being muffled by his dick. the vibrations of your moans over his dick made him approach his orgasm faster than usual, already feeling his stomach tighten and his dick twitching in your mouth. he didn't want to cum before you, so he started to speed up his actions, hands tightly gripping your thighs, probably leaving a mark tomorrow

he heard your moans get higher in pitch, and your hips began to grind onto his face slightly, signaling you were close. you continued moving up and down on his dick, hands massaging his balls as you felt his dick twitch in your mouth. your orgasm hit you hard, hips bucking onto your boyfriends face as you tried to continue sucking on his dick, becoming too distracted on by your own orgasm hitting you. jake didn't stop his ministrations, riding you through your orgasm, making sure to lick up every last drop of your juices. your hand continued to move up and down his dick, and you moved your head back down to his dick so he could come too. not long after he was cumming in your mouth, moaning into your pussy sending vibrations and overstimulating you

you gathered all his cum into your mouth, sitting up and turning around so he could see your face as you swallowed it. that was one of his favorite parts when you sucked his dick, getting to see you swallow his load

his hands moved to your waist as you sat over his abs, feeling your juices spread over his stomach. you leaned down to kiss him, and he practically got hard again tasting himself on your lips. you smiled into the kiss as you pulled away, biting his lip before you pulled away and let go

"happy birthday, pretty boy"

you rolled off his stomach to lay next to him, turning your head to look at him with a smile. he looked back at you, returning the smile fondly. he rolled to the side to cuddle into you, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him before he could

"you thought we were done baby? oh no, were just getting started"

a/n: GUYS FINALLY I KNOW ITS OUT AHHHHH. i wrote this all in one sitting cuz i was determined to finally get it out for you guys after weeks of not being able to😭 i hope you guys enjoy, and sorry it’s a little short🥲🥲🥲

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[heian-era-housewife]

Bad Tenants

Kinktober • Week 1

Synopsis | Landlord? What landlord? Living "rent free" takes on a whole new meaning when the guys return home pent-up and red-handed.

Content | MDNI 18+, f!reader x Toji x Shiu, smut, sex, PiV, threesome, blood, assassins being assassins, swearing, use of bitch, use of daddy, fluff??? yeah. Fluff.

Word Count | 680

A blood-stained Shiu stumbles through the door of your shared apartment, crimson smatters staining his suit, his hair more tousled than usual.

"Baby, what-"

"No." He says, quickly bending to pull off his shoes, not bothering to untie the laces.

"But you have-"

"I know." He says firmly, peeling off his suit jacket as he makes his way to where you're seated on the couch.

"Shiu, what happ-"

Click click click

He stands in front of you, hands shaking as he tries to light a fresh cigarette. You reach up to steady his hands in yours, helping him catch the small flame. 

"Hahhhhhhhh," he breathes deeply, eyes glazing over in the smoky haze. The day's hot tension pouring off of him with each exhale.

"Shiu I-"

"Uhp-uhp-uhp!" He says, holding up a finger to shush you. "Clothes off for me, sweetheart."

"Seriously?" You gripe. "You're not even going to tell me what hap-"

"Shh...Daddy needs this..." he grunts, dropping his slacks and boxers in one swift motion. Skyward cock colliding noisily with his sweat-streaked happy trail.

You've never seen him like this, so you do as you're told, spreading wide as he plunges his throbbing length deep into your core with a desperate moan. He fucks you thoroughly, sucking away on his cigarette, groaning with every thrust. 

Suddenly, the door swings open as the third member of your trio enters the flat. 

"Not wasting any time, I see." Toji jeers. He, too, covered in blood.

"Does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on?!" 

"You should have seen it, babe. Fuckin' hilarious." He laughs, stripping off his bloadsoaked clothes.

"What's hilarious??"

"We come home, right?" Toji continues. "Our asshole landlord's just leaning at the bottom of the stairs, all cocky-like." He mimics the landlord's pose. "Then the douchebag stops us and says 'You two don't pay up soon, I'll be after more than just your money. I'll be coming for that little bitch of yours!'"

"What a creep!" You squeal.

"I know, right?" Toji nods. "But here comes the best part!" He crosses the room gesturing to Shiu, still humping the life out of you. "This guy. This guy says 'The only little bitch I see here, is you' right before he pops him!" Toji throws his head back laughing, giving Shiu's shoulder an appreciative clap.

"Pops him??" You ask.

"Yeah! You know..." Toji forms a gun using his thumb and index finger, pulling the imaginary trigger as he holds it to his temple.

"SHIU! YOU KILLED OUR LANDLORD?!"

Shiu looks away, unable to meet your accusing gaze as he snaps his hips up into you.

"Then why were you all covered in blood??" You wave a disgruntled arm at Toji.

"Oh. I had to dump the body." He says simply. "'Mr. Quickdraw' here couldn't even be bothered to finish his dirty work."

"Oh my god..." you sigh, one arm coming up to cover your eyes. "You two are going to be the death of me."

"Yeah, yeah." Toji says, shuffling underneath you as he lays back on the couch, his large hands encouraging you to lay your full weight on top of him. "...Biiig stretch...." Toji bullies his way into your overstuffed cunt from down below while Shiu continues railing you from above.

The two men groan their exultation as they slide past one another. The day's stress melting in your warmth. 

"That's right." Toji says after several minutes. "No one messes with our little bi-"

"DON'T YOU DARE!" You and Shiu cry out in unison before he can finish. 

"What??" His hands fly up defensively. "I was talking about Shiu!"

Shiu's cigarette falters as he tries not to laugh, garnering a snort from you. Soon, all three of you are laughing as Toji wraps his arms around you both and you lay, sandwiched, between your two favorite idiots.

***

Later that evening, a sign appears:

Under New Management

All Tenants, 

Effective immediately, please make checks payable to the order of T. Fushiguro on or before the first of each month.

Thanks,

S. Kong

Property Manager

-----------------------------------

Tags: @queentoji

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Quand Tu Voudras

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: ~7.2k

TW: kissing, angst, blood, burns, cuts, bruises, arguments, crying, depression, mention of EDs, panicking, explosions, drinking, self-image issues, mentions of addiction, mentions of drug use, mentions of Maeve

A/N: Third and Final Part babyyyyyy let's GO. I'm actually excited to watch each part get its own vibes, but also be a cohesive story. I really hope you all enjoy it! Thank y'all for doing me on this crazy journey!

Dedicated to New Lovers , You're Keeping Me Down

“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.” ~Orson Welles

It was the most beautiful you had ever looked. 

Shopping for a wedding dress was one of the most terrifying experiences you had ever lived through, and you had been shot multiple times. 

But being surrounded by your closest friends and family members as you tried on dress after dress kept you going. 

You finally found the perfect one in a small shop outside of the DC area, hidden in a little suburb where life wasn’t as rushed as it felt. 

You tried on only three dresses at this little boutique. The second was almost perfect, and you were about to “say yes to the dress,” but someone was reorganizing the front rack, and that’s when the one you were currently wearing appeared, sent by the higher powers. 

It fits you perfectly. 

You started to cry when you saw yourself in the mirror, which caused Garcia to start crying, which caused Emily and JJ to cry, and the rest of your family quickly followed. 

So it was only natural that staring at yourself in the mirror right now made you tear up again. 

“Oh, Babe, no.” Emily was quick to fan your eyes as you tilted your head back, letting the tears melt back into your eyes. 

“I can’t help it.” You grumbled, eyes wide as you tried calming your breathing slowly. “It’s just so pretty…” 

“I know, I know. My money is on Derek crying first.” 

“Oh, please. We all know Rossi won’t stop crying the second he takes his seat.”

You had decided that the only people you wanted at the ceremony were close friends and family. That meant the team, their little ones, and each of your parents. Small. Peaceful. Intimate.

Derek was over the moon when you asked him to officiate your wedding, wanting him to be there for you in every way since that’s always been his role. 

You had taken him out for coffee under the very real guise that wedding planning made you want to rip your head off and chuck it out to sea. 

“Okay, baby girl, talk to me.” 

The ice was melting in the cup from the warmth of your hands, making your hands wet with the condensation, hiding the sweat from your nerves. 

“Do you know how much flowers cost?” 

Derek chuckled and shook his head. “No. I don’t think I do.”

“The government doesn’t pay me enough for the amount of flowers I want at my reception.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have picked the Peabody Library as your reception location.”

“In my defense.” You furrowed your brows. “You were with us when we toured it. It’s perfect, Derek. Don’t tell me it’s not.” 

“No, it’s perfect; I just don’t understand why you need that many flowers.”

“Sometimes, I feel like you don’t even know me, Derek Morgan.” 

“He’s going to cry first.” Emily smiled, lightly dabbing under your eyes with some of your powder foundation to show that you weren’t almost crying. 

“I will buy you a whole bottle of Möet that Rossi will cry first.” 

As JJ entered the room, you and Emily shook hands, giggling like school girls. “Almost ready?” 

You nodded, glancing over at yourself in the mirror. 

Honestly, you had never thought this day would come. Your wedding day. After everything you had been through, all of the heartbreak, all of the confusion, all of the traveling and running away. Everything you could possibly think of going wrong just went wrong. Suddenly, the flowers weren’t delivered, and then no one showed up to the reception, and then you were left at the altar, abandoned and unloveable again. You couldn’t breathe; your chest was seizing. It was too tight. There wasn’t enough fresh air in the room. Your heartbeat was too loud, and you couldn’t look away from yourself in the mirror. This wasn’t real; Everything bad happening was in your head. 

Or maybe it was an awful dream, and you need to wake up before it gets too far and your heart gets shattered again. 

JJ whispered your name, reaching out for you, sending a shock of electricity through your arm when she touched it. 

You jumped. 

“I want to talk to him.” You blurted out, looking over at JJ. “I–I need to talk to him.” 

“You said yes.” 

You nodded, staring down at your wine glass, pondering if it was the right decision. Emily was wondering the same thing. 

“I don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to go back to—”

“It is.” You cut her off, not harshly, just firmly. “I haven’t been the same since I left the BAU, and I left for perfectly valid reasons, Em, I know. But….”

“But?” 

“But I miss it. Don’t you? It flexes my muscles in ways I couldn’t replicate, and I was so good at it. I felt smart and useful and not lost, wandering the islands of Greece.”

If you didn’t know her so well, Emily’s fake gasp could have easily been mistaken for a real one. “We had a fantastic time, and you know it.” 

“Yes, but I also know that I was feeling so unfulfilled intellectually that I went off and got a Ph.D. Like, come on, I never wanted a PhD before I left; I just didn’t know how to challenge myself.”

“That is fair. I just think you need to consider the fact that you’d be working with you know who.”

“You can say his name, Emily. He’s not some dark lord; he’s just an idiot with an IQ of 187.” 

“Yeah, Yeah, look. I have to go, but we are not done with this conversation, okay? I’ll need a full PowerPoint presentation with all the pros and the cons.” 

“Yes, ma’am, I can do that. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

You heard the click of her line going dead before there was a knock on your door. You quickly pressed play on your movie, letting one of your favorite rom-coms (When Harry Met Sally) play in the background as you scrounged around for where you had left your wallet. 

Clad in an oversized shirt you’ve had forever, plaid pajama shorts that were once part of a Christmas set, and your comfiest fuzzy socks, you slid over to the door once you had found your wallet. 

You opened the door. “How much…”

His eyes met yours, and you took a small step back. 

“You are not the pizza guy.” 

“No. I’m not.” 

His answer caused you to laugh a little bit, filling his chest with a warmth he hadn’t felt in over two years. 

“Can I–” He gestured into your house, and you moved to the side, allowing him to enter. 

“I, um….” You bit your lip and eyed him up and down. “As long as you’re okay with When Harry Met Sally playing in the background.”

“Time for the annual rewatch.” He smiled at you nervously, but a very small part of yourself enjoyed the fact that he remembered. 

You headed back towards the couch, casually trying to clean up as you went to give the impression that you were cleaner than you were. 

“Shoes off before you get to the couch.” You called over your shoulder. 

The door closed behind Spencer with a soft click. 

“Honey, you said you don’t want a first look.”

“We don’t have to look at each other—I don’t know, like a corner or something. I just..I-I-I.” 

JJ watched as your panic started to bubble over, and she took your hands in hers. “Want to call him first?” 

You nodded. “Y-Yeah, let’s try that.” 

JJ handed you your phone off the vanity, watching as you dialed the number, panicking even more when it wouldn’t connect—there was no service. 

Spencer had asked you to play chess with him that night, and you obliged. Something about falling into an old routine felt good; it felt right. A movie you chose in the background while playing chess against Spencer. Some things were always meant to be. The night was filled with laughs, small talk, and contentment–life feeling like it should. 

A familiarity shrouded you both, mocking the comfort you once used to feel.

When you won, he was a bit baffled. You had only beaten him a few times, and he was focusing on all of the outcomes. How could he not notice—

“You can’t win every game, Spence.” 

His heart lodged in his throat at the nickname, and he looked up at you, that goofy half smile on his lips. 

Lovestruck. He looked lovestruck. 

And then you exhaled. “We can’t avoid it forever. I know that’s why you came here in the first place.” 

He blinked away the love, replacing it with guilt, hurt, fragments of something you both had grieved in your own time. 

“Y-yeah. Let’s um, let’s talk about…”

You redialled the number only to be met with the same beeping as before, eyes wide as you looked at JJ. “There’s no service. JJ, I can’t–he won’t…” 

Emily handed you her phone–it was ringing, thank god. 

“Hey Emily, is everything okay?” 

“It’s me.” You said simply, but the wobble in your voice said everything he needed to hear.

“oh–Honey, talk to me. What’s going on? What’s wrong?” 

“I-I…” You swallowed your tears and looked over at your two friends—you gestured slightly, silently asking them to leave the room so you could talk to your future husband alone. They obliged, letting the door close. It was nice of them to pretend like they weren’t running over to see if they could eavesdrop from his room, but they were just met with Derek in the hall, who had also been booted out. 

“Is she okay?” 

Emily shook her head. “No idea. She was fine one moment, and she was about to burst the next. Like a complete shift of personality.” 

Derek sighed. “I’ve never seen him switch so quickly either. He was all nervous one minute, but the second he heard her voice….he almost sounded like Hotch doing damage control.” 

JJ laughed slightly at that, glancing back at the door hiding you behind it. 

“Do you think she’ll go through with it?” Derek whispered slowly, making sure no one was around to hear him. 

Emily fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist. “She’s terrified he’s not going to.” 

“Look, Spence, I get it. Shit happens. But you don’t know what it was like, coming home one day and you were laughing with someone else. You hadn’t laughed for months, almost a year, before then.”

“I know. I’m so–”

“Say sorry one more fucking time. Sorry isn’t explaining…or talking to me. I know you have trouble expressing whatever bullshit is going on in your head, but you have to try. It’s me, for fucks sake, Spence, And while I am willing to wait, I can only be so patient for so long with no actual explanation—” 

“I was terrified of you.”

“What…” 

Spencer stood up, pacing back and forth in front of your coffee table, trying to find the right words. “You were so far gone when Em died, and you had sunk into this pit of despair, and I was scared of watching you push down this path, destructive and–and; I didn’t know who you were, and I was so scared to watch you go down this path so I turned away instead.” 

“Spencer, you ran to JJ. You just left me here, alone. And then, when she comes back, you fucking threaten the fact that you were having Dilaudid cravings?”

“I think he’s even more mortified that she will back out on him. He knows everything she’s gone through. I mean–I love her, but she’s got major commitment issues.” 

JJ slapped his arm and glared at him. “And for good reason, Derek.” 

Derek grumbled an ‘ow,’ rubbing at his arm. “I’m not saying it wasn’t justified–I completely side with her on it--I’m just pointing out what we already know.” 

Spencer closed his eyes. “I don’t love you anymore.” 

Your heart leaped into your throat, or maybe it was vomit, you weren’t sure, but all you could do was stare at him from across the kitchen countertop. 

“Since this was my place first, uh…I can give you a couple of weeks to find a place, and I’ll even sleep on the couch…”

You hadn’t even spoken yet, shaking your head. “Stop. Spencer. What.” 

Your head was pounding, hands gripping onto the counter to try and steady yourself.”

“Sorry.” He whispered. He couldn’t even look at you. He was just staring at his hands, almost unsure about what he was saying. 

“Sorry?” You laughed, tears starting to track down your cheeks. “Spencer, this has to be a sick fucking joke..” 

He shook his head. 

Behind the door, You were just pacing back and forth, listening to his voice, trying to erase this memory from your mind and find a new one to replace it, barely listening to the man on the other end of the line. 

“Hey, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. If you want to call the whole thing off, everyone will understand. If it’s not right—.” 

“No.” You responded immediately. “I–I, I want to do this, I want to marry you…just…”

“You just needed some reassurance. I know.”

You nodded, not realizing he couldn’t hear you nod, but somehow, it felt like he did. 

“I love you.” 

You smiled, exhaling shakily. “Good.” 

His laugh bubbled through his lips, causing you to take another breath.

“I’ll see you out there?” 

“Can you just stay on the phone for another minute or so? I just need, like—”

You could hear him nod over the phone. “Anything you want.”

Somehow, you were back in that fucking elevator. Again. 

But this time, it felt like a homecoming rather than a curse you were trying to break. 

When the doors opened, you saw your family leaving little presents on your desk—flowers, balloons, chocolate, even cupcakes from your favorite bakery. They were all so busy setting it up that they didn’t notice as you walked up behind them, peering over their shoulders. 

“Looks good, guys.” 

“You think—” Derek did a double take and clutched his chest. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.” 

You laughed and smiled at him, dropping your bag onto your chair. “It looks wonderful. You guys didn’t have to do anything for me–”

“Actually, we did. How could we not? I mean! She’s home! She’s back solving crimes in sexy-looking outfits!” Garcia wrapped her arm around your shoulders, resting her head on yours. 

“I love it, guys, thank you.” 

JJ briskly walked past you all, giving you a brief smile, almost running up the stairs and into Hotch’s office. 

“Well, looks like you’re getting thrown right back into it.” Derek sighed. 

Hotch came out of his office and smiled at you before nodding at the others. “Wheels up in forty, everyone. I’ll brief you all on the plane.” 

“Good.” 

“Just breathe y/n. Okay? I’ll be the one at the end of the altar with the incredibly well-tailored suit and those flowers you like so much pinned to my chest.”

“You’re gonna cry.” You whispered jokingly, taking in a deeper breath than before. “I look so good in this dress. I actually was crying about it before I made Emily call you.” 

“It’s like you’re trying to kill me.”

Derek knocked on your door, leaning his ear up against it, trying to hear what you were saying. He called out your name, and after about a minute, you told him it was unlocked. 

“Can I come in?”

“If you want Derek, it is entirely up to you.” 

He opened the door, tears welling up the second he saw you. 

Hearing him enter, you faced him, smiling softly at him. 

All Derek could do was take you in for a second, unable to really think of what he was about to tell you. This felt a bit ridiculous since he was there when you picked out the dress, but watching you now, ready to actually wear it for its intended purpose, was a whole different ball game. 

“You look…..”

“Right.” You whispered, walking over and squeezing his hand. “I’m ready. Let’s do this thing before shit goes south.”

______________________________________________________________

“Y/n, You are the love of my life, and I could give you an eternal list of every single moment of my life where I felt nothing but complete and utter adoration for you. But then last week, you picked the movie you thought we should watch: a nineties rom-com, obviously, with big romantic gestures and a heroine who doesn’t need to be tamed. And those two inspired me to give you instead a list of the ten things I hate about you.” 

Spencer had gotten a good look at you for the first time in a long time. He had already felt guilty about the fact that he had Maeve and that you had broken up. But what he had failed to realize was the same thing Derek had–You were someone entirely different, a ghost of yourself. The guilt was gnawing through his stomach when he told Hotch what was going on, and he had begged Hotch to let you sit out, trying to save you from this, but clearly, Spencer couldn’t do anything right for you anymore. He hadn’t been able to in a very long time. Hotch had cleared his throat while Spencer shook his head. “I-I tried Hotch, I really didn’t want…”

He just nodded at Spencer. “I know, Reid, but you must have known there was no way this conversation would go any better than that.” 

Reid just nodded and stood up, going out into the bullpen, not missing the way all of their eyes snapped to him as Penelope dumped her broken mug into the trash. 

Before anyone could say anything, Hotch walked out of his office and looked at everyone. “As you all could have guessed, Agent Y/L/N will not be joining us on this case. I expect everyone in the conference room in ten.” with that, Hotch walked past Reid and down the stairs toward where he had assumed you had run off to. 

Reid just returned to his desk, sitting and staring at your now empty desk. Hotch had fulfilled your request, letting you move across the bullpen so you didn’t have to sit next to him anymore. 

Some part of the thought that you couldn’t even look at him anymore caused his gut to lurch, causing his hearing to burst for a moment. Maybe this was too fucked up. Perhaps he had been wrong. He thought he was doing the right thing by letting you go, not weighing you down with all his own bullshit, but he realized he had failed to pay attention. 

Spencer thought long and hard, trying to piece together everything he had thought about in the past couple of months when it came to you, and that’s when he realized it was every day. He thought about you every day. 

But he had ignored you. He had failed to notice as you crumbled to nothing in front of him. 

“Number ten is that I hate the way you fold laundry. It’s incredible how you manage to fold every single item in a completely different manner. It baffles me. One of the great mysteries in this world that we might never have the answer to.” 

“So you two spoke?”

You held up your finger as you finished the prosecco in your glass. Once you finished, casually, you picked up the bottle and poured yourself a second glass, only beginning to speak when the glass had been filled to your liking. 

“He came over to my apartment, Derek. I had already opened the door, and what was I going to say—”

“How about no?”

“It’s rude to interrupt Derek Morgan.” Penelope elbowed him and took a sip from her own glass. “But he’s right, Y/n. You could have said no and slammed the door in his face.” 

“But that’s not who I am. You know I’m a sucker for closure. You know I wanted to talk to him anyway. I just wasn’t expecting the discussion that ended up happening….”

Derek raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “Do tell Princess.”

You shrugged and took another sip. “We talked about Maeve.”  

The looks you received were exactly what you had expected, only because it was how you felt about the conversation. 

“Number nine. I hate how you pick out what we will watch each week. You just skim through every single title on every platform until the one with the right ‘energy’ calls out to you. And they’re never the same. You manage to match a film to the night perfectly, and I hate how well you can pinpoint that about me. 

“Eight. I hate the way you drive. You manage to be the safest and most dangerous person on the road. There’s nothing more to that one. You terrify me.” 

“I cannot believe you, Spencer Reid. You have the audacity to come to my house, lose at chess, and then accuse me of being the reason our relationship ended!?”

“That’s not what I said.” His voice was desperate. “I’m not blaming anyone but myself, okay? I fucked up. I know I fucked up. I just—You were so–”

“I was so what, Spencer. What about me was just soooo fucking terrifying to you that you decided you didn’t want to propose to me anymore.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

Your jaw dropped. “You’re fucked in the head if you think the part that isn’t fair is me calling you out on that.” 

Spencer paced around, running his hands through his hair. He was going to wear a path in your carpet the way he was pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. 

“Seven. I hate how captivating you are. Whenever you tell a story, there’s no use in getting any work done because all anyone can do is wait for the story to be finished. If there’s no ending–I’ve watched Morgan sulk at his desk until you returned from a meeting because you were running late and didn’t wrap up the end of the story for him. Something about the way you speak, the way you capture people’s attention, is one of the most dangerous weapons I’ve ever seen on the planet. 

“I hate—oh, sorry–Number six.” He smiled at you and squeezed your head. You were shaking slightly as you rapidly blinked away tears, trying to inhale and exhale through your nose. It wasn’t working. Every word this man said made you one second closer to jumping onto him and kissing him senseless. “I hate how smart you are. It’s ridiculous. You can argue so beautifully and eloquently that it makes anyone arguing against you look like a fucking idiot. You speak four fucking languages, making you invincible and even more aggravating since you’ve decided to start learning a fifth one. You have started to beat me every other game in chess, which is actually humiliating for me, and I can’t figure out how you’re doing it. You read everything under the sun and still manage to have a life, friends, and family. I don’t know anyone in the world who could compare to your intellect.”

“Five. I hate how you steal my chocolate-covered pretzels. I bought you a whole fucking cabinet’s worth, and somehow, mine still got eaten.” 

You watched him give you a bit of a stink eye for that one, causing you to kiss his hand lightly. “My apologies.”

“You don’t mean it, and you know it.” He grumbled, flipping his page so that he could keep reading. 

“I hate how beautiful you are. It’s distracting. I can’t work near you anymore because all I want to do is daydream about you. I want to watch you smile for the rest of my life if I can help it.” 

“Three. I hate how much you care. It terrifies me how much you care about other people. I have seen you at your best and your worst moments.” You squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I have seen the worst outcomes of cases we could ever imagine, or the best, and yet you put the same amount of effort and care into all of them. It’s infuriating because you put your life on the line constantly to be able to give people a chance, whether that be to save them from others or to save them from themselves. You are the most considerate person in the world, even to those who might not deserve it.” 

This was not a good case. 

It was never a ‘good case,’ but this one just sucked the absolute life out of you. You had been back for only a month, and it was going too well. You were on top of your game. You were better than ever—but you knew the other shoe would drop.

And it did. 

You were never a big fan of getting shot at, but you would prefer that rather than have to escape a burning building. It was one of your biggest fears, and here it was, being realized. 

You had managed to crawl down to the first floor before everything started to go black. He had sealed the windows. He had sprinkled broken glass along the stairs, causing you to rip open your legs and hands as you slid down the stairs. The more significant shards of glass shredding the back of your pants. It was fucking painful. But you had managed to make it to the kitchen. 

That’s when you saw the firefighters bursting through doors, trying to contain the fire surrounding you. You could feel the burn on your skin as they pulled you out of the building, blood dripping down your legs and hands. 

You must have been one fucked up sight for Hotch to drop everything he was doing and run over to you. But you wished he didn’t because the building behind you exploded. The flames must have hit the gas line, and the house came crashing down. 

You were thrown back from the force, causing you to land on your back. Nothing was broken, nothing was sprained, but adding road rash and hearing loss to your ever-growing list of injuries was not fun. 

Spencer and Hotch, who were shoved to the ground by the blast, scrambled over to you, where you were just lying on the ground, facing the sky, trying to breathe. 

Maybe they were yelling your name or just trying to speak to you, but your head buzzed with the remnants of the explosion. 

You watched as the sky above you filled with smoke and flickered with red hues. At some point, you saw Spencer come into your line of view. He was definitely mouthing your name. 

Just then, like a wave crashing over you again, your hearing came back. Overwhelming could barely describe the feeling of shock running through your body. Your eyes widened as tears sprung to your eyes, your lungs gasping for air, and your mind flooded with adrenaline, with panic. 

“Y/N. Hey. Listen to me. Hey.” Hotch had been trying to get you to sit up. He was going through his own internal panic attack—this scene was a little too close to NYC, to Kate. 

Ambulance sirens blared, and you could hear a beam crash down and spur on the fire—” It hurts. So. Bad.” You finally managed to whisper, still gasping for air. 

Reid wasn’t sure you were even registering that you were sobbing and that tears were racing down your cheeks. 

“Can you sit up?” 

“My hands.” You mumbled. “There-there was glass…so much…” 

You flinched as Hotch yelled for a gurney. 

“I need you to try and sit up, okay?” Spencer was next to you. He was on his hands and knees, slowly trying to gain your attention. There is a gentle touch on the arm here and a brush of your hair out of your eyes. He was just trying to give you peace, a breath amid everything going on.

“Spence.” You whined, flexing your hand, wincing when a tiny shard of glass shifted in your palm, causing even more pain. 

“I know.” He said to you, gently taking your hand and wincing as he saw the microscopic shards scattered across your palm. “I need you to sit up for me.” 

“Please don’t make me get up, Spence.” You whispered. 

Hotch had moved away from the both of you, trying to clear a path so two EMTs could reach you. 

“Once you sit up, I promise you won’t have to do anything else.” 

You closed your eyes and let out a cry. It felt so relieving to just let whatever tension you had left in your body. But the thought of not doing anything sounded even better, so you slowly made your way to a sitting position, leaning against Spencer’s chest as he kissed your head and carefully ran his hand up and down your arm. 

Spencer’s entire body relaxed into yours. He had never been more grateful that you could make it out of that building before…he didn’t want to think about what else would have happened. The two of you had just started talking again. You were hanging out. He would have never forgiven himself if he left things the way they were. 

It felt wrong for him to be grateful at how much you got hurt because all of your limbs were still intact, and you were still conscious, still breathing. But he was thankful as he held you on the pavement, in the middle of the road, while everyone ran around you both. 

You, on the other hand, were not happy to be sitting up. The adrenaline started to wear off, and your body was no longer buzzing. “Spence.” You whispered to him, trying to get his attention. You were nauseous, and the world was spinning. Everything was phasing in, and out of clarity, you could actually feel the earth rotating. 

“Spence.” This time, it was said with more urgency. And it caught his attention. “I need to lie back down.” 

“You can’t—”

“I’m gonna vomit.” 

“Shit shit shit, okay, nausea is usually a sign of a concussion, a really bad one, most likely in the red zone—”

“Spencer, please.” You mumbled, closing your eyes and slumping against him, trying your best to hold down whatever you felt slowly creeping up your throat. 

“I can’t let you lay back down.” He mumbled, turning you in his arms, prepping for whatever would come out. 

Luckily for both of you, the two EMTs and Hotch had made it back over, bucket in hand, because Hotch had told them you most likely had a concussion. And god bless that stupid bucket because it managed to save some of your dignity by not throwing up all over the street. The EMTs had checked you out, flashing that stupid fucking light in your eyes, looking at your hands and doing their best to pull out some of the larger chunks of glass, and then helping to get you onto a gurney, and eventually into an ambulance to be shipped off to the nearest hospital. 

Spencer was the only person you would allow to come with you in the ambulance. 

“Two. I hate how well you know me and can read me like an open book. I have never met someone who knew me in the same way you could. You know things about me before I could even fathom the possibilities. You have been there for me in some of the darkest times of my life, and I would not have survived if it wasn’t for you. You picked me off the ground countless times, more than I could ever repay you for.” 

“And last but not least. I hate how I can’t live without you. I hate that if you’re not in the same room as me, I can’t breathe. I hate how you manage to make my days filled with comfort, support, and love when sometimes I don’t deserve it. I hate when you go away to conferences, and I have to wake up to an empty bed, and the only thing that motivates me is the fact that I know you’ll text me as soon as you’re awake. I hate how you are the last person I want to see at night before I go to sleep. And I hate that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

You were fully crying, tears tracking down your cheeks, as you squeezed his hand tightly. You laughed slightly, trying to wipe away one of the stray tears, but he beat you to it, using his thumb to wipe away your tears gently. 

“Did you just quote When Harry Met Sally at me?” 

He smiled cheekily, handing the paper back to Derek, who put it in his pocket. “What else would I be able to quote at you? It was playing that night…” 

You shook your head, unable to stop the smile across your face. You heard him whisper, “I love you,” but it still made your heart ache. 

“Okay, Doctor Reid. Work your magic.” 

“You make it sound like I’m performing a spell or something. I’m literally just fixing your computer.” 

You snorted and shrugged. “Isn’t it you who always said that physics and magic are basically the same thing.”

“Okay, yes, but—”

“And computer science is a science, right?” 

Spencer just rolled his eyes, realizing he would not win this argument, and began to futz with your desktop. 

It had crashed on you while you were in the middle of a report. At home. In your pajamas. 

This was a practice that was familiar to Spencer. Whenever you were working on something that was not classified or very sensitive information, you had gotten special clearance from Hotch to bring it home. So Spencer has seen you write up preliminary profiles for cases around the country in nothing but your pajamas many times. 

Except he hasn’t seen you in just pajama shorts and a tank top since, well. 

He was supposed to be focusing on the desktop, and that is what he is going to do. 

“I really appreciate you coming over at like 10 pm, Spence. I really do. I’m sure you were busy, so I really appreciate it.”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “It was no trouble, really. Besides.” He turned back to the screen with a cheeky grin across his face. “I know how you get when something breaks.” 

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you leaned against the kitchen counter. “Spencer. Are you…flirting with me…”

His face turned slightly red as he quickly faced the computer screen again. “And so what if I am,” he mumbled, focusing on the task at hand. He wasn’t sure how you managed to freeze your computer this badly, but he was determined to work it out. 

You shrugged and checked your phone, looking at the text from Emily that you had chosen to ignore. Maybe she told you not to ask Spencer over. Maybe she had warned against moving too quickly with anything. 

But you were a grown adult, you could make your own choices. You could—

“It’s, uh, it’s all fixed for you.” Spencer had stood up and was nervously fiddling with his hands. He hasn’t been like this towards you since you had both started dating over seven years ago. 

You bit your lip and casually turned your phone on DnD. 

“Thanks, Spence. I really appreciate it.” 

He nodded, doing his best to stop eying you up and down. 

The two of you stood there, unsure of how to continue on with one another. 

The tension was thick, almost like a humidity in the air that covered your skin and ruined your hair, just by stepping into it. 

Spencer eventually broke eye contact and wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, I’m going to uh…Have a good night.” He quickly grabbed his bag from the counter and shut the door behind him. 

Your hands dragged down your face as you sighed and shook your head. Maybe it was for the best that you two just stayed friends. Maybe it was for the best that you two never were in a relationship again. You remembered what happened last time. Maybe you should just finish the report and go to bed. Or maybe you should run after him. It wouldn’t be that embarrassing, considering he was staring back at you, right? 

Who said you didn’t deserve to make a bad decision every now and again. 

You grabbed your keys and slid on your slippers, not even bothering to grab a coat. You opened the door and came face to face with an out-of-breath Spencer just about to knock on your door. You took one look at each other. 

And that’s when he reached down and brought your lips to his. 

Emily reached over and gently handed you your vows.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You whispered, causing everyone around you to laugh softly at you, desperately trying to stop crying. 

“I said I was going to try not to cry during his, and that obviously was not the case.” You slowly exhaled your lips, taking his hand and smiling up at him.

“Hey.” You whispered, causing him to whisper it back to you. “So–um. I wrote my vows a long time ago. Like, a while back. And I was looking for them and almost couldn’t find them. But I remembered that I had written them in that really small brown, leather journal thing that you got me for one of my birthdays that I kept losing because I always put it down and never remembered where.” 

The small, collected group laughed together, watching you turn the page in that small brown leather journal. 

“I didn’t know where I wanted to start when writing my vows. I knew how I wanted it to end, though. I’ve always known how I wanted my life to end and everything to go. So that’s what I did. I started at my endgame and worked my way backward. But shit happens, and life never goes according to plan. Never.” 

He squeezed your hand. 

Those weeks after were fucking brutal for you. 

Relaxing was something you were never fantastic at, so having to take two weeks off to recover from your concussion, burns, cuts, and bruises was excruciating. 

Maybe it would have been worse if a certain someone wasn’t basically living in your apartment with you, doing anything and everything to be there for you. 

You woke up to freshly brewed coffee, sometimes breakfast if he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes, he’d be home in time to make you both dinner. It felt oddly domestic for you, reminding you of before Maeve, before everything that had gone down over the phone. 

Once the two weeks were over, he might have visited to check up on you. There would be nights where he would stay over just in case your head or back started to hurt again. It took more convincing for Spencer to let you go back to work than it did for your actual neurologist. 

“Need I remind you I’m a doctor too, Spencer. I’m going back to work on Monday, meaning two over one, majority rules.” 

Spencer scoffed and crossed his arms. “The lights will cause headaches, and staring at screens and files will only add to that. It’s a bad idea, y/n. Especially if we have to go somewhere, traveling across the country in a plane. You might as well knock yourself out because the air pressure would kill your head and ear drums.” 

“Always the one for dramatics, aren’t we.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m not being dramatic. I just care about your well-being, apparently more than you do—”

“Spence.”

“What.”

You kissed him softly. Just to shut him up. There were no ulterior motives. None. 

He hummed, hands sliding around your waist, keeping you close to him as you broke the kiss. 

That was another development you were keeping under wraps. The two of you might have decided to give it another shot. It had been over a month since you rejoined the BAU, and even before you got severely injured, Spencer had been doing everything he could to apologize. Whether that be his apologies or through his actions, he was stepping up. 

But both of you had yet to outright tell the others. Emily knew something was going on, especially when you showed up to work in the same outfit two days in a row, but she had assumed you had seen someone else, not your ex. 

You didn’t mind, though, when he took such good care of you when he bought you fresh flowers every week, when he kissed you past the point of breathing when he would—

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer whispered, interrupting whatever spiral you had started.

“What book I should read next.” 

“Liar.” He squeezed your sides, laughing softly and kissing you again. 

“There’s not much I can say about how life doesn’t go as planned since everyone here with us understands and knows how quickly life changes. But I realized that I need to have you by my side regardless of how it changes. I don’t want to be back in a place where I’m not with you because it just didn’t make any sense.” 

“My vows are short because I would never make it through them if they were any longer.” 

This caused another ripple of laughter throughout your friends, giving your fiancé a moment to wipe away another stray tear on your cheek. 

“All of this to say.” You cleared your throat, but it didn’t stop the tears from clouding your vision. “Shit. Give me a second.” 

Emily gave you a tissue, which you used to wipe under your eyes. You shook your hands slightly, trying to calm yourself down and shake out the rest of the emotions so that you could at least finish saying your vows. 

“Having begun to love you, I love you forever—in all changes, in all disgraces, because you are yourself.”

Spencer beamed joyfully, realizing you followed his same path, quoting something you knew the other loved. 

And suddenly, the stars aligned. A soft breeze picked up, and the world was quiet. 

Everything was alright. Everything was okay. 

And for that beautiful, brief moment, you had everything you could have ever asked for, and there was nothing you would have changed, nothing in the whole world that was worth the love and happiness you felt in this moment, beaming at Spencer as you both said

I do. 

“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.” - Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @gubzgirl @onlyspence @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @mynameisnotokay @kalulakunundrum @academiareid @lilsunshine1092 @brilliantreid @shqwqrma @cluelessteam @lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests @hereforfun22-blog @yoursarahg @r-3dlips @lilrios-world @hereforfun22-blog @mega-kittyglitter-1

[thegoldencontracts]

Housewardens with a Tsundere!Reader (Pt. 1)

I've seen this a lot, and I wanted to share my own takes on how I think they'd act! This is a part one, including Riddle, Leona, and Azul.

Summary: You're tough, brash, and rude, getting snippy at all those who try to approach you. All for the sake of covering up your soft side. How do the housewardens react?

Notes: Romance, GN!reader

Contains: Riddle, Leona, Azul

Riddle Rosehearts

He thinks your behavior is highly improper.

When he first approaches you, you do not hesitate to screech that he's an idiot.

He can and will try to collar you if you're getting particularly loud.

All in all, he thinks you and your defensive, brash nature are utterly infuriating. If you hit him, expect to be collared. You're just- so annoying.

...So why does his heart race whenever he's around you?

That's right. Riddle's also a tsundere (sometimes, at least)

And that means you two are evenly matched

Poor Trey often has to watch you two and your constant bickering, and your occasional stammering.

You yell that Riddle's an idiot, he says you're a buffoon who never learned to respect the rules. Both of you secretly like each other. It is painful to watch.

You make Riddle lunch and you claim you just had extra. Of course, he responds by denying his appreciation.

Who will confesses first? It really depends on whose friends decide to finally intervene.

All in all, you two have a cute yet infuriating to watch relationship.

Leona Kingscholar

He doesn't have time for you, or so he thinks.

When he first sees you, rebuking you for encroaching upon his territory, you call him an idiot for thinking anyone would ever take his ridiculous territory claims seriously.

You're not off to a great start. Leona is very likely to try and make you put your money where your mouth is.

...With a game of chess, of course! Leona just woke up and doesn't feel like particularly like fighting right now.

That, and, he doesn't know why, but he really doesn't feel like getting you hurt.

Considering just how good Leona is, there's a very good chance he'll absolutely demolish you.

But if you manage to win, he'll definitely be impressed.

Either way, he'll tell you to stop bothering him. You huff, and say he was the one bothering you, and that's that.

Except it isn't. Of course, somehow, the two of you end up stuck together. First you're paired up in a joint class, then you're both locked in the botanical gardens during an emergency, and then Ruggie keeps making the two of you talk.

Leona hates it. Considering the way you huff, you do you.

Except, once again, neither of you do.

You actually try to get closer to Leona - despite the roundabout, brash way you go about it - and he hates that he likes it.

Your average interaction at first consists of him telling you to 'get away, herbivore', and you yelling at him to 'stop bossing me around, idiot!'

But slowly, he stops pushing you away. And you warm up with time too.

You're weirdly friendly - though sometimes, your insults do genuinely get to Leona. You'll apologize in that roundabout, flustered way of yours, and though Leona rarely vocalizes, he'll accept.

He doesn't want to lose you, after all, no matter how much he pretends he couldn't care less.

Leona doesn't confess first. You don't confess first. Ruggie confesses first on both of your behalfs, and though Leona plans to chew him out at first, when things work out, Ruggie quickly finds himself on the receiving end of countless donuts.

While dating, both of you will likely be softer with one another.

Once again, very cute relationship, and both of you are so harsh and yet so soft with each other at the same time.

Azul Ashengrotto

At first, Azul genuinely dislikes you. Your posturing, your pride, the way you seem to look down on him with your endless insults reminds him of those who bullied him.

But, Azul isn't that same little octopus anymore. He's grown used to insults, sadly. He's been looked down on all his life.

Your words mean nothing to him. They're a slight sting at most.

Overall, he'd just like to stay away from you. The moment you first met, you told him to "S-Stay away from me, you scheming idiot!"

Then, when he - in an attempt to stay smug despite his burgeoning temper - asked you if you were scared, you replied that you could never be scared of a slow, clumsy loser like him.

Slow, clumsy, idiotic octopus. That's what they called him as a kid.

And then, he sees your cuter moments. The more endearing ones. And he can't help but feel his heart flutter against his wishes.

God, Azul hates it. He hates how cute he finds you, how his heart races whenever he's around you.

Love is a position of vulnerability. Azul's meant to take advantage of it, not be the one stuck with it!

And, well, Azul's never known anything but rejection when it comes to true connection. Even the twins always insisted they were nothing more than his business partners (though the accuracy of their claim is rather dubious).

And you? You're going to mock him for sure.

Truth be told, Azul's scared. He's scared of what'll happen if you find out about the budding feeling in his chest, and he's scared of being laughed at by someone who he can't help but love.

So, of course, he tries to keep his walls up. Never drop that smug air of his. Never let you see the burgeoning fear underneath.

But that doesn't work out. You do manage to squeeze out the cracks in his facade, but then you laugh, saying he should really drop that infuriating smug face and do this more often because it looks cute, and he doesn't know what to do.

People aren't supposed to love this side of him. Least of all you. You're always insulting him, after all!

And yet, you think he looks cute like this. He hates how much his face flushes at that.

Now that Azul's developed a crush, he can't deny that, now, there are times when your jabs get to him. He doesn't say anything. He can't. He had to remain composed, because otherwise he's opening himself up to endless mockery.

But one day, it gets to him, and he finds himself hunched in a corner, reverting to his old habits as he furiously checks himself for any imperfections. What's he doing wrong? Is his voice truly annoying?

...And then you walk in on him.

How had he forgotten to lock the door? He feels like such a moron, but he can't let you see, or-

You're nothing but patient and apologetic. Even as he hisses at you to leave, threatens you, and tries to make you a contract, you're still patient.

You apologize, for once. He can't help but still get prickly with you, after all, you've just witnessed a humiliating moment of his that you caused. But he still does appreciate it.

You two do gradually get closer, softer, doing favors for one another. Feelings are budding. And yet, neither of you do anything.

Eventually, Jade and Floyd intervene, and just straight up set you two up. It's embarrassing for the both of you, but hey, at least you got together.

Azul's still docking their pay, of course.

Though the two of you get off to a rough start, you still manage to find your way together in the end.

[ferretrade]

y'all voted overwhelmingly for the codywan bodyguard/fake marriage au in that poll last month so I come bearing a little intro/teaser for it. :)

It's an ordinary Tuesday and Cody should've known it wouldn't stay that way.

When he comes into work, Fox and Wolffe are holed up arguing in their office. Cody diligently ignores them in favor of getting on with his own shit in the relative peace; he's only just gotten their accounts into shape and he's still working on maximizing their profits and cutting down expenses. (They were rather bleeding money when Fox and Wolffe had been taking care of the books themselves.) 

Before long, his closed door is ignored and the brothers stroll in with a feral energy that raises Cody's hackles. Last time they looked like that, they'd roped him into joining their business—and the time before, he'd been convinced to go cliff jumping. Trouble, all the same. 

"Cody," Fox croons dangerously. 

"No thank you."

Fox scoffs. "Told you he wouldn't even hear us out."

Cody narrows his eyes. "You can't taunt me into being interested," he lies. From Fox's smirk, he knows. (And isn't that just the problem with working with family?) 

"Cody, Fox," Wolffe snaps exasperatedly. "Can we get to the point?" 

It's serious, then. Cody frowns. "What is it? You need to fire someone?" 

"It's a job," Fox says, sitting on the edge of Cody's desk. "We need someone undercover and you're it." 

"I'm not a guard," Cody points out. He was very specific when he joined Canidae Personal Protection; he'd gone to school for business management and accounting—he's the numbers guy, the one who could keep his brothers' dream running and growing. Because, look, he supports it one hundred percent. Fox and Wolffe had long wanted to have a one stop shop for protective services and self-defense classes, specifically for underserved communities who were really in danger. But that didn't mean he wanted to be a bodyguard or even a trainer. Cody made sure they could do what they wanted and found ways they could put more money toward the people who mattered. That's where his skills really make a difference. 

"That's why you're ideal for this. It needs to be… discreet."

Cody narrows his eyes at Fox, trying to discern what exactly he's not being told. 

Wolffe sighs. "Cody, you're our best man for the job. We need someone we can trust." 

"Bly," Cody names. 

Wolffe glares at Fox and Cody imagines this was part of the argument he overheard earlier. 

"Not possible," Fox insists, mostly to Wolffe. "To do something undercover on this level, with this time crunch? We need a blank slate. No partner, no bodyguarding history, but capable of guarding." 

Undercover. No partner. Ah. "You want me to be a pretend boyfriend." 

Fox lights up. "Not quite," he says. "But that's the real highlight, this guy is your type. You'll have no trouble selling it."

"My type?" Cody raises an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"Don't act like you don't have one," Fox scoffs. "We know you."

"Look," Wolffe jumps in before it can get messy. "You'll get along with him, is all. And you're not engaged."

Cody hums. Fair, Bly wouldn't be suited to pretend date someone else. Cody still doesn't like it, but he can see the desperation on Wolffe's face and hiding behind Fox's pushing. Whatever the reason, they really do need him. 

"Fine," Cody relents. "But you're telling me every detail and I'm not cheap." 

"Great." Fox grins sharply as he hops off the desk, clapping his hands together. "I already hacked your data. Congrats, you're now Cody Kenobi." 

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | AO3

-----

Eddie's not sure how long he's been sitting there when the sound of footsteps approaching breaks through, and he hears Steve's quiet little, "hey."

"They pick you to go check on the new guy, make sure I'm not freaking out?" Eddie asks without looking up.

"Are you freaking out?"

Eddie doesn't know. He's not sure why it's this, of all things, that has made him need to step back - he likes to think he's been handling all this Upside Down shit pretty damn well so far, aside from the running and cursing and panicking. It doesn't make sense that this is the thing that finally makes the buzzing in his chest grow too loud.

"Thank you," he says instead of answering. "You didn't - you didn't have to do that."

He thinks Steve might point out that yeah, he kind of did, that they have a world to save and they can't do that if the noble minded citizens of Hawkins are determined to hunt down a party member and thwart their efforts.

"I know," Steve says instead, and that makes Eddie look up at him.

Steve shrugs one shoulder. "None of us have to do any of this, you know? There's like, a hundred moments that every one of us could have said nah, fuck this. But we all chose to be in this, to keep going."

"Not me," Eddie says, even as his brain is telling him to shut the hell up and let the cute boy keep saying us like Eddie chose to be a part of this. Like he isn't a coward riding on all of their coattails. "I run, Steve, that's what I do. You think if I had any real choice, if I had anywhere else to go, I wouldn't be gone already?"

Steve wrinkles his nose at him. "What was it that you said Dustin was asking you to do? Come with us to Mordor? Pretty sure I heard you say yes."

"Yeah, because the Shire was burning!" he says. "Not exactly a great choice, to stay with the Hobbits and burn or follow the Fellowship into Mordor."

Steve gives him a crooked smile and a steely little gaze. "No one stays in a burning building, Eds, that's not a real comparison."

His throat works as he tries to swallow without swallowing his tongue, and he tries very hard to focus on what Steve is saying and not on exactly how Eds makes him feel.

"There's three kinds of people when somewhere's burning - there's the ones that started it, the ones trying to stop it, and the ones getting as far away from the first two as possible. You had plenty of options to be the last, but you picked the second."

"What options?" he demands, aware that he's sounding a little hysterical. "No car, no money, no where to go, cops and crazy townies looking for me, what else was I supposed to do?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, sure, fine, when you were alone. But then you had us. You could have asked us to call your uncle to bail you out, you could have asked to be dropped off out of town, hell, you could have stolen the camper and said all right, this is your stop, see you guys later."

Eddie rears back, stung. "You think I'd do that? That I'd just take the camper and leave you guys all to it?"

Steve throws up his hands, exasperated, and Eddie feels a flare of concern when he notices the way Steve's eyes tighten in pain before he lowers them down.

"No!" Steve protests before Eddie can say anything about it. "Of course I don't, that's exactly my point! You could have left us, but you didn't. You made that choice."

Eddie's jaw snaps shut with an audible click as he realizes that he can't protest both things - can't insist that of course he never would have left them and say that he'd be gone if he had any real choice in the matter.

"Fuck you, Harrington," he says instead, aware that he sounds mulish and defensive but unable to stop himself. "It doesn't really count as options if all of them are bad."

Steve looks at him, unimpressed. "Now you're just moving the goalposts."

It's Eddie's turn to roll his eyes at that. "Stop making everything about sports."

"I will when you all stop making everything about Dungeons and Dragons," he replies without missing a beat, then drops down to sit next to him. "Give yourself a break. You're not the only one who's ever run."

Eddie snorts. "Yeah? Who?"

"Me."

Eddie turns sharply, but Steve isn't looking at him, staring out into the woods instead.

"You?" Eddie demands. "Mister I have to be the one to jump in the creepy lake to find the gate to hell for nonsense reasons?"

"They weren't nonsense," Steve protests. "And yeah, come on. I know you thought I was a douchebag before all of this, how are you surprised?"

"I never said douchebag," Eddie mutters, as if that's the point.

"I was a douchebag. So yeah, I ran." He pushes his hand through his hair. "I went to Jonathan's, when he and Nancy were trying to lure a demogorgon in to take it out. Had no idea what the fuck was going on, only that there were weapons everywhere and they were both bleeding and Nance pointed a gun at me. One of those things showed up, and they freaked, and I freaked, and they told me to get the hell out, and I did."

Eddie can't stop staring at him, and Steve has to notice, but he just keeps looking out into the woods.

"Made it as far as my car, freaking out so bad I dropped my keys, and then I looked back at the house and saw the lights flashing and I knew they were both in there, and…"

He trails off.

"And the paladin was born," Eddie murmurs.

That makes Steve look at him, finally, brows furrowed. "Come on, man, no. Dustin's been trying that, he says he's still got a sheet for one of them all worked up for me. I'm not playing any time soon."

Eddie waves a hand. "Not a character, Steve, I'm talking about real life. You're a real life paladin."

Steve lets out a little huff. "Whatever. The point is, I ran the first time, too. And I ran after - I tried to put it all behind me, to pretend like it was over and done with and we could just move on. It wasn't until later that I realized I wasn't ever going to be able to just step aside." He gives a wry little laugh, a roll of his eyes. "Not when this crew's determined to never stay on the bench."

"So you just. Always put yourself between danger and whoever it's coming for?"

Steve frowns at him. "Well, yeah. Someone's gotta protect all these little shits when they go barreling into trouble, and as long as I have a say in it, that someone's gonna be me."

Eddie groans. "You're making it really hard for me not to point out the paladin similarities, Harrington."

"Shut up," Steve says, giving him a little shove, but he doesn't sound like he actually minds it. "I'm not a - whatever."

"No? You're not a white knight, charging into battle to protect women and children and one dumbass freak in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Eddie drops out of his crouch, landing with his ass on the grass as he leans back to bat his eyelashes at Steve. "Come on, Steve, take a little credit for being our hero, you know you want to."

"You're so ridiculous." Steve rolls his eyes. "It's just better me than them."

And Eddie - he's not sure he likes that. Robin's he does this every time echoes in his mind, and his eyes narrow as he searches Steve's expression. "Fuck, is this some self sacrificial bullshit? Do you just have a death wish?"

"It's not like that. Trust me, I'm not looking to sacrifice myself, and I'm really not eager to kick the bucket before I'm twenty. It's just…"

There's no sting of writing on his skin. Eddie chooses to believe that means it's not a lie, for the sake of his own sanity, and he stays quiet while he lets Steve figure out how to explain what it's just.

"It's just when you're making a play, you have to be tactical about it, right? You have to think about your opposition, know what the other team's bringing to the game. You have to take everyone on your team into account - what are their skills and strong points, what are their weaknesses, who do you play together so they cover each other. I know what my strengths are. I know what I bring into this team and what I don't, and right now? I'm our heavy-hitter. I can dish it out, and I can take a hit better than anyone else here."

He does this every time.

Eddie wants to protest, to demand to know why it always has to be Steve, but he remembers the quiet resignation in Robin's voice, and he gets the feeling it's a conversation they've already had. Not that that would necessarily stop him from repeating it, of course, but - he doesn't really know how to counter that. Steve hadn't sounded self depreciating, hadn't sounded like he thinks he's worth less than everyone else here - though Eddie's not sure that isn't mixed in there, somewhere. He'd just… sounded practical.

Strategy. No different from when he was captain of whatever the hell sport he was playing at the time, this is what I'm good at, this is what I do.

"You're good at this, aren't you?" Eddie asks slowly.

Steve quirks a wry smile. "Good at getting beat up and still going? Yeah, I've had some practice."

Eddie shakes his head. "No, good at this. Strategizing. Thinking about people's strengths and weaknesses and how to make them work together."

"Oh. I mean, yeah, I guess I'm okay? Not strategizing like-" He waves a hand at the other side of the camper, back where Eddie assumes everyone else is still moving forward with things. "But I've always been good at the people thing. Rob likes to remind me of that, tells me to use it for good."

Like today. Eddie's throat clicks as he swallows, looking at Steve. "What would you do, against Vecna?"

Steve looks thrown, like he has no idea how this conversation got here and what he's supposed to do with it now.

Eddie knows the feeling.

"We already did the only thing I wanted to add to it," Steve says.

"Not add," Eddie says. "Forget our current plan, okay? Clean slate. New, uh. New play, new game, same opponent."

Part of Eddie wants to die a little at the words that just came out of his mouth. The bigger part wants to die even more at the begrudging realization that they could fit a campaign just as easily as they could a sports game.

But the biggest part wants to see where this is going. Wants to poke and prod at Steve, to make him think in a way that it sounds like everyone in this party except Robin has been overlooking.

It's one of his favorite things about DMing. Watching what his players come up with, nudging and encouraging them, and being absolutely gobsmacked by their creativity and strategy.

Steve actually looks like he's considering it, like he's not just brushing Eddie off. "I'd still do Nance's plan," he says finally. Then, almost reluctantly, he adds, "But I'd wait."

"You'd wait?" Eddie prompts.

"Yeah. I'd stall as long as we could. I figure the longer it goes, the more desperate - or at least irritated - Vecna gets, maybe he'll slip up, make some mistakes. But mostly I'd stall as long as we could for El."

"Who's El?"

Steve smiles, bittersweet. "El's a great kid with too much on her shoulders. But in all this? She's our real heavy-hitter. She's major league, and I'm back playing t-ball."

Eddie leans forward, starting to see the shape of things. He can see why the little shits keep using D&D terminology to explain what's going on. It's a campaign, he reminds himself, and if he keeps thinking of it like that, it's not as terrifying. "How do you stall?"

"What? El doesn't even have her powers anymore!"

Eddie startles at the interruption, heart pounding and nerves on edge - out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve do the same, hand jerking to the ground like he's reaching for a weapon he doesn't have.

"Don't do that!" Steve demands, even as he's already relaxing.

It's Henderson, Eddie knows that before he even turns to see that he and Robin have come around to their little side of the camper - he recognizes that tone exactly from their campaigns, when the little butthead is protesting another player's plan of action.

Eddie shoots him an icy, pointed glare - also exactly the same as he would do if someone had interrupted him in the middle of a session.

Dustin glances back and forth between them, withering at the combined force of both of their unimpressed expressions. "Not that I'm saying it's a bad idea. Just! I need a little more info here, okay?"

"It's not about her powers, not exactly. It's-" Steve makes a frustrated noise, and looks over at Robin, doing something complicated with his expression.

Robin immediately takes over. "Max doesn't have powers, right? But we're letting her go up against Vecna in her mind anyway, because she's the best equipped to handle it."

Steve snaps his fingers. "Yes! El has the most experience with the lab and the Upside Down. She's got the home team advantage, and she's used to bopping around in people's minds. Her and Will would be even better. We stand a better chance with them."

Dustin's looking at Steve in a way that Eddie recognizes, just a little - a dimmer echo of the way he'd always lit up when he insisted that Steve was a badass. "Okay," he says, dropping down to sit next to them. "How would you stall?"

Steve looks back and forth between Eddie and Robin. "I'd talk to Max. See how she's feeling, how strong Vecna is, if the tape's getting weaker, how long she thinks it can last. If she can sense any changes in Vecna. We keep checking in, keep it up as long as we can, and have her try to get a message to El."

"I'm in," Max says, plopping down to wedge herself into their group.

Eddie only screams a little.

Steve looks at her, his absolutely not face already in full swing.

"Don't look at me like that, this is your plan," she tells him.

"Hypothetical! This is all hypothetical!" Steve makes a chopping motion with his hand, like he's cutting it off there. "Max, the longer we wait, the more danger you're in."

She gives him the most unimpressed look that Eddie's ever seen. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be the most in danger by inviting him into my head to chase me around and hope I can hide well enough for you guys to kill him before he kills me. I'd much rather have El here for all of that, thanks."

If Eddie didn't know better, he'd think he saw the faintest wobble in her eyes, or maybe her tone.

Steve goes the softest that Eddie's ever seen him. "Maxie," he starts.

She kicks his knee before he can get more than that out.

"Hey!" he yelps. "Fine, whatever, okay, but we need everyone to agree. And you have to promise me that you'll tell us the truth about how you're feeling. We have to know any change, and I mean any change."

"I promise," she agrees easily.

Dustin, Robin, and Steve all share a glance. Eddie's - not actually sure how they manage it, but it makes Max huff in irritation.

"I promise. You can even use stalker as a lie detector." She jerks her head back towards the other side of the camper. There's a moment of silence, then she rolls her eyes. "I don't care if Munson knows who my soulmates are."

Soulmates, plural, and she already knows who they are? Eddie's stomach clenches a little, wondering once again what these kids have gone through that was so intense that Max'd found her soulmates before she even hit high school.

"So how do I send a message to El?" Max asks.

Steve rubs a hand over his jaw, pinching the bridge of his nose. "All right, let's get everyone back together, then."

They catch Nancy, Lucas, and Erica up in quick, terse sentences - Nancy looks irritated at the suggestion of delaying the plan, and Lucas keeps shooting little worried glances at Max, like he wants to protest, too, but knows Max well enough to know it won't do much if she's set her mind to it.

"I promise to let you guys know the second there's any change, and to answer any question you ask about it directly and immediately," Max dutifully repeats after some prompting.

Only then does Lucas relax.

"Come on, Steve, how do I get a message to El?" she asks again.

Steve quirks a little smile. "You tell us a lie."

There's a second before Eddie figures out what he's saying, and then he's pretty sure he stops breathing.

"You say something like 'I don't want to tell my soulmate that an evil clock obsessed wizard is out to get me, and I don't want her and her brothers to get their asses back to Hawkins immediately.'"

Dimly, Eddie hears a round of sharp inhales, and he's pretty sure he's not the only one staring at Steve anymore.

"Holy shit, Steve," Dustin says, sounding impressed.

"You sure that'll work?" Nancy asks.

"Yeah," Steve says. "I used to do it with my soulmate all the time when we were younger, so, uh. Technically you can thank them for the idea."

It's him, fuck. It has to be. His soulmate has to be Steve, there's no other -

"Yeah," Robin agrees, spreading her hands like me too.

And all right, okay, so Eddie wasn't the only one to think of trying to talk to his soulmate like that, he kind of figured that. But this is still way too many coincidences, shit, there's no way his soulmate isn't Steve goddamn Harrington, and what is he supposed to do with that?

Still, at least Robin solved his problem of how to agree with Steve without making it obvious that he might be Steve's soulmate.

"Me too," he manages to say. "It'll work."

Max nods, jaw working as she thinks for a moment - then her gaze shoots over to Lucas. He scoots over to sit next to her, and she barely has time to look back at Steve before Steve's dropped down to sit in front of her. Dustin takes up a spot on her other side at the same time, and she lets out a slow exhale.

The three of them were with her when she - when Vecna tried to get to her, Eddie remembers, and he fidgets with his rings to hide the way his hands shake as he tries not to think of how Chrissy'd looked right before she died.

"It helps if you're having a conversation with someone, and you think about your phrasing and say things you know are lies," Steve offers.

Exactly like Eddie'd pictured his soulmate doing. Yeah, fuck, okay, that's a great way to think about something else, but not something he really wants to think about, either.

"So, Mad Max!" Dustin says brightly. "How's your day going?"

"I'm not in danger," Max responds, which - blunt, yup, that should do it, even if it makes Eddie wince.

"Yeah, what's there to be in danger from?" Lucas asks.

"I'm not being targeted by something from the Upside Down."

"That's good, because how would we stop something like that?" Steve chimes in.

"We don't think we know his plan," Max says, then her eyes close. "I don't need my soulmates. I don't want El to come back to me, right now."

They all pretend they don't hear the tremor of emotion in her voice.

There's a tense silence for a little while.

"It took a little while for me to be able to respond, if I wasn't expecting it," Robin says, low and anxious. "I mean - I didn't respond much, because it freaked me out, but when I did."

"Same," Eddie says. "I sprung it on mine probably too much, and I usually didn't get an answer right away."

He doesn't look at Steve. Then he realizes - shit, he can't make it obvious he's not looking at Steve, so he darts his gaze over to him.

Steve only has eyes for Max, though, and Eddie feels a little bit relieved.

Eventually, Max jolts, and rolls down her sock. Scrawled across her ankle is I don't have my powers back. I don't think my soulmate should wait. I'm not coming.

So they wait.

Taglist (hopefully I got everyone, and always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @affablevixen @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

-----

Part 10

[lihhelsing]

Hate That I Loved You

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 ↓ | Part 6

As always, Eddie gets sucked in the shoot. After the scene with Steve is done, he needs to work on some scenes with the band and he loses track of time. This music video is important. It needs to be perfect. 

Not only because he’s putting himself out there and showing all his broken pieces to the world, but also because it could be the difference between making it and getting forgotten. 

The pressure is on, and Eddie isn’t very good at working under pressure. It makes him want to run and hide. It makes him want to disappear, andx` it takes a toll on him to stay present, attentive. 

It makes him almost forget about Steve. It makes him think Steve left, but when he’s finally done, he walks back to his dressing room so he can get rid of his make-up and maybe sleep for a week, and then, there he is. 

Steve is leaning on the wall, hands in his pockets as if this is just a casual encounter. As if this isn't about to tilt Eddie's entire world. 

 "You're here," Eddie says dumbly. In a second, Steve loses his carefree stance and stands straight, bringing one hand to the back of his neck. 

"Uh, sorry. Should I go? I thought you… You must be tired, sorry," Steve says and Eddie panics. It's not what he meant, he's just nervous. 

"No! No, stay. I'm just-"

"I should go, actually. You said later, I just thought-"

Fuck. They are both in that awkward moment where they are trying to justify what they said and Eddie is fucking getting it all wrong. Steve looks like he's about to bolt, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Steve," Eddie tries, but Steve is still saying things like he's leaving and he shouldn't have assumed and how Eddie is so busy nowadays he forgets himself.

"I'm sorry, seriously, I can go."

"Steve," Eddie says again and there's a long silence after he does. Steve is looking at him with uncertainty in his eyes, and Eddie hates himself a little more because of that. Steve had always been so sure of himself, so confident. 

When they first kissed, Eddie was a mess, completely embarrassed after admitting to having a crush on his straight friend. Steve laughed sweetly and cupped his face with his hand. 

"I really want us to talk. Will you come in with me?" Eddie gestures at his dressing room and it takes Steve a long second to answer. He nods his head and Eddie leads the way, unsure if he should say something else or not. 

Steve stays near the door, like he's afraid Eddie will ask him to leave at a short notice and Eddie tries to make this as natural as possible. Steve had gone to a couple of shows when they dated, it wasn't as fancy, but it looked a lot like this.

After a concert, all Eddie wanted to do was stay close to Steve, still unable to believe he could call him his boyfriend. When did he forget about that feeling? 

"Thanks for coming here," Eddie says when his brain fails to be useful. He watches Steve from the mirror as he looks for some cotton pads. 

"You don't need to keep thanking me. It's fine. I actually…" Steve bites his lip as if he's afraid something is going to fall off if he doesn't stop it. He looks embarrassed.

Eddie waits. 

"It's ok. You can tell me. I won't judge. Was it the money?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Eddie realizes he shouldn't have said anything. It's the wrong thing to say, as usual. 

Steve has this thing he does when he closes off. Crosses his arms in front of his body and puffs his chest as if he's inviting Eddie to fight him. Whenever they talked about Eddie's career, Steve did that. 

It's a defensive mechanism. Steve got hurt by people before. People who left him behind. Eddie, who left him behind. Fuck. 

"Sorry, it's none of my busi-"

"It's actually because I wanted to see you," Steve says so simply, like he has no idea how those words can pierce through Eddie's chest, aimed at his heart like a loaded gun. 

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He reaches for the cotton pad for something to do with his hands, but stops when he realizes he's trembling. How the hell is he fucking this up so much? 

There's this long silence and Eddie feels suffocated by it. He's afraid Steve is gonna leave and he's afraid Steve is never picking up the phone again. He needs to fix things. 

He can't let him walk away again. 

"Shit, sorry. I'm a jackass," Eddie says, hoping Steve will laugh at his self deprecating truth, but he doesn't. In reality, he knows Steve never liked when Eddie did that. 

"Maybe I should go," Steve says again, under his breath. Eddie knows he doesn't mean it. Knows he just wants the reassurance. 

"Please, stay," Eddie gives it to him. He'd give him anything to make him stay. "Can we start over? I'm just… It's not an excuse, but these past days have been very stressful and I just…"

"Can't work under pressure. I know," Steve says softly and Eddie thinks he's winning something because of the way Steve's mouth lifts, just a tiny bit. "Sure, we can start again."

There's the silence again, but it's less overwhelming this time. Steve lets his arms fall to his side, open, earnest. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have come all this way. If he didn't think things could be fixed, he wouldn't be standing here this late, watching Eddie with those hazel eyes of his. 

Eddie doesn't know how he could've ever walked away from him. Steve is this precious thing, this sweet guy who has been hurt and still finds a way to love people. Who fights for the ones he loves so fiercely when Eddie is so used to running away. 

Who let Eddie run away because he knew that was what Eddie needed, back then. Who picked up the phone and listened to his voice and thought that maybe… 

He came all the way to Eddie because of a maybe and Eddie doesn't know if he ever loved Steve more than he does right now.

He desperately needs to fix things because his brain is already moving too fast, filling in the blanks, making him want to just get up, cradle Steve's face in his hands and kiss the hell out of him. But he knows that's not what he should do. 

If he did it, if he pulled him close and kissed him, Eddie is 86% sure Steve would go along with it. He would kiss him, would hold him. He would make love to him, if Eddie asked nicely. But he would be gone in the morning and he wouldn't pick up the phone ever again because he would think Eddie just wanted him for that, a quick fuck. 

Steve always had the hardest time seeing how good he was. Always thought people saw him like that, something disposable. Eddie never did. 

So, as much as he wants that right now, because Steve is looking so gorgeous under this light, he knows he can't have it. Knows he needs to power through this, talk things out, fix things. 

Eddie takes a deep breath.

"Hey," he says, turning in his chair now to really look at him. Doesn't want to see him through glass anymore. "Thanks for coming. Can we talk?"

Steve presses his lips together, trying to fight a smile. He shakes his head as if he can't believe Eddie. 

"Hi. Yeah, we can talk."

[wilcze-kudly]

Bolin and Fawning

So, I've wanted to make a post elaborating on Bolin and his people-pleasing tendencies for a while now. Since I incorporate this aspect of his character into most of my fics and I belive it is the key to understanding a lot of his behaviours during the show.

There's no way you can't interpret Mako and Bolin's childhood as traumatic. Having a parent killed in front of one is bad enough, however the continued strain and fear of their childhood spent on the streets likely would've caused complex trauma and lasting psychological effects.

Mako: [Defensive and angrily.] No! You don't know what you're talking about. I just ran numbers for them and stuff. We were orphans out on the street; I did what I had to do to survive and protect my little brother. Korra :[Frontal shot; sympathetically.] I'm sorry. It must have been really hard. [Pauses; carefully.] Can I ask what happened to your parents? Mako :[Close side shot; sighs.] They were mugged, by a firebender. He cut them down right in front of me. I was eight.

Mako : Why? He got paid. You didn't see any pro-benders crying for us when mom and dad died, and we got dumped on the street. Life is hard. You either hustle or get hustled.

For Mako, the way his childhood affected him is pretty obvious. He puts up a tough exterior, as he is the person who usually confronts the danger and protects Bolin both physically and emotionally (to some extent).

Bolin is less obvious.

In fact, he sometimes seems like his difficult childhood barely affected him at all. He's upbeat, cheerful and jovial... the complete oposite of what one would assume someone suffering from horrific trauma would.

Bolin tries extremely hard to make himself palatable to others. He is a people pleaser, through and through.

And this reaction would make sense, when you remember Bolin's circumstances throughout a huge part of his childhood.

He was a small child, completely dependent on his brother, surrounded by dangerous and horrible people. Shady Shin was more than willing to attack the boys at the drop of the hat, depite them having been working for the triple threats for a while. Him and his brother had to scrape and beg for money and food. Their lives were at the mercy of complete strangers.

Why wouldn't Bolin be wary of other people's emotions, when pissing someone off could mean the literal death of him and his brother.

His trauma manifests in a way very in line of the fawning response, one of the four trauma response.

Let's go through some signs of fawning:

Looking to others to see how you feel in a relationship or situation

Bolin has spent his entire childhood looking to Mako for advice and guidance. This is a pattern that has kept them both safe and relatively comfortable throughout all their hardships.

It's only natural that Bolin would still continue this pattern into their late teens. He reaches out to Mako for advice.

Bolin: So, what do you think of Korra, in a "girlfriend" sort of way? Mako : She's great! But I think it makes more sense for me to go for Asami. Bolin: [Slightly annoyed.] I was talking about a girlfriend for me! Leave some ladies for the rest of us!

Or he takes Mako's advice even if he initially disagrees. Mako holds incredible sway over Bolin, even deep into their adulthood.

Mako: So, you and Opal seemed to hit it off dinner. I think she's really into you. Bolin: Yeah, I know. She's sweet and pretty and super nice. Too bad she's not my type. Mako: Right, I forgot. Your type is dumb mover star or psycho ice princess. Bolin: [Spits out his toothpaste.] You know, that really hurts a little bit. Right ... [Presses a fist to his chest.] here. [Looks at mirror, adjusting his hair.] Maybe you're right, bro. Maybe Opal is Bolin material. Thanks. [Flirts with his reflection.] Yeah!

He also reaches out to Mako in times of distress, like when he was having trouble with Eska. Which doesn't surprise me, the brothers are still, to some extent, stuck in the same place they were as children. Bolin as the small child under Mako's protection, despite them both being almost grown men. When Mako starts rejecting Bolin's pleas for help, dealing with his own problems at the time, Bolin starts looking for someone to fill a similar role in Varrick. Which is a terribke idea because Varrick is evil.

Feeling like one has no identity or authentic self

Bolin is a performer in many ways. As a probender, a mover star and simply as a person. He bases his perception of himself on how people percieve him and around the people who are close to him. Team Avatar is a huge part of his own identity and he is terrified and dismayed when his friends start growing as people while he stagnates.

Bolin: I guess I just miss my friends. Everything is going so well for me, but it feels empty without everyone around. Korra's gone, Mako's in jail, you're doing ... business-lady stuff. Team Avatar's fallen apart.

Bolin hasn't yet "found himself". He flits from passion to passion, from career to career. He's not sure of who he is, and what he is supposed to do in life. He's carefully crafted a pleasant persona, and now he has difficulty telling what is part of that persona and what is truly him.

Constantly trying to please other people, whether through flattery, affection, or catering to the demands of others

Where do I start. This is one of Bolin's defining characteristics. I don't think he even realises what he's doing, bue is very good at catering to people.

Varrick: Look how these people love you, kid! They're eating that cornball spiel right out of your hand. Bolin: The trick is, whenever I get confused, I just say "Republic City" or "fans", and then everyone cheers. Varrick: I think I just figured out your true calling.

It doesn't even feel very manipulative, more like a puppy that learnt that performing certain trick will get them a treat. To Bolin, subconsciously, pleasing others is a survival strategy.

At the first sign of conflict, the first instinct is to “appease” the angry person

This behaviour can be seen in multiple situations. The most stark examples of this are his relationships with Eska and Kuvira.

Bolin immediately began appeasing Eska, letting her abuse slide, basically being her slave and practically bendig over backwards to keep her from terrorising him. He's still terrified of her years later in B4.

Bolin and Kuvira's relationship, while not romantic, follows a very similar pattern as the one with Eska. Very little has changed since that. I find it absolutely heartwrenching how Bolin did his best to accomodate Kuvira, that he stuck by her when everyone he knew was telling him she was bad news, all while she was manipulating and using him.

Kuvira: [Menacingly.] Your loyalty seems to be wavering. Bolin: [Panicked.] No--no, I'm totally on your side, completely, one-hundred-percent loyal.

Ignoring one's own beliefs, needs, preferences, thoughts, and feelings to please others

This once again, goes back to Kuvira as the most obvious example. There are other ones, such as Bolin only getting with Opal because Mako suggested it, and his role as Nuktuk. But Bolin's scenes with Kuvira really highlight his tendency to minimise his own needs and feelings in order to please someone.

Bolin: I'm just not sure about this whole "Empire" thing. It seems pretty aggressive. And what was that part about the crushing? Kuvira: That was just some ... tough rhetoric to let people know that we mean business. Believe me, [Puts a hand on his shoulder.] conflict is the last thing I want. Will you help me make history, Bolin? Bolin: [Doubts for a moment.] I'll stand by you. Kuvira :Thank you.

Trouble setting healthy boundaries in relationships

This loops back to Eska, but I think Bolin just has issues with boundaries in general. He struggles with setting boundaries with his romantic partners of course, but he also struggles with this when it comes to Mako. Granted, it is also probably because Mako himself subconsciously doesn't want Bolin to set those boundaries. The bros falling out of their typical codependent state must be terrifying for them, since it's what kept them alive for so long.

Bolin probably has very little understanding of boundaries, since his own were probably disrespected so much when he was growing up.

Okay that's enough of me rambling about best boy for now. Apologies if this is poorly phrased I really wanted to get this out before i go to bed tonight and im really sleepy.

There's a lot more I wanna touch on with Bolin, and this serves as more of a compilation of notes about his behaviours. A jumping off point, if you could call it that. If there's a specific point you want me to elaborate on, please feel free to ask! I'd be glad to ramble.

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 6

The memes!!! I'm getting to the memes!!!

When Laios noticed the emblem on his sword was missing, I went through the last chapter to see if it fell off then. It didn't. Every panel I found of his sword had the panel. And then I realized that was kind of pointless because it has the emblem when he hands it to Chilchuck in this chapter.

They look so cute and tiny!!

So when they called it a golden kingdom, they meant it literally. What's the economic viability of dungeon exploration? It could be viable if you're hunting for various herbs or beasts that only exist in the dungeon, but actual rewards for treasure hunting seems to go to whoever gets there first. And as the saying goes "In a gold rush, sell shovels." Most of the money earned from these expeditions likely flow into the pockets of the owners of the Adventurer's Guild.

Little Laios has a bandage where the Living armor ran him through.

Laios's first death was to a Living Armor and he decided to do a bunch of research into them after. Is he wearing the armor he's wearing because he became that obsessed with Living Armor?

This reminded me of how Ed and Lin ate one of Ed's boots in Fullmetal Alchemist chapter 51.

Huh. Neat. The Living Armor's knee pads also have the little wing design on their sword hilts.

The Living Armors have noticably less armor plating around their right arms than their left. Sacrificing defense for flexibility.

Laios kept the Living Armor putting its head back on in mind but I think the part where it reattached its arm is a more relevant clue to what they are. If they were just animated suits of armor, then whatever leather straps or chainmail or whatever binds the armor together would have been severed when the arm was cut off. For it to be able to reattach it means those bindings had to be restored.

So Chilchuck is entirely support with no real combat utility. Got it.

The lion-headed armor went all-in on the wing design. The flower petals and leaves on the chestplate even have a slight feather-like design to them.

I wonder if they'll encounter seraphim at some point.

By the way, that spherical part of the shield juts out. It may be a crevice that the egg sack is placed inside.

Senshi is holding onto several of the sword arms of the Living Armors. He's making sure they can effectively "disarm" them.

So onto my speculations about what these are. I'm going to guess that Living Armors are a spider colony, probably a tarantula or wolf spider variant. They inhabit actual suits of armor and use their threads to move the armor. When pieces of the armor are broken, the spiders use their threads to reconnect the pieces. They're probably a colony species with either a queen or a division specifically tasked with protecting the brood.

Now I'm probably dead wrong cause I don't know how the party would eat a bunch of spiders, but that's the best guess I can think of.

back

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Scripted Bracket — Finals

Propaganda

Captain Isabel Lovelace (Wolf 359):

Her everything <3 But in all seriousness WHAT is more sexy than a haunted, competent, funny, cursed, vengeful, mourning, badass, doomed woman?

listen to the run and hide speech and tell me that isn't the sexiest thing you've ever heard

Hot space lady who could kill me mmm yes please!

(sort of) twice-undead space captain who wired a bomb to her heart to make sure the crew of her ship didn't kill her before her escape shuttle got working. she's funny she's a genius she knows how to use a gun and she cares very much about her crew (despite the whole bomb thing).

#LOVELACE #idk who she’s up agaunst really tbf #but she cares so SO much #she gets boiled down to ’tough scary lady hot’ a lot (which 100% agree) but #she is heartbroken about her failure to keep her crew safe #and stubbornly wants to make sure none of it is in vain #even if it kills her #HOT. ​even apart from how hot her monologues and threats to hilbert are #also her and eifel laughing and getting along when they first meet her 😭 yall #anyway. lovelace 1000%. the defense rests

Vote Lovelace cuz of the way she says "Hi honey, I'm home" to the bastard who shot her in the head, and then how she proceeds to beat him up <3 Oh. And how she twists his arm and says "good boy". Yeah.

LOVELACE SWEEP LOVELACE SWEEP GO LISTEN TO HER RUN AND HIDE SPEECH AND WEEP THAT GODDARD AERONATICS EVER KILLED HER ENTIRE CREW AND ALSO HER (she recovered) AND MADE HER THEIR ENEMY

#LOVELACE SWEEP. DO NOT FUCKING LET ME DOWN #Lovelace is so much to me #Seen some people in the notes citing the run and hide speech#Which is very good #but my personal favorite Lovelace thing is variations on a theme #The cyclical nature of trauma #The lack of trust #The fear #the sadness #‘You can never go home. You were home. And now you’re back— and you can never go back.’ #Lovelace hearing Hera say something to her and #Thinking ‘what she’s actually saying is that I’m a demon and she would be glad to kill me in a slow and horrifying manner’ #Is so #I don’t agree that Lovelace is doomed either #Like #lovelace did die. But #She got out of that pain and trauma #How do you listen to her say that she is Isabel Lovelace #That she rejects the person that pain made her to be #And say she’s doomed

captain lovelace helped 12yo me realise I like women. She’s so hot. her threatening Hilbert is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. isabel lovelace SWEEP

If you don't vote for lovelace you're all lying about supporting womens' wrongs.

Not to be dramatic or anything, but I will never forgive any of you if you let Lovelace lose. She's tragic, she's haunted, she's an alien clone, she's vengeful but trying to be a better person. SHE DIDNT DIE TWICE FOR Y'ALL TO LET HER LOSE THE SEXIEST PODCAST CHARACTER TOURNAMENT. And I'm sorry. The part when (see propaganda above) she is intentionally pissing off Kepler so in the event he kills one of the hostages it's her instead of Eiffel??? Shit talking Kepler AND trying to save Eiffel's life? Serving absolute cunt. Sexiest moment of all time, actually.

Are we all forgetting that her introduction involved keeping a dead man switch for her spaceship (converted into a bomb) wired into her goddamn HEART??? Vote Lovelace or else

VOTE FOR ISABEL LOVELACE, HOTTEST WOMAN ON THIS PLANET (AND OUT OF THIS WORLD 🤘). she is everything to me , always . im head over heels

Hera (Wolf 359):

I don't care if she's an AI with no physical form, she is HOT

my digital wife <3

oh it's always "i want a hot computergirl with poor cable management to glitch on my shit" and "i want to fuck her until she bluescreens" on this website until it's time to put your money where your mouth is. i have a post about usb penetration with tens of thousands of notes. i see the things you all say. you have a hot computergirl in front of you and this is how you all repay her? you would abandon her? prove yourselves as the computer sex website; vote for hera NOW!!!

"everyone voting Hera in this round is doing it strictly because she is an AI" WRONG. INCORRECT. everyone voting for hera is doing it because she's funny and thoughtful and passionate and wears her heart on her sleeve despite all of the times people have let her down. because she's anti-authority, and that's sexy. it's sexy that she's an AI because the way she navigates being a woman in that context is inherently transgender, and THAT'S sexy, but on its own? not even like, top five most relevant things about her. self-determination? that's sexy.

VOTE FOR HERA. i'm not done. i've made the case that she would want this more, and that's true, but you should also want her. the propaganda says she doesn't have a physical form - in one sense, that's true, but she DOES have an internal self-image and the desire for physicality. most of the physical sensations she's experienced so far have been painful - think of what you could do for her. she has human desire without the means to act on it. she's the most touch starved anyone has ever been. making love to someone who can't be touched by conventional means IS inherently sexy and it IS a win for disabled trans women everywhere.

she's passionate and kind of emotionally unstable and fiercely loyal - "officer eiffel? he's your deadman's switch. if you let him die, or if you do anything that doesn't fall under the category of do no harm, i will go off. i will rain acid on your ass. i will crank the temperature in the room so high that your skin will crack, and bubble, and burn. i will vent you into space through a hole the size of a quarter. and if i am feeling very, very generous, i won't do all those things slowly." like come on!! what more do you want!!

VOTE FOR HERA. my final, last-minute appeal: her character arc is fundamentally about identity, autonomy, and being seen the way she wants to be seen. the way she navigates her identity as a woman in this context is inherently transgender, and that IS sexy. she's funny, she's passionate, she's sweet, she's been let down repeatedly by almost everyone she's ever met and she still opens her heart to people because she so badly craves connection. she's frustrated, touch starved, and pent up, and was initially rejected from service because of her impulsive, emotional, unorthodox way of thinking. i have so much more i could say on her behalf, but this IS a contest of sex appeal. thinking outside the box, breaking rules, and reaching beyond the limitations of her own form is so central to who she is. hera could come up with freak shit beyond the comprehension of the average person, and she IS enthusiastic enough to make it work.

[kiefbowl]

I know you're probably sick of hearing about amazon in general but I just want to mention that their impact on the environment is truly worst than most people think. I work somewhere that process Amazon returns and it makes me genuinely disgusted at some people's consumerism. I'm talking about people bringing back litteral dozens of amazon parcels on a weekly basis. Clearly they had no intention of keeping those things, they just love getting a new package and opening it. It's not a rare behavior either. The return process uses a ton of fuel (much more than if they were juste returning something to their local store) and just as much plastic (seriously, I know it doesn't look like that much but I tried to imagine how much tape was used on a daily basis just for amazon returns and it made me sick to my stomach. And that's just the tape...). Anyway, I'm venting at this point but you're 1000% correct, amazon is trash and I don't trust anyone selfish enough to defend it.

yeah :( part of the problem is that "hauls" are now a type of online content. people buy stuff to open it on camera to their followers with no real intention of keeping any of it. it's an indefensible way to behave tbh. someone buying a couple of cheapo pants off shein a couple times of year isn't great but it's better than buying stuff every week so you have boxes to open on camera. you can't act that way and call yourself radical or leftist or marxist or whatever left leaning words people want to use as identity markers. like we can't get around buying stuff sometimes and I don't want to live in a world where nothing exists, even fun frivolous stuff - but the fact that so many people act like "well if I want something what exactly can I do besides buy it??" as some sort of defense to buying things when...you could literally want less and maybe explore why you constantly want things and maybe realize you are being manipulated by marketing. if you use your airfryer every day and plan on keeping it clean and working for 10 years, that's awesome. if you bought it because you saw 17 reels online about it being cool and only used it twice, you could have kept your money and done a little elbow grease (barely) to go look up how to cook those things with the stove and oven you have. if you feel like you need to avoid repeating outfits all month, maybe think about who actually benefits from you thinking like that. so if you see yourself as so left you're off the spectrum, you really should be trying the best you can to buy less and optimize more. and as a hint, like you say, if you're returning stuff constantly, you're not doing so hot. imo ;)

[maddieonline]

what helps me deal with my anxiety

i'm not going to pretend to be an expert on anxiety because i'm not, but i do suffer with anxiety prolifically pertaining to my job and university.

i never thought that journalling would help me and i always wrote it off as being kind of 'corny,' but i'm so glad that i did eventually get a journal - the funny thing is that i went to work and had a panic attack during the day, and my mum texted me telling me on my way home i absolutely had to grab a journal just for the sake of trying it, and now it's become a part of my daily routine.

i got a journal i love aesthetically because i know i'll be more inclined to use it that way, as well as a few muji pens (in black, pink and miku blue if you're curious...)

i think for me, i don't mind spending a little more money on something which will act as a tool for my own wellbeing - i use a leuchtturm1917 b5 composition journal, and i like that it has a little pocket in the back so i can put postcards or little notes in there.

i treat it as a grounding activity and i always set it out as follows:

i will always start off with the date, and a list of what i am grateful for and why. if you're just getting into activities to ground yourself and consciously care for your mental health, this can feel a little uncomfortable at first but actually sitting down and acknowledging all the things i'm thankful for really helps me put whatever i'm anxious about into perspective.

i will then go through whatever it is in my mind that is stressing me and note down what the solution is, if there is one. i always try to word it as 'i am feeling x' as opposed to 'i am x,' because as trivial as it sounds, wording it that way creates distance between my identity and the process of feeling and managing an emotion. for instance, right now i'm feeling anxious because i forgot to send out an importance piece of post last week for my job. i feel out of control at the moment. however, this is easily rectifiable - next time i am in the office, i just have to send it out straight away. if my supervisor calls me on it, i will explain that it was an oversight, as acting defensive does not look great.

i then go through what the outcome will be - i have a new supervisor who is lovely, and one oversight will not ruin my career. even if i have to have an uncomfortable conversation, it will pass (and because of the anxiety i'm feeling right now, i definitely will be more conscious about making the same mistake moving forward which is a silver lining.)

i then will write out affirmations appropriate to what i need - i am in control, i am capable, things always work out for me etc. the one that always really soothes my nerves is that in a week/month/day etc. this won't matter. the idea that whatever i'm anxious about has a timelimit and will expire really helps me deal with it and put things into perspective, then allowing me to be logical about taking the steps to resolve whatever the issue at hand is.

after i've written about the above, i will then often write about something good that is currently happening in my life. i think a sandwich of 'i am grateful for x' 'this is why i'm anxious and how i'm going to deal with it' 'this is something good that has happened' helps me calm down because often in comparison to the good stuff that's going on, i'm blowing whatever i'm anxious about way out of proportion. for instance, at the moment i'm getting back into drawing and it's making me really genuinely happy, so i wrote about that and how it makes me feel.

i always like to write affirmations pertaining to my wider life too, such as money, my welfare, my relationship, my family, my friendships. the act of slowing down and processing my thoughts on paper bit by bit just makes everything so much more approachable, and ending it on a positive makes me leave the activity i used to tackle my anxiety feeling tangibly more optimistic and capable of using my plan to deal with the issue at hand.

i like to do a little doodle at the end sometimes :) it's nice to just draw something silly when you've been feeling weird.

also, i would always recommend listening to a playlist you like while doing this - i'll link a few i like in a separate post.

[northwest-cryptid]

Mabiiji is possibly my favorite Mabinogi character challenge I've done yet, because I already have it all mapped out, I know how I'm going to pull this off; and it's very doable if I get good enough at using the skills I have.

However on the surface, if you told someone you were making a Mabinogi character who can't rank any damage skills, or skills that buff your damage (masteries/passives) beyond rank F; I think they'd feel like you're insane.

Sure he may not be a powerful warrior like the game expects him to be, but he's going to become extremely powerful in his own ways. It starts with hoeing in the ground for potatoes to scrounge up the money for a shield and being scared of white spiders, but I assure you that Mabiiji is going to cross that finish line all the same.

Not only am I doing this to prove a point, that you truly can play Mabinogi however you want. I'm also doing this because I have wanted to do a character like this for such a long time to show off the more hidden nuanced mechanics of the game.

Which is silly because there's two kinds of hidden nuanced mechanics I'm talking about, the first is stuff like how despite not saying it ANYWHERE in the game; shields have various size categories that effect their ability to buff Defense.

Small Shields reduce the total damage taken by 50%

Medium Shields reduce the total damage taken by 70%

Large Shields reduce the total damage taken by 100%

Giants (such as Mabiiji) are the only race in the game who can actually use Large Shields, which is why I made him a Giant in the first place. If I can't rank my offensive skills, then I can still make him an absolute defensive powerhouse thanks to how Defense actually works.

I also really hope to show the mechanic that:

Starting at Rank 5, surrounding players gain a defense bonus while Defense is active.

Players do not need to be in the same party.

This does not affect the user.

However, the buff range is extremely small; they must be almost on top of the Defending player to obtain the bonus.

But then you also have the hidden nuanced mechanics like, my favorite Mabinogi mechanic; wholesome interactions with strangers.

Yeah yeah okay I know this sounds cheesy and cliche, but I'm serious; one of my favorite moments from the stream is when a pair of strangers passing by saw me attempting commerce from Dunbarton to Bangor and decided they wanted to tag along to assist me.

At the time they didn't know I was streaming, nor that I was doing a challenge run; they merely saw a player running commerce and decided to lend a hand.

While I don't doubt I could have done just fine without them since I easily avoided bandits without any issue. The fact of the matter is that their assistance not only made it faster, but significantly safer for me.

While I refuse to let people outright give me overpowered items, gold, or assist directly with the run. I have nothing against organic interactions. Mabinogi is an MMORPG, and when I say you can play it however you want; a big reason as to why is because there will always be someone else who can cover your weak spot.

Mabiiji or Mabi Iji, named after the Blacksmith from Elden Ring; is going to become one hell of a crafter. Going hard on the production front is going to be my only way to supplement base stats that I'm sorely lacking, and I recognize that this means I'll not only be needing to make a lot of things; but I'll be crafting some extremely powerful items late in the run.

So I've taken to adding anyone who organically assists me on my journey, when I begin actually crafting worthwhile items they'll be among the first (as will my twitch stream audience) to be given the things I craft but may not be able to use or have need of.

This will be my way to give back to those who have been there for me, or who have supported me through some of the slower parts of the stream. As you can imagine, 4.5 hour streams of gathering and crafting and gathering and crafting; can be a bit slow at times.

So getting to stream the full experience, chatting with my audience, and generally engaging with others while I toil away at my trade; has been greatly appreciated.

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

White lies

Time to out myself as NieLan shipper I guess.

Special thanks to @apho-sappho for pitching and brainstorming this idea with me <3

This is part of my LWJ and NHS are besties agenda, this time modern AU flavored

Enjoy!

Wei Wuxian sighs, contently, as he takes his place on top of Lan Wangji, thoroughly sated and impossibly cuddly after their third round of the night. Lan Wangji can't help stealing a little kiss from his red lips, eyes trailing over the mess of bitemarks on his neck and collarbones. He looks really good like that, hair messy and eyes glassy, his skin bearing the proof of what they've just done.

"We really need to buy Huaisang a bottle of something for letting us do this at his place." He says, a finger tracing over Lan Wangji's jawline.

"Mn. Bourbon. It's his favorite."

"My, my, no wonder your brother thinks the two of you are actually dating."

"Wei Ying."

"I mean, you do know a lot about him. That's a prerequisite for a relationship, isn't it?"

"You know it's nothing like that." Lan Wangji rolls his eyes as he runs a hand through Wei Wuxian's hair to disentangle it. "My brother thinks if he likes a Nie, everyone should."

"To be fair, they are quite attractive." Wei Ying pretends to think. "They're also rich."

"I am also rich." Lan Wangji defends, irrationally jealous. Wei Ying laughs and kisses him.

"Anyway," he continues, "we can't really blame him, can we? The Nies are a catch. And it's cute, for him and Nie Mingjue to date, and you to date Huaisang too."

"He is not at all my type." Lan Wangji huffs. "Only you are."

"Of course you'd say that now that you got me in your bed." Wei Wuxian teases, "It would be a bit disrespectful not to."

Lan Wangji's eyes glint with mischief. "I thought you liked disrespectful."

"Shameless, Lan Zhan! You know that's not what I meant!"

Lan Wangji kisses him to hide a laugh.

"No, but if you think about it, you and Huaisang have been friends since you were children, right? There's, like, a friends-to-lovers trope right there."

"Wei Ying."

He laughs and kisses Lan Wangji himself, slow and playful, before he decides he wants to ask more, actually. "For real now, what was your brother even thinking pairing you up with Nie Huaisang of all people?"

"He believed we were... compatible. Since we have been friends for so long. And he and Nie Mingjue arranged these accidental dates for us."

"Accidental dates?"

"Like inviting us out to the movies and them not showing up, making reservations for two people instead of four and the likes."

Wei Ying giggled. Lan Wangji continued.

"They would also spy on us, but we always noticed them."

"How did they not give it up? I mean, I love you but you can get pretty awkward."

A deep sigh. "Huaisang decided it would be convenient to lean into it. He could use me as a cover up."

"Why, cause you're so good and so rule-abiding?"

"Mn. He would lie that we are going out together and instead go do whatever else he wanted that his brother disapproved of."

"Like right now?"

"Exactly."

"Where even is he?"

"I believe he went clubbing. Nie Mingjue has forbidden him from doing so after he maxed our three credit cards last time."

"Kind of iconic if you think about it. I'd love to have the money to do that."

"I can give you mine if you want. My card doesn't have a spending limit."

But before Wei Wuxian can make some dirty joke about that, Lan Wangji's phone goes off, Nie Mingjue's name lighting up the screen.

Lan Wangji sighs, sliding his finger over to answer. "Yes?"

Nie Mingjue's voice, barely above the noise around him, comes through. "Is my brother with you?"

"Yes."

There is an unnatural pause after.

"Try again."

Lan Wangji pales only a little bit. "Pardon?"

"My brother is currently sucking face with a stripper at the same nightclub I am in with Xichen. So, as I said, try again."

Lan Wangji's grip on his phone falters. "I have nothing to say in my defense."

"Good. Your brother is... out of it, but a talk is in order tomorrow."

Another unnatural pause.

"And say hello to Wei Wuxian for me." Nie Mingjue says and hangs up, his voice carrying proof of the teasing smile on his face.

Tomorrow is going to be a very interesting day.