#maybe in like ten years after i get a stable job

[garciasgirl]

Secret Sunshine: Part 2 | Spencer Reid x Reader ⋆˚࿔

genre: yeah..fluff again!!!

summary: spencer and reader leave the bar together. originally the plan was just to drive reader home…but, that doesn’t end up happening !!

content: sunshine!reader, protective!spencer, very minimal swearing..like one swear word, reader lives in less than desirable conditions, spencer does not like that, reader is a people pleaser if you squint hard enough, super cute, use of nicknames, kissing, part 2!!

notes: part 2!!! thank you all so much for the love on secret sunshine :(( this is my first time writing a fic and im so happy yall enjoyed it!! I hope you cuties love part 2 just as much as I do <33

word count: 1.6k

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spencer’s hand in yours felt like heaven. truly. and now, you were in his car and he was driving you to your apartment. your hands still interlocked, his resting on top yours. The intertwined hands resting on your thigh. for a moment, you questioned if you were moving too fast. Sure, it’s been ten years. but also, spencer was always apart of your life, whether he was physically there or not. your eyes were glued to him, deep with admiration, as your glance slowly moved over the sharp curve of his face.

a ghost of a smile rested on spencer’s lips, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced over at you, your eyes locking. he turned his focus back to the road, one hand on the steering wheel while the other lazily rested on your outer thigh, with your much smaller hand curled into his. you noticed a familiar street, “oh, turn here please..” you said softly, in which spencer did. you were thankful that he was driving you home, he insisted. you weren’t drunk, maybe a bit tipsy. It was a sweet gesture, but you were afraid. afraid of him seeing your apartment. it wasn’t the most glamorous. you had your dream job, and you loved it, but it didn’t make nearly enough money. you lived in a small room that you rented out from some guy. he’s an ass, but at least you have a room. you couldn’t pay for a good room, so, yours was quite dingy. the windows had small cracks throughout, the walls were not stable, and worst of all, absolutely no heat. you suffered each night, especially all cold winter nights like tonight. the only solution was bundling up and having massive amounts of blankets.

after being stuck in your thoughts for a while, you drift back to reality. where you notice that you have arrived at your apartment. “thank you, spencer, for driving me home.” you say kindly, turning to him. “im so glad I finally saw you again, you were gone for too long..” a smile slowly creeps up on his face, “it has, sunshine. I missed you.” His voice is so low, it’s like you can feel it radiating inside your chest. you laughed softly, looking down, “I missed you so much more, you have no idea..” you smile, looking back at him. You meet his gaze, his eyes trained on you. He doesn’t say anything, just simply looks at you. you bite your lip nervously, your arm resting on armrest, your body leaned in slightly, closer to him. he reaches up, brushing your bottom lip, making your teeth release it. he shakes his head slightly, his hand lingering under your lip. “don’t do that..” he mumbles, his voice all gravely and low.

your eyes widen slightly at the sudden and intimate touch, which amuses spencer, delight swirling in his eyes. he points his head towards your room, “let me walk you to your room?” he asks, unbuckling his seatbelt, then leaning over to unubuckle yours. Internally, you sigh. You knew he was going to ask, but you really didn’t want him to see your apartment, it was humiliating. Regardless of your feelings and anxiety, you hum softly in agreement. It takes about seven seconds to get to the door, you pull out your keys, unlocking the door. A rush of cold comes out of your room, you shiver at the feeling. Spencer notices the cold, he also notices your rundown room. his hand finds its way on the side of the doorway, his head peaks in.

“y/n, why is your room like this?” He looks down at you. he wasn’t judging, he was worried. his tone and his eyes showed that. His eyes squinted together, and left hand pushed through his hair, in a stressed manner. you shrug, pathetically. “all I can afford, you know?” he sputters, “no, y/n, I don’t know.. why? why would you stay here..” you go to answer but he continues, “I understand not having money for a luxurious apartment, but god, sunshine, it’s freezing in here, and, what about electricity?” you shake your head, you also didn’t have any of that. he sighs, rubbing his jaw a bit harshly. you curl into yourself slightly, “are you..mad? Im sorry..” his eyes widen slightly and he shakes his head, a gentle hand coming to caress the side of your face. “Mad? Sunshine, no, or course not. You didn’t do anything wrong..you just deserve so much better.”

Spencer is still looking at the room, noticing everything wrong with it. this is what worried you, you didn’t like being judged and you were afraid he was. when you looked at Spencer’s face is seemed like there was a hint of sadness in his eyes, he scanned the room, his heart breaking more and more each second. “im sorry you have to see this..” you mutter, looking down at your feet. He shakes his head, his fingers coming underneath your chin, so that you were looking in his eyes. however your glance drifted away every now and then. He turned your face more so that you were looking at him. “hey..sweet girl, look at me.” you do, not because you want to, but his voice was firm enough to make you. his eyes soften, he looks almost desperate. “you have nothing to apologize for, okay? I just want you to be safe, happy, and comfortable. you deserve that.” his words melt you into a puddle, you swear you feel the tears gather in your eyes but you blink them away. the saddened look on your face drives Spencer crazy. he would do anything and everything to make sure you never felt sad or alone ever again. and he will do everything in his power to make it happen.

At that, he grabs your hand, bringing you back to his car, you don’t even register anything until a few seconds later. “huh, spencer? where are we going..” he open the passenger door, and you reluctantly sit inside, he buckles the seat for you. “My apartment.” He responds, in the most casual tone you have ever heard from him. After he gets in the car after you, you furrow your eyebrows “your apartment?” He nods, “you’re insane if you think im letting you freeze in that room.” He says, his voice completely serious. A tone that leaves no room for argument. A couple minutes later, the two of you arrive at Spencer’s apartment. Spencer has lived what? No more than seven minutes from you all this time, and you never knew. Spencer grabs your hand lightly when you both get out of the car, and he doesn’t let go until the both of you are in his apartment. He kicks off his shoes, you mirror him.

you look around his apartment, it’s very cozy, the curtains are shut, and there are some lamps on for light. It’s warm, and it smells nice, like Spencer. A combination of fresh laundry, old books, and a light touch of bergamot and lavender. It was intoxicating. Spencer looked down at you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He bends down, meeting your height. “Go take a shower, love, you’re freezing.” Love, well that was a new one..and it made your brain spin. “Um…I don’t have any clothes?” You responded, it was true, you had nothing to change into. “You can pick out something from my closet, don’t worry.” So you did, a t-shirt that was way too big on you and sweatpants that were even bigger. After fifteen minutes you came out of the shower, dressed in Spencer’s clothes and drying you wet hair. He looked up from his bed, a grin settling on his lips. “you look beautiful.” blush creeped up from your neck to your face. you laughed “thank you, spence, but I don’t look my best right now..” he shrugs “it doesn’t matter, you’re always beautiful.”

it was just a small compliment, and yet, you found your breath getting stuck in your chest. your heart started to race and your breathing changed, it was quicker. a light smirk twisted its way on to Spencer’s lips. He stood, walking towards you, towering over you. He leaned down, his mouth meeting the side of your ear “I love making you blush..” you gasp softly. Spencer pulls his face back, so that his face is right in front of yours, he stares at you, he looks like he’s debating something. And then, his lips catch yours in a gentle kiss. His lips pressed softly against yours, as he holds your face in his hands. You melt into him, your arms wrapping loosely around his neck. you pull away from the kiss, your faces still close together. Spencer’s hands trail down to your waist and they rest there. smiles and light kisses happen over and over.

your hands intertwined in Spencer’s hair make him even more desperate to kiss you. He ducks back down, catching your lips in another kiss. This time; he’s more firm, his lips moving more passionately. He’s desperate for your touch. His warm hands roamed up and down your sides, sending shivers down your spine. his kiss was breathtaking. In that moment, Spencer decided he didn’t need anything else. Everything could be taken away from his but as long as he had you, he was set. In that moment, you decided you were now a lover of the mint flavor. Considering Spencer’s mint toothpaste was all you could, and it flooded your mind and made your knees weaken.

for the rest of the night, you spend it in spencer’s bed, his arms wrapped around you and your head tucked into his chest. as the night goes on, you fall asleep, spencer tracing feather light patterns on your arm, his other hand in your hair, playing with it softly. his touch and presence alone relaxes you, so much that it puts you to sleep. you don’t understand how the universe led him back to you, all you know is that you are so very grateful it did.

[sail-us-downtheriver]

my partner often asks me if i want kids in the future (but i'm afraid to turn into the people my parents were)

they're a youngest child, wild and free and face always stretched into a smile, easy to get along with and easy to hang around with. when they got old enough to babysit, they did constantly, and it's clear, from the they fooled around with a mutual friend's siblings that they love children.

they will be a wonderful parent. i know they will, from the way they encouraged and motivated our friends, from the way they can make every small chore fun, from the way they approached each person with kindess and open-mindedness. they will be a wonderful parent, but what about me?

my parents have done things i wish to forget. and though i try, no matter what i do, they will remain a part of me, etched into my very being. what happens when i unconsciously subject our child to those same words, to those same cold eyes and harsh hands? i know i have raised my voice, held biases and disgusting prejudices, looked down at people i deemed different from me. i have turned anger into an excuse and with held love for no reason at all. if i cannot control those things now, can i do so in the future? can i truly love a child? do i have the ability to take care of a child (when my cactus has once died of dehydration)?

so i laugh and tell them, 'a child? in this economy?' and hope they don't bring up the topic again. because how could i begin to explain how it would destroy me, if one day, our child would avoid my gaze and flinch at the sound of my footsteps?

[milfsdoll]

Good luck, babe.

Writer!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Twelve years later, a package is sent to your home, the latest book from your ex secret lover. The gesture turns your whole life upside down, a harsh wave of your old feelings and memories dragging you towards her again.

Warnings: +18, angst, internal homophobia, mentions of Steve, Agatha and reader are both in their thirties, smut, finger and oral sex, reader receiving, praise kink, soft sex.

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this one and I may have dropped a tear or two, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did<3 sorry if there are any mistakes, English is not my language.

Tag list: @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @yamysunmoon thank you loves <3

Masterlist

“I love my life”

You kept repeating that sentence over and over again, standing before the bathroom mirror, hands resting on the sink, head hung low. Trying to ease your shaky breath, trying to stop the tears that threaded to spill from your closed lids.

“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life”

With a deep breath you looked up to your reflection, your face reflecting anything but exhaustion and sadness, your mascara ruined from the tears that escaped.

“I fucking love my life”

And you did… right? You had to. 

You had everything you have ever wanted, everything you dreamt of when you were a kid. A good and stable job, a beautiful home to enjoy and take care of and… you had a husband. A perfect, nice, handsome husband.

Then why the fuck did you feel this way? So empty, like you were falling down a pit of darkness, like you had this hollow hole in your heart, every day getting bigger, keeping you from doing normal life things. You had to pull every strength from you just to get up from bed in the morning and go to work. You been feeling like this for years now, but lately… after seeing her on the news again…

Seeing her on tv, being interviewed for her new book, one that you had at home, hidden in the closet, ready to be read. One that she sent you directly with a personal autograph for some fucking sick reason.

No, no, this wasn’t because of her, it couldn’t be, it’s been… what? Twelve years? This was not because of her, no way.

You stared at your left hand, slightly shaking, you inspected your wedding ring, your beautiful, shiny, wedding ring, it should bring you joy, make you feel free, happy. But it only made you nauseous, feeling like you were tied down for life.

Only if you… could… slowly you brought your right hand to the ring, pulling it up from your finger, your mind screaming at you, telling you what a terrible idea this was, your breath hitched, suddenly feeling lighter when it fully came off, like all your burden disappeared in that moment. You wiggled your fingers little bit, bringing your hand up in front of the mirror, you could see the tan mark from the metal, you haven’t taken it off in the whole ten years you’ve been married, and it felt… good. 

You felt fucking good without it.

“No” you whispered, shaking those thoughts from your head and deciding to put the ring back on, but when you were lifting your right hand the ring fell from your hold “fuck!” You hissed trying to catch it as it bounced in the sink “fuck, no, come here” you whined as it slipped again, going directly into the drain “no, shit!” You smashed the marble, cursing your fucking office for not having a proper working sink “what the fuck!?” You groaned, hiding you face in your hands in frustration.

Why the hell did you even have to take it off? It was stupid! Why did you take. it. off?!

“Ok… it’s ok, calm down” you whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before splashing some water in your face and redoing your make up “it’s alright, he won’t notice, and you’ll go buy a new, exact one, before he does” you tried to calm yourself down, and you were sure if anyone came near the bathroom door and heard you they’d think you have gone crazy, and maybe you have.

And just like that you continued with your day, putting on a good face and getting through your schedule. Going to meetings, getting some paperwork done and going for a drink after with your best friend, and Steve wasn’t going to be home for at least a few more days, so that gave you advantage to get a new ring.

When you finished at work you bid your goodbyes to your coworkers and almost flew to your car in the parking lot, you needed those drinks with Wanda so fucking bad.

As soon as you parked your car you made your way to the bar. You waved at the waitress as you entered before turning around to see Wanda standing up from her seat “oh my god, hi” you instantly sighed in relief as you hugged her, giving her a big squeeze before pulling away and sitting in your usual booth.

“Rough day, huh?” She chuckled at your tired face.

“Week” you corrected her with a huff, hearing her chuckle again. She knew something was off when you called her for an urgent girls night.

You ordered your usual drink, Wanda and you catching up from the two weeks you’ve been apart, when she suddenly saw you naked hand when you went to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Sweetheart?” She asked, her demeanor getting serious now, her head tilting in her famous way.

“Hm?”

“Where is your ring?”

Well, fuck.

You let out a heavy sigh and rested your hand on the table, glancing it for a second before your head turned up to your friend, her face in a worried expression “did something happed with Steve?”

“No, non of that” you shook your head, you marriage was still the same old boring story.

Your face cringed for a moment “but I might have dropped the ring in the damn sink this morning” you winced at the memory, your eyes closing, not wanting to see the disappointed face in the redhead’s face.

But all you heard was laugher, furrowing your eyebrows you looked up at her, watching as she clutched her stomach from laughing “it’s not funny! It fell so fucking dramatically for some reason, I had a really stressful moment there!” You scoffed incredulously at her, the woman laughing even harder at your words.

You started chuckling with her, your hand going to your mouth, actually feeling bad about the whole situation, but it was hilarious really.

“Oh my god” Wanda said breathless, trying to calm down as she wiped her tears away “please tell me if was an accident” she said before taking a deep breath and looking at you.

“Of course it was! What do you take me for?” 

Was it?

“Well… I know things with Steve have been a little tense after he saw the book, so I don’t know, just making sure”

You sighed and took a sip from your drink, contemplating if telling Wanda the truth was a good idea, you knew she wouldn’t judge you, but you didn’t want to bring anymore attention to the topic, and you didn’t want to feel more confused than you were feeling already. So you kept silent.

“By the way… have you read her book, already?” 

“Oh no, and I don’t plan on reading it, honestly”

Wanda cleared there throat, getting visibly uncomfortable all of the sudden “what?” you asked her, sensing her nerves flooding around her.

“You should read it” she sighed, and the pity look she gave you… you didn’t like that look at all.

“Why?” Your voice sounded rough, your eyes glaring at the woman.

“It’s just- I don’t- just read it, alright? You really should…”

Ok now you were the one who was nervous, what the fuck did that woman write about? I mean, the note she left on your book…

This one is for you… good luck, babe.

Those words haunted you at night.

“Wanda…” you were starting to get a really uneasy feeling here “did Agatha write about me?”

Wanda instantly held your hands in hers “I’m so sorry” she said squeezing your hands, but you quickly retreated them, flinching from it like her hold was fire. You stared at her, shock all over your features.

She wouldn’t be capable, right? She did not write about you, maybe Wanda mistook it, maybe the book was about someone else. Agatha wasn’t that cruel to write about you. After all these years, you thought she even forgot about you, your past together. But you did hurt her. You broke her heart. Fuck.

“I-I’m sorry Wands, I have to go”

Without another word you left the bar, not even hearing your friend begging you to stay behind you. Your heart and mind raced, every memory, every feeling, every bit of your past with Agatha starting to flood out. How could she write about such thing? Knowing you had a husband, a life, a reputation. What if people found out it was about you? It could ruin your whole life!

Not noticing how or when, you found yourself parked outside of your place, rushing out of your car you made your way inside, running upstairs, into your bedroom. Flicking the light on, you entered your walk in closet, bringing the chair you had in the corner to the shelves. After taking your heels off you got on it, searching for the book in the back of your closet, whining when you didn’t find it “where the fuck are you?” You got on the arm of the chair, throwing all your purses off the shelve when you saw it pressed against the wall “there you are, fucker” you said under your breath, grabbing the book and getting off the chair.

You instantly sat on it with a huff, not even bothering to take off your suit. You took a deep breath and opened the book, scoffing as you saw the autograph again.

The hours passed and you still were reading the book, your eyebrows formed in a deep frown as you did, not believing your own eyes. And when you flipped the last page, you stared at the last words, suddenly feeling how hard it was to breathe, unbuttoning your blouse at the top.

You felt like you were suffocating, having just read you entire fucking college life in a book. Your hands trembled, tears running down your cheeks as you got up, the book still in your hand. You stared at it for a minute, trying to process everything you just read, did she really see you this way? So selfish, so heartless, so cruel.

You were not that way, you had to leave her, for your own good, for your future. You could not be that way, you could not be like her, you just couldn’t, your parents… they would have disowned you, hated you even, she knew that. Why the fuck did she write you this way? Like you were the fucking villain?

Anger filled your body and mind in a second, letting out a broken scream as you threw the book across the room, and then a rush of sadness waved into you, your knees gave out on you, collapsing in the floor, sobbing heavily into your hands as you tried to grasp everything around your head.

How could she do this to you?

She exposed your whole life just like that, like you were nothing but a mere inspiration to get money and fame. And she had the balls to send you a personal copy, like she was making fun of you in the process.

After you got out every emotion from your system you got up and went to wash your face and change into your sleeping clothes. You went to bed, but not before taking some sleeping pills, you knew there was no other way you could rest if it wasn’t with them, as much as you hated them.

“Hey there, doll”

You heard a familiar voice behind you, and without even turning around you chuckled, still a little dizzy from the drinks you’ve taken “hi Aggie”

The brunette girl sat by your side at the stairs, comfortable silence grew between the two of you, the only sound coming from inside of the house, the frat party in it’s peak. You both contemplated the starts on the dark sky for a while, until you broke the silence “it’s beautiful tonight” you whispered without taking your eyes off the atmosphere.

“It is” Agatha agreed with you, but she had her eyes on your side profile, admiring your soft features, how your lips curled into a smile and your eyes glowed before you turned your head to her “come with me” she said standing up from the stairs, her hands reaching for you to take.

“Where to?”

“Don’t you trust me?” She winked at you, causing you to giggle and grab her hand, of course you trusted her, always.

She guided you through the backyard into a forest you didn’t even know there was “Aggs, where are we going?” You asked her nervously, you weren’t a big fan of being in a forest in the middle of the night, so you glued yourself to the slightly taller girl, your arm grabbing hers a little too tight, but she didn’t mind at all.

“It’s ok, we’re not far” she hummed as she kissed your temple and held you close to her in a protective way.

Not even a minute after you arrived into a large plain land, only a big tree in the middle “wow” you looked around, it looked gorgeous, seeing different types of flowers around the area “how did you find this?”

“I come here for my witchery rituals”

You scoffed and turned to her, finding her with a teasing smile and a raised eyebrow “yeah, great joke” you rolled your eyes at her.

“You know I like to take walks, one day I kind of got lost and ended here somehow” Agatha chuckled at the memory, taking your hand in hers again and guiding you to the big tree.

She sat under it, tapping her lap you sat down next to her and laid you head on her lap. You sighed and closed your eyes as she began to stroke your hair, you always felt at peace when she was around. Everyone said she was mean and too sarcastic but you never thought that was true, she wasn’t like that with you at least. And you liked her sarcasm. 

“Can I ask you something, pet?” Agatha asked you interrupting your thoughts, you looked up at her and nodded, waiting for her to continue “What will happen to us after finishing college?”

Not this again… you sighed and sat up from her lap, not noticing the pained features from your… friend as you did so “Agatha we talked about this”

“I know but… this is real, what we have, what I feel for you it’s very real” she felt like she was begging for you, and she fucking hated that, she has never, ever, had to beg for anyone.

“Agatha…” you huffed and stood up from the grass, your hands rubbing your face in frustration “since the beginning I told you this was only a fling ok? And you agreed. If my-“ you winced at the thought ��if my parents find out… it would be the end of me, they expect me to get married to the perfect man-“

“Steve” it was Agatha’s turn to huff in frustration, the name leaving her lips in a despite tone. She stood up and turned you around, her hands resting on your cheeks “you really think he’s gonna make you happy?”

You didn’t answer her right away, both of you knowing too well what the truth was “that doesn’t matter” you whispered and took her hands off your face.

“It does! It does matter” she grabbed your face again in determination, her forehead resting against yours “the only thing that matters is you here, not them, not whatever they want for you, only what you want”

You looked into her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay from your own, your breath hitching as you felt hers lips ghost over yours “Aggie…” your voice sounded pained, but before you could say anything else she smashed her lips against yours.

The kiss was harsh at first, Agatha took all her frustration into it, her tongue intruding you mouth, making you moan in surprise at her demeanor. One of her hands snook itself on your waist, pulling your body flush against her. Your hands caressing the back of her neck made her pull away “I’m sorry” she whispered before kissing you again, softer this time.

She knew this was probably going to be the last time she had you like this, and she wanted to savor it, she wanted to make you never forget about it, about her.

Because she was never going to forget about you.

Your tongues swirled together, her hand on your waist gripping you tightly, afraid you were going to pull away at any time, she could feel your tears damping her cheeks, your hearts heavily beating against your ribcages.

And when you pulled away to breath you saw the pain in Agatha’s gaze. You took a step back, putting some distance between you, knowing you would fall for it if she tried to kiss you again.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not-“

“You are not what, huh?”

The blue eyed girl looked at you, her expression changing completely, clenching her jaw as she started at you in challenge.

“I’m not like this… I’m not like you”

“Bullshit! You’re only lying to yourself here”

You shook your head, more tears running down your cheeks “please don’t do this” you let out a broken sob.

“Don’t do what!? Are you kidding me? After being your fucking little secret for two years you have the balls to tell me you’re not like me? What the fuck am I, huh?” You could hear the hurt in her voice, the betrayal, and it only made you sob harder into your hands, this was the last thing you wanted to happen “I hate you”

You woke up with a gasp, immediately sitting up on the bed, your hands going to your heavily beating chest. You tried to ease your breath, wiping a tear that escaped from your eye “it’s alright, it was just a dream” you said to yourself, taking deep breaths as you walked to the bathroom. But it was not just a dream. It was exactly what happened the last time you spoke to Agatha.

You got into the shower, the warm water calming you down instantly. Replaying the scene in your head you slid yourself down the shower wall, hiding your head between your knees. You did her so dirty, you betrayed her, you played with her. You really didn’t mean to, you were a young girl, you wanted to have fun, to feel free before being tied down into the life you were living now.

But you fell deeply for her.

And you didn’t think of the consequences, you were selfish. And god… you were like her, you are and you will always be. You’ve never liked boys, every time Steve touched you it was like fire, you wanted to get away from it as far as possible. His kisses… it were nothing like Agatha’s, her lips here so soft, she tasted so sweet, and her touch, she was so careful with you, so fucking soft, and Steve… he was so rough, so cold doing it, and his beard, the way it scratched your face, you fucking hated it.

“Fuck” you sobbed heavily, your arms hugging your legs to your chest. You fucked up, and only because you wanted to make your parents proud of you, they had your life planned since you were a baby, and you didn’t want to let them down.

But you let yourself down in the process.

You lost yourself.

Maybe you could get your happiness back. You were so tired of living this miserable life, next to a man you didn’t love, in this house you barely could call home, you felt so out of place. But it wasn’t late to redo your story. To make things right, for you.

You could start by talking with Steve, asking for a divorce. And… talk to Agatha, apologize to her.

And you did that, you talked to Steve that very night he arrived home from his trip. It wasn’t easy, and you didn’t tell him the Agatha part of course. You knew he suspected something, but he understood without asking too much and you ended things peacefully.

The next day you saw Agatha was having a book signing event, so you decided to pay her a visit.

You decided to wear something casual but elegant, unconsciously wanting to impress the woman. You threw on some black pants and a purple knit sweater off the shoulder, finishing it with a basic black heels. Looking at the mirror you took a deep breath and straightened your top “ok, you got this” 

As you entered the bookstore the anxiety increased inside of you, clutching the book to your chest for some support. You walked around the place searching for her, and then you saw her, stopping on your tracks, your heart skipping a beat as you watched her seated at a table, signing a book while she talked to the overly excited woman before her.

Fuck, she looked even better than on the tv, she looked fucking gorgeous, her brunette hair in it’s wavy and chaotic nature. Your fingers flinched around the book, remembering how soft it felt around them, how she loved when you caressed it while you both laid on the bed, studying or talking about some random thing.

Jesus, focus.

You didn’t even know if she was still single, probably not, and it was ok. You only came here to talk to her and apologize… right?

After 10 minutes of waiting in line it was finally your turn, feeling your heart in your throat you took a step toward her, laying the book in front of her with your shaky hands, her eyes busy reading a paper next to her “do you want some personal-“ she froze mid sentence, shocked when she saw the autograph in your book.

She slowly looked up at you, and when your eyes met it was like the world stopped in the act, only the two of you existed. Agatha stood up from the chair, rounding the table while she never took her eyes off you. When she stood before you her hand tried to reach your cheek but she hesitantly retreated it to her side “is it really you?” She asked you, her eyes scanning your face for reassurance.

“In flesh and blood”

Agatha suddenly grabbed your hand, she whispered something to a woman next to the table before she guided you somewhere to the back of the bookstore. When she pulled you into a room she locked it before she turned to you “I never thought I’d see you again” she said in disbelief, taking a step towards you.

You didn’t hesitate for a second, needing to feel her against you after all this time, your arms wrapped around her “I’m so sorry Agatha” you whispered against her shoulder.

Agatha immediately accepted your hug, sighing into your hair as she squeezed your frame softly. You felt so good, you still smelt so sweetly, so addicting. She relaxed into your arms, feeling your hands rubbing her spine.

She missed you so much.

But… you hurt her. She pulled away, her eyebrows curling into frown “what are you doing here?” Her voice cold all of the sudden, like she was shielding herself from you.

“Agatha…” you tried to get closer again but she took a step back, her features turning in a warning “I came here to apologize. I read your book and… even though it really hurt me I realized how bad I hurt you too in the past” You never left her eyes, trying to tell her with your own you were being sincere “I’m sorry…”

The woman stared at you for a minute, studying you, before she briefly nodded “it’s ok, I apologize too for the things I said in the book”

“You treated me like a villain”

“Well you treated me like trash, so I think we’re even”

You pursed your lips, nodding your head as you started to pace around the room, only realizing it was an office “I know, I was a fool, a stupid girl who only wanted the approbation of my parents. I only wanted wanted to make their dreams come true, not even realizing my dream was… you” the last word escaped your lips in a whisper, the shock of your own confession rooting you on the spot.

Agatha’s mouth fell agape, sucking in a sharp breath, the last thing she expected today was this. To finally see and hear you opening your heart to her, and to yourself.

You turned around to her, seeing her hands clutch her chest, her soft lips slowly curling into a small smile “I know you didn’t expect me to come here, and tell you this, but I needed to, and I wanted to tell you that I’m getting my life back. I’m going to take the reins of my life and be true to myself. And I know that you probably are not interested in me anymore, or still hate me, and I won’t judge you. Maybe you’re in a relationship and I don’t want to confuse y- mphh!”

Agatha, tired of hearing your rambling, grabbed you by the waist and smashed her lips against yours. Just like the last time you kissed, but this time she knew this was the first of many.

Your hands flew to her shoulders to steady yourself, shocked for a moment. But when Agatha’s tongue stroked your lips for entrance you let her, humming into her mouth as your hands travelled to her cheeks.

“Fuck, I missed you, pet” she whispered against your lips, making you smile at the pet name before kissing her again. Her soft lips danced against yours while she slowly backed you up against the office desk, her hands sneaking into your sweater, goosebumps erupting your skin as she stroked your bare back.

Then suddenly a knock startled you both, making her pull away from you “Miss. Harkness, the five minute break is up”

Agatha groaned in frustration, and you hid your laugh behind your hand “wait outside for me, ok? I’ll go in a minute” she sighed before kissing your cheek.

“But what about all that people?” You asked her. Referring to all the fans waiting for her to sign their books.

“Whatever, I’m tired to signing books that will be resold in some random web for way too much money” Agatha said with disdain, rolling her eyes and waving her hands dramatically.

You watched her leave the room after sending you a wink, still chuckling at her antics.

Oh, how you’ve missed her.

Without bringing too much attention, you left the book shop and waited the woman on the parking lot, leaning against your car and hugging your arms tightly at the chilly air.

After a few minutes you saw her walk towards you, her arms opening for you, making you smile and instantly falling into her welcoming embrace. You stayed like that for a while, your face hiding into her neck as you took in her scent, her fresh, floral scent that always made you dizzy.

“So… no more Steve?” Agatha asked you, pushing you away softly as she tuck your hair behind your ear, taking in your features.

“No more Steve” you said to her, chuckling.

Agatha sighed in relief. She asked you to go to her place with her, and you of course accepted.

As soon as you arrived to her house, Agatha was all over you, pulling you against her frame, her kisses becoming needy as she guided you down the hallway to the stairs.

“Agatha, we should talk” you told her, your breath trying to ease while she trailed her kisses down your jaw.

“I know” her voice hushed between kisses you almost didn’t hear her.

“Then stop” you let out a giggle, trying not to trip over the stairs as she guided you up.

When you arrived to the second floor the woman pushed you back against the corridor wall softly, her nose rubbing against yours as she looked into your eyes “do you really want me to?” She hummed, leaving little pecks all around your face.

No, you really didn’t. It’s been so long since you felt this way, twelve years to be exact, the way she ran her hands all over your body even with the barrier of your clothes, the way she kissed you so sweetly, so desperate.

“No” you whispered to her, pulling her into another kiss. You could talk later, anyway.

Agatha chuckled against your lips, pulling you into her bedroom. She kicked the door with her foot and dragged you towards the bed, her hands pushing the sweater over your chest, you helped her take it off, giggling as she took in your barely covered chest, her fingers caressing the lace fabric of your bra.

Your hands worked on unbuttoning her shirt as Agatha continued to explore your skin with her fingertips, an when they reached your waist she suddenly shoved you on the mattress, earning a surprised yelp from you “you don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of this very moment”

Agatha discarded her shirt while her eyes burned into yours “countless nights with so many women, and only being able to think about you, trying to imagine they were you”

You breath hitched at her words, the thought of her with other women, but with you in her mind made your insides burn in desire “they were never like you, no one can compare to you”

“Aggie” you whined her name needy, watching as she crawled on the bed after she took off her pants, a smirk in her lips as she ghosted them over your skin on your stomach and chest. 

“Tell me…” she hummed softly, her hands working on pulling you out of your pants “did Steve make you come like I did?” Her eyebrow raised at you, seeing how you only shook your head “you know I like words, pet”

“No” you huffed at her, feeling her hand travel to your back, unclasping your bra with too much ease “he never-“ a gasp interrupted you, Agatha’s mouth closing around your nipple. 

“He never what? Mh?” She fucking knew what she was doing, her knee pressing up against your center, making you go mad under her touch, torturing you. 

She watched you struggle to let any word out, breathing heavily while she toyed with your breasts, nipping and sucking one and pinching the other. She could feel the wet spot on your panties against her knee, your hips rolling on it trying to get some friction, loving how desperate you were for her already.

“Come on… you can say it, beautiful” she said pouting her lips at you, almost as if she was mocking you, and she was. It made you huff at her, a scoff appearing on your features “oh no, none that” she grabbed your jaw, her tone in a warning “behave, alright?”

You nodded making the woman hum in satisfaction “he never has made me come” you whispered out the words, redness creeping up your neck and cheeks, feeling embarrassed at the fact that, in ten years, only you’ve been able to satisfy yourself.

“Aw, my poor thing” Agatha kissed your cheek, she actually felt bad for you. She couldn’t imagine to be stuck with a man for ten years, having to satisfy him almost every night. But she was going to make it up for you “must have been pretty frustrating, mh?”

“Yes” you whined as she started nipping at your neck, your hand going into her wavy hair, your hips rolling into hers unconsciously “Aggie?” You called for her, causing the woman to look at you, pecking your lips in a soft way.

“What do you want, pet?” She already knew, of course she knew, but she wanted to hear you say it, she needed to hear it from you.

“Touch me, please” your eyes stared into her blue ones “make me feel good” she smiled at you, letting out a chuckle before she kissed you.

Her tongue explored your mouth while she helped you taking off your lace panties, leaving you completely bare before her. You immediately wrapped your leg round her hip, feeling her fingers dancing down your belly painfully slow. When she reached your mound, slipping her index finger in your clit you both moaned. 

She trailed her lips down your chest, her fingers rubbing your wetness all over your lips and clit “you’re soaking wet, and I barely touched you” she breathed out, leaving kisses and bites all over your figure. Your back arched to wards her, only being able to let out low moans as she kept playing with your clit, you hips moving against her hand “stay still” she kissed your hip, her free hand pushing them down as she made herself comfortable between your legs.

Fuck. The sight of her kissing your thighs, her eyes never leaving yours, it made you clench around nothing. Just realizing how much you have really missed having her like this, making you heavenly desperate for her. Not being able to think properly, only with her clouding your mind.

And when you felt her tongue lick between your lips back to your clit you whole mind and body crumbled. Your head snapping back into the pillow as you let out a loud gasp, hearing Agatha moan into you “fuck, I missed how good you tasted, doll”

She became feral in that moment, eating you up like a mad woman, sucking and nipping at your clit. Loving every sound she pulled from you, how your hands clutched her sheets tightly, trying not to move your hips, obeying to her. 

Her name came from your lips in a cry, two fingers pushing inside of you without a warning. She chuckled against your clit at your state, making your body shiver from the vibrations. 

You looked so cute, your mouth parted as you tried to control your breathing, eyes closed shut and eyebrows turned into a little frown. Your hand interlocked into her hair, pulling her closer into you, she would have slapped it away in any other situation. But you looked so fucked out already, she let it be, absolutely loving how tight you were clenching around her.

Her fingers in a slow pace, making you whine “if you want anything, you just have to ask for it” she hummed, leaving a kiss over your mound. 

“P-please-“ you let out a broken gasp, her teeth biting at your clit “f-fuck, harder, please” you managed you breathe out, damning the woman for making you feel this way. 

“Good girl” she hummed proudly, her fingers pumping harder into you, hearing your loud moans as she curled them. Her tongue licking patterns on your clit, a six letter word, Agatha, marking you as hers with the action. 

You left the knot on your lower stomach tighten, your hips giving out on you and riding against the woman “fuck, I’m so close Aggie” you whined out, your legs starting to tremble around her. 

When you felt her pace fasten, her sucking your clit it drove you to the edge, your orgasm exploding in powerful waves, your body stiffen against her, letting out her name in a broken moan. Agatha guided you through your high, her fingers continuing their slow pace, her lips kissing all over your thigh as she praised you “did so good for me”, “that’s it, good girl” 

You weakly pulled her hand away when it became too much, hissing at the loss of contact. She kissed her way up your body, stopping face to face, admiring your flushed state, your breath trying to ease as you opened your eyes slowly to look at her, a faint smile appearing in your lips “hi” you giggled softly.

“Hello beautiful” she chuckled with you, kissing all over your face. You hummed before pulling her into a kiss, moaning when you tasted yourself on her tongue.

She laid by your side, pulling you close to her while she kept kissing you. You interlocked your leg with hers, pulling away from her to breathe. And the two of you stayed like that, your thumb stroking her cheek while her fingers draw the same six letter pattern of before on your waist.

“you’re not running away again, right?”

You could hear the fear in her voice, and it made your heart ache “I won’t, I promise I’m not going anywhere”

Agatha believed you, a smile curling in her lips as she pulled you incredibly close to her, her head sneaking in your neck “good, because I don’t want to write a whole other book about it to make you come back” she mumbled playfully into your skin, feeling your shoulders shake against her as you laughed.

And she laughed with you, both of you feeling like those twenty year old girls in college again.

Two idiots in love with each other.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Lesson Learnt Pt. 2 | John Price x Reader

Summary: After the initial incident that caused your meeting, Johnny sets you and Price up on a date at a little diner nearby.

Word Count: ~ 2.5k

Warnings: can’t say much w/o spoilers but random men, ghost being moody, Johnny being overly friendly, working in customer service…

A/N: idk what happened something possessed me when I made this, it was supposed to be fluff but then it exploded. hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist

Weeks had passed after the initial incident, and your life had quickly changed.

You’d broken up with your toxic boyfriend, now wondering how you hadn’t seen it earlier, and why you hadn’t listened to all your friend's advice and thoughts on him. You’d moved out, blocked him on everything, and found a new apartment closer to your simple job as a barista. It was enough to keep the bills paid, for now. At least until you finally got out of college with your doctorate in nursing science.

Having been in college for nearly eight years now, and not living in the dorm (there were far too many incidents on campus for you to trust any sort of campus police, not to mention the generally shady system of coverups) made it a little bit harder.

Student loans were threatening to suffocate you, but for now, you would focus on one day to the next. All of this, the annoying days that drug on, or the hard times, would all be memories before you knew it, and it would be worth it. Or at least you hoped.

Today wasn’t one of those super slow-moving days where customers were ordering hyper-specific drinks or getting the suspiciously old lemon cakes, only to complain about how stale they were, as if you could do anything about it. No, today was relatively normal, customers minding their own business after ordering, coworkers having idle chatter.

“M’ taking my lunch break.”

You said to your close coworker, Laney. Her honey-brown eyes shifted over to you, and she nodded with a little smile.

“Don’t take too long, might miss some cute boys.”

She teased, knowing full well all of your opinions on relationships right now. You wanted to wait until you had a stable income and were out of school. She’d heard it only about a million times. You huffed a soft laugh, deft fingers untying the knot in your apron as you set it up on a hook, walking out to your car.

Lunch break was about 30 minutes, which was more than enough for you to drive to the nearest cheap restaurant and pick something up. Clicking your key button and heading towards where you heard the beep of your car, you opened the door, sliding into the worn leather. It wasn’t a new car, not by a long shot, but it was your old faithful, and it had served you well for nearly ten years in a row.

You started the car, muscle memory kicking in as you drove to that place right down the road from your work. It was past the chicken shop, a place you would refrain from visiting for a while after seeing some undercover cops staking out there one night.

You turned and pulled into the parking lot, glancing around before opening your door, only for the cold air to nip at your bare arms, when you decided to slip on the warm leathery jacket, with the fur on the inside. The one that the man, John, maybe, had given you. You’d lost the piece of paper with their numbers on it to the washing machine, but oh well. He didn’t look like the type to live around here, anyway, so it wasn’t like you were going to see him again.

Walking into the restaurant, you strode to the front, placing a quick little order and paying with your card, before choosing a small circular table in the corner to wait for your food. This place was usually quick. You idly scanned the guests. Two large men sitting together, chatting. An older woman and what was probably her husband seated with a younger man and woman. Maybe some sort of family double date? A nervous-looking teenager sitting alone, knee bouncing. An old, thin man seated at the far end, mumbling incoherently to himself.

Not unusual.

You pulled your phone out, idly scrolling through social media before your name was called, and you got up to go collect your food.

~

“You sure?”

“M’ tellin’ ya, it’s exactly what Gaz said she looked like.”

Simon glanced out at the girl his sergeant seemed so certain about. He wouldn’t lie, you did match the description pretty decently. Just as he opened his mouth to point anything out that fought against Johnny’s claim (just to spite him, obviously, not because he liked watching Soap get all frustrated and start rambling on for an hour on end), he noticed it.

“She’s wearin’ cap’s jacket.”

Johnny’s brows rose as he snuck another glance at you. You grabbed your tray of food, walking back to the small little corner where your bag was on the seat. You were wearing their captain’s jacket. The brown leather, the slight fuzz in the sides and insides, the buttoned pockets….he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it earlier.

“Hell’s bells, been wonderin’ where that thing went.”

Simon only gave a little grunt in reply, eyes narrowed on you before he glanced back at his food. He didn’t want to seem a creep. He already knew he was intimidating enough to the normal civilian, and one of his “I-want-to-eat-your-firstborn-child” glares (named by Johnny and Kyle) probably wasn’t helping.

“Sounds like Price’s found ‘imself a pretty birdie.”

Johnny lit up at those words, a devilish grin lighting his features, one that Simon usually only saw before he demolished buildings or people with explosives. He was already dreading it before it came out of his mouth.

“We shoul’ set ‘em up on a date.”

“No.”

“Don’ tell me it wouldn’ be a good idea. Might keep him from giving us so many sprints at training, yeah? Ya know he’s been overworkin’ us lately…”

The slight pause Simon took was all Soap needed to continue spewing his disarming, convincing words that usually always worked on his Lieutenant. His lips further curled into a grin as he went on.

“He’s been so tense lately, jus’ let us do this for ‘im, help him relax some…”

“Fine. Get on wit’ it.”

Simon finally relented, suddenly finding his food very interesting to look at as Johnny got up, striding over to you with a confidence one could only expect from the Scotsman.

He glanced up, trying to subtly watch as his sergeant approached you. You were on a call with someone, the phone held up to your ear by your shoulder while you ate your fries, the main entree of your order already gone. When Johnny walked up, you immediately sized him up.

Paranoid. Simon didn’t blame you, living on this end of town. The only reason he and the guys stayed here was for the cheap flats they could get when on leave for a few months. Price had a little house more up South, but never visited it much, letting it gather some dust.

You took the phone from your ear, muttering something to whoever was on the other end, and hanging up. You raised a brow at Johnny, who in turn gestured to your jacket and struck up a conversation. Johnny was trying to look unthreatening, he could tell. Sitting down so he wasn’t standing over you. A small, easygoing smile. Trying to make you laugh, and succeeding a bit.

Five minutes in, and you were seeming more comfortable with him. He wrote something down on a napkin from your table with a pen in his pocket, handing it to you, giving a teasing wink which you snorted at, and walking back over to his and Simon’s table with a huge smile.

“Wha’ did you just do?”

Simon asked, suspiciously eying Soap.

“I set our cap’ up with a date.”

He beamed, and Simon only sighed, knowing that Price wouldn’t take it too well to be sent on a date with a girl he’d only just met a few weeks ago. A girl that hadn’t texted him since. But maybe, just maybe, it would go decently.

~

That had been one of the strangest encounters in your life.

A Scottish man introduces himself as a friend of Price’s, saying something about working together at their jobs and telling you he recognized the jacket you were wearing. So much for not ever seeing John Price again, considering his friend had just set the two of you up, and given you the man’s number too. All the while the gruff-looking man had sat at Johnny’s table, watching the interaction.

It had made you more than a little nervous, but nothing had gone bad. The Scotsman had been friendly, and even funny, but not pushing too far.

And now you had a date on Friday night.

When you got back to work, off of lunch break, Laney helped you into your apron, tying the knot for you like she always did.

“You’re late, what took so long?”

She knew you weren’t usually ever late. Always on time, punctual, even. You managed your time properly.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

She grinned at that, nudging you with an elbow as you started taking orders.

“C’mon, spill it.”

And you did.

You began with the incident a few weeks ago, which she’d mostly already heard about, then told her all about the Scotsman and his friend, and finally the date on Friday. Right when you were about to finish the story, you felt your phone buzz, and you took it out to check it despite usually keeping it on Do Not Disturb. A text from an unknown number, but you knew who it was.

“Sorry for my muppets bothering you, they don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.”

You snorted in undignified laughter, replying while an older customer complained, mumbling something about ‘this generation and their phones’.

“I’m assuming you’re talking about Johnny?”

“Yes, the one that barely talks in coherent English.”

“Aw, he was funny. I liked him.”

“Don’t go liking him too much. We apparently have a date on Friday.”

“I’ll see you there, then?”

“See you there.”

You finally silenced your phone, slipping it back into your pocket as you went back to work with a noticeable pep in your step and a warm, fuzzy smile you offered to customers.

Laney certainly noticed.

When your shift was over, ending quickly, she talked to you while walking out to the parking lot through the back exit.

“I can help you get ready for the date, if you want?”

She offered. You’d be stupid to deny, with the impeccable makeup and fashion sense that she had.

“Sure, I can swing by at 3. That’ll give you plenty of time.”

“You have any shifts the rest of the week?”

“Barely. Just little half-times I squeezed in between lecturers. Last year’s always the busiest.”

“See you Friday, then.”

You beamed at her, sliding into your car as she walked to your own.

“See you Friday.”

~

Some of the days passed in a blur, some dragged on slower than ever before.

Eventually, though, Friday rolled around, and you were sitting in your friend’s chair as she did your hair, your makeup light, but good. You were wearing a simple outfit, some clean jeans, and a cute brown sweater over your white shirt.

It was 4:30, and you had only thirty minutes to haul your ass out to the nice diner the both of you were meeting at for dinner.

“It’s fine, I need to go. Seriously.”

Laney gave you a look, but reluctantly started putting all her things away. You hugged her, mumbling thanks in her ear, before grabbing your purse that had all of your things in it and walking to the exit of her quaint home.

You drive to the diner, finding the parking lot to have the familiar old car you’d seen Price driving in the first place. You parked got out of the car, and walked into the diner, only for the server up front to inform you that you’d already been paid for, and she led you to a table where Price was seated.

He’d tried to dress nicely, you could tell. Beard combed and hair done, dressed in jeans and a comfortable-looking dress shirt. He gave you a small smile as you slid into the booth, and there was already a tray of crinkle-cut fries in the center.

“Hope you didn’ mind that I ordered, big fella like me needs a lotta food.”

He said with a chuckle, and you grinned.

“I don’t mind, trust me, my older brother devours food like no other.”

He smiled, a little bob of his head before his brow raised in mild curiosity.

“You got a brother?”

A nod.

“Yeah, name’s Gary. He’s quiet, but we love ‘im for it.”

“Me and the boys are just about brothers, wish they’d be quiet for once.”

You snorted at that, taking a sip of your water before the waitress came by and you ordered your meal. Price’s was the first to come out, he’d ordered a full English breakfast that the diner somehow served, despite it being around dinner time. Yours came out next, and you both idly chattered about your life, family, jobs (he was apparently military and off on leave right now, not that you minded), and whatnot.

When he was about more than halfway through his food, his phone began buzzing, and his face went serious as he held a small finger up to you with a slightly apologetic expression, taking the phone call.

He listened, and you simply continued eating your food, not minding. Everyone had to take important calls every now and then, sometimes it just wasn’t avoidable.

He gave a few gruff yes’ and no’s, before sighing as he replied for one last time into the phone.

“I’ll be right there.”

When he clicked off the call, shoving his phone into his pocket, he gave an apologetic look.

“It’s an emergency, can’t stay. ‘M sorry.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Is everything alright?”

You asked, and he nodded, face set in what looked like a grim determination. He called a waitress over, paying the bill before you both got up. He gave you a light pat on the shoulder as you both walked out, right before you went to your car.

“We could do this again, if you’d like. With no interruptions.”

“I’d like that.”

He breathed an audible sigh of relief at that.

“I’ll text you when I can.”

Before he began walking to his car, getting in. You walked to yours, opened up the driver’s side door, and slid in before you saw his jacket sitting on the passenger seat. Cursing to yourself, you grabbed it, having it in mind to go take it to him before he left.

Before you could move, though, a hand clasped over your mouth.

A cold prick of pain in the back of your neck. Liquid.

“Don’t scream.”

A voice warned as if you could make any noise at all with a hand over your mouth.

An overwhelming sense of heaviness overtook you, and your vision began swimming, before turning black as your eyes fluttered closed.

“What’re we getting ‘er for?”

“Bargaining chip.”

Tags:

@yearninglustfully

@ashy-kit

@theoslove

@mayoforthewin

[back2bluesidex]

Hard Luck - JJK & KTH (18+) - Chapter 1

◆ Pairing: CEO Jungkook X Fem employee Reader X Legal advisor Taehyung. 

◆ Summary: You have a good face, a nice body, a fat amount saved in your secondary bank account, a stable job that you love, loving friends and family, you are good in bed. You have almost everything other than a good luck in love. Sleeping around with random dudes don’t feel enough when your friends are getting married and having kids. If you are being honest, you have started getting bored of this prolonged singlehood already. 

Your last light of hope fades away when your work crush, aka the hot guy from the legal department, Kim Taehyung (with whom you might or might not have slept once, okay! twice!), asks you to set him up with your work best friend (who, apparently, is the most asked out woman of the company). But what you don’t know is that the CEO of the company has taken a liking to you and has started on a mission of winning your heart. 

But wait… Taehyung might have started developing feelings for you in the process of receiving your help.

◆ Chapter summary: Two meetings - One went good - another went downhill.

◆ Theme: Romance, drama, light angst, my poor attempt of humor, fluff and eventual smut. office romance au,

◆ Warnings: Tiny bit angst.

◆ Word count: 3.2k+

◆ A/N: let me know your thoughts.

Minors aren't allowed in this blog!!!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon

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You have a very love-hate relationship with weekends. 

Love because who the hell doesn’t like free times, no rush to drive to work, a quiet time on their couch with some unhealthy snacks and a good movie playing on the TV? 

Hate because weekends make you feel alone. Today is just a copy of yesterday.  

On most Friday nights you end up going drinking with your teammates, save your Saturdays for your friends and your precious Sundays are for yourself and yourself only. 

But lately, your said friends have changed, not by choice but by circumstances. Two of them are married, one is engaged and another just started dating after a prolonged singlehood - leaving you completely out of the order. Now they name most of their Saturdays to their partners, which makes you angry but you know that’s the only normal thing to do. 

So, now you are the one that neither has a partner and nor anyone to spend most of your Saturdays with. 

You sigh as you scroll through netflix. 

There is nothing that catches your eyes, intrigues you enough to start watching. 

Just when you are about to read the description of this new cheesy romcom, your phone vibrates with a call. 

It’s your mom - she calls you ten times a day. 

“Hmmm?” you greet her absent-mindedly. 

“Mia just gave birth to a baby boy!!!” she squeals on the other side of the phone. You can feel her excitement through the vibration of her digitized voice. 

The news lights you up as well. Mia is your favorite cousin and older than you by a year only. 

“Really? Woah! Is the baby fine? Is she fine?” 

“Both of them are fine, ddal.” Your mother, now, replies calmly, “it’s only me who is not.” 

“What? What happened? Joint-pain again?” you sit up on the couch. 

“No. That's not it.” your mother whines. You love to hear her whines. 

“Then?” 

“When will I have my grandchild?” she huffs, making you laugh. 

“Eomma, I’m only 27.” you remind her. 

“That’s why I am reminding you, darling. If you start looking for a man now, you will be able to gift me a grandchild before I hit seventy.”  

The mention of a ‘man’ draws a very particular face on your vision. 

You know you should not think too much, read too much into someone’s actions. But at this age, when you already started feeling alone, feeling the desire for someone to come back home to, you can’t help but to feel the need of holding the next best person who shows you a silver of interest. 

And Taehyung has shown a lot of it. 

You will win in life if you manage to bag someone as nice, hot, handsome and successful as him. 

“Maybe… maybe very soon, eomma.” you add a trail of words to end your thoughts. 

“Omo! Really? Are you seeing someone?” she’s now way too much excited and her excitement makes you want more from the guy who only fucked you twice. 

“No- it’s not that. I am just talking about the possibilities.” your voice sounds frail for some reason. Possibility is what it is. Nothing is confirmed. 

You know you have a crush on Taehyung but at the same time you have no idea if there is more than just lust in his mind.

You try not to think of negative things and engage your mother in off-topic conversations. But in the back of your mind, Taehyung stays still, with his baritone voice and boxy smile. 

“Good morning, sweetheart” Hani, the colleague you are the closest to, chirps in with her sweet voice. 

She is the epitome of perfection. 

The girl looks like a goddess, very friendly, the life of the party, smiles at everyone - doesn’t really matter if she knows them or not, is an amazing cook, and good at the job she does. 

Her amazing persona accompanied by that next level face card, makes her the most desired woman of the company. 

There is hardly any bachelor who hasn’t asked her out yet. And Taehyung is one of them (which makes you think that he must be into you). 

Sometimes you are jealous of her - okay! Scratch that! Most of the time you are jealous of her ability to make friends, to have people wrapped around her fingers without having to do anything while you practically have to beg your own friends to spend their weekends with you. 

And being asked out? That’s a completely different story. 

What you have understood from your experience is that guys love to have you on their bed. You are a good fuck, you know that. But a wife material? No. 

You are way too aloof, emotionally unattached to entertain anyone more than normal boundaries allow you to. Hence, you end up pushing people away.  

And now - at an age where you should be in a long term relationship - you are alone. 

“Good morning, Hani.” you reply with a genuine smile gracing your lips. Honestly, very few people can pull a genuine smile out of you and Hani is certainly one of them. 

Had it been anyone else as popular as her, they would have a big fat ego. But Hani is different and that’s why you love her. 

“How was the weekend?” she asks, placing her order for her usual iced americano. You still don’t understand how people consume this as the first thing in the morning. It’s nothing but cold and bitter.  

You grab your iced vanilla latte and take a mouth full of the sweetness, “as usual. Boring. Only me and my couch and netflix” 

“Oh? You could have called me in. I was mostly alone too.” she sips her aa-aa, and makes a delightful face. You scrunch your nose at that. 

“Really? I thought you do those volunteering stuff on weekends?” you two walk towards the elevator while sipping on your beverages. 

“That’s for day-time. I am usually free during the nights. So, try calling me if you need a companion.” she eyes you expectantly. 

You know she feels alone too, just like you. 

Hani came out of her two year long relationship just a few months ago. She probably feels alone during her free time as her partner is not there to entertain her anymore. 

And maybe it’s a good idea. 

Even though you don’t like to extend your professional relationships beyond the gates of your workplace - Hani can be different. 

You can take this friendship a little further, you guess. 

The elevator door slides open, revealing a certain someone you look for a lot these days. 

Taehyung smiles brightly at you. Two strands of his dark hair fall on his forehead, his siren eyes are full of mirth as they quickly dip down to check you out. But then his eyes fall on Hani. And if you are not wrong then they have a brief eye-contact before someone behind asks you and your friend to get inside and make space already. 

An odd feeling blooms inside your chest. 

Taehyung checked you out, that’s for sure. But what were those love eyes that he regarded Hani with? Did he just fall in love at first sight or something of that sort? 

You settle inside the dingy space of the elevator rather uncomfortably - both physically and metaphorically. 

Hani is standing in front of you and Taehyung is just behind your back. You are sandwiched between the two of them and weirdly enough - you don’t feel too good about the situation. Because you can see Taehyung staring at Hani through the glazed metal door or the elevator. Something churns inside of you at the thought of Taehyung being smitten by your work best friend. 

But maybe you are thinking too much? Maybe time will soon prove you wrong. 

Wrong. Everything is wrong. 

Your teammates do an impressive job everyday except for the days when there is an important meeting and you need documented reports. 

Today is one of those days. And today is even more horrifying because this will be your very first meeting with the new CEO who took over less than a month ago. 

Streets say he is as strict as his father if not more. That’s basically all you know about Jeon Jungkook. You don’t know what he looks like or what he sounds like. And that makes you anxious. 

The prospect of having an one-on-one meeting with the new, young CEO has been freaking you out already and now your subordinate had to do a sloppy reporting job.  

“Oh lord! Sooho! Why did you write ‘no penetration this month’ when the chart is at its peak?” You don’t like to scream at all but the migraine that is climbing up through the path of your neck mixes with your frustration and turns your sentence a little more high pitched than what you usually use. 

“Oh?” your teammate blinks at you being dumbfounded, “is that called penetration?” 

“Yes of course? What did you think? We are asking about your sex life in the reports?” you can’t help but mock the boy. 

Laughter echoes through your workspace but it quickly dies down when you glare at your teammates. They mumble apologies but you pretend not to hear any of it. 

“Sorry, seonbae. I will fix it right away.” he runs towards his cubicle. 

“You have five minutes.” you issue a warning. Taking your phone in your hands, you find a text sitting on your screen. 

Taetae: Any plans tonight?

Your chest heaves with the long breath that you inhale upon reading the text. See… Taehyung still wants to see you! It’s you he wants to see! And you went on an overdrive thinking he might ditch you now and start chasing Hani like the other men of the office. 

Your nails clink against your phone screen as you type your reply. 

You: nope. 

You don’t even get the chance of putting down your phone because his reply comes right away. 

Taetae: Then let's get a coffee after work. I will wait at the lounge. 

You: Sounds cool. 

You don’t know what you feel about this one-on-one meeting situation. 

The previous CEO, Mr. Jeon Jae Gyeong, had meetings with all of the department heads at once and got done with it. 

But the younger Mr. Jeon has sent out emails to everyone stating very clearly that he would be changing the meeting format. 

So, now you are here. Waiting outside his massive office (that could fit your entire workspace and still leave space for a snack pantry), on the verge of an anxiety attack. 

The more you wait, the more restless you feel. Your heels start tapping against the floor creating a rapid sound. The CEO’s assistant, a beautiful guy with blonde hair and soft features, looks at you with an assuring smile - as if to tell you that ‘it’s okay. Don’t get your nerves worked up.’ 

you smile back at him feeling a tiny bit better. 

Just then the huge door of the CEO’s office slides open. The head of the finance team walks out and from the look on his face you can tell that his meeting didn’t go too well. 

Your throat dries at the assumption of what you might face when you go inside. 

You are not going to get fired, right? Right?!

Mr. Bae, the finance head, walks out in haste heightening your anxiety even more. 

Just then the assistant receives a call on his line and murmurs something. He looks at you and says, “you may go inside now.” 

Your legs almost give out. You start planning to go home and update your resume to look for opportunities.  

Taking a long breath, you push the door open. 

Your eyes fall on the prominent figure that is sitting on the large mahogany table. His eyes are focused on the ipad. Mouth shut tight, lips pursed, his downturned face is casted with a shadow, which prevents you from taking a good look at his face. 

What you see is the silver ring that glints on his eyebrow. And are those tattoos on his hand? 

Even if he heard you coming in he clearly didn’t plan on providing you with any of his attention. 

“May I come in, Mr. Jeon?” you curse at the way there is zero confidence in your voice. 

He then looks up at you and locks his eyes with yours. 

Holy shit! He is handsome! 

Your chest heaves with another long breath. 

You wait for him to call you inside but he just sits still staring at you with big doe eyes. His gaze is piercing, intimidating and makes you weak on your knees. 

His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps once before clearing his throat, “Miss Y/N. Please come in.” 

You take careful steps towards his desk praying that you don’t trip and embarrass yourself. He ushers his hand towards the chair, asking you to take a seat voicelessly. 

You do as he asks. 

“How are you doing, Miss Y/N?” Jeon Jungkook asks without diverting his piercing gaze from yours. 

He is looking at you so intently as if he has known you for a long time. 

You give him an easy smile, “I’m doing fine, Mr.Jeon. What about you?” you return his courtesy. 

“Doing great.” Jeon Jungkook gives you a very pretty, heart fluttering kind of smile. 

If your heart really flutters a little  - you are not going to dwell upon it. 

“So, let’s talk about work.” he hums as he dives into his laptop and probably opens the reports you have mailed him earlier. 

Taking a minute to check all the reports, he opens his mouth to speak, “pretty impressive. I have gone through the reports from previous months as well and as I am seeing this month's reports - you have been bringing great results. Online traffic is at an all-time high, ad-clicks have gone past the five million mark, there are an average of 20 real-time users and at least 5 of them are from the states. Great. I must say” he pauses to look at you, “I am very impressed.” The last part of his sentence comes out breezy, a little bit suggestive as if his words are not only about your work. 

Your stomach feels light. 

“Thank you sir.” that’s all you manage to reply. Absent-mindedly you take your lower-lip in between your teeth and nip on it. 

The action catches Jungkook’s eyes. 

“Are you nervous?” he places a very unexpected question, catching you off-guard. 

“Ah- yeah. I mean, It’s my very first encounter with you as the CEO, so I could not help being a bit anxious. Apologies if my actions have disappointed you in any way.” you straighten your back and speak confidently this time. 

He doesn’t seem rude at all. You allow yourself to feel at ease. 

“Don’t worry about that. I get you. But be assured I am not going to eat you up.” he giggles. His giggle makes you break into a smile as well. 

“That’s all for the day. Looking forward to working with you…” Jungkook extends his hand towards you. You wrap your smaller one around his palm and he mutters, “...closely.”  

When you look into his eyes, you see mischief. 

“Sure.” you reply, sucking in all the air you could. 

By the time you come out of his room, your heart is thumping inside your ears. 

What the fuck was that? How is he so handsome? And what were those eyes he looked at you with? Why did he murmur ‘closely’ like that? 

No! You are overthinking again! You scold yourself. 

The assistant gives you another smile as you bow at him a little and walk away. You find Hani waiting to be called inside. 

When she sees you, she approaches you with a nervous grin, “how is the new CEO?” she whisper-yells. 

“Very nice and handsome.” you whisper back. She makes an “O” with her mouth before she gets called inside. 

You check your lips once more in the mirror. 

Being too focused on perfecting your lip liner, you don’t see Hani coming inside the washroom. You only become attentive of her presence when she smacks your ass. 

“Ouch!” a painful groan leaves your lips, “don’t do this! People might think we are dating!” 

“I’d have totally dated you if I wasn’t straight.” Hani chuckles standing beside you, “what’s the occasion tho? Have a date or something?” 

“Nope. Gonna meet Taehyung for a quick coffee.” 

Hani’s eyes wide at that, “Taehyung? As in Kim Taehyung from the legal team?” 

“Yup.” 

“Ohh hooo” she sings “I didn’t know you guys have coffees with each other, huh?” 

“It’s not what you think, Hani.” you look at her, raising a brow. 

“Oh? Really? But I think he is a good guy. He even greeted me when we met during lunch and I’m sure he didn’t even know me before this morning.” 

Huh? Taehyung greeted Hani? That’s weird. Because he hardly ever smiles at people he doesn’t know properly. 

You don’t let your expression give away your thoughts when you murmur a little ‘yeah’ to your friend. 

Teahyung looks like a painting - or better - a sculpture as he sits there facing the huge window of the lounge. 

He is devastatingly handsome. A smile creeps up to your lips without you realizing so. 

This time you walk confidently, marching towards him as if you own it all. The sound of your heels against the floor makes him face you and look up at you.

“Hey” he greets you as you sit down across from him. 

“Hi” you greet back, waving your hand to a waiter. 

“How was the day?” Taehyung asks, once you are done placing your order. 

“Nerve-wracking. I almost fainted before the one-on-one meeting.” you recall the incidents, then the man. 

Jeon Jungkook’s handsome face flashes before your eyes for a second. 

Taehyung chuckles at your answer, “I know. Jungkook can be really intimidating.” 

You pout, “oh? You’re talking as if you know him personally?” 

“Actually yes. We are not at all close and probably talked a few times but we share the same group of friends.” 

Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline at the information, “Really? That’s great. It would have been easy for you to face him then.” 

“Oh god! Not at all! He had me pinned at my seat for the entire meeting. All serious expressions and no smile.” Taehyung grimaces at the memory. 

“He smiled at me though. Actually… giggled. He was super nice.” you start recalling the encounter again. 

“He must have really liked you.” Taehyung muses. 

Is he jealous? You ask yourself. Even though Teahyung sounds anything but envious. 

“By the way, Y/N. I asked you to meet today for a selfish reason.” he smiles sheepishly. 

“What is it?” you ask sipping your coffee that just arrived. 

“Are you close to Hani?” 

As soon as the words leave Taehyung's lips, your world stops moving. You know what is about to come and it breaks your heart but you are determined not to show it on your face. 

“Yeah. why?” you manage to voice upon gulping the lump that formed in your throat. 

All of a sudden Taehyung lunches forward grasping your hands with his big ones, “help me please. Set me up with her! Pleaaaaseeeee” his boxy smile is on full view. 

Once that smile warmed you up but right now you feel nothing but cold. 

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[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Your Casanova

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You're the team's jet pilot who always looks forward to spending time with Spencer Reid. His love for you is unconditional.

Square Filled: jet pilot (2021) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You’re in the middle of doing your checklist when Spencer walks onto the jet. He looks to the cockpit and sees you there doing your thing. A bright smile etches on his face, and he steps aside to let his coworkers past him so he can talk to you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Spencer!” you grin and look at him. “I’m glad you’re here. How has your week been?”

“I finished ten more books. I would have finished more, but I was a bit busy playing chess at the park with the other kids. I also went to the local library and participated in the local science fair. The kids had good ideas but I helped them hone their craft.”

“Sounds like you had it good.”

“It would have been better with you by my side.”

That makes your cheeks heat to which your copilot smirks. You nudge her leg to get her to shut up. She knows of the little crush you have on Spencer ever since meeting him a few years ago. Hearing about his week makes your day tenfold. You’re the main pilot for the BAU for both A and B Teams. A Team is by far your favorite team because it’s the team Spencer’s on.

While you have to focus on flying, there are times when you can take a small break and let your copilot take the reigns. You and Spencer always have something to talk about no matter the subject because as much as it makes your day to hear about his, it makes his day to hear about yours.

However, it’s not always sunshine and rainbows as Penelope likes to put it. Spencer will be one way when you pick him up at the airport but be another way when you get to take him home. The stress of the case will weigh heavily on his shoulders, so you like to do the little things to help him feel better even if you don’t think they’ll help.

Spencer walks onto the plane after the grueling case you took him to, and you notice how his shoulders sag a bit.

“You got this, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll finish the checklist.”

You leave the cockpit and join Spencer’s side in the small kitchen where he’s making himself some coffee.

“Hey, sunshine,” you say to him.

“Hey,” he says and gives you a half-smile.

“I’m not gonna pretend to know what you’re going through, but I think under the circumstances, you’re doing a good job. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Derek smirks when he hears you subtly flirt with him, which Spencer doesn’t pick up on.

“Thanks,” Spencer smiles.

You get back to the cockpit to get ready for take-off. This flight isn’t as long as some of the others so sPencer decides to spend it taking a nap. When the plane lands, you allow the agents to get off first before you and your copilot do. Spencer and Derek are quietly arguing about something as you pass by them, and then you feel someone crash into your back.

“I am so sorry,” Spencer chuckles nervously.

“That’s okay. Did you need something?”

Spencer looks back at Derek who gives him an encouraging nod.

“Would you like to go out with me on Friday? I know a great Indian place.”

“I love Indian food,” you grin.

“So, is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Um, here is my number.”

He fumbles with his FBI card that has his personal number on there.

“Great. I’ll call you,” you grin and walk off.

As they say, the rest is history. You and Spencer have been in a loving and stable relationship for a year now, and you fall in love with him every single day. You’re piloting for B Team this week, so Spencer planned something special for you when you return. You told him the date and time at which you would be touching down, and he told you he’d been waiting for you at the pickup area.

When you land, you rush to get your things so you can see Spencer sooner. You step into the pickup area and frown when you don’t see your tall boyfriend. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic or trying to find parking. You wait five minutes and grow concerned. He’s never late.

The irrational part of your brain thinks he’s cheating or that he doesn’t love you anymore even though you absolutely know he’d never hurt you like that. You look at the time when you hear two security guards laughing to your right. They’re looking at someone lying on the bench next to them, and when you walk closer, you see it’s Spencer. He’s so tired that he fell asleep waiting for you on the bench with flowers in his hands.

“Man, I bet he’s whipped,” one of them chuckles as they walk past him.

You walk over to him with a smile on your face and put a hand on his cheek gently.

“Spencer, baby?”

He jumps awake at your touch and looks up at you apologetically.

“Sorry, I fell asleep.”

He hands you the flowers that are slightly squished from his body.

“They’re beautiful,” you chuckle and lean down to kiss him. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s go home and fall asleep to Disney movies.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he grins.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[archangeldyke-all]

Hello Angel!!!

Perhaps Cowboy Sev breaking older Vi and Jinx out of jail. After so many years Sev would be so rusty that she needs reader to help too. Go wild with the shenanigans they get up too. Could bring back Silco and the boys to help legally maybe. Hilarious if somehow Vi got in trouble trying to impress Caitlyn and somehow managed to get Jinx involved. Also funny if Sev and reader meet Caitlyn as Vi’a girlfriend during this break out HAHHAHA

Pls I’m obsessed with cowboy Sevika HELP ME

Thank youuuuu

this is SOOOOOO cute such a good idea i'm crying.

men and minors dni

ten years into marriage, fifteen years into your relationship, eight years with the girls, five with them legally yours, and sevika finally retires.

there was no need for her to work at the ranch in the first place. the amount of loot she'd stolen and stored in your inn (both in your room hidden beneath the floorboards and in the rafters, and buried beneath your side garden) was enough to take care of you for ten lifetimes to come. but, sevika was used to spending her day on shimmer's back, and she needed something to do with her free time once she gave up her life of crime.

but now, things have changed. sevika's ready to settle down and spend her days in the inn with you. the girls are growing up, vi being sixteen and powder being twelve-- they'll be living their own lives soon, and sevika wants to be around to keep you company as you transition into empty nesters.

shimmer died last winter. the four of you spent her last days cuddled up beside her in the stable, feeding her sugar cubes by the handful, saying your final goodbyes to sev's trusty mare. she rests behind the side garden now, marked by a big stone vi and jinx engraved.

old man ernie died too, leaving his ranch to his son. when he took over, he offered to let sev keep her job, but she declined. she was ready to retire.

she's been adjusting to retired life really well.

she loves working behind the bar in the evening, chatting with locals who stop in for a drink and swapping stories with some of your shadier guests in the in.

she's gotten really into reading-- especially smutty paperback romances.

when she gets restless cooped up in the inn, you send her out to ride the new foal-- a sweet young horse the girls decided to name teddybear.

it's been great having sev around all the time. especially for your sex lives.

speaking of your sex lives, you and sevika have been having a particularly fun week. the girls took teddybear out on a trip to a town two days ride south. they're meeting up with mylo and claggor there to catch the traveling circus. and it's summer time, which is always your slow season, and as of two days ago-- you've got no guests. you and sevika have been having a fucking blast, fucking on any and every flat surface you can find. your legs have been like jelly all week long.

it's been paradise.

"what're you smilin' at?" sevika mumbles from her side of the bed. you grin, turning on your side to stare at your sleepy wife. it's the crack of dawn, not even the rooster is awake yet. just you and the crickets, singing through the open windows.

"you're awake." you say. sevika smiles.

"i am indeed. c'mon, what's got you smilin' all pretty, darlin'?" she asks again, yawning to punctuate her question.

you scooch forward to kiss her nose, and sevika grins, her eyes scrunching closed.

"what i've been smilin' at for the past fifteen years, baby." you say. sevika chuckles.

"havin' sweet dreams about me?"

"more like flashbacks to last night." you say, waggling youreyebrows salaciously. sevika laughs.

"mmm, knew we'd break the bedframe one'a these days." sevika says with a proud little smile. you giggle and sit up on your elbows to look over at the broken bedframe stacked against the wall beside where the two of you sleep-- on the mattress on the floor.

"shit, sev that was oak, can't believe you fucked me through oak." you laugh. sevika nods cockily.

"damn right i did." she says. you giggle and fall back down to bed, snuggling against her chest. "how're you feeling?" she asks.

you snort. "well, i don't think i'm gonna be able to walk straight for a few days, and i woke up giggling, so... i'm better than i've been since our honeymoon." you say.

sevika grins, her sweet little gap makes your heart melt, and she smacks your ass.

"fuck, i love you." she sighs. you giggle and kiss her neck.

"love you too."

you guys drift off to sleep in each other's arms.

an hour later, the rooster crows, and you both wake up smiling again.

"morning." sevika mumbles. you kiss her lips.

"morning."

"i'll fetch some fresh water if you start breakfast?" sevika offers.

"will you let the chickens out?" you ask. sevika nods.

"duh." she says. you grin.

"deal."

you guys move slowly, lazily rubbing your eyes and yawning as you wash your faces and brush your teeth, stretching and kissing between each article of clothing you pull over your naked bodies, luxuriating in the slow morning all to yourselves.

sevika laughs at the limp in your step, and you pinch the bruises you left on her shoulders in revenge.

you fry up some eggs and hashbowns, watching through the window over the stove as sevika pumps fresh water from the well, watering your garden, the chickens, and finally lugging two buckets inside for the two of you to share.

you guys eat breakfast on the front porch, cuddled together on the porch swing violet 'found' for the two of you a few years ago. (you're pretty sure she stole it off sheriff marcus' front porch, but violet hasn't admitted it yet, and the sheriff's still too scared of you and sev to say anything.)

"how do you think the girls're doin'?" you ask as you sip your coffee. sevika snorts.

"i knew you were gonna ask that." she teases. you roll you eyes and sevika leans over to press a kiss to your temple. "they're fine. you know they're fine." she says. you huff.

"i know, i just miss 'em." you say. sevika laughs.

"i do, too, darlin'." she says.

sevika leans in to kiss you, and you sigh against her, quickly melting against her lips. she licks against your lips and you hum, opening your mouth for her to slide her tongue into your mouth--

"ahem!" a voice calls.

you and sevika pull apart, necks snapping to the stairs in front of you where a teenage girl stands, blushing and rubbing the back of her neck.

sevika clears her throat in embarrassment. you giggle.

"how can we help you, honey?" you ask the girl. her eyes dart up to you, quickly shooting between you and sevika, back to you, and then sevika again.

"uh..." she chokes out. she squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, before taking a deep breath. "s-sorry to inturrupt ma'am, i just-- d-do you happen to know a mylo and claggor? or violet and jinx, percha-"

"oh fuck." sevika groans. the girl squeaks at the curse, and you chuckle. "what did those shits get themselves into now?" she asks.

she blinks. "uhm. jail, miss." she says.

you blink.

sevika's jaw drops.

the girl clears her throat. "a-about thirty miles south of here in a small town call--"

"what did they do?" sevika groans. "i trained them for every scenario, how the fuck did they get caught?!" she whines.

you blink again, spots in your vision popping up.

"uh... they shot the sheriff?" she says.

you gasp.

sevika laughs.

"shit." she says, somewhat impressed. "on purpose?" she asks, her eyebrow raising.

you feel lightheaded.

"n-no ma'am. accident. he's still alive-- but he's sentenced them to hang at the end of the week..."

that's the last thing you hear before you black out.

you wake up in bed, sevika nervously hovering over you, pressing a wet cloth to your forehead.

"wha--"

"you passed out."

"jinx and vi--" you snap up in bed, scrambling to your feet. sevika's beside you in an instant, steadying you as you're knees threaten to give out beneath you.

"it's oka--"

"sevika don't you dare say 'it's okay' to me right now!" you snap. she shuts her mouth.

footsteps start up the steps, and you look over your shoulder, where the teenager from before appears, a fresh bucket of water in her hands.

she freezes at the top of the steps, taking in the tense environment she walked in, then turning red as a tomato when she tries to avert her eyes from you and sevika, and makes direct eyecontact with the broken bedframe behind the two of you.

you would laugh at the poor, flustered girl. now though, she just reminds you a bit of the first time violet saw you and sev kiss, and that just makes you want to vomit.

"caitlyn, here," sevika starts in an irritatingly annoying voice, "was hanging out with the kids at the circus, right cait?" sevika asks. caitlyn nods.

"i live in town." she explains.

"and when they got arrested, cait was the only one who got away. violet told her to come get us, right cait?" sevika asks again. caitlyn clears her throat.

"i rode through the night. i also sent a telegraph to a mr. silco?" she says. you blink.

"right. and we're all gonna meet in town, and we're gonna figure something out, okay baby?" she asks. you gulp.

"sevika--"

"honey, i'm not gonna let anyone put a damn finger on our kids." she says firmly. you look away from the teenager to take in the steely sincerity of your wife's eyes, and you gulp. she gently reaches up to cup your face. "c'mon, have a little faith in me, darlin'" she coos, melting into a soft smile. you sigh shakily. "i'm the fuckin' weary woman of the west-- what's a little jailbreak, huh?"

you take a deep breath and lean forward to press your forehead against hers.

"we're gonna need a few horses." you say. sevika grins.

"i'm way ahead of you." she says.

grayson was happy to lend you two horses and buggies, almost crying at the thought of the girls in trouble. she promised to come over every day to care for your chickens and garden while you were away, and you thanked her profusely before riding the animals home faster than you've ever ridden-- anxious to get back.

when you arrive, it's to caitlyn and sevika waist deep in the dirt behind your garden, a few yards away from where shimmer lays. for the first time since caitlyn's arrived, you laugh.

sevika's pulls a crate out of the ground prying it open with a crowbar. as she opens the crate, she reveals dozens of sticks of dynamite, and she grins up at you with a proud smile. you giggle, and roll your eyes. caitlyn shoots out of the hole, terrified by the explosives.

"i'm gonna pack up some food for the trip." you nod to your house. "come help me kid." you say. the girl nods eagerly, sprinting away from the dynamite. sevika laughs.

you guys pack quickly, visiting the cellar for cans of food, gathering the essentials for travel, a couple blankets and quilts, a pack of matches, canteens and jugs of water. while you're folding some clothes, both for you and sevika as well as jinx and powder, you break down into tears.

caitlyn flounders around you for a few seconds, and you try desperately to collect yourself, but you can't quite manage.

the girl gently, awkwardly pats your shoulder.

you turn around and hug her impossibly close to your chest. she squeaks.

"fuck. shit." you cry. you take a few deep breaths, squeezing the girl in your arms, before letting her go. "sorry." you say, dropping your hands at your sides. "thank you." you sob. "for coming to get us."

caitlyn blinks, then wraps her arms around you, pulling you toward her this time. you giggle through your laughs against her shoulder and she gently rubs your back.

"violet told me you'd freak out." she says... "you remind me of my mom."

"oh, fuck, do your parents know where you are?" you gasp, pulling away. caitlyn laughs.

"yes." she says. you raise an eyebrow at her and she sighs. "okay, no. but they think i'm safe, at the circus, they won't be looking for me for a while." she swears.

"you stupid fucking kids." you groan.

you leave town at noon, and ride until midnight. the trip is solemn, nobody tries to talk much.

sevika's got this look in her eye, something you haven't seen in a long time. she's up to something-- something more than her usual mischievous pranks and jokes. the gears in her head are grinding, you can practically see her run scenarios and outcomes back and forth through her mind's eye.

it's a little scary-- you forgot how focused and intense she gets when she's plotting something. it's mostly hot though.

but you can't really say that-- not with caitlyn lurking. still, sevika catches your eye a couple of times and smirks, like she knows just how hot she looks as she rides beside you.

caitlyn's a good navigator-- apparently she's a junior guide up and down the river, so she knows the route to town like the back of her hand. she gets you around mountains, avoids most hills, and knows the best spots to stop for when the horses need to rest. sevika's impressed. the two of them chat over the campfire about the surrounding areas, comparing notes and shortcuts they've learned over in their travels. it's so cute it breaks your heart.

it's a dry, warm night, so you sleep beneath the stars.

you don't sleep.

sevika doesn't sleep.

you just stare at the sky while caitlyn and the horses rest.

at one point, sevika reaches over and grabs your hand. "it's gonna be fine." she says. tears well up in your eyes.

"i love you so much." you say. sevika squeezes your hand so hard it's painful, and she replies shakily.

"i love you too darlin'."

it's silent long enough for you to think sevika's fallen asleep, but then she speaks again. "betcha five bucks caitlyn's vi's girlfriend."

you burst into laughter, smacking your hand over your mouth as you laugh. caitlyn stirs beside you, and you can feel sevika's silent, mischievous laughter beside you. you nudge her with your elbow.

when you catch your breath, and caitlyn's snoring returns, you whisper to your wife. "you have way too much faith in your daughter."

she snorts.

you get to town by noon, and sevika sets you and caitlyn up in a the saloon that was the address caitlyn had telegraphed to vander and silco. she takes off to scope out the police station.

it's a pretty gritty place, and you look around it with a raised eyebrow, then look down at caitlyn. she's sitting with perfect posture, dusting off her tailored riding coat.

"you hang out in this saloon?" you ask. she blinks up at you and then sighs.

"well, no... but it's where all the shootouts in town happen!" she says. "it felt... good for planning a crime?" she tries. you laugh.

"sevika's gonna love this." you say. she grins. "what do your parents do?" you ask. caitlyn gulps.

"uh... oil?" she says.

you burst out into laughter.

"shit you're an heiress?" you ask. she nods. you shake your head. "no way vi's bagged you yet." you mumble. caitlyn blushes bright red and clears her throat.

sevika comes back before sunset, sitting beside you at the table and scrawling away in her notebook little sketches of the prison, mumbling to herself, occasionally looking up to ask caitlyn questions.

surprisingly, cait seemed to know a lot.

"do you know which cell they're in?"

"the one on the far end here." caitlyn says, circling a part of sevika's diagram.

"and who else is being held right now?"

"nobody. the sheriff's been itching for some action."

"how do you know all of this?" you ask. caitlyn blushes.

"it's good to stay up to date on local going ons." she says. you chuckle.

she's a dork, you think fondly. she's perfect for violet.

sevika returns to her drawings and you decide it's time to interrogate your daughter's possible future girlfriend.

"how exactly did the kids shoot the sheriff?" you ask. caitlyn blushes bright red, and you raise your eyebrow.

"uh. well..."

sevika looks up from her notebook, intrigued.

caitlyn gulps, then looks away. "it might've been me." she whispers.

your eyes widen.

"what?" sevika asks.

caitlyn blinks, then speaks so fast it's almost impossible to make out. "violet was showing off all the cool things she could do, and i had packed my gun to bring to the circus because they've got contests for clay duck shooting and you can win twenty bucks if you make it to the tournement and i'm a really good shot--" she sucks in a breath, tears bubbling up in her eyes "so i wanted to show off my shooting skills and vi told me to shoot the big roasted hog in the food tent and i did right through the eyes! but i didn't see the sheriff on the other side of the pig getting himself a serving, so the bullet went straight through his shoulder." she finishes, gasping for another breath.

"how did--"

"and before i could even do anything violet was already taking the gun from my hands and telling me to run and i'm so sorry--" she starts to sob.

"shit, relax, kid, it's okay." sevika says, reaching out to pat caitlyn's back. you smile. "it's fine, we're not mad." sevika says. caitlyn gasps, her eyes shooting up between you and sevika.

"you're not?" she asks. you shake your head no. "o-oh." she whispers, wiping her eyes. you ruffle her hair.

silco and vander arrive quickly after. they took the train, and they clearly left the moment they got the message-- wearing day old wrinkled clothes, no luggage, just pistols tucked in every pocket on their bodies.

silco's greeting is a gaurentee that he's going to kill the kids before the sheriff can, and vander's apologetic assurances that his husband is only joking. silco's appearance seems to ease something in sevika, and the two of them quickly fall into a hushed conversation as sevika discusses her plan with silco. caitlyn's right beside them, a little furrow in her brow as she absorbs their hushed discussions.

vander, cordial as ever, gives you a hug and presses a solid kiss to your scalp.

"how're you holding up?" he asks.

"better now that you're here." you respond. he laughs.

"can i be honest?" he mumbles. you nod. "silco's not gonna get the chance to kill the kids, i'll have already fucking done it." he whispers. you laugh. "we're not young and spry like you and sev-- we both nearly had heart attacks when we got your message." he groans. you rub his shoulder as you laugh.

"you wanna hear somethin' that'll make you laugh?" you ask. he nods.

"violet's got a crush on the girl here." you say. vander raises his eyebrow, looking over at caitlyn, who's absorbed by the diagram of the prison, pointing and mumbling to an interested and engaged silco and sevika. "an oil heiress." you say. vander chuckles.

"huh. well are the feelings mutual?" he asks. you laugh.

"they better be. violet got all our fuckin' kids arrested for her ass." you whisper. vander groans and rolls his eyes, grabbing his chest.

"oh, don't tell me these things." he begs. you laugh.

"you're lucky you don't have girls." you say.

you wait until midnight to start your plan.

you split up into three groups.

silco and vander are the horsemen, both of grayson's and cait's, plus teddybear, who they found outside the jail, wrangled up and tied to the two carts-- ready to get out of town fast once you break the kids out.

sevika's on explosives, obviously.

you and caitlyn have to find a way to communicate with the kids.

you're helping wrap a bandanna around the lower half of caitlyn's face, tugging an old hat low on her face to disguise her as best as possible. she grunts and squirms.

"quit movin'. you're a fuckin heiress, everyone knows your face. you can't be seen breakin' kids outta prison." you say. she sighs.

"fine." she grunts as you wrap a scarf over her neck.

"okay." you whisper, satisfied now that she's bundled enough to be indistinguishable. "show me this window."

caitlyn guides you around the back of the jail building, and quietly points up to a cell window about fifteen feet off the ground, iron barred.

"take the beef jerkey." you say, shoving the paper package in her hand. she pockets it, and then you crouch. "stand on my shoulders." you say. she nods, clambering on top of you.

once she's steady, you groan as you stand to your full height. with caitlyn on your shoulders, she can peek through the window.

the window, apparently, sits above the sheriff's desk-- likely where he's in a whiskey induced coma now-- sleeping away the pain of his shoulder. oppisite his desk, are the iron bars holding your children.

the sheriff's got a dog, hence the beef jerkey.

caitlyn whistles into the window. you cringe.

the sheriff snores, and the dog whines. you can make out the plop of a piece of jerkey, and then caitlyn's whispered, "hi doggie!"

you bite back your smile, and almost collapse when you hear jinx's voice.

"oh for fuck's sake-- violet!" she whispers."your stupid fucking girlfriend's here!"

you grin, tears welling in your eyes at the sound of your kid.

"caitlyn!" violet exclaims. you take a shaky breath.

"we're blowing the back wall down." caitlyn whispers. "you need to shelter on this end."

there's some shuffling as the kids wake up and run over to the oppisite wall, and you grin at the pitter patter.

the sheriff gasps, and you freeze. caitlyn bites squeaks.

and then he's back to snoring. you sigh shakily and squeeze caitlyn's ankles.

"stay there. we'll see you on the other side." she whispers, then she jumps down from your shoulders.

the two of you take off for the oppisite side of the building where sevika's waiting for the two of you.

she grabs your hand as she lights the line to the dynamite. you hold your breath. the line sizzles, sizzles, sizzles, quickly reaching the sticks at the base of the wall, until it... fizzles out.

sevika holds her breath. you hold your breath. caitlyn gasps, "oh fuck-- what do we do no--"

she's cut off by a BOOM!

the ground shakes, dust goes flying, and the wall comes tumbling down.

as the dust clears, a small fire illuminating the inside of the cell, you grin as the kids start hooting and hollaring in amazement.

"THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!" jinx and claggor shout at the same time as they all come sprinting out of the cell.

sevika snorts, then smacks them both upside the head.

"fuckin' stealth mission, assholes!" she whisper-scolds. mylo cackles.

"sorry sevika, but the stealth went out the window with that wall!" he laughs. sevika snorts and wraps all three of them up in her strong arms.

beside you, violet gasps, tears streaming down her eyes as she reaches up to pull caitlyn's bandana away.

"you came back." she whispers dramatically. you roll your eyes at the pure corniness, and then melt at the sweet sight of caitlyn darting forward and pressing her lips against your daughter's.

it's clumsy and quick, and they're both pull away bright red and gasping. you quickly look away when violet's eyes dart toward you, pretending like you weren't looking.

it doesn't seem to matter though, because next thing you know you have an armful of violet, sobbing into your shoulder. you squeeze her tight against your chest, and press a kiss against her head.

"you're in so much fucking trouble." you whisper against her hair. she giggles between her sobs.

"i knew you'd come." she whispers. you laugh.

"duh, dumbass. we need someone to take care of the chickens every day." you say. she cackles.

a gunshot rings out, and you all jump, turning around to face the now- open cell.

the sheriff stand sin the debris, a shard of wood speared through his unshot arm, his gun held weakly in his hand at his waist.

you push violet and caitlyn away to run grabbing their hands as you sprint down the street. beside you, sevika's got mylo under her arm, and calggor's got jinx on his back as they sprint, screaming and laughing down main street.

as the sheriff chases after you, unloading his gun at you, a bullet grazes violet's arm. she gasps in pain, and you gasp in horror, and before you know what's happening you're spinning on your heel and stopping dead in your tracks, reaching for the pistol you'd tucked into your waistband this morning.

you take a deep breath, and close one eye. lining your barrel up with the sheriff's bald, sweaty face.

he gets closer. he gets closer. sevika notices you're missing behind you, screaming your name, and the sheriff's right in front of you.

you shoot, and he crumbles to the ground.

it's quiet, and then your ears start ringing, and then, as the music fades, the sound of jinx's celebratory hoots fill your ears. you grin and turn back around, jogging to catch up to your family where everyone besides jinx (whose dancing in celebration at your shot) is frozen in place and gawking at you.

you smack sevika's ass as you pass her, grabbing jinx's wrist as you continue down main street, toward where silco and vander were waiting.

"c'mon y'all, someone's gonna check in on all this commotion soon!" you call over your shoulder.

shocked laughs fill the dusty main street as you and your family flee.

the ride back to your inn is mostly spent in long lectures, hilarious re-tellings of the kids' experience in jail, and tears and kisses being pressed to cringing children's heads.

but when you get back home to your inn, on your turf, all the anxiety and stress from the journey wear off, and you can finally relax.

you set up vander and silco and the boys in three rooms. violet eagerly volunteers to host caitlyn in her room, which makes you all laugh, (jinx groans in disgust) and you allow it.

and then, after scrubbing down with a washcloth, you fall crawl into the mattress on the floor beside sevika.

she's been snoring since you got back. she woke up for dinner, then fell back asleep after. but the second your weight hits the bed, she's blinking open, a smile on her face. you snort at her.

"what's that look for?" you ask.

"y'know that was the hottest thing i've ever fuckin' seen?" she whispers. you laugh.

"oh yeah?" you ask. she nods.

"didn't think you had it in you." she says, smirking. you just shrug and wink at her.

"you woulda done it anyways, i saw that look in your eye." you say. she grins and nods.

"yeah, but i didn't even have to try. my fuckin' outlaw wife killed the sheriff for me." she says, a blush working up her cheeks. you grin.

"now you know how it feels." you say. she laughs and you dart forward to kiss her forehead.

"i love you." she whispers. "i'm gonna fuck you through the floor tomorrow morning." she mumbles as she drifts off to sleep. you laugh.

"not happenin' babe." you say, kissing her forehead. "the kids are underneath us."

sevika groans. "those stupid fuckers."

you laugh and kiss her again. "i love you, sev."

"you owe me five bucks." she says.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[opmilfzine]

✨ "Mother Knows Best" Advice Column: Kokoro! ✨

(written by @jessenosabaku)

On 'Career':

You want a stable career? If you find a foolproof guide to getting one, send me a copy. Maybe then I can afford the top-shelf brandy.

Switch the word “jobs” with “opportunities” and you’ll get a clearer picture of the road ahead. They appear at random, and can vanish in a moment. And, naturally, the richest people receive the best ones by default. If you want a piece of what’s left over after the sharks finish feeding, you need to learn to recognize strong opportunities.

Tom-san made that easy for me. There’s an old adage about the “right room” and the “right people,” and I knew from the moment I saw his blueprints that the “right room” was whichever one he stepped into. So, when he left Fishman Island, I followed him. Not long after, the current of history found him—sucked right into that vortex that circled Tom-san all his life. And I started riding that current right around the time that Gold Roger commissioned the Oro Jackson.

Tom kept me on payroll as his secretary. Taking inventory and filing tax documents alone could have filled a full-time shift. Who the hell wants to spend their entire week on that, though? Once you’ve stumbled into opportunity, complacency is no longer an option. I spent at least three days out of each week assisting Tom-san with the building, and test driving his watercraft. That first model of the sea train—no way in hell would I let anyone else act as conductor. I practiced driving it for years until the track became a part of me, just like the sea and my own two fins. And when the world acknowledged the sea train, they couldn’t help but acknowledge me, too.

Decades later, and I’m still here. Still chugging along.

But that’s not the answer you’re hoping for, right? Because luck and hard work can’t guarantee you a stable future. I can’t even guarantee you’ll enjoy your work, much less thrive. Even at the peak of business, when we were busting our asses around the clock, Tom’s Workers never quite broke even. Especially after Tom took on Iceburg and Franky as apprentices. I think that’s why he insisted on accepting them, though—he couldn’t pass up the chance at a legacy. One that could outlast all that we built. We never knew what those two might become. Now, they’ve long-since grown into master shipwrights, one of whom built yet another Oro Jackson for a new Pirate King. And now I watch Chimney, doing at age ten what I could only do as an adult, and I know what Tom-san knew.

No matter your field, find your Tom-san. Or find someone like me, who has worked way too long and knows way too much. Keep growing. And whatever you learn along the way, pass that on. As a mentor, or a mother, or a friend—I don’t care what you become. Just be the right person, in the right room, when your turn comes around.

---

Thank you for the boost! 🥂 @opfandombase @opzinebulletin

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Hiii :)

Do you have any Harry headcanons ?

In the previous episodes: Headcanons about the Potter kids and Teddy Headcanons about Ginny

Now, some Harry headcanons:

His favourite colour is red but that's basically canon

Called the big black dog he and Ginny adopted "Pad" (in reference to Padfoot of course), literally the only animal he managed to name out of all the zoo they have in the house

Canonically he becomes Head Auror at 27, around the same time Lily was born, so I think it happened for a similar reason to Ginny changing her job. Harry loves being in the action and it definitely wasn't his last opportunity to become Head Auror, but basically never going in the field and generally having way more stable hours meant having way more time for the kids

After the war, he discovers that there's an actual Potter vault at Gringrotts he started having access to at 17. There he finds, besides more money, a lot of family heirlooms, diaries, and things taken from the cottage and so he starts discovering more about the Potter family.

When Ginny goes back to Hogwarts, Harry doesn't exactly have the easiest time dealing with her absence. So once he understands that drinking himself to death might not be a great idea he decides to keep himself extremely busy. Obviously, Auror's training helps, but also he spends a lot of time with Teddy and, inspired by what he finds in the Potter vault, he starts investigating his family, finding distant relatives or simply people who knew his parents and grandparents and maybe even great-grandparents. Not only from the Potter side but the Evans one too. He writes to Ginny about it and it becomes a sort of game where she suggests places to check (especially with her pureblood knowledge of the wizarding world) and many of the people Harry meets become inside jokes between them, like some sort of characters

Lily has him wrapped around her little finger. In his defence, she looks just like her mother, what is he supposed to do??

He is like ridiculously good at his job? Especially when he comes to terms with the fact that he can be very intimidating and starts using that with purpose

He is the one that cooks usually, a sort of reappropriation of the activity after his childhood. Now he does it for the people he loves and that very much love him back.

When the kids are all at Hogwarts, he decides that he needs another hobby besides cooking. I've always imagined gardening because it's an open-air activity and it's very methodical and therefore relaxing. Maybe he starts keeping a vegetable garden.

Robards is absolutely the new addition to his collection of father figures.

When he becomes Head of the DMLE, he gets as secretary a very competent, very grumpy, lady that is old enough to be his mother. Harry adores her because she doesn't give a fuck about him being Harry Potter and when she retires he is grumpy about it for months.

On this note, Harry takes Ron leaving the Aurors as a bit of a personal offence. He gets over it eventually but oh, he definitely complains about it

The Auror partner he has for years is a guy ten years older than him, that already has a wife and very young kids when Harry meets him, so he becomes a bit of an older brother to Harry [I hate when people give Harry no new friends in the Aurors, the man works there for a billion years]. The Potters are all friends with this other family, they have dinners together once in a while, the kids are invited to the others' birthdays, stuff like that

When Ginny plays for the Harpies he is the only guy in the group at parties. The only players with a partner are a couple of older married women that don't usually go to parties, all the younger girls are young and single so they basically adopt Harry as a brother and ask him for advice with the guys (to Ginny's great amusement and Harry's horror) but he actually grows into the role

As much as he hates to admit it, one thing he learns from hanging out with Quidditch players is how easier it is to be friends with other famous people than non-famous ones

He teaches his kids how to duel because he is paranoic and also there's nothing more Harry Potter-like than teaching your kids in borderline illegal ways despite being Head Auror

He has some quirks that come very clearly from being raised by Petunia, like being a bit of a neat freak. In general, he needs some things in the house to be done in a certain way

When he eventually retires, he picks up some cases here and there as a private investigator, mainly because I think it would be hilarious for him to be in competition with a department he led for years

In short, grandpa/great-grandpa/great-great-grandpa Harry has Harry's idea of a perfect life: he spends a lot of time with the grandchildren, he has his vegetable garden, he has fun solving only the more interesting mysteries, he goes to events to support his writer wife, and they have a fun trip once in a while

[mamuzzy-creates-stuff]

─── ･ I did so much this year.

I started this separate art blog back in january, and soon it will be one year old! Not sure about the exact date, but according to my pinned post, the anniversary is around 21th of january. I wonder if I should celebrate it somehow when the time comes. I'm not used to celebrate my own things, you know. I'm just doing my own stuff and feel very happy when my art touches you somehow or makes you laugh.

─── ･ Babysitting my boss

But overall I had a stable job and I was able to maintain my artistic hobbies too. Summer was difficult due to my senior co-worker (and kinda a mom-figure for me) going into medical leave due to cancer, so managing the restaurant alone with a boss who doesn't speak my own language and running official errands for them was stressful. But given that I was able to visit them few days ago in the restaurant, they have another ten years to stay in our country. :D So I did a good job with the managing, both the restaurant and their own life. I'm glad. <3

[ Please don't be like me, and make sure you maintain properly distanced workplace relationship with your co-workers and boss. Because normally, you shouldn't be responsible for their personal things.

I'm one with Borderline Personality Disorder. I'm pretty much susceptible for being used like this because I'm terrified of not being loved by the people I have to share space everyday. Making people disappointed is really difficult for me. ]

─── ･ Taking care of Mom

The last third of the year was difficult due to my Mom's condition is getting worse and I had to leave my job and leave my actual home to take care of her, but my Mom is well (considering the circumstances) - or more like stagnating. Not better but not worse. I decided to going home much frequently whenever I can, because my own mental and physical health has gone shit during this time.

[ Please don't be like me, and make sure you get ALL THE INFORMATION about the situation before you impulsively quit your job and leave your relatively healthy life behind, just because your sister is being dramatic about the possible death of your mom. ]

─── ･ Friends made it better

Thank your for being here all these difficult times.

My wonderful girlfriend and my tumblr friends made my november great by organizing an OrdoMaze themed surprise birthday party and I suddenly I was flooded with so much OrdoMaze fanfictions and artpieces I've never seen before from other people!!!

The happy high I got from your works made me go through the month. <3 And I also got so inpsired I actually started to work again on OrdoMaze related things, which hopefully I can present you next year. ^^

Thank you for thinking about me. Thank you for everyone who sent me good wishes. It made feel like I don't just exist just because someone decided to put me into this world. I was actually glad to exist.

─── ･ Possible plans for tumblr life

✦ Doing more art of course.

✦ Doing more fanfiction - with a twist :3 I won't tell yet. Nyehehe~

✦ Being more social: I have no idea how I will manage this. Being open about everything doesn't make me a social-person. But I definitely feel there is a wall between me and my followers for some reason. It would be nice to break it down.

Maybe occassional requests on special days? Valentines day is almost here after all.

✦ ...

✦ Fünf.

─── ･ HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Friends, Moots and followers, I wish you a good 2025, and I wish you would fulfill your goals you set right now.

I hope you will find happiness wherever you look.

I hope you will stay kind to yourself whenever an obstacle blocks your path to your goals.

I hope you will be able to beat the shit out of those obstacles. Just make sure you hide the body. Here is a shovel.

I wish you Happy New Year!

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - November 26th

I’m traveling this weekend (at this point I’ve been in the car about 5hrs and have another 8 to go today) so I asked for a few tropes to share fics from. Thanks so much to @ishipallthings & @iwillsinkwithmyships for their suggestions. 

As evere, please leave comment and kudos for your author. 

~*~ 

Bodyguard AUs: 

it goes like this -- by Areiton 

It goes like this, really--

He wants Tony. 

He wants him like he needs air to breath, wants to wipe away all the ones who came before him with mouth and tongue and bruise tight hands. 

He wants Tony and he’s terrified. 

I could lie tangent to your curves by RurouniHime 

Steve is bodyguard to a prominent young socialite with too much genius on his hands... and who has taken an unfortunate shine to him.

(Written for royal_chandler, who won the bid for my offer in Marvel Trumps Hate 2018.)

Triple-A Rated by iam93percentstardust 

Three assassination attempts in two weeks. That's gotta be some kind of record. Three attempts - and that doesn't even count the Ten Rings. Tony's pretty sure that Stane's trying to kill him again. Fury's pretty sure of the same thing, which is why he starts sending agents to protect him. It's just that Tony doesn't like any of his new bodyguards - except one.

Safety by CSHfic, VSfic 

The suit needs repairs, and Tony thinks he's being clever when he tells the Avengers that Iron Man is away on personal business...until Steve helpfully volunteers to be Tony's bodyguard in his place.

Historical AU 

Looking for Heaven by foxxcub

When young Lord Anthony Stark learns Steven Rogers has enlisted in the army, he thinks he's seen the last of his tiny, headstrong, haughty stable boy. But four years later, Lord Stark gets an unexpected visit from Steve, whose mother has fallen gravely ill and into financial ruin. Even more unexpected, Steve agrees to a shocking proposal: they will marry, giving Steve the necessary funds to save his mother, and Tony the much-needed reprieve from harassing would-be suitors. It is a business arrangement, nothing more. But as time goes on and circumstances arise, Tony begins to learn that keeping his heart away from his husband is easier said than done.

Maybe Tomorrow by scifigrl47

Tony Stark may well be the richest man in America. In the depths of the Great Depression, that's no small claim. When a plot is hatched for him to take in an orphan for a week, everyone knows it's a publicity stunt. No one knows it better than Officer Steve Rogers, but he's got a job to do, and he's going to do it. Doesn't mean he's going to approve.

Yes, it's an Annie AU.

Yes. That Annie.

Love Match by FestiveFerret

Tony had but one goal for the season: secure a marriage proposal from an alpha with the position and means enough to remove him from his father's house. Love was wholly irrelevant to the matter.

Peep Show by BladeoftheNebula

“Alright there, Sugar?” A voice came from behind him and he whipped around to see an omega with a little box of tokens. “You know you got to put one in to start right?”

Steve felt his face heat. “Yes ma’am. I was just uhh—“

“First timer?” He nodded and she gave him an encouraging smile. “Well, don’t worry, there’s glass behind the curtain, so the omegas can’t bite.” Then she winked. “That costs extra.”

Steve’s face got even hotter. He certainly wasn’t doing that.

Steve knew he wasn't any omega's first choice, or hell, even third. But what starts as a visit to a seedy Peep Show in Manhattan ends up changing his life for good.

An Inglourious Affair by morphia

In 1944, Steve's commando team, The Basterds, are off to fight nazis in France. Tony joins their efforts after intelligence suggests that Herr Kleiser, a German scientist, has set his sights on making a massive nuclear bomb. Their mission: Get to Kleiser before he completes his evil plan. What neither of them had planned for, however, was to fall in love in the middle of the worst war either of them had ever seen.

Mail Order Bride/Arranged Marriage 

Object: Matrimony by BladeoftheNebula

Omega Tony Stark craves adventure and an escape from the life his parents have planned for him in New York. He places a listing in a marriage catalogue to seek a match with an alpha out West, and Sheriff Steve Rogers answers his advertisement. But finding a nice alpha doesn't mean it's all smooth sailing from there...

I Whisper Your Name on Each Star I See Falling by JezebelGoldstone, littleblackbow

The day Natasha first told Steve her idea, he never would have dreamed that her fool notion would land him here: watching the train roll into the station and trying to wrap his mind around the fact that somewhere in there is the man who agreed to marry him.

Steve, an alpha farmer living outside a small town in the Rockies who doesn't want to admit how lonely he is, has been exchanging letters with omega Tony for nearly a year. When at last Tony arrives in Big Eden, Steve is confronted with the fact that he doesn't know Tony as well as he thought he did - and falls for him harder than a landslide anyway.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile) by starklystar

"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

[mrhaitch]

Hello hello Mr. Haitch!

I am seeking advice or perhaps an outside perspective on a certain matter. I've always wanted to pursue a writing career but I'm currently taking education due to my parents' influence. It's not really my cup of tea but I take what I am given.

Should I still pursue a career in writing even though I'll most likely not have professional training or education when it comes to it? I've always had a knack for it but I'm afraid my skill isn't as refined as it should be to make a living out of it (I am into creative writing).

I'm incredibly grateful for you response! I adore both you and Haitch very much!!!

Hey Anon. So sorry for the delay - Tumblr ate my first draft and then life got busy.

I can only give you my perspective here, drawn from my own experiences and the things I've seen and heard from other authors.

By writing career I'm going to assume you're talking about fiction - in which case you need a reliable and stable income. I'm not saying that to be mean, or bitter, or to taint your dreams; the reality for most of us is that writing does not pay, and if it does it does not pay well. As my PHD tutor once said "if writing is the vehicle to a better future, the novel is a fucking jalopy".

It took me ten years to get my first publication. Ten years where I wrote four novels and far more short fiction than I can accurately recall, and I went through the submission gauntlet for all of them. Everything I sent out into the world came back with a form rejection, except on three occasions. For each novel I submitted to maybe 40 or 60 agents, and almost never received a personalised reply (I'm actually friends with one who did, very nice guy). It was ten years of shouting down a well without so much as an echo for my efforts. When I finally did get published (short story), there was no payment.

In fact, at this point in time, writing has earned me nothing.

Agents and publishers work through thousands upon thousands of submissions, and only take a small handful forward. You're in direct competition for the attention of a very select few, against a vast multitude - and to make matters worse you're also up against that agent or publisher's boredom and disaffection after reading reams and reams of dreck. So that first impression has to be stellar, or they won't linger. It's a form rejection and back to the drawing board.

You will be rejected, and rejected often. Definitely more often than you're accepted - it can take years, decades, to get so much as a single, positive reply. Even then it might not lead to publication - it might be them saying how much they liked your work but are unable to place it at present. You have to learn to swallow that rejection every time, without losing heart or your cool, dust yourself off and do it again.

And again.

And again.

It's a Sisyphean task where the bolder typically rolls back over you, and gets stuck halfway up just to add insult to injury.

Again - I'm not trying to wreck your dreams, I'm just showing you what's behind the curtain. Everyone is tired and stressed and a little bit disappointed, and there's not enough money for everyone. The love of what you're doing has got to be enough, for now, maybe forever.

So I'm a big fan of writers having full-time jobs and careers. Doesn't matter what it is, so long as you're comfortable and secure. Do not expect the novel to love you back. Its a selfish and evil bastard but you can't help but love it.

[veephoenix]

This chapter contains a heavy scene involving substance abuse. Reader discretion is strongly advised. | Word count: 4.6k | Cross posted on AO3.| Series masterpost. ✧.*

If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health & their well-being, you are not alone and there is always someone willing to listen and help. Reach out and keep fighting. There's always a light at the end of the tunnel.

Fans crowded against the fences outside. I had been hearing them from inside for a while, sort of oblivious because all that was in my head was Lia’s broken voice telling me she was in love with me. 

            I stayed in for a while, maybe ten minutes, maybe thirty, wrapping my head around the news.

From the outside, things appeared to be business as usual. We had kicked off the tour with sold-out shows and the audiences were phenomenal. It was the dream we’d all had since we were kids come true. With all that euphoria and pride we were rejoicing in, nobody would have guessed what was going on behind closed doors. 

Jolly and the two Nick’s had gone out minutes earlier to sign some autographs and take pictures. I had been in the green room. 

After Lia left, I’d been left alone and paralyzed, processing her words as they replayed over and over in my head. 

            As I let myself out, some fans shrieked, and I heard the typical screams of surprise. I didn’t feel like being there, doing that, but it was part of my job and my commitment to the fans, and it didn’t matter that I felt like shit about the way things were with Lia, at the fact that I wasn’t in the green room with her wrapped around me. Despite everything, the fans had waited and welcomed me in a good mood. 

            Nearly ten minutes after I busied myself with signatures and pictures, we saw each other again. 

Lia came out through another door, distances from the bustling crowd, cigarette in hand, and when she heard the shouts of the fans calling my name, she turned her head in my direction.      We exchanged glances, the kind that said so much. There was longing in her eyes, sadness, and fear. The chill of the night accompanied our silent appraisal. It wasn’t just the physical space separating us, but the emotional ravines carved by the bridges we had burnt along the way. She took a drag, and she looked away as she opened her mouth to let the smoke out, keeping her melancholy hid inside, caged in the chambers of her heart. 

This was, by far, Lia’s worst year. 

She had lost her childhood to a negligent mother, and her idea of real love had been shattered at the hands of an abusive boyfriend. She had sought refuge in our friendship, and we, scarred as we were, inadvertently allowed ourselves to be vulnerable, to be… raw and unshielded with each other. And we had ruined the only stable anchor we had clung to for most of our lives. 

As the clock edged closer to midnight later that night and everyone gathered in the bar in the ground floor of the hotel, it was difficult to believe that the night would turn into the longest one of our lives.  

We had been drawn together towards the glowing ambience of the hotel bar after we had changed and cleaned up after our return from the show’s venue. I didn’t want to be there. I had aimed towards the elevator as soon as we entered the hotel lobby, but Nicholas, always aware of what to say to get me to give in, had convinced me to follow him and the others. 

I sat down in a stool by the counter, uninterested in whatever was going on around me. I ordered a beer and didn’t even pay attention to the conversation initiated by Bryan and Matt next to me. Nevertheless, despite the melancholy I was carrying, I refrained from casting shadows over the rest of the group. I minded my own business and let them enjoy the night. Even Lia was tucked away in some corner, trying to get caught in the energy that permeated the air. 

I was swallowing the last gulp of the second beer of the night when Nicholas decided to give me some of his time. I was leaning over the counter, engrossed in the hypnotic dance of the vanishing foam at the base of the beer glass. 

Nick patted me on the back. 

“I know you’re upset about Lia,” he said in a low voice, making sure that the words stayed between us. “But Noah, I think it’s time you move on,” his voice cut through the bar's symphony, the clinking of glasses and the distant laughs. “We’re all trying to help her. What happened between you both will pass. You can’t drown yourself in your sorrow just because she doesn’t lo—”

“She does,” I interjected, interrupting his well-intentioned counsel. “Earlier. We talked. She told me she’s in love with me.”

Nicholas furrowed his brows and glanced behind me, as if trying to make sense of what I just told him.

“I don’t understand,” he replied. 

“She’s scared,” I continued, my gaze fixed on the glass cradled in one of my hands. “I’d be too, with her past. Everyone that was supposed to love her didn’t. That’s why she’s so apprehensive about us being together, I guess.”

Nick didn’t need to tell me anything regarding that. I knew he understood. Despite of it, he pressed for more details. “Did you tell her that you...?”

“I wasn’t very specific, I think,” I confessed, my words hanging in the ambient buzz of the bar and the stupid music playing in the background. “But she’s stubborn as fuck, and she won’t let us give it a chance.”

“That’s just... Noah, I seriously don’t understand.”

“What is it so hard to understand?” That’s when I raised my voiced and finally looked at him. The exasperation inside of me was reaching its limits, with everything and everyone. “Love is fucking complicated, man. I wish someone would have told me this when I was seven years old and I saw her by herself on the sidewalk, pulling at the grass growing from the fucking concrete. Maybe I would have done things differently.”

That have been a recurring thought in my head the last weeks. Did I regret every twist and turn that had brought Lia and me here, to this point? I couldn’t see a future for us. I could imagine it, I could imagine how it would be to have her all to myself, to pursue our dreams, create a family, maybe, grow old together. But I couldn’t really see it happening. My mind was an intricate maze of conflicting emotions that remained in disarray. Not even my therapist knew how to sort me out. I needed something to happen to give me clarity, for I was losing my fucking mind. I just never in a million years would have expected it to be what was about to come in less than an hour. 

“I’m talking about her flirting with that woman on the other side of the bar.”

What? 

I swiveled on the stool, my eyes scanning the crowded expanse of the bar. Lia stood near a wall. Beside her, a woman probably a few years older than her, with black hair and piercing blue eyes, scrutinized Lia with a gaze filled with desire. The worst part? Lia reciprocated. A surge of fiery fire ignited within me, and I was moving towards her in a second. 

No, she wasn’t allowed to do this to me. Not anymore.

I pushed past a few people on the way, earning discontented murmurs and yells from the crowd. 

Lia’s laugh echoed in my ears as I reached her. 

“Excuse me,” I said, redirecting the older woman’s attention with a polite yet firm tone. Lia was taken aback by my intrusion into the scene and pivoted to meet my gaze. “I need you.” I declared with an unspoken plea in my eyes.  

It was the other woman who replied, as Lia didn’t expect me to interrupt whatever was going on there and was startled by my presence. 

“Hello,” the woman greeted. She was taller than she looked from the bar counter, and her accent was definitely not American. “Who are you?”

“Noah,” I replied, a note of possessiveness seeping into my tone, and then, “the one she’s in love with, so if you don’t mind, I need her.”

I touched Lia’s elbow, ready to pull her with me far away from that stranger, who was registering my assertion with raised eyebrows and an air of disbelief. She directed her blue scrutiny toward Lia. It just took her one look at Lia to know I wasn’t lying. 

“Are you?” She asked Lia, punctuating the question with a discerning gaze. 

So much for a fun flirt, isn’t it, Lia?

Lia just stood there with her lips parted and cheeks flushed. She looked at me once, and I waited to see if she would lie. 

She didn’t. The woman cast her an awry expression, a blend of disappointment and anger. She grabbed a glass with some cocktail from a wall rack not far and retreated into the crowd, shaking her head. Lia and I followed her a few seconds until we turned to each other.

“How dare you?” She exclaimed. 

As I looked deep into her eyes, I felt a small relief at the knowledge that she wasn’t drunk, but that only fueled my anger at the fact that she had engaged in that flirtation on purpose.  

“How dare you?!” I repeated, my words a torrent of incredulity and frustration. “You tell me that you love me and two hours later you’re here flirting with a stranger? What game are you playing? This is not you.”

“I’m not playing any game,” Lia protested, swallowing at the mention of her feelings. “I’m just… trying to forget.”

“And is it working?” I wondered out loud. “Because I tried it, and it definitely doesn’t for me.”

She didn’t say anything. She remained silent, her eyes scanning mine, trying to see what was there. Then she let her head fall, giving up. 

“Can you let it be, please?” It was a soft plea. She didn’t know where to look.

“No, I don’t let it be. We’ve been there for each other since forever. Months ago, everything that happened to you was my business, if not, check the calls you were making. I understand that you’re hurt, that you’re still coping with what that motherfucker did to you, and then we…”

“No. Please, no.” 

“Lia,” I grabbed one of her hands and squeezed her fingers. “Are you really going to deny yourself everything you feel and repress it with alcohol and those drugs prescribed by your therapist? Look, I know you’re scared. I am, too, but the idea of not having you in my life terrifies me more,” I confessed, desperation lacing my words.

“You still have me,” she whispered, big wide eyes looking back up at me. “Even if we’re not who we used to be.”

“That’s now how I want it,” I replied to her. “And not how you want it, either. Aren’t you tired of fighting it? Of pretending? Because I am. I’m tired of pretending that I’m okay with this, that I don’t miss you, that I don’t crave you.” The last words came out as a growl that I hadn’t intended. 

“Noah, stop.”

“No, Lia. I can’t stop. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about how good it felt to slide between your legs and sink myself deep inside of you. I can’t get your little moans and the way you said my name in that raspy voice out of my head. And I know that you can’t either. You can’t keep fooling me. And I wish to fuck that you would stop being scared and let me k—.”

She cut me off by grabbing a fistful of my shirt and slamming her mouth on mine. 

I threw away all logical thought. I grabbed her face in my palms and let all my senses focus on her. 

She kissed me with urgency, with such desperation that I could feel her pain, for it mirrored mine. It made me nearly lose my mind the way she put her soul into the kiss, her little sounds telling me how much she had fought this, and how tired she was now. She surrendered to the moment. 

Her left hand still gripped my shirt, anchoring herself, while the other was pressed against my stomach. I felt her getting on her tiptoes, and I sunk myself deeper into the kiss, tilting my head to the side so that I’d have better access to her mouth. I had wanted this for so long. My thumb caressed her cheek, wanting to memorize the feeling of her skin beneath my touch.  

Time stood still for as long as our kiss lasted, the world around melting away. Every doubt and fear harbored melted away in the warmth of it, or so I thought. I felt courageous, like I finally had her, like I finally had put some sense into her with my words and she was finally ready to accept that we were made for each other and that there was a future waiting for us. 

I pushed her back towards the wall. When her body pressed against it, my body sought hers, her embrace, her scent, her familiarity. Lia was home.

I covered her not only with my mouth but with every inch of my body. I was dying to be back in the comfort of a house, wrapped in her arms, just the two of us and the sounds we stole from each other. 

The kiss moved to a cautious, slow pace. Every sensation of her taste and warmth enveloped my senses, consuming me entirely. In that moment, she became my world—everything I could feel, hear, smell, and touch. I was lying. She had been my entire world for as long as I could remember. 

The moment I started to feel her grip on my t-shirt beginning to loosen was the same moment I felt the coldness of her tears touching my face. Despite the gentle dance of our mouths, her movements had gone still. Something was off.  

Reluctantly, I pulled back and opened my eyes. Lia’s tears traced a path down her cheeks, leaving a glistening trail under the lights in the room. Her lips, still swollen and wet, carried a light tremble, and her eyes were shiny in the dark, but watery all the same. 

“Hey,” I whispered. I moved back and bent down a little to look her straight in the face. My thumbs wiped away the tears staining her cheeks with tender strokes. She closed her eyes and sniffled, and I felt her begin to surrender again to my touch, but a second later she shook her head so lightly that I wasn’t sure if I saw it. 

“I can’t, Noah.” 

What I would have given to enter her mind, delve into her thoughts, fight whatever was there that was telling her that this was wrong, that this was an unnecessary risk, that we were meant to be doomed. 

Helplessness washed over me; I didn’t have the key to free her from every single thing that had twisted in her past. I remembered that night many years ago, when she came to my bed because she had had a nightmare. She told me her mother had assured her that she would drown, that no one would be there to hold her hand. 

I reached out to her and gently clasped her wrist. She stopped for a second. Her other hand touched my hand, her fingers grazing the skin on the back of it, then she pried herself open and walked away. 

An hour later, I was still sitting in the same stool where I had started the night, gulping down another beer. I wasn’t drunk. Far from it. Maybe it was that I was too aware of what was going on that alcohol couldn’t affect me anymore, and I hated it for it. It wasn’t my intention either to get drunk and forget. I had just been standing in front of Lia merely fifty minutes ago telling her exactly not to do that. I wanted to feel everything. I was just drinking for the sake of doing something instead of screaming and banging my head against a wall. 

            I was about to order a glass of whiskey on the rocks even before I finished my beer when my phone started buzzing in the pocket of my jeans, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw Lia’s name on the screen. However, I didn’t sound any excited when I answered the call. 

I heard a sniff coming from the other side.

“Noah… I’m sorry…”

“I know,” I replied wearily. I couldn’t hide my exhaustion, how drained I was. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t. It was far from fine but I didn’t have it in me to say anything else. I was tired. I took another gulp of beer, hoping to find solace at the bottom of the glass. 

“I’m…” Lia began, her words hanging in the air. 

“It’s ok,” I said before she continued. “You don’t have to say anything else.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“But… Noah, I’m…” Her voice wavered. I could tell she was struggling. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want… I think— I think I… I need help.”

That’s when my alarms went off. The urgency, the desperation in her plea was far from right.  That was an honest ask for help, and that wasn’t usual from her. I straightened up on the stool.  

“Are you alright?”

“Please, help me.” She was about to cry, and I had never heard her so scared, not even when I discovered that Mitch had been abusing her and I insisted that she leave his house and came home with me.  

“Lia, what’s going on?”

A few steps from me, Jolly and Nicholas heard my concerned voice amidst the music and spotted the worried lines crossing my face. 

“I was scared and I took…” I heard Lia swallowing hard on the other side of the line. “I took… I don’t feel good. Please, can you come?”

As her voice faded away, my heartbeat sped up. 

“Lia, where are you?” By the time I asked the question, I was already on my feet. 

“Room,” her voice was a mere whisper that I would’ve had trouble deciphering if it wasn’t for the obviousness of her location. 

“Okay. I’m coming right now. Can you tell me what you took?”

She didn’t need to tell me. I could make out a rough idea, and it terrified me. The image of that little medication bag she kept with her, full of pills and other substances, came to my mind and a knot formed in the pit of my stomach. 

“Noah…”

“Yes. I’m here. What is it? Lia, you have to tell to me.”

“I’m…” Her voice grew drowse. She sounded sleepy. She was drifting away.  

“Lia. Lia, hey. Hey! Stay with me. I’m coming.”

I motioned urgently for Jolly to follow, patting him on the back. Folio and Nick, sensing the urgency, joined us. As we hurried through the reception hall, Jolly called out to me just as I was about to jump up the stairs, opting to fuck the slow elevators.

“Do you have a key to Lia’s room?” He asked. 

“No.”

Panic gripped me.

Fuck.

Jolly rushed to the reception and asked for a key. The woman behind the counter, a young girl full of make up and hair all pinned up, told him she was not allowed to do so. Jolly and Nick told her Lia was with us, that she was part of the band’s crew, she was our friend, our family. This was an emergency. The lady kept on rambling bureocratic bullshit until Iapproached her, frustration boiling over, and screamed at her to give me the fucking keys.

It must have been my expression which spoke louder than the volume of the order, because she complied and handed me a copy of Lia’s room’s key with a shaky hand. 

I put the phone back to my ear. 

“Lia, are you there? Can you hear me?”

All I could hear was a disconcerting white noise, then a sound that I recognized as a phone falling on the carpeted floor of the hotel room. 

“Lia!”

Each word echoed through the narrow hallway as I ascended the stairs with hurried, long strides. The resonance of our footsteps was a backdrop to the relentless pounding of my heart against the cage of my chest. 

I reached Lia’s hotel room and unlocked the door with the cardkey. The scene before me sent a shockwave through my senses. 

She was on the floor, laying by the side of the bed. 

My legs carried me to her side, and I fell to my knees. I scooped her up in my arms, cradling her fragile form and calling her name. With trembling fingers, I brushed aside the strands of hair obscuring her face. Her eyes were closed, and she was so pale. 

The boys were talking behind me, saying something while doing an effort to maintain their composure, too, but the overwhelming emotions threatened to engulf us all. 

My gaze fell upon the empty blisters scattered on the bedside table and strewn across the floor. The reality of the situation pierced through the haze of fear and shock, and it was then that I became acutely aware of my own tears, silently streaming down my face in tandem with the tumult of emotions that surged within me.

I told Jolly to call an ambulance, ignorant to the fact that he had already done so. Nicholas was slumped against a wall, looking at Lia in my arms, and Folio was standing by the door, holding his head with his hands. 

“Lia,” I gently shook her, praying for her to wake up. “Lia, baby. I’m here. Stay with me, yeah?”

I clung to her, cradling her form against my chest. The fear of losing her tightened its grip on my soul. I wouldn’t let her go.

“Noah?” Her voice, feeble, made my heart take a halt. Hearing my name coming from her lips brought a smile to my face despite the tears that still flowed down. A bittersweet relief washed over me as her brown eyes struggled to focus on my face.  

Lia blinked a few times, confused, disoriented.

“Hey, beautiful. Hey. I’m here. I told you I would come, didn’t I?”

“Noah, I’m sorry,” she said, her trembling lips betraying her.  

“Shh. It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine, I promise.” Leaning in, I pressed a gentle kiss to her sweat-drenched forehead. 

“I…” Her words faltered, and I sensed another wave of pain pulling us down. 

Panic took over me again as I saw her slipping away. I shook her frail body. 

“Hey. Hey, stay awake, don’t fall asleep,” I urged, swallowing my own tears and the lump in my throat. “Stay with me. Can you tell me how many of those did you take?”

“I don’t…” Her voice trailed off, darkness threatening to take her. 

“No, no falling asleep, Lia. Keep your eyes open, please. Please, Lia.”

As the seconds ticked by, she was gripped by muscle spasms that turned into convulsions. Her eyes shut; her body went limp in my arms. Terror froze me momentarily. When I saw the foam coming out of her mouth my paralysis was shattered. 

I screamed her name, the echoes reverberating through the room, a guttural cry for help directed at Jolly, Nicholas, and Nick, at whoever was in the hallway that could help us.

My world felt apart as I clutched Lia in my arms, realizing, as time slowed down, that I was losing her. I was suddenly in a suffocating prison, trapped in a nightmare. She was slipping away like grains of glittering sand through my trembling fingers. I was seized by desperation, clawing at my heart. My breath came in ragged gasps. My senses ignored the distant sound of footsteps, the flickering light casting shadows across the walls. I could only fight to feel the heartbeat of the one I couldn’t bear to lose. The fragile red thread that my grandma had talked about so many times was threatening to snap at any second, condemning me to a reality where Lia was gone. 

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3653

today marks ten years since i started these entries.

the day i started was august 7th, 2014.

today is august 7th, 2024.

it doesn't feel like it's been all that long at all.

as i made this realization this morning, i was able to spend the day and think about how i've changed over the last ten years, about the things that have happened, about the person i've become. about what i would say to me ten years ago.

the long and short of it is this:

i grew up.

and i don't like thinking about it that way because that means my childhood is long gone, never to return. that everything from here on out is going to be hard.

so as i sit here crying, mourning that loss that i will never truly recover from, i also reflect on the personal growth i've made.

i have less tolerance for bullshit and i'm not afraid to have opinions. i found a group of people who love me for who i am and not what i can do for them. yes i am living paycheck to paycheck, but i no longer consider myself completely broke. i've gotten better at managing my time and my money. i've earned not one, not two, but three separate degrees, the highest of which was earned from a prestigious university. i have a close relationship with my sister. i've reconnected with some high school friends. i've lost so many other friends due to circumstances i was unwilling to accept any longer. i've loved and lost, but i'm happy to have loved. and even now, i have a partner who i've been with for more than half of the decade! and it's been wonderful.

i've had a dozen different jobs in different industries, i've used my knowledge to help people in a lot of places. i've made friends with people across the world and i've seen people blossom into who they're truly meant to be. and i know that everyone is a work in progress. so am i.

i'm not quite done yet. i'm almost ready to come out of the oven.

and maybe the closet, too.

in all of my thoughts today, the ones that have stood out the most have been of how i treat other people and my mental health. over the years, i've seen people from high school who i didn't really spend time around because they were in the "popular" crowd. i instantly recognized them. they were probably too busy to even try to think of where they might've known my face from. but i've learned that it's important to treat people with kindness, respect, and love, regardless of your personal history with them. that everyone deserves respect and dignity, regardless of who they are. of course, even i have my limits, but those who are out of the limits of my patience and care are usually bigots, fascists, neo-nazis, and any combination of things including any of those parts.

and my mental health - what a difference. it's night and day for how it is in my head. being properly medicated and stable and KNOWING that's it's more than "just depression" or "just anxiety" and having a therapist who understands all of it? it's a game-changer. it's great.

what i would tell myself ten years ago would be mostly about how it ends up and the process of getting there. you end up stable. you get a therapist who you love and who helps you get to the root of the trauma you don't even realize you have yet. you have people who love you more than you even know. people love you for who you are, mental illnesses, disabilities, and all. you take up crafting and d&d and playing games. you meet someone adorable and hilarious and he makes your days brighter. you lose your faith and your friends, but after all the anger and grief, you come out stronger than you ever thought you could be. and despite all of the horrors you see in the world, you're still softer than you think. you count bunnies on the way into work. you cry over your waitress, begging the universe to let her smile freely. you smile at and wave to a perfect stranger who doesn't speak your language on your way back to your car, even after a long day.

there's a lot of pain, yes.

but there is so much more beauty than you can possibly imagine.

see it. feel it. embrace it.

but most importantly, share it.

[merge-conflict]

✒️ writer interview tag

tagged by @luvwich 😼 and definitely didn't forget about this for almost a week

When did you start writing?

I think I was writing self-insert naruto fanfiction when I was 12 lol. After high school I stopped writing for about ten years, and finally picked it up again in 2020 when I was unemployed.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I don't think so- I mostly read SFF but everything I read that I like ends up thrown into my writing in some way or another. I've been wanting to expand into maybe not other themes/genres but other forms of writing? Games writing has a lot of interesting things like handling branching paths & worldbuilding/contextual/found note stuff that I think I would enjoy but I'm not quite there yet.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

No one has ever compared me to writers that I'm aware of and there's no one that I specifically emulate. However after writing a fair amount and then re-reading some of my favored books I can see where I've picked up bits of style. Recently I noticed some stuff from Gillian Flynn and Ann Leckie that I realize I do in my writing as well. I guess for me it's less emulating or channeling a writer than wanting to use one of their tools that I admire, if that makes sense?

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I don't have a writing space per se. When I was really ill I wrote in bed, sometimes I write in my home office. Sometimes I'm standing, sitting, laying down. Most often I have a little lap desk and I'll be in the living room on the couch, either on my laptop or writing on paper.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Annoyingly if I'm not already plagued by something then resting for a while usually brings on a muse. If I'm healthy and emotionally stable then there's usually something scratching at the back of my head that is inspiring me to write. If not, well- then I'm probably not going to get much done or be able to summon a muse.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Oh boy, yeah. Lots of transgender and identity adjacent stuff. Learning to live with what you have and maybe even like it. Being horny at inopportune times. Characters being forced to consider what they want and maybe even ask for it to turn their lives around. How life is so goddamn weird and messy and beautiful. None of it is surprising in general but I do sometimes get blindsided in editing by how yet again I've managed to hit the same theme (but it feels good!)

What is your reason for writing?

If I don't get the words and the stories out of me I get sick.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

People telling me they want to read more is always really motivating! I also get extremely chuffed if someone says they've had a similar idea to what I had or had read a character the same way- it's like knowing that someone else wants to see the story play out and I need to keep writing it.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I'm just a silly little guy who is also handsome and perfect (and humble).

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I work really hard on balance in writing, and I feel like I do a pretty good job with that one a strategic and tactical level. Things like allowing some time to breathe, and then having moments where things are chaos. Or the tone of a chapter- putting a little laughter in grief, or a some sadness in joy to enhance the flavor. :3

How do you feel about your own writing?

I'm so glad I started writing again, and I'm so glad I never gave in to the early desire to delete everything I didn't like. Mostly how I feel is that it's so much fun, and it's satisfying to write, and I feel like I'm learning on the go. I reread my stuff a lot because it's for *me* and I love it even with its flaws. I made that!

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

I write mostly for myself, although obviously like everyone else I also want everyone else to enjoy it (mostly in the sense that since I like it I think everyone else should too lol). But I realize that's not practical and that's okay too- like I said, I reread my own stuff and enjoy it so while I'm of course always looking for ways to collab or share with others it's really me following my heart.

Not tagging because I'm late to the game and I'm not sure who's already been asked or played. But as always an open tag to anyone who wants to play :3 tag me back so I can read your interview!

[liskantope]

Okay, so here's the review of the Netflix limited series Maid that I said I might write (for whatever interest anyone has in it, as I'm guessing that almost none of my followers have seen Maid and I doubt this post will particularly entice anyone to see it). I've held off reading any reviews of it so as not to color my opinion.

The best I can say about Maid is that I found it somewhat educational; it was engaging; and I got to care enough about the story and some of the characters to keep watching through the ten episodes. But I otherwise found it mediocre and very flawed, though flawed in interesting ways which I think were part of what kept me watching. (Interesting enough to make a very long post, apparently.) Maybe it doesn't help that I watched it straight after finishing Six Feet Under, a truly fantastic series, and Maid was recommended to me by the same person in just as enthusiastic a tone but seemed quite meh in immediate comparison.

(Vague spoilers immediately to follow; more specific spoilers later below the cut.)

Maid is about a young woman named Alex with an almost-three-year-old daughter who has just run away from an abusive living situation with her boyfriend and is struggling to find a way out of crippling poverty to get a stable and safe life for her and her child. The tone of deliberately directly educating the audience is sprinkled throughout a good bit (though by no means all) of the script, which contributes to the "meh"-ness but which I appreciated as education, mainly of how the social services system works as well as how one gets and sustains a job as a maid doing cleaning work for different homes. (I do like the unspoken symbolism of cleaning up other people's messes as both an occupation and as the general pattern of her personal life.) An example of this "clearly written to educate" aspect to the script is all the dialog specifying the concept of "emotional abuse". (As a sidenote, I have my doubts about whether the boyfriend Sean's behavior can really be rounded off specifically to emotional abuse, which I have generally understood to mean "manipulating emotionally with words, like for instance to make the other person feel worthless, or threats of violence": some of that was going on but a lot of it was Sean scaring Alex with violent behavior (though not actually striking her) which makes her feel physically threatened, making it impossible for Alex to work or have basic adult-levels of control of her day-to-day life, etc. Sean's behavior prior to the start of the story and later is seriously abusive, but I'm not sure that the severe controllingness, just because it's not directly physical abuse, should be categorized as emotional abuse instead. Maybe I'm wrong and could find out by research that emotional abuse is defined as all abuse that isn't physical or something.)

The show mixed the modern fast-paced style of comedy with wacky side characters together with the overall drama of the situation in a way that, well, I suppose could have been done much worse. I often was able to predict the "beats" and specific plot turns just because I recognized them from tropes of standard American sitcoms and slightly soapy dramas.

Some characters are developed fairly well in my opinion (like Alex's mania-prone mother), but others are developed sketchily and inconsistently (like Sean, despite his central position in the story, or like Alex's dad who turns out to have some parallel faults to Sean's). The writers were clearly going for making Sean a nuanced character who has a nice side when he's sober but intersperses that with controlling, hateful behavior on top of his violent rages. I understand intellectually that a person can be that way, and in fact if they made Sean out to be a monster all the time I would be criticizing the writers for lack of nuance in characterization. But for reasons I can't entirely put my finger on, for the first two thirds or so of the series I found something piecemeal and not very believable about how Sean was coming across.

It's notable to me that ultimately every single female character winds up being vindicated as a wonderful and sympathetic badass (really only Alex's mother is the one that retains serious flaws and even she in the end is extremely sympathetic), while every single male character winds up coming across as a horrible person. Okay, so some would say that Nick (quickly and predictably established as Alex's main romantic interest apart from Sean) doesn't qualify as a bad guy -- in fact, he's implausibly saintly almost throughout -- but eventually he (in another predictable beat) decides his niceness is going to come to an end and is dropped completely from the rest of the story, I think the only major character whose interactions don't get tied up in a neat knot at the end. I honestly don't mind the "all women are amazing, all men are awful" outcome as much as I'd have thought I might. The main social theme of the show, besides poverty, is domestic violence after all, and while I do wish feminists didn't tend to depict it as so exclusively male-to-female in nature, I didn't particularly expect this show to be exceptional in breaking out of that.

I will also give the show credit for elevating class issues above race issues, having a diverse cast without mentioning race once apart from Alex's internal monologues about feeling like "white trash", having the rich character who eventually befriends Alex being a black woman, etc., particularly during 2021, a time in the wake of George Floyd when the overall social discourse ethos was very pressuring to Make Everything About Race All The Time.

Alex is not an inconsistently or sketchily -written character, but I would say that she's... not really a developed character at all, so much as a blank slate marked by all the complicated and difficult situations she's put in. Her programming basically consists of "be completely sympathetic at all times in all decisions she makes, and be incredibly competent at everything she tries to do" and then seeing how she goes when tons of adversity from all directions is thrown at her. I realize this is a very dehumanizing way to talk about someone, but I'm approaching her in her capacity as a fictional character consciously created by writers, and I think she was created in a sort of empty way. Oh sure, she has some vulnerabilities, and she makes like a couple of mistakes (one of them a very big one: see below cut) but always the mistake even a wise person would kind of have to make in her situation. This, more than any other aspect of the show, is what differentiates it in my view from a truly great show like Six Feet Under. Eventually some non-externally-determined personality shows through, as we see that Alex has a flair for writing, but it still comes across to me as "the writer decided on a talent for Alex to have so that she can wind up with a hopeful future".

What (in some sense deep down kind of) bothers me most about Alex's characterization is that she's just so consistently hyper-competent at doing absolutely everything she tries to do and doing it all at once while being a perfect mother to her three-year-old. I don't criticize this as unrealistic, since I actually do know people (one of them who similarly successfully struggled out of an absolutely daunting level of poverty and lack of support) like this; they are the sort of people I've bitterly described as so many more times productive than I am that they appear to have superpowers. But the show did leave me wondering, is Alex's outcome really that typical? Don't most people in her situation do several times worse at trying to get out of it, because most people have several times less competence/neurotypicality/ability not to mention a particular talent like Alex's talent for writing? And then there's the fact that, after the first half of the series highlights all the dysfunctions of The System, later in the series all these things rather implausibly abruptly fall into place for Alex. It seems ultimately calculated for good-feels rather than gritty likelihood. And, I mean, it is refreshing for not every show with obvious social justice messages to go what we might call "the Orange is the New Black route" where we have to make sure that not too much comes out okay for the characters because then we might be implying that sometimes justice actually does get done. But I see issues with both extremes here.

An interesting note: in Alex's big cathartic confrontation scene with Sean, she tells him that she has PTSD from his treatment of her, but I noticed no evidence whatsoever on screen that she had symptoms of PTSD. (There is some strong hinting of PTSD from childhood due to her father's behavior, in fact, but not from adulthood.) And just as strangely, it's never mentioned again. (As anyone here who knows my views might guess, I'm not terribly happy about this because the writers / Alex seem to be saying that having PTSD is an automatic aspect of surviving domestic abuse and that we don't need to bother to have an actual concrete definition/description for PTSD -- of course, I suppose someone who had gone through what Alex had gone through might well wind up with some kind of PTSD, but show it, please, and don't imply that it's just an automatic meaningless default.)

Anyway, not only is Alex hyper-competent, but her kid is kind of a perfect kid even at barely three years old while rolling with the very turbulent punches of Alex's chaotic life (which involves not knowing whose roof they'd sleep under from day to day). Oh, I think once it comes up that she has issues sometimes with being told that she has to get off the swing at the playground, or something. Let's just say, I know plenty enough about myself at that age to say I would not handle the chaos and instability one tenth as well and that I (and honestly most kids) might be quite visibly damaged by the end of it.

Anyway. Now for the writing at the end which killed a lot (though not all) of the respect I still had for the show. This will be more specifically spoilery regarding Alex and Sean's relationship, so is placed under the cut.

The basic synopsis of Alex/Sean is as follows. Alex and Sean, right up to the start of the series, were in an abusive relationship in which Sean had developed a violent temper whenever he was drunk, never striking her or their child but punching and destroying things near her. She decided she had enough the night the story begins, when she had to pick pieces of glass out of her daughter's hair, and runs away with the kid. It's later revealed that Sean had cut off her credit card some time earlier after she had missed a payment, so there were multiple forms of abuse going on here.

Sean manages to temporarily secure full custody of their daughter. Then he shows a better side of himself in a scene where he confesses that he needs to clean his act up and drops the claim of full custody, leaving them with equal custody. Sean manages to get sober for a while, and he and Alex have their ups and downs as co-parents. Then, in a moment of (very understandable) weakness, after Sean is super helpful to Alex when a separate crisis comes up, Alex sleeps with Sean (fulfilling another trope I have noted before), grows to trust him again, and gradually drifts towards getting back together with him.

Sean's run of acting like an angel ends very abruptly when he gets very upset over the fact that Alex just got awarded a scholarship to go to college in another state; in the next few hours he very deliberately gets rid of Alex's one mode of independent transportation giving a BS excuse and physically intimidates her when she protests (it's ambiguous but it seems not unreasonable to assume that there's no alcohol in the house at this time and he hasn't had a drink). Sean then goes back to drinking, effectively imprisons Alex in their house (her feeling of completely losing her sense of self is artfully depicted through images of her sinking into dark, deep holes), doesn't let her have a phone or a job or any access to money, and controls her every move. This is the kind of "on the bottle" behavior I was thinking of in these posts which I'm afraid tells me something pretty awful about a person even if they were to become permanently sober.

Then through a implausibly perfect sequence of fortunate developments, Alex escapes, gets a fancy lawyer to help her pro bono to gain full custody of the kid, and gains some promise of a good future. At first Sean reacts predictably badly, but then he has a revelation that he really needs to get clean in order to be a fit father and so relinquishes his claim to custody. He makes a confession to Alex's face very similar to the one he made earlier in the season (I note, never concretely naming or apologizing for the extremely abusive things he recently did to Alex, just owning up again to the fact that he can't be a parent until he's sober), and in that very conversation, offers for Alex to stop by his house to pick up their daughter's stuff, which Alex agrees on the spot to do (that's right, cheerfully walk back into the house that was your prison last time you were there -- oh and you mentioned you have PTSD from it, by the way -- alone with the man who imprisoned you). In their next scene together, Alex is leaving for college with their daughter, and she warmly tells Sean he can come visit their daughter whenever he wants, to which Sean earnestly vows to get permanently sober and visit tons. It's played as a really nice ending to the turbulent relationship between them.

Obviously the writer wasn't going to be dumb enough to have Alex and Sean get back together again in their happy ending, but man does Sean get off way too easy in this ending, and if I don't find that this decision was harshly criticized in multiple reviews, I'll be tempted to conclude that the aggressive 2010's-era form of internet feminism is truly dead (which, I shouldn't be complaining, but... it did made some good points?).

Again, the rationale seems to be that, well, Sean is a monster when drunk but great when sober, so if he promises to be sober, sure, warmly let him back into your lives. The thing is, number one, he promised to clean up his act earlier in the series and look how that turned out half a series later. And two, when Sean turned back into an abuser (an even worse one than before) near the climax of the story, I thought that was quite good writing, and that Sean's true character was finally coming together: his being so nice beforehand seemed partly just an effort to win Alex back, and once he (mostly) did, the moment she later upset him, he reverted right back to his old ways and showed his true self that had been hidden underneath the whole time and only needed to be triggered. That seemed like the overwhelmingly obvious interpretation at the time, but I guess the interpretation the writers are nudging us towards is that he was genuinely unselfishly good while sober, not trying to weave Alex back into his web or anything, and then started acting like a monster when he went back to drinking, and the solution is just to not let himself drink so that he can be a great person. It doesn't sit well with me, and that's what spurred me to write my posts of last night asking about what "good person when sober, bad person when drunk" really means.

(Disclaimer to all of this: I remembered halfway through writing this surprisingly long post that the series is based on a novel, and maybe the nuances Sean and Alex's relationship are better written in the novel version.)