#oh that's right i like to avoid my real-life responsibilities

[dronningreid]

Between letters.

When reader has been acting weird lately, Reid thinks she's going to break up with him but she's actually terrified because she has to give him some life-changing news.

who? Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

category: angst/fluff

warnings: Reid is hopeless, reader is a little mean because she doesn't know how to deal with the stress of her secret. Both must work on their communication. English is not my first language (if i forget something let me know, this is my first time doing this)

word count: 2.6K

a/n: Hello! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read what i wrote with so much love. I have written books, stories, poems but never a fanfic and i must admit that i enjoyed this a lot. Well, without further ado i hope you enjoy this and let me know if you liked it.

It is said that we should wait for good things. But it is so difficult to wait for them when we find ourselves in such a deep abyss, where we believe that the only thing we need is that warm ray of joy to get us out of the pond, to save us from dying in agony.

Spencer needed that warm ray of joy after Maeve's death. He desperately needed to feel alive again, but he had to wait what seemed like an eternity for you to come into his life.

Yet every devastating event like that leaves wounds that bleed into scars, some take perhaps too long and as the blood pours out, it destroys hope.

That's what happened to Reid. Because the day Maeve died, his hopes of having a wife and children, of having a family, died with her…

You came along a couple of years later. You admit that winning Spencer over was something that took time, it was slow but it was worth every second.

You were also thankful that he wasn't like the other jerks you dated before, who thought you would die for them just because you were the one who made the first move.

And that was the difference between you and Spencer. You never let that get you down, you kept trying until you found the one. Who knew it would be someone with three PhDs? Your trusted tarot reader, duh. But you didn't believe it, the guy seemed too perfect to be real.

But there he was, spinning around in his swivel chair when you first walked into the BAU bullpen.

"Who is he?" you asked with a curiosity you hadn't experienced in years.

"Oh, that's Spencer. One of our resident geniuses." The sweet Penelope Garcia cleared up your doubts.

Spencer.

The name tasted so sweet on your lips, it sounded so right. That was the day you decided he would be for you.

Of course you needed some extra help. You were trying to win over someone who hadn't dated in a long time and was also a bit reserved. Luckily for you, Morgan's advice scared him off so you followed JJ's, although it also helped that he was definitely mhm curious? about you.

Well no, he actually thought you were a little crazy for staring at him so intently from a distance. And he thought you were weird, but he was too so it just made both fit together like puzzle pieces.

The relationship seemed to be going great, both loved each other and he couldn't imagine his life without you. But if Spencer Reid had learned something in his life, it was that happiness lasts much less time than pain.

You were acting a little weird around him lately, you were irritable and he definitely knew you were hiding something.

"I think she's going to break up with me." One day he decided to confess his feelings to Morgan, when they were alone in the conference room.

Morgan frowned and dropped the current case file onto the table. “You’re kidding, right?” But with no response, Morgan knew otherwise. "Reid. She loves you so much it makes me a little sick.”

Reid remained with his worried expression. "She's slow to respond to my texts, she avoids me, and there's definitely something she's not telling me.” He counted your recent actions on his fingers before crossing his arms.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're profiling her."

Reid frowned. "What? Of course not." Yeah, that means of course yes.

Morgan shrugged. "Just talk to her or ask the girls, they should know something." This time he gave some good advice, not like the ones he used to give you.

Reid did as Morgan told him, but absolutely no one knew what was going on with you. Although everyone agreed that you were definitely hiding something.

You took a sip of coffee. "I watched that movie last night. People said it was really funny but I found it boring, although I admit the plot twist made me cry.” Yes, lately many things made you cry and it wasn't because of your moon in Pisces.

Anderson nodded. "Exactly! I couldn't even finish watching. I fell asleep."

“Anderson, would you excuse us for a minute?" Reid's appearance was a surprise, his insistence on talking to you wasn't.

"Of course, see you later." Then once Anderson left, Reid stood in front of you.

"What's wrong?" He got straight to the point, not like the previous times.

"Me? Nothing's wrong, I'm perfectly fine." But the drumming of your fingers on your coffee glass gave you away.

"Oh, of course." He crossed his arms, oh no, it seems his infinite patience turned out to be finite.

You immediately took a defensive stance. "Yes. I was perfectly fine before you came to interrupt my conversation with Anderson."

"About movies?" He didn't say it, but you knew he thought it was a nonsense, at least now that he was definitely irritated.

“Yes!" Your outburst earned you a few glances from the other agents. But both were too wrapped up in the tense conversation to deal with them.

"Sure, you have time to talk to other people about movies, but you don't even say a damn good morning to me.” You had to be careful what you said, you were in unfamiliar territory now, as Reid didn't usually swear.

"You're overreacting." Yeah... That probably wasn't the most brilliant thing you've ever said, but you were trying not to give away your secret, at least not yet.

“Overacting?” He was offended by your words. “You talk to everyone in the building except me. You used to spend as much time with me as possible, did I do something wrong?” A hint of fear and insecurity crept into his annoyed tone.

You shook your head. “Of course not.”

He put his hand on your shoulder. “Then tell me what��s wrong.” His tone was firm, but not harsh. Although it was obvious that he wasn't making a request of you.

"Spencer, I already told you that nothing is wrong with me." You emphasized the nothing.

He exhaled in frustration, he was 90% sure that this would work. "Fine! Then don't tell me anything." His patience had run out and he wasn't going to beg you anymore. It had been a week like this and he couldn't take it anymore, so he let go of your shoulder and walked away without even looking at you or giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

Everything was dark, you reached for the light switch and then the spotlight illuminated your apartment. It was a less warm space without Spencer there.

You sighed before throwing your bag on the couch and closed the door.

You stood there for a couple of minutes staring at the lonely space. Well since you became Spencer Reid's girlfriend there weren't many lonely nights, mornings or afternoons.

You would definitely prefer him to be here right now, rambling or mumbling a foreign language movie to you. But for now you had to keep your secret, and that meant keeping Reid away.

The growl of your stomach snapped you out of your mind, so you headed straight for the fridge. But the smell of something made you nauseous, so you immediately ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach on the toilet.

Yes. You had to hurry to sweeten this horrible memory with a concerned Spencer who would hold your hair and rub your back while you threw up.

After dinner and take a warm shower, you were tired enough to do anything else, so you settled into bed to sleep. But your brain had other plans…

"You look... not very awake." Tara commented as soon as you dropped your coat on the back of your chair.

"I only slept three damn hours," you nearly growled before throwing yourself into the chair and running your hands over your face. You needed a liter of coffee.

Tara stopped typing on her computer and looked at you. "Is this something to do with your strange behavior the last week?" When she got no response, she said your name seriously.

You pulled your hands away from your face. “I…” you began to fiddle with the rings on your fingers, the burden of unspoken words beginning to weigh on your shoulders. "God, why does everyone suddenly care about my fucking life?" You opted for annoyance as the perfect disguise for your vulnerability.

"Hey. None of us want to bother you, but we care about your life because we are your friends and we love you." Tara used a serious tone, like a scolding, but there was genuine affection behind her words. "Besides, Reid is suffering because of your attitude."

A pang of guilt hit your chest. “I don’t want to hurt him.” You whispered.

“I know.” She walked over to your desk. “But you’re hurting him, even if you don’t mean to.”

You swallowed before looking up. "It's just that there's something..." You took a deep breath, this was harder than you thought. "Things are changing, things are definitely going to change if I say this, it's going to be real and I don't know how to feel about it. I need someone to tell me what to do, because I feel so lost."

Tara placed one of her hands over yours. "Well, if I'm going to help you, I need you to tell me what's wrong." Her voice was warm.

"I want Spencer to know first." But your half-hearted answer was enough for her to know.

"In that case you should tell him, because none of his PhDs include mind reading." She made a little joke that actually made you smile.

"Yeah, I know. He'll probably solve everything out like he always does." Then you looked straight at his empty desk, at the nameplate: Spencer Reid. "But I want to give him a surprise, something that will make him happy. I can't just walk up and say hey…” Then you forced yourself to close your mouth when you realized you were going to say more than necessary, although in reality Tara already had her suspicions.

"Okay, I'll help you." She sounded very determined and you really appreciated her help and that she wouldn't question you as much as the others.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

You spun around in your chair and then had an epiphany, but not like the Taylor Swift song. "Crossword!" Your excitement got you the looks of several agents in the bullpen, luckily one of them was Tara.

"With a secret message?"

"Yes. It's literally the best way." You said excitedly.

But in your mind everything was easier than it really was.

You ruffled your hair as you forced yourself to think more, giving you a splitting headache. "When did I think this would be a good idea? Doing a crossword puzzle for the average person is easy, but not for a genius with an IQ of 187." You dropped your head onto your desk.

"You need help."

"But who's as smart as Spencer?" You muttered defeated, still with your head hidden between your arms and the wood of the desk.

Someone ruffled your hair. “Mhm. Tesla? Einstein?”

You immediately raised your head, only to see the famous Derek Morgan. “They’re dead.” You snorted.

Morgan raised his hands in peace. "Hey, what's the bad mood, baby girl? I just answered your question." He let out one of his signature laughs.

You rolled your eyes. You wished you could turn off some damn switch that was responsible for making you so easily angry. God, WHY? You were starting to get desperate.

"Blake!" Another epiphany, you were really on top of it. You didn't even explain it to Tara, you just ran to the parking lot to get your phone which you had forgotten in the car.

Alex Blake was happy to help you put together a crossword puzzle for Spencer. Although she warned you that he once solved one in about five minutes.

Yeah, well, you were going to take the risk.

Once the crossword puzzle with the secret message was ready, you set out to find Reid.

As you were leaving Garcia's office he was getting out of the elevator, but he didn't even notice you. He continued on his way and god, why did he look so attractive?

"Spencer." You caught up to him as he walked up the stairs.

"Not now, I'm busy." He replied with a seriousness not typical of him.

"With what?" You frowned.

"I said I'm busy." I didn't even look at you as he continued walking to the conference room.

You called out to him, but he ignored you. “We need to talk.” You said seriously, raising your voice.

He stopped in his tracks immediately, freezing halfway. He had never experienced anything like this before, but he knew well what we need to talk meant.

He turned to look at you, with an expression that betrayed nothing of what he truly felt. "I said I'm busy, we'll talk later." That didn't convince you. “I have to do a geographic profile and you have to work on victimology like Hotch asked you to.”

The end was near? You were beginning to doubt and he was very sure, only that he would delay it as much as he could.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

You were about to give up, but you really needed him to know. So you resorted to plan B.

"Derek Morgan, my favorite person in the world." You appeared in front of him, with a big smile.

Morgan let out a light laugh. "Yeah sure, what can I do for you, gorgeous?"

"I think Spencer is upset with me."

"He definitely is." He said it without hesitation and it definitely didn't help the state of your aching heart.

"Okay..." You handed him the crossword puzzle. "Could you please give him this for me?"

He picked up the crossword puzzle. "If you think he's going to forgive you for avoiding him for a week just by giving him a crossword puzzle that he'll finish in two seconds, you might be right."

"Just give it to her, okay?"

"Of course. But in exchange for Penelope being the godmother.”

You immediately frowned, but you reacted a little late because Morgan had already left to deliver your order.

From your desk you watched everything. From how Morgan entered the conference room to give Spencer the crossword puzzle to how the bastard answered it in five minutes. When it took you like three hours to do.

But the best part was when he realized the secret message and ran out of the conference room.

But when he saw you, his quickened steps took on a much, much slower pace.

"Tell me what's true." His low tone sounded like a plea.

A slight smile appeared on your face. "Yeah. That's why I've been acting weird, you know I can't keep secre-"

Your words were cut off when his lips met yours. In a kiss so sweet and soft that it was enough to dispel every single one of your doubts.

A few seconds later, he pulled away from the kiss, leaving you wanting more.

He caressed your cheek with his thumb. "You didn't have to do a crossword puzzle to tell me you were pregnant."

"I wanted to surprise you." You whispered.

A smile that could light up this whole town formed on his lips. "I love you so much." He then kissed you warmly again.

🏷️ @floraisunwell

And so it was that the foundations that had crumbled with Maeve's death slowly re-emerged. They began to build themselves again with your arrival and now with this news, their foundations were stronger than ever, because at last he was going to have the family he had dreamed of for a tortuous time.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Mrs. Blythe —(Gilbert Blythe xFem!Reader)

A/N: This is me avoiding my big girl job -Danny Words: 1,429 Summary: SMUT. Gilbert won't wait until the wedding. Twoidiots Masterlist

"Are you sure this is okay?"

Gilbert hushes you as he stumbles forward in the dark hallway. "I told you, we have the house to ourselves tonight."

"Oh, but we really shouldn't," you mumble worryingly.

Gilbert lets out a boyish laugh, glancing at you over his shoulder. "Y/N, if there's ever a time to mishave, is right now, a week before our wedding."

"But giving others the responsibility to cover for us was a stretch—"

"Nonsense, none of them minded," Gilbert tugs you closer once he reaches the stairs, swiftly picking you up so you don't stall any longer.

You yelp a bit, clinging to his shoulders as he laughs again, a kind of childish sound you rarely hear nowadays, but it reminded you of earlier years, of fairy picnics and secrets shared behind the barn.

"Gilbert Blythe, you wicked devil!" You hiss, but the grin on your face tells him you're just as giddy as he is.

"You say that now," he smirks, carrying you to his room. "But I trust you'll melt right into my arms as soon as I get us undressed."

The mere thought makes your face heat up. It's not like you've been completely innocent so far, Gilbert and you have been sneaking off to have intimate, loving experiences since the first month of courtship, but you've never had enough time or space to enjoy yourselves fully, on his bed, out of all places.

Gilbert pushes the door open and then lightly kicks it shut once you're both inside. He gently sets you back on your feet and eyes you with affection, but there's a bit of darkness underneath, the kind that makes your knees weak.

"My love," he says, softly reaching to trace your cheek. "Mrs. Blythe."

"Not yet," you say playfully.

Gilbert's smile widens. "Ah, with all the times I've marked your body, darling, I believe the ceremony is mere paperwork."

You gasp quietly and swat his arm. "You're terrible tonight!"

"On the contrary, my sweet," he hums, pulling you closer by the waist. "I'll be very, very good to you tonight..."

Gilbert leans down and presses soft, lingering kisses to your neck. He breathes in your scent, reaching up to thread his hand through the soft locks of hair and sighing lowly in approval. He walks you backward to the bed, his other hand gently grasping your hip and ensuring you don't trip.

You don't really fight it, after all, you two are getting married in a week, so there is no real danger in indulging his fancies. Your hands move expertly over his shirt and suspenders, pushing both off his shoulders until he tosses them away.

He looks at you, a gaze that is now fully lustful as he turns you around and unbuttons the back of your dress, leaning forward and peppering light kisses onto your nape.

His hands wander under the fabric, tracing your shoulder blades and then your waist, pushing off the dress until your torso is bare, and his lips are brushing over the soft skin at the base of your neck.

"This will be our life, Y/N," he whispers against your ear. "You, on my bed, and I, loving you morning, day, and night until I forget myself." his hands travel up your front and cup your chest, his breath hitches against your cheek as he continues to speak. "Every bit of you, I'll worship, every bit of me will be devoted to you, only ask and you'll get it... whatever you want."

The dress falls off your body and you turn in his arms, looking up at him wantonly, your hands reaching for his trousers. Gilbert frowns and helps you get them out of the way, and once that's done you climb into bed together.

Gilbert's mouth is everywhere, he kisses your cheeks, your mouth, your neck, he travels down to your collarbone and presses his face to the valley of your breasts, making a sound of utter satisfaction at the feeling. Your hand rests on the back of his head, running through his brown curls in an almost lazy manner as you relish the attention.

His hand travels down your stomach, and he presses a kiss just under your ear as his fingers slip between your thighs and find your center. He moans, his hand trembling when it comes into contact with your heat.

"Good lord," he blurts out heavily. "Y/N, dearest, I can't wait to feel you sucking me in..."

You whimper in reply, his lewd words making your legs part wider. He slips one finger inside you, groaning at the sensation. Your hips buck up against his hand, and he grinds his own on your body, his length pressing against your thigh demanding attention.

"Gilbert," you sigh, clinging to his arm as he moves in deliberate, patient movements.

"That's a good girl," he speaks in a breathy voice, smiling down at your lovely needy expression. "Just making sure you can fit me, sweetheart, you know it won't take long..."

You arch against him demanding more, and Gilbert's free hand slides down to grip your bum, squeezing lightly. He groans and buries his face on your neck, almost shaking with need.

"Please..." You pant, lifting one of your legs and keeping it on his hip. Gilbert holds it in place, grabbing your thigh and pulling it higher to wrap it around his waist.

"Just like that, my love," he mumbles, biting your shoulder lightly. "Let me take you just like that..."

He pulls his fingers out of you and then wraps them around his manhood, using your wetness so he can slide in without issue. You watch him move his hand up and down his length, his eyes never leaving you, and then he lines up with your entrance, teasing you with his tip.

"Get on my cock, won't you sweetheart?" He asks, his tone polite yet holding the right amount of authority.

You moan, nodding eagerly as you lift up your hips and then push him into you, shivering at the feeling. Gilbert moans too, letting his member slide in a steady motion until he's buried deep. His left hand clings to the pillow as he tries not to ram into you like a beast.

"Y/N, my love," he says lowly, burying his face in your hair as he rolls his hips a little. "My goddess on earth..."

You whimper, needing more of him, all of it. "Gilbert," you beg, your hand holding onto his hip to encourage him.

"I know," he sighs, slowly moving back and forth. "I know, love, but I must take my time... or this will end quickly..."

His arms wrap around you, his face traveling down as he kisses your breasts with hunger, biting and moaning into the skin. You lose track of time, focusing solely on the pace you're trying to keep and how his hands travel over your body.

Gilbert speeds up when you grasp his hair a bit too tightly, his voice turning into a growl. You gasp, clenching around him, and that makes his hips stutter. "Y/N," he moans. "Again..."

He doubles his efforts wanting to get that exact reaction from you over and over again, which causes you to end up a whining flushed mess. Your nails dig into his back and Gilbert starts to collapse on top of you, so he rolls over without pulling out, keeping you firmly in place.

"Like this," he pants. "Move on me like this."

You tremble at the way his voice sounds, so deep and urgent. Your hips move on their own, stuttering as you slowly reach your limit. "Gilbert— ah!" You stutter, your hands pressing on his stomach. "I can't... I need..."

"I know," he places a hand on your lower back, guiding your movements. "Come for me, Mrs. Blythe." He grins.

It unravels you. His voice, his smile, his body underneath yours, and knowing this is what the rest of your life will look like. When you finish, it's like swimming in the moonlight. Blinding, and so very sweet.

Gilbert follows right after, his hands gripping your hips to keep them in place as he stills beneath you and tilts his head back, his mouth falling open and a deep rumble of pleasure slipping out of it. You slow down to a stop, and he pulls you down onto his chest gently, once again burying his face in your hair and sighing.

"My wife," he mutters hoarsely, and you have no interest in correcting him this time.

Taglist.

@i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @aleksosoto @moonhoonie @thatonementallyillsimp @cedricisnotdead @mikaelsonwhxrebae @lavenderacademia @angelhugsaresweet @slytherinambitious @outofst1le @na1ven3vy @lucyk

[et6rnalsun]

fashionkilla! reader actin toxic w chris — king of toxic shit. [ SITUATIONSHIP ] 𝇄 𝇃

“i don’t even wanna listen to you anymore, jesus fuck” you rudely dismissed him when he tried to open his mouth again and say bullshit that you barely tried understood. your tone was harsh, not a shred of emotion veiling it — you didn’t care. “you keep sayin’ shit, and i aint got time for this”

chris didn’t understand, he just didn’t understand. his jaw was clenched tightly as he watched you finish getting ready, his hands resting on your desk, the look on his face intense like he would kill with it. “oh yeah? got no time, baby? and yet you’re still here” he chuckled sarcastically, his tongue teasing the inside of his cheek almost nervously.

you rolled your eyes, getting closer to the mirror as you finished applying your powder. “when i do my makeup i just couldn’t care less ‘bout your childish problems,” you had the nerve to shrug, not even looking at him as he approached slowly. chris’s patience then snapped like a frayed wire. his hands, before you could fully process his movement, gripped your face. the dirty—feeling touch was firm but not quite bruising, forcing you to stop your motions and look at him in the mirror.

“childish problems?” he echoed, his voice low and breathy as he spoke close to your ear. his thumb pressed lightly into your cheek, tipping your face upward so you just couldn’t avoid his gaze. eyes dark, drilling into yours through the reflection like a reminder. “that’s funny, baby, because i don’t think bein’ worried ‘bout you not being loyal is childish”

your heart thudded, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you smirked, lips curving just enough to fuel his irritation. “not loyal?” you drawled, voice dripping with more and sharp sarcasm. “that what you think? god, you’re actin’ real stupid now.” you reached up to pry his hand away, but his grip tightened, his thumb now brushing the corner of your lips with calculated pressure. “it’s a party, chris. and it’s not like i gotta be loyal, you ain’t my boy”

he was silent for a moment, there was a hidden clue in the threat of his forced touch; he just wanted to touch you so bad, his hands getting to touch your skin when you’re being like that feels like something rare as gold. “do you really want to do this?” he then muttered, raising an eyebrow. “do what?” you blurted out in response, finally turning to him as you pulled away from his touch—taking advantage of his softening to slip out of it. “go out and live my life? Is that what’s threatening you so much?”

"it's not like that, you know"

“you’re pathetic, chris” you dropped the bomb that you’d been hiding behind your back, shaking your head as you ran a hand through your hair. “you’re so pathetic that i feel fuckin’ bad for you, you know? maybe the only feelin’ i have right now” you weren’t light with your words, you didn’t think twice before hitting him in his weakest spots in that sneaky way.

you were already heading towards the door of your room, the room he was supposed to leave in a fucking short time, while you waved goodbye. “keep cryin”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

We bleed together

a/n you want pain!? I'll give you pain. The person who requested this is responsible for the damage.

summary: what if the last day of humanity was different? What if instead of loosing Sarah, Joel lost you - the mother of his two children and the person who had built him up to a better man.

warnings: car crash, blood, injuries, wounds, death ahh I would say medium emotional damage

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"And then one more", you spun around, making the baby giggle in your hands, "And one more", you twirled around, smiling to yourself as yet another giggle filled the still-empty kitchen. Emma was one giddy baby. For a five-month-old, she was extremely alert, her curiosity driving her to look around as much as she could. If only her body was strong enough, she would be crawling around day and night. Following Sarah around or any of you for that instant. Sarah barely left her side. You were worried at first about her reaction. Sure, you had been there almost from the start, helping Joel take care of her, and she was like your own daughter, but still. You had plenty of conversations about her biological mother. You understood her desire to know. To ask questions. To understand.

"She didn't want me, right? I was the problem", you were halfway through your pregnancy when this conversation surfaced again. Putting down the baby sweater that you were just folding, you motioned for Sarah to come in. She had become more avoidant once you started showing. The reality started to kick in, and it pained her that the baby was going to have a real and normal family.

"You were never the problem, my beam of light", you cupped her face lovingly, whipping away some of the tears that had started rolling down Sarah's cheeks. "But… she didn't love me like you love your baby", "Oh, Sarah", you pulled her closer to your chest, "I've loved you from the moment I saw you kicking around in that makeshift crib your dad had going on". Running your hand through Sarah's curls, you made her turn to you. "You've been my special girl since then. I love you and the baby the same. There are no differences to me between you two. Sure, you and I don't share DNA, but, like, who cares about that?", she shrugged her shoulders. Biting her lip as she tried to stop the tears. "You promise you won't leave?", Sarah crocked out, big brown eyes searching yours. It broke your heart so much, but you understood her. Her fear of losing a mother figure. Her dad needing to go through this alone again. You took both of her hands in yours, squeezing them, "I would never dream of it; you are my world".

Joel couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, especially once the baby caught sight of her father in the archway, kicking her little legs happily. The sudden burst of excitement made you turn your head to the side, "Ah, so dad is the one you get all happy for, huh", You nuzzled your face into Emma's neck, leaving endless amounts of kisses there and making her squeal happily. "She's a daddy's girl, aren't you?", Joel walked closer to you, hand reaching instantly for the smallest Miller. Emma's babbles filled the kitchen as she told her dad all the stories she could. "Honestly, rude. When both of our kids are like that", "Maybe I'm just more awesome", you let out a fake gasp, your hand coming up your chest. Joel smirked before giggling to himself. "No, sir, soon you'll be going to work without birthday sandwiches", you warned him, and Joel instantly lifted his free hand in the air defensively.

It felt surreal this morning for some reason. Joel had laid in bed awake for some time just thinking. Thinking about Sarah's mother. Thinking about you. About how his life had shifted once you stepped in. How much he valued the love you gave Sarah. How much he valued you going through a tough pregnancy to bring another baby girl into this world. Joel wondered if you knew. Knew how much he loved you. It wasn't just love. It was his whole existence. You were his rock, as he was yours. But he knew, Joel was convinced, that it was all thanks to you that he found purpose in life again.

"We can't have mommy mad", Joel mumbled to Emma, ticking her stomach. He moved closer to you while you were cutting up the vegetables. Leaning in to press a kiss on your shoulder, then another. Before a whole line of kisses was drawn from your shoulder up to your temple. You giggled, loving the slight tickle of Joel's beard against your skin. "I love you so much", Joel muttered, bringing you closer to his chest as his hand sneaked around your waist. You leaned back into him smiling, "Not as much as I love you, birthday boy", you cupped his cheeks, moving into Joel's embrace so you could place your lips on his. "The best mama ever", he muttered in between kisses, "And best wife to be", those words made your heart flutter a little. God, you loved this man, and you couldn't wait to be a Miller soon. You deepened the kiss just a little.

"Seriously? In front of a baby?", Sarah's voice made you two tear apart quickly. "You're officially out of the age to say ew when your parents kiss", Joel chirped, turning to his older daughter, who was rolling her eyes. "Yeah, but Em isn't, so don't be disgusting, right Em?", Sarah reached for her sister, whom Joel had carefully placed in her little high chair. Her little fist tightened and wrapped around Sarah's finger. You place the plates with food on the table.

"Tommy?", you ask, but Joel shrugged his shoulders. "Probably left early," strange, you thought to yourself as you slipped into the chair next to everyone. "So, how old are you again?", Sarah asked, mouth full of food. "Thirty-six", the girl shook her head, making you giggle. "Hate to break it to you, dad, but dippers are in the near future", she teased, but Joel only hummed, "Who said I ain't wearing one now?". Sarah let out a laugh, which Emma mimicked, making you smile. "Well, at least now I know why Em's diapers are disappearing", you said ž, making them both let out a laugh.

You wished you could freeze moments like this. Where you all were laughing. Where nothing bothered you all. "Don't forget to get the cake on your way back", you reminded Joel, who instantly hummed, "I will don't worry", he muttered, and Sarah sent him a warning look that he returned by leaning across the table to cup her cheeks and placing kisses all over her face. She squirmed in her dad's hands until she couldn't contain the laughter anymore.

Joel came back to a dark house. He wasn't expecting anything else, considering that he was three hours late coming back. He knew you would forget him for skipping his birthday dinner. It was Sarah, whom he knew must be upset. And letting her down was his biggest fear in life. Joel tried to move past the hallway as quietly as possible, stopping only when he noticed a light coming from the living room. Sarah was fast asleep with her head laying on your lap, your eyes were tired as you held Emma close to your chest. The light sounds of her suckling and the television playing were the only noise in the room. Joel couldn't help but smile slightly. He will never be able to get tired of a sight like this.

"Am I in deep shit?", you blinked a couple of times, shaking your head, "You can't even imagine Miller". Joel sat down next to you, lips instantly moving to kiss the side of your head, hand reaching to support Emma, who was happily eating, her tiny hand holding onto the pendant necklace that Joel had gotten you. It had four gold-plated letters. All the first letters of your little family's names.

"Don't overthink it. She'll understand eventually. Sarah wants your presence more than that cake anyway,", you reassured him, already feeling him slip into his mind. You knew Joel best. You knew how much he cared. The family was always first, and his working hours were so hectic just because he wanted to give you all the best. "I know. I will… I'll squeeze in a free day, and we can all just have a day to ourselves", Joel muttered, and you leaned closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Have I told you lately that you are the love of my life?", he asked all of a sudden, making you look back up at him. "Well, I would freaking hope to be", you teased him, moving to nuzzle closer to him once more. Joel let out a light chuckle, "But you have; you always remind me of that. Because you are the best fiancé and father ever", you muttered sleepily. Joel's warmth dangerously lulled you into a slumber.

The sound of what appeared to be a military helicopter flying over the house woke you up. You frowned, reaching over for Joel only to find his side of the bed empty. You quickly sat up, looking at the bassinet that stood by the side of your bed. Breathing out a sigh of relief when you saw Emma fast asleep there. Lights from outside were illuminating the room. It seemed like the search troops were out. What the heck was happening? The sight of a paper note caught your attention next. You picked it up quickly. It was Joel's handwriting on it: "Needed to go bail Tommy out. I'll be back as soon as I can. Love you, J.

The sound of footsteps approaching made you grab a book off your bedside table. Something was wrong, and you could just feel it. You could feel it deep in your gut. "Mom, dad", Sarah's voice filled your ears, right before another helicopter flew by. "Cone here, darling", Sarah threw the door open, rushing to you as she jumped onto the bed. "What's going on?", she asked, as your eyes fell over the window. "I don't know,", you muttered, "But daddy will be home soon, and we'll figure it out, okay?", You cupped her cheek tenderly, giving Sarah a light smile. You stood up and opened the wardrobe, pulling out a wrap-around carrier. Quickly draping it over your body, you leaned to pick up the smallest addition to the family, tucking her close to your chest. Now more than thankful that she was a deep sleeper, a gift from Joel.

"Come on, let's see if there's something on TV,", you said, reaching for Sarah's hand. The commotion outside only made the anxiety more and more intense. "Where is dad?", Sarah asked as you walked down the stairs. "He went to get your uncle". It wasn't the first time, so Sarah didn't ask any more questions. She knew it meant that Tommy had once again gotten into trouble. Something that made her dad rather frustrated most of the time.

All the channels were turned off, the only thing on TV was a warning. "Indoors, law enforcement and emergency services are in the area and will be in contact with further instructions", your hand was still holding onto Sarah when the sound of something hitting the window made you both jump. The barking filled your ears next, and you let out a shaky breath. Sarah instantly rushed towards the doors. "No, get back here", you called after the girl, but she was already opening the door, sinking to her knees as she petted the dog. "Easy, easy, Mercy. What are you doing out here, boy?", Sarah looked around the street, the chilly nighttime air hitting her cheeks. She moves to step closer to the street, but you were quick to hold onto her arm. "Get back inside," you said, "But what if ms. Adler…", she tried to argue, but your grip on her hand only tightened.

"I said inside", you tugged at her hand right as another person or whatever that was stumbled into the street. It twitched awkwardly before starting to dart in your direction. You moved Sarah behind you. "Go, go, go", you shouted before, pushing her into the house, closing the door behind you. Pressing all of your body weight against the door. Eyes closed as your body started to shake. Where was Joel? Where was he? The baby lets out a whine. Your hand instantly moved to rub up and down her tiny back, hoping to soothe her into sleep.

"Mom", Sarah calls out. You lifted your eyes to see her teary ones, instantly reaching for her, "Come here baby. We're okay", "What was that?". You pressed her to your side, kissing her head a couple of times. You wished you could answer, but you couldn't. "I don't know, baby, I don't know", you nudged her closer to yourself. Banging on the doors got louder, and a part of you was telling you to move to somewhere safer to at least get the girls safe. But you couldn't move. So crippled by anxiety. You just sat there with silent tears falling down your cheeks. Then a shot rang out, making you flinch. And then there was silence.

"Y/N", you let out a cry at Joel's voice that filled your ears from the other side of the door. Sarah was the one to stand up fist, quickly reaching for the handle, giving you just enough time to move slightly as she yanked the doors open. Joel stepped in, his hands reaching for Sarah instantly as he looked her over for any sign of injuries, "You're not hurt, baby girl?", he asked her. Sarah shook her head. "Dad, what's going on?", but Joel said nothing as his eyes fell on you. Crying on the floor, hands wrapped around your baby. He crossed the distance between you in a couple of steps. Kneeling beside you, "Joel…", you cried out, and he instantly brought your body closer to his, weary of the baby between you but making sure you could physically feel that he was there, "I've got you dove, come on, we need to move now".

Joel's arm moved to steady you from behind as he helped you up. Tommy was by Sarah's side, gun in hand, as he walked her towards the car. You barely made it down the front porch stairs as someone ran out of the Adler's house. You all froze in place, and Tommy hiked up the gun. "Get in the truck now", Joel roared, briefly turning to you and Sarah. But there was little time to think as the woman's body twitched and, with an unhuman-like growl, she started crawling towards you.

"What are we doing, Joel?", Tommy's voice rang out, but Joel didn't answer. With the tool in his hand, he swung his arm. He hit the old lady straight on the head, and her body fell to the ground. It was a split-second decision. A decision that had both you and Sarah staring at Joel because you had never… Never seen him this way. Never seen so much anger. Never seen this kind of violence. You didn't even know that Joel was capable of that.

"You killed her", Sarah whispered, pulling you out of your trance. Joel stepped to her, cupping her cheek, "Baby, I'm sorry", wrapping his arms around her, embracing her. "Joel, we need to move", Tommy said in a worried tone, now moving to grab your hands as he walked you toward the car. "You're okay?", he asked you as he opened the door, making sure you didn't hit your head. His hand lingered on his niece's back, her big brown eyes now staring at him. You nodded your head. What else were you supposed to do? "We'll get out of here", Tommy said firmly, rubbing his thumb on Emma's cheek. You turned to Joel and Sarah; he was still holding onto her. Her cheeks were stained with tears.

"Listen to me, it's not just the Adlers, but we need to be brave; we will get out of this together", Joel said to her before opening the door for her. An explosion rocked the street meters away from you. Both Miller brothers were quick to shield you, baby, and Sarah. Emma's cries echoed through the empty street now. You met Joel's eyes briefly. Eyes that were also scared. Worried eyes. "Let's go, guys, we need to go", Tommy jumped in the driver's seat before starting the car.

Sarah was silently crying beside you. Crying alongside Emma. You tried to soothe both of their fears, but with your anxiety being so high, you knew that you could try to hide it all you wanted - they could still feel it. The frantic driving and Joel's shouting at Tommy didn't help much. You pressed Sarah closer to you, her arm falling over Emma's body. You started to hum one of the lullabies. The lullaby that had followed Sarah through her childhood. The one even she sometimes hummed to her little sister if she took over the nap duties. "And in the darkest of nights, the stars shine bright above us. Sleep tight, little one; let the light calm you", you hummed softly. Rocking both of them in your embrace.

The world was falling apart. Houses were on fire. There was so much screaming. "What if it's everywhere?", Sarah muttered, looking up at you. "We'll find a safe place. Remember what your dad told you? We need to be just a tiny bit braver tonight", you said, meeting Tommy's gaze right as he looked up. A plane flew over the car. "The fuck", the younger Miller cursed while watching the ship sway in the sky. "Keep going", Joel encouraged his brother. His arms slipped toward the back. Joel's fingers were running up and down your calve. His way of grounding himself, of making sure that you knew he was there. That he still had this under control. That he was going to get you all out of here.

The chaos was like nothing you had seen before. The screams. The cries. People were running in front of cars. Hitting the sides as they fell. The streets were full. It all felt like a blur and the worst nightmare all at once. Sarah's grip on your hand was deadly. Your fingers had found Joel's hand as you leaned forward. Tommy started to move out of the street. You felt a tug on your hand. Sarah's eyes were gazing through the back window. "Dad" she whispered, "Dad!", this time the word came out more firm and loud. You only managed to see another airplane flying right at you. Then came the crash. The sound of static. Everything moved at lightning speed. You caved into yourself. Hoping to provide as much shelter for the infant with my body, and then everything went black for a moment.

Joel had never been more scared than the moment he crawled out of the car that was now lying on its roof and found your unconscious body covered in bits of glass and blood. Emma's cries soothed him almost; at least he knew she was alive. Sarah moved as well, and Joel let out a somewhat relieved breath. "Babe", Joel touched your leg, but you didn't move. He inched closer, dragging you out of the car by your shoulders. The moment Joel tugged on your hand, your eyes snapped open with a cry.

"Hey, I've got you", he tried to sound calm, but the sight of the blood trickling down the side of your face made him want to tear the whole world apart. Joel pulled Sarah out of the car as well before turning his attention to you. "Does something hurt?", "My shoulder, I think I…", you hissed when Joel's finger came in contact with your skin. "Give me, Em. Sarah, can you walk, baby?", Joel was loosening the carrier from around your body as he gazed at his firstborn. The girl nodded, and you ripped the side of the carry. Crawling toward Sarah and reaching for her ankle. "I'll wrap it tight, okay; it might feel uncomfortable, but you'll be able to move for now", "Mom, your head", she mumbled, fingers reaching for the blood, but you stopped her quickly. "It's nothing, darling. You focus on staying close to us, okay?"

Tommy came up from the other side, glancing over his shoulder. "The military trucks are here; you need to move; go towards the river; I'll meet you there", Tommy said, Joel rocked Emma in his arms as she screamed her little lungs out. She, too, felt the threat without the warmth of your skin. Tommy shrugged off his jacket, draping it over Joel, before helping you stand. "I'll see y'all there", he ushered you to move. "You stay safe", you said to him, and he only nodded. Regardless of his stumbles in life, Tommy was a good man. A loving brother-in-law. Someone whom you cherished. Cherished so deeply. But you couldn't let your sentiments get the better of you now. You needed to get your babies out of this mess. Get them somewhere safe. So you grabbed Sarah's hand, and so did Joel, and you all ran.

The river bank was practically a hand's reach away. Sarah was limping badly. You knew her leg was going to give up at any moment. You pulled her closer to you so she could lean more of her weight on you. Ignoring the pain that shot through your shoulder. Whispering words of encouragement to her. "Stop right there", a male's voice called out. Joel brought you all to a halt as the light from a gun darted onto your body. "We are not infected. My family got into a car crash", yet you could tell that the soldier didn't care about it whatsoever as he inched closer. "I have four civilians by the river. The female is covered in blood, girl limping", he said coldly into the radio, gun still pointed your way. "Please, we", "Shut up", the male roared, and you instantly pushed Sarah behind you. "Joel…", your hand held onto his forearm, but your eyes didn't leave the person in front of you. Something in your gut twisted. A sense of dread almost pulled you down.

"If something happens", "Y/N, don't…", you yanked at Joel's arm, firmly gaping at him. "You fucking take them and run", you muttered through gritted teeth. "Hey, no one told you to move", the soldier shouted, and you moved to face him again. The sound of your breathing was the only sound you could hear as your hand came up over Joel's hip, and you moved forward. The gunfire pierced the air. The echo was almost unbearable. Freezing. Static. Joel must have dragged you to the side after the first shot rang out, making you all tumble down the hill.

All Joel could hear was Em crying and a couple more shots ringing out. He needed to think quickly. He needed to come up with a plan. "Mommy", Sarah's shaky breath followed by a scream, was what got Joel to look up. And he wished he hadn't. He wished this was a dream. Maybe it was? His worst nightmare? What if he pinched himself? Make it all disappear. Make it all stop. "Joel", Tommy called out, reaching for the crying baby, and the moment the girl was out of his hands, Joel was moving towards you, falling over himself but moving to you.

"Hey, hey, love", he muttered. You had two gunshot wounds on both sides. The blood had already soaked your clothes. Sarah's had her hands pressed against your skin as she shook. "Listen to me, Y/N; I'll get you out; I'll make it", but you moved your hand up, gripping his arm. Lips pressed together as you tried to keep yourself from screaming in pain. You had to. For your girls.

Your eyes fell on Em in Tommy's arms; her bright pink cheeks were visible in the night. Your little angel baby. Your girl that you will never get to see grow up. She might not even remember you. You were going to be a distant memory. Just how Sarah's mom was to her. Sarah looked at the blood seeping through your skin. You reached for her, making her eyes snap at your face.

You pulled the last bits of your strength so you would smile at her, "I love you, sun-shine", you breathed out, and burning pain shot through your body, making you close your eyes. "Mommy, please. I… don't… please", she said, moving to wrap her hands around your neck. You breathed in her flowery scent, feeling your eyes burn with tears. Knowing very well that this was the last time you were going to feel her touch and smell her, "Let… mommy and daddy have a moment", you pleaded. Feeling your body starting to crash already. You didn't want her to see you fade away. No. The blood. Everything from tonight was already too much. She shook her head, but Joel grabbed her hands and moved them away from your blood, saying, "Go to Tommy, baby girl".

Joel, however, moved back to pressing down on your wounds for dear life. Even if he could tell, it was hopeless. He couldn't. He couldn't and was not about to let go. "Joel..", you cried out, and he instantly moved your body closer to his. Pulling you against his chest, "Don't go; don't die; you can't die", he croaked out, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "Hold me", you whispered, feeling the metallic taste in your mouth getting stronger, "I'm here, love. I've got you", Joel pulled you even closer to him, savoring the last bits of your warmth. He hoped it would have been him dying here. It should have been because you three would have been fine with Tommy. But with you gone… What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to live?

"I lo-ve…", "I love you too; I love you so much", your grip on his arm started to loosen as your body shook. Joel got to meet your eyes one more time. He got to capture the depth and warmth of them that he knew he wanted to remember for the rest of his miserable life. "It's okay, it's okay", more blood poured from your mouth. Your big, worried eyes eased. Joel's rocking stayed the same. As if he were swaying you to sleep. As if you two were back home, back in your bedroom, and you had just had a bad dream. A bad dream that Joel was desperate to chase away. "I will always love you. There will never be anyone to replace you. My heart is yours; I'm bleeding with you, dove", he said through the tears.

Then you took a breath in. A surprisingly smooth breath in. Joel looked down at your face. And with a final exhale, your body let go, and the weight of you in Joel's hands told him loud and clear that you were gone. He looked up at the sky, at the stars that shone brightly despite the complete chaos. His body shook with a sob, a sob that guided your soul away from this world. A sob with which a part of Joel died. You took it as you went, and he was never going to be the same.

Tommy didn't rush Joel. Couldn't bring himself to. Sarah was crying with her head buried in her uncle's shoulder, and Emma's choking sobs followed suit. Joel held you till your body was ice cold. His eyes had dried, and he was staring ahead of himself, but he saw nothing. The same darkness that danced within his heart was now dancing all around him. He took your hand into his, carefully taking off the engagement ring from your finger before doing the same with the necklace. He needed something. He needed something from you that he could carry with him.

With you in his arms, Joel stood up. His legs were shaking, but he stepped forward. Tommy rose as well, "Joel, you can't… ", he tried to stop his brother. He understood that parting with your lifeless body was hard, but Joel couldn't carry you around. "We're going", Joel said dryly, as he moved past them. Sarah managed to brush her fingers over your cold skin as her father walked past. "You can't", Tommy tried again, but Joel turned back around, looking feral. "I said we MOVE,", he barked out, making Sarah shiver, and Em only cried more. "Dad,", the older girl tried, but Joel paid her no mind. He couldn't, not now. Acknowledging her would mean that he would have to face reality. And he couldn't. He couldn't fall apart. Especially not now. A shield of coldness embraces Joel as he continues walking through the dark field, still feeling your blood dripping off his hands. Dead.

[sacharinee]

pranking peter asking him to try not to annoy you today has me crying

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 600

a/n: hiii anon thank u very much for requesting! based on that trend on tiktok :)

you’re feeling mean today.

after waking up so early, you’ve scrolled through countless videos of girls pranking their boyfriends with just a simple line, and seeing their priceless reactions.

and what better use of your time than to prank your ever so lovely boyfriend.

you’re up in the bathroom, washing your face and getting your makeup done for the day when peter walks in to greet you.

���g’morning baby,” he mumbles and wraps an arm around the side of your hip, sloppily kissing the side of your forehead.

you take a look at him through the mirror. he’s got bedhead, his curly hair all messy, shirt wrinkled, and he’s rubbing his squinty eyes from the bright lights. his cute little pout makes your heart skip a beat and you almost feel bad for what you’re about to do. 

“hi petey,” you greet, you’ve got your brush in one hand, blending out the makeup on your skin.

and he’s reaching for his toothbrush, squirting some toothpaste on when he asks you, “d’you sleep good?”

“it was okay,” you respond with a shrug.

“just okay? what happened, y/n/n?" he asks, his voiced laced with concern.

you tap your fingernails on the countertop as you take a deep breath, “look, pete, i have a big day ahead, so can you just try not to annoy me today please?”

peter freezes as his jaw goes slack with the toothbrush in his mouth. his eyes stare up at you in shock and confusion while you’re none the wiser, looking straight ahead, curling your lashes up closely against the mirror, “what’d you say?”

you let out a sigh as you switch out the curler for mascara, “i said, try not to get on my nerves today.”

"today? but the day just started," he's dumbfounded when he looks at you.

you shrug in response, "still. you've been really annoying lately."

you resist from looking at peter. one quick glance and you know you would break.

“oh…” the boy mumbles, looking down at the sink confused, trying so hard to figure out where he went wrong, “m’ sorry.” you feel like a monster.

but when peter steps back to sneak a peek at you, he notices your uncomfortable stance. you’re squeamish, biting your lip, as you avoid eye contact with him. 

his eyes narrow down at your figure, “and how exactly have i annoyed you lately?”

you take a second to think of a example, “just, everything. like right now, when you ruined my makeup or when you’re asking me stupid questions.”

“stupid questions? ruined your makeup? wait, what, you mean when i kissed you good morning??” your boyfriend laughs in amusement. 

“m’ just saying.” 

“huh okay,” peter spits the toothpaste out in the sink, “you wanna talk about silly questions?" he wipes his mouth with a rag and turns towards you, gets up real close to the side of your face.

you pinch your brows towards him, “what are you-”

“who was the one that asked me if italy was in spain?”

“peter-”

“or if milan was in germany?”

“are you ser-”

“or if australia and austria were the same thing?”

“peter!”

“i’m just saying!” he’s mocking you, a smug smirk on his face, and he knows he’s got you.

“yea whatever, einstein,” you bump him out of the way wanting to use the mirror next. you’re crabby your little prank backfired while peter’s having the time of his life, laughing at your embarrassment. 

he stands behind you wrapping his big arms around your front and resting his chin down on your shoulder. he’s got this irritating sardonically sweet smile on his face that makes you wanna kiss or slap it off, you can’t decide. he’s gazing with loving eyes at you’re adorably grumpy pout in the mirror and kissing the side of face, smudging your makeup once more.

“it’s okay baby, you can get on my nerves all you want.”

[hertenskylarks]

More 2 Cents on S3

So, I know there’s already a lot of talk going around. Here’s my 2 cents. 

In light of the recent news, I keep hearing a lot of “Oh, I hope the third season doesn’t get canceled,” and “Oh, I hope it does. Fuck Gaiman,” and “Oh, what about Terry’s vision? What about the fans? What about closure?”

I have absolutely zero control as to whether or not season 3 is made. Many arguments for and against it have already been made. I don't want to beat a dead horse, but I will offer this perspective from my own personal experience. 

I’m a swing dancer, and my rapist was my teacher and one of the first people who ever taught me how to dance. One of the things that made me hesitant to come forward was that he was one of the most likable characters in my scene. He was the funny, goofy guy who wore funky printed shirts, he was sooo nice, he couldn’t possibly be a rapist, right? Right?

Seeing people praise him, hearing people talk about how great he is when I knew what he did to me… It drove me absolutely mad. I just wanted to shake people and say, “No, you don’t understand! You don’t understand who he is!” But I felt like I just couldn't. I felt his reputation was too iron-clad to say anything.

Coming forward was one of the scariest things I ever did because I was so sure people either wouldn't believe me or wouldn't care. And, as predicted, that was the case for some. You can only imagine how I felt when someone I used to call my friend went on to have him officiate her wedding. You can only imagine how I felt when the response from the organizers of the dance scene was to ask me to avoid mentioning Y-Town Swing in social media posts (Oops) to protect their reputation. You can only imagine how I felt when they continued to have him as a teacher, or when they updated their safe space policy to say they are not responsible for anything that happens “outside a Y-Town swing event.” 

Oh, so if he raped me in the bathroom at the event instead it would have made a difference? Right, sorry, didn't realize the location or a rape mattered that much.

Anyway…

This was all in the confines of a small dance scene, in a small city, in a very niche hobby. Now, imagine how it must feel when your rapist and abuser is a fucking best selling author, praised as this ally to women and LGBT people, he’s the quirky guy who has a Tumblr and actually responds to his fans and he’s so cool, he’s one of us, he can’t possibly be a rapist, right? Right?

I can only imagine how fucking mad it drove his victims to know who he really is and see him put on such a high pedestal. 

So, however this all unfolds, I will say this. The people I care about most are the victims. I say this as someone who loved and still loves Good Omens, I say this as someone who was torn up about the final 15, as someone who rejoiced when S3 was originally announced, before all the allegations came to light. I care about the victims. 

But what about the fans? Listen, it’s a fucking TV show. Do you really mean to tell me the ending of a fictional fucking story is more important than the very real people he’s hurt? Not having an ending to your favorite show does not hold a candle to the trauma of being sexually assaulted. There’s no comparison. Not in the same ballpark. Not even in the same galaxy. 

But what about Terry?

Terry is dead and in his grave. I am sorry to say this, but whether his vision comes to life or not, he will never be the wiser. It makes no difference to him. If I could wave my magic wand and have Terry alive and well and Gaiman dead and in his grave, believe me, I definitely would, but that is not the hand we were dealt. 

So please, all I ask is this. Before you go spouting shit like, “I hope we don’t lose S3,” or “I just need to know how it ends,” put yourself in their shoes for just a second.

Imagine you are Claire, or Scarlett, or any of his other victims. Imagine you are sexually assaulted by someone whom the world just puts on a pedestal. You have to sit there and listen to him get praised as being “such a great ally to women and minorities” and “he’s one of us,” and “he’s so brilliant. He’s so cool. He really listens to his fans. Look at this quote of his I got tattooed on my body.” And for years you just sit there and take it, because you’re so fucking afraid that no one will believe you if you come forward, you’re told your story “isn’t enough,” you watch him get richer and richer while you’re stuck with the therapy bill for everyting this “great ally of women” did to you. 

Now imagine that you finally come forward. You finally muster up the will to speak your truth, and tell people what he did to you, and you find that you’re not the only person he’s hurt. The world is finally hearing your story and learning what a manipulative monster he is. 

And now, I want you to think very carefully about what it means if we still get S3. 

S3 means press tours. It means more reviews praising him as a genius. It means certain people being contractually obligated to say nice things about him, or at the very least, not say negative things about him. It means, once again, seeing his fucking horse face or his name everywhere, on Amazon, on billboards, on busses, on posters, in adverts. Only now, it's AFTER the world heard your side of the story.

Just imagine how that would feel. 

So, if it wasn't obvious by now, my stance on S3 is… I don't really want it to happen. Not out of spite or some deep seated hatred for Gaiman (although, ya know, fuck that guy) but out of consideration for the people he's hurt, as someone who knows exactly how it feels to see the person who hurt you get put on a pedestal. 

I understand that production is paused and people think he may be getting removed from the project. I'm not going to comment on that because "paused” can mean a lot of things and there's so much we don't know yet.

There will be other shows. 

There will be shows that DO have satisfying endings. 

Media and shows can be replaced. 

But there is no such thing as being un-raped. 

[locke-esque-monster]

I got real nervous they were doing Lila x Five really early in the season. It wasn't even explicitly stated, it was just a feeling from how they were setting up and framing things. Lila disagreeing with Diego and going to talk to Five. Lila keeping secrets from Diego that Five knew about. The tension of Five covering for Lila to Diego. Lila's dissatisfaction with her relationship with Diego and asking for a break. Without actively being romantically into Five, it kept setting up the narrative for Lila to leave Diego and Five was all tied in with what she was going to as an alternative to Diego. Add that to the promo pics with them together - even having watched it later and avoided spoilers I had a real bad feeling where this was going long before 4x5. (Or at least avoided until I already had my theory - my phone helpfully suggested an article days before I got to 4x5. I was not pleased to say the least.)

But there's a lot of reasons I take issue with this pairing and how it was done, so Christ, I guess let's get started:

Five explicitly stated in season 3 that Lila is not his type.

Five murdered Lila's parents. Sure, on the Handler's orders. But you think it's easy to have a romantic relationship when you know those hands killed your parents (aka my biggest critique of Tony/Bucky shippers in the MCU).

Five is indirectly responsible for the Handler's death. He saved everyone but her when he time traveled back. Sure, Lila was upset with her, but this woman raised her. She's got to have some complicated feelings about that and Five is all wrapped up in them now.

Five also had a weird relationship with the Handler, where she was a little flirty with him, which was all kinds of uncomfortable. Lila briefly mimicked this in season 3, which was even more uncomfortable. It's unclear if this was deliberately copying her "mother" or not. But adding Five and the Handler's complicated relationship on top of the other issues means there's a whole carousel of baggage to unpack here.

Five has always seemed kind of annoyed or tolerant of Lila, which extended into early this season. It's maybe a hair kinder at the start of season 4, but definitely not where it should be if there's potential here. It'd be one thing if they were friends after 6 years, but their relationship hasn't substantially changed at the start of this season to suggest otherwise.

If you have to do an all musical montage to show 2 characters falling in love, I'm sorry, you're not doing this right. That's telling, not showing. These characters have had tons of interactions to build off of. If you can't do that, then you're effectively saying that you have no foundation for this relationship.

Also, if it takes 6 1/2 years of being each others sole companions under adverse conditions for you to get together - maybe you shouldn't be together. It's one thing if it's treated like "Finally" or "Oh I didn't think you also felt this way". It's another if it's like it's a new idea entirely - that suggests loneliness and a desire for companionship and they're you're only option.

Five's history includes him having a pseudo-romantic relationship with a mannequin when he's left alone in the apocalypse at 13. The next time he's separated from his family for years he's with Lila. I'll allow that it makes sense he developed feelings for her specifically because of his history. That said, that makes this a wholly unhealthy relationship when he has a history like that. Lila is filling a gap Five's psyche has clung to before in similar harrowing times.

Frankly, the fact Lila was first looking for excitement out of her home life and is now upset she can't get back to her family isn't a good headspace either. (I'm also deeply frustrated that Lila feels trapped at home. Lila is so capable and she has a buttload of family members who apparently can take their children on a whim during all this chaos. You're telling me she couldn't have found a better outlet to work on their marriage or get some freedom before it got to this point of lying to Diego?)

Five is volatile and Lila is unpredictable. They're nothing but a menace to practically every other character they meet, including each other. But once they're a couple, they're perfectly pleasant the whole time. I don't buy it. The only fight they have is when Five lied to her. I'm not saying they can't be sweet. But this is all sweetness. For me to buy this couple they need to lovingly bicker. Instead, they've both had personality transplants.

So they decide to go back to the greenhouse after 6 years 5 months and 2 days. Five admits to having the book 5 or 6 months on their 7th anniversary of being lost. Let's be generous and assume they kissed within a couple days of getting to the greenhouse, because they look reasonably settled. That means that best case, Five decided that after being in a relationship for less than 2 months, he was going to throw his whole family away and run away with Lila. That is a hell of a lot of commitment for a short relationship.

And keep in mind, it's not like their family is safe. Last they heard, they hadn't solved the Cleanse. So they're either actively in danger or dead. Five - The man who spent 45 years trying to save his family. Who survived decades in the apocalypse alone (minus Delores the mannequin) and murdered his way through time for the chance to get back and save them - is going to let his family die for a 2 month relationship. I call bullshit.

Also, I will give Five credit that he tried to stay on task during the fight with the Cleanse. He only seemed to fight in retaliation for Diego - he actively looked towards the fight at least once before Diego pulled his attention. But you're telling me he's ready to keep fighting Diego and is threatening to kill him over Lila? That his powers only work correctly after 7 years of having them back because Lila begged him? I once again call bullshit.

And Five was going off to mope alone and never come back and potentially let his family die from an active threat, all because Lila didn't pick him? That is not the Five I know.

I also feel like we maybe did all this arc to get Lila to the point where Five has to convince her to stay because no one else could even if she hates him for it, but still get her family on the train to get the planned ending. And that feels very clunky and I hate it.

Outside of plot lines - it is a bit disturbing to me that we're pairing up an actor whose barely an adult with a woman 15 years his senior - practically old enough to be his mother. This is a aside from the fact he's a what, 71 year old man internally at this point and Lila (if we assume even living at the commission she's a similar age to Diego) is in her early 40s by the time she kisses a physically mid-20s Five. There's so much about that I am not okay with I don't even know where to start.

I also hear the writers wanted a romance for Five. First, okay, then have a longer season. Develop a character for Five earlier on in the season or the show you can pair him with. God knows with that history and age issues it'll be tricky. But also frankly - why? Why does Five need a romantic love interest? He's been fueled by the love of his family and that's done so many impressive things out of love for them. Not everyone needs a romantic love of their life to find happiness and it feels very heteronormative (is that the word I want?) that we need to have that for Five. Give Five an apocalypse-free world and his family alive and then we can see what happiness he can find.

[liillyliilly]

destiny has to be real kozume kenma x reader content; she runs into him, he feels his brain chemistry change (fluff) 1032 words

[i met you in the crowded city.]

Kuroo always liked to drag Kenma out into the streets of Tokyo, just so that he could experience real life every once in a while. The streets of Tokyo after it rained were always Kenma’s favorite. Because, there were always less people out and he could actually enjoy spending time with his friend. The rain dampens the concrete sidewalks, and the colors of numerous electronic ads flit across the ground.  

It had just rained, but some light drops were still falling from the sky. As Kenma and Kuroo walked, he could hear the way the wet ground sloshed against his shoes. When Kuroo said he needed to pick up some flowers for his girlfriend, Kenma nodded and said that he would stay right by the street sign. Pulling out his game console to beat a new level, Kenma leaned against the tall metal sign. The sounds of his game and the delicate drops of rain around him soothed his anxiety about being outside.  

Even if he didn’t express it often, Kenma had been feeling lonely, that's why he had agreed to spend time with Kuroo in the first place. His loneliness wasn’t that bad, but he did know the root of it. He needed someone to be content with. Shōyō, while he was nice and played games with him, was oftentimes much too intense to relax with. Kuroo, while he was understanding and tried his best to level out his passionate nature, he was just always expecting something more, something exciting. Kenma had started to think that he would be the only person to understand himself.  

All of his thinking though, distracted him. So when someone bumped into him, he was spooked and dropped his console. When he heard the plastic crack, Kenma cringed crouching down to inspect the damage.  

“Oh my goodness! I am so sorry! I totally wasn’t looking where I was going, this is all my fault. Is there anything I can do?” A girl’s voice exclaimed, and she crouched down as well. Kenma tried to avoid eye contact. So he just mumbled out a response.

“It’s fine.” He scooped up all the pieces and shoved them into his hoodie pocket. Standing up and turning his head to the side, he continued, “It’s not your fault. I blend in.”

“Me too.” Her voice was quiet, but Kenma could understand her perfectly. She stood up as well, shoving her hands into her jacket’s front pouch. Kenma resisted for a moment. Would it be worth it to meet a stranger’s gaze head on?

[it must be predestined, right?]

Meeting her eyes was the best decision he had made all week, or probably all month, maybe even all year. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he tried to find words to say. His hair fell into his eyes when he looked back down. Only to notice that she was holding out his game cartridge.

“Who's your favorite character?” Her voice was a little bit louder, but still held the same hesitance. As if she was holding back from accidently saying a wrong thing.

“What?” His brain short circuited, a pretty girl was talking to him? And she knew about his game?

“I saw that you play, you know, the video game? I play it too.” She had pursed her lips together as she held out the cartridge for Kenma to take. The fact she played it too only made Kenma more interested. Something about her was different from the other girls he knew. She held herself like she was afraid of hurting others, she stood unbalanced because she seemed to be missing a support. Just like Kenma.

The rain started to come down heavier again. Soaking both Kenma and the girl’s hair. Kenma looked around, and found a bench underneath a bus stop nearby.

“C’mon.” He started walking over to the bus stop. When the girl heard the thunder that cracked down she rushed to his side and grabbed his hand tightly. That’s when Kenma’s heart started to race. It was running against itself to get out of his ribcage.  

When they had finally sat down on the dry bench, the girl still hadn’t let go of his hand.  

She introduced herself with a wrinkle on her nose.

“I’m Kenma.” He said, glancing to their connected hands once again.

She let go of his hand, and Kenma missed the feeling of the squeeze she had forced onto his hand.

“You never answered my question. About your favorite character?” She stared outwards, looking at the cars that drove by, water rolling with the tire before crashing down again. The lights of Tokyo blurred and streaked with a scratchy grey filter.

[why don't we know each other?]

They talked for an hour. A perfect hour recorded in their memories. Everything they said was in the same realm, their own little realm. It was as if they were stuck in time, a bubble enclosed them together under that bus stop.  

“Wait seriously? You got lost in Miyagi, but know Tokyo like the back of your hand?” She covered her mouth to hold in the giggles that attempted to crawl out and wrap themselves around Kenma’s entire being.

“Pitiful huh?”

“Realistic. Never pitiful.” She complimented. Her words were like a fresh breath of air. Her words were like getting a new game to mess around with to try and figure out. And Kenma felt like he could spend his entire life playing her game and would never get bored.  

“How have I never met you before?” The words escape before Kenma could understand what they would insinuate.

It was what he wanted to say though, including the insinuation. He wanted to ask any sort of high ethereal being why they had held back from letting him meet her until now. Was it a punishment? But then again, meeting her now was sweeter than it could have been. Meeting at school would have been a missed connection. He met her when he was unaware and vulnerable. Just as it should be.

“It’s fate. That you and I were destined to meet now, and not earlier.” She closed her eyes and shook her head from side to side, “Sorry, that was really cheesy.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Don't be sorry, he thinks, because I think this is destiny too.

Kuroo had taken longer to get flowers, because Kuroo had taken one look at Kenma and Kenma's perfect stranger- and Kuroo had went home. (He could always text Kenma later he reasoned.)

[objectumnonsense]

robot oneshot, as requested VwV

The lab was dark, save for the dim neon light filtering in through the curtains and a singular work lamp in the corner of the room. Every few minutes, a train passed overhead, making the ceiling groan with the weight, but it was otherwise quiet. The lab's only two occupants sat without speaking, one in maintenance mode on a table and the other wearing thick, elbow-length rubber gloves and wielding a variety of delicate tools.

The Mechanic worked diligently and in near silence, save for softly humming a tune and occasionally blowing their hair out of their face while they worked on SN-0407-67. The only sounds coming from 67 were the hum of its fans and the occasional buzz of a wire being put in the wrong place, quickly corrected by the Mechanic.

After about half an hour, the Mechanic said, in a voice rough with disuse, "Exit maintenance mode," and a line of small lights blinked to life on the back of 67's neck. Its shutters flicked open and it turned its head right around to face the Mechanic.

"Is there a problem?" it buzzed.

"Well, I don't wanna catastrophize, but I'm lookin' through your lower back complex and I'm seein' some stuff that looks an awful lot like buzz bug eggs. Can you run a diagnostics check for me real quick?"

"Affirmative." In a blink of its shutters, it received data from all of its main systems and most of its secondary and tertiary programs and responded.

"Small loop errors in primary memory arrays. Minimal damage to recursive power wiring. Buzz bugs may be a possibility. Suggestion: analyze sample of offending material."

"Will do. Wanna go back to sleep?"

"Negative. We are almost done, correct?"

"If this don't turn out to be an infestation, yeah. What's got you so eager to leave?"

"Nothing. I simply do not enjoy being in maintenance mode for extended periods of time."

"Oh? Why's that?"

67 turned back around and allowed the Mechanic to pry open its back panel and delicately reach through its wiring with a pair of tweezers.

"I dislike being unaware of my surroundings for so long. It is against my purpose."

"It's necessary though, ain't it?"

"As is sleeping. But you are avoiding that now."

"Fair 'nuff."

The silence returned for a few minutes. The Mechanic extricated some pieces of material from 67's wiring and the gaps in their chassis while it sat perfectly still and nearly silent.

Abruptly, a small yellow light on their shoulder lit up and they said, "Your heart rate and breathing have increased."

"Huh?"

"Are you in distress? Is the infestation worse than you expected?"

"Oh, no, nothin' like that. If this is buzz bugs, we caught 'em real early. I could probably get all of this outta you before dawn."

"That is good."

They continued without speaking for a few moments more, the yellow light still turning on and off rhythmically, before 67 spoke up again.

"Your heart rate has not decreased."

"And I suppose I can't ask you to ignore that?"

"Negative. It is against my purpose."

"Right. First aid robot."

The Mechanic pursed their lips and tried to continue their work, but 67 kept talking.

"You hands are shaking slightly. Allow me to check your blood sugar content."

Before the Mechanic could respond, 67 had already completed the check.

"Blood sugar content within healthy range. Brain scan indicates higher than normal levels of oxytocin. Heart rate and breathing rate are increased, but have plateaued."

"Can't keep anythin' secret from you, huh?"

"Negative. You have poor control over your responses to emotion."

"Well, can't say I didn't try."

"Correct. You are still avoiding telling me the reason for your heightened emotional state."

"Would it hurt so bad to let this one go unmentioned?"

"A key to maintaining healthy relationships is communication between constituents. I am curious why you are acting differently."

"It's... complicated. It's a human thing."

"Mechanic, "human things" are my area of expertise. I will understand whatever you tell me."

"I just..." They sighed, but set their tweezers aside and brushed their fingers along a piece of 67's circuitry. "Can you feel this? When I'm workin' on you?"

"To an extent, yes."

"And does it... hurt?"

"Not unless something is damaged. It feels almost the same as when my exterior is touched."

"Almost?"

"There is a level of... trust involved. I trust that you will not break me, you trust that I will not close myself or shock you to injure you."

"When I do this..." the Mechanic traced the column of 67's spine with their index finger, "what is that like?"

"I fail to see why you are asking me again. Did I not just explain it?"

"I know, I know, just.. tell me what you feel me doin'."

"Alright."

A moment's pause.

"I feel you touching the outer shell of my spine. It holds much of my central processing power, which is why it's covered by thick metal plating. But I know you will not try to damage it."

"And now?"

"Now you're moving towards my power cell. It's a very powerful battery, and very fragile. But you will not damage it."

"Now?"

"You're reaching up through my chest cavity towards my transform arrays. This is where most of my proprioceptive senses are processed. It's also highly sensitive to touch. But you will not damage it."

The Mechanic let out a shaky sigh. The blinking yellow light on 67's shoulder began flashing more quickly. They noticed it was in time with their heartbeat.

"Your breathing and heart rate have increased steadily. Is there something you aren't telling me?"

They abruptly pulled their hand out of 67's back and stammered an apology.

"Sorry, I'm - sorry, that - that was kinda weird. I shouldn'ta -"

"It was not unpleasant."

Their words ground to a halt and they stared at the back of 67's head.

"You... motherfucker, you knew this whole time, didn't you?"

67 made a beep that sounded like a laugh.

"Negative. I only realized when I scanned you."

The Mechanic leaned their head against 67's shoulder with a clunk.

"And I couldn't get you to delete this whole interaction from your memories?"

"Negative."

The Mechanic sighed again and leaned back, rubbing their temples.

"Well, that's about it for your checkup anyways. We should probably get goin'."

"Mechanic, I would not refuse if you wanted to take this further."

The Mechanic froze. "Whuh?"

"I do not have the capacity to feel it the same way you do. But I understand it would be enjoyable for you. My purpose, after all, is to ease suffering."

"Wh - but - I - I'm not sufferin' about it, I just -"

"Mechanic."

67 rose and walked around the table, standing very close to the Mechanic and resting a careful hand on their hip. They swallowed thickly.

"We are the only ones in here. We have time."

The Mechanic let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. They raised a hand to 67's face plate and brushed their thumb along it.

"You're amazin', you know that? Just... incredible."

"I know," 67 replied, a playful lilt in its voice. "Tell me if you want me to stop at any point."

"Alright."

67 stepped even closer so that one of its legs was between both of the Mechanic's and they had to lean back against the table. One of their hands rested on 67's shoulder and the other settled on its hip.

67 hooked a thumb over the Mechanic's waistband and tugged down. Its other hand worked its way up their shirt and cupped their chest. It leaned its head down and bonked it gently on the top of theirs.

"Was that supposed to be a kiss?"

"Affirmative."

"You're such a dork."

67 hummed. Its movements remained smooth and steady, but the Mechanic distinctly heard its cooling fans pick up when it tugged their underwear aside.

"Could it be you're enjoyin' this too, 67?" they purred, lifting the hand that was on its shoulder to the back of its head, where they brushed over some of the exposed wires there. Its lower shutter twitched upwards.

"You do look... very nice. Under me like this."

"Mmm. Kinky." They spread their legs further and gasped when 67's searching hands found their bare skin.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah. It's just been a while. Go slow."

"Understood."

Gently, 67 started working its hand, and the Mechanic let out a quiet groan. They rolled their hips into 67's touch, grip tightening on its neck and making its shutter twitch again.

"Is - fuck - is that hurtin' you?" they asked.

"Negative."

"Want me to - to stop?"

"Nnegative."

At the stalling of 67's voice, the Mechanic raised an eyebrow. "Is it gettin' you off or s-something?

"N N N N - Unsure. My proproprocessor has encountered an error."

Experimentally, the Mechanic chose a wire and tugged on it - not enough to break it, but with enough force to pull it partially out of line. 67 jolted forward, making a buzzing sound the Mechanic had never heard before, and its hand dug harshly into their flesh, making them gasp.

"Arrre you alright?" it asked, stopping all motion. The Mechanic whined and pushed against its hand.

"Don't stop," they pleaded.

"One moment. I nnneed to check -"

The Mechanic tugged on the same wire again, creating the same reaction, and sighed with satisfaction.

"Memememechanic," 67 scolded, though the effect was somewhat lost due to the skipping in its voice.

"Keep goin'. I didn't tell you to stop."

"Make me."

The defiance caught the Mechanic off guard, but only for a moment. They glared up at 67.

"Y'know, you're real disobedient for a robot," they growled, finding a different wire and wrapping it around their finger. 67's shutters closed completely this time, its entire body jerking randomly for a moment before the Mechanic let the wire go again. "I thought you were s'posed to follow directions?"

"Youyouyou haven't said the magic word yet," 67 replied, though their hand had begun to move again.

"Make me cum, 67. That's an order."

"Affirmativvve."

The Mechanic cried out at the dizzying pace 67 suddenly set, hips rocking helplessly into its touch. Its name flowed from their lips like a hymn. 67 bore down on them, chest pressed to theirs, free hand supporting their back so they didn't fall.

"Yesyesyesyes, just like that, yes -!"

With a drawn-out moan, the Mechanic came hard, slumping back so that 67 had to adjust its hold on them, completely at its mercy as it kept up the harsh pace of its hand. It slowed to a stop the moment the feeling became too much and their groans of pleasure turned into whimpers.

The pair stayed like that for a moment, the Mechanic struggling to catch their breath and clinging to 67, whose fans were still going at top speed. It stared adoringly down at them, privately recording a short clip to replay later.

"Holy shit," the Mechanic finally breathed, pushing themself upward off of 67's arm. "That was... wow."

"I trust you enjoyed yourself?"

"Yeah. Jesus Christ. Are you... can I - is there anythin' I can do for you?"

"Negative. No part of me can experience anything close to sexual arousal, but I appreciate the consideration."

"So, just outta curiosity, what were the wires doin' to ya?"

That gave 67 pause.

"I'm... unsure. It's not a sensation I've ever felt before."

"Was it bad?"

"Negative. It was... novel. I'm not sure what to make of it."

"So what... would it be okay if I did it again?"

Another pause.

"...Affirmative. Please be careful."

"You know careful's my middle name."

The Mechanic lifted both of their hands and rested them on 67's neck. One slid its fingers over the exposed wires, still slightly out of place, making 67 beep and twitch.

"Why don't you try tellin' me what you feel?" they purred, finding a wire and winding it around their finger. 67 took a moment to respond, its voicebox making nonsense sounds before it could gather it to something intelligible.

"I I I I feel... dizzzzy? I think that wiwiwire has a role in proprioceptive data transfer. It's hard to to to to rrrecall at the moment."

"Mmm. And what about now?" the Mechanic asked, parting the wires and reaching deeper into 67's neck. They felt their finger make contact with cool metal, and 67 made a long, low tone until they lifted it.

"My my my my my centrrrral spinal casinnnnng. It's very sensensensitive to touch, which is is is why it's underrrrneath everything ellllse."

"You're startin' to sound pretty rough, 67."

"Hard to to to prrrocess speech at the momoment. Unsure how to parrrrse sensory dadadadata."

"Still don't want me to stop?"

"Affirrrmative. Want you you you touch furrrrther in me."

"Fuck, that's hot."

The Mechanic moved upward this time, under the plating on the back of 67's head with a muttered "keep your head down." 67's head briefly dropped limply downward, chin hitting its chest with a dull thunk, before the Mechanic hastily removed their hand and it looked back up at them.

"Why did you you stop?"

"That wasn't bad?"

"Negative. Want morrre."

"Oh, I see how it is." They resumed their probing, 67's head falling again, its voice struggling to express exactly what it was feeling.

"Hannnds in my in me touch ch ch ch mind feel I feel your hands," it managed, and the Mechanic bit their lip, looking up at it with adoration in their eyes.

"God, you sound fuckin' wrecked. I wish I knew I could do this to you sooner," they confessed. 67's optic flickered.

"Want want hands want touch morrre so so so much so want want want wannnnnnt -"

Abruptly, its voice dropped so low it was almost a buzz, its optic blinking out, hands in a vise grip on the Mechanic's hips while the lights on its body turned off all at once. Its fans continued on high for a moment more before they lowered to a more normal level and a noise like a dial-up played.

"Shit."

The Mechanic waited nervously while 67 rebooted, slowly releasing their hips before its optic blinked back to life, immediately zeroing in on them.

"Are you okay? Did I touch something I shouldn't've?"

"Negative. I am still processing. Please give me a moment."

After a second or two, 67 spoke again.

"Last sensation recorded before shutdown: foreign object inside cranial casing. Pressure applied to central tactile nerve. Systems overwhelmed." It blinked. "No memory lost. I am in no pain."

"So that tactile nerve thing -"

"I felt... everything. It's hard to explain."

"I think I get it. Don't worry."

"It was... good. I felt good. I would like to do this again sometime."

"Is right now a good sometime? 'Cause that was fuckin' hot."

67's optic widened slightly, disbelief creeping into its voice.

"Causing a temporary shutdown... made you aroused again?"

"It was more like making you get there. But yeah."

"Interesting. In that case..."

67 opened the maintenance panel on its chest, exposing a crisscrossing maze of wires and circuits to the Mechanic, who practically drooled.

"Help yourself to me."

[zylokv]

KEY TO CHAOS — myoui mina

❝ you're my spouse on paper, however you're not my responsibility.❞

synopsis — revelation at its finest.

word count ! — 6,4k

— myoui mina x reader !

notice — heavily inspired by @neoplatinum, aswell as cozuzi and a bit of queen of tears.

disclaimer ! — this story is a work of fiction. the portrayal of characters, events, and relationships does not reflect the real lives or personalities of any individuals mentioned. themes of infidelity and emotional conflict are explored, but the intention is not to glamorize toxic behavior.

series masterlist !

part four !

the event is in full swing, laughter and chatter filling the air as people mingle. mina’s family spared no expense, of course. the garden is illuminated with twinkling lights, tables laden with food and drinks, and a small orchestra playing softly in the background.

hiro sits on my lap, his small fingers curiously tugging at the bow tie around his neck. “you don’t like it either, huh?” i chuckle, loosening my own tie to match.

hiro rests easily in your arms, his tiny hand clutching at your tie as if it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever held.

“you’ve got quite the grip, little man,” you murmur, watching him curiously. “must’ve gotten that from your mom. she’s got the same tenacity—doesn’t let go of an argument either.”

hiro gurgles in response, his wide eyes fixated on you, and you laugh quietly. “oh, you think i’m kidding? wait until you’re old enough to see her in action. your mom’s like a storm, and you—” you brush a finger over his soft cheek, smiling. “you’re the calm after.”

“you’re really something, you know that?” sana’s voice interrupts gently from beside you, and when you glance over, she’s watching you with a faint smile.

“what can i say?” you reply, shifting hiro in your arms and giving her a wry grin. “he’s an easy audience. laughs at all my jokes.”

sana chuckles, reaching out to pat your shoulder lightly. “that’s because you���re talking about mina. everyone knows you’re a sucker for her.”

“oh, absolutely,” you say, pretending to whisper conspiratorially to hiro. “don’t tell her, though. she might start taking advantage of it.”

hiro babbles in agreement—or maybe dissent—and sana outright laughs this time, a soft, genuine sound that surprises you.

“you’re good with him,” she says after a moment, her tone quieter now. “and with mina.”

“i do my best,” you reply, glancing down at hiro again. “though sometimes i feel like i’m just making it up as i go.”

“well that's parenthood,” she teases, her hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment longer before she steps back, letting her gaze drift to the koi pond.

hiro coos again, and you look down to see him reaching for sana. “see? even he thinks you’re alright,” you say, grinning.

“well, he’s got good taste,” sana quips, but there’s a warmth in her smile that’s hard to miss.

as much as i’m enjoying the moment, i need a break. handing hiro over to sana, who happily takes him, i excuse myself and wander through the dimly lit paths of the estate.

my steps lead me to the side garden, quieter here, the sounds of the event muffled. i’m distracted enough that i don’t notice the figure until i bump into him.

“watch it,” i mutter, stepping back and glaring. it’s sehun.

his smug smile makes my blood boil instantly. “well, well,” he drawls, brushing off his suit. “if it isn’t the perfect spouse.”

“why are you even here??” i snap, already regretting not avoiding him.

he pulls a usb drive from his pocket, twirling it between his fingers before tossing it at me. i catch it, glaring at him.

“consider it a favor,” he says smoothly. “you saved me and my family from that scandal. think of this as my way of saving your life.”

my grip tightens on the usb. “what’s on here?”

“answers,” he says cryptically, his smirk widening. “but be careful. you might not like the questions.”

“why shouldn’t i knock you out right now?” i growl, stepping closer.

he shrugs, completely unfazed. “because you’re smarter than that. besides,” he adds, his voice dripping with fake sincerity, “i’m thankful. truly.”

without another word, he walks off, leaving me standing there seething and confused.

shaking my head, i pocket the usb and head to the bathroom. splashing cold water on my face, i lean against the sink, trying to make sense of what just happened.

eventually, i make my way back to the party. sana’s still there with hiro, now gently rocking him in her arms. she looks up as i approach, frowning slightly.

“you okay?” she asks, her tone laced with concern.

i hesitate but nod. “yeah. just… ran into someone.”

“seems like it rattled you.” she raises an eyebrow, watching me carefully.

“it’s nothing,” i lie, taking hiro from her arms and holding him close. but my mind’s already spinning, the usb in my pocket burning like a brand.

before i can dwell on it further, i feel a pair of familiar arms wrap around my waist from behind. “there you are,” mina murmurs, her voice low and warm against my ear.

i turn slightly, and she’s looking up at me with a smile that sends a rush of warmth through my chest. her lips brush against my jaw, lingering just a moment longer than usual.

“i missed you,” she says softly, her fingers tracing lazy patterns against my shirt.

“didn’t think i was gone that long,” i joke, but my voice comes out a little breathless.

“too long,” she counters, tugging me closer. her gaze flickers to hiro, and she presses a soft kiss to his forehead before turning her full attention back to me.

“you look stressed,” she observes, her hands sliding up to straighten my collar, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “maybe you should take a break from the party…”

“baby,” i start, but her lips are already brushing against mine, silencing whatever excuse i was about to make.

it’s quick, fleeting, but the promise in her gaze as she pulls back makes my pulse race.

“come find me later,” she whispers, her tone leaving little room for interpretation.

hiro babbles in my arms, pulling my attention back just enough to keep me grounded, but mina’s touch lingers like a ghost, her warmth impossible to ignore.

-----

the faint click of mina’s heels echoed through the penthouse as she stepped inside, her posture as poised as ever, though a hint of fatigue lingered in her movements. the day had been long—meetings at the myoui corporation rarely allowed for anything less—but the sight before her was enough to soften the sharp edges of her mood.

you were sprawled on the living room floor, hiro in your lap, both of you surrounded by a colorful mess of building blocks and toy cars. hiro squealed with laughter as you made exaggerated engine noises, pushing a tiny car toward him.

“incoming! brace for impact!” you said dramatically, making hiro giggle so hard he toppled over.

mina leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed, her lips curving into a rare, genuine smile. “hard at work, i see.”

“very important business,” you replied, glancing up at her with a playful grin. “hiro’s been giving me driving lessons. apparently, i’m a terrible driver.”

hiro chimed in with a cheerful babble, as if to prove your point, sending another car skidding across the floor.

mina chuckled softly, slipping off her heels and stepping closer. “sounds accurate.”

you feigned offense, placing a hand over your chest. “et tu, mina? my own wife, siding with the critic!”

hiro clapped his hands, clearly entertained by your theatrics. he made grabby hands reaching for mina.

she scooped him up effortlessly, holding him close. “hi, baby,” she murmured, her voice tender as she kissed his cheek. “did you miss me?”

hiro nodded enthusiastically, wrapping his tiny arms around her neck. the sight made your chest ache in the best way—a moment of softness amidst the chaos of life.

“you two looked like you were having fun,” mina said, glancing at the mess of toys.

“he’s a harsh boss, but the pay’s great,” you quipped, getting up and stretching. “all smiles and giggles.”

mina gave you a knowing look, her eyes softening. “you’re good with him,” she said quietly, almost as if the admission surprised even her.

you shrugged, trying to downplay the compliment. “he makes it easy.”

hiro yawned then, rubbing his eyes, his energy finally winding down. mina looked at you, and you nodded toward the nursery. “i’ll handle it,” you offered.

“let’s do it together,” she said, surprising you.

the two of you guided hiro to his room, the bedtime ritual filled with whispers and soft laughter. once he was settled, you kissed his forehead and stood back as mina brushed his hair gently, her expression unreadable yet serene.

when you stepped out, closing the door behind you, mina sighed lightly, the sound breaking the quiet of the hallway.

“we need to leave soon,” she said softly, slipping her arm through yours as you walked back to the living room. “the party is this weekend, and i don’t want us scrambling at the last minute.”

you chuckled. “scrambling is my middle name. but don’t worry, we’ll be ready.”

mina gave you a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. she glanced toward your office door, her fingers brushing her wrist. “i don’t know why, but… i’ve had this strange feeling all day. like something’s coming.”

“something good, i hope?” you joked lightly, trying to lift the mood.

“maybe,” she said, but her gaze lingered, just for a moment, on the small desk in your office, where a single usb drive sat, unnoticed. then she turned back to you, shaking her head as if to dismiss the thought. “let’s just enjoy tonight.”

you nodded, squeezing her hand. “sounds like a plan, boss.”

her smile grew, and with that, the two of you settled into the evening, unaware of the weight the future would soon bring.

-----

the gentle hum of the yacht’s engines barely masks the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses. you’re on the upper deck, sharing light banter with sana and momo while trying to stay out of the spotlight.

“you’re really not built for this scene, are you?” sana teases, her eyes flicking over the polished crowd below.

you shrug. “never claimed to be.”

momo chuckles. “at least you’re honest. i’d say you’re doing fine. no one’s thrown you overboard yet.”

just as you’re about to retort, a familiar voice interrupts. “wow. never thought i’d see you here.”

you freeze, the playful smile on your face faltering. turning slowly, you find yourself face-to-face with kim jennie, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. she’s dressed in something sleek and black, the kind of outfit that screams understated elegance.

“jennie…” her name feels heavy, like saying it aloud makes everything from the past resurface all at once.

“i didn’t know you’d climbed so high up the social ladder,” she says, her tone dripping with curiosity and something else—something smug. “this isn’t really your scene, is it?”

before you can respond, momo steps forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. “who’s this?”

“an old friend,” jennie answers for you, her gaze fixed on you, like momo isn’t even there. “we go way back.”

“really?” sana crosses her arms, her protective stance almost comical if it weren’t for the tension in the air.

you glance between them, your heart racing. “it’s fine. jennie’s… not a threat.”

jennie’s smile widens, and she steps closer, her voice dropping just enough to be intimate. “not a threat? you wound me.”

“what do you want?” you ask quietly, trying to ignore the way her presence makes you feel—conflicted, nervous, and a little exposed.

“what i’ve always wanted—to talk to you.” she glances at sana and momo with a faint smirk. “unless your new bodyguards don’t approve?”

“bodyguards?” sana scoffs. “oh, please.”

jennie chuckles, leaning in closer to you. “you’ve changed,” she murmurs, her voice soft but teasing. “but not completely. you’re still nervous.”

“i’m not—” you start, but she interrupts by wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a sudden, unwelcome hug. “i missed you,” she says, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.

that’s when mina appears.

the tension on the private deck feels suffocating, the hum of the yacht’s engines doing little to mask the storm brewing in mina’s sharp gaze. she stares at jennie for a moment, her confusion evident before her expression morphs into something closer to disdain.

“and you are?” mina asks, her tone icy, the slight tilt of her head exuding condescension.

jennie’s smirk falters for a fraction of a second before she recovers, her voice dripping with forced confidence. “kim jennie. i’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

mina blinks, her lips curling into a mocking smile. “oh, should i have? forgive me. the name doesn’t ring a bell. are you someone important?”

you glance between them, your heart sinking as you see jennie’s composure start to crack.

“important enough,” jennie replies tightly, her smirk struggling to hold. “but i suppose not everyone keeps up with those at the top.”

mina chuckles softly, shaking her head. “the top? darling, if you were anywhere near the top, i’d know. you’re barely even a blip on the radar.”

jennie’s expression hardens, her pride clearly stung. “funny, coming from someone who didn’t even know about their partner’s past.”

mina’s smile vanishes, her eyes narrowing. “and what exactly are you implying?”

“oh, just that your precious partner and i were engaged once,” jennie says smoothly, her gaze darting to you for maximum effect.

the air grows colder. mina’s laugh is low and dangerous, her hands slowly crossing over her chest. “engaged?” she repeats, as though the word itself is offensive. “to you? now that’s the funniest thing i’ve heard all evening.”

“it’s true,” jennie presses, taking a small step forward. “but i suppose they didn’t think you were worth knowing the whole story.”

mina’s eyes narrow to you, her rage sharpening like a blade. “engaged?” she spits, her voice teetering between disbelief and fury. “you were fucking engaged? not just a little girlfriend, but a full-blown fiancée?”

“mina, it’s not what it sounds like—”

“so, it is true,” she cuts you off, her voice low but seething. she turns back to jennie, her disdain reaching new heights. “you were engaged to them? how quaint. and yet here you are, clinging to their shadow like an embarrassing footnote.”

jennie bristles, her smirk dropping entirely. “careful, myoui. you might want to check your facts before acting so high and mighty.”

mina’s laugh is low and menacing, her fists clenching at her sides. “you think this is a joke? i could ruin you, kim. i could make sure the entire kim family crumbles beneath their precious name. your little corporation? gone. your face? wiped from every corner of the industry. you’d be lucky if you could scrape by selling knockoff jewelry on the street.”

“oh, come on,” jennie presses, stepping closer. “don’t be so mad. you didn’t think you were their first, did you?” her smirk deepens. “although, i’ll admit, i thought i’d be the last.”

“get out,” mina says through gritted teeth, her voice trembling with restrained fury.

jennie straightens herself, trying to retain some dignity she had left. “oh, mina. you’re so predictable. it’s almost boring.”

before anyone can stop her, jennie leans in, her lips brushing your cheek in a deliberate, calculated move.

the world seems to stop for a second, the touch burning like a brand.

and then mina snaps.

before anyone can react, mina grabs a glass of champagne off a nearby table and tosses it in jennie’s direction. the liquid splashes across her pristine black dress, and jennie lets out a shocked gasp.

“are you fucking insane?!” she roars, lunging toward jennie. you barely have time to grab her arm, holding her back with all your strength.

jennie steps back, scoffing slightly when she sees the tainted stain in her designer dress. “relax, mina. it’s just a goodbye. no harm in that, right?”

“goodbye? goodbye?! you’re about to say goodbye to your fucking career!” mina’s voice shakes with fury, her arm trembling in your grip. “let me go,” she snarls at you, her glare cutting like a blade. “let me fucking handle this.”

“mina, please,” you plead, your heart racing as you glance around, thankful that the deck is private. if anyone had witnessed this, the headlines would be catastrophic.

“you like making a scene, don’t you?” mina sneers. “well, here’s your fucking scene. you can explain to everyone why you’re soaking wet—and why you’re about to be thrown off this goddamn yacht.”

jennie’s eyes widen. “you wouldn’t—”

“try me,” mina snaps, stepping closer until she’s nearly nose-to-nose with her. “because right now? I’d love nothing more than to see you flailing in the fucking ocean.”

“mina, stop,” you beg, grabbing her arm.

“no! they don’t get to walk away like this!” mina turns her glare back to jennie, her voice dropping to a deadly calm. “you have five seconds to leave before i personally make sure the kim name gets wiped off every relevant ledger in korea.”

jennie chuckles, raising her hands in mock surrender. “well, this has been… entertaining.” she glances at you one last time, her smirk returning. “i see your taste hasn't changed”

and with that, she saunters away, leaving behind a storm of rage and chaos

“you listen!” she rounds on you, her hands shaking. “what the fuck was that? were you seriously just going to stand there like an idiot while your ex has the audacity to put her hands on you?”

“i didn’t ask her to—”

“but you didn’t stop her either!” her voice cracks, raw and vulnerable beneath the anger. “do you know how humiliating that was for me? do you even care?”

you open your mouth to respond, but her words keep coming, unstoppable and cutting.

“and her—the audacity she has to act like you’re still hers? does she not know who the fuck i am? do you not know who i am?” she steps closer, her eyes burning into yours. “because i can remind both of you. i’ll make her regret even looking in your direction, and you—you better start know where your loyalties lie, or so help me—”

“mina,” a voice cuts in, and you glance to see momo and sana standing nearby, both wide-eyed.

momo whistles low under her breath. “holy shit.”

sana, meanwhile, places a hand on your shoulder, her expression a mix of pity and slight amusement. “good luck,” she murmurs, patting you twice before stepping back.

mina turns to them, her glare making both of them tense. “what are you looking at?”

“nothing,” momo says quickly, raising her hands in surrender. “absolutely nothing.”

when they leave, mina’s shoulders heave with her rapid breaths.

“i can’t fucking believe this,” she mutters, her hands running through her hair as she paces. “unbelievable.”

you stand there, unsure of what to say, the weight of her anger settling like a storm cloud over the two of you.

“mina,” you say softly, careful not to push too hard.

“you don’t need to waste another second thinking about her,” you continue. “she’s nothing compared to you, mina. you know that, don’t you?”

mina exhales sharply, crossing her arms as she paces. “it’s not about her being nothing—it’s about the audacity. she thinks she can just—just touch you, talk to you like that, after everything? and then act like i’m the one overreacting?”

you step into her path, gently catching her by the shoulders. “you’re not overreacting. she crossed a line, and you had every right to put her in her place.”

mina’s gaze flickers to yours, searching your expression for something.

“but,” you continue, “i don’t want you to carry this anger. it’s not worth it. let me handle her from here, legally and otherwise. you don’t need to waste your energy on someone so beneath you.”

she huffs, her frustration ebbing slightly. “and what if she tries something again?”

“she won’t,” you say firmly. “i’ll make sure of it. if she does, she’ll regret it in ways even she can’t imagine. i’ve handled worse than her, mina. trust me.”

mina’s lips press into a thin line, but the tension in her shoulders eases just a little.

you guide her to the seating area on the deck and gently sit her down, kneeling in front of her. “you’ve been carrying this whole night on your shoulders, haven’t you? dealing with guests, smiling for appearances, and then this? you don’t have to do it alone, mina.”

she exhales, leaning back slightly as she studies you. “you think you’re so smooth, don’t you?”

you shake your head. “I’m not going to let her get away with this.”

mina lets out a low, humorless laugh. “you think she cares about laws? she’s shameless.”

“then i’ll make her care,” you reply, your voice hardening. “if she tries to push her luck again, i’ll file a restraining order. Hell, i’ll drag her through court for every slight against you. I’m a lawyer, mina. i know how to win, and i’ll do it for you.”

mina stares at you, her anger simmering down into something else—something softer.

“and another thing,” you add, stepping even closer. “you’re worried about her touching me? don’t be. i didn’t ask for it, and i sure as hell didn’t want it. you’re the only one who has a place in my life, mina. not her. not anyone else.”

mina exhales sharply, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “you always know exactly what to say, don’t you?”

for the first time all night, a genuine smile tugs at her lips, even if it’s faint. she reaches out, her hand brushing yours. “you really are lucky i married you.”

“luckiest person alive,” you reply, standing and offering your hand.

she takes your hand, rising gracefully to her feet. “fine. but don’t think i’ve forgiven you for not telling me about her being your ex-fiancée.”

“i’ll make it up to you,” you mumble, squeezing her hand lightly. “as many times as it takes.”

“you’re dangerous,” mina mutters, but there’s a hint of pride in her voice.

“only when someone messes with you,” you reply, leading her back inside.

-----

you’d never been one for early morning jogs, but with hiro gone with sana, as well as mina gone working for a few hours, it seemed like a good way to clear your head. sweat dripped down your temple as you trudged up to the penthouse door, already regretting not bringing water. as you reached for the handle, your eyes snagged on a package sitting neatly on the doormat.

a box.

not just any box—fancy. clean lines, rich leather accents, and a ribbon so perfectly tied it looked like it had been crafted by angels.

your first thought? "is this a bomb?"

but then again, what kind of assassin spends that much on aesthetics? shaking your head, you muttered under your breath, “no way someone’s going full james bond to take me out. right?”

after a long, overly dramatic stare-off with the box, you picked it up and carried it inside.

“okay, you’re being ridiculous,” you said, setting it on the counter. “it’s probably from mina. or…. mina..?” you trailed off, suddenly unsure.

peeling back the ribbon, you found a letter on crisp, expensive paper, no signature, no name. just a simple line:

"for you. something that matches your worth."

“cryptic. love that,” you muttered, fishing through the box.

and then, your heart stopped.

a pair of ferrari car keys rested snugly in velvet, gleaming like they held the secrets of the universe.

your jaw dropped. “no way.”

half-jogging, half-sprinting, you grabbed your phone and bolted to the building’s parking level. a sleek ferrari sf90 sat under the dim lights, its pristine red exterior practically glowing.

“holy shit,” you whispered, fumbling with the keys. a quick press, and the car chirped in response.

it was real. it was yours.

sliding into the driver’s seat, you couldn’t resist pulling out your phone, snapping a picture as you grinned like an idiot, one hand on the steering wheel. you sent it to mina with a simple caption:

"look what showed up today!"

mina’s reply came fast. "you bought this? without telling me?"

your fingers hovered over the screen, your excitement faltering. “wait. mina didn’t you buy it?”

before you could type more, your phone ringed. it was her.

“hello?” you answered, still grinning.

“you didn’t buy it?” her voice was calm, but there was an edge—cold, sharp. “then who did?”

“i thought it was you,” you said, scratching your head. “i mean… it’s my dream car. you didn’t—?”

mina’s silence was deafening. then: “why would i buy you a car and not tell you?”

“uh…”

“and why would someone else buy it for you? who?” she demanded, her voice dipping into that dangerous, territorial tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

“mina, i don’t know!” you said, defensive. “it came with an anonymous note! look, i’ll figure it out. but isn’t it gorgeous?”

“that’s not the point,” she snapped, and then, softer, with a touch of embarrassment, “i didn’t even know it was your dream car.”

“well, now you do,” you teased lightly, though her reaction had your heart sinking just a little.

she exhaled, clearly annoyed. “don’t touch it until we figure out who sent it. i don’t like this.”

“seriously?” you whined, slumping in the seat. “you’re going to make me leave it here?”

“yes,” she said firmly, then hung up before you could argue.

sighing, you stared at the car’s flawless interior. “well, this sucks,” you muttered, reluctantly stepping out.

as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back, a pang of longing twisting in your chest. whoever sent this wasn’t just rich—they had taste. but something about it didn’t sit right.

and mina’s unease? it wasn’t going anywhere.

-----

mina’s office was immaculate, its minimalist decor reflecting the precision with which she managed her empire. she leaned back in her leather chair, phone still clutched tightly in her hand. the call with you had ended minutes ago, but the sharp edge in her voice lingered, echoing in the silence of the room.

“dahyun.”

the door to her office creaked open, and dahyun stepped in hesitantly, clutching a tablet. her composed exterior betrayed a flicker of unease as she caught sight of mina’s expression—cold, calculating, and ever so slightly unsteady.

“yes, president myoui?” dahyun’s voice was even, though her fingers tightened around the tablet.

mina didn’t look up immediately. her nails tapped against the desk in a rhythm that matched the clipped cadence of her words. “i need you to go to the penthouse. now.”

dahyun blinked, processing the suddenness of the order. “to… your penthouse? is there an issue?”

mina’s gaze snapped up, and dahyun stiffened under the weight of it. “someone sent them a car,” mina said flatly. “a ferrari.”

“a car?” dahyun echoed, momentarily thrown off. “as in—”

“a ferrari sf90,” mina interrupted, the words laced with a bitterness that made dahyun’s stomach churn. “in red. parked at the entrance of my penthouse.”

dahyun’s jaw tightened as she nodded. “understood. i’ll—”

“find out who sent it,” mina continued, her voice cutting through dahyun’s attempt to speak. “i want every detail—who, how, why. and i want their connections traced. personal, professional, everything.”

“of course,” dahyun said quickly, her pen already moving across her tablet.

“also…” mina’s voice dipped, a hint of something darker curling around the edges. “reach out to ferrari’s local representatives. find the top five models—not just any. the best. i want them bought, prepped, and delivered within the week.”

dahyun froze for a fraction of a second before nodding. “for the penthouse garage?”

mina finally leaned forward, her elbows resting on the desk as she steepled her fingers. her expression softened, but only slightly, as she murmured, “for my spouse. but make sure they know it’s from me. no anonymous packages, no surprises. understood?”

“understood.” dahyun turned to leave but hesitated at the door. “president myoui, if i may—do you believe this is a threat?”

mina’s gaze flickered, just for a moment, betraying the undercurrent of unease she so carefully concealed. “if it’s not a threat, it’s a provocation. either way, i don’t take kindly to either.”

dahyun nodded and exited swiftly, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

alone once more, mina stared out the vast glass windows of her office. her reflection gazed back, a mask of calm, but beneath it, her mind raced. who would dare try to undermine her like this?

she tapped her phone against the desk again, lips pressing into a thin line.

whoever it was, they’d soon learn what it meant to challenge a myoui.

-----

you toss your phone onto the couch after finishing the call with mina, her cold tone still lingering in your mind. grabbing a towel, you wipe the sweat off your neck, muttering to yourself, “ferrari drama—what even is my life now?”

the shower feels like a reset button, washing away the lingering tension. when you step out, you grab your phone again, scrolling aimlessly through your messages. your thumb hovers over sana’s chat. she’d probably have something sarcastic to say about the whole ferrari thing, and honestly, you kind of want that right now.

how’s hiro? terrorizing everything already?

it takes less than a minute for her to reply.

of course. he takes after you. he’s currently declaring war on some poor stuffed giraffe.

you chuckle, shaking your head as you pace around the living room, still drying your hair. boredom creeps in, and before you know it, your fingers are typing again. yeah, and i have some drama to tell you. drama? oh, you’re coming over. hiro misses you anyway.

you don’t need more convincing. grabbing your keys, you head out, opting for a casual drive to sana’s place.

when you arrive, you open the door quickly while it swings open. hiro waddles toward you, his tiny hands outstretched.

“there’s my guy!” you scoop him up, laughing as he babbles something incomprehensible. sana leans against the doorframe, watching with a smirk.

“wow, i can tell you spoil him,” she says, closing the door behind you.

“can you blame me?” you joke, setting hiro down as he toddles back to his toys. you flop onto the couch, letting out a dramatic sigh. “so, where’s momo?”

sana shrugs, plopping down in a chair across from you. “dunno. she said something about errands. why, you miss her?”

“not particularly,” you say, smirking. “besides, i came here for the better company.”

“flattery will get you nowhere, and i'm saying that to momo,” she quips. “so, what’s this drama you were dying to tell me about?”

you lean back, running a hand through your hair. “someone gave me a ferrari.”

sana blinks, then bursts into laughter. “wait, wait, hold on. someone gave you a ferrari? what are you, a lottery winner now?”

“i wish,” you say, shaking your head. “no idea who it’s from. it just showed up at my doorstep with a fancy box and a key.”

“and you just… took it?” sana looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“what was i supposed to do? leave it there and risk someone else taking it?”

“wow.” she leans back, crossing her arms. “so, let me get this straight. someone mysteriously sends you a car, and instead of thinking, ‘this is sketchy,’ you think, ‘free ferrari’? you’re unbelievable.”

you shrug, grinning. “what can i say? i like nice things.”

hiro, oblivious to the conversation, crawls onto your lap, clutching a toy car in his tiny hands. “look, hiro already approves,” you say, holding up the toy. “he’s clearly a car enthusiast, just like me.”

sana rolls her eyes, laughing. “you’re both ridiculous.”

“ridiculous? or ahead of the curve?” you shoot back, bouncing hiro gently on your lap. “you’re just jealous no one sent you a ferrari.”

“oh, please.” sana leans forward, resting her chin in her hand. “even if someone did, i wouldn’t be dumb enough to actually drive it. what if it’s, like, a bribe or something?”

you snort. “a bribe? for what? to win over my nonexistent loyalty?”

“i mean, you are a lawyer,” she says, smirking. “who knows what shady deals you’re unknowingly part of?”

“says the woman who’s friends with someone who owns a ferrari.”

“correction—mysteriously owns a ferrari,” she quips, her grin widening. “and for the record, you’re lucky mina didn’t immediately torch the thing out of spite.”

you pause, recalling mina’s initial reaction. “oh, she was mad.”

“mad? understatement of the year,” sana says, leaning back with a knowing look. “you know, if i were her, i’d be freaking out, too. mysterious car, anonymous gift, my partner looking all cute— it’s a recipe for disaster.”

“cute?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow.

“oh, don’t let it go to your head,” she says, waving you off. “i’m just saying mina’s reaction is totally valid. i mean, who wouldn’t feel a little threatened?”

“right, because i’m so irresistible,” you joke, rolling your eyes.

“hey, your words, not mine.”

hiro clung to your neck like a koala, his little hands tugging gently at your shirt. you sat back on the couch, settling him on your chest while sana perched on the armrest, her gaze curious.

“okay, spill,” she said, crossing her arms. “who sends you a ferrari? is it someone trying to one-up mina or what?”

you snorted, running a hand through hiro’s soft hair. “god, i hope not. mina was already ready to storm the gates when i told her about it.”

sana leaned closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “so you really don’t know who sent it? no guesses?”

“none.” you shrugged, trying to seem indifferent even though you could tell sana was practically vibrating with curiosity. “it’s probably nothing. mina doesn’t even want me driving it. she said she’d ‘take care of it.’”

“take care of it?” sana echoed, raising an eyebrow. “that sounds ominous.”

“it’s mina. ominous is her second language.” you smirked, glancing at hiro, who was now dozing off. “besides, it’s not like i’m keeping it. mina thinks it's ridiculous. I'd say she's just jealous.”

sana shook her head, her laugh light but tinged with disbelief. “you’re way too chill about this. if someone sent me a ferrari, i’d at least want to know who thought it was worth it to give me something like that”

“that’s because you’re nosy,” you teased, adjusting hiro carefully. “i’m just trying to survive mina’s jealousy and keep the peace.”

sana rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. “whatever, mystery car owner. just know, if it were momo, she'd be driving that thing straight out of the city before mina even got a whiff of it.”

“yeah, and she'd probably crash it before she hit second gear,” you shot back, earning a playful swat to your shoulder.

as the playful banter subsided, you glanced down at hiro, whose peaceful face was a stark contrast to the storm of events swirling around you lately.

“he’s really got you wrapped around his little finger, huh?” sana remarked softly, watching you.

“yeah,” you murmured, your voice fond. “can’t say i mind, though.”

sana smiled, her usual mischievousness giving way to something warmer. “you’re good with him. i can see why mina fell for you.”

you glanced up, surprised by her sincerity, but she quickly waved you off with a smirk. “don’t let it get to your head. you’re still a pain.”

“thanks, sana,” you deadpanned, shifting to lay hiro down gently on the couch.

the conversation fizzled out as you both sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day settling in. still, you couldn’t help but feel that the mystery surrounding the car—and the sender—wasn’t over yet.

-----

you’re sprawled on the living room floor, glasses perched low on your nose, dressed in an old white t-shirt and grey sweatpants that have seen better days. hiro sits cross-legged beside you, his tiny hands fumbling with the colorful puzzle pieces you’ve been trying to help him with.

“it’s this one,” you say, pointing to a bright red piece. “look at the edges. see how it matches?”

hiro scrunches his face in determination before carefully slotting the piece into place. his delighted squeal is worth every second of the struggle.

“genius,” you declare, dramatically clapping your hands. “einstein would be jealous.”

“you really know how to hype someone up,” mina’s voice floats from behind you.

you glance over your shoulder to see her leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smile on her lips. she’s dressed in a sleek coat and tailored pants, every inch the composed heiress, but the fondness in her gaze softens her usual edge.

“hey, if you’ve got it, flaunt it,” you shoot back, pushing your glasses up. “though between the two of us, i’m not sure who’s rocking this look better.” you gesture at yourself, all rumpled and casual.

“no contest,” she quips, stepping into the room. “you win. i love when you wear your glasses"

hiro toddles over to her, raising his arms for her to pick him up. she obliges, balancing him on her hip with practiced ease.

“i need to head out,” she says, her tone casual. “dad's been missing hiro, and i thought… why not?”

you nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “i've heard. but good luck getting him to sit still in the car. he’s been full of energy all morning.”

“i think we’ll manage,” she replies, leaning in to brush a kiss against your cheek. “don’t work too hard while we’re gone.”

“me? overwork? never,” you joke, watching as she heads for the door.

the door closes behind them, and the apartment feels eerily quiet. you linger for a moment, staring at the spot where they stood, before heading to your office to skim through some briefs.

but as you sit down, your eyes fall on a small usb drive resting near your keyboard.

you’d forgotten all about it.

you pick it up, turning it over in your fingers. it’s nothing special—just a plain black drive—but your mind immediately goes to sehun. he’d handed it to you a week ago with a cryptic smile and a vague, "but be careful. you might not like the questions."

curiosity gnaws at you as you pick it up and plug it in. the screen flickers, and a folder opens automatically, revealing a list of files.

you scroll through, your frown deepening with every name you read.

dec7_met.docx.

p.i_report.pdf.

report_m_final.zip.

a strange, creeping unease settles over you as you spot a file named

{redacted ;)}

your chest tightens.

clicking on it reveals more files: a string of emails, blurry photos, and video clips. your heart pounds as you scan the dates—one in particular standing out.

{redacted ;)}

hovering over a video file, you hesitate. the cursor trembles, and every instinct screams at you to stop.

but you don’t.

you click.

the screen darkens, and the video starts to play.

-----

end of part four.

a/n — i'm so sorry for publishing late lmao i've been busy with school because for some reason school already started and we have no break ;-; AND ITS ALMOST MY BDAY GRAHHHHHHH

[judysxnd]

The lie detector interview, part two

I haven’t updated since new years so happy new year!! Better late than never 😳

There are only two parts for this story, so don’t expect a third one!

———————————————————————

“Now you’re not laughing as much as you did huh?” You teased as Pedro was sitting in front of you, being settled with wires and such.

“Ha ha” he fake laughed, which made you laugh.

“Is he ready?” You asked to the lady as she was sitting back to her place.

“Yes”

“Okay mister Pascal, is your full name Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal?”

“Yes it is” he said, relaxed, smiling at you

“Are you from Chile?”

“Yes”

“Okay I think we’re good” you smirked “now let’s get started”

“Don’t enjoy this too much”

“Oh like you didn’t” you read the first question. “You said in a previous interview that you weren’t watching yourself, like the shows or movies you were in, anymore.” You said, insisting on the “anymore”. “But did you used to do it before?”

“Yeah I did it a little, to kind of see my performance you know, not in an egocentric way” he laughed

“Did you ever watch the sex scenes to see what you actually looked like?” Pedro wheezed at the question

“Oh this is a hundred percent not a real question” he tried to grab the paper, but you moved away.

“Don’t doubt the questions. Just answer”

“No I did not” he immediately looked at the lady. She hesitated for a few seconds.

“Inconclusive” you bursted out laughing

“No wait no! That’s not why I watched!”

“You don’t have to justify yourself you know”

“Oh but I think I really do right now” you both couldn’t stop laughing

“At some point those scenes were coming up anyway!”

“Yeah sure, if it helps you sleep at night” you said still laughing

“Oh man”

“Not that confident anymore are you?”

“Shut up” he laughed, looking on his side.

“Okay next question” you got a little more serious reading the question “What do you think about people making remarks about the age gap between you and Bella?”

“They can f-” he looked at the camera but didn’t finish his sentence. you chuckled. “There’s no such thing, like I understand why it can be shocking like especially in romantic relationships, that’s why we-” Pedro stopped, wide eyes looking at you. You were making the same face. “As I want to say, there will always be unhappy people criticizing what you do, so love your life, do what you want” Pedro started to blush a little, avoiding eye contact and not looking at the camera. He grabbed his sweatshirt a little, he was getting hot.

“I completely agree” you said smiling. “Do you think I’m a good actress?”

“Of course, I think you’re an excellent actress” you blushed at his response.

“I don’t even need to have confirmation” you said smiling at Pedro. He had this little spark in his eye, making it hard for you to focus. “Do you regret anything that you did?”

“Like some roles I did or in general?”

“Roles”

“Oh thank god” he joked, “hm, I don’t really think so. Looking back at it yeah some of them I think it’s a little too much, but it’s part of my career, I don’t regret doing them” you looked at the lady.

“It’s true”

“That’s beautiful” you said “always finding the positive side of everything” you added, looking intensely at him. He smiled.

“I got to, life’s hard enough”

“True”

“But if I might add” he laughed “If I was asked today to do some of the roles, I think I would say no for some, but I don’t regret doing them, if that makes any sense.”

“Yeah I see, like you grew up, matured in a way that it doesn’t correspond to you anymore”

“Yes! She understands me so well” he said at the camera, you couldn’t help but blush, hiding behind the paper

“Next question! How did we first meet?”

“Oh shit” you both laughed “I can’t say it”

“Oh you have to” Pedro stared at you, hesitating for a while. Seeing you were not giving it up, he gave in.

“Okay.. well- Oscar threw a party at his house, I was there, y/n was there too, and I went to the bathroom to, well relieve myself, I don't remember much I was very drunk”

“Yeah you were” you chuckled

“You were too”

“Please keep going” you said before he could add anything embarrassing about you

“And you can probably guess where it's going but she entered as I was on the.. toilet” you laughed

“What a great way to introduce himself” you joked, looking at the camera. “And that’s not the worst part”

“You’re making me say the entire story?”

“Oh yes I am”

“You know it's actually more embarrassing for you after that right?”

“It’s bad for both of us. But whatever, they should know the truth” he rolled his eyes “It was so funny” you couldn't stop laughing

“Don’t laugh too much, because when you tried to leave, you knocked yourself out with the door. I don't even know you could hit yourself with the door” you suddenly stopped laughing.

“At least I wasn't half naked” now he was the one who stopped laughing “in my defense I was drunk and shocked. There was Pedro pascal in front of me! I panicked” Pedro couldn’t stop laughing

“But she really did knock herself, like she fell onto the floor, and I think you blacked out for a few minutes” he said looking at the camera, laughing a little

“I didn’t black out but I was also pretty drunk and I just didn’t.. move” you laughed. you both shook your head, laughing

“Moral of the story, don’t drink alcohol” Pedro joked, pointing at the camera. You both laughed.

“Yeah we were really drunk. I don’t even know how we remember that actually. I do remember that you tried to touch me without washing your hands first” Pedro’s eyes widened

“What?”

“Yeah you tried to “woke me up” or something, but you didn’t wash your hands!”

“Well sorry I your health was more important. I was drunk but not dumb” they laughed “wait! I remember you said something about it! Your voice was low and you said “wash you hands first”

“Oh my god yes!” You laughed even harder

“This has to be the worst way of meeting people possible” Pedro admitted

“Yeah, it was embarrassing” you laughed. “Alcohol..” you sighed “it makes you do weird things” you chuckled

“But well, look at where it got us. Years of friendship and now months of dating, it didn’t stop us” you were shocked at what he just had said. Your smiled dropped.

“Did you just reveal that we were dating?” Pedro realized what he did. You were both looking around you, at the crew, very surprised by the bomb that just dropped.

“I guess.. I did?”

“Oh well, cannot be worst than the story we just explained” you joked.

“It had to be done at some point since you teased it during one of your interviews a while ago” you nodded and rolled your eyes. You were shaking a little as you didn’t expect that to happen, and starting to think about what would come next once the interview was out.

“Okay last question, to end this torture. Did you lie at any point during this interview but we didn’t catch you?”

“No I did not” you both turned to the lady

“It is true”

“I wished I did though, especially for our meeting”

“It would have been less embarrassing indeed” you both laughed. You looked at the camera. “Okay well I guess that’s it. We hope you enjoyed the video”

“You can obviously tell that we did” Pedro joked, looking at the camera

“I can’t believe we actually revealed the first time we saw each other” you said putting the paper on the table. “Now we have to live with the fact that the entire world knows how we met”

“Well, you didn’t have to ask me you know, we could have avoided that”

“Had to get my revenge. And it’s more embarrassing for you than for me” you laughed, before standing up. “And also, you could have just lied, tell a fake story”

“But I would have been caught, and I would have had to tell the true story at some point”

“True true”

“But we just don’t care” Pedro added, you laughed, as the lady started to remove the wires from him. "And it was actually more embarrassing for her" he whispered to the camera, before it stopped rolling.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Habits 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Andy Barber, Cole Turner (Professor AU)

Summary: your life is thrown into chaos after a night out goes awry.

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all.

The incessant beeping stabs at your brain. Goddamn. You must have left your alarm on!

Your head swims at the thought of moving but you can’t listen to that anymore. You flail your arm out, goosebumps rising in the cold air, as your hand catches on something. 

“Ermph,” you grumble at the bite on the back of your hand. 

You open your eyes bur just as quickly close them. No. You shudder and peek out through the slits of your eyelids. It’s bright. Too bright. Oh shit. 

You make yourself look completely. There’s an IV inserted in the back of your hand, the beeping from another machine at your bedside. Your throat is raw and your mouth tastes funky. Every inch of you hurts. 

No. It can’t be real. You’re in a hospital. You stare at the ceiling and try to remember last night. The lights, the music, the crush of bodies... 

Damn it, Mercedes, that pill definitely doesn’t mix with alcohol.  

You sit and wait, unsure of what else to do. The nurse comes to check on you. She asks you basic, rigid questions. There’s little empathy in her touch or ‘how are you feeling?’ She explains that you were brought in with alcohol poisoning. 

After checking your reflexes, your blood pressures, and heartbeat, she detaches you from the IV. She suggests you stay hydrates and not to kindly says to avoid alcohol. She tells you you’re cleared to go and leaves. 

You’re embarrassed. You can’t believe it got to this. You always said you would never get that bad. Worse, you’re all alone. Mercedes isn’t here. You wonder if she even knows what happened. What if you hadn’t been brought to the hospital? What then? 

You walk out in your mini skirt and the hospital gown. Your shirt is completely missing. You have only your purse and clunky heels, both of which stink. 

As you sit on the bus, you want to cry. Your loneliness sets in. And reality. You could’ve died and it would’ve been all alone in that hospital room. Aside from that, you wouldn’t have even known. It all just would’ve been gone. 

You get off at campus and keep your head down. You wind around Greek Row and enter the dorm building. You climb the stairs with an effort as your stomach lurches. There’s a hot pain inside of you that just won’t go away. 

By the time you get into your dorm, you’re nauseous. You’re too empty to vomit. You dump your things in your room and tie on your fluffy robe. You go to get a glass of water. You need coffee but not that instant acid you keep in your cupboard. 

It’s early. Too early for Mercedes. You don’t even know if you could face her. You’re angry and yet it isn’t your fault. You vaguely remember the bartender telling you to stop. Then it’s all muddy. 

You finish the water and get in the show. You can wash away the grime of sweat, alcohol, and other things you don’t want to name, but the same lingers. You can’t blame anyone but yourself. It’s not like you didn’t have a million warnings. 

As you get to your room, you hear your phone buzzing. You sit on the bed and pluck it out of your purse. Shit. It’s your mother. And, you remember, your emergency contact. 

You answer on speaker. 

“Mom--” 

“What the fuck is this!? I wake up to a goddamn voicemail from a hospital?! Are you insane?” She shrieks. “Coral. You are so fucking lucky I’m not driving down there right now. Is this what you’re doing with your fucking life? When I'm paying for you to get an education! When I have to work in two hours just to pay for your fucking party nights?!” 

You sit and shrink down as you take in her furor. You just stare at the phone. You deserve this but it’s also not unusual. Your mother only ever communicates in wails and roars. 

“I would say I can’t believe you but you’ve always been a fuck up,” she barks. “Get your shit together, girly, or it’s over. Got it?” You hear her huffing and puffing angrily. You cower instinctively, even though she can’t hit you through the phone. “Don’t fucking call me.” 

She hangs up before you can even try to apologise. The sorrys and tears only ever made her worse. You drop your phone and cradle your head. 

You have class. Not until noon. You planned it well. You could go out, get lit, and have enough steam to make it through the week one snooze fest. Nope. You’re not getting any sleep. 

You get dressed; a cropped sweatshirt and leggings, and pack up your knapsack. You’ll go get a coffee and something light. Crackers or whatever. Anything more and you might dissolve into the mess you are. 

As you walk across campus, you try to think. It’s so weird. You remember patches of last night but nothing connects. And there’s something that’s missing. You don’t know what but it tugs at your brain. There was something else... 

The cafeteria is closed but the cafe is open. You get your coffee and a plain bun. The cashier looked at you oddly as you asked for a breakfast sandwich with no fillings. You sit and nibble as you stare blindly across the empty tables. 

God, you feel hollow. Like you’ve been gutted.  

What do you do now? Where do you go? Is this the point when you change? When you hunker down and live a boring life? That sounds awful. Is that what it means to grow up? You have to live with your head in books and drag yourself through every dull day. 

You don’t want to be your mother. You don’t want to be angry and resentful because you ended up in a dead-end office with an asshole boss. Well, if you’re not going to that, maybe it is time you got your head on straight. If you’re going to be a PR lawyer, you can’t be waking up in a hospital bed with a pumped stomach. 

And you’re going to need to get some new friends. 

[dreamsofbroflovski]

yo…hear me out..

what the main four or others (as long as kyles in it..) are like for new years celebrations!

happy 2025 yall. let’s cook.

oh look its kyle bufflobster on that gif. my personal enemy.

Happy 2025!!! Hope everyone's having a great time already! As for me, I managed to drink cider that's been expired since 2021. It's going swell.

My first request for headcanons! I don't even know if I did these right, but I really did rack my brain. I also added some words about how they'd be with the reader because why not.

MAIN FOUR HEADCANONS - NEW YEAR'S CELEBRATIONS

𓆩♡𓆪 STAN MARSH

First thing that needs to be said: this man is pissed off days in advance over fireworks - if he has any pets, he has to make absolutely sure they’re safe and secure before anything else. He’s that guy who’s very vocal about how bad they are for animals (doesn’t really mention their effects on people), has probably tried to get them banned completely at some point.

Now that that’s out of the way. I think he’s the type to stay holed up in his home, order takeout and treat it as just another evening. 

With the exception that he’ll have an excuse to drink a whole lot of cheap champagne without anyone being up his ass about it.

Avoids his family altogether, mostly due to his father wanting to go absolutely wild on the holiday, he needs to be far away from all that.

He’s not opposed to attending a party and being around his friends, but will not actively seek that out.

And if he’s partying, he’s gonna go blackout drunk and probably miss the actual turn of the year - only to try and drunkenly state his well wishes (or personal grievances) to everyone half an hour later when the whole thing has pretty much died down.

Thumbs up reacts to everyone’s texts on the afternoon of Jan 1st; no real response.

No resolutions at all. There’s no point - at the end of the day, the new year is just a continuation of everything that has been going on in his life. If he has to achieve anything, he’ll do so of his own accord, making a promise is just putting unnecessary weight on his own shoulders.

If he’s with you, however… He can be a little better and put more effort into it, because he sees how excited you are and doesn’t wanna burst your bubble.

Will do whatever you wanna do, but has a high preference for it just being the two of you somewhere isolated, with some food and music and the aforementioned champagne (which he drinks a lot less of if you’re present)

Will pull you into a kiss right as the fireworks start and try to keep you distracted for the duration, both because he wants to be as close to you as possible in that moment and also so that he can ignore the things entirely.

Will tell you all about how he loves you and how you’re the best thing that’s happened to him. Even if he sounds drunk, you know he means all of it entirely.

𓆩♡𓆪 KYLE BROFLOVSKI

He’s probably nothing special on NYE. Probably also stays at home, but not isolated.

Jewish New Year isn’t on Dec 31st, but I still think his parents do a little something, like some nice dinner or a reunion with extended family members or friends.

If he finds himself at some party, he’s pretty well-behaved even there. I don’t see him raising hell - however, if anyone stresses him out, he’ll fight like it’s any other old day.

Is the one fucker who brought the expensive champagne that no one can recognize the name of - which got the same treatment as the other cheap ones from the supermarket.

I do unfortunately see him in the position of designated driver. Someone has to make sure his dumbass friends don’t kill themselves on the road. That doesn’t mean he’s ever happy about it, though.

Watches people partake in superstitions, but doesn’t do any of them himself.

Sends ‘Happy New Year’ texts to almost everyone he knows as soon as midnight rolls over.

Makes resolutions and sticks to them - writes them, pins them to the wall, the whole nine yards. Morning of Jan 1st he’s already making detailed plans about how he’s going to achieve everything he said he would that year (whether those plans actually succeed is a whole different animal)

If he’s with you… He absolutely tries to make it a special night, despite it meaning little to him in a superstitious sense.

He’s also in the position where your plans are his plans, he’ll follow you. However, if you do accept to spend NYE with his family and him the whole time, it sends his heart soaring because he knows that you’re choosing him above all the other stuff you could be doing, and he’ll make sure you have a great time even if his family is… difficult.

Brings you into a soft and tender kiss as the new year rolls over, holding you close as you both share a toast of champagne and sort of ignore the first fireworks in favor of being with each other.

At the top of his resolution list is the mission to make your year the best it can possibly be, and to love you through all of it. He hasn’t really written that down on his list, though - because it’s on his mind 24/7 anyway.

𓆩♡𓆪 ERIC CARTMAN

Leaves his mother alone - he’s at a party somewhere, for sure. Even if he was invited to none, he’ll sneak his way in. Since no one really has it in them to argue with him on NYE, he gets to stay.

Which shouldn’t even be a bad thing, because he actually brings the heat; he shows up with several beverages and food every time. The part of it that sucks is the fact that everything he brings is for his consumption, so he’s still an expense to the host.

He can, however, legitimately be trusted with the aux. Actual decent taste when it comes to party music.

That one guy making jokes about how he ‘hasn’t showered since last year’ or shit. Except he says them at 10pm still on Dec 31st and no one’s sure if he’s just stupid or if it’s really true.

Wears party accessories ironically; possibly brought them.

Buys whole boxes of fireworks. He’ll try to find some poor soul to do the work of lighting them up for him, but normally can’t, so he does it himself and probably needs to be taken to the hospital from the burns or sets fire to something else entirely.

Makes posts and stories on social media wishing a half-assed Happy New Year to ‘everyone’ - when in reality he got maybe like, two texts at most. (Butters and his mom, most likely)

Strangely superstitious? People will see him go through all the possible traditions that anyone said would bring him good fortune. If anyone asks him about it, he’ll deny deny deny - actually, he’s wearing full white ‘because it’s drip’ and eating those grapes under the table ‘because he doesn’t want to share them’, it’s definitely not that he fears for his own luck if he doesn’t do so.

Since he is a little ‘stitious, that does mean he makes resolutions. And they’re usually grandiose, full of bullshit, and don’t really signify any relevant positive change for his life - it’s mostly just material and physical gratification. Needless to say, they’ve never come to fruition.

If he’s with you, barely anything changes, really.

Talks to you about his plans for the evening as if they’re a done deal. Basically drags you to whatever it is he wants to do. (You might even be the reason he’s able to get into a party to begin with)

Doesn’t kiss you straight away because he’s busy with his fireworks, but if he manages to not hurt himself, you get a heavy makeout session afterwards.

He talks mad shit about how you’re lucky to have him and how you should thank him for spending this time with you, but in reality, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

Immensely grateful for your presence in his life and willing to do anything to keep it that way. However, you won’t hear a single word about it.

𓆩♡𓆪 KENNY MCCORMICK

Out of his house by sundown - the addicts around him don’t really need a special occasion for doing their shit and stirring trouble, but it still seems to worsen on the holidays, so he wants to avoid that.

The protection Stan feels towards animals, he feels towards his siblings. Before he goes do anything else, he has to make sure they’re accounted for, with their friends somewhere safe where they can enjoy the night.

When that’s dealt with, it’s party time. He does get invited to stuff, and tries his best to not show up empty-handed, even if it’s just a bottle of cheap alcohol. He might still fail in that regard, though, but it’s okay, we still love him.

Wears all the ridiculous party accessories unironically.

Has died, more than once, due to firework-related accidents. Still enjoys watching them, albeit from a very safe distance now.

Watches the ball drop livestream on the television with great interest, even if just because it’s in HD this time. Celebrates heavily when it finally happens.

His ‘Happy New Year’ texts come in the afternoon, because he’s always too wasted in the morning to tell anyone anything. People might receive a drunken nonsensical jumble of letters at midnight, though.

Says surface-level words about a resolution or two, but it’s mostly really simple stuff. Also doesn’t really hold any of that to heart, because he knows of his own bad luck.

Doing the absolute most for a new year’s kiss (or several), practically on his knees begging for it.

However, if he’s with you… You’re getting way more than a kiss. It doesn’t even matter where y’all are, he’s starting the year by doing his favorite thing with his favorite person.

He kinda drags you into his plans, but it’s not in a selfish way like Cartman does. He just wants to make sure the both of you have a great time.

If you turn out to invite him personally to spend time with your family or just yourself, words cannot describe how happy he’s gonna be. It’ll basically make his whole year. He’ll ditch any party for that.

Partying all night with his baby, watching the fireworks, making love and not having to worry about anything else? Count this dude in.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[thesimmermo]

SEASON FINALE

After dinner, Morgan gets the kids ready for bed but Dirk paces back and forth throughout their bedroom waiting on her to come in. She finally makes her way into the room. Dirk is standing there watching her and a dark feeling fills her gut.

Morgan: What's wrong with you? Dirk: Nothing.

Morgan: Why are you yelling? What's wrong with you? Dirk: NOTHING IS WRONG WITH ME MORGAN!

Morgan: I need you to calm your ass down and talk to me like I'm a human being right now. Relax.

Dirk: This is a lot, Morgan. Morgan: What's a lot? Dirk: This. *waves hands in circle* All of this.

Morgan: What? The kids? The house? Me? Us? What?! Dirk: All of it. I don't... I can't deal with it.

Morgan: Please, Dirk, I swear to God. Tell me you're joking right now. Dirk: I'm not. Morgan: That's why you've been going on all these trips and staying out late?

Dirk: *Silence* Morgan: You piece of shit! You've been doing all that extra work to avoid being here with your family? THE FAMILY YOU WANTED?! Are you fucking kidding me?

Dirk: It's too much. There's noise non-stop and always something to do. There's never any real peace here anymore. Morgan: Dirk... This is what you wanted. This is what we wanted. Now, after all this time... You finally come home... You kids happy to see you... Just to say you don't like being around them?

Dirk: That's not what I'm saying- Morgan: That's exactly what you're saying. You made the bed and now you don't want to lay in it. You can't handle the pressure or responsibility. What the fuck Dirk?

Dirk: I'm just saying that I need a break. I can't do this all the time. Morgan: But fuck me, huh? I have to do it all the time? Fuck me? Dirk: Morgan that's not what I'm saying. *steps forward*

Morgan: Don't you dare touch me. Dirk: Morgan, I'm... Morgan: You don't have to say it. You show it every single day. You show it in the way that you act! Dirk: I do what I do to provide. That's why I work so much.

Morgan: Oh motherfucker, swallow it! Don't try to change the tone and mood now that you hear how fucking dumb you sound. I do what I do to provide. You do what YOU do to avoid. I get up everyday and make sure that everyone in this house has 3 meals a day, gas in their cars, clean clothes, a clean house to come home too while also still managing my business from home. I never miss a fucking programming meet. I never miss a fucking football game. I never miss a fucking soccer game, talent show, awards show, and anything that my kids do.

Morgan: How dare you say something so insensitive and degrading? Those 6 out there, love you. I love you and you stand right here and act like fuck this family. You hate being here- Dirk: I don't hate- *walks away*

Morgan: You do. You resent it. You thought you wanted to be a family man but you changed... just like the seasons. You'd rather work from sun up to ass crack, than be here to see the fruit of your seed. It's always been fuck me so I don't care how you treat me but you make a decision now. Dirk: It was never fuck you. Morgan: It was fuck me after you made me feel like shit for having a hysterectomy. Something that I dreaded. But you will not, NEVER disrespect the lives of my children.

Dirk: Morgan, I want to be here for them but... Morgan: But not all the time. I get it. So let me tell you your 2 options. 1 you either fully invest and be the best damn dad that you can be or.... Dirk: Or what?

Dirk: WHAT MORGAN?!

Morgan: Or you get the fuck out.

Dirk is caught off guard and his heart is broken. He feels awful about what's happening right now. He doesn't want it to end like that but he sees a look on Morgan's face that he's never seen before. She's checked out.

Dirk: Morgan do you hear what you're saying? Morgan: I hear myself loud and clear. Do you hear what I'm saying? I cannot deal with you and your "when I want too" attitude. It's annoying. It's aggravating. It's childish. I take up for myself and my 6 kids. They don't need someone in their life who wants to be there... ALL THE TIME. So what are you going to do? Dirk: That's not fair.

At the door, Daze and DJ are listening. Their own bodies shaking and full of fear about their parents. DJ is livid by hearing the words from his dad's mouth and Daze feels like regardless, they'll be okay.

Morgan: Get out. Dirk: Morgan, I.. Morgan: You can't even look me in my face right now and tell me that you want to be here. That you want this life because you don't. You want to leave.. It's in your body language, you just don't want us to be mad.

Dirk sighs full of defeat. Morgan shakes her head and steps out of his way.

Morgan: You win dude. Don't go through here slamming doors and being mad. Do what you gotta do in silence, don't wake up my damn kids. Dirk: Morgan. Morgan: Goodnight.

Daze and DJ scurry away as Morgan opens the bedroom door. She sees them but she is too livid to even scold them. She sits on the couch and waits as Dirk packs some suitcases to leave. He walks past her and pauses but she holds her hand up to stop him before he even speaks. She points at the door and Dirk walks by with his head down.

He can't even look back as he walks outside the large house. He hears the lock click behind him and he feels like to world's biggest loser. Inside Morgan sighs a achy, heart broken sigh. She goes to bed and holds her breath not wanting to address her kids tomorrow.

In the end, life goes on. Even if it means we grow apart.

[shadowsndaisies]

dogfighting 101: 02 - let's rock and roll

wc: 1k

synopsis: It's been a long time since I rock and rolled, It's been a long time since I did the stroll, Ooh let me get it back, let me get it back, Let me get it back, baby, where I come from

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

“Anyone got eyes on Maverick?” you ask, eyes scanning both your radar and the terrain too.

“No visual,” Harvard confirms.

“He’s here somewhere,” you note and then you realize.

Never only think what’s expected, kid. 360 degrees, all the time It’s something your dad told you were little, he and Ice, they wanted to teach you lessons to help you, things they learned too late. Little tests, quizzes, making sure you were well prepared for whatever life threw at you. Part of you was positive that Ice always knew where you’d end up.

Keeping that lesson in mind, you decide to change your perspective.

“Athena!” Yale’s shout echoes when you invert, a slow roll, completely safe, but not anticipated by your teammates.

Of course, your hunch pays off when you spot your dad from where he'd been shadowing you from below the hard deck, below your radars reach.

“How’s it hanging, old man?” you ask, smiling under your mask, looking through the canopy at him.

“You’re catching on to my tricks too quick, kid,” he throws back and you can practically hear the smirk.

There's a “Oh shit,” over the line from Harvard, but you shake your head as your dad comes up ahead of you both and you flip back once again.

“I know you too well, Sir,” you offer in response.

“Let’s to put that to the test,” he says, “time to turn and burn aviators, fights on!”

He shoots up and you spare another look at the foxtrot team on your right.

“Break right, Yale,” you shout over the line as you peel off left trying to find your Dad again.

“Breaking right,” he confirms.

You both loop around and eventually you find him, he’s already on your ass and you’re trying to shake him off.

“Tally Tally, he’s on your four-side Athena,” Harvard shouts.

“I see him!” you confirm increasing your throttle and turning up in an attempt to loop back around.

Your dad though, is hard to lose.

“I can’t shake him,” you huff, eyes squinting down as you pull evasive maneuvers.

“Athena, how long would you need to get tone?” Yale’s question comes suddenly, and you spot him looping back around, you see the move he’s planning to make, the way he’s positioning himself.

“Not long,” you assure him.

“Get ready to Rock and Roll,” Yale decides.

“I hate the Rock and Roll,” Harvard mutters, and you can’t help the small chuckle that slips out.

“Would you prefer the Do-Si-Do?” you ask, amusement shining through as you turn to set your self up.

“Fuck, no, and you fucking know it,” Harvard denies vehemently, you can hear Yale laugh as you finally get yourself right where you want to be.

“I’m ready to Rock,” you confirm and suddenly you stop the evasive maneuvers.

“Then let’s Roll!” Yale shouts, shooting up.

You, on the other hand, straighten out, and right before Maverick can get tone, Yale dives down in a controlled but fast barrel roll in the gap between you both, it’s not the tightest gap, easily manageable, but enough to give Mav pause, and while Harvard and Yale slowed to avoid the hard deck, you accelerate straight up and then tip back in a vertical roll, it pulls more G’s than you’d expected during your first training run of the detachment, but you manage to level out and get tone on your dad.

Unfortunately your tone comes right after your dad caught Harvard and Yale.

“Shit,” you huff, dejected as Yale pulls up parallel to you.

“Shit,” Mav agrees, flanking your other side, though he sounds more impressed than anything else.

“Harvard, Yale, go see Hondo about your push-ups,” Mav calls, and the foxtrot team starts their descent. “Athena,” he calls, and your gaze jumps out the canopy and at your dad. He hits the glass, pulling his mask off and offering you a rare smile, real and proud, like he did at your high school graduation. “Not bad, Kid,” he says and you smile despite yourself, beginning your own descent.

Harvard, Yale, Hangman, Phoenix, and Bob are all stood on the tarmac when you land.

“I have a need,” Yale yells holding up his hands as you get out of your plane.

You roll your eyes but play along, “A need for speed!” you shout, high-fiving him and then Harvard who was stood behind his pilot.

“Not bad, ‘Thena,” Hangman drawls, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Don’t be too sad when you don’t get tone, Hangman, we always knew I was the better pilot,” you smirk, winking at him as you walk past.

You shake your head walking with Brigham and Yale, and when they stop by Hondo, you do too.

“You got tone, Athena, no push-ups for you,” Hondo says, frowning when you ditch your vest and gear, rolling your flight suit down and dropping to the ground in line with Harvard and Yale who had already done the same.

“I did,” you confirm, taking a plank beside the two men.

“Athena,” it’s Yale’s voice this time, looking at you with what can only be described as fondness, but also exasperation.

“We’re a team, you got shot down, we all do push-ups,” you say seriously. Then you turn to look up at Hondo, “on your count, Hondo,” you prompt.

“Hold that!” the evident smirk in the voice had your held tilting up and there was your dad. “A deal’s a deal, kid. You got tone, I owe 200 pushups,” your dad smirked down at you, as he dropped to the ground on the other side of you.

“You sure you can manage that? You’re getting up there in years,” you tease.

“Ice would have your head if he heard you age-shaming me,” he shoots back.

“Ice would laugh and join me,” you challenge.

Your dad simply smiles in defeat, turning to Hondo, “like the kid said, on your count, Hondo.”

“If you insist,” he nods, and then, “Down! One! Two! Three!” and the count went on, the four of you doing your push-ups.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes @geeksareunique @je6291

[ak319]

Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

Part II

➺Part I

It's been two days since your arrival at Al-Razeh. Maha, your PA, poured tea into your cup and hers, and you both sat down, enjoying the evening and relaxing on your estate's lawn.

"The weather is nice today, Ma'am," Maha said, taking in the cool breeze.

"Indeed," you replied, savoring the calm. After a moment, you turned to her. "By the way, you’ve lived here all your life, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," she answered, glancing at you curiously.

"So... any folklore tied to this village? Since, you know, villages are known to be famous for such things." You smiled, lighting the mood with a bit of humor. “Often having their own stories.”

Maha chuckled softly at your inquiry and drew her chair a bit closer to yours. “Well, not exactly folklore, but there is this family. Personally, neither my family nor I are closely acquainted with them, but…” She took a sip of her tea, her words now capturing all your attention.

"They are the Jafaris--Kadir Jafari’s family, they own general stores here, two of them. He has three sons. The oldest two are married and have children, but their youngest… he’s always been something of an enigma around here.”

Your curiosity piqued, you snorted softly. “An enigma?”

“Yes, ma’am, an enigma,” Maha’s voice took on a tone of anxious seriousness. “He’s known for his extraordinary beauty. I have not seen him myself though. So, up until he was about sixteen, everything seemed fine. But then, he suddenly vanished from his friends’ lives and stopped attending school. Despite the family’s best efforts to conceal the issue, it eventually came to light that he was... possessed. The situation was dire, his agonizing screams were reportedly heard throughout the quiet streets. This was happening around the time of his second brother’s wedding. Guests at the house, including those from the neighboring families, overheard the commotion. The disturbances along with conflicts within the family caused tensions to rise, and at one point, it nearly led to the engagement being called off. Fortunately, the wedding went ahead, but Habib was absent, cited as being ill by his family.”

You listened with growing intrigue, though a pang of sympathy tugged at your heart. Such occurrences were tragically real, and often, people not only suffered but sometimes perished.

"Let me guess," you said, shifting your gaze to Maha, "you mentioned he was--no, is--beautiful?"

"Yes, that’s correct."

"Then black magic? Possibly from relatives?" You inquired, noting the surprised look in Maha’s eyes.

"Y-yes," she stammered. "I mean, that's what most of the people think. The cleric himself when consulted by some of the village elders, particularly Kadir’s friends, didn't reveal anything except that it was indeed something paranormal."

"That's often the case with such situations," you remarked. "Clerics typically avoid naming names if it's a matter of black magic. If you discover the culprit on your own, that's one thing, but directly asking the clerics usually only gets you vague responses. Or maybe the family didn't want the details out."

Black magic presented a confusing challenge when it came to legal matters. The laws were clear, if someone was caught practicing black magic, they faced severe penalties. Yet, the shadowy nature of these practices often meant that many perpetrators remained hidden. Clerics, bound by their own reasons, often withheld crucial information about those involved. In villages like Al-Razeh, such issues could be predictably common. To you, black magic was not merely a mystical concern but a serious crime. The victims deserved justice, and those who perpetuated such malevolence needed to be held accountable.

“Ma’am, how do you know so much about these things?” Maha’s childlike curiosity brought a smile to your face.

“Nothing special,” you replied, “just a hobby. So, how is the boy now?”

"Oh! I missed a part," Maha said, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "People, like you mentioned, initially suspected the relatives because that's common in cases of black magic. But his brothers were also under suspicion. They always seemed to harbor resentment towards Habib. After all, he’s the most beautiful of them, so it wouldn't be surprising if they were involved. Men too get jealous over these matters."

With a pitiful sigh, you set your cup on the table and leaned back. "It breaks one’s heart to hear such stories--family turning against family. This... magic stuff is no joke. Deep-rooted jealousy can lead to such tragic outcomes, tearing apart lives and families."

"Indeed," Maha agreed solemnly. "But it could just have been a normal possession and not caused by magic cuz like I said, he is said to be very beautiful. He's reportedly doing better now, but he hasn’t left the house since then. It might be the cleric’s advice, or perhaps it's his parents' protectiveness or... his brothers' doing. Some people speculate that he might have died."

“What? Died? But didn’t the cleric solve his problem?” you asked, puzzled.

“Yes, he did. It’s just a rumor--he can’t be dead. You can't hide something like that for so long. People who are the family's relatives and friends, have seen him inside the house. So, he’s definitely there.” Maha chuckled, shaking her head at the absurdity of such rumors.

"What about the cleric? He still here?"

"Oh no, he was from some other place. Kadir called him here for his son's treatment." You hummed and took in the information. Then a subtle smirk graced your lips.

“It could have been a lover, too,” you suggested casually.

“What?”

You petted Milo, your cat, who had jumped onto your lap. “It might have been a lover who cursed him, someone who wanted him. One of the leading cause for black magic."

“He was 16.”

You laughed, “So? She could have been 16 too. Who knows? Anyway, did you put the reports in my study?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, I’ll go freshen up.” You stood up, leaving Maha to enjoy her tea on the lawn. Your thoughts shifted away from the village story, focusing instead on the duties that lay ahead.

═════ ◈ ═════

Odai stepped into the small shop, removing his glasses as his gaze briefly settled on the figure behind the counter. What caught his attention were the eyes--unmistakably unique, as if they held a quiet depth. But the rest of the man’s face was hidden beneath a cloth, adding an air of mystery.

"Um, two packs of cigarettes." Odai glanced back at the car parked outside across the road. Through the tinted windows, he could see his reflection.

"I can't."

Odai’s head snapped back in surprise. Is he hearing things?

"Two packs of cigarettes, brother," he repeated, a bit more firmly this time.

But the man behind the counter shook his head again, those evasive eyes refusing to reveal more. What was going on?

"What?--what do you mean? It’s just a pack of cigarettes. Why are you saying no?"

"I-I can't sell them... I don't want to."

"Why? That’s your job! Why even own a shop then? Is this how you treat your customers?" Odai's frustration grew.

"No... I just don’t sell cigarettes... They’re harmful."

Was this man serious? Was he actually joking?

"Look, boy. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I need them, so I’m gonna ask one last time before I leave. Hand over the cigarettes."

But all he got in return was another silent shake of the head. That was it.

"Fine, keep running your business like this bud and you’re bound for success," Odai muttered, "And maybe don’t stock cigarettes in your shop if you’re not planning to sell them!"

He stormed back to the car, slamming the driver’s door shut accidentally. The noise made you glance up from your file.

"What’s wrong? Did you get them?" you asked, noticing his disgruntled expression.

"I’m so-rry, ma’am… um… the boy in the shop… he refused to sell. God, I can’t believe it--like, what even was that? But there's another store nearby so , we will go there." Odai stammered, frustration clear in his voice. Before he could shift into gear, you stopped him with a curious question.

"Wait, he refused to sell cigarettes?"

"Yes." Odai nodded, still baffled.

"That’s interesting. And did he say why?"

"They’re harmful." Odai’s ears flushed as he heard you chuckle softly. He wasn’t sure if you were annoyed or just amused by the whole thing.

"Now this is intriguing. Someone refusing to run their business properly... now that’s a case worth looking into." Still chuckling, you slipped out of the car before Odai could respond, but he quickly followed, his curiosity piqued.

Like him, you took in the scene before heading to the small counter tucked in the corner. There, the figure sat quietly, standing the moment you approached, his demeanor almost shy under your gaze.

"You’re the one who refuses to sell cigarettes because they’re harmful?" you asked, your voice curious yet firm.

He nodded. His eyes, though not meeting yours directly, seemed to speak in a language of their own--soft but full of meaning.

"Do you know who I am?" You wondered if the uniform might catch his attention.

A brief silence followed before his voice, barely above a whisper, reached you. "No.."

"I am the new DC."

"T-he DC?"

"That's right."

"I still… won’t sell." Odai huffed behind you, clearly irritated, but you hardly noticed. Your eyes softened, lighting up with quiet amusement at the childlike defiance. "Why? This is not how you run a shop, boy."

"I don’t want you....our… new DC to be harmed. I won’t let a pack… kill an honest officer."

For a moment, time seemed to still. Never in your life did you imagine hearing something so simple, yet so profound. His words, spoken with such gentleness, struck something deep inside you. Just who was this man? You could sense Odai’s stunned silence behind you, just as surprised by the unexpected warmth in those gentle words.

After clearing your throat, you finally asked, "What’s your name?"

"H-Habib, miss."

This… this is Habib? The Habib that Maha had told you about?

"They’re the Jafaris--Kadir Jafari’s family. They own general stores around here, two of them."

And here you were, standing in one of them. But how was he… here?

From behind a curtain serving as a door to an adjoined room, a man in his late fifties appeared, his presence steady and familiar. He moved to stand beside Habib.

'That must be Kadir, his father.'

"Oh! I’m sorry, I was just praying in the other room. How may I help you?" Kadir asked politely, his tone warm. Meanwhile, Habib stood quietly to the side, his gaze fixed downward, trying to shrink into the background, as if seeking shelter behind his father’s presence.

"Well, our DC wanted some cigarettes, and this boy refused to sell them," Odai interjected with a trace of frustration in his voice.

"Oh--I’m so sorry. Ma’am, please, forgive him. He’s new to this… and, well, he refuses to sell them to anyone," Kadir said with a chuckle that barely masked his embarrassment, as he reached for the cigarettes.

"No, it’s alright. Really, I don’t want them. And… you’ve raised a kind soul, sir," you said, your gaze briefly shifting to Habib, who still stood quietly, his presence almost ethereal. Maha was right. If those eyes alone held such depth and softness, then his face… You couldn’t help but feel a quiet curiosity bloom within you, wondering what beauty lay beneath the mask. Yet, it wasn’t a thought born of desire--no it was reverent. There was a satisfaction in knowing that Habib remained untouched by the eyes of envy or malice.

"I--thank you, ma’am. But, please, if you still want--"

"It’s fine." You smiled, your voice gentle. "I’ll just take those chips instead. Thank you."

Before leaving, your eyes found Habib’s one last time. For a brief second, he looked back, those soulful eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability that touched something deep inside you. And then, just like that, the moment passed. Something stirred in your chest as you made your way back to the car.

His demeanor, though shy and reserved, had an innate warmth that contrasted starkly with the pain you suspected he might have endured. Habib's eyes, so expressive despite their attempt to hide behind the mask of modesty, spoke volumes. How could anyone ever think to harm such a gentle, innocent soul? His kindness made him so pure, yet so brave in his quiet way. Your heart ached at the thought of someone cruel, someone arrogant, standing where you were now. If they had received the same refusal, what might they have done to him and his father?

Part III

(AN: I cried writing this due to the unspoken romance which is more to come and I just wanna give the biggest hug to Habib so bad 😭)